[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Medical Leave [Closed]

[Flatline]

"Perhaps if you did damage it, I could use it as ammunition to guilt you into doing boring tasks in my stead."

How the tables would turn with him being the one in charge... ordering Knock Out into doing the trivial jobs that were far more befitting of his skill level instead of him doing them himself. Flatline knew his talents were being squandered with what he was constantly assigned, and in turn, he daydreamed about how liberating it would be to finally earn the title of CMO for himself, holding it above the red mech with boastful arrogant pride! Was that rather mean given they were on better terms...? Perhaps. Yet the joy that would be brought from it would be hard to measure, dethroning the current champion with a hard flip of the chair and a cackle.

Until then, Knock Out was in charge, and he was using his role as a medic to bait him into walking while offering a flippant statement.

Flatline understood what this was.

Awkwardly his left leg would lift at this, before placing down, the hoof-like ped flaring slightly as a little weight was pressed atop it. While Flatline didn't take a step right away, he was testing it ever so slightly, dragging his foot back against the gritty earth to put some resistance against it and make sure the disk was fully slipped into alignment so he didn’t buckle and fall. After this groove was made in the dirt, his limb would move forward again, though this time ripping the metaphorical band-aid off. The step he took afterward was joined by a light dipping motion, the knee not wanting to bear the full brunt of his mass as his other leg carried forth, yet he didn't have much of a choice since Knock Out didn’t step over with his cane.

Well... no... he had a choice. He could easily request that the other mech bring it to him with a please and thank you, yet he somewhat understood what was happening here without it being overtly stated. Knock Out wanted to see how he walked on his own without the dependency, and he would get precisely that with no additional complaints or problems. This outing allowed them to test things with the limb that could not be accomplished with ease in the Medical Bay. Transforming, walking over uneven ground, and even how well it functioned with him going into a full sit on the earth before standing without aid.

Though, he was dreading moving down the slope to the 'graveyard'...

That experience would be fun.

Crossing the short distance with a couple of strides, Flatline would then hold his hand out once more palm side up.

"May I please have it back?"

Playing along, somewhat joking even if his voice was still subdued and beat up. It would take some time for him to fully shake off the anguish he had gone through not long previously, though he was trying his best and being as good a sport as he could be without overly complaining about everything that was going wrong.

[Knock Out]

"Boring tasks? Oh please," he laughed. "My life isn't all fun and games you know- after today is all over I'll be stuck doing mountains of paperwork. You have it easy!"

Okay, relatively easy. Crippling anxiety and sleeping at his desk every day aside, anyway.

Yes, he did admittedly lump a lot of the more mind-numbingly boring tasks onto Flatline when he had the option to – things like routine Vehicon checkups, which seemed to be almost never ending at times to the point even he had to help with them – or sanitizing and prepping tools, though Knock Out more than pulled his weight behind the scenes with the mundane. When push came to shove he did try to offer Flatline more interesting things to do as a subtle way for him to regain some confidence in doing what he loved and was good at, though those were unfortunately so few and far between as of late.

In a way, it was a good thing they didn't have folks getting themselves blown to bits every other day, if only because they didn't have the resources or equipment to deal with it on a scale they had once been able to on the Nemesis, though the other side of this coin meant that there really wasn't a whole lot to do. It was in part why he'd had no issue in taking this day trip, he knew Breakdown more than had things handled should anyone come in, which would probably just be more Vehicons - and should it be anything more? Well, they were just a groundbridge away.

Watching the other mech as he gingerly seemed to set his weight onto the injured leg, Knock Out's gaze would shift downward to take note of the knee specifically. He didn't want Flatline to feel awkward, though as a Medic as well, he could only hope he understood why the cherry-red mech was making him walk a little unaided.

What was surprising was the lack of bitching and griping about the whole thing, though it was done without issue nor fuss - to the point Knock Out seemed almost impressed, chuckling at the other mech's words.

"You may."

Being a little extra the only way he knew how, Knock Out made a point of doing an exaggerated curtsy as he delicately placed the cane into the offered servo.

"Let's go find me a decent whacking stick, mm? Do you need help getting down the hill?" he felt the need to ask even if he knew Flatline would probably decline, as while Decepticons certainly knew better than to outwardly seek help, it was just them out here, and it wasn't as if he'd tell anyone.

"You can hold my servo, if you want. Like those annoying little old ladies with their minders who take far too long at crosswalks when I'm trying to get somewhere quickly. Ah!-" he caught himself.

"Not that you're annoying, mind you. Just don't want you going aft over chassis and leaving me high and dry with all those boring tasks." he flashed the other mech a wink, offering out his servo - just in case.

[Flatline]

Oh, Knock Out was pushing his luck. Flatline had understood the other mech wanting him to try to walk on his own accord... that was expected to a degree and he would have wanted him to do the same should their roles be reversed, however, there was trying to ask him to perform a task to judge movement restrictions, and then there was what was being spoken of now. Treating him like he couldn’t handle himself. Comparing him to an elderly individual who could barely take two strides for more reasons than simply one isolated injury. While he had an older soul someone could say, given his rather bristled personality and more reserved outlook on things, he certainly was not feeble, and he didn't want others to assume that he would need to loop his arm around Knock Out's elbow for stability or who knows what.

Taking the cane in hand, Flatline whipped it around so that he was holding onto the wrong side, before swiftly swinging its handle in an upward motion at the other mech's arm. The action was sharp, practically making a thwip noise as it cut through the air, yet there was a precision to it as well, the hook aimed to strike its end into Knock Out's forearm and NOT his wrist or hand. He wasn’t out to overtly hurt him, as a medic's dexterity was directly tied to their usefulness in an emergency, yet he certainly wanted to make a point nonetheless.

"Don't you dare play chivalrous."

Whether the strike hit or not, Flatline would speak with a subdued scolding tone, shaking the handle of the cane slightly in Knock Out's direction in a way that contradicted his want to not be compared to a cranky old man.

"I still can't believe you felt winging all this was viable."

Well... he believed while also not believing. It wasn't like he and Knock Out went to some human mall to sightsee or something, assuming that they would figure out what to do while there depending on what happened to be seen... this was a vacant hellscape of dead cars. If they WEREN'T going to play this foolish spinoff version of 'golf', then what else could there possibly be to do out here? There should have been the foresight to bring something along right at the onset. Plan for the one activity that they could do, with a wishy-washy vague opening for something else if events were to veer off course. This was evidently not even considered, and then here he was, needing to pick up the fractured ideas and goals of the other mech to try to combine them back together into a cohesive thought.

It felt familiar.

So long as there was no retribution, Flatline would turn to look down the slope, thinking how best to approach the challenge without assistance. He could so easily do a partial transformation into his curled-up state and roll down, getting a head start, yet he didn't feel like enduring that kind of spinning motion, and he didn't want to get absolutely covered in dirt. This was perhaps a futile wish however given the fact he already was, the light haze of dust easy to see across his black plating. Seeming to notice this on himself, Flatline then peered at his palm a moment before he shifted and started to move sideways down the hill, his free hand at the ready to catch the ground should he start to slide at all.

[Knock Out]

The instant that Flatline took the cane back by the wrong end, Knock Out knew he had made something of a mistake and was probably about to get smacked. Even despite this feeling, however, he wouldn't step back nor away - figuring there was no point in trying to dodge what he knew was coming, if only because it was slightly warranted.

Barking out a laugh as his arm was hit, he tsk'd softly.

"Oh, my apologies for having some modicum of manners during your time of need." he teased, his other servo immediately moving after the barbaric assault to rub his 'injured' arm, briefly peering down at himself to inspect for damage.

There was no visible dent, and the only sign he'd been hit at all was the smallest of scrapes that only someone as neurotic as himself would even care about or notice, and notice it he did, though no there were no comments made.

"Well, Breakdown told me about this place as I mentioned before we left, so I'm hardly winging it, per se… as I did know it was here. Though the smacking rocks with sticks part was all me." he sounded oddly proud of this. "Primus only knows hitting things is a good way to de-stress, and out here nobody will laugh at you for making a complete moron of yourself."

Well, nobody except him of course, though he wouldn't do that. At least, not in front of others. He'd spent far too long in building Flatline's courage back up from the gutter, he wasn't about to ruin that by openly making fun of him in front of anyone who'd listen.

Deciding the smack to his arm wasn't worth commenting on, he'd fold his arms as the other mech peered down the slope itself. Despite the humor behind his words, and the comparison between Flatline and an old lady, there had been a genuine offer of help in there, one which he expected to be taken.

Until it wasn't, and the other mech started making his own way down. Awkwardly. Slowly. With baby little sidesteps as he went sideways.

"Slow and steady wins the race, mm?" he couldn't help but jab, easing into a gradual walk, aiming to move alongside the other mech. He had usage of both of his knees and so wasn't worried about a silly little slope, though upon stepping onto said incline he realized it was a little steeper than it looked at first glance, and that gradual walk quickly became a hurried sort of run as he began moving a lot faster than he'd wanted to.

Until of course, he was safely at the bottom- but hey, all that mattered was that he'd made it in one piece without falling over himself, so that was considered a win, and he'd play it up as such. He'd never tell the truth about how for a second there he had been admittedly a little scared.

Shifting his servos to his hips, he smirked up at the other mech, watching as he slowly descended and made his way down.

"Take your time, it's fine! We have all day!"

[Flatline]

"- out here nobody will laugh at you for making a complete moron of yourself."

Ah, like Knock Out's complete miss of a swing moments previously?

This thought made a smile creep across Flatline's features, once more still subdued, not bouncing back fully from his previous sadness since that still hung in the back of his mind as a constant entity, yet it was there, a glimmer in the dark of something beyond depression and anxiety. There simply was so much truth to the other mech's words about how things would remain between them, as only he and he alone would likely ever know of the incident with the failed strike of a stone. It wouldn't hold the same humor or impact when the story was retold even if he wanted to, a 'he swung my cane at a rock and missed' nowhere new a proper representation to just how comically absurd it was in the moment.

Whatever the case, he continued to advance down the hill.

While he had hoped that he could sidestep properly enough without using his hands, it ingrained to not want to touch dirty things in case he needed to do work immediately on an injured soul, it was a wish that quickly became futile, a partial moment of instability forming when some dirt came undone beneath his sharper peds that resulted in his hand slapping down to catch him from skidding onto his side. It seemed this was all that was needed to overcome the momentary fault, his gyroscopes working to counteract the rest easy enough, though his progress stopped when Knock Out barreled down past him.

Crooking his helm to watch, Flatline noted how he probably moved a little faster than he had intended, running down the slope until it leveled out enough that he could stop his progress from ending with another embarrassing incident. Oh, how funny that could have been... the arrogant mech gifting himself new scuffs and dings with a comical cartwheel, though it was for the best and it wasn’t like Flatline truly wished for him to get hurt. After witnessing this act his own progress then went back into motion, reaching the bottom enough that he took a couple of hopped strides to catch what momentum had formed much like Knock Out had on a much lesser level. His frame dipped marginally during this, yet he ended up ok enough, balanced on his good leg, finally replying to the other words with lighthearted amusement.

"All day? You certainly wish we had such freedom!"

What a way to get in trouble. Left to run free on some worthless nonproductive adventure to avoid work that needed to be completed... While he was rather efficient, meaning he could get done a weeks' worth of an average individual in under five days to make up for it, there was still the idea that 'if you can work that fast when pushed, you should always be working that fast' that may come into play, High Command wishing to utilize all possible avenues to get ahead in this war. This said, Flatline wouldn't know how well he would cope having so much put atop him, the stress load long-term potentially leading to a collapse.

After halting his momentum, the black and red mech would start into movement towards their seeming goal once again, knowing that Knock Out could easily catch up to keep pace, so getting a head start was irrelevant.

"And what, pray tell, would you tell Megatron should you be asked about our little outing?"

An angular brow hooked up at this, Flatline casting a brief glance back to see if he looked nervous or confident, before he peered ahead so he didn't unintentionally step in a hole in the dirt that his narrow ped could plunge into. The smirk from before remained in place during all of this, it apparent Flatline was adapting well enough to the new environment and being away from the cage of the Medical Bay.

[Knock Out]

Unfortunately fully aware that Flatline witnessed the obvious going-far-faster-than-intended half-run down the hill – because how could he not – Knock Out found himself relieved that attention wasn't drawn to it in the form of words or laughter. It was no doubt in part because he hadn't gone aft over chassis at the bottom and made a complete idiot out of himself, thank Primus for that, though he had been admittedly a little panicked there.

Thankfully all had ended well, though now it was Flatline's turn.

As he stood awaiting the other mech to make his way down the slope, he found himself almost prepped and ready to burst into laughter when the inevitable happened and Flatline's cane went from under him and he tumbled into an ungraceful, dusty pile of limbs. The hill was far steeper than it looked, and all it took was one misstep, and with Flatline's dodgy knee, well…

Oh… oh! It seemed like the other mech was speeding up a little bit, though nowhere near the same level that he himself had only moments earlier. He was trying not to make his excitement too obvious, shifting his weight almost as if he was bored of waiting for him, though he was ohhh so ready for Flatline to fall, even just a little bit.

He didn't want him to get hurt, after all.

Only he made it in one piece- something that was met with a smile.

"Trickier than it looked, mm?" he chuckled, easing into a walk after Flatline, hoping to negate any judgments the other mech may have had for how he'd lost control of himself for a moment there.

"As for your comment, we do have such freedom– only you're too cowardly to realize! Breakdown should already be in the Medical Bay, and should something awful come up? He knows exactly how to reach me. Until then? We have all day."

Nothing would ever happen. It never did. Even mining accidents were part of the mundanity these days, there were no thrilling battles between Decepticon and Autobot where limbs were blown into pieces, no chaos where it felt like he was doing fifty billion things at once while several patients danced at the edge between life and the great beyond. It was all just so… boring, to the point he found himself wishing that something would happen.

Even though he was having way more fun out here.

"What would I tell Megatron?" he mused, quickly catching up to the other mech, laughing.

"That this was all completely your idea, of course."