![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[OPEN] Catch-all Rampage Post
Who: Rampage and ANYBODY
Where: Somewhere inside of the city
When: Some time after the medics get back??
What: Trolling under a bridge
Warnings: Horrible people being horrible and nitro-deer abuse.
[A]
Rampage enjoys hiding under things. He's not entirely certain why, but there's nothing quite so comfortable as huddling up in his beast mode in a dark crevice. It's not exactly the easiest thing to find a hole just his size to hunker down in, but today he's found a perfect shadowy gap under the partial wreckage of a bridge. Just the right sort of place to curl up in and have a nap.
Or ambush someone. It's easy for him to tell when someone with a spark comes near. They tickle at the edge of his senses and pull him into wakefulness so that he can lurk in wait, ready to snap out a massive claw and snatch them up. Just for fun, of course.
The sparkless - the humans and other mechanoids and such - have a much easier time of sneaking up on him.
[B]
Occasionally what Rampage manages to catch whilst lurking under things is a nitro-deer. When he's still and silent for long enough, sometimes herds will wander by, usually slightly on edge as though they can sense something is off but can't quite place what. Their nervousness isn't enough to save them all.
When his claw snaps out to grab one up, the herd scatters, most of them fleeing to safety. But nothing can help the small green creature caught in his grasp. It bleats and beeps and kicks, but Rampage pays it no mind. He reaches out with his other claw tip to gently stroke its head.
Voice low and soothing, he says, "There, there, save your cries, little one. The pain hasn't even begun."
[C] Feel free to ask for starters if you have something in mind!
Where: Somewhere inside of the city
When: Some time after the medics get back??
What: Trolling under a bridge
Warnings: Horrible people being horrible and nitro-deer abuse.
[A]
Rampage enjoys hiding under things. He's not entirely certain why, but there's nothing quite so comfortable as huddling up in his beast mode in a dark crevice. It's not exactly the easiest thing to find a hole just his size to hunker down in, but today he's found a perfect shadowy gap under the partial wreckage of a bridge. Just the right sort of place to curl up in and have a nap.
Or ambush someone. It's easy for him to tell when someone with a spark comes near. They tickle at the edge of his senses and pull him into wakefulness so that he can lurk in wait, ready to snap out a massive claw and snatch them up. Just for fun, of course.
The sparkless - the humans and other mechanoids and such - have a much easier time of sneaking up on him.
[B]
Occasionally what Rampage manages to catch whilst lurking under things is a nitro-deer. When he's still and silent for long enough, sometimes herds will wander by, usually slightly on edge as though they can sense something is off but can't quite place what. Their nervousness isn't enough to save them all.
When his claw snaps out to grab one up, the herd scatters, most of them fleeing to safety. But nothing can help the small green creature caught in his grasp. It bleats and beeps and kicks, but Rampage pays it no mind. He reaches out with his other claw tip to gently stroke its head.
Voice low and soothing, he says, "There, there, save your cries, little one. The pain hasn't even begun."
[C] Feel free to ask for starters if you have something in mind!
no subject
"I'm glad. I'm proud of you and Sixshot. You're working very hard."
His hand pulls away and he looks at it, seeing the dust and dirt stuck to it. He makes a small sound, then looks back up at Rampage.
"You're filthy! When's the last time you bathed?"
no subject
Proud? The First Aid is proud of him? And he's not even lying! He can tell when people are lying. It makes him feel... awkward, and he hunkers down closer to the ground, drawing his legs in towards Hus body. What is with this Autobot?
"I'm not doing it for you," he snaps defensively, then stares blankly at the question. "...Awhile."
Come to think of it, he probably hasn't done more than the occasional shake off and wipe down since he arrived. Cleanliness was never really one of his priorities.
no subject
First Aid gives Rampage a rather deadpan look at his response then sighs softly. What's with murder machines being horrible at taking care of themselves? And when did he volunteer as their babysitter? Oh well.
"You've probably got weeks of sludge and grit in your plates. You could get parasites. Come out of there." He reaches for the claw again, trying to tug the crab out of his hiding spot.
"Don't even think of giving me that slag about immortality or whatever. You can't heal dirt out of place."
no subject
Stubbornly he resists First Aid's tugging and actually backs deeper into the hole until he's wedged neatly inside of it.
"I don't need to heal dirt out of place. It's just dirt."
no subject
"It's gross. Do you want to end up with a colony of metal mites inside you?"
First Aid isn't deterred by Rampage's retreat. He squeezes in after him, tugging on him. It's like trying to move a solid wall, but he was hoping the tugging would be annoying.
"You must be itchy. And you smell bad."
no subject
"Nrgh..." And now that First Aid mentions it he is a little itchy.
"Hmph!" He finally gives, moving forward into the light - and shoving First Aid ahead of him if he doesn't get out of the way. "I don't smell bad."
no subject
"How you smell to yourself is different from what other people smell."
He gets out of the way, but he tries to keep his grip on him. Like hell was First Aid going to let Rampage scuttle off.
"Let me climb up and I can get between your plates."
no subject
"If you try to tamper with my systems I'll do for you what I did for the deer."
no subject
Fortunately he doesn't need Rampage's help climbing up his frame. He has plenty of practice with climbing. Having a second hand again helped.
"Why would I do that? That would be stupid."
He swings his legs over each side of Rampage's back, straddling his shell, and plants a hand square in the middle of it. His other hand folds open into several brushes and picks and once he slips one under the seams of the crab's back plate he starts by squiring a small bit of cleanser in the crack.
no subject
He mutters and tucks in his legs as First Aid climbs onto him. A shiver goes through him as First Aid sticks the brush between his plating, and it grows into a a full shudder at the squirt of fluid.
It... it tickles.
"Stop that!"
no subject
"Oh stop whining. You sound like a newborn."
First Aid was fairly used to treating young mechs; the whining and fussiness was part of the the package. He doesn't stop, but his touch was slow and gentle as he starts to scrub, picking sticky, black sludge from under the mech's plates.
no subject
Whining was a privilege he acquired later in life.
He continues to mutter and twitch at the sensations, but doesn't attempt to unseat First Aid. His grumbling is interrupted by a whuf of suppressed involuntary laughter.
no subject
"You know you ought to learn how to do this yourself, or I'll be pinning you down and grooming you every time I see you, buddy."
He's well aware this tickles, but he knows it also can feel rather good. Getting all that grime and grossness out of the joints and such was usually such a relief. First Aid pulls a cloth from his subspace, wiping down the plating as he goes until it gets too filthy to use, which he drops in front of Rampage's face.
"Look how nasty that is. I'm not even anywhere near done."
no subject
"Pinning me down?" Rampage says flatly. He has doubts about First Aid's ability to pin down a nitro-deer, let alone him! He gives another few huffs of partially suppressed laughter, unable to stop wiggling.
"It's a waste of time," he grumbles, though he pauses to stare at the cloth when it drops in front of him. That is pretty gross. He lapses into silence after that, except for the occasional aborted giggle.
Then he speaks up, "They used to just hose me down."
no subject
When the silence descends he continues to work, his knees tightening around Rampage's back so his wiggling won't eventually cause him to slide off. Dirty cleanser, so filthy it was black drips down the places he sprays off.
When Rampage speaks again, he waits for a moment, realizing that he was sharing something personal and giving him time to continue speaking if he wanted to. First Aid's free hand moves to the bit of forehead between the crab's eyes and rubs slow and gently.
"That only gets the surface. Careless."
no subject
He remembers the burn of the high-pressure hoses, stripping paint, blasting between the gaps in his plating to tear as sensitive circuitry. They knew he would repair the damage so they didn't care. It was efficient.
His bulbous crab eyes dim slightly as First Aid begins to rub his head, an odd sense of calmness slowly coming over him. His twitching settles and he grumbles softly.
no subject
First Aid pauses in his leaning, his hand transforming back into it's regular shape. He flattens himself against Rampage's back, spreading his arms into what wold be a hug if he could fit his arms at all over the crab's body.
"Nobody's going to do that to you anymore. And I can show you how to do this so no one has to touch you."
no subject
It's a rather soft grumble, however. First Aid's contact, and the soft sympathetic feelings emanating from his spark leave him feeling oddly warm and fuzzy, even as he presses himself closer to the ground with a slight huff, feeling awkward.
"I can't clean myself," he adds. He just hasn't been. Because whatever. And also he admittedly doesn't have the tools to easily clean under his plating, and his hands are rather large.
no subject
He nuzzles his mask into the flat surface of Rampage's plating between his eyes, butting affectionately. It just sort of occurred to him he doesn't really know what the mech turns into. Sixshot was obvious, as were mechs like Ratrap and Ravage, but Rampage? He had no idea what sort of form this was.
"Is this your preferred mode?" he asks, leaning back up so he can get back to work with cleaning between his plating. He pats him, trying to get him to fluff so he can get between the seams easier.
Typo nooooooo
"I can," he huffs. "I just didn't feel like it. Cut that out."
First Aid's nuzzle leaves him feeling distinctly flustered, and he can't actually huddle any closer to the ground. He twitches his mandible and snaps Hus claws restlessly instead
It's actually a relief when he goes back to cleaning. First Aid doesn't need him to fluff up much, he's already a ruffled crab!
"It's good for resting-" There's something comforting about bundling up in a hole as a ball of crab-monster. "And more stable on rough terrain. Not sure I have a preference."
They're both good modes. The only one that gets a bit ignored is his tank mode.
no subject
"When rigor morphis sets in the body returns to the preferred shape, you know? Imagine your dead body being some mishmash of arms and legs."
Rampage, meet First Aid's extremely morbid sense of humor.
no subject
"It's almost a shame no one will get to witness the glory of that particular monstrosity," he says.
He appreciates morbidity.
no subject
"Almost. Unprecedented at the very least. I'm glad about that, though. Sometimes it's nice having one less life to save."
So much nasty grime under there. Dirty cleanser patters to the ground beneath Rampage as it runs out of his seams and over his shell. Eventually First Aid hums and pauses to inspect his work. As good as it would get out here.
"You want to let me get beneath you to get your belly?"