re_alignment_logs | I don't rememeber myself, but I still remember you [Closed]

She wasn't silly enough to believe the set of hover-devices she'd found herself with earlier would last - and anyway, she wasn't sure this was the best solution since nearly any simple obstacle was in the way... But that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying it while it lasted and until Solus Prime could help her obtain her new altmode.

The Junk Pile wasn't the best place to be enjoying her ability to user her altmode on the ground, but it was still somewhat faster than running as long as she was careful, and she wanted the chance to enjoy using her altmode as intended as well.

And now that she could get to Alpha Trion's quadrant and the lakes there a lot faster than before, she would not give up on that.

Maybe the fact that she was more concentrated on navigating the Junk Pile at as high speeds as possible while not getting caught in the multitude of obstacles navigated this area offered probably "helped" her get caught in the explosion of one of the bombs Blurr had put in the Junk Pile.

There were some signs possible to pick up, after all, and her usual function included picking up of those details.

Not tonight, however, and as Elita rounded a smaller pile, the explosion hit her in the side. Light and heat, along with a crushing force as she flew through the air from the shockwave, instinctively transforming to smake her less of a coherent target, but there were at leats two points of shrapnel heavy sharp enough to penetrate and rip through armour.

She didn't make any sound besides that of her frame hitting the ground itself, bouncing once, and then twice, and at that point she had to shut down her vocaliser, and then she skidded, junk both slowing her speed and aiding in transporting her further away from the origin of the bomb.

She finally slammed into something large and stopped, and while she had the urge to let her vents stutter and glitch to get rid of the dust and small particles, the most important thing was keeping everything going as it should.

Steady.

One hand twitched and she hoped no one else had gotten caught in the explosion and she didn't quite dare looking at the initial damage report as the scan ran and alerts continued to pop up.

"-What?!"

Orion jumped at the sound of the explosion, narrowly dodging the mess of junk that came tumbling down from the piles around him from the shockwave. For a moment, he was at a loss, before spark-deep instincts older than his current form kicked in.

He ran toward the source of the explosion, not considering that there might be more bombs; instead only concerned that someone may have been close enough to be caught in the blast. As he neared the smoke, it was obvious a number of things had been thrown by the explosion, leaving trails through the junk.

The sight of something pink, familiar pink, half-hidden by smoke and scrap, made his spark jerk in his chest-plating.

"Hello? Anyone hurt out there?" Optics wide, he raced toward the pink thing, which was quickly looking a lot like a body...

The voice was familiar and not, and Elita managed to groan - mostly to herself because what if there were more bombs around? - and brought an arm inwards. She'd meant to use it to prop herself up, but a warning alert about waiting for an integrity report for safety's sake stopped her and she slumped back, front of the helm resting on her arm.

She hurt all over.

Which wasn't so strange, as she began to slowly glance through the preliminary results of the damage report; one hull-panel ripped through with a long tear and not responding, a smaller one in her abdomen, several other parts of her armour cracked, crushed or otherwise compromised... But at least there were no lost limbs.

Though one leg didn't respond to the demand to move, so there was obviously more damage going on than simple integrity breach in her armour, and one hand was only sporadically responding or sending complete sensory feedback.

She was just relieved her helm felt completely intact - well, besides some surface damage.

And the Prime..? She thought, anyway, had apparently decided to risk it. She grimaced and shook her helm slowly.

::There could be other bombs---:: Not about to attempt to use her vocaliser just yet.

That voice - even over the rather staticy communication - was familiar, and Orion put on a burst of speed so quickly he nearly tripped over himself.

::Elita! How badly were you hit?::

If there were bombs there was likely attackers, so he prudently switched to the comm to save noise...not that it stopped him from skidding to his knees in the junk at Elita's side.

"...Primus." He muttered despite himself, optics wide and horrified at the damage. Tossing off the few bits of scrap that rained down on her with her landing, he cautiously moved to press hands over the largest leak on her side, enegon already beginning to puddle under her.

There was something odd with his voice. Not that they had talked a lot of times, or exceedingly long for those times, but they'd certainly talked long enough for her to pick out the details and quality of this Optimus Prime's voice...

::I... One panel ripped through, several gashes, compromised integrity in several places in my armour, left leg isn't responding and my left hand is doing so only intermittently--:: She couldn't quite stop the groan that escaped as he moved her to attempt to stem the sluggish but insistent flow of energon from the gash in her abdomen.

Had that ruptured her fuel tank, or "just" some (vital) fuel lines? She couldn't tell, but the latter she could fix immediately on her own with some forceful redirection and tying off, while the first... needed a medic.

"It could be worse, you..?" Finally looking up, Elita trailed off in confusion, staring at... well, she didn't recognize him, besides the details that all added up to "similar to Optimus Prime", but not actually the Optimus Prime she'd talked to before.

... Something to do with the strangeness going on? An earlier altmode? But even another altmode couldn't account for the severe differences in looks...

It was easy to dismiss the strange stare and the odd look to her frame over the more pressing concern of her injuries. Despite his spark-deep fear for her, he managed a somewhat wobbly, reassuring smile, optics alight with obvious affection.

"It will be alright. Can you raise any medics on this comm system? I don't know anyone else here in this strange place!"

Even as he asked, fighting panic - he was in training for upgrading to police duty back home, he could handle this; why did all the programming seem to fade away when it was her fluids staining his hands? - he pulled away to rummage through his subspace, ejecting a small kit.

"I have an emergency field kit, but I don't know how much good it will do..."

But he was damn well going to try.

Young. That was the first thought that wandered in right as he smiled. Whatever had happened, whether this was the same Optimus or another one or not, this one was young. Second was a note that it was a very cute smile, however unsteady.

"I would... But I don't think that's a good idea. There's probably more bombs." She'd just been looking over the Link and seen the strange post from Blurr and some of the replies.

Playing. About the location of the bombs, and then there'd been the audio-only clip, with multiple explosions. There could be more. Refocusing back on... Optimus? Elita shook her helm slowly.

"We can use it, you should be able to at least cap off the torn lines. I don't think anything else has ruptured fuel or coolant lines." Mostly pressure damage from the shockwave; she hadn't, luckily, been standing in the explosion, most of the tears and deeper damage was due to shrapnel.

"I want you to turn off your optics for a moment though. Audio as well if you have to, take a vent, activate them one by one and then pick up that kit. I can't do it one-handed," Elita said with a frown, keeping her voice steady and quiet, reaching out with her good hand to grasp his lower arm.

She could easily see he was nearing (or, honestly, already in) panic, and maybe a moment would help. She wasn't going to offline immediately, there was time to get Optimus somewhat settled.

Orion froze, cringing. Right. Yeah. He knew better than that. Trust Elita to keep a clear processor when the scrap went down.

"...Of course. Right." Venting out a quick sigh with (briefly) closed optics. It was probably too short a time to do much good, but the gentle chastisement had the proper effect. Hands much more steady, he reached into the kit for the electrical bonding tape, giving her frame a critical once-over in askance.

"Which area is giving you the worst warnings?"

Well, it was easy with years and training behind her that he obviously wasn't remembering anymore, somehow. Being busy as she was at the moment, the reality that she was talking to a younger Optimus - to someone for whom his Elita hadn't been gone for a few million years, lending some distance perhaps, hadn't truly set it.

Glancing herself over as well as she could at the question, a visual inspection to confirm the feedback and data, she shook her helm slowly.

"There's not... nh, much you can do about my hull panel, but that's mostly circuitry and wiring anyway," she said, having to ignore the slight skips as pain made itself known, and brushed around the wound in her side which he had been pressing his hands to earlier.

"This one. Self-repair can't even start fixing what can be fixing if I keep leaking." Now, 'leaking' was probably slightly too optimistic a thing to call it, but it certainly wasn't a flood either.

"...Copy that."

Young was right - but thankfully, young did not equate to 'unskilled'. Now that he had calmed, Orion went right to work where Elita had indicated. It certainly wasn't easy to maintain a professional facade when it was Elita he would be hurting with the barely-trained repairs; his jaw was clenched hard enough to creak, but he didn't freeze when he actually had to reach inside to wrap the worst of the lines. He was thankful he had never traded in his more finely articulated digits for something more combat-ready, instead opting to just add armor. No where near medic level as it was, he'd be even more ill-suited for the task otherwise.

"...Keep me updated. Let me know if you feel close to falling offline." Orion briefly glanced up from his work, face set tensely with worry. One particularly bad line was missing an entire section, sheered away by shrapnel, and he was forced to clamp the lines before he could do a particularly messy patch job.

Tape, tubing, emergency clamps, wire strippers, nanite sealant foam; the kit was well-stocked, but all were temporary measures.

Temporary was all that was needed, truly, even if it was potentially life-saving temporary. She kept herself still with long practice as... Optimus? felt around the wound, sealing off and wrapping up what could be, slowly but surely stopping what would in the end have been a life-threatening leak.

"... I don't think..." And then she trailed off, stopping herself and actually checking her remaining energy levels. Luckily, nothing critical, but her limbs were feeling somewhat heavy and uncooperative, beyond the injuries, and while that was mostly her self-repair trying to ensure she'd minimise resources spent in other ways by making her unwilling to move...

"32.9% percent. Should be another fifteen before I'd risk going offline from medical necessity, and stasis-lock not until 8-5%." She frowned, optics slightly dull as she attempted to make the hand that was only sporadically obey her to do so.

It was... partially successful.

Orion gave her a sharp look when she mentioned the energy levels, and he shook his head hard as he finished up wrapping another line.

"I'd connect you to my own hardlines before that happened."

Which was somewhat stupid if you were someone other than a medic, but Orion, despite not being as large as he would be as Optimus Prime, was still huge enough to take that sort of drain.

She could have said quite a few things at that offer. She almost protested that she wasn't the Elita he obviously thought she was and that he was thus offering to risk his life for someone other than he thought, but...

But that would probably be harder for him to accept at the moment than it had been when they'd first met. In the end, Elita shook her helm, hand tightening on his arm.

"Even if you've still got more bulk than I do, that's a foolish idea. You know it is." Not that she'd necessarily be able to stop him, if it came down to it; she had too little function or strength in both arms now and would have even less if her energon levels dropped sharply.

He shook his head stubbornly, not tearing his gaze away from the complicated net of torn wiring and leaking microlines he was busy filling up with sealant foam. It was too delicate for him to deal with, especially with the added stress of Elita's self-sacrificial suggestions.

"Know it or not, I will do it if I must."

As he finished with the foam, Orion caught her gaze for a brief moment; his optics were bright with unconcealed worry, but there was a stubborn set to his jaw.

He'd save her, or die in the trying.

He finally looked away. "...Can you roll over or shift at all? There is a tear in your side here I can't reach."

It was awkward to hear the conviction in his voice. Touching as well, but it's not technically for her. But she was too distracted by pain and lack of function and the injuries for it to bother her much.

"I don't think you will need to, luckily..." She trailed off, and it was impossible not to reach out and rest her fully functioning hand briefly against his chestplates for that look.

It struck her how much more open this younger version is... Which, of course, made sense.

"I'm injured, not paralysed," Elita said with a slow shake of her helm and tapped her fingers against the metal of the chestplates before she used that as leverage to shift her position and bare the tear he wanted to reach.

"...Hopefully."

He simply nodded at the chastisement, clearly not holding anything said in pain against her. Gently, he placed a palm on an uninjured section of her back to help prop her up, and took most of the pressure off her injured systems.

The spilt energon around the wound was already turning gummy; it was clearly mixing with coolant or some other fluid spilling out from another split line. He had to take a small, rather inefficient suction tool to the wound before he could even see inside, wincing at the horrible squelching sound. The sticky consistency couldn't be good for her fuel line flow, but it was turning out to be a boon for her energon loss: the tears in the lines were already half sealed, and he was able to pack it with more expanding foam to temporarily finish the job.

"...How is that?"

It hadn't been meant as any sort of reproach, but he was probably right that pain made her voice sharper than she'd meant it to be, and left her unnoticing this fact.

She grimaced at the noise, and did well in not trying to look; she wasn't squeamish, but she didn't feel the need to get visual confirmation of her injuries as well as the diagnostics of them.

"... I..." She paused, considering, sending out a few careful pings and localized diagnostics, and is certainly relieved at the results she gets back. There's still pain, and will be until everything's properly repaired one way or another, but otherwise...

"Better. There's nothing but a few trickles elsewhere, too deep to get to... pressure breaks, I think. You got all the big, surface things." Elita smiled, reaching out to squeeze the nearest hand she could reach, for once not at all considering who she wasn't to him, and what he might be seeing.

"Thank you."

Grimly, he shook his head.

"You don't have to thank me. Not for this. I wish there was more I could do."

It wasn't the first time he'd cursed himself for not being sparked a medic, and it would not be the last. The smaller hand over his own seemed to soothe the expression somewhat, and he turned his hand to catch her fingers in his palm, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Now, how about we work out how to get you out of here without reopening those seals?"

She huffed, shaking her own helm but didn't contradict what he said. Everybody couldn't do everything, but there was no reason to bring that up right now.

"... A good idea. They're in somewhat... troublesome places," Elita said with a frown, redirecting her attention towards getting herself from here to a medic, instead of everything else.

Shifting and getting her fully working hand beneath herself, she tested the weight she could lift and promptly was reminded of the fact that one leg wasn't responsive at all beneath the knee.

An annoyed static sigh escaped her and she turned to look to Orion.

"I was going to say you're going to have to help me up, but you might have to do more than that... Unless I can walk with some assistance, despite one leg being unresponsive." She didn't much like needing as much help as this was turning out to be, but she wouldn't whine and drag about it either.

That was, frankly, useless and foolish. There were better ways to use the time and effort needed.

Orion made a face as Elita moved to lift herself up, but made no move to protest - she was a stubborn as he was, and he knew it. He would want to test his own capabilities first as well, but he wasn't surprised in the least when she failed.

"...I'd rather you didn't try it, honestly. I don't know how any of those foam-patches will hold under that sort of movement. Here, let me just..."

He leaned down more closely, examining the pile Elita was resting on, and the angle of the wounds. Slowly, he began working his arms between her and the scrap, glancing at her for confirmation as he went along, to make sure he wasn't hitting any wounds or putting any more stress on damages than needed.

Obviously, he intended on carrying her out.

Edited 2012-10-12 10:01 (UTC)

"... Probably not, no." Another static sigh and she raised the arm closest to him when he leaned in close and began to worm his arms under her to rest it over a wheel and around the back of his neck, since it was obvious what he intended...

Intended to do probably the whole way back to a medic, since he probably was right about the foam-patches not holding under too much stress or movement.

"It's all right. Let's just... get out of here," Elita said with shake of her helm as he looked to her, waving the hand she hadn't looped around his neck, out and away from them.

Carefully, settling her in his arms, Orion scooped her up close to his chest plates.

"...There we go. Let me know if anything shifts?" It was hard to keep himself from fretting too hard, but that would only annoy the Elita he knew.

"I'll follow the same path out that I used on the way in. That should still be safe from these bombs, unless the mad bomber is still seeding the pathways."

Which didn't even bear thinking about.

Making sure her back-mounted panels were lifted up and backwards to not press against the arm he had around her back, though, of course, there wasn't much she could do about the bulk of the underside of the altmode hull itself, Elita just reached out to pat the nearest bit of plating.

She hesitated, but did it, since being annoyed over the fretting wouldn't be useful here, and this... was a younger version of Optimus.

"I doubt it will, since you're carrying me, unless you trip or something." Which she doubted he would.

"Well, while he is doubtlessly fast enough to accomplish that, we'd probably have seen something... And hopefully someone else got to him and is restraining him," Elita said with a frown, unhappy that she hadn't been able to disarm any of the bombs or find Blurr in time.

"Hopefully not," Orion grunted, opting to focus on his task and deal with the possibility of the bomber if he appeared. Stepping gently was not a talent of his, and it was all he could do to keep from jostling the injured femme.

But that didn't stop him from scanning the path as he went, looking for anything suddenly out of place or matching the signal-descriptions that fit possible explosives. They did train for that sort of thing, but upgrades he didn't have would have made it far more reliable.

"I'm not that clumsy!" He managed a wry smile, glancing down briefly at the pat; the tone likely referencing some past joke or shared experience between himself and 'his own' Elita.

"Or so you say," Elita said, the retort automatic and unthinking, gently teasing. Anything to take her mind off the fact that this way, their progress would be relatively slow, and it was far to Solus' temple...

Even if they chose the underground path, which might be a good idea, actually.

"Do you kno where one of the entrances to the underground access to Solus' temple is? That's where we need to go." Since that was where Elita knew there was a med. bay.

"Ouch!" He laughed, shaking his head as he gave her a mock-glare. "Remind me to show you how 'clumsy' I can be when you're repaired again." His engine revved challengingly, but he did nothing to change his pace or jostle any wounds, stepping as softly as ever.

He quickly sobered, shaking his head.

"...And no, I don't know them. But I am sure you can guide me. How far are they from here?"

No way to mistake that and despite the fact that the rev of the engine is delightfully deep, displaying its potential output, Elita winced, and then managed to laugh, shaking her helm.

"I'm sure you would want to, but let's not do anything hasty," she said it with a grin, but it was a reminder to herself as much as trying to keep up the facade.

She was getting less and less sure not telling this version that she (still) wasn't the right Elita was the correct decision.

"That way, to start with." She pointed in the correct direction and then gave their distance from her and Orion's current location.

It was easy enough to mistake that wince for a gesture of physical pain rather than emotional discomfort, and he toned down his revving immediately, afraid that it might be the armor rattling that was causing her more pain. He expression briefly dropped as well, exposing naked pity and concern - and blatantly obvious affection - before he forcefully resumed his lighter air and turned them toward Solus' temple.

"It's not hasty. I'm giving you plenty of fair warning, after all."

Elita almost asked him to continue and not quiet down the revving of his engine, but she snapped her vocaliser shut around this words, as well as the annoyance over the pity.

She didn't need pity, merely help. Concern wasn't unwelcome though. The affection, however...

"... Mmm, you are, at that. On the other hand, that might give me an unfair advantage." Elita almost revealed she was not the right one... and then realised that wasn't a good idea, out here, in need of repairs as she was.

It might be a bit cruel, but it'd be safer, more practical and easier to tell him when she was somewhere safer at the least, if not repaired.

So instead Elita shifted her arms to be able to lean her cheek against the upper edge of his chest-plating as she spoke, and let her optics flicker out. Not in any attempt to trick him into thinking she was recharging, but hopefully there'd be less need to play along.

And she was, to be honest, getting tired.

"...Too true. But I do still have a few tricks hidden away in my programming, after all."

He went quiet when she relaxed against him. It was a good plan, and Orion's only reaction was a quick, worried increase in scans that lasted all of a second. Satisfied that she was resting rather than bleeding out, he allowed himself a brief engine thrum of relief before continuing on his way to the temple.

Thankfully, the route was bomb-free, and he was able to find his way into Solus' territory - and the medbay - readily enough.

Which was lucky, since even if she wasn't bleeding out, the tiredness meant sinking energy levels and was worrying enough on its own...

The repairs went well, however, and it wasn't really necessary for her to stay. This had on the other hand cemented her decision to download the schematics for the new altmode Solus Prime had gifted her with, as soon as the repairs had settled.

"... Ah. You waited." Elita paused in the doorway out of the medbay, her small smile genuine as she understood why he'd waited, but was nonetheless flattered... But it also hid the flash of guilt.

Since he had waited, she would tell him.

He didn't deserve to be kept in the dark any longer.

Despite the wait, Orion jerked up to his feet with a wide smile as soon as he spotted her, hands held out as he automatically moved for an embrace.

"Of course. How are you feeling? How did the repairs go?" He looked her up and down, obviously pleased by the obvious repairs, but his optics caught on her 'wings' as he seemed to notice the oddity of her alt mode for the first time now that the danger had passed.

But it wasn't enough of a difference for him to call out it. Not yet.

Elita certainly was, however, because that hug wasn't - and shouldn't, unless he actually meant it for her - be for her, so even as she took a step forward, she held an arm up, palm out.

"Wait." She shook her helm, only briefly stalling for time and then straightened up. "I'm all right. Your patchwork did waht it should, and well. Thank you." Dipping her helm in something between a nod and a thanks, Elita she knew had to say something now.

It was as good a moment as it got, danger over, and waiting any longer would be cruel.

"You ought to know, though, I'm not the Elita from your reality. I couldn't tell if you knew at first or not, and it was quite busy as it was either way." There was probably a gentler, better way to phrase it, give the revelation over... But as she stood there, arms folded over her chest, that didn't seem good enough.

But she dealt with facts, practical things... While she certainly was good at spotting emotions and moods, that didn't mean she was always excellent at knowing how to deal with them.

Orion froze when she indicated, though the confusion flashing across his faceplates was obvious...and it only got worse at her confession. In fact, it rather looked like someone had just hit him in the head with a steel beam.

"I...what now?"

He stumbled back a step, shaking his head lightly.

"I know this place is strange but...different reality? You're...you, Elita..."

He looked hurt and lost, vulnerably so; but, unerringly, despite the dread in his face, his gaze crawled back up to her 'wings' once more.

She winced at his reaction, the back mounted panels flexing and then tucking in, but even that can't make them invisible.

"I'm sorry." Even as she said it, she slowly got closer; she had no idea if he'd want the reassurance, but not offering something of the sort seemed worse than just standing there, and simply leaving now yet worse than either of them.

"Where I'm from, I haven't met your alternate more than very briefly." And at a distance. And if Orion didn't move or indicate he didn't want it, Elita would end up curling a hand around the nearest one of his she could reach.

"My alternate?"

He'd heard of 'alternates' here, copies from other dimensions. He had not considered it applied to him in the least-

Slowly, shocked faceplates twisted in realization, and he faltered back another step, away from her touch even if he regretted avoiding it the moment after.

"...You don't even know me, do you?"

He did not even know her.

A lesser mech might have bolted; Orion looked sorely pressed to do just that. He probably would have, if he had any idea about where to go.

He just looked lost.

This reaction makes it so very obvious that it's a younger version she has in front of her, and she briefly considered letting that flinch guide her, but given that look...

Maybe she shouldn't have, but she took a slightly faster step forward and curled a hand around an elbow.

"Only what I've learned while being here, and it's been... interesting." What else can she say, really? Especially given that expression.

"You know the location of where you have your room?" Give him an out, and if nothing else, if this version wasn't even sure which temple he belonged to given that he might have... changed... while not even at Prima's temple, she could at least give him that much.

Somewhere to run to, to at least ease that trapped, lost expression. She feels like going and hiding herself, a little.

If anything, his expression turns agonized at the touch. He wanted nothing more than to seek solace from her familiar presence. But it wasn't his Elita, and everything just suddenly seemed so wrong.

"I...yes? Vaguely? That is...where I woke up."

Where he woke up, oblivious that the people he knew in this strange new world were not his own. It is a terrifying realization. But the reminder helped; even if he didn't exactly recall the location he had only spent a small amount of time when first awoken, it was an option.

"I should just. Go."

He took a step back, but not far enough to pull completely out of her grasp. He didn't want this to be real.

"There, yes." She nods in confirmation and then just shakes her helm slowly, managing to keep her own expression collected at the naked and open agony.

There's nothing she can do about that, after all. She can't be who she isn't, unless she suddenly got a spark and memory transplant or something, and really, that wouldn't be much better.

"Thank you for the help." She holds still long enough when he draws back for the simple pressure of the weight of her arm to be felt through the loose touch before she backs away, briefly touching the center of her chestplates with a few fingers, underneath which her spark chamber is.

Then she turns around and starts to walk down the corridor, hoping that he does not need the help to find somewhere to leave to, and if he does, he'll either ask her... or hopefully have someone else to ask.

I don't rememeber myself, but I still remember you [Closed]

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CYBERTRONIAN FIRST-AID KIT ;D

YES GOOD

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Do we want to handwave the medic part itself?

Indeed we shall~

Gooood

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...dear god these unending threads of ours >>

P: yep

My fault completely, forever :x

<3

;3; <3

;A;