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[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

[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."

[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.

[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.

[lethalimpact]

There's a half smirk at Megatron's comment. To be honest, he'd love nothing more than to be the 'agitator'. Picking fights were something he knew how to do, and do well.

An eyebrow perks as he watches, before slowly starting to walk over. There's no change on his face, then again, Impactor wasn't really notorious for his expressions.

A hand reaches out, gripping her arm to keep it in place.

"You're gonna tear that out."

Megatron worked hard putting that in okay.