(no subject)

[pffft]

Who: Prowl & YOU?
Where: Somewhere in the city
When: A day or so after giving Verity a concussion
What: Prowl has a few robot papercuts and bruises to patch up; he also searches the fuck out of Verity's apartment
Warnings: Asshole ahoy, and some self repair

A.
With relatively minor injuries, there was nothing stopping Prowl from continuing his pursuit of the Aequitas data once Verity had escaped and he was left alone. No repurposed debris or improvised lock was left unturned as he searched her apartment via holoform. Being able to Sherlock-sense his way through a room certainly helped narrow it down, but in the end his search was unfruitful.

All he'd pulled from the impromptu home were data slugs - ones that were quickly discovered to be dummies once he ran a scan of them through his systems. Leaving nearly everything as it was, nearly everything, he shifts back into vehicle mode and abandons the building. 

A dead end.

B.

Eventually, Prowl allows himself a moment of reprise in a blasted out building he'd found for himself. Not the most glamorous of locations, but functional for what he needed. Somewhere to sit, be alone and tend to himself. 

Prowl's wounds were minor enough that any Autobot with basic knowledge of first aid could repair them. His tools were rudimentary, but functional enough to realign some of the actuators that had been popped out of place. The pain was dull as he picked into the transformation joints of his ankle with a pair of large pliers, feeling them snap back into their anchors with a little persuasion.  

Satisfied, he slides away his shoulder armor to begin to dig into his shoulder joint, unbothered by the small amount of energon still seeping out of broken lines. That should heal well enough on its own.

Comments

B

[asafepairofhands]

There are no severely critical patients left untended in the medibay, and honestly, even Ratchet needs a break from being cooped up once in a while. So he sets out on a 'supply run,' keeping relatively close while he goes through buildings he hasn't seen before to mark if they contain anything useful. He nearly trips over Prowl as he steps inside.

"Well," he says, his optics pale and flat as they flick over Prowl's frame, catching the energon leaking from his shoulder and the pliers in his hand. "I don't suppose there's a reason you didn't drop by the medibay for a visit after you were damaged. How did you sustain those injuries, by the by?"

[pffft]

Prowl continues to pick at his shoulder as Ratchet stares him down. He was no fool, he recognized that thin veil of calm and the false curiosity dripping from his voice. Ratchet knew.

After about a minute, the joint makes the satisfying clunk of an actuator being popped back into its proper place, and the shoulder armor slips back over it. Ordinarily the ordeal would have wrenched a much more agonized reaction out of him, but well - his pain receptors have been rather sluggish as of late.

He stands to his feet, rolling it to test it, and giving Ratchet a calm stare right back.

"Don't you have more severe injuries to preoccupy yourself with?" He rubs the energon off his arm,"This will heal on its own."

[asafepairofhands]

"I have at least one critical patient back in the medibay, but she's being cared for," Ratchet says, the anger in his voice barely even thinly veiled now. His optics narrow when he watches Prowl's non-reaction to the shift in his shoulder, though, the corners of his mouth tightening.

"What is wrong with you?" he demands, barely even knowing where to begin in more specific terms than that.

[pffft]

Looks like his assumption was correct. He meets Ratchet's anger with a cold and distant stare, unbothered by the fact he knew what happened to Verity. It's not like he didn't predict this meeting to eventually happen.

"Critical? You give humans for too little credit. They're hardier than they look."

And he was careful not to apply any lethal force.

[needlefingers]

Chromedome hasn't been having the greatest few months. There's something about losing your love for a second time and the crippling depression that comes from that that takes the joy out of life. But you know, aside from that he's doing just fine. Interacting with people you care about is completely overrated anyway.

Bitter thoughts hounded him as he wanders ghostlike through the streets. So many things he could have said and didn't. So many things he could have done, but no, he couldn't do that either. He pauses when he catches sight of the last person he wants to see. He feels he's done a good job so far avoiding his old friend, but he can't put it off forever. Besides, Chromedome feels up for a fight, whether it be verbal or otherwise.

He pauses for a long moment, summoning up all his anger to one area around his spark, and follows Prowl inside. There's no right way to start a conversation here, so instead he leans against a doorway, watching Prowl tend to his wounds with an expression of utmost loathing.

But Prowl should be used to that by now.

[pffft]

Well, this was the last person he was expecting to come looking for him. Prowl can easily determine from Rewind's lack of presence that Chromedome was in pain. His old partner always did end up digging himself an emotional grave with each new little friend he'd make.

Rising to his feet, he wipes the remaining energon from his shoulder and closes the armor plates. He removes the pliers from his wrist where he'd been tending to a torn cable and stows it away. The combiner frame left no shortage of room.

"You must be desperate if you've come looking for me," he remarks snidely.

[needlefingers]

"Curious, not desperate."

One thing Chromedome is good at doing is being casual even when life is crumbling down around him. So it requires no effort at all to appear casual here. What he really wants to do is kick Prowl in the face. He feverishly hopes that Prowl will give him a reason to.

"After all, what could have possibly have damaged the great and mighty Prowl? Unless you got those from tripping and falling down some stairs. I sure hope so, because that'd be hilarious."

[pffft]

"No, I was cleaning up some loose ends."

He was still in the process of doing so, not that Chromedome needed to do that. But Prowl knew Chromedome wouldn't ordinarily search him out for a fight, unless:

"Rewind's gone, then? I'm sorry to hear that," for all the lack of shits he gave about the little bot's wellbeing, he managed to inject a little false modesty in the sentence.

[optout]

Sorry Prowl, but you're going to have to fit 'being alone' into another day in your calendar. Because right now, someone else seems to have found you, and it's none other than Optimus Prime. Delaying his trip to the outskirts had opened new discoveries--the main one being Verity's presence, and even more important, her injuries. Nothing a small talk and a little bit of inching trust couldn't figure out. But speaking of trust, Optimus's has felt a little breached, and he's going to seek out his second-in-command.

He's always given Prowl the benefit of the doubt, and now is no exception. He knows whatever Prowl's reason was--it was a good one, if ill-executed.

Although finding him proved difficult. When Prowl didn't want to be found, he certainly didn't want to be found. But when finally spotting him among the wreckage of a building, he stands at the doorway, silently looking at his friend as he always had.

Worried.

"You're injured."

His hands reach out instinctively, to help.

[pffft]

Prowl feels his lines go cold as Prime's hand gets near him. Not of fear, but of a strange, old bitterness. He was never one to be particularly inviting when it came to personal space.

A hand comes up to swat the larger one away. He didn't need help.

"I'm fine. It's minor."

He goes back to digging into the joints and lines, tentative and methodical, but comfortable enough with Optimus to leave his mechanisms exposed.

[optout]

While his hands are swatted away, they still hover, albeit a little farther back than they'd previously been. Call it old habits, after Ironhide had only just come back because of Alpha Trion he couldn't really keep his mind at ease no matter how trivial the injury. His optics soften as Prowl starts back up on his minor first aid, kneeling down to him.

"I've known you for years, Prowl. That tone says you're anything but fine--physical or otherwise."

...

He'll give Prowl a moment, before speaking again. "What happened?" He technically already knows bits and pieces, but he's giving Prowl a moment to tell him.

[pffft]

"Doing my job, Prime," he remarks bitterly, his shoulder joint snapping back into place far less painlessly than it should have.

He moves to his wrist, carefully realigning the torn cable with its connector. Handling something that deep wired did seem to bother him a bit, but he was otherwise managing sufficiently.

"I don't expect you to understand."

lmk if this is okay!

[milkruns]

June doesn't know Prowl. June doesn't really know anything about him, except that he was stationed on Earth with Ratchet. And that he was the one who put Verity in the state she's in now. That's really the only salient information here. Ratchet didn't really tell her where she could find Prowl, but that's not really any matter. June figures she'll run into him eventually.

Good timing on the power armor too, Val. It's nice to finally feel safe in the knowledge that if someone missteps it won't prove immediately fatal for her. Handling the armor is another matter -- but she's mostly got the hang of it for now, taking it for a test drive around the ruined city. She's in the vicinity of Verity's place when she hears the hurried crunch of tires on gravel -- she turns in her armor, slower than she'd like, but she catches glimpse of the back of what looks like a police car. Ratchet said Prowl looked like a police car.

"Hey, hold it!" June's tone isn't angry, just firm as she strides after the car. The armor is really taking some getting used to, but once she lets herself settle into the momentum of it running really is quite satisfying. "Stop there, I want to talk to you!"

This is fine

[pffft]

A part of Prowl suspects that running up to him already armored wasn't unintentional. Whoever this human was probably knew Verity. Nonetheless, this woman didn't hold anything he needed, and he could tell from her clumsy manner that she wasn't combat prepared in that suit like Verity was. A non-threat.

He slows down at her request, but doesn't transform. Some of his transformation actuators still needed a little realignment.

"I can't transport you in the suit, if that's what you plan on asking."

[milkruns]

"What? No, I'm not looking for a ride." June frowns to herself, brow furrowed as she catches up to him, the heavy steps of her power armor still a little uneven. "And I certainly don't need one. Is your name Prowl?"

A

[taselikeabee]

If Prowl thought he had been alone, that'd be a mistake on his part. It hadn't been his intention to run into Prowl - or anyone really - but seeing that police car zip off to some unknown location with purpose can't necessarily be a good thing. Thus Bumblebee had done the only thing that he could think of: follow from a distance. Just follow, honestly. Prowl being idle and using an avatar is strange, but Bee had stayed where he is tucked away at.

He waits, honestly, for the guy to do whatever it is he had set his mind to. It's only when Prowl peels away that Bee's headlights flash at his friend to alert the other to his presence. Bumblebee swings next to Prowl, if the other doesn't just take off. He hopes not, because Bee is definitely not in the mood to chase him down.

"Someone's frustrated."

Understatement of the century, that.

[pffft]

All things said and done, he still had a solemn respect for the little yellow vehicle that appears in his periphery. Subtly, the snarl of his engine softens, the tension and strain present in every bolt and plate on his body relaxes, just slightly. Whether or not Bee disagreed with what he was doing, he still accepted his company.

There's a stretch of silence after the greeting. Understatement indeed.

"It's been a long time since I haven't been frustrated," he remarks irritably.

[taselikeabee]

Prowl is going to do what he wants to do. That's just the way of things. Bumblebee knows this and, while he really wishes things would be different, he realizes there's little that he can do about it. If no one noticing that he had been under the influence of the Decepticons hadn't shaken him, then Bee doubts anything the does or says will.

"Oh? You mean you weren't sparked that way?"

Bee teases. He's likely one of the only ones that can get away with it. In reality, he does remember a time where Prowl had been less frustrated.

"Are you going to make me play games to ask you what's going on?"

[pffft]

Prowl doesn't laugh at the joke. But then again, it's also been a long time since he's laughed at anything.

"Just cleaning up our mistakes, per the usual. Only with the new addition of sloppy handiwork that should have been taken care of years ago."

B

[arnhaid]

Energon leaves a trail. However minor it might be. And things were weird enough to where seeing it probably didn't mean anything good was on the horizon. Or future or whatever.

Even though he'd taken up shadowing Optimus as his job around here, sometimes he took a break. And right now, Ironhide's break took him across the spilled energon. Of course he follows it. Of course he ends up at the blasted-out building.

What the hell was Prowl doing in a dump like this?

"Prowl? What happened to you?"

Subtle as a brick there, Ironhide.

Re: B

[pffft]

Ironhide, the whole city is a dump.

But nonetheless, Prowl pauses what he's doing to address the latest interruption to his self-repair. This time, it was big, red, and well-meaning. No, not Optimus.

"Nothing of note, Ironhide. Just a disagreement gotten a bit vigorous."

[arnhaid]

Okay, yes, but that's not the point. The point is, even with the brush off, he pads forward, as if to survey the damage from a better angle.

"A disagreement with what, exactly?"

He's asking more out of concern than anything. With the stories floating around of big, vicious Decepticons ripping people up, it's hard not to be.

"Somethin' needs to get put in its place?"

b

[loyaute]

"That was incredibly stupid of you," Arcee says from where she's perched on one of the openings in a wall - crouched with one hand digging into the crumbling walls. Knowing Prowl like she does, it's only a matter of time before he went to lick his wounds rather than seek medical attention. His pride getting in the way, and his stubbornness which she feels he'd deny existed. But that was Prowl.

She doesn't offer to help.

[pffft]

Prowl continues to work, undisturbed by Arcee's sudden emergence into the building.

"Did you really think I was going to kill her?" he asks with some irritation hovering in his voice.

[loyaute]

Her expression doesn't change at his irritation, just a slight tilt of her head in indication that she heard him before answering. "Do you want an answer or a reason to justify your anger?"

Prowl's anger doesn't scare her. Any attempts he might try to retaliate don't either. She's seen worse, she's felt worse. Her anger is a razor sharp blade that's tempered by the continual murder of Jihaxus, what can Prowl do that's worse? She doesn't know and she doesn't care.