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Difference between revisions of "2016-07-20 Rub A Dub"

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(Created page with "{{Log |logtitle=2016-07-20 Rub A Dub |logdate=2016/07/20 |location=Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths |participants=Skids, Slugfest, Inferno, |summary=A quiet interlude in t...")
 
 
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|location=Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths
 
|location=Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths
 
|participants=Skids, Slugfest, Inferno,
 
|participants=Skids, Slugfest, Inferno,
|summary=A quiet interlude in the oil baths.
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|summary=A quick, quiet interlude in the oil baths.
 
|roomdesc=Some entirely unnecessary fabric half-curtains hang across the entrance with a swirl of some strange foreign characters painted onto the fabric.
 
|roomdesc=Some entirely unnecessary fabric half-curtains hang across the entrance with a swirl of some strange foreign characters painted onto the fabric.
  
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The tiny stego is a little metal ragdoll in Inferno's hands, practically napping in the comfort of the oil and massage. The tiny stego hasn't felt this comfortable in ages. His optics are powered down, indicating napping contentment.
 
The tiny stego is a little metal ragdoll in Inferno's hands, practically napping in the comfort of the oil and massage. The tiny stego hasn't felt this comfortable in ages. His optics are powered down, indicating napping contentment.
  
Inferno has the stego tucked against him now, his digits even softer and more careful than before. He's hoping to keep Slugfest from locking up again, while simultaneously letting the cassette nap. As he works, he listens to Skids, helm tiltings and wing-kibble shifting in interest. "I've never really played any games," he admits, though not with any indication of shame. He just hasn't. "That'd be real nice, to check some a that out. You can show me the good stuff, heh!" 'Ferno relaxes a bit further into the oil until only his wing-kibble and helm are showing, servos still cradling the stego. He gives a gentle yawn, trying to bite it back, but...the oil is so comfortable. "Ping me whenever an' I'll come 'round, check that out." His optics are dimming themselves. This bath is so relaxing. It's not uncommon for him to doze here. "I'd love...ta try it..."
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Inferno has the stego tucked against him now, his digits even softer and more careful than before. He's hoping to keep Slugfest from locking up again, while simultaneously letting the cassette nap. As he works, he listens to Skids, helm tilting and wing-kibble shifting in interest. "I've never really played any games," he admits, though not with any indication of shame. He just hasn't. "That'd be real nice, to check some a that out. You can show me the good stuff, heh!" 'Ferno relaxes a bit further into the oil until only his wing-kibble and helm are showing, servos still cradling the stego. He gives a gentle yawn, trying to bite it back, but...the oil is so comfortable. "Ping me whenever an' I'll come 'round, check that out." His optics are dimming themselves. This bath is so relaxing. It's not uncommon for him to doze here. "I'd love...ta try it..."
 
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{{Add Category|July 2016 Logs}}
 
{{Add Category|July 2016 Logs}}

Latest revision as of 20:14, 20 July 2016

2016-07-20 Rub A Dub
Date 2016/07/20
Location Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths
Participants Skids, Slugfest, Inferno
Summary A quick, quiet interlude in the oil baths.

Some entirely unnecessary fabric half-curtains hang across the entrance with a swirl of some strange foreign characters painted onto the fabric.

The air is warm and rich with a bouquet of scents. Near the entry, the sharp, bright scent of soaps and cleaners is strongest near the the racks of open showers; shower heads of adjustable heights allow bots from Minimus to Magnus to make use of the facility while benches and stools give space for the injured or wearied to slough off the mess from a fight. Beyond, a larger space is cordoned off into several sections.

There are a few small, deep baths, capable of holding one very large mech, or a couple of smaller mechs. Minerals and scents are racked on the wall nearby to be added to the smaller baths. By far the largest pool is a communal soaking pool, hot enough to sink deep past armoring into the struts while an icy plunge pool nearby is good for waking back up.

Sliding doors lead to the body shop next door where a clean frame can go for touch-ups.


He's not moving. Nope. Not gonna happen. Skids has discovered the Oil Baths. He's maybe been here before but that was before he finally found something that could regularly satistfy his learning complexes. Yes. Video games. Now instead of being overloaded and distracted by the need to feed them, or the associated thinking to do so...

Skids is doing, and thinking, nothing whatsoever. He's in the largest, communal, pool stretched out to the maximum allowances of his considerable frame. Ignorance, is indeed, utter, unchained and absoulte bliss. He doesn't realise it but he's grining inanely and an overjoyed sigh of relief happily leaves his vocaliser.

All is so very... VERY... good.

A tiny stego is coming in for a regular prescribed bath. His joints tend to seize up if he doesn't get into the hot oils regularly. He approaches the large communal bath that Skids is currently occupying, scurrying to the edge and dipping a toe in the oil while peering at Skids.

Inferno needs a bath. Well. He wants a bath. He was already here about two shifts ago, so in actuality he doesn't need one. But he does! He really does. Baths are life for firetrucks. They spend their whole time hosing down everyone else, they deserve to feel clean, no? The only drawback is that Deluge is too busy to join him, and so when 'Ferno enters the oil baths it's on his own. This is probably in his best interest, considering he's been trying to branch out from isolating himself and sticking to the one or two close friends he has on the ship. It's time to get out and about, in a much wider sense.

The largest bath is always Inferno's go to, considering how big he is. About Cyclonus height, and that's quite tall, so he needs leg room. As he crosses to said pool, he notes there is someone else already there. Oh, it's Skids. He's seen the mech around, knows his name, though they've never really talked. "Mind if I join you?" he asks, crouching at the edge of the pool. It's communal, sure, but you never know. He could find somewhere else to bathe.

The appearance of the small stego has Inferno's smile shifting. "Hey, Slugfest. How're ya doin'?" He knows a lot of bot's names, despite being a shut-in for so long. Looks like he pays attention.

Skids looks up. It takes a moment for his optics and audio to come back online and another for him to remember what they do. "Sure. Not a problem at all. Inferno, right?" Skids seems happier still at his slow fuzzy recall, "Skids, good to see you, come on in." Skids doesn't take up too much of the large pool so he doesn't see the need to tense up or fidget about. He does see why so many people spend downtime here. He can feel servos being soothed he didn't even know he had. The... everything, really, is just perfect. Skids looks over to the cassetticon testing the pool and notes, "Not too hot, not too cold. It's just right."

Slugfest yays and slips into the oil, stego-paddling around in the oil to loosen up his sometimes-stiff leg joints, his tail swishing behind him to propel him a bit. "Am doing ok," he says to Inferno, peering up at the big fire-engine-red mech. "Need regular baths to keep joints from seizing up!"

"Yeah, Inferno, that's me." The firetruck keeps up his smile as he slips over the edge and into the pool, giving a soft exvent of pleasure as the warm oil slides over his frame. This particular pool is deep enough that he can sink quite far beneath the surface, wing-kibble quavering in happiness. His optics dim while he relaxes. Yes. There's nothing better than this.

'Ferno does come back to attentiveness when Slugfest states his reason for being here. "You need any help?" he asks, helm tilted in sincere concern. "Any loosenin' of your joints? I know sometimes I need a good rub to the ol' armor, helps keep me limber." There's a glance Skids' way that conveys the message that, yeah, this extends to you too.

After a while Skids hauls his arms abover the surface and lays them, outstreched, in alignment with the pools edge. For now he'll stay focused in this place and time as, well, too much of a good thing and all, but it's great to know he can now, finally, switch off and relax for the first time... since he can remember. "So, Inferno, where is it you're working out of these days?" Skids says trying to start a conversation while Inferno tends to Slugfests stiff joints.

"Yes, please," Slugfest says to Inferno. Tiny stego front legs can't rubrub stego hind legs! He paddles over to the edge closest to Inferno so the big mech can help loosen his joints.

Inferno is happy to wait for the stego to come closer, not wanting to intrude upon Slugfest's personal space until the cassette enters his own. Once Slugfest is close enough, 'Ferno gently reaches beneath the oil to softly knead his digits into the stiff joints of the stego's legs. There seems to be quite a bit of tension there, and he's happy to assist. To Skids he replies, "Security, same as ever. There's been some, uh, rough spots, recently. Not too bad but, yanno. Enough ta keep a mech busy." 'Rough spots' being his own actions and then all these altercations with Cliffjumper. Inferno feels for the mini; Cliff is aggressive, yeah. It's still unusual for him to go on random rampages. "What've you been up to?"

"Apart from the usual in Nav you mean?" Skids starts, "That's just look at numbers, do math, type other numbers into the thing, rinse, repeat." He chuckles, before he used to fing the data interpretation boring, a lack of a challenge, now? He finds it kinda soothing. Not as good as the bath here, relaxation in a liquid form, but, maybe good work's just good for the silicon soul.

"I've been getting into being a major net warrior. You play games much? You should try it sometime if you don't. There's something that's fun for anyone out there."

Slugfest yays as his legs and joints are rubbed, and the little stego relaxes as the tension in his joints is rubbed away in the hot oil. Hot oils make tiny robo stegos drowsy!

Inferno keeps up his careful ministrations on Slugfest's joints, working his way up from the small little feets to where the limbs join the rest of Slugfest's frame. This bot clearly needs it. Even as he rubs, 'Ferno looks toward Skids, all gentle smiles. "Heh, well, I can see how that'd get boring." As much as 'Ferno doesn't want bad things to happen on the ship, he's a glutton for adventure.

Net...warrior? Inferno isn't sure what that means. He shakes his helm, expression turning curiously thoughtful. "Nah, not really. I wouldn't mind tryin', though, if you got anything in mind that I might like."

Skids thinks carefully for a moment. "Depends really. I mean everyone likes different things. Like I only really got into online games when I built my gear. So instead of button mashing I could really feel it. If I had to lift something heavy, it puts the actual resistance into the gear and I need to really work my body to do it. Fighting games are great for it. FPS's too as you're holding the gun like you really would if you were doing it for real." Thinking some more Skids adds, "There's other stuff, puzzle games, sandbox stuff where you can create things, card games... all sorts really. Stop by my place or the common rooms and we can check a few different things out. See what does it best for you."

The tiny stego is a little metal ragdoll in Inferno's hands, practically napping in the comfort of the oil and massage. The tiny stego hasn't felt this comfortable in ages. His optics are powered down, indicating napping contentment.

Inferno has the stego tucked against him now, his digits even softer and more careful than before. He's hoping to keep Slugfest from locking up again, while simultaneously letting the cassette nap. As he works, he listens to Skids, helm tilting and wing-kibble shifting in interest. "I've never really played any games," he admits, though not with any indication of shame. He just hasn't. "That'd be real nice, to check some a that out. You can show me the good stuff, heh!" 'Ferno relaxes a bit further into the oil until only his wing-kibble and helm are showing, servos still cradling the stego. He gives a gentle yawn, trying to bite it back, but...the oil is so comfortable. "Ping me whenever an' I'll come 'round, check that out." His optics are dimming themselves. This bath is so relaxing. It's not uncommon for him to doze here. "I'd love...ta try it..."

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