[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Interior Design [Carbine, Patch, Ratchet, Thunder]
Nov 19, 2019 16:11:52 GMT -5
Post by Windshield on Nov 19, 2019 16:11:52 GMT -5
Episode 3 / Week 1 / Day 5 / Closed
Somewhere in Arizona...
This night was dry and dark. Stars dotted the black canvas above a wast, endless desert. Cacti spread far and wide across the red sand, kept company by tan grass and the occasional shrubbery. This arid environment was no place for a human.
And yet, humans did dwell in this area once. Today, all that remained of them was an abandoned structure. It had once been an airbase. Vacancy did its integrity no good. The black runways were cracked after long days of stress under the unforgiving sun, and the structures surrounding them have fallen into disrepair.
However, the local hangar remained in relatively good condition. And curiously, it still held one occupant; a new occupant at that. Windshield had taken to this place as his new home after Optimus and Agent Fowler pulled some strings. Since he moved in, it has been furnished with some new utilities that a Cybertronian needed.
For one, the hangar has been segregated into three smaller areas with concrete walls, so that Windshield didn't have to recharge and do his paint job in the same giant room. One of these rooms has been designated as his sleeping quarters, another housed a computer to keep in touch with Bot Base among other things, and the third one, Windshield used for various frivolous things.
Why, just today he installed a table so that he could play a human game known as table tennis. He also hauled in some human tech to fix himself a makeshift TV—of course, he kept this stuff off-record. Nobody needed to know he's been digging around scrapyards for junk.
And credit where credit is due, the Autobots even equipped the place with a jammer to mask Windshield's life signal from any Decepticons that might come looking for him. This afforded him some amount of comfort. Still, he was deathly afraid of intruders. So, of his own volition, he bugged the entire place to high hell and set up cameras everywhere. One could never be too cautious in his position.
But today—today, the extra layer of security was down because today, Windshield expected a visit. A while ago, he made a request to get some supplies from Omega Outpost. For a mercy, his list was rather short and involved only the most necessary things and a few luxuries that weren't hard to acquire by any measure. Such things were permissible even in a time of scarcity without straining the busy minds of Ratchet and Optimus Prime.
And so, he threw wide the hangar gates and strolled onto the runway with a lazy swagger, expecting a green swirly portal to open any moment now.
Any moment now...
Somewhere in Arizona...
This night was dry and dark. Stars dotted the black canvas above a wast, endless desert. Cacti spread far and wide across the red sand, kept company by tan grass and the occasional shrubbery. This arid environment was no place for a human.
And yet, humans did dwell in this area once. Today, all that remained of them was an abandoned structure. It had once been an airbase. Vacancy did its integrity no good. The black runways were cracked after long days of stress under the unforgiving sun, and the structures surrounding them have fallen into disrepair.
However, the local hangar remained in relatively good condition. And curiously, it still held one occupant; a new occupant at that. Windshield had taken to this place as his new home after Optimus and Agent Fowler pulled some strings. Since he moved in, it has been furnished with some new utilities that a Cybertronian needed.
For one, the hangar has been segregated into three smaller areas with concrete walls, so that Windshield didn't have to recharge and do his paint job in the same giant room. One of these rooms has been designated as his sleeping quarters, another housed a computer to keep in touch with Bot Base among other things, and the third one, Windshield used for various frivolous things.
Why, just today he installed a table so that he could play a human game known as table tennis. He also hauled in some human tech to fix himself a makeshift TV—of course, he kept this stuff off-record. Nobody needed to know he's been digging around scrapyards for junk.
And credit where credit is due, the Autobots even equipped the place with a jammer to mask Windshield's life signal from any Decepticons that might come looking for him. This afforded him some amount of comfort. Still, he was deathly afraid of intruders. So, of his own volition, he bugged the entire place to high hell and set up cameras everywhere. One could never be too cautious in his position.
But today—today, the extra layer of security was down because today, Windshield expected a visit. A while ago, he made a request to get some supplies from Omega Outpost. For a mercy, his list was rather short and involved only the most necessary things and a few luxuries that weren't hard to acquire by any measure. Such things were permissible even in a time of scarcity without straining the busy minds of Ratchet and Optimus Prime.
And so, he threw wide the hangar gates and strolled onto the runway with a lazy swagger, expecting a green swirly portal to open any moment now.
Any moment now...