[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Jigsaw [Knock Out]
Aug 25, 2017 0:54:45 GMT -5
Post by Soundwave on Aug 25, 2017 0:54:45 GMT -5
Episode 2.5 | Week 1 | Day 1
Ground Bridges were disorienting things, pushing an individual to go from one area to another so abruptly that it makes them acutely aware of the subtle attributes of an environment that normally go forgotten. A shift in altitude, a change in temperature, a rise or fall of humidity... scents come at them with full force, and lighting can be drastically lighter or darker. This situation with Knock Out was no different.
A higher environmental pressure, a cold room with a chilled metal floor below; there was a distant tang of salt, the scent very faint as it was muddled over by an otherwise sterile environment that had been tainted by destruction and charred wires and broken equipment. All this would be bad enough on its own to transition to, but Knock Out's perspective on gravity would be painfully different.
The portal opened sideways where they were, and Knock Out, who had previously been falling straight down, would find himself now looking up at a gray ceiling that sunk back into deep shadows and darkness. His body would only stall for the briefest of moments, before reality grabbed on once he was fully emerged from the vortex that closed in his wake. With a slam, he would fall onto his back in the middle of Shockwave's laboratory.
The room was large, circular in design with computer terminals on the far wall, and other rooms attached at its side. A hallway stretched the opposite direction, where sparks flicked and sputtered from a destroyed piece of equipment. So much of the laboratory was thrown into disarray... the flip of the Nemesis as it crashed was not kind. A medical berth thrown to a far wall, systems tore or part hanging from their mounting brackets and connection cables... additional sparks flicked, and a small fire sputtered in the corner.
It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that Knock Out would undoubtedly panic in the next few fleeting moments. Once reality caught up to him and he realized he was in the ship? Well... chances are he would start screaming and whining, and maybe sobbing if his stress levels were pushed too hard. It is because of this, letting him have a moment to compose himself and come to terms with the fact he was trapped in a death pit, was not an option.
A pair of three pronged cables slammed abruptly into Knock Outs shoulders, the impact rough, ramming into the joint between the actual panels of shoulder armor, and his neck cables. The prongs snapped down in order to get a firm grip, not piercing into the mech, but getting a good enough hold to wrench and pull a moment later to drag Knock Out back a few yards. It seemed almost effortless, the way the small medic was pulled across the ground, only for him to be heaved upright and onto his feet, planting him down solidly right beside a large medical table.
Here he would see what remained of Flatline.
It wasn't good.
All of the damages from before, all of the trauma from the fight, the broken knee, the gunshot wound to his side and hip, the breaks and scrapes and tears and even the convex cave-in on his 'ribcage' where he was kicked... it all remained of course. Enough time to properly heal that past a few sloppy welding lines on his side was not gifted. That said, there was a very large incision that most definitely was not there before in the middle of his chest just to the side of the central plate, the hole gaping open to expose internals that were running with very poor efficiency.
A churning grinding, a hollow click, a fuel pump deep in his torso was starting to run dry, struggling to carry the fluid to his limbs and mechanical 'organs' that required it. Without proper fuel, other channels were starting to close down, and because of it his frame was running hot, unable to run coolant and vent off the strain of the ragged system. Many of the vitals were already starting to close down, leaving his spark lurching and spasming occasionally as it was completely thrown out of rhythm.
Much of this information Knock Out would be able to see to his side on a monitor, the readouts akin to a battle worn mech that had been badly damaged in combat rather than what you would expect to see in a scientist that remained indoors the majority of the time. Flatline was unsurprisingly motionless during this, optics so faint there might as well not be any illumination at all, while primary limbs were strapped down with stasis locks.
With a swooping motion, Soundwave would cut into view at Knock Out's left on the side where Flatline's peds lie. He looked battered as well, an injury on his torso that could be identified as belonging to Laserbeak upon closer inspection, but he didn't seem to be concerned. With a whirled rev of small mechanisms moving, one of the tendrils that were clutching onto Knock Out removed, grasping onto a medical cart that was abruptly pushed to his right side that had some Energon already stacked on top to be used, as well as other basic tools. The other data cable however, remained firmly grabbed onto the medics left shoulder, a sharp reminder that fleeing was NOT an option right then.
Ground Bridges were disorienting things, pushing an individual to go from one area to another so abruptly that it makes them acutely aware of the subtle attributes of an environment that normally go forgotten. A shift in altitude, a change in temperature, a rise or fall of humidity... scents come at them with full force, and lighting can be drastically lighter or darker. This situation with Knock Out was no different.
A higher environmental pressure, a cold room with a chilled metal floor below; there was a distant tang of salt, the scent very faint as it was muddled over by an otherwise sterile environment that had been tainted by destruction and charred wires and broken equipment. All this would be bad enough on its own to transition to, but Knock Out's perspective on gravity would be painfully different.
The portal opened sideways where they were, and Knock Out, who had previously been falling straight down, would find himself now looking up at a gray ceiling that sunk back into deep shadows and darkness. His body would only stall for the briefest of moments, before reality grabbed on once he was fully emerged from the vortex that closed in his wake. With a slam, he would fall onto his back in the middle of Shockwave's laboratory.
The room was large, circular in design with computer terminals on the far wall, and other rooms attached at its side. A hallway stretched the opposite direction, where sparks flicked and sputtered from a destroyed piece of equipment. So much of the laboratory was thrown into disarray... the flip of the Nemesis as it crashed was not kind. A medical berth thrown to a far wall, systems tore or part hanging from their mounting brackets and connection cables... additional sparks flicked, and a small fire sputtered in the corner.
It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that Knock Out would undoubtedly panic in the next few fleeting moments. Once reality caught up to him and he realized he was in the ship? Well... chances are he would start screaming and whining, and maybe sobbing if his stress levels were pushed too hard. It is because of this, letting him have a moment to compose himself and come to terms with the fact he was trapped in a death pit, was not an option.
A pair of three pronged cables slammed abruptly into Knock Outs shoulders, the impact rough, ramming into the joint between the actual panels of shoulder armor, and his neck cables. The prongs snapped down in order to get a firm grip, not piercing into the mech, but getting a good enough hold to wrench and pull a moment later to drag Knock Out back a few yards. It seemed almost effortless, the way the small medic was pulled across the ground, only for him to be heaved upright and onto his feet, planting him down solidly right beside a large medical table.
Here he would see what remained of Flatline.
It wasn't good.
All of the damages from before, all of the trauma from the fight, the broken knee, the gunshot wound to his side and hip, the breaks and scrapes and tears and even the convex cave-in on his 'ribcage' where he was kicked... it all remained of course. Enough time to properly heal that past a few sloppy welding lines on his side was not gifted. That said, there was a very large incision that most definitely was not there before in the middle of his chest just to the side of the central plate, the hole gaping open to expose internals that were running with very poor efficiency.
A churning grinding, a hollow click, a fuel pump deep in his torso was starting to run dry, struggling to carry the fluid to his limbs and mechanical 'organs' that required it. Without proper fuel, other channels were starting to close down, and because of it his frame was running hot, unable to run coolant and vent off the strain of the ragged system. Many of the vitals were already starting to close down, leaving his spark lurching and spasming occasionally as it was completely thrown out of rhythm.
Much of this information Knock Out would be able to see to his side on a monitor, the readouts akin to a battle worn mech that had been badly damaged in combat rather than what you would expect to see in a scientist that remained indoors the majority of the time. Flatline was unsurprisingly motionless during this, optics so faint there might as well not be any illumination at all, while primary limbs were strapped down with stasis locks.
With a swooping motion, Soundwave would cut into view at Knock Out's left on the side where Flatline's peds lie. He looked battered as well, an injury on his torso that could be identified as belonging to Laserbeak upon closer inspection, but he didn't seem to be concerned. With a whirled rev of small mechanisms moving, one of the tendrils that were clutching onto Knock Out removed, grasping onto a medical cart that was abruptly pushed to his right side that had some Energon already stacked on top to be used, as well as other basic tools. The other data cable however, remained firmly grabbed onto the medics left shoulder, a sharp reminder that fleeing was NOT an option right then.