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| Follow Your Feet; Open thread. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 21 Mar 2016, 07:50 PM (201 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 21 Mar 2016, 07:50 PM Post #1 |
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The quite vibrations of a ship in motion, formerly the only sound this deep in the off-cycle, were cut by the light taps of someone moving through the hallways. Overhead lights had been dimmed to both conserve energy and be easier on tired optics, and the control panels for hab-suite doors glowed red in the gloom - locked, do not disturb, come bother us some other time. Tailgate moved past the blinking red lights, resisting the urge to lean against the walls and power down in the dark and quiet. Swerve had sent them down to storage to fetch more glasses - the game of 'knock the glass towers over' in the bar earlier had been fun for everyone with more than a little engex in their systems, and Swerve had let it slide under the excuse that, hey, they'd almost all been murdered, again, but now the bar was sorely lacking in glassware. Tailgate had offered (been volunteered, more like) to go down a few levels and pick up replacements while Swerve and Ten shooed out the last few customers and started cleaning, citing the newfound super-strength and the resulting ability to carry more crates as the reason why Ten hadn't gone instead. Tailgate appreciated the long walk, to be honest. After their talk with Cyclonus, helping the other minibot out at the busy bar seemed like a good idea, but now they were just tired. They were unwilling to head back to their shared hab just yet, however - Cyclonus was likely still recharging, recovering from his injuries. His Tailgate-inflicted injuries. Guilt rose again before Tailgate firmly squashed it down, visor focusing at the elevator door at the end of the hallway. A quick ride up a few levels, another short walk, and then they could ask Swerve if they could nap behind the bar, or head to an observation deck and- and crawl under a bench, or something. Just a little longer. |
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| Deleted User | 25 Mar 2016, 12:05 AM Post #2 |
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Rewind slipped out of the habsuite, hoping the hiss of the door opening & closing wasn't loud enough to wake Chromedome. His conjunx had slipped quietly into recharge several hours ago, but Rewind hadn't been able to sleep. Too many thoughts, memories, videos, records, datafiles tumbling around in his processor, so fast it was getting hard to keep track of which were his own mind's and which were from his archive. From experience he knew that if he managed to go to sleep during a time like this he'd have have some really bizzarre dreams. And...this time around his subconscious certainly had material to mix up something deeply unpleasant. The DJD attack had already been more than enough (his own memories, the recordings they'd forced him to make of it all, the additional data on the DJD his archive was eager to toss up as “related information” that he'd accumulated over the years but that had gained a new and darkly personal tinge over the top), but now he had the Functionist timeline, too. The actual data from his overwritten archive had been erased after they'd gotten back to the present time - which deeply bothered him, he hated losing data when his entire function was predicated upon maintaining as much of it as possible. His processor had been left desperately trying to recollect everything from it that was still accessible in his regular living memory, a much more fluid and fickle thing than his hard databanks. Typing up what he could remember had helped ease the anxiety, but some part of him was still racking his brain for anything else he'd missed, adding to the already-overwhelming information whirling in his processor. And not to mention, the subject matter of the Functionist timeline was bad enough to begin with. It had been horrible, and he'd been willing to accept it for the sake of everyone else in the galaxy. He still didn't think he'd made the wrong decision (even if some small, selfish part of him was relieved it hadn't come to pass) as much as he was still just...stunned he'd made it in the first place. He, Rewind, the archivist who'd always silently watched history happen around him, the former disposable who personally knew better than most people there exactly how horrible life under the Functionists could be, who'd been dismissed and once treated as barely a person, had not only killed someone in cold blood but almost fundamentally changed the fate of the entire galaxy with that one shot. It was a scary and dangerous thought, that this was the kind of person he could be. Rewind shook his head in an attempt to clear it out. This was the last thing he needed to add to the rush currently going on in his brain. What he did need was something to focus on instead of just lying in the dark where his thoughts had free reign over his consciousness. He heard footsteps somewhere around a corner and caught up to them to see Tailgate, carrying an almost comically high stack of crates. Rewind gave them a little wave from the other end of the corridor, waiting until they seemed to notice him to speak up hopefully without startling them. “Hey bud,” Rewind said as he walked down to meet the other minibot. “Usually I'd offer you some help with those, but now that I think you're stronger than everyone else on this ship...” |
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| Deleted User | 25 Mar 2016, 07:14 AM Post #3 |
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Another set of footsteps grew in the gloom and Tailgate slowed, shifting the crates in their grip to get a better look around them to the other 'bot. Even with the added height from their cargo, they were still one of the smallest on the ship, and if they weren't zooming by on their hoverboard other mechs had the unfortunate tendency to barrel into them - even in the middle of an empty, otherwise silent hallway, Tailgate wasn't about to take chances with their very fragile load. The figure waving to them was familiar and not a threat at all, though, and Tailgate's visor, dim from exhaustion, brightened as Rewind's voice cut through the hall. "Hey!" they greeted as the other minibot fell into step beside them. "You heard about that already?" Plating puffed out a little in mock pride and Tailgate hefted the crates higher, the glassware inside clinking together in protest. "This is nothing. I threw the whole Rodpod!" They glanced at Rewind from the corner of their visor, letting their plating settle; they'd not had a chance to truly sit down and talk with their friend in a long time. Movie nights, evenings at Swerve's - even just lazy cycles spent doing nothing in the oil reservoir had all mostly been replaced by sitting in a dark corner of "Visages", Getaway's fist 'bomp'ing their helm and too much engex poured into their glass. And all this, so soon after recovering Rewind from the wreckage of the weird second Lost Light. The guilt was back, like choking acid at the back of their intake, and Tailgate masked the clik of their voxcoder resetting by shifting the crates again. "What're you doing up? It's pretty late." The two reached another intersection of hallways and Tailgate peered around the corner, looking at blank doors and plaques and control panels, ghost images of fleeing Sunder briefly flashing through their processor. "How's Chromedome doing? I, uh...Lotty told me about. Y'know." Lifting a servo from the crates Tailgate made a jerking motion, fingers aimed towards the gap between their hood and helm. "Cyclonus was pretty upset about that." |
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| Deleted User | 25 Mar 2016, 03:40 PM Post #4 |
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Rewind chuckled as Tailgate boasted of their recently-acquired strength. He'd heard, he'd heard, at least half the ship had heard and at least half of those had snuck down to the shuttle bay to check out the battered Rod Pod. (He was honestly almost surprised there wasn't already a drink at Swerve's named in Tailgate's honor. It'd be perfect for something tiny but powerful.) It was one thing to have heard of what had happened to Tailgate and see the aftermath on everyone's favorite Rodimus-shaped shuttle, but it was another, somewhat surreal thing to just be chatting with his friend as they carried...whatever it was (something glassy, it sounded like?) there sure was a lot of it. Rewind fought the urge to turn on his camera - Tailgate probably didn't want to be gawked at any more than people likely already had, and it wasn't like he wouldn't get a chance get some recordings some other time. Plus his databanks didn't need more input at the moment. “Couldn't sleep,” he answered to Tailgate's first question with a light shrug. As for the rest of it...Rewind sighed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I'm. Let's just say I'm not too happy about it either.” He hadn't been with Chromedome at the time to try and talk him out of it, but he had gotten there in time to see the aftermath – one of his worse after-reactions in a while. Not that Tailgate probably needed to know too much about that, though. Rewind may have had a front-row seat to how rough mnemosurgery could be on the practitioner, but he wasn't about to lose sight or sympathy of how unpleasant (an understatement for certain cases) it could be on the subject. Tailgate didn't look too comfortable with it right now. “He's fine now! Physically at least.” And otherwise frustratingly almost TOO fine with all of it. That answer felt a bit like a cop-out, so he continued, “I mean, was a bit of a scare there afterwards - seems like when is there not when he goes ahead and injects, he never listens to me - but he's okay now.” And for now, he supposed. “How are you though?” Rewind tilted his head towards Tailgate, visor shining in concern. “I heard you were unconscious during it, I'm really sorry about that. They shouldn't have done that to you without your consent.” As displeased as he was with Chromedome, he was at least equally displeased with Rodimus for calling him in to begin with. “I'm assuming that's what Cyclonus was mad about, and. Yeah. Like I said, not happy about it either." He sighed. “Speaking of Cyclonus though...what exactly was going on with you and him and all that fuss there?” Though outwardly he still tried to primarily show his concern for his friend, Rewind couldn't deny having been curious. “I didn't want to ask Chromedome given how he, uh, found out,” he added. Well, he'd heard bits and pieces from other sources, but the rumor mill was much more hushed and whispery and uncertain than on the matter of something straightforward like Tailgate's new strength. Besides, he wanted to hear it from them himself. The two of them hadn't gotten a chance to properly talk in a while, and whatever it had been it sounded like Tailgate had been through a lot. “Are you okay?” |
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| Deleted User | 25 Mar 2016, 09:23 PM Post #5 |
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Tailgate made a sympathetic noise at Rewind's answer. They knew their friend had nightmares - both everything from before the weird quantum split and then the DJD attack and other other universe besides. If that was what was keeping Rewind up - or another argument with his Conjunx - then Tailgate wasn't going to pry further. Knowing the mnemosurgeon's history... "Glad he's okay." "I'm...doing alright," Tailgate continued, after a moment. Whenever I shut my visor off I see needles and Cyclonus' energon and Getaway in a dark cell and I am so, so tired. "It- I actually didn't know, until after the whole Sunder thing was over. Lotty was in the breakroom in the medibay and I didn't see anyone else who knew until later. I..." Glasses clinked again, and Tailgate hoped Rewind would take it for redistributing the weight and not the anxious shuffling it was. Telling Rewind how they really felt - all that guilt that still crept up their spinal strut despite Cyclonus' rumbled reassurances, how tired they were but how they dreaded recharge, fearing what defragmentation would bring - that would probably be too much. He had his own problems to deal with, after all. "...I still don't know how to feel about it, I guess. They caught Getaway 'cos of it, right? Cyclonus was upset enough for the both of us." They shrugged and then winced as the crates teetered ominously, scrabbling quickly to regain their balance. Only to immediately lose it again, nearly crashing into the elevator door at the archivist's next question. "Whoops! Hah, almost broke everything. Uh, half the ship was at Swerve's earlier and they broke almost all the glasses, and I was helping out and I went down to storage to grab some more." Leaning the crates against the wall for a moment, they tapped the recall button for the lift and gave Rewind a bright gleam with their visor. "Well, more like he volunteered me. 'Cos I can hold all this stuff now. Yeah." They hefted the crates back into their arms and swayed a little, a warning message popping up on their HUD alerting them to low energy levels, mirroring the control panel flashing the lift's current floor on the dimmed screen. "...Me and Cyclonus. It's a little complicated, but I need to ask you something?" A memory popped up, unbidden; Getaway's dark hab, his fingers twined with Tailgate's own, outlining the Four Acts as Tailgate's punch-drunk headache grew and grew and their spark spun. A hallway, so much like this one, but blaring and blazing red instead of silent and dim, Cyclonus' hand instead of the other. It can wait. Well, it was time to stop waiting. Tailgate ex-vented heavily as the lift doors opened, the left half squeaking slightly from where someone had kicked it out of shape once, either from a battle high or after a few too many at Swerve's. The outlier leaned forward but didn't enter the elevator (thankfully empty) just yet, turning to look at Rewind. "The Conjunx Ritus, is it just the Four Acts?" Is it even real, or is it another of Getaway's lies? "We may have...accidentally done it. Completely unintentionally! A while back." |
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| Deleted User | 30 Mar 2016, 10:21 AM Post #6 |
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The glassy boxes were a lot more clanky suddenly, Rewind could tell. He wanted to comfort Tailgate, but any physical reassurance might've been dangerous with their heavy load and with how jumpy they were already, so he settled for mirroring a similar sympathetic noise they'd given him earlier and resolved to find an opportunity to sneak in a hug later. Tailgate's alarmed reaction to his question was even clankier, though. Rewind braced himself to try to help catch the boxes but Tailgate recovered, if their chattering about Swerve's sounded more nervous than before. Rewind wondered if maybe he shouldn't have asked – he had to admit his curiosity got the better of his sense of boundaries sometimes. And when Tailgate finally got to the question, there was something in their hesitation that suggested a reluctance to talk about it. Rewind understood “a little complicated”. He wouldn't pry, but he woulddefinitely see about giving Tailgate a good hug when they got those boxes out of their hands. If he wasn't expecting much of an answer, he definitely didn't expect Tailgate's next question. “Whoah, the Conjunx Ritus? You've certainly been up to a lot lately,” he said, intrigued. Oh man, the Four Acts...fond memories of his and Chromedome's Ritus swam up in Rewind's memory. (The memories of his Ritus with Dominus came with more of a delay, and a subsequent twinge of guilt.) “To answer, though, the Four Acts are the main symbolic part of the Ritus, yeah, but the part that really makes it official is the vows you take at the end. Eternal love & togetherness & devotion, all that kind of stuff. The actual words vary – I have this fascinating text in my archive that discusses the different variations on the vows through history and different city-states, there's not that many records on the Ritus given how private the ritual usually is but this one archivist -” he caught himself before going on an infodump. Tailgate didn't sound like they were just asking out of curiosity. “I mean, I can give you a dataslug with the usual version of the vows if you want to know what they are.” Looking again at Tailgate and their clanky crates, he added gently, “If you did it unintentionally, it doesn't have to mean anything binding unless you want it to.” |
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| Deleted User | 30 Mar 2016, 08:21 PM Post #7 |
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A little giggle bubbled from Tailgate's vocaliser as Rewind slipped into archivist mode. No matter the situation, watching Rewind go from normal to infodump in less than a kilk was always entertaining; sometimes they and Swerve would take turns pestering the other minibot for little bits of trivia, looking on in amusement as Rewind flicked through the millennia of data he'd gathered. Even now, in what was rapidly becoming a very serious conversation, it definitely helped bring Tailgate's spark up. "I'd like that. Do you think you could give me two copies?" Tailgate finally began edging into the lift, shifting their grip so the glasses would clank less - it was starting to get loud, disrupting the shadowy peace of the halls. They didn't want to wake anyone. "Cyclonus would probably like one, too. Uh, do you have any vows that are from Tetrahex...?" It was likely a little much to ask for - not to mention silly, and sappy, if Swerve heard about this they'd never live it down - but their roommate would probably feel more comfortable with something familiar. A starting point for everything else. “If you did it unintentionally, it doesn't have to mean anything binding unless you want it to.” "Yeah, we already talked about that." Tailgate set the crates down on the lift's floor before reaching for the control panel - nothing on this ship was designed with minibots in mind, really - and tapping the button that would keep the doors open a while longer. "He said that we weren't ready for that yet." I don't believe either of us are ready for this kind of step. Funny; though the bar had been crowded and buzzing with voices during their conversation, Tailgate could only remember Cyclonus, and the deep silences between each of their words. With the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind their visor and the exhaustion settling deep in their joints, the memory file was likely glitching. A good, long defragment would clear that up. Tailgate's visor shuttered, briefly, before they turned and squinted it in a grin at Rewind. "Going up?" they chirped. |
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| Deleted User | 10 Apr 2016, 07:18 PM Post #8 |
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Rewind nodded eagerly at Tailgate's request as he dug around in his archives, even as inwardly he winced - talking to the other bot had been helping him keep his concentration away from his overactive archive, but the data he was searching through got added to that information whirl. He picked out one fairly standard variation of the vows (trying and admittedly probably slightly failing to be free of bias towards something similar to the vows he'd used with Chromedome), then the oldest Tetrahexian version he could find, packaged them together, and copied the records onto two data slugs that popped out of the compartment in his wrist. (As he remembered his & Chromedome's vows he had to stop and think - what vows had he used with Dominus? Rewind could remember taking the vows, could remember the feeling in his chest and the look on Dominus's face, but the specifics down to the subtle variations in vow wording escaped him. He hadn't had his camera back then to record the event as it happened - what if it was lost forever to eidetic decay? There was that data-loss anxiety again, much more personally guilty this time. Dozens of possibilities from the records he had of other Rituses bounced around in the peripheries of his processor, but Rewind couldn't tell if any of them rung a bell at this point.) He didn't see Tailgate's expression while the other minibot pushed the buttons on the elevator, but the tone in their voice sounded something like disappointment. Rewind had to admit he didn't know much about whatever relationship there was between the Tailgate and Cyclonus on this Lost Light, though he'd known the two looked friendly and close (well, obviously close, given that they'd done anything resembling the Four Acts to begin with.) Just going by what he'd seen he'd have thought Tailgate spent more time with Getaway..but given where Getaway was now he doubted that ended well at all. "I don't even know where I'm going," he admitted, stepping through the open door into the elevator after Tailgate. "Kind of just wandering around at this point, really. Up sounds good," but that wasn't much of a plan after getting out of the lift. "Where're you going? Swerve's?" Rewind suspected Tailgate would probably head in for recharge after dropping off their cargo, as any other normal bot at this hour. But, he privately admitted, he could still really use the company right now until he could recharge himself. "Oh, and here's your dataslugs," he held them out to Tailgate. More sympathetically, he added, "Do you want to talk about it?" |
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| Deleted User | 14 Apr 2016, 11:29 AM Post #9 |
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Tailgate tapped in the floor number for level Swerve's was on once Rewind was comfortably in the lift, the doors sliding shut after a little delay - Magnus must've been really busy if he hadn't gotten anyone to fix that dent yet - and rocked back onto their heels, swaying a little as the lift shuddered to life. Enclosed spaces weren't really their thing; six million years down a hole with cauterised stumps for legs and a broken chronometer would do that - but going up and down the stairs was a pain. Specifically in their joints. The hoverboard had helped, but they hadn't brought it with them when they'd gone to the bar for their talk with Cyclonus, and zooming around with delicate cargo probably wasn't a good idea, anyway. "Thanks," Tailgate said, earnestly, taking the slugs from Rewind. Into subspace they went. "Yeah, Swerve's. Then somewhere to sit down and pass out for a while." They leaned back on the crates, hood kibble brushing against hard metal and setting the glasses clinking again. The sound was starting to grate on Tailgate's processor, the nascent headache sending bursts of pixelation into their optical feed every time it happened. Rewind's voice, by contrast, was soothing, like a rush of coolant over overheated systems. Tailgate had had their fill of talking earlier - Swerve's chatter was mostly just nonsense, tossing drink ideas around or cracking jokes about Tailgate's new outlier powers - but here, in the lift, with the weird sense of weightlessness and the soft pounding in their helm... "Getaway, uh, did the Rites with me." They listlessly wound their fingers together, not quite looking at their friend's visor, more a little to the left. "Dunno if Chromedome already told you about that or not, but. That's why I went and. The...thing with Megatron. Cyclonus found me, and we ran, and the security team- yeah. Then the thing with Sunder happened," Tailgate unwound their fingers to flap their hand, dismissively, "and then earlier tonight Cyclonus and I met at Swerve's, and we talked about us. We decided that we weren't ready for that yet, and now we're here. Well, I'm here, he's in the hab resting 'cos he got he got all shot up and needs to-" Tailgate abruptly cut off before their anxiety-chatter started veering off and going into infodump territory. They instead spread their servos, wiggling their fingertips a little. Ta-da. |
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| Deleted User | 19 Apr 2016, 09:49 PM Post #10 |
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As Tailgate leaned back against the crates, Rewind took the opportunity to rub their shoulder reassuringly in support. They seemed pretty tired right now - reasonable, given the time of night; Rewind could feel his own exhaustion behind his optics, a dull ache he'd have to give in to eventually - but they seemed even more worn-out from whatever they'd been through recently. He briefly considered pulling himself up to sit on top of the crates, but quickly dismissed the idea - he didn't know how much weight the boxes themselves could support, and he doubted the contents were sturdy either. Besides, he didn't think he wanted to have this conversation looking down at Tailgate. Instead he leaned on the crates too, sideways to face Tailgate as they talked. He was immediately glad he had one arm free to reach out to Tailgate as they recounted their tale, visibly getting increasingly wound up before they cut themselves off. One of their hands was waving about, frazzled; he gently put one of his own hands over it to calm it down and looked at their visor, tilting his head. "Whoah, whoah, slow down there, buddy," he said, not unkindly. "Sounds like you - you and Cyclonus - have been through a lot; I get about you two and your own Ritus, I heard about you two and Megatron and the security team, I heard that was actually Getaway's fault, right, but what do the Rites have - " Rewind stopped mid-sentence as suddenly it made sense, the full picture coming together and cutting through all the other activity in his processor with a rush of clarity, and anger. Getaway, uh, did the Rites with me. Four Acts, three to initiate - that would've been Getaway's part - done on the expectation of one act in response. That's why I went and. The...thing with Megatron. Rewind's internal mechanisms churned, and while he tried his best to keep the hand currently resting on Tailgate's soft, the other one, by his side, balled up into a fist. "Oh god, I'm so sorry." He'd just been thinking about how often Tailgate had been hanging out with Getaway from what he'd seen on this Lost Light. He'd used to think nothing of it, but had it always been leading up to this? Getaway had reminded Rewind of Prowl, and he'd used to work with him too, shouldn't be surprising he was just as much of a manipulative scumbag - "I'm glad you and Cyclonus are okay after all that, then. And Getaway's locked up, where he deserves for messing with you and using you like that." He gave the hand that was on Tailgate's a soft squeeze that hopefully came off as reassuring, and not the death clench his other hand was currently curling into. If Getaway hadn't already been in the brig, Rewind would've gone and punched him right then and there himself. |
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| Deleted User | 20 Apr 2016, 08:50 AM Post #11 |
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Tailgate vented, slowly, and twisted their hand to return Rewind's gentle squeeze, taking care not to exert too much pressure. They'd nearly hurt Rung earlier - they didn't want to repeat that on their friend now. "It's- it's fine," they said, though their tone didn't match their words. "It's over now, right? Now it's just...picking up the pieces." Rewind's company was a comfort - Cyclonus' had been, too, but it was a different feeling, one that was distinct, yet difficult to put into words. They supposed that was what the difference between a friend and...well, more than a friend was. Just having the other mini's hand on their own, his field buzzing around the edges of theirs, was grounding. The dark, tangled memories flitting through Tailgate's processor seemed a little lighter, now. They gave the hand another squeeze and straightened a little against the crates, trying for a little smile with their visor. "Thanks. For, y'know." All this. Being their friend. Listening to Tailgate in a shuddering lift in the middle of the night, when by all rights, the two should be asleep. They pulled out of Rewind's grip only to lean in, manoeuvring around shoulders to give the archivist a one-armed hug. "How are you? I know I already asked, but-" The lift came to a halt, the second of weightlessness followed by a drop stopping Tailgate and setting off another burst of pixel static behind their optics. "Oof," they mumbled, untangling themself from Rewind. "Uh, hold that thought a klik-" The outlier turned and leaned down, sliding their servos under the crates and lifting. A second of resistance before they rose easily, and despite the pain and exhaustion Tailgate felt a little thrill run through them. It took a moment to balance the crates - using their knees to shove them up a little, leaning back to keep the topmost one from tipping over - but they soon had a good grip and edged towards the lift door, unable to see Rewind for the boxes. "Okay, lemme just...get out of here..." |
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| Deleted User | 21 Apr 2016, 07:52 PM Post #12 |
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Rewind leaned in to Tailgate's lopsided hug, patting them softly on the back. "Hey, it's not like picking up the pieces is always easy either. If you ever need someone to talk to, about what Getaway did, or about Cyclonus," or about you and Cyclonus, "I'm here, yeah?" Another quiet pat. "What happened isn't your fault," he added, not knowing what exactly Tailgate would need to hear but knowing some things couldn't be bad to say regardless. The lift jerked to a stop, and Rewind made a low whistling sound when Tailgate picked up the huge stack of crates. "I'll just back up out of your way there" he said as he scooted to the back of the cabin, his voice sounding impressed. Okay, now he could sneak in a recording, a slow pan up from Tailgate themselves to the top of the stack of crates, way above both the minis' heads. (Rewind considered dropping to the ground to get a better shot of the height of it, but he wouldn't know how to explain if Tailgate turned around and saw him.) He switched the camera off as Tailgate shuffled through the elevator doors with their cargo, and followed behind. "Normally I'd ask if you needed any help, but you could probably arm-wrestle Ultra Magnus these days no problem." He'd pay to get a recording of that... As Tailgate turned out into the corridor, he fell into step beside them again. Swerve's was a good a destination as any, for now. "As for me..." he'd brushed off earlier the question of why he was up earlier, but during conversation the atmosphere had changed, become more open. "Meant what I said about not being able to sleep. Just a case of archive overflow in my processor, not too fun when you're trying to sleep but nothing I haven't dealt with before, just this time there's a lot of really bad memories to mix in there too. A lot's happened recently..." He sighed and rebooted his optics, and with some light satisfaction noticed the amount of active archive data demanding attention at had gone down. "Talking to you has definitely helped, though, get my mind to focus on something else for a while. Glad someone else was up at this ridiculous time," he finished with a lighter tone. |
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| Deleted User | 22 Apr 2016, 07:34 PM Post #13 |
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"What happened isn't your fault," Well, the sentiment was nice, but it did nothing to calm the twisted knot of guilt Tailgate still carried. Even with Cyclonus' forgiveness, and Rewind's acceptance...They'd caused so much pain in such a short amount of time. That wasn't going away with some well-meaning words. If the cargo hadn't been so breakable and their frame not so bogged down with exhaustion, Tailgate would've struck a pose; as it was they simply shimmied out of the lift, minding the gap between the doors. "Maybe," they said, starting the long walk down the hall to the bar. "I think Jackpot already has a betting pool going, actually. Not like I'd ever actually arm-wrestle Magnus." Pause. "Well, maybe just a little. Unabridged code, ergh..." Tailgate listened to Rewind quietly, holding the crates as still as possible to prevent the glasses from making that damned clinking sound again. This hallway was brighter - likely since Swerve's had been open up until a little while ago - and they could hear muffled conversations down the intersecting halls as they passed. From the tones and giggling it was simply inebriated mechs making their way back to their habs; nobody would likely remember two minibots wandering around this late and pass it on to concerned parties. "Glad I could help," they murmured, wishing they could squeeze Rewind's hand again. "I'm- I know I've not been around recently, but I'm always here for you, y'know?" Tailgate didn't really know what they could do to assist Rewind with the overflow, but if talking helped, then they sure as Pit could talk. "...Did you want to talk about the memories, or..." |
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| Deleted User | 26 Apr 2016, 09:45 PM Post #14 |
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Rewind considered Tailgate's question for a moment as the two walked down the hall towards Swerve's. Though it was still the off-cycle, the atmosphere here was lighter, corridor lights turned on somewhat brighter to help drunken mechs make their way home, some of whom Rewind could hear up ahead. It was already better than the dark silent emptiness of the hallway they'd been in earlier - which in turn had already been made better by Tailgate's presence. Rewind was glad he didn't have to be alone tonight. "Yeah, talking would be nice," he finally admitted. "Earlier it was good to have a distraction from my thoughts - not that your problems are just a distraction to me, of course! I'm really glad we talked - " he added that last part warmly - "but talking through them is good too". He'd talked to Chromedome about some of it before, but another person would always help, and it had already been nice reconnecting with Tailgate tonight. Plus he hadn't wanted to wake up his conjunx when he woke up from nightmares so often already. (And truth be told, part of Rewind was he'd offer mnemosurgery as the solution again, cutting out the bad memories as a quick, unnatural fix. While Rewind figured Chromedome was just trying to help in...his own way, the idea of dealing with his problems like that deeply unnerved Rewind, and not just because Chromedome would be injecting again.) "It's..." he sighed, and started over. "The worst of it, is the DJD attack on my Lost Light. The other Lost Light, I mean. I've seen thousands of years of this war, seen even more of it in footage. Even seen bits and pieces of the DJD themselves." He'd probably seen more of the war than anyone (even being a late-comer as he was) past perhaps Optimus Prime and Megatron themselves. Sometimes he prided himself on it. This night he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Even seen some of Brainstorm's more extreme weapons concepts," he tossed in for a bit of a joke. "So...for a lot of people just seeing them in action is bad enough." Swerve had made everyone well aware of his own experience, and Rewind had a new sympathy for the other mini. "For me, I...knew a lot of the worst that can happen in war. Knew a lot of the things they themselves did to people." Not that they didn't get creative with new and horrific things, he'd learned. "It still doesn't prepare you for seeing it yourself, of course. But it really can't prepare you for seeing it happen to your friends." He took a moment now, ex-vented a couple times. He could still see it behind his optics, the death of any given crew member who'd been aboard his version of the ship. He didn't need an overactive archive for those images to come up unbidden. "And the thing about seeing it in real life, as opposed to a recording, is...you're there. Even if nothing's happening to you, you're still there with them, getting passed around like an inanimate object" - something he deeply detested being done to him to begin with, made even worse now - "having to watch, even when every part of you is screaming to do something else, anything else." He could feel his venting getting heavier now, and he wasn't looking at Tailgate but down the hall, optics blank, not seeing the hallway anymore. "I still have the recording they made me take of it." He tapped his head-mounted camera. "I don't rewatch it, on purpose at least. And I don't think I'd ever show it to anyone. But...yeah. I could never delete it." |
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| Deleted User | 28 Apr 2016, 10:21 AM Post #15 |
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Deleted User
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Tailgate let their field brush out against Rewind's in lieu of a hand, suffusing it with sympathy and reassurance. They'd heard Swerve's story about his run-in with the DJD, listening with a sort of distant, silent horror - the DJD was something that happened to others. Something removed from Tailgate's (very) limited world experience. Swerve had always ended his tales with a grin and a wink, forced or otherwise, offering a sparkfelt thank-you to Primus that nobody on the Lost Light would ever have to live through something like that. Except Rewind - this Rewind - had. And the other Lost Light, too. Somewhere in the back of Tailgate's processor they realised that meant that the other them, the other Cyclonus, had faced the violent, messy deaths Swerve had spoken of - and Rewind had footage of it. Did he ever look at Tailgate and see a corpse? The minibot stopped cold in the middle of the hall and set the crates down unceremoniously, ignoring the loud clatter the glasses inside made and the resulting burst of pain the sound caused. "I am going to hug you," they announced, arms spread wide and visor set in a firm, concentrated look. "It will be an indefinite hug. You let me know when to stop, okay?" And then they were - very carefully - encircling the other mini, letting their EM field settles around both of them in a comforting blanket. "You still have me," they said, the side of their helm pressed against Rewind's. "And Swerve, and Chromedome. You have all of us, no matter the nightmares, or memories - you'll always have someone to talk to. Or just someone to hug." Primus knew Rewind had been a shoulder enough for Tailgate's troubles, before; the outlier was determined to make that up tenfold. Regardless of which Rewind this was. "If you need to, you could recharge with me sometimes. I'm sure Cyclonus won't mind much." |
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