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| An Unexpected Glitch; Closed for Damus and Skids | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 6 Aug 2016, 01:01 PM (162 Views) | |
| Catawampus | 6 Aug 2016, 01:01 PM Post #1 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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They must have been pretty desperate to send the very red empurata victim to buy and pick up supplies. But, well, there we was. And at least it was something he was physically capable of doing as long as he didn't have to handle any small objects. So far, it had just been haggling, getting things loaded into the transport, and keeping track of the money he'd been allotted. Damus had a lot more left over than he thought and was very seriously considering taking some of that extra for himself. Though, with a wince, he was beginning to think he'd gotten a good deal on a few supplies because whoever was selling said items felt sorry for him. The thought made him wince, and he hunched into his armor as he walked. He had time to himself, and he wanted to stretch his legs--despite how much he stuck out. They were safe here, right? Nobody knew who they were, as far as they knew. And Damus had gotten this far unmolested (once again: bright red. Empurata. Not easy to hide)...and it kept him away for longer. Despite all the promises, and all the work--all the literal pain he'd put into learning how to use his ability to break things from a distance--it seemed more and more like they were just jerking him around. He wasn't going to get his hands back--that was just a lure. It was a lure that was working, despite his best judgement and all the little voices in the back of his head screaming at him. It's better to be a useful freak. I'm a useful freak, Damus reminded himself as he went along aimlessly on his way back to the transport. I'm a useful freak. I'm a useful freak. He walked in time with the mantra--something he'd adopted a long time ago and still kept up just for the comfort in the tradition of it. And it was nice for the reminder, anyway. He wasn't good at much--except for being pathetic and breaking things--but at least he could be useful. Even if the people he was useful to were probably, well, just interesting in how easily he broke things. Damus exvented heavily. I'm a useful freak. I'm a useful freak, I'm... |
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| Skids | 6 Aug 2016, 03:05 PM Post #2 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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Though Skids was doing considerably better, several days after he'd been released from the medibay, he was still under medical orders to avoid anything reckless or dangerous or "Skids-ish" (as Ratchet had called it, knowing exactly the kind of thing the outlier could get himself into). These limitations made the stop at the next planet almost unbearably boring, since he was since not allowed to drink anything stronger than a weak energon spritzer with the medication he'd been put on while his spark continued to steadily return to its bright shine - that ruled out going to the bars with the regular crowd. The idea of going off-roading with Hound was shot down, he wasn't allowed to go showing off in any underground fights with Whirl ("Why would you think that was a good idea in the first place?" was a question raised by more than one of the medics). Pretty much, Skids was limited to the shopping district, so he figured he might as well pick up supplies for the ship while he was planet-side and, boring as it was, at least it was something to do besides mope about on the ship. Not that Skids would admit that he was moping, but after regaining his memories, he felt he was allowed to hole up a bit. He'd talked to a few people about his memories to get out the worst of the feelings he had and he no longer felt like he didn't deserve to be alive. That was a significant improvement. The improvements in mind, Skids was beginning to believe what everyone had told him, that he was going to be alright and he'd have time to work to make amends for Grindcore and what he'd done there. He wasn't at peace with any of it, but he wasn't going to let it drag him back into the despair he'd become familiar with after the prison's liberation and his recollection of the memories. He'd live with those terrors and some day come to terms with them. Skids stopped suddenly and looked around. Before he'd gotten caught up in his thoughts, he'd been looking for a particular shop to pick up some supplies for Swerve and now realized that he must have passed the shop. Giving a curse, he went over to the nearest person, a red mech facing away from him. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a shop, could you help me?" |
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| Catawampus | 6 Aug 2016, 03:30 PM Post #3 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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Damus nearly jumped sky high. People didn't talk to him--people never talked to him. And the sudden proximity didn't help, either. Trying to swallow his spark back down (metaphorically speaking), he curled his arms close and turned to...nearly cough his spark up once again. Of all the bots, in all the star systems, on all the planets he'd hopped to, Skids was the last person he expected to ever run into. Mostly because he thought Skids had been caught by the heavies and was either maimed or dead--which he seemed to not be, obviously! "Sk...Skids?" It was a dumb question--of course it was Skids. Damus made a sort of twitch, wanting to...well, basically leap over and hug his old friend. But they were in public. And Damus was awkward as it was. ...though he was happy enough to see an actual friendly face (or at least it had been friendly the last time they'd met). Hugs could wait--right now was time for gawping. "I thought...I thought you'd been caught. Or, or...I don't know! But I thought you were gone!" Edited by Catawampus, 6 Aug 2016, 04:50 PM.
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| Skids | 6 Aug 2016, 04:00 PM Post #4 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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If Skids was the last person the other mech had expected to run into, the sentiment was doubled, possibly tripled, for Skids when the other mech turned around and an all too familiar face - or, rather, lack of one. Skids' optics went wide and his spark felt tight all over again; though not in the dangerous sense that it had when he'd had the spark spasm just days ago. If any of the medics were monitoring him, they'd no doubt be concerned, but Skids was in no danger of a repeated incident, only shocked by the sight of the mech in front of him. Impossible, he thought, but Damus stood there in the red frame of their days at the J.A.A.T, a single blue optic set in his helm and claws as Skids remembered him - truly Damus and not the mech that Skids had been having nightmares of ever since he'd regained his memories. There were no red optics behind a purple mask, no treads hanging from the other mech's shoulders like a cape, no menacing fusion canons. Skids dropped the supplies he'd been carrying and stepped forward, hands immediately coming up to cup the other mech's helm - solid under his touch and confirming that Skids was not being haunted by more memories and wishes for the old days when he and the other outliers were safe under Shockwave's care, their small group unbroken and unsplit between factions. "You're real..." Skids could hardly believe it, knowing what had happened to the other mech, but the Damus before him was really there. "How? You - " He cut himself off, shaking his head. Hadn't he learned already that impossibilities weren't always what they seemed? Wasn't it impossible for Shockwave to be on board the Lost Light, free of the shadowplay? Wasn't it impossible for the dead to come back, even though Nightbeat was alive and well? "Where have you been, Damus?" |
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| Catawampus | 6 Aug 2016, 04:20 PM Post #5 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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There was a bit of a squawk at the sudden touch--Damus was a little twitchy, particularly under the circumstances. He was technically on the run, after all. It took a little while for him to swallow his spark back down to where it needed to go before answering. "Where have I been? Where have you been? I've been with Trailcutter and the others--ever since...you know...the Senator?" He managed to reach out and--albeit somewhat awkwardly due to the equally awkward claws--grip Skids's arms. "I...I thought they'd got you somehow too..." This wasn't Tarn...this was, well, the anti-Tarn. Awkward, twitchy, fumbling Damus--somewhat befitting his nickname. Well, very befitting his nickname. Though at least there wasn't anything hunched over and scuttling about his posture right now. He was basically on his tip-toes. To say he was happy to see Skids was an understatement. |
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| Skids | 6 Aug 2016, 05:58 PM Post #6 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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With Trailcutter and the others...after Alyon? That was the last time Skids remembered all of them being together, protecting the sparks with Orion Pax. "I joined the Diplomatic Corps," he told Damus, being as truthful as he could without going into details. "I lost contact with the others after that. Too busy trying to get others to join the cause." He didn't want to say anything about what he'd done as part of the Corps, didn't want to talk of how he'd lost track of Damus only to find him in the last place he'd ever want to find the other mech, especially considering the horrifying change in him. The Damus in front of him clearly wasn't the same Damus. Another case of different timelines, maybe? It had been a long time since the last incident involving mechs from other timelines, but perhaps there was some lingering effect. Surely the Lost Light wasn't the only place these mechs from different timelines had shown up? Skids didn't care which Damus it was, as long as it wasn't the mech who'd caused so much pain in Skids' past. "I was afraid you were gone," he told him, voice softer. When he'd found out about Tarn, he'd been horrified that the other mech had changed so drastically, that the Damus he'd been friends with before was gone. This mech wasn't the sadist he'd met at Grindcore. Skids dropped his hands from Damus' helm and wrapped his arms around him. "It's so good to see you!" |
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| Catawampus | 6 Aug 2016, 06:10 PM Post #7 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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"O-oh. Okay...okay," he seemed to be reassuring himself as well as answering. He also hadn't let go. Not yet, anyway. Compared to some of the other shenanigans, Damus--this version of himself, anyway--was a bit further behind than some of what they'd dealt with. He'd jumped a bit further in time as well as just...not being where he was supposed to be. Not in this universe, anyway. Though not that he realized this yet. "Y-you're. Um--you're here, in any case." He made that little head tilt that suggested a smile. Though that disappeared for a moment when he found himself caught up in a hug. Part of being an empurata victim was that people tended to keep a certain distance. No one touched you. Ever. It was like you were contagious. Damus...didn't get a lot of hugs. It was alien to him, and he initially stiffened at the contact. Especially after so long without more than the awkward pat here and there. This? This was nice. Unexpected, but nice. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like. Relaxing slowly, he wrapped his arms around Skids as well and squeezed--even tucking his head against Skids's shoulder. "I missed you too, buddy..." |
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| Skids | 6 Aug 2016, 06:48 PM Post #8 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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Skids was one of those mechs who didn't care what had happened, if someone was an empurata victim or not, if they were his friend - and sometimes if they weren't - he was touchy. The more he cared about someone, the clingier and more forward he tended to be. Before, when they were at the Academy, he'd never been quite this clingy with Damus, concerned about being too forward, and still in his own awkward, almost shy, phase. Back then, he'd always been careful about not pushing any of the outliers away; they were the only ones who understood the dangers the Functionalist council represented to mechs like them. Skids leaned into the hug, spark pulsing in his chest in a happiness he'd been struggling to find again. "Do you need to be anywhere or do you have time to catch up a bit?" he asked. He pulled back from the hug a moment later, but not letting go of the other mech. "You should come to the ship with me, Shockwave will want to see you! He's been worried about all of us, you especially." |
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| Catawampus | 7 Aug 2016, 06:13 AM Post #9 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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Damus still seemed a bit stunned, though at least in a good way. It took him another moment or two to gather his thoughts and finally respond. "Um--I've actually got to get supplies back. But you can...come with me if you'd like?" He was quiet for another moment or two, looking down to focus on their feet. "To be honest, though, I...don't think I want to go back. Or at least, I don't think I want to stay. Not anymore." The seemingly false hope of actual hands was still weighing on him heavily. Seeing a possible way out? That didn't weigh on him quite so much. Of course, he also didn't know he was part of a space-time hiccup; chances were things weren't in the same place he'd left them in. Or the same time. Or the same universe. ((Ooc: Short response--sorry about that. I'll have a longer one next time.)) |
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| Skids | 7 Aug 2016, 08:49 AM Post #10 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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Skids gave a slight frown, picking up on little tells that he'd learned so long ago, as Damus went quiet and gazed down. He hadn't seen the other mech in millions of years (as Damus himself), but he couldn't remember a time when he'd been this quiet, this hesitant. What had happened to the other mech? How different was his life than the one Skids had known? Skids' spark ached for his friend. "If you don't want to go back, you don't have to," he told Damus. He didn't know what the other mech had to go back to, where or with whom he was staying with, but if Damus didn't want to be there anymore, the least Skids could do was offer him a way out. "You could come with me, join the Lost Light. I'll vouch for you and we can get you a place on the ship. You don't have to stay where you don't want to be." He couldn't leave Damus behind. Not when they had another chance. They could go back to the Lost Light, rejoin Shockwave and Trailcutter, have most of the old gang back together. There would be less pain for all of them, having Damus back. Skids would never heal from the damage done by Tarn, but having Damus back - the old Damus - would ease the pain. Old feelings from back in their academy days were already beginning to rekindle in his spark and Skids knew he couldn't let this chance pass by. "Come with me, Damus," he said, reaching for one of the other mech's claws, ready to pull him towards the ship if he had to do so. |
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| Catawampus | 7 Aug 2016, 11:40 AM Post #11 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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He was...torn. On one hand (ha!) he wasn't the sort to just give up on something, even if it gave him the short end. On the other, there was Skids. It wasn't like the others had necessarily been unkind to him, but--well--Skids had put effort into actually trying to be his friend. Damus hadn't just been "the one with the claws" to any of the JAAT group. Not before, anyway. Here, though? It was another thing entirely. He was back to being "the one with the claws" and he wasn't sure if he could handle it much longer. Or if he was even really making a difference, despite his efforts. Damus shifted his weight back and forth, trying to decide, still mostly focused on the ground. "I don't know if I can just leave...but..." He'd been distracted enough not to process the comment about the Senator (who he still thought was dead--or worse), and it wasn't like he knew Trailcutter was on board. To him, Trailcutter was back at camp where he'd been when Damus left for their supply run. The Lost Light was going to be a bit of an experience for him! |
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| Skids | 7 Aug 2016, 12:26 PM Post #12 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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Skids gave a gentle squeeze to Damus' claw, trying to reassure the other mech that it would be alright to leave. He wanted Damus to come with him, to join the quest, and rejoin the rest of them - who knew, maybe they'd pick up Windcharger at some point and then they'd really all be back together. Not knowing what was holding Damus back and not wanting to push the matter, Skids just wanted his friend back in his life. "Damus, I'm not leaving you behind again," he told the other mech. He gave a small smile, despite the pain in his spark as he recalled the last time he'd left, when he'd joined the Diplomatic Corps without telling the other outliers where he was going. He'd lost track of them after that and he blamed himself, at least partially, for what had happened to the Damus he'd known; if he'd kept in contact, would he have still ended up becoming Tarn? Skids took a step back, pulling Damus with him. "Come on. At least come see Shockwave. He'll be glad to know you're alright." They'd go from there, maybe. Whatever was holding Damus back, maybe a bit of a reunion with their mentor would help. |
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| Catawampus | 7 Aug 2016, 12:40 PM Post #13 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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Another fidget. The battle between principle and personal need going on right now, of course. Though he was clearly on the tipping point (or so the constant fidgiting seemed to say). Even then, he felt a little guilty at Skids's admission. It hadn't been Skids's fault, really. Their paths had just diverged. Even if he'd missed Skids's company horribly while they'd been apart. Damus was quiet, trying to process everything. "...who's Shockwave?" Was he supposed to know this person? Damus wasn't really all that much of a people person--never really had been--and had generally had been a textbook introvert. However, he knew faces and names well enough. It had behooved him to remember his interactions--particularly after his punishment. Shockwave? Now that wasn't one he'd heard before. Or seen (not that he knew any better!). "Er...this isn't someone important I should have known, is it?" |
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| Skids | 7 Aug 2016, 01:14 PM Post #14 |
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try to teach me a thing or two
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Skids realized at the question that they'd never really called Shockwave by his name when they were at the Academy, so of course Damus wouldn't immediately recognize the name. Shockwave had been their mentor and they'd respected him greatly, using his title as Senator rather than his name to show that respect. However, after four million years since the Senate had been displaced and Shockwave's years as a Decepticon, the title had been dropped. Skids, though he still respected his mentor, felt it odd to call him simply "Senator" when they were close again. "Sorry," he told Damus. "It's the Senator. Senator Shockwave. Things are different than they were before he was arrested after the heist. He's...he's different. A lot's happened, but he's still our mentor." Skids let go of Damus' claw to pick up the supplies he'd dropped earlier - nothing broken, thankfully - and arranged them so he could hold them and take Damus' arm now to lead him away. "You have no idea how much we've all missed you." |
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| Catawampus | 7 Aug 2016, 04:52 PM Post #15 |
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So much panic, so little time!
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Damus looked up from the ground finally, head tilted back and to the side and his posture somewhat loose. He didn't have eyes to widen, so that had to do.It wouldn't have taken much for him to be convinced, but hearing that the Senator was alive and...well enough, anyway...was enough to have him meekly following along where Skids tugged him--supply run forgotten for now. There was a lot for him to forget about in light of the current situation! "Wait--all of you?" Something was definitely not computing. "Which 'all of you' exactly? There's you obviously, and the Senator, and...who else?" As far as he knew, Trailcutter was back at the camp. Well, a Trailcutter was back at camp. Another one was on the Lost Light, but close enough! |
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