Nautica (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quantumechanic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
robothell2015-02-17 06:42 pm
quantumechanic) wrote in robothell2015-02-17 06:42 pm
tagging this log constitutes consent to be hugged by a small purple autobot
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.
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.
no subject
"If you're going to be a jerk, you can just leave." She settled onto the slab, hands curled under her cheek, and shuttered her optics.
So there.
no subject
"But I didn't--!" he starts, then looks around the medibay helplessly. "I could make you something really amazing!"
no subject
He was serious.
"Stormy, you're impossible." All things considered, it was pretty impressive there was someone out there more prone to missing social cues than she was. She looked up at him, helm still pillowed on her hands and a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I like you anyway."
no subject
He was also seriously terrible at social situations like this. Brainstorm was completely lost.
"You do?" he asks, sounding almost suspicious before he catches himself. "I mean, of course you do. What isn't there to like?"
That's not an invite to tell him his flaws, okay. He clutches his briefcase tighter, his spark pulsing a littler quicker in his chassis.
no subject
She pulled a hand free from under her cheek and reached out to poke him, but misjudged the distance and had to grab at his arm instead to keep herself from rolling off the slab.
"Oops." She laughed again, not bothered by the near-mishap.
no subject
Unfortunately for Nautica, Brainstorm's brilliance didn't quite extend to his social skills. He managed enough to avoid awkwardness, but maybe avoided awkwardness too well.
He almost jumps out of his seat as Nautica lurches forward, hands jerking up to press against her shoulder to steady her, his briefcase clattering out of his lap.
"Nautica..." He narrows his optics in a frown. "Maybe you should be tied down."
no subject
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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.
no subject
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?"
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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."