2017-02-21 (Not) Sorry
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2017-02-21 (Not) Sorry|
|Location||Lost Light - Habsuites - Common Lounge|
|Plot||A Midventure Night Dream|
|Summary||Gyro is totally sincere in his apology. Totally.|
This spacious, rectangular room serves as the hub for four habsuite hallways that branch off from it on either side. Tinted blue with warm lighting, it's quiet and cozy during most shifts and invariably bustling with activity in the off hours. When the large videopane isn't buzzing with movies, it's being used for what must be aggressive gaming, evinced by the various controller-shaped dents in the wall nearby. A veritable tangle of game consoles flank the shelving unit, some Terran, some Cybertronian, some truly alien - all modded for mechs.
L-shaped couches circle a simple table in a pisces layout. Off to the side are a few more tables and chairs beside an energon dispenser and an over-priced vending machine.
After the incident, Gyro had put himself right to work trying to figure out what is going on. Lackluster had heard an earful from Gyro, but after tireless work the former mortician finally has his answer. Just as he suspected, whatever he had been feeling that day had been spurred on by issues outside of his control. Still, the mortician has come out of it with some lingering questions. The resentment he has been feeling towards Motherboard's continued abscence has been stoked to a whole new level by everything.
And now he realizes something important. Much of fury towards Fritz over the incident was masked frustration at Motherboard for putting him in this position in the first place. The mortician cannot find it in himself to rekindle the anger he felt towards Fritz. Instead, he only feels exhausted and hollowed out.
It is partially this revelation that goads Gyro into seeking Fritz out one last time in the common lounge. Gyro approaches with a quiet click, click, click.
<FS3> Fritz rolls Hacking: Great Success. (8 6 4 6 7 8 7 1 3)
Fritz has been feeling much better after his time in Swerve's talking with Fortress Maximus, enough so that he hasn't holed up in his room again and actually gone out in the halls of the ship during his off time. Which is why he's in the common lounge now, sitting on one of the couches, legs swinging idly as they dangle above the floor, all four hands occupied with a handheld gaming device he's currently fiddling with. He's never been much of a gamer, really, but one of the mechs he'd met during a delivery - a very chatty Decepticon named Starstruck - had given him this. "I feel like every time I see you around you're working; all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" Fritz had had no idea what that meant. "Why don't you try this? You might like it!" And Fritz had, and it was okay and all, but...it seemed like it could use some improvements.
So far, Fritz has managed to get into the game's software using a variety of tools and a special datapad he keeps, all set neatly on the couch beside him. The gameplay is much more interesting with the modifications he's put in, but he still thinks he can do better. He hums tunelessly as he works, unaware of the approaching danger, his preoccupation enough that he doesn't notice the clicking of Gyro's pedes as the mech comes over to him.
Gyro looms behind Fritz as he works. At first the mortician is hesitant about interrupting him; it would be so easy to just walk away and forget all about this. Still, that little niggling feeling of guilt is still trailing him. Not used to the feeling, Gyro is willing to do anything to squash it. He'd prefer to return to his simpler existence. Finally, the mortician reaches out and tries to tap Fritz on the shoulder armor. He clears his vocoder in an attempt to attract the mecha's attention.
<FS3> Fritz rolls Reaction+reaction: Great Success. (8 7 4 8 1 1 5 7)
One would think Fritz had learned over time, considering his inability to handle most situations, not to get too absorbed in a project while in public. It seemed they thought wrong, because the tap and the clearing of a vocalizer so close to him startles Fritz very badly out of his work, his own vocalizer letting loose a high pitched squeal as he jumps, throwing the handheld gaming device up in the air. Thankfully (and unnecessarily) Fritz uses all four hands to catch it on the way back down, saving it from what would likely have been a quick death by smashing on the floor of the lounge.
Clutching the device securely against him, Fritz looks up at who interrupted him - and immediately wishes he hadn't. "G-G-Gyro!" he squeaks, trying to shuffle away as subtly as possible. "Um. Hi! How are y-you feeling?"
Gyro may be feeling guilty, but there is also a part of him that puffs up at Fritz's reaction. He loves seeing mecha cower and scurry in his wake; he has to remind himself that he's here for another reason entirely. It should not take long at all.... The mortician waves the frightened mecha down with a flick of his wrist, and then lifts a digit to his visor to hint that Fritz should hush up.
The mortician reaches into his subspace and begins to pull something out.
Fritz is certainly cowering, hunching up and shuddering, the gaming device held almost like a shield. Surely Gyro wouldn't shoot him in the middle of the lounge, would he? Even with their last two disastrous encounters? Fritz doesn't think so...Gyro doesn't seem the type, a-and that would be ridiculous...but Fritz has heard stories of other things that have happened aboard this ship, fights breaking out, mechs getting set on fire, optics being bitten out...Cowering may be an understatement at this point; Fritz looks like he's trying to force his frame to implode on itself and disappear from this plane of existence. Yet through all the suspense of waiting to see what Gyro is extracting, Fritz follows the directions anyway, and stays silent, the only sound his clattering plating as he trembles.
Unceremoniously, Gyro pulls out a small stress ball that he grabbed from medical's stores. This mecha sure seems like the kind that could use it, anyways. He tosses it once between his hands, continuing to watch Fritz with a blank expression. A moment later he drops the thing in Fritz's lap. There, his payment for Fritz's act of good will is done. This also counts as an apology, too, right? Is this how apologies work? Well, it does not really matter. It works for Gyro's purposes. Gyro gestures between Fritz and the ball to make it clear that it is for him.
Okay he breaks his silence with another squeak when the ball is dropped into his lap. Fritz stares at the stress ball like it's a grenade that will explode and make him a mess of tiny scattered pieces all over the common lounge at any second, and when this, obviously, does not happen, he looks back up at Gyro. He sees the gestures. He looks at the stress ball again, then at Gyro, then back at the stress ball. With one hesitant hand, he picks it up and gives it a testing squeeze. Then his wide optics return to Gyro, as he asks, "Why?"
Gyro is not a fan of dumb questions. Fritz looks like he's about to die just because of a stress ball; it should be obvious why he needs it. But the mortician fights back the urge to sass. Now is not the time or place. Maybe next time they meet, once this is all behind them. Instead, he settles for a one-word explanation. Lifting his hands, Gyro spells out a word: 'Payment.'
If Gyro is feeling honest to himself, all of this is more to make himself feel better than to make Fritz feel so. But Gyro is going to keep lying to himself and pretend he's making an honest and forthcoming gesture. That way he can forget all of this. He's ready to forget.
It's not the stress ball, Gyro, and you know it - you could've given the boy a rose made of gold and he'd have looked at it the same way, just because of the source of the gift. Fritz isn't confused this time, at least, as to what Gyro is referring to, and he gives the ball another squeeze. "My sphere's better," he says without thinking, then makes a choked gulping noise in horror at his cheek. Usually he's not like that unless he's been drinking, and heavily. "U-Um! Thank you!" The ball is hastily stored in his subspace, before he fidgets, optics darting away from Gyro, and asks another 'dumb' question: "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"
Thankfully, Gyro is not trying to be better. He's just trying to pat his own back. But as far as back patting goes, he only has so much patience for that, too. The mortician tilts his head to the side when he hears Fritz's second question and decides he has had quite enough. His point is made and there is no purpose to lingering on it. Waving his hand dismissively, Gyro turns on his heel and begins to stride away.
Well that's not an answer at all. Honestly rather grateful for Gyro taking his leave, Fritz watches him go for a moment before shifting forward again on the couch. His grip finally loosens on the handheld device, and it's only because he's not a particularly strong mech that the surface hasn't been dented by his digits, with how tightly he'd been holding it. Inside his subspace, the stress ball feels like a small weight. Well it was the...thought...that counts...? Whatever thought that might have been. Glancing at his tools, Fritz gives it a few moments, to make sure Gyro's totally gone, before packing up and sliding off the couch. He wasn't feeling very into being around mechs anymore.