Nautica (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quantumechanic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
robothell2015-02-17 06:42 pm
quantumechanic) wrote in robothell2015-02-17 06:42 pm
tagging this log constitutes consent to be hugged by a small purple autobot
Who: Nautica and whoever is not going to start shit
Where: the clinic
When: after she gets hurled into a wall (thx tfp megatron) and before she's off the robot drugs
What: drugged-up Nautica is even friendlier than regular Nautica
Warnings: shameless fluff?
A docile patient, particularly in comparison to the other people around here likely to end up in the clinic, Nautica was curled up on her side in a berth, uncomplaining despite the fresh welds spidering silver across her back and impeller housings. The circuit dampers keeping those welds from bothering her might have been slightly miscalibrated--she was a small mech, and didn't have a tolerance built up from a lifetime of hospital stays over the course of an unending war. It was hardly the medics' fault they'd erred on the high side, especially considering the scavenged supplies they had to work with.
It did mean, however, that she was feeling no pain, either literally or in the colloquial sense, and for the moment was quite involved in watching her fingers as she repeatedly flexed them into claws or drummed them somewhat less than rhythmically on the edge of the slab. Hands were so complicated.
Where: the clinic
When: after she gets hurled into a wall (thx tfp megatron) and before she's off the robot drugs
What: drugged-up Nautica is even friendlier than regular Nautica
Warnings: shameless fluff?
A docile patient, particularly in comparison to the other people around here likely to end up in the clinic, Nautica was curled up on her side in a berth, uncomplaining despite the fresh welds spidering silver across her back and impeller housings. The circuit dampers keeping those welds from bothering her might have been slightly miscalibrated--she was a small mech, and didn't have a tolerance built up from a lifetime of hospital stays over the course of an unending war. It was hardly the medics' fault they'd erred on the high side, especially considering the scavenged supplies they had to work with.
It did mean, however, that she was feeling no pain, either literally or in the colloquial sense, and for the moment was quite involved in watching her fingers as she repeatedly flexed them into claws or drummed them somewhat less than rhythmically on the edge of the slab. Hands were so complicated.
FOR HER GOOD BUDDY TARN
She reached up and turned off the monitors so they wouldn't start beeping when her life signs disappeared from the slab, disconnected her IV, pulled the needle out, and set it neatly on a tray next to her berth. Since she didn't want anyone to worry, she also left a datapad with a note. Unfortunately for the actual usefulness of said note, it read in its entirety "Be right back!" with a smiley face and a drawing of her wrench.
Responsibilities thus discharged, Nautica headed out into the city, rather more unsteadily than was reassuring, but she stayed vertical enough. Her navigational skills were suffering more than her motor control, however, and she managed to head in almost entirely the wrong direction. Eventually making her way to the least-safe location possible for someone wearing an Autobrand, she stuck her head into the door of the Decepticon stronghold where Tarn was nursing his wounds and his grievances.
"Hello? Anyone home?" She didn't wait for an answer before continuing into the building.
Re: FOR HER GOOD BUDDY TARN
He hopes whoever it is will leave him to his own dark thoughts. He isn't particularly in the mood for entertaining anyone. Especially someone with a voice that he doesn't recognize immediately. With the shame of having his faction stripped away so very fresh he isn't sure that he can think of anyone who's company he could handle at the moment. Not even a member of his own lost team. Unfortunately for him, Megatron had left the door to his hab suite open.
no subject
"Tarn? Oh Prima, what happened to you?" Her wrench could wait. This was awful. Nautica almost ran up to the berth. She was either the best actor Caminus had ever produced, or genuinely distraught.
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Still she is just as charming as ever. Tarn vaguely thinks that this sort of concern for his well being is a welcome change of pace. That is, until his eyes fall on her Autobrand and recent events come rushing back to mind.
"You should leave." He whispers, voice hoarse in comparison to his normal silky timbre
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"Don't be ridiculous." She didn't have anywhere to be besides a hospital berth, but that was boring and she felt fine. Plus, she left a note, she was pretty sure. Nautica laid a hand on Tarn's arm, lightly, where she could see there wasn't any damage. "Being hurt is bad enough without being alone, too."
no subject
"I promise you, Nautica, you don't want to be around me right now." He sighs turning his face away and digging his hand more firmly over the spot that his badge once rested. "I'm afraid I will be poor company at the moment."
no subject
She hoisted herself onto the slab to sit next to his head, twisting enough in the process that the neatly-patched damage to her back and impellers was visible, if he happened to be looking.
no subject
"What happened to you back?" He asks, a thumb running gently over a fresh weld. "Who did this?" He will make them regret it.
Stopping himself, he shakes off the thought. Nautica is an Autobot. He was going to do the same thing before he thought that he had found use in her. And good conversation, he supposes.
no subject
"It was Megatron...not either of the ones from our universe. The one with all the spikes." She patted Tarn on the shoulder, careful to miss any wounds. "It's okay, I'm fine."
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"Ah it seems we have something in common then. Minus the spikes and plus an Autobrand."
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The only thing keeping him from getting a hug was the awkward positioning. Someone really should have explained the DJD to her at some point.
no subject
"Unfortunate as it is, we don't seem to see eye to eye any longer. He made is stance on the matter very clear. For now I will make myself scarce. At least until I can decide what is to become of me on this New Cybertron. I fear that the outcome may not fall in my favor."
Tarn's voice is soft and resigned, his optics dully shining behind his mask. A sudden wave of disgust strikes. He hates to be seen this way. Weak, and depressed, and utterly useless. He wishes Nautica would leave him to his thoughts. Just this once he wants to be alone.