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!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Busywork (closed; finished); open thread
Topic Started: 28 Feb 2016, 03:42 PM (227 Views)
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
Waist deep in the interior paneling of a wall, Perceptor grumbled to himself as he fought with sparking wiring. He'd been doing his routine tests, checking over every square in of the ship to be sure things were running smoothly.

And to avoid thinking too much...

He shook his helm, grumbling to himself in annoyance and yelping a rather colorful series of swears as his fingers were once again zapped by exposed wire-cores. He sighed, legs shifting so that he could ever-so-carefully reach back out of the gap in the wall and feel around for the small case of tools he had brought with him.

Pat, pat, pat- he growled to himself, hearing servotips taptaptaptap on the floor as he realized he must have knocked it out of his reach.

"For Primus's sake..."
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

It's been a long shift, taking stock of the Lost Light's supplies and taking care of the chores that Rodimus usually avoids. Megatron is looking forward to some quiet time spent reading, and watching the slow drift of the undimmed stars from his porthole. Perhaps he'll work on some writing; he's in the mood, and that's a rare thing these days.

He's so lost in thought, in fact, that he doesn't notice the toolcase on the floor until it skitters away under his foot.

He looks up. A section of wall paneling is folded open, exposing cabling and softly glowing circuit cores - and Perceptor, cursing quietly. So nothing seems particularly out of place; but then, this is the Lost Light.

He picks up the toolcase and holds it out.

"Need a hand, Perceptor?"
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
"Sonofa-" THUNK.
Perceptor winced heavily, shuddering from the sudden and white-hot pain that blasted through his processor a moment. He hadn't expected to hear a voice, much less MEGATRON'S voice. And here, lo and behold, stood the ex- Warlord.

Perceptor eased out of his hole in the wall, sitting heavily with a soft groan and servos feeling over the epicenter of his now budding helmache. He looked up after a few kliks before taking the offered toolcase with a nod of thanks.

"Keeping this spacetravel catastrophe running? Not really, no. I've worked on worse after all."

He shuddered, remembering Springer's ship and shooting a glare off to the side a moment before schooling his face back into his normal thin-lipped stoicness, "With convincing Rodimus that the next stop we make desperately needs to involve a THOROUGH revamp and repair of this ships hardware? Now there I could use a hand. Getting him to listen to what I had to say was hard enough when Dr- ahem, when our TIC was still here; now I'm half tempted to not bother."

The scientist/engineer/sarcastic disaster stared forlornly at the open panel of the wall, and sighed as he rifled through the case for a moment, plucking out what he needed before once again clambering into the hole in the wall, "But what of you, Captain? Are you faring well?"
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

The Lost Light came into view as Drift pulled out of warp drive. He noticed the scuffs, bumps, and burns on the surface of the ship as his shuttle pulled in closer. "Goodness, that poor ship has seen better days...what trouble has Rodimus gotten you into?"

Drift glanced hesitantly between the ship and the comm button. How is the crew going to react to him coming back? What has the crew been through since his...departure? Is Perceptor still there, and would he forgive Drift for leaving? These questions and more raced through his processor. Anxiety rippled through his frame as he reached over to the comm button and announced his arrival. "Here goes nothing..."

"Good afternoon, Lost Light! This is Drift, requesting permission to dock. Please respond."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
Perceptor wasn't sure if he had just left his mind behind while working and listening for Megatron to speak, or not. But the sudden sound from the communications console in the shuttlebay once again resulted in his helm smacking rather hard into steel. With a stream of hissed curses unbecoming of the personality he showed to the crew, he withdrew from the wall and tapped his loudly beeping optic scope.
"Do shut up you stupid little thing.", he hissed, tapping the side of his helm to settle it back into its place before getting to his pedes. Stiff steps took him to the main bay console, and commands were entered with little attention.

He scanned the incoming information, not paying any particular attention... Just enough to make sure it wasn't an enemy of some sort. One could never be too careful, however, and he retrieved a pistol from his subspace. He was hitching the holster to his hip as he opened a commline.

"Perceptor of the Lost Light to incoming Autobot vessel; you are cleared to dock. Be gentle, if you please; mind the gap and all that. And be prepared to be searched upon arrival. Can't be too careful nowadays."

He shut down the line, muttering to himself about protocol and "giving chances" as he sent the commands trough the console to open the bay to accept their visitor. As the hum of the mechanisms sounded, he returned to his hole in the wall and tossed his tools into their case, beginning to bolt the interior panel back into place. Wiring would have to wait.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Drift wasn't quite sure Perceptor had registered his name. He briefly wondered how the poor mech was doing, if he didn't notice something that had seemed so important to him before. He sounded almost exhausted.

Both hands on the wheel, he eased himself into the shuttle bay, minding the gap as Perceptor advised. He felt something in his chest...anxiety? Just what he needed to come back with. An awfully contagious emotion aboard a ship with low immunity to such things. Terrific.

He landed softly in the shuttle bay, and sat back in the captain's chair, momentarily recalling when he first left the Lost Light. The landings were a bit rickety at times, but once the shuttle had become a home away from home of sorts, he learned to anticipate when to make a soft landing. Drift smoothed a hand over a spot on the console where he had tapped his fingers the past several months. "It was nice flying with you."

He rose from the captain's chair, servo hovering over the control panel. Questions raced through his processor, putting his old racing scores to shame. What was he going to say to Perceptor? Hello? An apology for leaving? Would he even have a chance to repair what they used to have?

Somehow, he doubted it. But, as his Mentor had taught him, there was always hope.

Drift eased an exvent through his lip plates, and tapped the control panel. The door hissed open. He stepped out into the shuttle bay, awaiting Perceptor's arrival.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
A last few whirring sounds and a hard knock to the wallpanel signified it was replaced. With a sigh, Perceptor tossed a last few things into the toolcase and got to his pedes, stretching the kinks out of his backstrut from hunching the way he had been. He glanced over the shuttle in disinterest, wincing at the battered state of it. No doubt, once he alerted Magnus and Rodimus, some long-forgotten portion of etiquette would require they patch the damned thing up before the mech or mechs aboard it left.

Joy. ANOTHER chore.

The optic scope whirred, focusing on the typical trouble points where explosives were commonly mounted and, finding noting, settled its sounds. Perceptor's long strides took him round to where he head heard a hatchdoor hiss open, and he began to speak before he had even seen who had arrived.

"State your designation and rank, if you please, and I hope you tok my search warnings to sp-"

Perceptor froze, and barely managed to stop himself from shrieking. That would be terribly unbecoming of a scientist such as himself- Even if he was certain there was a ghost looking back at him. His vocalizer clicked in reset, and clicked once again before he was sure he could speak without his voice dying in a hum of shocked feedback.

"...Drift?"
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

"Yeah, Percy. It's me. Been a while, huh?"

Drift hesitantly closed the space between them, embracing Perceptor with a gentle hug and a quiet hum in the scientist's audials. "I'm so sorry I left you."

It burned Drift that he was away from Perceptor so long, that he didn't come back sooner. But this time, he held Perceptor for as long as the scientist would let him; as long as it would take to repair the damage done by his absence.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
Perceptor meant to move out of the way. He meant to dodge the well-meaning contact; something he'd been doing for eons, since the first time. Since the first time he awoke to cruel morning with no one beside him; since the first time there had been no goodbye. He meant to step to the side, shift his shoulders, and continue on in a frigid monotone before he could slip away unnoticed, unbothered, to rant and rave and wail alone in his habsuite.

But he froze. Once again, when aimed at, he froze.

He watched Drift move in slow motion, move closer and arms were around him again. They were warm, Drift's plating was warm and still carried the scent of oil and incense. Perceptor's hands twitched, resist, resist, resist- for the love of Primus Perceptor, don't fall into this again, don't let him speak. If he speaks you're done for don't

"I'm so sorry I left you." passed into his hearing, bypassing his processor and drifting to settle over his dusty and unneeded spark.
Perceptor's optic shuttered, the scope whirred as it powered down and he felt something crack in his chest as his arms moved against his will to hold Drift; to feel that familiar weight, the nip of the mech's waist, the way his plating twitched at the touched, the rumble of an engine meant for speed.

The grip tightened, all at once and Perceptor forewent his stoicness for once in his Primus-forsaken life and clung tightly to Drift, ignoring the voice in his processor that warned him, warned him of the dangers. He didn't care, he couldn't care, not after so many nights spent in the lab staring at the wall. Not after so many days where coming out of recharge felt like a blasphemy.

Not after everything he had borne the brunt of in calm silence.

"Welcome.... Welcome home, Drift."

"Please stay this time.", went unsaid, the pathetic plea only whispered by Perceptor's pulse.
Edited by Perceptor, 13 Apr 2016, 05:24 AM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Drift held on just a little longer to Perceptor, as if the scientist would disappear from his grasp should he let go too soon. He pulled back, holding Perceptor's shoulders in his hands, looking into his optics with love and a longing that had haunted him all these months he was away.

"I will never leave you again, Percy."

He expected Perceptor to doubt him; there was ample reason, after all. He wondered even now if he could keep his promise...if something else wouldn't take his place. Still, with vow in place and arm linked with Perceptor's, he tilted his helm in the direction of the doorway. A smile lit up his faceplates, optics glowing bright with happiness.

"Shall we, Percy?"

Quote Post Goto Top
 
Perceptor
Member Avatar
Confirmed Gay Disaster
Part of Perceptor's processor wanted to doubt that promise. It wanted to stay aloof, keep cold, keep him safe from what could very well be another glass house in a blast radius.

But when Drift gave a smile, Perceptor couldn't doubt him. A thousand images flickering behind optics that closes a moment; mess halls and ship's barracks and patrol runs at midnight. The Swarm; late night nudges to get something in his tanks, to get some sleep.. care. Affection. Perceptor met Drift's optics, and his shoulders twitched, and he chuckled in that soft baritone before a smile lit a normally dour expression.

"Indeed we shall. I suppose I s h o u ld let Rodimus and Magnus know you've returned.", he mused, tapping his lips with a servo, "But... then again, that can always wait until you've at least gotten a bit of rest. I can only imagine the shenanigans you've been up to, Drift."

The familiar sensation of Drift's arm hooked in his made his spark skip a beat, and he DID try to hide the effect it had on him.

He also failed, and couldn't help the grin plastered on his faceplates.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · Archived Threads · Next Topic »
Add Reply

Theme by Sith of tzb / Outline