2016-06-19 Slippery When Wet
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2016-06-19 Slippery When Wet|
|Location||Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths|
|Summary||Gearstrip comes in for a soak and Vortex tries to impress the littlest Camien of them all. It all goes swimmingly.|
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.
Her first arrival in the baths characterized by a trailing glop of fire retardant chemicals and an unwieldy mix of sealant, paint thinner and a foul, stinking, astringent agent used to melt the sealant, Gearstrip beelined for the showers to scour every last trace of the awful gunk off of herself from the crown of her helm to the tips of her toes. Dripping water and a few trace suds that she failed to completely abolish from herself, she transforms into her alt mode, thrusts herself up into the air on a fresh whirring vrrrrrm of antigrav, and flips into a barrel roll through the air -- "Whoo!" she hoots as she does this -- that resolves at the last second into her root mode as she hits the surface of one of the warm heated communal pool, totally immersing herself in it.
Another boring shift at the Body Shop. Bots are definitely avoiding him. Come on, he's got a purple badge! There's gotta be some Decepticon that wants, like, new paint or a polish or teeth! Vortex has resigned himself to doing necessary duties in the wake of boredom as he carefully works out his damaged rotors. Like 'Loss Prevention Reports' and 'Inventory'. Yech. But this has allowed him to notice some... Interesting discrepancies. Dammit Torque. His helm ticks up as he hears someone using the shower. Company???
Vortex wanders to the Body Shop's doors, dragging a still twisted rotor as he peaks into the Oil Baths. He watches the display from the doorway, remaining rotors flicking. Oh, yes! Company! The perfect kind of company. The quiet, serene atmosphere is suddenly split by the clatter of rotor as he drops it to explode in applause. "Whoa! That was awesome! Ten outta ten, crowd goes wild!" Laughing, he scoops up the rotor to bounce on over to the Camien.
Gearstrip surfaces with a faint sputtering noise that resolves to a bright laugh, pealing free as she swims to the edge of the communal pool. She hauls herself partway up out of it, bracing the fold of her arms against the edge of the pool, and peers at the applauding hellcopter through goggles. Then she reaches up and peels the goggles back to plant firmly on the crown of her helm. "Thanks," she says. "Performance-ready, d'you think? -- Sorry, I didn't see that anybody was in here." She grins, wide and bright with humor. "I was just really excited not to be gross and filthy anymore."
"Most definitely," Vortex affirms with a nod of his helm, sticking the rotor into place once more. It brings a light tingle of pain that makes him float on over. "Hey, don't ever apologize for being awesome, Goggles. And that sure sounds like something to celebrate to me. Hey, while I'm up, want me to grab you any of these additives or perfumes?" He gestures to where the bottles sit, his tone one that could only come from a smiling face. "Heh, last I saw you, you were off to repair Getaway's clock! Did that work out for ya?"
"Clock. Clock. Oh, sure." Gearstrip waves a hand through the air. "That was an easy one! Whirl knows a lot about clocks, which was kind of neat." She lets her weight sink back into the pool, allowing the warm oil to soak into her back and shoulders and wheels. "I don't really need smelly stuff. I mean, if you want some, I don't mind." She tips her head to one side, eyes widening slightly, and then smiles. "That is, if you were coming in."
Vortex grins under his mask. "Well, I mean... If that's an open inventation... BETTER STAND BACK!" He takes a few staps back from where he's standing. Okay, more than a few. "You're about to see a one of a kind, genuine Vortex special!" He laughs and then takes off to the pool, rotors folding behind him.
<FS3> Vortex rolls Transportation: Failure. (1 5 5 1 4 3 5 2)
"Ooh," Gearstrip says. "I'm standing back!" When she watches him back up, she bites the curve of her lower lip with her teeth and kind of flattens herself against the side of the pool wall. She starts to laugh when he does even as he's in motion.
Of course, this is the oil baths, and a big rule with the oil baths is that you don't run in the oil baths. Why? Because its really fucking slippery. Vortex is fleet of foot and spry but he's not immune to the slick floor. And as luck would have it, he finds no purchase on one step. He makes an undignified squeak of a noise as his legs go out from under him and he falls flat on his face at the edge of the pool. He does what's referred to as a 'scorpion', paused like that with pedes over top of him... His momentum carries and, rather unceremoniously, he flops into the pool and sinks into the oil.
It takes a minute and his helm slowly rises over the surface to stare at Gearstrip. There's a dent in his faceplate. Nothing new. "They should really put up signs about running. That could kill a guy... Did it look a little cool?" Just a bit?
Gearstrip's laughter actually cuts off when he faceplants and she covers her face with both her hands so that when he flops and rolls the rest of the way into the liquid, she's peeking at him in an appalled way between the spread of her fingers. When he asks her if it looked cool, she opens her mouth behind her hands and closes it again. She gives a little squeak, and then resets her vocalizer in the clear of her throat. "Flames," she says, "are you okay?" She drifts away from the wall as she skims closer to him through the pool. "It looked kinda like it hurt is what! You weren't kidding that it was one of a kind, though."
Vortex perks and rises further. Yes, he is one of a kind, thank you! He's about to wave her off. Its a good kind of pain. Dull, with a touch of shooting down his spinal strut. It makes his rotors suddenly lifts from the oil to fan. But he doesn't. Instead he takes in a sharp breath as he leans again the edge of the pool. "It smarts... But I'm glad you were entertained. It's okay if you want to laugh, I'm sure I looked ridiculous- hah-ow!" He reaches up to rub his faceplate, a slight droop to his shoulders. Look at him with his owie. Isn't he pathetic? "Geez, there goes my attempt for an impression, right?"
"Aw!" Gearstrip, always a sucker for the pathetic -- just ask Getaway -- okay that was mean i'm sorry Getaway -- skims the rest of the way to the wall nearest Vortex and scrunches up her face as she peers up at him. "If you feel like you looked ridiculous, you should have seen me earlier! I was trying to fix the fire suppression systems in engineering and I got my foot caught in the roof vent over the spinny, so I decided to transform my way out but before I could fire my grav thrust I triggered the sprayer and it shot me clear across the room into the sealant-- anyway," she flaps her hands through the air and finishes, "Long story short, it was comedy gold?" She levers herself up on her elbow and gives Vortex a thumbs up: "I promise if anybody asks I'll tell them you got your face hurt doing something super awesome."
Vortex tilts his helm, rotors twittering. Heh... "Er, thanks..." He perks up, beaming down at the Camien. She's so small, look at her. And were those... Freckles? That's downright illegal levels of adorable. "And if anyone asks about you, I'll tell 'em you saved me from a fire with one servo tied behind your back. Very heroic, had me swooning and everything." He drops his servo, instead swirling the oil with it. It sure did feel good, mmm. "But hey, you're not really hurt are you?" He flicks some oil her way playfully.
"Nothing damaged but my dignity," Gearstrip agrees, cheerfully. "Which isn't really a necessary part. Benefits of just being a tech, and all." She hitches her shoulders against the edge of the pool and kicks out both pedes, stretching her legs out through the viscous heat of the oil. "I have no idea how I saved you from a fire, but I'm sure it was all in a day's work," she says with a laugh.
Vortex nods enthusiastically. "I bet it is! Tech you said? Primus, you bots run this ship! Or, at least make sure it keeps running, right? Saving me from a fire is probobaly not." He leans on the pool edge some more, watching her. "Wish I had a job like that. Got me stuck in combat. Do I look like a Combat mech to you?"
"I don't know," Gearstrip answers him with frank honesty, "what's a combat mech look like? As far as I can tell all you Cybertronians are all about fighting." She lifts a palm, smacks her fist hard against it, and then turns both her hands out, palms up, wiggling her fingers in a vague gesture as she gives Vortex a vaguely apologetic smile. "I mean, I can tell you what a non-combat looks like because that'd be me. I was in a fight a couple times but-- mostly just trying to stay alive so I could get away? I got a Rodimus star once for knocking off a guy's hat?"
Vortex chuckles. Ah, well... He can't really argue with that. "Oh, well... A whole hat? Damn, that sounds like a two star action at least!" He smiles at her under his mask. "But hey, don't let how I look decieve you. I was like you once. We all were... Got like this to stay alive, you know? Heard it wasn't easy on your colony but at least you still got that non-combat pluck. That's nice." He sounds sincere, like he means it. Even he's not sure if he means it or not.
"There's Camiens tougher than I am," Gearstrip assures him just in case there was doubt. "Like Chromia for example. But we lack the whole ... millions of years of conflict as a shaping influence, I guess." She frames an invisible world in her fingers in the air and then lets it drop, invisibly, into the oil, along with her servos. "What kind of job would you want? Like Getaway's, working as a bartender now?"
Vortex nods, following along. "Yeah, civil war that breaks your planet isn't the most common thing, heh... Though, it sorta was broken before we smoked it, ya know?" He rolls his shoulders, sinking into the oil a bit. Ahhhhh... "Yeah, heard about that. Good for him!" The bastard. "Heh, I just want a division change. To security. That was kinda my job in the war and I'd like to go back to it. Making sure you and everyone else stays nice and safe!" He reaches up and over to ruffle her helm at his last statement.
Gearstrip startles a little as he ruffles her oil-slick helm, but she doesn't so much flinch as laugh again, and then check the set of her goggles after the pass of his servo. "Oh, like Tailgate," she says. "I bet he's great to work for, he's a great guy." She tips her head. "He tries to be really fair about stuff. We found a stowaway in the machine shop the other day and the little guy was terrified, but he just helped him get to the medibay and worked out the justice part for later."
Vortex's visor bends slightly in interest. Stowaway? How interesting. "No kidding? Yeah, Tailgate is pretty great. I think he was going to let me change divisions." Maybe? Does it work like that? Who knows. "But, uh... I messed that up. I've been trying to make up for it and do other good things. Like- oh! I work the Body shop!" He gestures back to said Body Shop. "You should totally stop by! I'd love to give you a fresh coat of paint or polish. Ooooor... I specialize in mods! You could get one of those too." His rotors practically waggle, clearly enthusiastic about his work.
Gearstrip checks herself over, looking down her back and then down her front, and then back up at Vortex with a curious, quizzical tilt of her head. "What kind of mods?" she says. "I've never really done anything like that. I've always been sort of-- you know, comfortable just being me."
"Ah... Then maybe mods aren't for you? Guess that says a lot about, eh? I'm like a living mod, hehe... But hey, fresh paint and polish? Give ya a friend's discount." Vortex shutters his visor in a wink. See Torque, a discount. Not free, you bleeding-heart sod. The rotary then streeeeetches and braces his servos before lifting himself outta the pool to sit on the edge. His rotors all flick, oil slinging off to the sides. "Speaking of Body Shop, I should get back to my shift... But really! Stop by! Bring Getaway why don't ya? We can some fun time with paint!" He hasn't seen the bugger in a while. Like to poke and aggravate him again. Fun times. "What do you say, Goggles?"
"Sure, okay," Gearstrip says, dropping her shoulders in an easy shrug. She rolls her wheels back against the edge of the pool, tilting her head back. "I'll ask him about it when I see him later."
"Sounds good, you just let me know and stop by any time." Vortex stands, giving himself a shake not unlike what a dog or cat would do. "Well, you enjoy your soak- well deserved after saving me from that fire, right? Heh, I'll see ya later Goggles!" He waves to her brightly before heading back to the shop. He'll clean up the dripping oil later. It'll give him something to do.