| Hey, welcome to the Lost Light! Glad to have you aboard! We're on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron and you're welcome to join us. The more the merrier! Guests are limited, but if you sign up, you'll be able to access our member-only sectors. Look, finding Cyberutopia and the Knights isn't going to be easy. The universe is full of danger and we've all got our share of issues, but with all of us working together to find the Knights, we can do it! We will find them and show the universe there's more to us than meets the eye! So, what are you waiting for? Join the crew! |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Of the Spark; Open thread. [Complete] | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: 28 Feb 2016, 03:52 AM (298 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 12 Mar 2016, 01:06 PM Post #16 |
|
Deleted User
|
Tailgate followed Cyclonus' gesturing, watching as one of the swaying mechs leaned a little too far and crashed to the floor; the horribly off-key singing devolved into helpless giggles and the unfortunate mech's friends followed them in an impromptu bot-pile. Swerve's was getting progressively more rowdy as the cycle wore on and more of the crew emerged from their habsuites, and even this table - usually given a wide berth, as it was Cyclonus' preferred haunt - was starting to see a lot more traffic. People were beginning to outright stare at Tailgate, and they guessed it wouldn't be long until they'd have no more privacy at all. After Luna 1, they'd basked in the praise and attention of being the hero they'd dreamed (and lied) of being. Now, however, in the wake of this conversation, with an aching spark and so many memories and questions weighing down their processor, all the minibot really wanted was to check up on the rest of their friends and then recharge for a week straight. "Yeah," they finally said, accompanying it with a long ex-vent. The bot-pile on the floor was trying to sing again, drunken, discordant voices interjected with a joyful "Ten!" from the legislator every few seconds. That gave Tailgate an idea, and they turned back to Cyclonus, brightening their visor in forced cheer. "...Hey, d'you think we can still do the singing lessons? I know I skipped a bunch when..." A careful shrug. When I ditched everyone to go fishing with Getaway was left unsaid. "...You know. I kinda miss them." If he even wanted to continue the lessons. A pretty big if, considering how Tailgate had simply ran out of the first one, hoverboard under an arm, rushed "Getaway-invited-me-to-the-reservior-bye!" and then not shown up to any of the rest. Looking back, that'd been pretty rude, especially since Cyclonus had first extended the lessons as a sign of trust. Way to go, Tailgate. |
|
|
| Deleted User | 12 Mar 2016, 10:03 PM Post #17 |
|
Deleted User
|
The bar had begun to fill up, groups of mechs taking seats nearby. Upon noticing a few staring at Tailgate, and even some at himself, he directed his gaze upon them, a silent challenge to make a wrong move. Not now, not after what had happened. He was not taking any chances with Tailgate, even with their newfound power. He was not risking losing them again if he could help it. Tailgate’s voice brought him away from the nosey patrons and back to them and their conversation. And away from the possibilities and worries that stacked ever higher within the warrior’s processor. “…Hey, d'you think we can still do the singing lessons? I know I skipped a bunch when... You know. I kinda miss them.” Cyclonus didn’t flinch when the drunken singing picked up, loud and slurred, with Ten even joining in. Grating on the audials, perhaps. But it was better than the alarms blaring again. He nodded, having long since forgiven Tailgate for skipping out on the lessons. He couldn’t entirely blame them, not many on the ship liked to spend time around a taciturn old thing such as himself. But... he did miss singing with his friend. “Of course. Though, we can always reschedule, you know, if you are preoccupied.” He wouldn’t mind. While the singing lessons provided him a chance at keeping the spirit and memory of the Cybertron he knew alive, there wasn't much else for him to do on the ship itself during downtime, other than spend his time either in Swerve's, offering to help serve the customers and join Ten in shooing out the troublemakers, or alone, staring out into space. At least this offered him a chance to show Tailgate the Cybertron they'd missed out on being so young, a planet proud and beautiful, with spires and towers that seemed to lead into space itself. Leaning back into his seat, he became painfully aware of the aches creeping into his joints, wondering when exactly had he gotten so old. |
|
|
| Deleted User | 13 Mar 2016, 06:18 PM Post #18 |
|
Deleted User
|
“Of course. Though, we can always reschedule, you know, if you are preoccupied.” "Good!" Tailgate chirped, having to raise their voice over the growing volume of the bar, and inwardly promised to never miss or reschedule another lesson - they were going to commit, this time. Nothing short of Rodimus crashing the Lost Light into an asteroid was going to stop Tailgate from making up every lost session with their friend; even with what was no doubt going to be a lot of leftover awkwardness from this conversation. They'd been an absolutely horrid friend to everyone for so long, and it was time to start making amends. The disposal unit's visor dimmed as Cyclonus shifted and they scooted forward, a sudden pang of guilt and worry hitting them. Cyclonus had looked fine, but the two of them had been sitting for a while, and the last time Tailgate had seen their friend before this he'd been- Flashes, the sound of gunfire and the sharp tang of energon in the air, quiet words pressed to the top of their helm. "Cyclonus?" "Is your back okay?" Servos reached out across the table, hesitating before purple plating. Swerve's once again faded to background noise. "I've not- is it bad? Well I mean, Velocity wouldn't let you leave before she thought you could handle it, right? But you're leaning on it and I know you don't really like the medibay and can I see it? Are you in pain? I've got some pain blockers-" They were babbling now, but the thought of Cyclonus sitting there in stoic pain all night because of his warrior's pride or whatever was too much. A quick dive into subspace and they brought out the small container of medicine, rattling and a little less than half empty; Ratchet had prescribed quite the regimen after Tailgate's cybercrosis recovery. Lingering joint pain meant they had to keep a few, plus some fairly effective pain blockers that they were now shaking out into their hand. Would they need any of that any more? "Really shouldn't take these with engex, but whatever," Tailgate muttered. "Did Lotty give you any? Are they back in the hab? You should go back there and get some rest - not on your back." |
|
|
| Deleted User | 14 Mar 2016, 02:56 PM Post #19 |
|
Deleted User
|
The both of them fell into silence then. It was awkward, yes, given the subject only moments before, but not unwelcome. He was glad that Tailgate was still interested in the singing lessons, hell, Cyclonus had been excited himself. Not that he showed it, but them accepting his offer had been appreciated. He noticed the sudden flash of worry in Tailgate's optics, and then-- "Is your back okay? I've not- is it bad? Well I mean, Velocity wouldn't let you leave before she thought you could handle it, right? But you're leaning on it and I know you don't really like the medibay and can I see it? Are you in pain? I've got some pain blockers-" Tailgate fished into their subspace, retrieving a small container, opening it and shaking out the small capsules. There was lingering pain, yes, but he had begrudgingly let Velocity treat his wounds and fix the holes in his plating, while against his beliefs to just replace parts that weren't needed (wearing the horn Tailgate had made for him was an exception, he was sure his track record could stand a minor sin when it came to a dying friend), it wouldn't do well for him to walk around with deep, glaring weaknesses in his plating, especially if there was a significant chance he was going to be needed in battle. Really shouldn't take these with engex, but whatever, did Lotty give you any? Are they back in the hab? You should go back there and get some rest - not on your back." "Keep them, you may need them. I'm fine." Cyclonus reached forward, gently closing their fingers around the blockers. He had assured Velocity the pain was nothing he couldn't deal with, but she'd insisted on him taking a few pain blockers with him, and urged him to return if he needed more, or a stronger sort. He pulled the container from his own subspace, shaking it so they would rattle against the sides. "I've got my own." However, resting did sound like a good idea, however. He slowly stood, stiff. He reached forward, resting a hand on his friend's helm, expression soft as he spoke. "Perhaps I will rest. It's been a long few cycles." Take care. With that, he turned and walked out, bidding Swerve goodnight with a wave. |
|
|
| Deleted User | 14 Mar 2016, 09:20 PM Post #20 |
|
Deleted User
|
The feeling of warmth from Cyclonus' hand was welcome, light pressure grounding Tailgate and slowing their worry like tar. They still wanted a look at his back - they didn't doubt that Velocity was a good doctor, but ever since Temptoria there'd been a lingering fear of Cyclonus being tossed aside or 'forgotten'. Covertly (and, occasionally, not-so-covertly) checking out Cyclonus' injuries after a combat mission had become somewhat of a habit, with his preference for a sword over long-range weaponry. Even if Tailgate had to sneak up on Cyclonus during recharge later, they were going to get a good look at his back. A memory of a dark room, redlit, the low drone of a recharge monitor and needles glinting in the gloom- ...Or they'd just wait until Cyclonus was awake. That seemed better. "Keep them, you may need them. I'm fine. I've got my own." Tailgate almost insisted, anyway, but bit it back and reluctantly withdrew their servo and funneled the capsules back into the container, and that back into subspace. How rigid their friend's frame was as he stood earned a stern glare, but that quickly faded when a hand landed on Tailgate's helm. They tilted up into the touch, pushing a flicker of concern/calm/happiness through their field into the momentary connection. "Perhaps I will rest. It's been a long few cycles." "Rest well," the minibot chirped. "I'll see you later, okay? Comm. me if you need anything!" A quick sweep of his back before the crowd swept him up, and then he was out the door and gone. Tailgate slumped back and ex-vented heavily, weariness and a dull, throbbing ache settling into their spark. They stared blankly at Cyclonus' empty glass, straw jutting to the side, before reaching out and grabbing it, sliding from the table and nudging their way through the crowd. They were going to need to apologise to Swerve - about the table, and the last few weeks. Maybe they could help out for a little while before going off to find Rewind and Chromedome, and later - much later - they would check up on their roommate, see how he was doing. A cheer rose from a table near the door, followed by the sound of glass shattering, and Tailgate's visor brightened in a smile. From here on out, their life had irrevocably changed, but life for everyone else on the Lost Light was going on just as it had always been. As frustrating, frightening, wonderful as it had always been. No matter what their future held now, it was good to be home. |
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Archived Threads · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Theme: Acerbic | Track Topic · E-mail Topic | 11:11 AM Jul 11 |



