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2016-05-24 Errantry

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Errantry
Date 2016/05/24
Location Lost Light: Engineering -- Machine Shop
Participants Getaway, Gearstrip
Summary Getaway comes to ask Gearstrip for a favor. She asks him for one too. You could say they are exchanging favors.

Getaway is here early.

He has cause to be here, though it's not for a while that he's to be expected. Daily he meets Gearstrip following her shift to walk her back to her habsuite. Sometimes she has to stay late and he waits for her, but today he is here before he normally shows up. Poking in, he asks around to see where Gearstrip might be found. Wherever that is, if she's not alone, he waits until she is to approach her.

"Hey Sparkplug. Busy day? When isn't though, right?" Does he seem nervous? He thinks he sounds nervous.

Gearstrip is flat on her back on the floor when Getaway comes in, working on fixing a dolly with somebody's wrench she had to borrow. It's too big for her hand and she keeps fumbling it. "Ugh! Scrap!" she announces. She lets the wrench clatter to the floor and rolls over out from under the dolly until her head comes to a stop right next to his foot. Upside-down on the floor, she smiles up at him through her goggles. "Oof," she says, and then wiggles her fingers in a little wave up at him before she spreads her arms flat on the floor. This is completely undignified.

Getaway thinks about how to best deal with this.

There’s only one thing to do.

Getaway gets down, lowering himself to the floor. He too gets on his back, the same way she is. He has no dolly under him, and hey, this floor is really dirty and greasy but... she's worth it.

The mismatched wrench is not missed by him. "I think you shrunk," he has to chuckle. "Even smaller and cuter than before, I guess? You buried under that much work, huh?"

"I'm pretty sure I didn't shrink. You don't look any bigger than me than usual. Although hey! I can actually see you from here." Lying down on the floor, their height differential is easily resolved. She scoots on her back, wheels wriggling against the (greasy) floor, and then rolls onto her side, propping her head on her fist as she surveys him from right beside his head. Gearstrip lifts her other hand to shove her goggles back up onto her head, and she turns a somehow brighter smile on him as she breathes a laugh. "Hi, Getaway. I'm not any more buried than usual. You're early! You must have missed me."

... like some kind of little pinup painted on a Terran plane.... a small plane. A glider maybe.

"Hrm? What? Oh, well, yes</ii>, I mean, I always miss you. You're a breath of fresh air in this place. You clear my head, you know that? Make it easier to think about... well, yeah. Point is I did, but that's not the only reason." Getty lays there on his back. He fidgets with his hands some, eventually gathering them together to hold atop his chest. He crosses his legs too because, hey, that's cool. "I... it's difficult and tricky but I need to ask you for something. Maybe. I don't know. I really don't want to but then I also do, so... bah." He huffs. "ILd rather talk about you though. Why you using tools that Metroplex'd have?"

Gearstrip bonks her forehead with her free hand, heel first, and groans. "Well, I lost my wrench. Okay, I didn't lose it, I know where it is. Actually, I've thought about asking you for help with it." Her mouth purses a little as she drops her hand to balance lightly on the thin strip of floor she's left between them, side by side. "Because I tried to zip in and take it back, but I just made her mad and she called me a thief! It's my wrench! But she's really, /really/ big."

She tucks her knees beneath her and sits up on them so that she can fling both of her arms to her full extension. "So big!"

That little hand will have a bigger one laid over it. Briefly. For a moment. But it happens. Along with a squeeze.

"I'll get it back for you." There, it's decided. Just like that, Getaway promises to get it from whoever stole it. 'So big' doesn't sound like it frightens him at all. "Generally, the bigger they are the easier they are to bypass. Don't worry, Strips. I'll get it for you. So, which one took it? she and big? Ah, Arcee?" He doesn't even sound too worried about dealing with someone as scary as Arcee. "Just give me a name and it's a done deal."

The moment of handholding is brief only because Gearstrip needs her hands to gesture with, to try and impress upon Getaway the size of the culprit. "Uhm," Gearstrip says, and tries to track back over that encounter to try and figure out if she got a name. "Waaay bigger than Arcee. Seriously, so big!" She widens her eyes in vehemence and rocks forward on her knees, gesturing animatedly. "She's the dragon. Uh, the dragonformer, I guess? In docks and storage? I don't know that I got a name but I've got a map cube of the storage rooms and I could show you which one. I was mostly thinking 'oh scrap I gotta get outta here!'" She kind of mimes panic with her free hand. "She called me a thief and a liar and a pixie?" She drops her hand to Getaway's shoulder, pressing some insistence of caution on him maybe by the pressure of her small hand in its fierce grip. She may be willing to dispatch him like a knight-errant on a dragon quest, but that doesn't mean she's not going to suggest caution. "She said she's not supposed to eat people but it was still really scary. She's /super big/. And loud. Boomy."

"Oh, Viviqueen. Pfft, she ain't nothing." Does he sound cocky? Because internally he's going 'oh scrap' about a billion times, over and over. The little hand on his shoulder calms him though, and Getty is thankful to have a face to give himself away. Hopefully Stripper was too lost in her tale to look in his eyes though. "They’re like that, the big ones. Loud and boomy, that's a good way to describe it. That's how Megatron was to me," he shivers. Her hand is on him, she can feel it. True terror shivers. "But that was just at first, you know? He's a bot like any of us, and this Viviqueen is too. Plus, this is great. It's cause for me to break out my diplomatic skills, which I haven't used in a long time" he chuckles. Surely he means diplomatic and not 'diplomatic'. Knights do slay dragons after all.

Gearstrip might not have looked into his eyes while she was telling her story, but her hand does detect the tremor through his frame, in the pressure of her fingers. She leans in close to his masked face, teeth set against the curve of her lower lip. "I thought for sure you'd be able to do it," she tells him earnestly. "I mean, I got in there without her noticing /me/, and I'm not nearly experienced as you are with that stuff. I just, uh, ... well, I didn't get <i>out of there without her noticing me, and then it was time to run away. I mean if it's between you and the wrench you definitely gotta get out of there. It's just a dumb wrench and I can get another but I can't get another Getaway. Okay?"

"Hey, what's my name? Trust me, if there's one thing I do well, it's to get away. Says so right in my name!" There's no denying that. He reaches up as she leans in, seeking to tap her 'nose' with a finger. "Bap." Beat. "Don't worry. I got this. I'll have your wrench back to you in no time. Besides, I don't gotta' sneak in there. I'll just march right in and demand to have it back. The good ol' front door approach." HIs eyes, if she looks now, sure are grinning.

"There *is* only one of me, which is something I tried to explain to our captain recently, but kind of failed. There's only one of you too, so I'm glad you got out of there. You said though she spotted you? Like she let you go?"

Gearstrip scrunches up her face a little as he baps her lightly on the nose. "Uh. Sort of. I don't think she chased me. Probably. I think she yelled at me to go? I basically flew out of there as fast as I could." Gearstrip slaps her hands together and kind of mimes a zoom with enough vigor that she nearly tips herself over. She should probably mime less. "She seems to think that all of that stuff is hers, but I know my wrench when I see it. I mean, it's a Camien wrench. I don't know." She puffs out her freckled cheeks and says: "Scrap."

Getaway happens to think that Gearstrip should mime more.

"I'll know it when I see it. But don't worry. It's not hers. It's yours. So I'll get it back for you. Make things the way they should be." Because, hey, he can and thus he will. It feels good to have a noble quest like this.

"Plus, you know what they say about big femmes like that? They ain't as compact and cute as the smaller ones," he winks. "Especially the small ones that get smaller by the day."

Gearstrip laughs aloud. "Getaway! I'm still the same size!" she says. "If I get much smaller, somebody would accidentally step on me." She pushes herself standing, and then, somewhat ridiculously, offers both her hands to Getaway like she's going to help him up.

It's not that she doesn't realize the laws of physics apply to her ...

"Oof, is there more grease than usual on this floor? I better stick a janitorial job in the maintenance queue ..." Gearstrip perks up with the advent of a solution to the problem that she has, in fact, created, as she adds, "Maybe we should hit the baths before you walk me home since you came early. Oh, hey, you said you might have something to ask me for?"

Getaway presents both his hands for the taking. She can help him up any time. She already lifts him up every time he sees her. He'll make a show of it, making her work for it, but up he'll get to his feet. "Thanks!"

"Hah! Yes, I should bath after... well, your floor is disgusting, but that's to be expected. You do a lot of hard work down here. But me and the baths have kind of a ... I am not sure I am in the mood to face Rodimus right now. Or Drift. Who knows, maybe they are in there together cuddling right now and just... ew, no." However. "getting to soak with you could be..." Well, clearly an idea he likes the thought of.

"Oh, that. I, er. Hrm. That is, I mean, that if... bah. Guh. Bah and guh, guh and bah." He looks down at her little face and... frowns. "I hate asking you for something like this but... I very much don't know who else to turn to. See, it's my nudge gun. I... I'd like it built and no one can help me to get it done."

Getaway should be able to, yes

Gearstrip squeezes Getaway's hands one more time once he's made it to his feet. It's a little ridiculous. She beams at him for humoring her. It was a good game. Settling her weight back on her heels, she says, "Do they cuddle? In the baths?" like she finds the idea vaguely fascinating and/or bewildering. "Huh. Well, I could scout out the area for you first to make sure it's clear, if you're worried about it!" Not that that would protect him from impending Drifts or Rodimi, but--

Gearstrip makes a low humming noise in her throat, tilting her head to the side. "Well, I build stuff," she says, "although I don't know what a nudge gun is."

"Oh, I just assume they cuddle everywhere. They're likely cuddling right now." That shover Getaway had for thinking of his first moments, seeing Megatron? He does it again to think of Rodimus and Drift...."Yeah, sure! Scouting would be great. I mean, the last time I was there I was nearly blown to bits so it's kind of got some memories. But hey, if I have someone as fierce as you there to protect me, maybe that won't happen. Again."

Reaching behind himself, Getaway draws out of a compartment on his back, at the waste, a device. A gun. One made of trash. And a datastick. "The schematics for it are there too. I tried to do it myself but... something ain't right. It won't work, not that I got ammo for it but still... a nudge gun is something made special for me, a gift from a friend 'long ago. It doesn't hurt anyone. What it does is fires a bullet that if it hits, it makes the target more likely to listen to a suggestion. Like 'surrender' or even 'forget why you're doing this terrible thing'. It's a way to end conflicts non-violently, kinda' like.... well, what I want to do. Stop being a weapon, you know?" Can she know?

"I will definitely protect you," Gearstrip says. She snaps off a salute. It doesn't look very soldierly. For one thing, she's grinning up at him like an idiot while she does it. "From cuddling officers. Hey, at least they're not trying to cuddle you, right? I mean, right? Are they trying to cuddle you--? Wait, what is that?"

She reaches up to take the gun he's tried to cobble together and the schematic. She balances the weight of the garbage-built weapon in one hand, testing it. "Hm," she says. "Well, I can definitely take a crack at it, Getaway, since you've got a schematic. I'm happy to help you. Specially happy to help you if you feel like it can help you stop -- feeling that way. How do you know when it works, though?"

Getaway is about to go into cold shivers thinking about Rodimus touching him again. More. He's already had more than enough of that today, thank you very much. "At ease, soldier, at ease," he chuckles as she excitedly examines something new. "Don't get too worked up over it. I built it out of trash. Literally!" when he relocated himself to the trash compactor. Well, he had to have something to do to occupy himself while he hung out with trash.

"Well, you know, without ammo I ain’t so sure. To be honest. But when I pull the trigger it should make a sound at least, but this don't. It just... doesn't react. See, the nudge gun's connected to me, builds off my suggestions, right? This, that," he points to the thing in her little hands, "I don't feel connected to."

He nods slowly. "I... thank you, Gearstrip. Havin' this again... it'd mean a lot to me. For a long time when I was out murderin' people, what that did to me... I had hope there would be a way to not *be* that. To have to resort to killin' to make the world safe. The nudge gun was my way out of a dark place. Maybe it can be again."

Gearstrip pockets the datastick. "I promise I'll get to work on figuring out the schematic as soon as I can. I think I can probably get better materials than, uh, garbage, but I'll keep this on my workstation for a model of what you tried to do. It might help." She moves to set his garbage gun with her toolkit, ordering a few things neatly around it with flicks of her fingers. "I mean, you know that if I can help you climb out of a dark place, I will," she says. "All thrusters go."

If only he had lips to smile with.

"You *do* already, Sparkplug. Without you... well, I'm glad you let me find you. But thank you. It'd mean a lot to me. It means a lot you're even willing to try." He then holds out his hand to her. "Can you steer that rocket to the baths? I do kind of need one," he chuckles, and besides, it is long overdue.

Gearstrip takes his hand. Of course, hers is a lot smaller than his. She turns and marches readily for the door of the machine shop, leaving work and mess behind so that she can go and scout out the baths and declare them safely cuddle free before they both enter. There might have been a time she was shy to hold his hand and drag him around behind her, but it appears to be a time that is past. "How'd I get to be sparkplug, anyways?" she asks him as they go.

"You're small and full of life. You get things started." The explanation comes easy for Getaway, as he's eager to share his reasons for it. He gets dragged, but he's also very eager for that too, and soon he's marching right along for bath time. "Because," Getaway says softer, "Without you, no matter how mighty the machine it's connected to, it loses meaning. It goes nowhere."

"Aw." Gearstrip looks a little flustered, but she can't argue that she didn't ask for it. She squeezes in the press of her hand on his. "Well. Let's hope I can get this bath started, if anything," she says lightly. "I mean, assuming nobody's cuddling in there before we get there."

And maybe, just maybe she'll be able to keep his bathtime free of command crew for once.

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