[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Day By Day [Finale]
Feb 22, 2020 1:34:42 GMT -5
Post by Flatline on Feb 22, 2020 1:34:42 GMT -5
"I enjoy my work. I enjoy a job. On the Nemesis I had a road set before me, and I was focused on traversing it."
Obsessive would be a more accurate way to convey it, though it wasn't particularly flattering. Flatline enjoyed having a set of two tasks. One directive he could complete and fulfill, and then a secondary one that was unknown and challenged his mind. A job that may be impossible, but could keep his processor active and thriving to try to make innovative leaps. That is what he enjoyed, that is what he missed most. His current position left with no true challenge that strained his processor.
"I harbor no inherent hate for organic worlds, but that does not mean I enjoy wallowing in it."
Who would? Looking at a tree and finding it disgusting just because it was organic was one thing, while for him a tree is more... just an environmental thing to navigate to get to his goal. Inconsequential, unlike a swamp that would flow between plates and smear within joints and hinges. That is the distinction he felt, and should he be in such a situation as to be up to his hock's in mud he would be very unhappy and loathing, though... it would be no different if he was plunged to the same depth in tar back on Cybertron.
"If you are looking to mill what interests I have on the topic of sightseeing, you will be sourly disappointed."
Honest, blunt. He could tell she was trying to kindle some kind of curiosity out of him, and at this point there really wasn’t a lot about it he was truly passionate about. Either or, whatever she wanted, nature or a city, all he needed was to get out of this cave system. Flatline was not a claustrophobic individual. Shove him into a closet and he would be angrier at being locked in there than he would be frantically clawing at the walls in madness. No... He did not hold such a fear. However, while he did not collapse into panic there was a similar thing starting to form these last weeks, creeping at the back of his processor. Just wanting, hoping, WISHING he could get out of here and feel fresh air.
At Finale's request, Flatline eased into movement once again. While he did walk with a cane, and he did have a bit of a limp to his stride, he did not seem particularly ANGRY at being forced to move as much as he was. Work the damage, stretch the joint, try to break in the replacement parts enough to figure if it was a matter of getting used to it, or if something else had to be changed... He simply made his way over to where the oils were, picking up a good medical grade oil for internals that would be more than fine.
"Should you get me liberated from Blackridge, I care naught the destination. You pick."
Simple, flat, he held the oil in his free hand while making his way back over with his limped gait.
Obsessive would be a more accurate way to convey it, though it wasn't particularly flattering. Flatline enjoyed having a set of two tasks. One directive he could complete and fulfill, and then a secondary one that was unknown and challenged his mind. A job that may be impossible, but could keep his processor active and thriving to try to make innovative leaps. That is what he enjoyed, that is what he missed most. His current position left with no true challenge that strained his processor.
"I harbor no inherent hate for organic worlds, but that does not mean I enjoy wallowing in it."
Who would? Looking at a tree and finding it disgusting just because it was organic was one thing, while for him a tree is more... just an environmental thing to navigate to get to his goal. Inconsequential, unlike a swamp that would flow between plates and smear within joints and hinges. That is the distinction he felt, and should he be in such a situation as to be up to his hock's in mud he would be very unhappy and loathing, though... it would be no different if he was plunged to the same depth in tar back on Cybertron.
"If you are looking to mill what interests I have on the topic of sightseeing, you will be sourly disappointed."
Honest, blunt. He could tell she was trying to kindle some kind of curiosity out of him, and at this point there really wasn’t a lot about it he was truly passionate about. Either or, whatever she wanted, nature or a city, all he needed was to get out of this cave system. Flatline was not a claustrophobic individual. Shove him into a closet and he would be angrier at being locked in there than he would be frantically clawing at the walls in madness. No... He did not hold such a fear. However, while he did not collapse into panic there was a similar thing starting to form these last weeks, creeping at the back of his processor. Just wanting, hoping, WISHING he could get out of here and feel fresh air.
At Finale's request, Flatline eased into movement once again. While he did walk with a cane, and he did have a bit of a limp to his stride, he did not seem particularly ANGRY at being forced to move as much as he was. Work the damage, stretch the joint, try to break in the replacement parts enough to figure if it was a matter of getting used to it, or if something else had to be changed... He simply made his way over to where the oils were, picking up a good medical grade oil for internals that would be more than fine.
"Should you get me liberated from Blackridge, I care naught the destination. You pick."
Simple, flat, he held the oil in his free hand while making his way back over with his limped gait.