1.5-Terrible Life Choices(And Other Las Vegas Attractions)-F
Aug 29, 2014 18:24:05 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2014 18:24:05 GMT -5
Set during Week 1, Day 4!
––––
Omega Base, Nevada:
Wash sat alone in his quarters and contemplated his stash.
It was dwindling. That was worrying.
He sat at his desk and moodily rifled through the sealed container that lay open in front of him. The vials within it clinked together, both full ones and empty ones alike. He saved every used vial. Once he had come up with the desperate idea that perhaps he could bake a fresh supply from the Autobots’ sparse energon depot in order to refill them. If he was careful no one would notice the fractional theft.
But the idea was insane. Impossible. Here on Earth he lacked over half of the chemicals needed to produce a proper speeder. And you could only process so much from energon. No, what he had left in this case was going to have to last.
It was going to have to last a long time.
Wash resisted the urge to rub his hands down his face. Because it got worse than that. Recharging a full night on Ratchet’s strict orders was only staving off the worst of the energy drain. And when he was awake he was working. All the time. Against the Decepticons, against MECH. Against...
He hesitated.
No. Best not to think about that right now.
With the side of his head resting against his fist, Wash idly fished a vial out of the case. Unlike the others this one was not filled with a venomously pink liquid. Suspended within it was a tiny crumb of blue light. It shed a gentle radiance that lit the darkened room.
Wash held it up to his optics and studied it with a mix of amusement and regret.
Of all of the poor choices he had made over his lifetime, he really hoped that this would not be the one to bite him in the end. That would be a terribly embarrassing autopsy, to say the least.
An internal alarm chimed. Wash set the little vial back into the case, which was sealed shut and carefully returned to its hiding place beneath the floor under his berth.
Right, he thought as he marched out of his quarters and into the corridor. Time to stop moping. It was time to get back to work. And damn it, he was going to have a little fun in the process even if it killed him.
----
It was a little after noon when Bluestreak's internal comm chimed.
"Eyo, Blue!" Wash's cheery voice rang over the line. "You out and about? I'm sitting here behind a roadside billboard for 'Alien Fresh Jerky' just south of Vegas on Route 15. The weather is beautiful and sunny, I'm just about to head into the city to do a patrol lap, and I've been feeling kind of lonely. Interested in taking a drive, by any chance?"
––––
Omega Base, Nevada:
Wash sat alone in his quarters and contemplated his stash.
It was dwindling. That was worrying.
He sat at his desk and moodily rifled through the sealed container that lay open in front of him. The vials within it clinked together, both full ones and empty ones alike. He saved every used vial. Once he had come up with the desperate idea that perhaps he could bake a fresh supply from the Autobots’ sparse energon depot in order to refill them. If he was careful no one would notice the fractional theft.
But the idea was insane. Impossible. Here on Earth he lacked over half of the chemicals needed to produce a proper speeder. And you could only process so much from energon. No, what he had left in this case was going to have to last.
It was going to have to last a long time.
Wash resisted the urge to rub his hands down his face. Because it got worse than that. Recharging a full night on Ratchet’s strict orders was only staving off the worst of the energy drain. And when he was awake he was working. All the time. Against the Decepticons, against MECH. Against...
He hesitated.
No. Best not to think about that right now.
With the side of his head resting against his fist, Wash idly fished a vial out of the case. Unlike the others this one was not filled with a venomously pink liquid. Suspended within it was a tiny crumb of blue light. It shed a gentle radiance that lit the darkened room.
Wash held it up to his optics and studied it with a mix of amusement and regret.
Of all of the poor choices he had made over his lifetime, he really hoped that this would not be the one to bite him in the end. That would be a terribly embarrassing autopsy, to say the least.
An internal alarm chimed. Wash set the little vial back into the case, which was sealed shut and carefully returned to its hiding place beneath the floor under his berth.
Right, he thought as he marched out of his quarters and into the corridor. Time to stop moping. It was time to get back to work. And damn it, he was going to have a little fun in the process even if it killed him.
----
It was a little after noon when Bluestreak's internal comm chimed.
"Eyo, Blue!" Wash's cheery voice rang over the line. "You out and about? I'm sitting here behind a roadside billboard for 'Alien Fresh Jerky' just south of Vegas on Route 15. The weather is beautiful and sunny, I'm just about to head into the city to do a patrol lap, and I've been feeling kind of lonely. Interested in taking a drive, by any chance?"