Ep0.5 - Cleaver's quarters - 'Oh.' - Closed
Mar 24, 2012 21:19:35 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2012 21:19:35 GMT -5
It was getting a little easier - as measured in atomic microns - to loosen his vocalizer into speaking. A little easier to fish out one or two actually halfway coherent thought threads and then filter them into words, the glyphs that accompanied them cracking and breaking but the words intact. "Ah can't... Ah don't even know where t' start, dahrlin'."
Except... OH, except he did. It hit him with enough force to stall his vents out again, optics spiraling painfully wide for an entirely new reason, plates clicking out, flared and bristling, before he could even think to try to stop them. Hot, she'd said. The plates would get hot. Fuel, she'd said. Supplements. Manufacturing, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what went into an entire sparkling frame but he knew intimately and very well what sort of draw nano manufacturing plants for solid state hardware could create, and the larger and more complex the hardware was, the worse the draw.
Cleaver was making a SPARKLING.
It was a little like taking a sucker cannon blast to the body, the way it knocked the ventilation from him. She would need... oh Primus. Fuels, and he'd just seen her throw back two whole ration cubes like shots of high grade. Metals, minerals, she was still healing from her OWN injury and he didn't know how that prioritized in her systems, which came first in her protocols, her own frame or the sparkling's.
Alarm was starting to swamp everything else. He didn't know, didn't know what she needed, or when, or how often, or ANY of it, and it was huge gaping HOLES of things he didn't know that were suddenly, painfully, crucial. "What do yeh need?" he managed to blurt out, optics flicking back and forth between her face and chassis. "Ah mean... yeh said... yeh'll need things. What do yeh need?"
What can Ah do? The words didn't quite make it past his vocalizer but he pressed them into her in field and glyph, urgent, resolute - anything, Anything, ANYTHING.
Except... OH, except he did. It hit him with enough force to stall his vents out again, optics spiraling painfully wide for an entirely new reason, plates clicking out, flared and bristling, before he could even think to try to stop them. Hot, she'd said. The plates would get hot. Fuel, she'd said. Supplements. Manufacturing, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what went into an entire sparkling frame but he knew intimately and very well what sort of draw nano manufacturing plants for solid state hardware could create, and the larger and more complex the hardware was, the worse the draw.
Cleaver was making a SPARKLING.
It was a little like taking a sucker cannon blast to the body, the way it knocked the ventilation from him. She would need... oh Primus. Fuels, and he'd just seen her throw back two whole ration cubes like shots of high grade. Metals, minerals, she was still healing from her OWN injury and he didn't know how that prioritized in her systems, which came first in her protocols, her own frame or the sparkling's.
Alarm was starting to swamp everything else. He didn't know, didn't know what she needed, or when, or how often, or ANY of it, and it was huge gaping HOLES of things he didn't know that were suddenly, painfully, crucial. "What do yeh need?" he managed to blurt out, optics flicking back and forth between her face and chassis. "Ah mean... yeh said... yeh'll need things. What do yeh need?"
What can Ah do? The words didn't quite make it past his vocalizer but he pressed them into her in field and glyph, urgent, resolute - anything, Anything, ANYTHING.