2015-12-19 Things That Lurk In The Ceiling
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Things That Lurk In The Ceiling|
|Location||Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths|
|Participants||Gearstrip, Punch, Quicksight, Slugfest|
|Summary||Oil baths are a great place to chat|
After a hard days travel what is better than a good, long, warmed soak?
The thick aroma of scented oils mingle at the entrance to this bath house and the air is warmed by the numerous private tubs that located here. The floors and walls are segmented into smaller tiles, optimal for gaining traction should any unwanted oil be dripped where it doesn't belong. The overhead lighting is slightly fogged by the cloud of sweet steam that blankets this soothing space, which is vented towards the heated steaming room just off the entrance.
Four walls score the bathhouse into segments, each of which corridor hold ten private rooms. Within each of these is a private tank for soaking and enough space for relaxing once finished.
A tiny stego wanders into the oil baths room, dirt caked in his chainsaw plates. He scampers over to a solvent shower to try to rid himself of the muck that is clogging the chainsaw!
Punch wanders into the baths. He's keeping as smart and casual as he can but he really needs a soak. Never having been in the baths before he has a quick look around to find a tub. Finding what he's looking for he heads for the nearest booth. Each step trying to hide the pain he's in.
This ship may be teeming to the brim with Autobots, but at least it has this. No, it's not like Quicksight minds a little dirt and grime, hardly! But its nice to clean up a bit once in a while, if the means are available, right? Not like he has much else to do right now. The fun stuff comes planet-side. Here, he's just stuck killing time. Even his quarters aren't much of an option, not with an Autobot for a roommate. So far, he's barely had a glimpse of the guy, carefully timing his recharge schedule to avoid him. Who'd want to be stuck in a small room with an Autobot?
...Who happens to be here too. Maybe he should leave? No, there's no avoiding Autobots out here anyways. Why let a single one get in the way of things, since he's already here? Still though. "Ugh" passing his roommate, the scout can only shake his head before turning to the nearest friendly face, or snout, as the case may be with the small Dinobot "Autobots"
Punch, soaking and finally experiencing some pain relief, forgets himself for a moment and says "Hmm? What? Actually, make that a whatever." Punch then sinks further into his personal berth. It's worth note that, although Punch has certainly been assigned quarters and, although he made himself an ex spy... Old habits die hard. He's not even been to his quarters so far and, if he can avoid it, he may continue that trend. It's bad to have somewhere where people know how to find you offlined and defenseless. Punch makes a few further noises of contentment as he further renews himself in the tub.
When Gearstrip marches into the oil baths, she looks like a complete mess. There's a shredded piece of air filter sticking to one of the heels on her back, there's a coating of dust dulling the bright blue of her paint, and somewhere, somehow, there's a splatter of faint scorch marks surrounding the splort of an adhesive with which she was plainly over-enthusiastic. Her goggles pushed back up onto her head, she steps inside the room, and for a moment on finding it occupied almost looks like she's about to turn around and march out again. "Oh. People."
"I know, right?" the tiny stego says to Quicksight, while standing under a continuous stream of cleansing shower. Dirt and gunk comes down off SLugfest's armor, having been dislodged from the chain mechanism under his back plates. He peers at Gearstrip. "Yes, people! Coming in?"
"Nah, we're all just a figment of your imagination" turning at the sound of such an observation, Quicksight looks over the newcomer "Question is, what are you? I don't see a badge. NAIL? Or are you with those whatstheienames -- Carmens? Cannons? Whatever they are. The bunch with the red jet."
Unsure as to who's in the room and what parts of the conversation are or aren't questions Punch goes with a simple first response of bringing his contribution of silence to events. Taking a moment to process it further he manages to reassemble some parts into a framework of sorts the he says, "Camien. A whasisname it something you use for... something else. I forget." To the other whoever-it-may-be Punch says, "Yes, there's a crowd. however I can recommend staying. It's certainly a weight off the systems."
"Camien." Gearstrip slips forward with her hands loosely twined before her, easing forward towards the visible tanks. "I'm Gearstrip. I'm in maintenance?" Why she makes of this a query is anyone's guess. "Hello," she adds.
Shifting position so he can add visual cues to the equation Punch takes in the lineup and identifies the hello. "Hello to you too. Rough day?" Punch asks after seeing the 'stresses of the day' as Punch'd put it.
"Caimen" Quicksight repeats to himself "Maybe you're not beyond hope. Quicksight, Decepticon, scout. I specialize in arial recon" he introduces himself, puffing his chest out a bit, arms crossed "You guys are still neutrals, right?"
Finally Slugfest is clean of all dirt in his chainsaw back plate workings, and he scampers to an oil bath and slowly goes down the steps and settles in with a contented sigh.
"I don't think it makes a lot of sense to take sides in a conflict that's supposed to be over already," Gearstrip says with a hint of doubt pinching the line of brow that marks her faceplate beneath her goggles. "If Windblade says we should I will," she adds earnestly. She sidles forward a few more paces to ease her way into a tank so that she can start scouring her slight frame and chasing away the vestiges of glue and dust. "You'd be amazed how much gunk gets into the environmental systems on this ship."
Upon Gearstrip's comment Punch says, "Very true. Although, thinking about it, even what I'm thinking of's bad enough. Thanks for taking on that monsterous task as I'm sure I'd have them clogged worse than they were to start with if I had a go." It's true. Punch may be well meaning but, when it comes to certain tasks, he's entirely useless.
Gearstrip's observation about the war being over recieves a soft scoff from Quicksight, but nothing more "Well then I hope she chooses wisely" he shifts a bit in his own bath, allowing himself to submerge in to the oil nearly up to his head. Its from this new position that he finally aknowledge Punch's participation in the conversation "Maybe you should still try. No one will notice the difference if you get stuck there"
Gearstrip smiles a slightly crooked smile. "I'm pretty sure we'd notice if one of you got stuck in the ducts," she says. "We need them for air processing and temperature control and oh, lots of things." She scrapes her wheel hard against the edge of the tank, trying to clear some of the schmutz that has attached to its rubber. "Anyway, don't worry, that's what I'm here for."
Slugfest peeks out of his oil bath to peer at Gearstrip. He stirs up the oil in his bath a little by swishing his tail, making waves.
"I don't wanna get lost in the ducts!" the little stego pipes up.
Punch closes his optics for a moment based on this new experience. Decontamination tubes and field facilities never could compare to this lap of luxury! Rejoining the world of vision Punch has to hold back an audible expression of how much better he feels already. A grin creeps on his face as he says, "Thanks again. Although please bear this in mind if I ever do get stuck in a duct or any other unfortunate scenario. I'll be perfectly fine. There is no need to transfer me to medical whatsoever. Under any circumstances." Quicksights comment was heard, barely, but didn't register. The ex-doublespy isn't interested in the slightest.
"Well, the smell would still be the same" Quicksight mutters, shifting a bit again as his current position turns out to be not as comfortable as he had hoped, before reasuring his fellow Decepticon "I don't mean you. And don't /you/ worry" he adds, glancing towards Punch "I would never do something like that." who is he to intrude on people's enjoyment of being stuck in the ducts, after all.
"What's wrong with medical?" Gearstrip tilts her head, mostly sunk in oil so that it's hard to see the rest of her. "I mean, it's easy not to get lost in the ducts -- just don't go in there unless you really need something."
"Sometimes there are noises in the ducts!" Slugfest says, "So sometimes I want to find out what's making the noise!"
Rising a little and trying to talk himself into staying longer for this unspeakably good soak Punch says, "Well, it's a long story, with a couple of hitches in it. What's at the core of it is for however many injuries I've got there's always someone who needs that care and attention more than me. If I really thought I needed assistance, yeah, I'll call it in."
"After so many years though I've had the bolts blown outta me enough to know whether to get a doc, a religion or just sit back and let the pain wash away. If I don't need it let someone else get fixed that bit quicker. It adds up." Leaving the depths of the warm, sweet, sweet, soothing liquid Punch flexes and stretches. That should be illegal. Even if it is Punch'd help Magnus write the ticket himself. Noting a soak is in the 'Yes. Do.' list Punch proceeds towards the door.
Really. If he knew about those things he'd have got his commission deactivated so many cycles ago.
"I just never get hit in the first place" Quicksight boasts from his bath "So I never even have a reason to need a medic. I can<i/> fight though" don't you underestimate him just because he's small, says the look with which he follows the departing Autobot, before the scout turns to his remaining companions, or rather, towards Slugfest "It's probably just the air, or garbage"
"Or it's me," Gearstrip pipes up cheerfully. "I spend a lot of times in there, when I'm on duty, or leastways it seems like it." She turns her gaze thoughtfully, watching Punch leave, and then shrugs herself back into the oil, wriggling her shoulders to work some of the liquid deeper into her seams.
Slugfest ohs quietly. Then he pipes up again. "What is garbage doing in the vents?"
Slugfest slides back all the way under the oil momentarily, swims about, then peeks up again.
Quicksight shrugs, not caring whether the other two can actually see this gesture behind the edges of the bath, and partially submerged in the oil "It got sucked up there, or someone threw it up there. Or some idiot got stuck up there, or" he lets an amused, faux-scary note enter in to his voice "It's a sparkeater, sneaking up on its prey!"
Slugfest squeals and ducks under the oil again!
"Ooh, spooky." Gearstrip hooks an arm against the side of the tank, tilting her head against it as she peers toward Quicksight's tank. Her voice lightly amused, she says: "Garbage seems a little more likely than sparkeaters, although I guess if I get eaten the next time I'm in there you'll know you were right."
Quicksight can't help but smirk at Slugfest's reaction "You know, it could be right above us right this very moment, sitting, waiting, deciding which one of us has the tastiest spark" he flashes his companions a wicked look before turning to look up at the celing above the stegobot's bath "You know, I think that panel over there looks a little loose, like something's sitting there"
Slugfest practically launches himself straight out of his oil bath straight into the air, landing in another oil bath! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"Yeek," Gearstrip flinches back from the flying dinobot with a startle. "What the--? He's just messing with you, you know!" Slugfest ohs quietly, peering at Gearstrip, whose oil bath he inadvertently leaped into. His tail sways a bit to keep his head above the oil's surface. "So there's no sparkeater up there?"
This time, Quicksight bursts out in to laughter at his fellow Decepticon's reaction. It takes him a couple moments to recover enough to be able to speak again, and even then, the amused look continues playing on his face "Well, not that <i>I know of, but you never know. Maybe there's a whole pack of them, hiding in the bowels of the ship, quietly picking us off, one by one"
"If there were I'm pretty sure I'd already be dead," Gearstrip tells Slugfest in her most reassuring tone. (Is this reassuring?)
If Slugfest had exterior ears, they'd be laid back at Quicksight's laughing. Instead, he slaps the oil in annoyance with his tail. He's slightly reassured by Gearstrip's tone. "I wonder if I can knock a sparkeater out with my tail before it can get me!"
"Well, one of them maybe" Quicksight nods, begining to climb out of the bath "Right before the rest eat you. Don't worry, there probably aren't any sparkeaters here" pausing to stretch a bit, he looks over the other two "I think I'll get going now, or I swear something's gonna slip out from all the oil" turning towards the door, he gives them a brief, lazy wave "Don't let the Sparkeaters get you!"
Is there such a thing as turning into the metallic equivalent of a prune if a mech is in oil too long? Slugfest is probably experiencing that now, so he gets out of the bath and dries off.