tagging this log constitutes consent to be hugged by a small purple autobot

[quantumechanic]

Who: Nautica and whoever is not going to start shit
Where: the clinic
When: after she gets hurled into a wall (thx tfp megatron) and before she's off the robot drugs
What: drugged-up Nautica is even friendlier than regular Nautica
Warnings: shameless fluff?

A docile patient, particularly in comparison to the other people around here likely to end up in the clinic, Nautica was curled up on her side in a berth, uncomplaining despite the fresh welds spidering silver across her back and impeller housings. The circuit dampers keeping those welds from bothering her might have been slightly miscalibrated--she was a small mech, and didn't have a tolerance built up from a lifetime of hospital stays over the course of an unending war. It was hardly the medics' fault they'd erred on the high side, especially considering the scavenged supplies they had to work with.

It did mean, however, that she was feeling no pain, either literally or in the colloquial sense, and for the moment was quite involved in watching her fingers as she repeatedly flexed them into claws or drummed them somewhat less than rhythmically on the edge of the slab. Hands were so complicated.

Comments

[planate]

"Again?"

Robot jocks, man.

"Ah..." On the subject of something that ISN'T robo-testosterone, "Do you want any energon or anything?"

[quantumechanic]

No such luck, buddy. Nautica poked around the common area briefly, finding no sign of her wrench (Spinister's was vastly inferior, gosh) before starting on the connecting rooms. Tarn's was the first she tried, and she stopped short in the doorway, horrified by his wounds. What could even do that to a mech his size and build?

"Tarn? Oh Prima, what happened to you?" Her wrench could wait. This was awful. Nautica almost ran up to the berth. She was either the best actor Caminus had ever produced, or genuinely distraught.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn opens an optic peering over his treads at the intruder. Nautica? How the hell did she find him? The genuine concern in her voice as she sped over to him was certainly unexpected. Surely she had heard about Drift and Ratchet.

Still she is just as charming as ever. Tarn vaguely thinks that this sort of concern for his well being is a welcome change of pace. That is, until his eyes fall on her Autobrand and recent events come rushing back to mind.

"You should leave." He whispers, voice hoarse in comparison to his normal silky timbre

[quantumechanic]

Nautica was behind on current events; she had her own problems, though the new welds weren't obvious unless she had her back turned. Her altered state wasn't obvious either, though that wouldn't take long to change.

"Don't be ridiculous." She didn't have anywhere to be besides a hospital berth, but that was boring and she felt fine. Plus, she left a note, she was pretty sure. Nautica laid a hand on Tarn's arm, lightly, where she could see there wasn't any damage. "Being hurt is bad enough without being alone, too."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn remains silent as Nautica's hand rests on his arm, in a strangely gentle caress. He can't help the slight jerk that his arm automatically does in reaction.

"I promise you, Nautica, you don't want to be around me right now." He sighs turning his face away and digging his hand more firmly over the spot that his badge once rested. "I'm afraid I will be poor company at the moment."

[aminerproblem]

Nautica no, stop squirming while he's back here. Fortunately, he's mostly finished by the time she decides to twist around and look at Impactor, so he soon pulls his hands away with no incident. He couldn't help but feel a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I've heard Impactor called many things in his life, but classy is certainly a new one."

He stands to his feet and steps to the side, glancing back at his ex-co-worker,"Her name is Nautica, by the way. She may have been given a slightly elevated dosage of pain damper - if you couldn't guess."

[quantumechanic]

"So? If you're grumpy you'll just remind me of my best friend." Nautica was willing to inconvenience herself for people she liked. Tarn had made the mistake of not outright telling her to leave, so now he was stuck.

She hoisted herself onto the slab to sit next to his head, twisting enough in the process that the neatly-patched damage to her back and impellers was visible, if he happened to be looking.

[quantumechanic]

It wasn't like Nautica's drugged-up behavior was different in kind from her sober behavior. Just in magnitude.

She frowned as she grappled with the problem of figuring out why the name sounded familiar, but had to admit defeat, since she was wrestling with a hand tied behind her back, so to speak. "I swear I've heard that name before..."

[sparkwhisperer]

Turning to look back up at Nautica in shock as she slides onto the berth next to him, Tarn catches sight of repairs made to her back. Despite himself a stab of rage tears through him. His hand comes up from the empty spot on his chest to reach out slowly.

"What happened to you back?" He asks, a thumb running gently over a fresh weld. "Who did this?" He will make them regret it.

Stopping himself, he shakes off the thought. Nautica is an Autobot. He was going to do the same thing before he thought that he had found use in her. And good conversation, he supposes.

[quantumechanic]

Nautica outright giggled, and slapped playfully at his hand, an involuntary tremble running through her impeller housings at the touch. That tickled.

"It was Megatron...not either of the ones from our universe. The one with all the spikes." She patted Tarn on the shoulder, careful to miss any wounds. "It's okay, I'm fine."

[lethalimpact]

The comment from Megatron gets a twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if a smirk was trying to form. It doesn't, but it's the thought that counts, and humor does show in at least his eyes. A little.

"Yeah, she's definitely off her treads."

Although her comment catches his attention, 'brow' perking. He can't imagine there was ever a point that they'd met, even less that she'd have heard of him. Unless....ah, criminal records.

His head tilts up and to the side, as if rattling off his name during a school roll call.

"Fights a lot, avarage about twenty every two weeks. Work in the mines so I don't see topside much. Uh...sent a guy to the medibay cause arms apparently don't twist all the way back."

A pause.

"That's all I got."

[sparkwhisperer]

He quickly pulls his hand away as Nautica slaps at it. Before she clarifies which Megatron, Tarn stiffens preparing to fly into a rage. The one with the spikes?.

"Ah it seems we have something in common then. Minus the spikes and plus an Autobrand."

[quantumechanic]

It took Nautica a second to work through the indirect reference, then her optics got wide. "Megatron--our Megatron? Why would he--" Confused and dismayed, she broke off, looking again at the extensive damage scarring his frame. "Oh, Tarn."

The only thing keeping him from getting a hug was the awkward positioning. Someone really should have explained the DJD to her at some point.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn stares at her for a moment unsure what to do with the outward pouring of sympathy on Nautica's part

"Unfortunate as it is, we don't seem to see eye to eye any longer. He made is stance on the matter very clear. For now I will make myself scarce. At least until I can decide what is to become of me on this New Cybertron. I fear that the outcome may not fall in my favor."

Tarn's voice is soft and resigned, his optics dully shining behind his mask. A sudden wave of disgust strikes. He hates to be seen this way. Weak, and depressed, and utterly useless. He wishes Nautica would leave him to his thoughts. Just this once he wants to be alone.

[aminerproblem]

Nautica is in the unique situation where neither of them really know of Impactor's fate to lead the Wreckers. What he just stated was what Megatron knew, though he crosses his arms as Impactor brings up all the fighting the miner liked to do.

"I was half convinced that the functionists would have scrambled to invent an 'Agitator' class to toss you in at the rate you were going."

Well, now that Megatron officially had a 'murder of a Senate guard' under his own belt, among other things, he'd be there to join him. He was just a bit of a late bloomer in the violent crime department.

[briefcase]

Brainstorm feels heat flush to his faceplates. His throat feels suddenly dry of lubrication, since swallowing felt thick and difficult. He swallows a few times though, his vocalizer glitching with a sputter.

"Well, I--" he starts, then stops. What was he even doing? She wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying! He resets his vocalizer, then sits down and gathers up his briefcase, holding it clutched against his chest.

"You shouldn't fuss with that."

[quantumechanic]

"It gets caught on things." That was mostly because Nautica couldn't manage to refrain from gesturing expansively even with a needle in her arm. She tried one final, ineffectual tug at the tubing before giving up and returning her attention to Brainstorm.

"Why are you hiding behind your briefcase?" He only did that when people were yelling at him, and she looked over her shoulder to see if Ratchet was coming to tell him off for something.

[briefcase]

"I'm not hiding," Brainstorm huffs from where he was hiding behind his briefcase.

He'll make a note to find some sort of tape or adhesive to stick the IV more firmly in place, but right now he was withering in spot from embarrassment. He reaches out again, patting her arm with the tips of his fingers in a sort of 'there, there' gesture.

"Can I get you anything?"

[quantumechanic]

"I'm fine."

He'd gotten in range again. Rookie mistake. Nautica grabbed Brainstorm's hand and used him as a counterweight to pull herself into a sitting position--and then didn't let go.

"See, soon I'll be able to get my own stuff." Since she was listing a good ten degrees to the left and hadn't noticed, that seemed unlikely.

[briefcase]

Yeah, Brainstorm's not having that. He has half a mind to dislodge himself so she flops back down. He doesn't because he's not a complete jerk-- but it does cross his mind.

"Uh-huh. Tell me that again when you arent drugged up to your optics."

He gives Nautica a ginger pat on the head, distracted from her unsteadiness. She needed a weapon, one that she'd keep with her. And if not a weapon, then some kind of proper defense. He's not going to allow Nautica to die if he can do something about it.

[quantumechanic]

Nautica was never that good at the whole 'personal space' thing, but she was worse around Brainstorm, for some inexplicable reason. Being a happy drunk was certainly not helping.

"I. Am. Fine." She wasn't upset--it would take more than Brainstorm being Brainstorm to do that--but she was quite intent on making making him see his glaring error. "Stormy."

[quantumechanic]

"Definitely fighting," Nautica nodded. That sounded right.

She couldn't keep having this conversation while lying with her back to the other two participants, so she started to turn over, which was more of a production than it needed to be, especially given the complications introduced by the IV line.

"Classes are dumb," she informed Megatron, somewhat distracted by the fact she'd managed to catch the IV tubing on the plating of her forearm.

[quantumechanic]

A cinematic masterpiece.

"I want engex."

The list of things Nautica didn't need had that near the top, right under 'rematch with Megatron.'

[quantumechanic]

"It's okay. I don't mind." What she didn't mind wasn't entirely clear, though it probably had something to do with Rodimus' general lack of intellectual curiosity. Jocks were okay. Some of her best friends were jocks.

"Someone has to be the Captain and it's not me." Even though she liked Ultra Magnus and Megatron just fine and wouldn't have minded spending more time with them, Nautica had no illusions about her leadership skills or her desire to have people paying attention to her all the time...or rather, her lack of both.

[quantumechanic]

It was a reasonable concern, given the solicitous expression she was still wearing.

"Just...talk to someone if you need it, okay? Optimus, Ratchet...whoever. You don't have to be untouchable anymore."

Nautica, for all she had trouble reading people in specific, had a pretty solid grasp of them in the abstract...hence why she understood the kind of leadership the Decepticons would have had, but not why Megatron might not want to discuss it with his stoned ship's engineer.