[ti]Ep 3[/ti] Wake Up, Dead Man [Patch, Ratchet, Carbine]
Dec 8, 2019 14:46:02 GMT -5
Post by Patch on Dec 8, 2019 14:46:02 GMT -5
Once Thunder had opted not to accept the removal of any code, Patch finally pressed a few keys, waited a moment, then detached the scanner proper. Drawing her own wire out of the port, and retracting it back into the device with a button on the side. She set the little object down on a table beside her, and away from the berth.
Oh, it wouldn’t have been the first time Patch had gotten KOed by a fly-away foot. She’d been kicked, punched, spat on, leaked on, purged on; accidentally and on purpose! but the little medic still needed to at least TRY! She was stronger than she looked, after all! Despite the rather diminutive figure, Patch was still compact. Her internals tightly meshed together inside, and for this reason, she had a good bit of weight to her. That, of course, all would have been brought up as an argument had Ratchet actually tried to warn her. The -genuinely potentially good- advice immediately kicked through the window in hopes of not appearing weak in front of this new stranger.
Her helm suddenly snapped up at the sound of the door. Not only the door but the sound of struggle. A jolt of alarm, followed by… Well by a surge of different sort of alarm.
Ohh, Patch knew what this was. She knew exactly what this was…
This was a fuckin’ reunion.
AKA? Time to get outta’ the way.
“WHOA!!” A huge figure leaping onto the table, the piercing slam of metal on metal ringing through the little room. The young femme suddenly lurched back, on bent knees, and wide spread peddes. Throwing her servos in front of her… Before immediately trying to dive back into the fray as the large mech tipped dangerously far toward her side of the table. Trying to get a shoulder beneath him, something! An action, which very nearly resulted in her decapitation, before she could so much as make contact.
Huge wings splayed out, and stopped the femme dead in her tracks. A sudden drop as her chassis tilted back. The wick of air across her faceplate, and the front of her chest. Widened optics bobbed suddenly back with her helm A near miss the little medic quickly recovered from. Settling again about a step away, then… She started chuckling. A low, deep throaty bobble that slowly transitioned to a bright-eyed crackle. After a moment, she folded forward, then raised her helm again to look at the mechs as she spoke.
“Woohoohoo! Carbine, you cheatin’ spawn of a glitch, you never told me you were married!”
A playful, sarcastic tone. Clearly trying to poke fun at the two. Spoken through a grin, with her faceplate cocked up toward the 'lover-bots'. Silver servos planted on her knees.
Oh, it wouldn’t have been the first time Patch had gotten KOed by a fly-away foot. She’d been kicked, punched, spat on, leaked on, purged on; accidentally and on purpose! but the little medic still needed to at least TRY! She was stronger than she looked, after all! Despite the rather diminutive figure, Patch was still compact. Her internals tightly meshed together inside, and for this reason, she had a good bit of weight to her. That, of course, all would have been brought up as an argument had Ratchet actually tried to warn her. The -genuinely potentially good- advice immediately kicked through the window in hopes of not appearing weak in front of this new stranger.
Her helm suddenly snapped up at the sound of the door. Not only the door but the sound of struggle. A jolt of alarm, followed by… Well by a surge of different sort of alarm.
Ohh, Patch knew what this was. She knew exactly what this was…
This was a fuckin’ reunion.
AKA? Time to get outta’ the way.
“WHOA!!” A huge figure leaping onto the table, the piercing slam of metal on metal ringing through the little room. The young femme suddenly lurched back, on bent knees, and wide spread peddes. Throwing her servos in front of her… Before immediately trying to dive back into the fray as the large mech tipped dangerously far toward her side of the table. Trying to get a shoulder beneath him, something! An action, which very nearly resulted in her decapitation, before she could so much as make contact.
Huge wings splayed out, and stopped the femme dead in her tracks. A sudden drop as her chassis tilted back. The wick of air across her faceplate, and the front of her chest. Widened optics bobbed suddenly back with her helm A near miss the little medic quickly recovered from. Settling again about a step away, then… She started chuckling. A low, deep throaty bobble that slowly transitioned to a bright-eyed crackle. After a moment, she folded forward, then raised her helm again to look at the mechs as she spoke.
“Woohoohoo! Carbine, you cheatin’ spawn of a glitch, you never told me you were married!”
A playful, sarcastic tone. Clearly trying to poke fun at the two. Spoken through a grin, with her faceplate cocked up toward the 'lover-bots'. Silver servos planted on her knees.