2017-02-15 Horsing Around
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2017-02-15 Horsing Around|
|Plot||A Midventure Night Dream|
|Summary||Roughshod experiences the downside to Lackluster's shot and Deluge gets caught in the crosshairs.|
Roughshod is beginning to regret volunteering in the name of medicine. He'd been making the rounds with today's partner, Deluge, a mech he'd only exchanged a few friendly words with. Their patrol has led them to the spacious, chill community room, and it's there that the 'con begins to look a tad sick, pausing to brace a hand against the nearest wall. "Hold up," he mumbles.
Deluge will admit that he hasn't gotten to know Roughshod too much, but now that he's back and they're on patrol together he might as well make use of their time together. Things were going just fine until they made it to the main area of the community room, the bigger mech continuing on for a few steps before Roughshod's voice catches him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he raises a brow at the ill looking beastformer and turns around to come back. "Y'alright there, mech? Lookin' a bit green there." A hand reaches out to a shoulder in support, his mouth downturning in a worried frown.
"Feel like I'ma' purge," Roughshod manages, his white optics dipping into a grayish blue hue. "Slaggin' Lackluster. He didn't say nothin' about this!" He did though. "Just gimme' a sec." Taking Deluge's shoulder, he shuffles over to a bench and slumps there for a moment. "S'what I get for goin' after easy cash."
Deluge can't stop himself from rolling his optics when Lackluster is mentioned. "Tch, probably why he's called that. Heard about his little offer. Exactly why I didn't go for it." Roughshod on his shoulder, he stoops and holds one side of his chest, helping guide him along. Once his coworker is seated and not about to drop, Deluge stands beside him, a finger hovering near his audial unit. "Heh, hope he paid yah decent. Y'need me to call medical?"
Roughshod doesn't answer for a concerningly lengthy moment. "No," he finally gruffs, staring at the pristine floor. "I'm good. It's going away." His optics clear a bit as they swim up to Deluge's face. His suddenly charming face. Was it always this charming? Those strange little horns of his. His bulky build - that dark armor! Roughshod bolts upright, alarmed, optics wide. He looks around and fans himself a little. "Are you uh. Are you with someone?" he asks, having zero idea why.
Deluge lowers his hand and nods. "Alright. Take your time, though. Trust me, today's gonna be boring, so we can hang a bit if you need." He's tempted to light up a cygar as he waits, hating to hang around doing nothing. A hand itches at a chest panel, urging to grab one, but he's thoroughly distracted when Roughshod all of a sudden jumps up and stares at him.
Deluge himself startles a little, torso pivoting and one pede shifting back slightly. "Er.. S'cuse me..?" He stares back, confusion crawling across his face as silver gaze overlooks the horse. "Uh.. Yes? Kinda? He's not really.. on the ship. ..Why?"
Roughshod will not be deterred. He almost looks angry at his own surge of feelings. He hadn't felt like this since... joining the 'cons. "You - I have to - ...Oh my stars." Roughshod drags his hands over his face, then reaches for Deluge's, squeezing tight if he can catch them. "You're stunnin'! I-I dunno' why I didn't notice before. Slag! I gotta' have ya' for myself!"
Deluge has been hit on plenty, and vice versa, but he's quite taken aback by Roughshod's sudden.. passion. And hell, just the fact he's all over him in general. He leans back some and raises hands, palms out, in minor defense. "Uhm.. Look, mech, this is flatterin' and all, but.. Slag, I barely know yah, I--Er.."
His larger hands are taken, earning a reflexive step back to try and ease away from he love-crazed Con. His nose wrinkling a little, Deluge snorts, "Oi, ponyboy, you sure you're feelin' alright? I think that shot might've made you screwy. Look, let's.. get yah to medibay, kay?"
Roughshod has a brief flash of sanity, and almost nods in agreement, before shaking his head 'no' fervently. Even that damn nickname that Starstruck gave him doesn't bother him now. "Ain't nothin' wrong, I just-" He follows as Deluge leans back, his smile widening, optics dazzled. He basically sucks at this. "Give a 'con a chance yeah? I'll be real sweet, see? Letcha' ride around whenever ya' want! Have I mentioned I love firemechs?" No, Rough, you like jets!
Deluge gives a instinctive glance around to make sure no one is watching this fiasco that is Roughshod's dwindling sanity. It's fun to toy with the idea that this is real, but he swears he can feel the heat coming off the horse from here. Something is way off. "Listen, Rough.." Against his better judgement, Deluge steps back in, overshadowing Roughshod with his burly frame as he bend down closer.
Brows loft, his helm giving a weary tilt and voice a hint quieter just in case someone's around. "Temptin' as it is to put the spurs to yah, I've already got someone and I bet fifty shanix your processor's scramblin' from whatever Lackluster jabbed yah with. We're goin' to medibay, and I'm not gonna lead yah."
He's gonna carry him. Cue a thick arm curling around Rough's stout middle, Deluge hoisting him up over a broad shoulder.
"Who?! He on this ship?" Roughshod's lovestruck expression turns fierce, but the thought quickly fades when the big firetruck hoists him up with ease. There's a pair of mechs not too far away watching, smirking, as Roughshod thrashes over Deluge's shoulder, aft in the air. He seems torn over the delight of being held, and being dragged off to the medibay. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" he insists, drawl absent. "Del! Hang on! I'll be good!" He clings to one of the big firetruck tires on Deluge's back. "Slag yer a beaut," he mumbles dazedly, finally giving up. "Tote me 'round ferever."
At least Roughshod gets a view of Deluge's backside, so that's a plus? "Don'tcha worry 'bout who. I'll tell yah when you're head's on straight." As for the two across the way, they get a steely glare from the brute, standing at his full height now. "You mech get lost or I just might find an excuse to throw your afts in the brig."
As for his cargo, he smirks as the mech starts to give up, an amused hum leaving him. "S'more like it. Don't worry, Rough. Be good and maybe I'll rub those cute lil ears a' yours." He knows the Con is loopy, but might as well have some fun with it. Besides, it'll be great teasing him once he's back to his grumpy self.