robothell | (no subject)

Who: Sixshot and YOU.
Where: Somewhere in the city!
When: Some… time.
What: Talk to doggy! Pet the doggy! Annoy the living heck out of the doggy!
Warnings: Standard potential violence warning because Phase Sixer.

Sixshot never stayed in one place for too long. There were places he would visit often, like the Decepticon base and the Autobot clinic, but he never lingered for longer than a day.

Sometimes he dug; there were various Sixer-sized holes around the barren city now. His olfactory sensors helped with homing in on various useful equipment and he left them where either Spinister, Tarn or First Aid would find them.

More often than not, he wandered. There were massive spaces underground, caverns left by destroyed metros, the dead roots of collapsed skyscrapers. Unstable death traps to most other mechs, but quiet places for one who could withstand half a world falling upon him.

There was a hole over this particular section of what appeared to have once been an underground mall. The sound of running water echoed through the darkness and Sixshot could see the sparkling spray as he got closer to the shaft of light.

A waterfall? A very small one, but it certainly looked like a waterfall.

Sixshot slows to a stop under the collapsed ceiling. The water disappeared into a pile of rubble for the most part and plants were scattered here and there and up around the edges of the hole.

Stepping up onto the pile, the Sixer sticks his massive head out of the hole in the ground. Where does this pop up into?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hn," Sixshot says, waiting for Pharma to take off before leaping back into jet mode and taking off after the mech. He's going to be very annoyed if this turns out to be less easy than it's looking to be.

Pharma cruises upwards and towards one of the taller buildings in the outskirts of the city, eventually swooping up onto the roof after making sure Sixshot is in view of what he's doing.

Once he lands, he shifts out of jet mode and makes a beeline for a rather impressive clutter of rubble, starting to dig through it with a grimace of indignation. He's not proud of his living situation, but Sixshot seeing this sorry state of being is a small price to pay to get him off Pharma's back.

The top of the building looked a little too rickety for Sixshot's massive dog form- so this time, he lands in his root mode behind Pharma.

"There are buildings you can shelter in," he remarks, looking around as he trails after the mech. "With roofs, even."

"Thank you for your pearl of wisdom," he mutters, partly muffled as he reaches into the rubble and digs around almost blindly. "I have sheltered in the ones I have found; it's a big city."

Finally, he pulls out of the rubble, carefully pulling something out with him. First Aid's arm, which is looking quite dusty. Pharma just kind of tries to brush off the worst of it before presenting it to Sixshot, expression neutral with just a hint of 'okay now please don't kill me'.

There's a brief moment of Sixshot simply just peering down at the medic, past the proffered limb, expression contemplative.

The moment passes without much fanfare and Sixshot gently takes the arm from Pharma's hands, carefully folding it up for transport.

"You can live," he says with a slight shrug and turns to go. "For now."

He just kind of stays in that position, waiting and hoping Sixshot just kind of takes it. Seriously. Any day now. Once he does, Pharma drops his hands and nods. "Well. Good talk, then."

Pharma doesn't allow himself a deep exhale of relief until Sixshot's turned his back and is far enough away that he feels comfortable doing so, sliding down to the ground.