[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Mixed Nuts [Coldwind, Knock Out, and Flamesnort

[Deleted]

Immediately Continues from Homebound

Coldwind’s draconic friend barely raised an optic ridge at the instruction. “Let’s” was his only vocal reply. As Flamesnort made to follow the powerful seeker, he glanced back at QLC briefly, concern just barely there in his tight field. One further glance back to Sounwave and the quadruped hastened after Coldwind. What was done is done and there was no more he could realistically do to help the glitched Vehicon.

He mapped out the corridors with his own internal cartography. Not difficult given the straight forward design of the new Decepticon base. Flamesnort followed a couple paces behind Coldwind. Just enough space to give the flier personal space as well as lead the way, but close enough that he wasn't lagging behind. Flamesnort took in all he could of the walls, minimising how much of Coldwind’s back he had to endure. It wasn't that he found her attractive in any definite way, more the avoidance of his eye level being her aft plate. It could lead to any manner of bad situations, most of which he had experienced in his long life.

“Anything pertinent I should know in forewarning of meeting the Good Doctor?” He asked politely.

[Coldwind]

How crude. Was this Coldwind's job now? Dogsitting. Painfully exhausting, especially considering that she would have to deal with Knock Out in but a few moments. And given that the femme wanted this over with as soon as possible, they certainly weren't taking the scenic route to the medical bay. Not like there was one to begin with. If there was anything scenic about Blackridge at all, it was the outside—and that was subjective at best.

And now she had to make small talk with Flamesnort.

"Don't argue with him, get your check-up and be done fast. I'm not in the mood for another argument with Knock Out of all people."

Her opinions on the CMO were clear. She did not like him much, and in turn, he did not like her. She was a difficult patient and he was a difficult personality. That was about the worst combination you could get, especially when considering the somewhat psychotic and cutthroat nature of the modern-day Decepticons. Something Flamesnort had yet to properly reconcile with his antiquated opinions. The sooner he got rid of that pesky morality, the better.

But for now, at least getting a feel for the environment would have to do. While the two of them trudged through the narrow hallways, they often had to make room for mingling Vehicons and drones crawling through the complex like a bunch of ants. From post to post, from assignment to assignment. Blackridge, despite its famous lack of polish, was a functional outpost in every sense of the word. It was effective, utilitarian and—most importantly—ruthless. It exemplified every aspect of modern Decepticonism to its literal definition. Those who wouldn't comply were removed.

Coldwind only hoped that QLC met a similar fate.

It would be quite unfortunate if the two of them had to cross paths again, and he was none the worse for his utter lack of standards. In every sense of the word, the Vehicons they passed insofar were his complete antithesis. Silent, obedient, productive.

Coldwind still hated them, of course. They were lesser beings with weak sparks and terrible processing capabilities. Lobotomized half-men with only as much brain as was necessary to aim and squeeze the trigger. At the very least, they didn't complain about their lot in life and were incapable of raising a hand against their masters.

And if through some gross accident they somehow did, Coldwind had every right to silence them—permanently and with no consequences. This was the way of things now, and though Flamesnort might have had the mind to change that, ultimately, he could never feasibly succeed.

[Deleted]

Flamensort remained content to follow Coldwind, blissfully ignorant of her internal monologue. Given her derogatory nature towards the Vehicons, and now possibly this Knockout medic, Flamesnort decided that he would do his best to please the medic, stay on the good side of the doctor if possible, and hopefully ruffle Coldwind’s feathers. It was likely to be an extremely dangerous game, but the idea of annoying Coldwing had a pleasant tone to it. Flamesnort, metaphorically keeping his head close to the ground often failed to see people for who they were, but even he could see the savage bigoted nature evident in the seeker. He didn't like it but could tell she was a powerful tool for the Decepticon forces.

While he had the opportunity, he decided in the end afterall to study the back of the seeker. Mentally he picked out possible weak spots. He sincerely hoped to never face Coldwind in battle, the idea of attacking another ‘con repugnant. But if push ever came to shove he would be as ready as possible. Their ideologies clashed, his wouldn't budge, and he guessed Coldwind would happily defend hers rather violently. Flamesnort didn't have too much time to study however as they soon arrived at the door to the Good Doctor’s office.

Flamesnort looked up to Coldwind, a patiently polite look waiting on the seeker to make introductions.

[Coldwind]

Unlike many, many rooms at Blackridge, the medical bay at the very least had a door, affording Knock Out, Breakdown, and their patients whatever passed for privacy by Decepticon standards. However, Coldwind didn't have much respect for privacy, at the very least certainly not Knock Out's—not after the last time. She formed a tight fist and banged against the door a few times, the pipelines on her forearm releasing a whiff of chilly air, crusting the entryway with a thin layer of frost.

Unsure if that would be enough—given Knock Out's penchant for distraction—Coldwind decided to comm him. He could've been in the middle of a surgery or out racing among the humans again, or, Primus forbids, swapping paint with his "assistant." Really, it didn't matter what he was doing because Coldwind didn't give a single iota either way. He'd have to make time no matter what.

::Knock Out, I've got a new patient for you—Soundwave's orders. I think you might find this one interesting::

Gravely, professional tone. Straight to the point and nothing else.

She then glanced at Flamesnort for a little while before turning back towards the meaty metal slab separating the two of them from the good doctor. The way Coldwind worded her little message to him was quite deliberate. Pique his curiosity, fall back on Soundwave's authority—anything to avoid another hassle with Knock Out. He could be so exhausting sometimes and she didn't want to find out just how much energy he could dedicate to being petty.

[Knock Out]

Moments of peace and quiet were few and far between as of late.

With many of their Vehicon forces made to work in the mines, it’d meant a frustrating upswing of mining related injuries. They were easy enough to fix up most of the time. A crushed limb here, a severed limb there - it was mostly the number of them that had been an annoyance as they were seemingly never-ending.

Oh yes, Knock Out could make the job easier on himself by delegating a Vehicon or five to Flatline, given the black and red mech had been tasked to working alongside him. But they weren’t quite at that level of ‘friendship’ yet, and it was still rather amusing having the other medic demean himself with simple janitorial duties such as sweeping the floors.

Which honestly, was a never-ending task as well, given the state of Blackridge. If it weren’t for the door keeping most of the dust out, Knock Out would’ve thrown an absolute hissy fit. It was a feat in itself they managed to keep this place sterile - or at least the areas used for surgery, anyway.

It was one of those rare moments of peace and quiet that Knock Out found himself in. Flatline was not here, nor was Breakdown. But more importantly? There were no Vehicons whining about injuries, and unless there was an dire emergency? The schedule for the rest of the day was pretty sparse.

The cherry-red CMO sat at his desk, attention on a small datapad. He wasn’t doing any work, but appeared to be watching something, as occasionally he would chuckle. Binge-watching a show on company time? He was all about that life.

Until a heavy knock on the door, then another, drew his attention away and he fumbled, almost dropping the datapad as he quickly moved to turn it off.

Primus, they didn’t have to knock, whoever it was. Then again if it wasn’t an emergency and someone just wanting a simple visit, maybe they were just being polite.

But then his comm clicked to life, and the voice on the end- well, Coldwind was anything but polite. She was an individual that he didn’t really like. Their first meeting hadn’t been the best, and it’d left a sour impression.

Only- while he’d been expecting rudeness, a demand to see him or an insult or two? She was being rather professional and somewhat courteous with what she said - and that last part certainly roused his curiosity. 

::Oh? Mm, one moment.::

Soundwave’s orders? The Spymaster hadn’t sent anything regarding a new pati- wait. Yup, there it was. On his datapad, oh-so-conveniently behind the window he’d had open up until now. He didn’t look at the details nor even open the attached file on the newcomer, which he probably should’ve, as interesting was right given who the patient actually was.

Maybe it would’ve prepared him a little for what he was about to see.

With a cheery hum, he would get to his pedes, quickly making his way across the Medical Bay to pull open the door. Normally he would’ve told Coldwind to open the damn thing herself, but with a new Decepticon in tow? Well, first impressions went a long way!

His gaze was drawn to Coldwind first, given she was so imposingly large and somewhat threatening in presence, but then-

“Wait, what?!”

He quickly cleared his throat some, realizing that his startled confusion had slipped out into actual words and would shift his weight, attention lingering on Flamesnort.

“Apologies. Uh- Wasn’t expecting well, that - uh. You.”

He’d dealt with those who had more bestial forms, but it was absolutely not his area of expertise. Still though, he was the only capable medic in this place which meant Flamesnort would have to make do.

“Please, do come in.” he realized he’d kinda just been standing here gawking a second, how utterly unprofessional but Coldwind could’ve warned him.

What was that about first impressions?

[Deleted]

Flamesnort chuckled gently with genuine mirth. He wasn't too socially inept to not recognise a faltering first introduction. If there was a prize for bad first impressions, Knockout wouldn't make it past the qualifiers however. Flamesnort had been subject to much much worse. Even dear QLC didn't make the podium. He was confident in his own mettle that deliberate or indirect insults failed to impact his thick hide.

The quadruped followed after the other, letting them still lead the way. “I am Flamesnort, you are Knockout, do I have that correct? I’ll keep my story simple so as to not annoy our friend Coldwind much further, I’ve been in and out of stasis for the past million years guarding an energon stash here on this poor excuse of a planet. Soundwave has been...pertinent... ordering that I pass a checkup before committing to duties.”

As he stepped into the good doctors office, he looked around with satisfaction and the order and cleanliness his optics were presented with. He studied Knockout as well studying his mannerisms and motions, judging. So far his decision to try to stay on the medics good side was achievable, he was much more polite than the seeker.

[Coldwind]

Coldwind simply stood there like the third wheel she was. A very annoyed, grumpy, and dangerous third wheel. She did not sign up for this, but alas, Soundwave commanded. She could not reject her solemn charge...of babysitting an overgrown lizard and a mimsy wimp. The more she repeated that in her mind, the more ridiculously demeaning it sounded. She was once among Starscream's right-hand bots. This was not an assignment worth her status.

"And I'm stuck with him, so you better be quick about this," Coldwind grunted as she forced her way into the medbay right behind Flamesnort. She always found Blackridge to be stuffy, even the larger places such as this one. It did not do her mental state any good—and Coldwind's temper was already fragile like glass to begin with. A Seeker needed her space. Oh, what she would not give for a roomy ship with a runway on the top and spacious accommodations for all its personnel. Too bad they had to go and sink one of those before she even came to the planet.

But petty grievances aside, she tried to be a lot less aggro with the medic this time around. Knock Out was, for all his many faults, their most competent doctor. Not to mention that Soundwave wanted him and Coldwind to play nice. As boring as that was, she would not risk giving the Spymaster any more blackmail material. He surely had plenty already.

[Knock Out]

Knock Out could only smile as Flamesnort chuckled, feeling some relief that the other mech… uh.. Dinosaur? Wasn’t offended by him gawking. He honestly hadn’t meant to, but he hadn’t been expecting anything like this to wander into his Medical Bay.

After the gawking was over, he would walk backwards some, leading the pair further into the room, listening as Flamesnort spoke. At least he seemed polite, which was another thing he had judged instantly, and was pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t rude or even even really socially stunted - especially if he’d been alone for so long.

“I am Knock Out, yes. Nice to meet you, Flamesnort.”

He chuckled at the mention of not annoying Coldwind, and it took everything in him not to make a jab at her expense. It wasn’t exactly hard to annoy Coldwind, but after their first interaction he knew better than to poke at her - knowing Soundwave was probably lurking nearby at least somewhere.

“Stuck with him? Ah, no, you can go if you want. Fairly certain I can take it from here.” he’d lean to one side so he could address Coldwind as he spoke, flashing her a wink which he hoped wouldn’t set her off. The last thing he needed - or wanted - was her making grunts and snarled comments throughout the checkup.

“Or, if you’ve been ordered to wait with him, you can stay outside the room if you want.”

Turning back to Flamesnort then, Knock Out would peer at him a moment as if sizing him up, before looking to one of the medical berths. While he wasn’t exactly large, his body shape was- well, he was a lizard.

Eh. If the medical berths had enough room for Megatron, they’d have enough room for Flamesnort.

“If you’d like to make your way up and onto a medical berth I will be with you in a moment.”

He’d need a minute or two to get the various tools ready, as well as read up on whatever file Soundwave had no doubt sent over to even work out where to begin with this.

Little out of his comfort zone? Just a bit.

[Deleted]

Flamesnort simply nodded politely at Knockout’s request for him to ascend the berth. It was approximately at his own shoulder height so he briefly peered around the table for steps. Seeing none, he had little option but to hop on top, which in his condition would not be very graceful. 

First, he stood up on his hind legs, and rose to his full height. He faced Coldwind and considered his words and feelings for a moment. “I leave it to your better judgement if you feel you must stay, but if you do go, you’ll likely miss your first and best opportunity to see for yourself my strengths and weaknesses.” His tone was level and respectful, but with just a hint of offered friendship. Flamensort had realised that after a million years alone, even Coldwind was good company.

Flamesnort lumbered the couple of steps to the berth, put his front feet down on it, and hopped up. He lacked grace currently, his movements when doing more than walking were just a little stilted. There was also a very faint metal on metal grinding sound from his right hip, barely audible. Judging position briefly, he settled down onto his belly, his legs tucked up and his tail dangling off the side. He was facing the door rather than the head of the table like most patients would. 

“If it’s any consolation Doctor, though I am a quad frame, my structure and internals are still the norm...mostly.” he added with a slight grin. Any social stigma was a minor inconvenience at most compared to the benefits hidden in his chassis. And he was still a modern descendent of Primus. 

[Coldwind]

Coldwind considered her options. She could either read Flamesnort's files once they were established, in the relative peace and quiet of her room...or she would have to spend more time with Knock Out and Flamesnort. Especially Knock Out. Decisions, decision.

"The offer is tempting but your personal files will make for better company than Knock Out. I'm sure he'll be happy to have me out of his office as well."

Blunt, honest, quick. She said only so much and began to make her leave of the room. Before the conversation shifted back to Flamesnort's checkup, she was already gone. Primus above knows that seeing Flamesnort do his thing was not worth spending any extended amount of time in the same room as Knock Out—especially when she had other options.

On her way through the corridors, Coldwind thought back to the good old days. Back then, she was babysitting her squadron instead of Flamesnort. Ah, those were the days. There was Aries, and Slips, and Traffic, and Raystorm. Thinking about them brought back a flow of fond memories...which she quickly strangled by reminded herself that she is the reason they're all pushing up lugnuts now.

The past was of no moment to her. Not anymore. There was only the hunt now.

[Knock Out]

Knock Out busied himself in getting ready for what he hoped would be a rather standard and routine procedure. He’d done checkups on Ravage before - and this would hopefully be no different, only instead of a rather judgmental feline it was… what even was Flamesnort? He’d never seen anything like him before, that much was certain.

He had half a mind to call Flatline in here, to see what the other mech made of him- but he wasn’t sure where he was hiding at present, nor did he feel like wandering the halls of Blackridge to find him. The black and red mech had been exceptionally on edge as of late and it wasn’t worth the bother.

Humming quietly to himself, he found the tools needed, as well as a datapad - and while he wasn’t listening in directly to what the other two were saying, his attention and gaze snapped to Coldwind as she mentioned his name.

“That I would.”

Hopefully it wouldn’t be enough to cause issue or to insult Coldwind to the point she came storming back in here to punch him in the face- and there was a flicker of a second when Knock Out found himself tensing some.

Okay, the coast was clear. At least for now.

Turning to Flamesnort then, he would smile.

“Mostly? Well, I suppose I can work with that.” he’d chuckle, making his way over to the berth. His attention would then drift down to the datapad as he carefully set the tools down, expertly sliding a thumb across the screen as he scrolled down the report that Soundwave had sent across.

“So, England, huh? Never been there myself. Although they do have fabulous cars- my own altmode is of British make, in fact. Oh, ah- so, you were guarding Energon all this time? Whatever did you do to stop yourself dying from sheer boredom?”

He didn’t have the patience for that kind of thing, then again he didn’t have the patience for much these days. Something about Blackridge irked him, but unfortunately, he would simply have to suck it up and deal with it.

[Deleted]

The latest Decepticon to rejoin the ranks watched as Coldwind left. He would have to keep an optic on her Flamesnort thought. Her overly zealous brutal nature was not to be taken lightly.

Flamesnort considered Knockout's words carefully. The mix of cybertronian with local place names was surprisingly easy in Falmesnort's processor. Apparently he had spent enough time on that primus damned island to learn enough English. He hadn't realised that certain words, like England, would now be so natural.

"I believe my alt is scanned from an aerial vehicle made by the squishies of the same faction and landmass." He thought about this for a moment. He really was such a poor flier, that the primitive vehicle he wore as a disguise didn't actually hinder his ability in any noticeable way. 

"Well, I nearly died of sheer boredom." A little joke though it had been close to the truth more than once. "Honestly though, patience is my virtue. It was part of why I was chosen. I spent a good deal of time in stasis, and no small amount of time asleep too. When I deigned to go abroad and stretch, I took some small pleasure in harassing the squishies. Though I have mostly stopped for the last millenium." One shipborne cannon was enough. He had been bored, not reckless. He also chose to leave out that he taught himself astrocartography and astronomy. His skill was so amateur as to be not worth mentioning. 

"Puzzles, one billion games of solitaire and sudoku. I worry for my processor." Flamesnort would have fought Primus himself for any puzzle game with another player to engage him.

Flamesnort nodded at in the direction Coldwind had left. "She does not hold any command here does she?" His tone held only curiosity, he didn't worry that Coldwind's nature was now part of the norm and so jarring to his own nature, because he wouldn't have believed it

[Knock Out]

“Ooh, well clearly they have good taste. Or we do. Probably the latter.”

He chuckled at that. He’d seen many a vehicle in his time here on this dustball of a planet, and the majority of them were just straight-up gaudy. His own altmode was rather spectacular, however, and he could only wonder what a British flier would look like. Something classy, he assumed. There was a rough wireframe in the data that’d been sent over, but that was nothing compared to seeing the real thing.

“I don’t blame you at all. I would’ve lasted about a day, I’m sure.”

He wouldn’t look up from the datapad, scrolling through it as he assessed the necessary details, although he was listening well to what Flamesnort was saying.

“Harassing the squishies, mm? Glad you got that out of your system, you don’t exactly blend in.” he’d glance over the top of the datapad to flash a wink, before going back to reading.

“Then again, I can’t talk- I find there’s a certain je ne sais quoi in absolutely thrashing them at racing.”

Deciding he’d seen enough of whatever was on the datapad, he would use his thumb to quickly type something, before swiping it to one side.

“Sudoku, mm? I know there are a few datapads here with some human games on them. Chess and, ah… Checkers, I believe? Probably all the rage among some of the Vehicons. You didn’t hear that from me, though.”

The last thing he wanted to do was encourage bad behavior, then again if Flamesnort got caught playing games? That was entirely on him.

“Mm?” at the question, he would turn his attention in the direction of the doorway.

“Oh, Primus no. At least not that I’m aware. Close to Starscream, I do know that- so probably assumes she can get away with far more than she actually should.” he’d lightly shrug, before turning back to his patient.

“Going to run a quick diagnostic on you, just to make sure everything is as it should be. You seem fine at a glance, but this will let us know if there’s anything wrong internally. Must say you’re rather alert and with it considering how long you were trapped in a cave.”

At that, he would carefully ease an innocuous line from the crook of Flamesnort’s leg, inserting it into the datapad a moment later. There was a gentle whir, then a ‘blip’ of confirmation as the other mech’s vitals would appear on the screen a moment later.

“Given we are not on the Nemesis, this will probably take a bit longer than it normally should.” he sighed, voice a drone almost as if he’d had to repeat that line a hundred times over to many an impatient Vehicon.

Setting the datapad down while it did the routine scan, he would hum.

“So, any questions about Blackridge?”

Might as well pass the time with conversation, he figured.

[Deleted]

The more Knockout spoke, the more Flamesnort liked the medic, he was pleasant, stimulating company in ways that neither Coldwind nor QLC had been, well spoken, easy going and seemingly friendly. Three big ticks. Despite this, Flamesnort visibly tensed up at the good doctor’s touch. Physical contact with another Cybertronian was almost alien after so long alone. Flamensort wanted to both scuttle away, and incinerate. Instead he just clamped down hard on instincts and forced himself to replace fear with trust. He knew he needed this, needed the medical attention after so long without proper maintenance.

Flamesnort made mental notes as the medic spoke, trying his best to keep track. It was good to know that Knockout had an appropriate level of humour regarding the sentient natives, not too blase about their existence. He made a note to check with the vehicons about tactical games. Sudoku got old after a few hundred years. Flamesnort was also thankful to hear that Coldwind held no official power, but he was wise enough to recognise she still had some political pull. He would be careful.

“I am glad you think I am alert. It is difficult to be an unbiased judge from the perspective of inside one’s own head. Though I fear I would falter at more than humble conversation.” Flamesnort paused to consider Knockout’s question because truly he had so many questions himself, so he said so.

“I have so many questions, I am unsure where to begin. I gather some information will be gleaned in due time. So...what is the official situation of the Decepticon presence in these hewn hallways?” Flamesnort looked at Knockout with curious attention.

[Knock Out]

The slight tensing of Flamesnort’s frame was not lost on Knock Out - being a Medic, he knew that most were uncomfortable with Medical Bays and those that worked within them. There was a certain fear that came with these environments, and he completely understood it. This commonplace phobia was what he assumed the tension was- nothing to do with the fact the other mech hadn’t had any sort of contact in millennia and was undoubtedly touch starved.

As such, he would continue on. Should Flamesnort find himself too uncomfortable in being poked and prodded, all he had to do was speak up.

“Well, you seem more alert than most- I’ll give you that.”

Knock Out chuckled, before continuing.

“Some of the Vehicons I see seem to be half asleep at times. Then again, Starscream has the majority of them working hard in the various Energon mines that litter the planet. The ones that aren’t? They are focused here on expanding Blackridge.”

Sure did suck to be a Vehicon, and he was thankful that he was many, many ranks above them. They worked tirelessly, and probably didn’t quite get the credit they quite deserved at times. He couldn’t complain too much, though - with mining came injuries that needed fixing, so he was kept busier than usual with things that weren’t just mundane checkups and boring maintenance.

The question that was asked made him hum quietly in thought, and he’d loosely shrug. While the datapad did its thing and gathered the necessary readings, Knock Out would make himself useful and began cleaning down one of the many benches in the room.

“You mean why are we here instead of safely floating above the clouds on our flying fortress?”

There was an almost-wistful exhale of a sigh, and he’d glance over and across to the other mech.

“Long story. The condensed version is that a virus ran rampant among the Decepticon forces, and Soundwave ended up crashing the Nemesis into the bottom of the Ocean.”

Okay maybe that was too condensed. He’d elaborate more if need be, but he didn’t want to overwhelm Flamesnort with tales of gloom and doom, even if it did mean he’d get to smack-talk Flatline a little bit in the process as he was the one that started the whole mess.

...Where was the black and red mech, anyway? Usually cowering in some corner of the Medical Bay getting on with his work, he didn’t seem to be here at this moment of time. Shame.

“Uh- We’re all fine now, though. So no worries there. While you should be safe, we can’t be too careful, so I’ll be doing a quick Energon scan along with everything else.”

Better safe than sorry, especially as Flamesnort had been on Earth for millennia.

“As for Blackridge… You will be given a room in which to recharge, the only downside is there will be roommates. I am not sure how they are assigned, so you may want to seek out Soundwave and find out once we’re done here.”

Another thing he was thankful for. Being a high ranking officer meant he didn’t have to live with the peasants that made up the rest of the Decepticon forces - and had a room out the way, complete with an actual door.

It really was the little things.

He hadn’t gotten very far with sanitizing the bench - too distracted by talking and his own thoughts, it seemed - when the datapad on the berth beside Flamesnort would blip, signifying that it’d finished its initial scan.

“Let’s see here…”

With a hum, he would make his way over, picking up the datapad. His expression remained neutral as his optics peered down at the screen, reading over the results. If there was anything horribly and truly wrong? He didn’t show it.

“Huh.” with his thumb, he would slide up and down the… rather short report.

He’d expected more, especially with how long Flamesnort had been without any sort of medical aid.

“Not a whole lot wrong at all, actually. Let’s see… Energon and coolant levels are lower than what is considered normal, but not entirely unexpected given the circumstances. Your scanners seem to be slightly off, but that’s nothing a quick recalibration won’t fix. T-Cog is … spectacular, actually. Getting trace readings for salt so there’s probably been some corrosion, but if you don’t have any signs of rust you will probably be okay there.”

A hum, he’d look over and across to Flamesnort.

“When was the last time you transformed? Not that I’m asking you to do so now, just- would like to know for curiosity’s sake.”

Could he even transform? He had a T-Cog so that was an obvious yes, but what the heck did he shift into?