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Entry tags:
(no subject)
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.
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
He didn't get close to the humans like Ratchet did, but he was still fond of them, in a way.
Prowl goes back to working on his shoulder,"This is nothing. It will heal on its own."
no subject
He's teasing, really. The little smirk on his face says as much. Honestly, he has no reason to doubt what Prowl says. Not now, anyway.
He hangs around, even when Prowl goes back to work, hunkering down on his heels. Just in case.
"You sure? I can grab you some stuff to patch it up better if you want it."