Tarnation
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Decepticon
Posts: 89
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Tarnation on Aug 13, 2018 18:23:04 GMT
He froze slightly, his body tensing up as if stung by something. What had he said? Had he heard that correctly? Tarn wasn't sure, but he thought he did. Well, this did not bode well for anyone involved. "And I suggest you leave it as it is. My body is working perfectly, the risk of infection is non-existent. I've had it far longer than you may believe, and I do not plan on changing that anytime soon." The mech said coldly, a new hint of something in his voice, something dangerous. This was very clearly a touchy subject, one which shouldn't be brought up.He sat in silence while he was being worked on, carefully watching everything that the medic did. He was observant, and closely monitoring his leg. If something happened that he would deem as suspicious, one wouldn't doubt his next course of action. The medic was far too weak to be able to take him on, it would be a plain slaughter. He wasn't worried however, he knew the impact he had on those around him, the sheer aura of fear that surrounded him, that made others take other paths to avoid him. It fit him perfectly. He however knew that what the medic said was true in a way, but in a calculated way. He didn't do anything that he hadn't planned out in advance before. After all, it was all part of the bigger picture. How sad that none of the others saw it.
~~6~~
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Post by BackTrack on Aug 16, 2018 17:29:32 GMT
In Backtrack's opinion the mech was wrong and his frame looked quite the opposite of fine. But he did not dare argue with the DJD and thus rather focused on doing what he could to the damaged leg. Once the repairs on it were finished and at least it would transform smoothly when needed and support Tarn's weight without issue. It would function but he really thought it would've been better to replace it wholly, as much of the frame itself.
All in all though he just focused on doing what he had been asked, fighting the urge to suggest a whole body switch or full check up. Soon he could step away from the leg and look at Tarn's mask. "...I'll turn away. Lay the mask on that desk there and let me know when I can look to repair it. Your leg should..... be as fine as it can be .. considering." He stopped himself right there.
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Tarnation
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Decepticon
Posts: 89
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Tarnation on Aug 18, 2018 12:50:33 GMT
Tarn decided to sit up during the rest of the procedure, not being too comfortable with being on his back anymore. It wasn't that he didn't trust the medic, he just did not trust anyone at all in general. His profession did not allow for such things, as trust could lead to mistakes, and mistakes could not be made, not now. The leg "felt" better now, at least it looked better. Not as damaged, and the inner workings were sealed. Just as how it should be. He glanced over at the medic who explained that he was done, and he was ready to work on the mask. "Very well. I will go check on the prisoner in the meantime, see what Skywarp has managed to gather. You know where the brig is situated." He swung his legs over the edge of the berth, pushing himself up with his hand, letting the sword follow around in a wide swing as to not accidentally decapitate Backtrack. He detached the energon drip, letting it fall towards the ground from where it hung before. The large mech then grabbed the mask, unhinging it in a way that it would come off easily before leaving it on the berth for Backtrack to fix. He did not like being without it, but the time called for it. On his way out, he grabbed a few energon injectors, putting them in his chest compartment to have them for future use. He coughed a little, the noise coming out was rather nasty, not sounding very natural at all, as if years of dust were sent out from his systems, before walking out the doors.
~~6~~
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Post by BackTrack on Aug 19, 2018 16:42:38 GMT
Backtrack waited for the lord to leave and then reached to fetch the mask. He had repaired it once before, so a second time would be no different, just more work as the plating was damaged as well as the glass. Silently he worked on the material, Making a similar mould for when things needed replacing, and sealing, seamlessly almost, the tear and damage to the mask. He'd buffed out the kinks in it, and then applied the same type of paint as before. Nothing fancy, nothing special, just functional.
Once that was done he commed BuildUp, inquiring on when he would be returning to base. He nodded a few times while words were exchanged between the two, and as a last told him to meet him in the medbay later, once he delivered the little parcel of a mask to Tarn. He was surprised that the mech would have left without it when he had been so keen on keeping his face concealed behind it up until that point. He had caught a glimpse of the face before, but no more than that. Just a small amount that peeked through the damaged metal.
He cleaned up and once ready, headed for the brig, assuming Tarn would be there.
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 7, 2018 22:58:31 GMT
(coming from the Kaon - landing bay - Switch and Swansong, BackTrack and BuildUp) BackTrack waited once more as BuildUp entered first, before slipping through the door. He waited for the twins to enter as well before leading the way, this time moving ahead of his larger companion. THe medbay concisted of several rooms that lead towards a much larger one. Left and right of that had been some rooms, the doors shut for the most part, with a few of the empty ones having the doors slightly ajar as well. There was another door, with the small oval shaped symbol that was currently half open, but which BackTrack walked up to, just to, almost slightly irritated, came to close. There clearly had been someone that had come looking for him there - probably the patient he had spoken earlier - and he had left the door open. "Please lie down over there." He indicated the table not too far from him, still set in the main operating room. "I'll start with the preliminary scan. Pretty self explanatory. Scanning your vitals, getting the whole picture and.." He indicated the area that they had dented. "Evaluating the gravity of damage in that area to be able to determine the best course of action." His voice had taken on that subtone that was surprisingly soothing and calming, even if it seemed that the mech was not really trying to do anything in particular to convince the two to do as he wished. BuildUp took a seat not too far from them, snatching one of the tablets from the table. He flicked through it, until he seemed to focus more on its contents than the three in the room. He only glanced up once to see whether the twins were cooperative or not. The main repair room consisted of berths of several sizes of which the height could be adjusted and cupboards and lockers filled with any additional tools a medic would need. It was as clean and spotless as the rest. The lights could be adjusted at angles. This was also where the various liquids, and medical grade energon was stored, as various pain nullifiers. Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 10, 2018 23:11:17 GMT
Following the two mechs down the hall, SwanSong and SwitchFoot had taken to distracting themselves as they ventured further into the medical center. The former was interested in all the doors both closed and opened. If it was open, their helm seemingly lagged back to peer inwards. For closed doors their servo lingered longingly over entry pads, itching to look inside as well.
SwitchFoot was too preoccupied with not losing their cool to chastise their other's near intrusions. They could not recall the last time they had required helpful medical procedures. Then again, helpful typically occurred after a bout of tests. As they entered the main auditorium, their shoulder gave an involuntary twitch.
Swan had stopped their sight seeing to glance at their other. Neither exchanged words. Swan's servo tightened into a misshaped fist. Switch had blocked them out, not wanting them to feel their slipping composure. Both nodded at BackTrack's instructions, one perfectly at ease, the other curt.
As the twins approached the table, their form appeared to be visually lagging. Stopping. Slowing. Resuming. Their approach stopped before they settled down, one arm clutched the table edge while the other mimicked the lag from earlier. Once both gripped the table, they had finally settled down. "It would be best that you walk us through each step. For sanity's sake." BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 10, 2018 23:41:20 GMT
"Very well. " BackTrack saw no issue in explaining what he would do before he did it. If it kept the two more at ease and compliant with the procedures, then it was something he'd do gladly. "First, I will scan your frame." He spoke, his tone soothing. "During that, I only ask you not to move unless I tell you. I will be using my visor." He indicated the tool in question as it slid over his optics. "It is not intrusive."
With that said and a moment during which he waited for them to fully settle he shifted forward. True to his word, he had begun, methodically really, scanning the pair, without, at least for the moment, ever coming in contact with their frames. He started at the helm and proceeded downwards, towards the chassis, where the denting and scrapes were visible. There he had stayed for a few moments longer, taking a few readings from top and each side. He was mapping out the damage, forming a better model of the injuries, with which he could work once the scan was complete. Still not touching the frame, he continued towards the pedes, not missing each arm and servo on the way either. "Calm down." The feeling of calm seemed to somewhat intensify as the words were spoken. Nothing too intrusive however. He'd noted the higher rate of energy in the frames, suggesting an agitated state, something he would have preferred to bring to a level where it might not interfere with the rest of his readings. "I'm here to help you..." He murmured as he slowly straightened. "I've checked for your physical damage. I have also found something foreign in your helm, Swansong, that I believe would be best removed before it causes a full out infestation in there and endangers your processor in turn. Now..." He hesitated and tilted his helm to look at the pair. "Would you allow me to run a scan of your mental functions and statuses? It is slightly more intrusive, but entirely painless." A sound of a click was heard a moment later. Still the lithe Decepticon kept his distance, waiting for their answer before he would proceed with this step. "I would use a cortic patch for this and you may at any time during the scan tell me to stop and I will stop."Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 16, 2018 0:44:11 GMT
"Non-intrusive... The best method." The statement was no more than a low rattle off of their vocodor. Neither of the twins were actively aware of the effective tones in BackTrack's voice, they didn't even realize the speed in which their form loosened. Laying back on the table, their wings tucked closer into their form.
Both helms had turned to follow the Doctor as he performed the scan. One for the sake of curiosity, and the other for something they could refer to later. It was interesting to see a visor based scanner as opposed to a handheld or table based one. Almost preferable. Less invasive as both were used to an audience.
Upon receiving the news of Swan's little issue, the other abruptly turned to face them. "I told you that cleaning your audio ports is important! How could you not have noticed?" The joint frame began to sit up, seemingly ignoring those in the room. There was a low hum as one arm's plates shifted and twisted, the clawed servo switching out for a small drill. The drill whirled threateningly in Swan's direction.
Swan stared at their twin with a narrowed optic. "One- I don't have traditional audio ports. Neither do you. Two- I can't feel anything in my helm. Thanks to you." The arguing would have continued had BackTrack not asked to learn of their mental functions. Switch went to decline, but was cut off. "Sure. I suppose if it's not done by you nicely, someone will do it forcibly. Again."
Switch's drill sparked, visibly showing their frustration. Their helm sunk downwards into the shared socket. They were growing tired of fighting against outsiders and their permanent companion.BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 16, 2018 7:29:09 GMT
BackTrack's optics halted on the drill with which Switch wished to remove the pest. "There is no need for that. I will do it with as little damage to the helm as possible." He murmured softly shaking his helm at Switch. He did take a step back, in case the drill decided to swipe in his direction. BuildUp tilted his helm in their direction. While his posture betrayed little, he did seem more attentive to what was happening than he had before. For the moment however he remained put. His smile grew warmer once he was given the permission to proceed. He nodded. The cable slid forward from its port, and he made certain that they saw what he was doing, while taking them through the procedure in the same way he had done earlier, with the scan. "I am going to use this. I will plug it in at the back. It won't hurt, at best you will feel it connecting. Once it connects, you will feel a slight pressure and then you will feel my presence." He paused. "Please, do put that drill away. As I promised. I will not harm you and you can tell me to stop. My interest is purely in your well being." Which was not entirely true, but it was a part of it. His curiosity melted in with the fact that he wished to make sure they were physically and mentally fine.. or as fine as they could get in their unusual form. He'd have waited a little more before stepping forward: "I usually place it in the back of the helm...but as you have two.." He studied each. "I think it would be best to try one, and then the other, with your permission?" His tone was still promising comfort, trust, quite possibly in stark contrast to what they might have been through before. "Who wishes to go first? Swansong?"Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 19, 2018 1:28:27 GMT
The drill whirred a bit louder, as if Switch was giving one last bout of protest. It was futile really, as they would not benefit in bringing the doctor harm. Though admittedly, it brought them great joy to see another squirm. This was perhaps what really set each head apart. One was intent on pleasing and bringing joy; the other reveled in others' discomfort and rising tempers.
SwitchFoot finally obliged, their servo returning to view with another series of low hums. They raised one clawed digit to give the eager doctor a pause. "Swan may let you do whatever you want to their helm, but I won't. Mental access is conditional." Swan watched their other with what could have been annoyance. Switch was leaning forwards with rarely seen eagerness. The other groaned, knowing full well what the request was.
"I want my own operating auditorium. With private access. And the occasional corpse..." Switch's optic shutters cycled, zeroing in on BackTrack.
"It would be best to comply... Last time their demands weren't met, 'Cons were losing pedes and servos, left, right, and center." Something about Swan's tone indicated that they were speaking in a hyperbole for once. The twins slowly returned to a neutral sitting position. Swan inclined their helm, a visible invitation to commence the cortic patch." BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 19, 2018 10:38:05 GMT
BackTrack listened to the conditions given for the access to the other helm. He could only choose one, but his curiosity was once more rearing its ugly head, and it was a scientific study that might improve the understanding of patients similar to the two. They were rare, so very rare that he doubted an occasion like the one presently, would come around soon. He gave a clear indication that he was contemplating it. He even lowered the cable for a few moments, though the light bent of Swan's helm brought a smile to his faceplates. "I will see what I can do. I am not in charge of the assignment of rooms but..." He tilted his helm briefly. "I do not see any harm in what you request. Your skills will need to be tested anyway and providing you with a workspace would obviously benefit us as well."He paused again. "By private access, you mean, that nobody but yourself can enter? Or is it reserved for you, a medic and of course our leader? I can do that. Only authorised personnel. No stranglers. No random walk ins." He lifted the cable this time and moved it to the back of Swan's helm as that helm he would work with first. He would be partially aware of his surroundings even once he entered the mind of the more willing participant, so the answers could be given as he worked. BuildUp moved and pushed a chair next to the table before the contact was made, indicating to BackTrack to sit. The mech did so. "On the condition of bodies. There will probably be plenty so you may get some. Throwing them away would be wasteful and they serve no good to the dead. However I will not take a life of one of our own, so that you are provided with one. Understood?" Once that was said the cortic patch cable was pressed to the back of Swan's helm. The little feelers locked on, and the smaller wires attached themselves to the matching cabling at the back, sinking in just a little, like a plug into a socket. There were a few clicks before strands of light could seen, pulsing along the sides of cable. BackTrack's frame relaxed, his servos moving down to rest at the handles of his chair, while his optics dimmed. Within Swan's helm the mental 'space', almost like a port, was created. This was where the figure of BackTrack would appear, standing motionless at first. ~~I will be going through your mind now. Just relax and keep calm. I will sift through your present state of self, the mental connections to emotions, feelings, memories and your connection to Switchfoot and how they overlap and interlock.~~ The voice was not coming from his comm, nor from his voicebox but felt as though the source was literally in Swan's own mind. ~~Can SwitchFoot hear me when I speak to you?~~ He was looking out to see the changes, be it light, colour or wave length, and already began to compare those to what he knew of the common, standard mind. He was still allowing the more 'easy to grasp visual of a room' to remain for the patient's comfort, while having a glimpse of the base code mapping of the processor for himself. The sensation of his presence was quite pleasant, like there was a warmth emitting from where he 'stood'. It was really hard to describe. It was the effect that mnemosurgeons would have as their mental waves would merge with someone else's. It was also the reason why some kept coming back, because the longer the mind was 'invaded', and when intention was not to harm or force the patient into anything, the stronger the sensation became. Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 25, 2018 0:07:54 GMT
"Seeing what you can do is better than flat out denying." One set of clawed digits tapped enthusiastically on Switch's leg plate. The double finned helm leaned back in its socket, seemingly satisfied. That or they were trying to better analyse the mnemosurgeon. "Just closed to the general public. I don't mind higher ups viewing my work." The helm tilted, the only indication of pride they could manage. "Understood. There is no point in wasting life when there is many passed to choose from." Pleased with the little convo, SwitchFoot seemingly zoned out as they searched their subspace for their stashed energon canister.
It couldn't have been more than two hours since their last intake, but they needed it. And would need more another couple hours later.
SwanSong watched with masked curiosity as the patch was initiated. The painlessness of the procedure surprised them, a soft 'oh' escaped their vocodor. Once fully connected, their optical shutter dilated to its full extent. It created a rather odd appearance, almost as if they were under the influence of one drug or another.
It took a few moments for Swan to mentally respond, after all, they weren't used to guests. ~No sh-they cannot.~ SwanSong's form had its back to the other, seated at what appeared to be a vanity station. As they stood, the vanity had faded away in a pixelated cloud. Their form only appeared with the one helm and neck, moving with a grace not seen in their reality.
The space which the pair occupied was barren. Not empty due to simplicity of Swan's mind, but more of a guarded procedure. Swan spread their arms in a grand gesture of welcome. ~Ask what you wish. I'm an open book.~ Despite the gesture, the statement did not convey the same message. Dropping their arms, Swan casually approached the other. They bore a different energy on the inside, a knowledgeable one. Vaguely ominous even. Far from their aloof persona.BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 26, 2018 18:03:27 GMT
~Interesting.~ It was. The question on how SwanSong would present was given in the form that had gotten from the vanity station and began to move towards him. One helm, much more graceful and yet also much less naive. Was the naivitete something that was presented for the outside world, a fake self, a face face, or was it influenced by the two helms having to work together somehow, whereas here, SwanSong was alone within the one helm. The space was empty for now, no chaos, no clutter, but faded away into nothingness. Even the vanity station was no longer there, to that little detail was jotted down in his memory for a later analysis. ~Would you be so kind as to give me a tour through your mind first?~ He suggested, trying to see how much he would be given by the active choice of this Con. ~Switch... how do you communicate between each other, when you stall? Is it an internal connection such as we share right now? A different kind?~ He inquired walking carefully closer. He was alert, even if his body, out side looked completely relaxed, although a slight smile tugged at his lip plating. He enjoyed the sensation of a mind that brought some odd sense of a challenge, a land unexplored, and just the sensation of data flowing through his cortic patch, controlled, and not his own. ~How does it feel when you stall? Your body.. the sensation? can you show me?~ He inquired tilting his helm away from SwanSong as if expecting images to appear, be it of past or present. He reached out into the void, as if was a thick liquid through which he could run his digits. He was searching for the files that indicated the past, history, dark experiences that would be strongest and boldest, and could nearly be felt, vs the others, faint every day things that would leave a sensation - to him anyway - of a monotonous flow of water. Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 26, 2018 23:35:13 GMT
SwanSong wanted nothing more than to grin, but alas they could not. Even in their mindscape, their original features had been purged. Perhaps it was easier this way. To forget. ~A tour?~ The single helm tilted sideways as they pondered the request. ~I suppose I could comply.~ Swan straightened back up in a decisive reaction.
Almost like film on a reel, images cycled past. So many showing at once, blurring into one homologous color. As the unidentifiable frames cycled past, Swan busied themselves with answering the doctor's inquiries. ~A different kind. I believe. If we could talk to each other like you and I do now, then I'm sure the stalls would cease. But we don't.~ Swan reached out, pulling an image into focus. A low hum left them.
~To think I thought I could forget this...~ Swan let out a bemused exhale. They could not forget many things, no matter how hard they tried. Hence the magnitudes of memories zipping past. ~Its more of a feeling when we communicate. Impulses. I think... The terms were never my strong point. Do you want to see why we are hesitant of you and your procedures?~ Swan didn't wait for a response and turned the frame for BackTrack to see.
~Those who were in charge of researching our systems liked to do this-~ Anatomical parts were scattered on what appeared to be an autopsy table. Expertly disassembled to keep each bit in order without causing any fatal damage. The view itself appeared of. Hovering. Out of body. ~They did this whenever theories fell through. 'Back to square base!'~ A harsh laugh echoed as the images all blinked out of existence.
Swan doubled over. In a split second they appeared to have been disassembled, their parts hovering to give a view to their displaced innards. They returned to normal, acting as if there was no visual glitch. BackTrack did not need to see anymore. Not yet at least. They would have to discuss permissions with SwitchFoot.
~It wasn't pleasant at first. Then again, it still isn't- when we stall. We've gotten used to the sensations for the most part. There are still bad days though.~ They drummed their taloned digits against the side of their helm, scoffing and shaking it as a memory popped into place. ~Nasty surprise, the first time. If you still want to know how it feels, come here.~ SwanSong remained in place, their optic trained on the other with what could be passivity or resignation.BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 27, 2018 8:08:03 GMT
There were many images. A blurr of them, the data flowed fast when moments ago everything had been almost peaceful. He enjoyed the sensation, admired the patterns in which the data flowed, how it was controlled, released to pass, while SwanSong spoke. It was a strangely immersive sensation, being there and standing beside it at the same time. The idea to try and connect with both helms at the same time would have to be postponed for the moment. Maybe in a year, two, if they would still allow him in. Once he got to know their processes better and his chosen paths into their minds would be kept smooth and painless, pleasant even. That required concentration. Just barging in without care was easier, but it made the patient uncomfortable. It was bad work. He smiled deciding that he would fully focus and explore many of those memories as time progressed. Now, he was presented with one, the bad one, the answer to the question on why they had been reluctant. ~Ah.~ He nodded, scanning the image and memory almost as if imprinting the 3D image of it in his mind. They disassembled them. Crue, barbaric and really, while there could be a benefit in that process, it was just, drastic. He knew Cons who'd have sworn by it too. ~You need not worry. I disassemble those that I need to repair and the damage is so bad that it is necessary.~ He shook his helm. ~Or prisoners, if I am ordered to. You? We will work together on this. I ask permission on a procedure I deem necessary, you tell me if yes and how much.~ It wasn't a question but a promise. He did not see a point in taking them apart again, even the memory provided enough data for it to be unnecessary. It wasn't his style. That and he wanted their trust and compliance. His attention was caught once more, when an offer was made. He nodded to confirm that he was indeed interested. He walked up until he was barely a step apart from SwanSong, fully in their reach though. ~I want to know.~ He murmured, though he was surprisingly reluctant to move his servos forward. It was as if even in his 'mental' body rather than physical his concern about his most precious part of him stayed. ~How?~ Would they connect, was it the contact through which the twin would show him. Since their state was so unusual, this was also, and he was excited rather than worried about it, something new. Sentient Lamp
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 28, 2018 23:03:10 GMT
Swan's helm followed BackTrack as he approach, lowering with each step so as to keep him in view. Normally the twins did not allow others close for demonstrations. With the doctor being there, in their mind, an argument was already brewing with the other. This made things easier.
~What was that earth saying about curiosity?~ Swan tilted their helm briefly before shrugging. They did not wait for an answer nor did they care for one. They rotated their shoulders before raising their servos so that they hovered at the sides of BackTrack's helm. ~I think you and I would need to argue, but Switch is already doing that so I'll just counter them.~
Swan inhaled, seeming as if they were to countdown. That was not the case. They were not kind enough to allow for that sort of preparation. Their talons pressed against the other's helm to keep him steady as they allowed for the data to flow.
At first there would be no sensations to be had, perhaps maybe a static-like numbness. The static would soon become a buzz taking place in cables, circuits, anything that aided in motion really. Swan was feeling the exact thing that they were showing the other, seemingly unperturbed. Buzzing transitioned to something peculiar; like solid bits running down fuel lines, catching and clotting. They were sharp like grits, scratching as they moved, blocking passages and stiffening wherever they occupied. Heavy and jagged, weighing down everything with pain. The longer they remained, the more it burned.
If asked to explain in verbally, the best comparison that Swan could offer would be that of ingesting hot glass and feeling the every bit of contact occurred on its way down. But this was everywhere. Occupying and overwhelming all parts that could sense. Swan remained passive as ever, simply content with monitoring the mech 'before' them. BackTrack
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Post by BackTrack on Nov 29, 2018 9:02:22 GMT
~Never was on that planet, so I wouldn'tknow.~ He answered honestly, though a faint chuckle did escape him. It was probably something bad, he figured. Curiosity could be good for science, but it could also get one hurt or killed. He listened carefully to the process of how this could be instigated, watched the servos as they moved closer to his helm, but did nothing to move away. He had wanted to see this and he was used to mnemosurgeons to work around helms anyway so it wasn't an action entirely foreign to him, in ways of getting into 'someone's mind'. It was perhaps less usual as he was, at present, already in one. When talons pressed against his helm, he focused on SwanSong. The numbness was unusual, but already his mind was trying to process it all, to the tiniest detail. How numb, how his surroundings felt in comparison to what he felt through the connection, what was changing, what noises he could or could not hear. Could he sense the other helm, or was it just SwanSong still. The buzz to him, had registered as pleasant, soothing. He would compare it to certain minds he had been in and try ginding the differences between the two. Why this felt off, when the other felt normal. Then the sensation spread. He could feel it tingling, from the tip of his digits, even further down the length of his needles, up to the elbow mechanism and then the shoulder armour, through the cables and pain receptors. It was becoming more intense. His mind tried to counter it, make the unpleasant pleasant, but he overwrote those attempts. He wanted to see it as it was. Unabridged, pure, like the two would feel it. The comfortable far too quickly became uncomfortable and then painful. His optics - on the physical frame outside widened, though the light refrained from coming to them, still dull and distant. His needles has slid from his digits, while those curled around the handles of his seat a moment before his whole body locked up. Within SwanSong's mind his form nearly mimicked what happened outside, though instead of sitting it kept standing, but the frame tensed up just as well. His needles, virtual, had slid out, not with an intent to be used, but as an involuntary reaction to the assault of pain his frame and mind were being forced through. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn't. He did try it though. His processor was bringing up protocols trying to clear out the blockages, trying to divert the data into one location, so that others could be cleared away from the searing hot sensation. It was more sluggish than usual, but the mind certainly fought, trying to find a solution, anything to break through. He did collect the data, as much as he could, storing it away for later. It was perhaps why his reaction had been even slower, for a mnemosurgeon. The processor tried to identify what it was feeling like a virus that needed to be contained before it consumed all. At one point, later, he managed one twitch, a twitch of the digit, the slightest of recession of one of his needles, but for now that was all he could do. The issue would have to be analyzed properly, solutions would have to be found, the study had only begun. But there was one question that sprung already to the fore. Why. Why would they ever want to argue? This would have made for a pretty fine torture method, if it could have been replicated. Sentient LampOutside BuildUp looked up from his text studying the twins and his friend. Something felt off. His optics dropped to observe his digits, tensed around the handles in an iron like grip. "....Hey, what's going on?" He asked looking at SwitchFoot. "What are they doing?" His voice carried concern, and a warning.
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Post by Sentient Lamp on Nov 30, 2018 0:57:48 GMT
"Hm?" The one leg was swinging absently over the side of the slab which the joint frame occupied. Switch was busying themselves with inspecting their integrated instruments, cycling through each after a thorough look over was completed. "Oh." They looked nonplussed about the doctor as they tilted their helm to glance at him. With their leg still swinging, Switch returned their focus to their tools. "It would appear that BackTrack asked after one of our less pleasant features. SwanSong complied." SwitchFoot raised their helm to stare directly at BuildUp. "Relax. He will survive. And probably learn a lesson or two. Sit." The last word was especially garbled.
SwanSong watched as if they were nothing more than an outside observer. To them this suffering was part of life. They got used to it. After centuries stuck in such a state, they learned to shrug it off. BackTrack was new to this. They didn't much care about that. "It may feel like something is there but its only a trick. A cruel biological joke, really." Swan hummed as they spoke, unperturbed by the other's predicament. They watched BackTrack tense with their one optic, and wondered how long they should let him hurt.
Personally they didn't really care if they upset them, but then again his curiosity amused them. He would come back for more if Swan did not deter him. And they didn't want him to not return, if he didn't they wouldn't get to be themselves. With an exvent they removed their digits from BackTrack's helm. Not wanting him to fall, they steadied the mech by allowing him to lean against their frame. "There, there. You're not dead yet." Swan patted his upper back plates in a near mechanical gesture as they attempted to coo their comfort.
SwanSong waited a few vent cycles before asking with their best sweet voices, "I need a favor of you."BackTrack
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BuildUp
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Decepticon
Posts: 12
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Post by BuildUp on Dec 1, 2018 7:50:01 GMT
BuildUp's optics had narrowed on Switch. he knew BackTrack warned him of ever trying to interrupt his sessions, unless they were absolutely necessary or, unless he was given a signal that the mech was at a stage, where the interruption may not harm him, even if it would harm the patient, but this? His servos had twitched with intent to grab and tear them apart.
He stared at SwithFoot darkly, letting them know that if anything untoward did happen to BackTrack the twins status as Decepticons would not have stopped him. With a heavy exvent and an intent to give the lither frame a good talking to, which of course he'd brush of, as every other time, he slowly eased himself down once more.
"He better be ok." He said, his voice deep, low and with a hint of threat.
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Post by BackTrack on Dec 1, 2018 8:03:29 GMT
When the contact to his helm was released his frame sagged forward, almost grateful for the servos that caught and held him. His systems booted up, a rush of data bursting through the channels that had felt perviously stuffed and sluggish. It was an intense sensation to feel again egged on by the fact he had been trying to clear the blockages himself much while he'd analysed them. He had not gotten far, no. At this time, he only knew how it felt, how it started and had brushed the surface of the whole anomaly. His systems might have been willing to suggest that he does not try it again, with alarms and warnings popping up, with calculations on how this could with the longer exposure, damage them, but all that had to be untrue. These two had done it for longer, cycles, years, oorns, much longer and they functioned well, after it ended. That was the other secret he wanted to solve. He craned his neck cabling, surprised at the act that was almost gentle. His data told him one thing, and his ever so light exploration had already shown to him that SwanSong of the outside world was not the same as one within their own mind. ~What is it?~ He asked as he began to straighten. The needles on his actual, physical frame had disappeared back into his digits, stored safely away. It might have made BuildUp relax, though his optics were still on BacktTrack, studying his frame for anything out of the already unordinary. BackTrack within SwanSong's mind had his own needles hidden away and the tense expression had turned into an pleasant, welcoming smile once more. ~Thank you for showing me, by the way. It's intriguing, there's much more to learn from the code, and how it can trigger this. I'll be interested to know on how you stop it? Simply by agreeing? Is there anything else?~ His smile did not waver even if he felt tired. ~What favour do you wish to ask of me, SwanSong?~ There was a tone of respect within the calming effect ever present in his voice. Sentient Lamp
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