Ave Maria [OPEN]

[vandalization]

WHO: Karrie (VANDAL) and YOU!
WHERE: The Medbay; Solus Temple.
WHEN Sunday morning
WHAT: Vandal, awake and having broken her fever, is no longer in immediate danger of dying, so she decides to keep her hands busy.
WARNINGS: ... She's got a foul mouth when she's upset, but otherwise she's pretty tame. Also slight disturbing imagery.

DO YOU SWEAR TO FOLLOW THE TEACHINGS OF UNITOLOGY?

I DO.

DO YOU ACKNOWLEDGE ALTMAN FOR HIS SERVICES TO OUR CAUSE, AS OUR SHEPHERD INTO THE PATH OF ASCENSION?

I DO

WELCOME TO THE CHURCH, MISS NORTON, WE ARE HONORED TO HAVE YOU AMONGST OUR GATHERING, PRAISE BE TO ALTMAN FOR DELIVERING YOU UNTO OUR CHURCH. MAY THE MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER MARKER BLESS YOU, KARRIE NOW AND F O R E V . . .

Waking up in a hospital that's built for creatures far larger than yourself is jarring in and of it's own right. And Karrie is entirely impressed that she is waking up at all. Maybe this isn't a dream? She feels clear headed enough. And the pain tells her that she's very awake.

Can you have dreams inside of dreams? The desert... the white

She shakes her head, sliding off the small "bed" that had been made for her and fetching her Rig which was neatly laid out nearby. The wound at her side had been stitched. She could still feel broken ribs, though. Those would take time to heal, but this place is far too strange. Surreal... to be left unexplored. At least there's no necromorphs scuttling after her here. Not that she'd seen, anyways.

Nobody around. No robots. But signs of them. She slips out into open air outside, finishing gingerly putting her rig and helmet on. She may be safe now, but who the hell knows what's out here?

She won't stray far, rather balking at the idea of earning Ratchet's ire. Instead she wanders just as far as the edge of the junk pile, poking around for a while. Thinking.

She has to think. Despite not knowing what to even do with herself. She needs a focus. Needs to ask questions.

She begins gathering a few things here and there, and after about thirty minutes she's back in the med bay with a small bag full of what appears to be useless parts. Dumping them on the floor and sitting down like a kid with some brand new legos.

In an hour, the junk she'd picked up has been assembled into two box-like devices and set up on platforms at either corner of the room. And she's fiddling now with a smaller something- like TV remote, the holo-screen of her RIG floating in front of her, and the tools from her belt storage spread out around her amongst the left over, but neatly-sorted scraps of wire, batteries and little bits of tape that she'd scrounged up.

Comments

[winged_knight]

Ratchet had mentioned the need for some assistance in the medbay and as ever Wing was gratified to help. Even if he had little beyond typical field triage knowledge he could at least follow instruction, handle the more menial tasks and keep patients entertained during recovery.

One of the new arrivals was in recovery, and as ever, Wing was curious. He approaches the newcomer's spot on the floor, stopping a decent distance away, cognizant of his greater size and waiting to be invited nearer. If he can gain her attention, he'll offer a greeting.

"Hello. I see you're awake now."

[vandalization]

She must have been very invested in her work, because she didn't even notice him enter the room. Who knew a robot that huge could be so quiet. She jumps slightly, still unused to these... guys. Whatever they are. Cybertron guys or whatever. Yeah.

She pauses, about to answer and then decides to pull her helmet off first. No use in hiding her identity here at least. Everyone in the med bay has seen her face anyways.

"Uh. Yeah," She says, red hair sticking to her face as she sets her RIG helmet aside. Her voice vastly different from the modulator- well. Obviously, it's meant to make her sound male.

She looks him up and down blearily.

"You look like Drift." One of two or three robots that she actually knew the name of here.

[winged_knight]

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Wing smiles. "I came by to see if Ratchet needed a hand and thought I'd check in on his patients. It's good to see that you're recovering." At least he assumes so, given you're up and moving around.

"Drift? Yes I suppose I do." With the swords and white armor and all. Still, it's almost like that's the last thing he expects this woman to say. "We ah, I spent some time training him in martial combat." Yup, that totally explains it all. Okay, not really.

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

[vandalization]

She shakes her head.

"Kind if hard not to. Not used to you guys lumbering around. This... has been really weird, to be perfectly honest."

They don't know jack about her, and likewise.

"Makes sense you two would know each other. You guys don't look like any of the other ones I've seen. Your size, structure, frame builds..."

Not that she's seen many, but they seemed to have a similar build. Excuse her while she lapses into the more nitty gritty admiration that only an engineer could appreciate. She resists the urge to get up and start prodding around his ankles. That would probably be rude or something. Who knows.

"I'm... fine as I can be. I suppose company wouldn't be bad. Too quiet here."

And too loud inside her head.

[winged_knight]

"It's been a lot for all of us to adjust to. Even those of my kind."

Everyone had a lot to learn abut each other, the culture mix was more than eclectic at this point.

"I hail from an isolated colony world. Drift was rebuilt while he was with us." Allusions of a greater tale there, impossible to hide.

At her invitation, he moves nearer and takes a seat against the wall.

"I suppose that's the trouble with medibays, quiet is the norm but it does nothing for the restless." He tilts his head curiously. "What is it that you're working on.

[vandalization]

"Rebuilt? What happened to him exactly?" She hopes that's not too personal a question.

His question turns her attention back towards the equipment she had been fiddling with.

"What- this? Just something that I can play music through. Just to lighten up the place a bit."

[winged_knight]

"He was nearly killed by a band of slavers." Wing opts to leave out the other parts that don't do Drift much credit. "I carried him back to my city and our medics repaired him. The rebuild wasn't complete at that point, but later, when he joined us and opted to leave his old life behind we made it a complete conversion."

Wing shifts a bit so he can address her better, one wrist draped over an upraised knee.

"Music? That's wonderful! I love music myself, but it comes in so many forms. You have some of it with you I assume, from your home world?"

let me know if I need to change anything?

[sword_redemption]

There's that law of physics, right? Something about an equal and opposite reaction?

That clearly explains why Drift is sneaking back into the medbay, even knowing if Ratchet catches him, he's going to likely be stapled to a repair berth until such time as Ratchet feels he's learned his lesson.

...just short of forever, then.

So that's a 'can't happen'. But still, Drift has a duty. Or something. Maybe it's a deathwish.

Whatever it is, he sneaks along the back wall when he spots Vandal on the floor.

On the floor?

"You sure you shouldn't be on the repair berth?" Protectiveness sometimes sounds a lot like hypocrisy from Drift.

PERFECT

[vandalization]

Vandal's head jerks up slightly and she twists as best she can to turn around and see-

Oh. It's Drift. The guy who helped save her. She's never gonna get used to this whole giant robot thing. And while she's eliminated this being a dream, she's definitely still not entirely sure if she's dead or not.

"You mean in bed? Yeah," She says casually, "Shouldn't you too?"

Touche'. She'd heard Ratchet bark at him for it.

"So I won't tell if you won't."

She turns her back again, making some adjustments to whatever she was building and snapping a panel closed.

"Besides, you shouldn't interrupt someone who's working."

[sword_redemption]

....what? No. No, this isn't how it works. You don't go to visit the person you saved and get guilt trips. That's not how this is supposed to happen.

Is it?

"Er." Dammit. Wait. "But I wasn't bleeding to death." Take that! He was rusting, not really to death. Totally different.

He stiffens. "I'm not a snitch." His definition of honor runs, from time to time, straight into his issues with authority.

This is really, really not how this was supposed to go. Hi, how are you doing, you're looking much better...stuff like that. "What are you working on? ...instead of resting."

See what he did there? Little side order of guilt.

[vandalization]

"Uh-huh. Okay, buddy. Whatever you say." Her tone is incredulous through the voice filter, though she's more just giving him a hard time than anything else.

"Good to know. I knew you were cool." To be honest she's still in shock. Talking to a giant robot like he's just another person... how else is she supposed to talk to him? Everything still feels so hazy and unreal.

"What, this? Stereo system. This place is like a god damn morgue. Sure as hell beats laying in bed feeling like I'm already dead, right? Sick people need cheerful stuff. Music helps."

A beat.

"You uh, cybertronians like music at all? Or is that not something you guys do?"

[sword_redemption]

Why doesn't that sound like she means it?

"At least you're not being stared at by everyone."

Seriously. You want something to complain about? Try having the mech you totally don't have a stupid crush on staring at you while you bleed out.

And he's so not cool. If he were cool, he'd be winning this argument.

"Seems to me you just want something to do." That, at least, he can relate to. It was the staring at the ceiling that had gotten to him.

Drift has dropped down to one knee to look. "Uh. Maybe. Not sure." Before the war, there wasn't a lot down in the gutters. And after a few million years of war, there was just nothing left.

[vandalization]

"Yeah? You just that pretty or something?" He is pretty nice looking for a robot man thing, she figures. Maybe.

There's a brief pause and she sighs static into the voice modulator.

"Yeah maybe. Shit, one minute I'm dealing with fucking infestation on Titan Station and the next I'm suddenly surrounded by giant alien robots. Guess I just want something to feel normal. No offense."

She hauls herself to her feet with a grunt and a stumble, limping over to Drift and looking up at him.

"Not sure if you like music? Don't get out much, huh? S'okay. Here. Let's see what we've got. I need to test this out anyways. Mostly old sample music I have on my RIG but it'll have to do."

She begins fiddling with the small remote device, opening up a holoscreen that emits from her suit.

Abruptly, the speakers crackle to life, static screeching before the low, soft sounds of some classical piece come on. She fiddles more and it becomes clearer.

"Hmm. What do you think? Not your speed maybe? You seem like someone who would want lyrics. Now, mind you most of this music is really old. I didn't exactly come prepared. Just whatever I had on my personal disk, you know? Not that you... have a frame of reference I guess." She continues to scroll through the small VI listing.

NOW WITH THE RIGHT JOURNAL

[lifepersists]

First Aid had always been one to welcome some kind of adventure, but after the Red Rust plague and turning up on some sort of prehistoric version of Cybertron with temples and Acolytes and other mystical slag, he more than welcomed the familiar comfort of a medbay.

It's not really what he's used to-- alien engine replacements, injured organics --but the bustle of reforming routines was welcome.

With how busy he'd been between meeting with Pharma and then jumping right into assisting Ratchet with the surgery, he hadn't really gotten the chance to look at the mech's other patients. Surprise is just written all over his body when he strolls through the medbay and finds Vandal with a pile of junk.

"Oh!" He tries not to sound too surprised and fails. It's so... small. "What are you doing?"

LOL I WAS CONFUSED FOR A SECOND

[vandalization]

Vandal's head jerks and she turns to see who's come to check on her this time. She honestly expected Ratchet, so this is a pleasant surprise. She didn't feel like getting groused at, anyways.

"Oh. Hey- it's you. Uh. First Aid, right?"

She's in the middle of trying to do some minor adjustments to the small remote she's been cobbling together.

"What, this? I'm going to make this place more lively. Get some music. It feels like a morgue in here."

Right now, silence and being able to hear her own throughts is not what she needs right now. Everything is so much louder in her head, some white noise would do wonders.

sob i forgot i was logged into it

[lifepersists]

First Aid's not the biggest of mechs, at least, which made things a little less awkward. His interaction with alien species was... very minimal, to say the least though. At the moment, he's not entirely sure what to make of Vandal. He cants his head to the side, optics focusing on the remote.

"I thought humans were squishier."

He moves, settling to sit down next to her with a little bit of stiffness.

"Cybertronian medbays are usually pretty quiet. And dark."

[vandalization]

"Oh, this is just a suit. Wear it out of habit. It's good armor."

She unclasps her RIG helmet with a soft his and takes it off, hair sticking to her face and the bandages there.

"See?" She sounds vastly different without the voice filter. Well, obviously.

"Yeah. This place is depressing."

She clicks something on the remote and a blast of static jumps from the speakers she'd positioned at either side of the room. It eventually evens out and the music filters through. It's a very old song, but it sounds good.

[lifepersists]

Oh, primus. She's taking off her skin. He was witnessing some kind of horrible natural organic phenomena and-- oh. It's just a suit. Well, that makes him feel a little less panicked. First Aid places his hands on his knees.

"In most cases, we power down non-essential functions to help speed self repair and recovery. Light and sound are generally aren't all that needed for patients who can't see or hear."

He pauses, tilting his head as he listens to the music. It's very... alien sounding. He's not sure if he had any good comparison to it. Mainly, it just reminded him that he was dealing with a strange situation.

"Is song a big part of human culture?"

[vandalization]

"Doesn't sound really great to me. But then again. I'm not cybertronian."

She exhales something that sounds like it could be a laugh, running a gloved finger along the bandage on her cheek for lack of anything to do with her hands.

"For some people. It varies. Some people are really into art. I like music, but it's mostly for the noise."

[docbot]

Ratchet raises an eyebrow at Vandal when he finds her sitting in a mess of scrap and parts, but he doesn't actually sound angry... just a bit amused.

"That doesn't look a lot like resting."

[vandalization]

She turns, a little startled at first. She'd thought she would have gotten a massive chewing out, but well-

Pleasant surprise.

"Gotta do something with my hands," She mumbles, snapping a small plastic piece into place and turning the small device over in her hands.

[docbot]

She might have been chewed out if she were a Cybertronian, but Vandal is so small and squishy and she's not arguing with him about why she needs to leave the medbay Right Now so... he'll give her a chance before he starts screaming.

Plus, everyone knows that Ratchet saves his best screams for Wheeljack (and now Drift).

"Well don't pull any stitches while you do that. The initial ones were enough of a pain in my aft to place, what with your miniature scale."

Ratchet bends down, looking more closely at what she's working on.

"What are you creating?"

[vandalization]

"Yeah, I know. I'm careful."

Not really, but as long as he thinks so.

She's more than happy to change the subject, holding up the small remote and pointing at the speakers she'd repaired.

"Just like to fix things. You like music?"

She clicks one of the buttons, selecting something from the small VI screen on her RIG. The speakers crackle after a moment and then a song cuts through the static, filling the room.

"It was too quiet. Like a morgue in here."

[docbot]

"Hn." is all Ratchet is going to give. He's not quite sure he believes her.

"I understand that. I like fixing as well..."

When the first brassy tones of the horn filter through his medbay, his head tilts up, alert. Then he realizes what the noise is, and he relaxes a touch, still listening carefully. Human music is so much more organic than the sounds of Cybertron, so alien and analog and, well.

"It's beautiful."

Ratchet's head moves back and forth just a touch, swaying with the steady pulse of the beat.

"I... suppose we could do with a bit of this in here sometimes." He looks down, meets Vandal's eyes. "Although I'd like controls so that I can turn it off if necessary?"

[vandalization]

"So I see. You fixed me pretty nicely."

You can almost hear her smile from behind her helmet, which she shortly removes with a soft click, setting it aside.

"You like it, huh?"

Strange to watch him sway slightly like that. Very human. Startlingly so.

"No problem. I can control it from my RIG, too."

She turns the remote in her hand and tosses it up to him.