Ep.0.5 - "New Tenants" - [Closed]
Apr 28, 2012 2:24:39 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 28, 2012 2:24:39 GMT -5
They were in the rec room watching House when she got the call, leaving with a few short words of 'be back soon' before vanishing into the ground bridge. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it. Though the urgency of how she left and that look in her optics left chills in her spine… she didn't think of it. Instead she finished House, and perhaps subconsciously aware of just how anxious that look made her, rode into the Med Bay on the Apache and made sure equipment and materials were as prepped and ready as they could be. And again the next hour, and again the next. Until she realized the hours turned to days, and that the medic would be gone for longer than expected. She'd gotten more than half of her busy work done (rather than sleep) by the time Cleaver returned. With two new mechs.
That black cloud hanging over the red mech, the passing glance from Cleaver as she exited the med bay with her, left a pit in her stomach. There was a deep thrum of serious tension humming through the Neutral base ever since that day, something that turned Moonshot's status as the base cat (coming and going when he pleased) to the base ghost, no where to be seen. Those first few days she'd done something similar, though for different reasons, she thought. The work she did she attempted to keep out of the Med Bay when she could, only entering when Sleek Red (not to be confused with Ironhide-- Big Red) looked knocked out.
She knew absolutely nothing about them, other than the medical-chart synopsis from Cleaver… but they had that feel about them. Like they were close. Closer than close. And she couldn't help but feel that, at least for a few days, she should let them have their silence, their space.
That good will ended right on schedule.
The second she realized she had left one of her tools back in Med Bay was the same second she realized the feel in the air seemed familiar. Things had gone on far too uneventful for far too long, and she couldn't help but relate this same casual feeling to her very first meeting… with Barricade. 'Here we go.' She thought, climbing aboard the Apache with narrowed eyes at the universe and its inevitable habits to intervene with stability.
And she couldn't help but feel how this tension doubled its weight the moment she pulled in and saw them. Tensed and half expecting some outcry at her 'interruption', she stayed frozen on the four-wheeler.
…But the one she expected to move, didn't. He appeared to be, for all the world, deep into recharge, helm propped on the yellow mech's medical slab.
Maybe, just maybe, she misread the signs of the universe. Head tilted, she sat, and watched. Against all her experience, all her better judgement, she let herself believe that this image really was as innocent as it seemed. It only needed to last until she got what she needed, anyway, and her relatively uneventful climb to the top counters had given her a good amount of hope. It was routine. Practiced. Well-climbed and she'd done it with Cleaver around a thousand times over. 'No different.' She thought to herself, reaching while balanced on a large stack of miscellaneous stuff to the very base level of the cupboard. It made sense at the TIME to be up here working… easier to be on optic-level with Cleaver. But now… 'Fuck THIS! Possessed by her desire to keep from waking up two mechs who… looked like they could use their rest, and more than a few shots.
Chnk. 'Ahah… HAH! Got you, you li'l sucker.' Uneventful. Clean. She let herself loose the breath she was holding as she was stretched out, exhaling easily as she made the descend. With Cleaver, being lifted up and down was much simpler. But climbing on her own makeshift ladder was certainly doable, and DAMN if it didn't make her little victory lap with the universe feel so much BETTER. She peeked over her shoulder a few steps from the counter top, eyeing the unmoving red and yellow. Still asleep… still successful. Cool, collected, hot. That's her.
That black cloud hanging over the red mech, the passing glance from Cleaver as she exited the med bay with her, left a pit in her stomach. There was a deep thrum of serious tension humming through the Neutral base ever since that day, something that turned Moonshot's status as the base cat (coming and going when he pleased) to the base ghost, no where to be seen. Those first few days she'd done something similar, though for different reasons, she thought. The work she did she attempted to keep out of the Med Bay when she could, only entering when Sleek Red (not to be confused with Ironhide-- Big Red) looked knocked out.
She knew absolutely nothing about them, other than the medical-chart synopsis from Cleaver… but they had that feel about them. Like they were close. Closer than close. And she couldn't help but feel that, at least for a few days, she should let them have their silence, their space.
That good will ended right on schedule.
The second she realized she had left one of her tools back in Med Bay was the same second she realized the feel in the air seemed familiar. Things had gone on far too uneventful for far too long, and she couldn't help but relate this same casual feeling to her very first meeting… with Barricade. 'Here we go.' She thought, climbing aboard the Apache with narrowed eyes at the universe and its inevitable habits to intervene with stability.
And she couldn't help but feel how this tension doubled its weight the moment she pulled in and saw them. Tensed and half expecting some outcry at her 'interruption', she stayed frozen on the four-wheeler.
…But the one she expected to move, didn't. He appeared to be, for all the world, deep into recharge, helm propped on the yellow mech's medical slab.
Maybe, just maybe, she misread the signs of the universe. Head tilted, she sat, and watched. Against all her experience, all her better judgement, she let herself believe that this image really was as innocent as it seemed. It only needed to last until she got what she needed, anyway, and her relatively uneventful climb to the top counters had given her a good amount of hope. It was routine. Practiced. Well-climbed and she'd done it with Cleaver around a thousand times over. 'No different.' She thought to herself, reaching while balanced on a large stack of miscellaneous stuff to the very base level of the cupboard. It made sense at the TIME to be up here working… easier to be on optic-level with Cleaver. But now… 'Fuck THIS! Possessed by her desire to keep from waking up two mechs who… looked like they could use their rest, and more than a few shots.
Chnk. 'Ahah… HAH! Got you, you li'l sucker.' Uneventful. Clean. She let herself loose the breath she was holding as she was stretched out, exhaling easily as she made the descend. With Cleaver, being lifted up and down was much simpler. But climbing on her own makeshift ladder was certainly doable, and DAMN if it didn't make her little victory lap with the universe feel so much BETTER. She peeked over her shoulder a few steps from the counter top, eyeing the unmoving red and yellow. Still asleep… still successful. Cool, collected, hot. That's her.