robothell | (no subject)

Entry tags:

spinister | triggerhappycopter

(no subject)

Who: Spinister and anyone who has the misfortune of dropping by the Autobot clinic
Where: The Autobot clinic!
When: Before the medics are rescued!
What: Spinister is re-arranging everything.
Warnings: You might possibly get hissed at.

The whole clinic was a bit of a mess.

An extremely tidy, perfectly cataloged mess, because Spinister was the kind of mech who liked his workspace organized down to the last teeny, tiny screw. But, well, things weren't where they used to be anymore and where they were going was still up in the air right now since he's still figuring out where everything is. It was new territory!

And a lot bigger than the cramped spaces he was normally used to, too, so he's not entirely sure what to do with all this space.

Also, the medical drone was now purple.

Feel free to come drop by and say hi to the new temporary head of the clinic. No guarantees he's going to say 'hi' back though.

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"You can stay!" Spinister huffs, twisting to dodge the bite with the grace of a mech who has had waaayyy too much practice. He plonks Kagerou down in the shower, feet first. "You just need to wash first!"

At which point, the surgeon turns the shower on and grabs a scrubber.

What is even happening here.

His feet kick in futile motions when he's put down, looking around wildly for some sort of escape and finding nothing. Is this some kind of punishment? For what he was accused of?

"Who are you!"

If there were anything to jump up and cling onto, he would have.

"I'm Spinister!" he declares, squeezing a good dollop of cleaning agent onto the brush and then going to scrubbing the heck out of everything he can reach on poor Kagerou. "Who are you? I haven't seen or heard of you before."

Honestly, it's like trying to bathe a cat. He's never really had it happen before, given he was kept indoors his entire life -- before breaking out, and coming here. It doesn't hurt though. So he eventually settles for squirming and fidgeting and staring accusingly up at the helicopter.

"Kagerou," he grumbles. "I don't like to be seen. I'm a shadow. Nothing more."

"Oh, cool," Spinister says in reply to the bout of broody dramatics. Of course now that Kagerou was looking at him, it was clearly the time to brush his face.

"So what did you need? Most folks don't come in here just for a shower!"

"Cool--"

He doesn't get the word out before there's a brush in his face, and he's sputtering and shuddering. It's impossible to talk with that thing rubbing over his face. He turns away from it as best he can, trying to get a word out.

"I-- stop! I was -- I need gasoline--!"

"Gasoline?" Fortunately, Spinister does stop, mostly so he can land the full force of his confused expression on Kagerou's foam covered face.

"What is this... 'gasoline'?"

He starts to answer, but then he has to spit foam out of his mouth. Looking up at the helicopter accusingly. Though it comes off more like a sullen teenager than anything.

"Fuel," he manages, finally. "It's fuel. I need it."

"Well, that's going to be a problem because I don't know about any kind of gasoline source around here at all."

He taps his chin with the scrub thoughtfully though, looking Kagerou up and down. "But I can give you a powerplant that runs on energon?"

"That's why I was looking."

He says it as though that should be obvious. Like this bot invading his space should just know what he's talking about.

"... how does that help?"

"Well, you wouldn't need to rely on an exotic and hard to find fuel source."

Even if there was some of this 'gasoline' on Cybertron, it was probably going to be a finite source.

"Exotic...? But everyone uses it."

At least, that's what he thought. He never thought these other robots would need anything... other than what he used.

"I've never met anyone who used anything like that. Aliens maybe?" Shaking his head, he goes back to scrubbing Kagerou over. "Aliens've got some pretty weird energy sources. Like, there's apparently this one organic race that just freaking digs up old dead organic stuff. Not even fresh dead organic stuff, but dead stuff that's been in the ground for a few billion years- and they use it for fuel!"

"Like, wow, how inefficient is that, huh? And they were right next to a perfectly good star too!"

"Alie--"

He doesn't get a chance to really speak. Or finish his question. There's another scrub brush in his face. He has to spit out a few mouthfuls of bubbles. And flick it off his wings, swatting Spinister with them when the brush touches them.

"Be careful with those!"

And then he adds: "I don't know what you're talking about. I only know what my systems need."

"That's because you're an alien, duh." Obviously!

Spinister is only marginally more careful with Kageou's wings as he was with his face, sorry mate.

"Basically, if you don't get some kind of energon related work around, you're kind of screwed out here. Or you... go into stasis lock? Are you built with a stasis lock thing?"

"No, you are."

Duh, Spin. But he seems more mollified by the careful treatment of his wings, though he still scowls. Sulking, really.

"I don't know what that is."

"That's probably a 'no'." Figures since the kid was a weird alien sort. "Basically, we shut down as a fuel saving measure or in cases of bad injuries. Some people can stay in stasis for decades."

"Turn around a bit- don't worry, I already got your face."

"... No. I don't do that. I just die."

Which is terrifying. And that fear probably shows in the way his voice hitches on that last word. He hasn't... really thought about it. He's been too busy trying to keep his metaphoric feet under him in this strange place.

But now it's hitting him. And he just sort of numbly stares at the wall while Spinister works, turning mechanically when asked.

"I don't want to die."

"... So they made you self aware, but they didn't give anyone a way to reboot you without killing you?"

... What?

What???

How did they even do software upgrades then?

"... I'm just a prototype. I wasn't meant to live at all."

Ouch.

There's a lot of bitterness in the words, but they're the truth. The entire truth.

"Actually, if you're a prototype then you ought to have been made to reboot or shut down well," Spinister scrubs at the back of Kagerou's knees. "Otherwise, the system engineers would have had a nightmare just trying to install new software if it just resets every single time they need to shut down."

"Which probably means your systems makers are a bunch of knobs and hacks."

"What does it matter what you call it?"

Somehow, he can't make it come out angrily. Or aggressively. He just ends up sounding tired as he's shoved around by Spinister's brush. This is a conversation he's had many times in his own head. And once when it actually mattered.

"No matter what they install. If they reformat me, it's death, all the same."

"Not if you kill them first, huh?" Spinister says, grinning and patting Kagerou's shoulder. "That's how we Decepticons solved our problems! We destroyed the senate by killing all the politicians in it. I mean, it started a million other problems and Megatron started going a biiiiit power crazy, but you know, one step at a time."

"Admittedly, I think a UPS might be better in your case," he says, flicking the shower off and dumping a towel on top of Kagerou's head.

"Kill them?" He just stares at Spinister, like that never occurred to him -- outside of using the girl as a shield. That was all he'd tried. And then that stare continues. "You... kill people?"

Who is this guy even. Why is he rubbing things all over him. Should he be concerned?

"A wha--"

And then it's dark. And he goes quiet. You know, like birds do under blankets.

"Yep! Killing people is part of the whole Decepticon soldier job description," he answers cheerfully.

"And a UPS is an uninterrupted power supply. We don't exactly have a battery ready for strapping onto you yet, so you're kinda stuck on a cord until I get scramble something together."

"You up for that?" He turns back to Kagerou and stares expectantly at the towel covered figure for a moment. When the waiting inspires no answer, he reaches out and carefully pulls the towel up.

"Hello?"

"Why?"

He really doesn't understand. Not in the least. Why would it be someone's job to kill people?

But for a while, he stays quiet under the blanket. Whether he's thinking, or just feels safe under there, who can say. As the towel lifts, he peeks out, cautiously. Blinking wide-eyed at Spinister.

"Hello." A beat. "Yes. I... am."

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