2018-01-31 Cease and Desist

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Cease and Desist
Date 2018/01/31
Location Jail
Participants Hound, Soundwave
Summary Their latest mission sees them waiting for Rodimus, but for now, Hound and Soundwave are stuck waiting. In a cell. Together. They're not the happiest about this.

After the diplomatic disaster of the Quint-flavored clusterfuck that was Rodimus's loss of the Lost Light's captaincy, the fact that a member of the Galactic Council reached out to the Lost Light is a minor miracle. I mean, sure, it's one of the newer members, without the name recognition or reputation of some of the more established members of the Council, who entirely lack the political will or authority of galactic elders like the Quintessons, but--.

They want to know more.

It may be that they are biomechanical themselves that lends them some sympathy to the Cybertronians. Originally pure organics, they have been forced to take measures to deal with the rapid acidification of their biosphere.

So. An invitation, extended to Rodimus, as well as a Decepticon and Autobot representative, leads to Rodimus, Hound, and Soundwave being dispatched by Ignition with a caution that they will be watched.

It's incredibly unfortunate that immediately on arrival Rodimus was separated from the others to verify their bona fides and traveling papers, leaving Hound and Soundwave to stew in a holding cell pending the arrival of their galactic visa sponsor.

Tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap.

The sound of Hound's fingers agains the armor of his thigh echoes through the little cell that the two of them are practically folded into. Where he sits, back plating against the wall, Hound's optics bore into the wall, then the floor, any direction except the one Soundwave is in. In the time since the door closed, the tapping has only gotten more frequent, his shoulders more tense, his armor tighter against his frame. His claws make a sharp, staccato noise against his armor, as he takes another peek toward the door- his third in as many minutes. As soon as it becomes clear, again, that it isn't opening, he turns his helm away, making an aborted grab into his subspace for an artifact that isn't there-- left on his desk, somewhere, in the chaos of Prowl returning it and preparing for this mission. He's mentally kicking himself for forgetting it now.

Soundwave supposes he should be grateful that all that has happened to him within Galactic Council territory is being locked within a cell. And not shot dead on sight. But he finds, no matter how hard he tries, he is not.

Soundwave is standing stock still, seeming to stare indiscrimately at no where in particular. If he even is staring. Or even awake. Only the subtle but ever growing tension along his neck cables and shoulders are the only valid argument that he's awake. Until, at last, he moves. And speaks. "Desist," he says sharply, head snapping around to look down on Hound,

There's a moment where a rumble begins to build in Hound's chest, a rumble that nearly becomes a snarl as Hound jerks his own helm in Soundwave's direction and begins to bare his fangs. He catches himself just before it, then jerks his helm back around, until he's no longer staring at Soundwave and his creepy stillness. "Fine," he grumbles. The hand that was tapping curls into a fist at his side, claws tucked up against his palms. Then the other fist curls up as well.

The stillness doesn't last very long, though, before Hound is beginning to fidget again, his pedes shuffling against the floor, his armor panels tensing, then loosening, against his frame. He catches himself turning to look toward the door again, and looks back down toward the scuffed floor. "How much longer is it going to be?" he complains toward it. "It can't take that long if they invited us in the first place."

The armor along Soundwave's back bristles, the aggression like sandpaper along his audios. The panels don't settle until Hound falls to silence. He enjoys it... He only wishes it lasted longer.

With a heated his from his vents, Soundwave retruns to staring at nothing and being still. He doesn't even have to move to speak. "I do not know- I am unable to detect anything favorable. These walls, well insulated." He will admit as much. Their squar footage leaves much to be desired. "Senator Ratbat enjoyed deploying this tactic on erstwhile employees and cohorts. We need only wait, be patient Hound," he says, flat tone bordering along condenscending. Sit, boy. Heel. Be still like me.

"I am being patient," Hound says. "And what, you're able to detect something unfavorable instead?" He just barely doesn't snap it, and his hands are still balled up in fists at his side. Even worse for Soundwave, he pushes himself away from the wall he's been leaning against, to pace the scant few steps of the cell he can. His attempt is made even more difficult by the fact that he's trying to avoid the part of the cell that Soundwave is taking up, but he does it anyway. As soon as he's at the far wall, he turns in place, and makes the few steps back to his own wall, then repeats. The pacing doesn't seem to be reliving any of his tension-- in fact, encountering the wall each time only seems to add to the tension coiling inside of him.

Soundwave takes up a lot of space. And, on top of that, he enjoys a healthy circumfrence of personal space. His head moves, tracking Hound's pacing as the Autobot tromps about. His fingers curl with every step taking place in his percieved bubble. "I cannot detect anything," he says, invisible pressure gauge ticking up several notches. "I said desist," he reminds Hound.

"I stopped tapping," Hound retorts with a sharp look in Soundwave's direction. He pauses only briefly in the pacing, pausing in his turning to glare at the next wall he comes to. In this small of a space, the amount of turning he's forced to do is nearly dizzying. "And I'm waiting. Patiently." One hand comes up, to brace against the wall as though trying to push it away from himself. When that doesn't work, he turns away from it, shoulders tensing as he's forced to face the boundaries of the space again and confront exactly how small this cell they're trapped in is.

"I stopped tapping," Hound retorts with a sharp look in Soundwave's direction. He pauses only briefly in the pacing, pausing in his turning to glare at the next wall he comes to. In this small of a space, the amount of turning he's forced to do is nearly dizzying. "And I'm waiting. Patiently." One hand comes up, to brace against the wall as though trying to push it away from himself. When that doesn't work, he turns away from it, shoulders tensing as he's forced to face the boundaries of the space again and confront exactly how small this cell they're trapped in is.

Soundwave observes Hound closely, shoulder angle dipping slightly. Much better, being still. "We will be released," he says with measured certainty. Then he tacks on: "Fear of walls, unnecessary."

This time, the snarl works its way out of Hound's throat as he turns to glare at Soundwave. "I'm not afraid of them," he protests, even as his thoughts unintentionally turn toward Bludgeon and the little invisible cells accompanying that transformation. He can't really deny that the enclosed spaces of the Lost Light have bothered him ever since that incident. Being trapped here isn't any better. There's nowhere to move to, and even worse, there's no way to get away from Soundwave and his inscrutiable visor. Hound's hand, braced as it is against the wall, tenses, his claws digging into the chipped surface.

<FS3> Soundwave rolls Telepathy: Good Success. (6 7 6 1 5 3 3 7 3 7 6 1 2 4 6 4)

The rest of the world is quite quiet within the walls of this cell. But that just makes Hound all the louder. His every tap and step. The taste of his thoughts stronger... "Hound afraid of confinement. Or Bludgeon? Bludgeon is not here and we will be release. Fear unnecessary," he says once more. Like its as simple as that.

"I'm not," Hound bites out, his voice darkening into a low rumble, "afraid." His optics are glowing brightly now as he glares at Soundwave from across the length of the too-small cell. "And I don't need you to tell me what I already know. Get the frag out of my processor, Soundwave."

Soundwave's head cants several degrees. "Not afraid? If you wish to delude yourself... I will not stop you," Sounwave intones. He looks forward and away from the Autobot. "Perhaps you should think quieter."

"Or maybe you should be quiet," Hound retorts. His claws are digging into the wall now, leaving faint tracks behind as he stares at Soundwave, his entire frame coiled tight as a spring. "So we can both wait to finally get out of here, and I can stop dealing with you."

Soundwave's systems hum briefly. Like some sort of laugh when Hound says he has to 'deal' with him. Hardly. If anything, he has to deal with Hound. He lifts his chin before saying, "I have been quiet. I am not the one partaking in incessent noise." Like growl. Or tapping. Or pacing.

"But you won't shut up," Hound says, his hand still curled into the wall. Now it's more like an anchor, though, the only thing keeping him from leaning foward. The growl is vibrating his entire chassis now, as he blatantly bares fangs in Soundwave's direction. Soundwave's calm exterior isn't helping anything. In fact, the lack of reaction on his part only seems to be making Hound angrier, to coil him tighter in preparation of anything that might set him off.

Soundwave doesn't respond. He stands there, still as a statue. Again, one has to consider if he's taking a nap there on his side of the cell. Until Hound's abrasive aggression can't be completely ignored. One of his tentacles slowly slithers out frome under his armor, just hanging out with the claws flexxing at the end. Clack-clack. Just in case.

Even a non-reaction isn't quite enough to divert Hound's anger away from Soundwave. The snarl bubbles up out of him as he watches Soundwave just stand there, but it's the appearance of the tentacle that makes him jerk away from the wall again. There's a moment where his course is ambiguous, a moment where he almost starts to step straight into Soundwave's personal bubble. Then he changes his footing, and he's back to pacing. His thoughts aren't any quieter, though. They're a whirl now, full of pent-up anger and resentment and all of it aimed squarely at Soundwave. "Frag you," he growls, as though in emphasis.

Soundwave doesn't turn to look at Hound but there's there's an intense impression that he is, the weight of an invisible gaze hefting against the Autobot. "... I did not think you'd take this so... Unwell. Immature. I've misjudged Bludgeon's effect on you," he observes. Halting almost thoughtfully.

In a better place, at a better time, Hound probably could have taken this more gracefully. Given the space to walk away and cool his head before reacting, it might not even have come to the point of pacing. Of course, the problem is that they're stuck in a cell together with no sign of the way out, and here Soundwave is, looking down on him, as if he has any clue about what Bludgeon's experimentation has put Hound through, well--

Maybe it's not so much of a surprise, when Hound lunges forward, fangs bared in a snarl.

<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Hound=Unarmed VS Soundwave=Unarmed < Hound: Amazing Success (8 8 8 7 5 8 3 6 7 1) Soundwave: Good Success (3 6 4 2 3 1 7 7 6 6 5) < Net Result: Hound wins - Crushing Victory

The raised tentacle becomes the subject of Hound's ire-- as he snatches at the extended limb/artifact with a hand, and with a deft movement of his head, sinks fangs deep into it. It should be enough to get Soundwave to back off, but in the haze of anger, it's not enough for Hound, and it's not enough for the beast brain howling through him. Uncaring of the writhing and the sparks his actions cause, his claws dig into the tentacle in his grasp, and his helm jerks the other way. He pulls at the limb until it nearly snaps, only a few damaged wires and supports holding the whole thing together.

Hound is faster than Soundwave could have anticipated and his tentacle pays the price. He'd be infuriated- he just had that FIXED!!- if it did not hurt so much. Its like he's touched an open flame once more as the tendril is rended almost in twain by Hound. With his teeth.

Soundwave's other tentacle rounds around to snag Hound around his waist as he throws a fist to the hound dog's face.

<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Hound=Unarmed VS Soundwave=Unarmed < Hound: Good Success (3 1 2 5 3 7 3 6 7 1) Soundwave: Great Success (4 5 6 1 7 1 8 7 6 4 7) < Net Result: Soundwave wins - Solid Victory

Distracted as he is by the anger filling his processors, Hound isn't prepared for Soundwave to react quite like that. He's ready to dig claw and fang further into the tentacles as Soundwave tries to pull away-- he's not about to let his prey go so easily-- but he isn't expecting retaliation. He jerks in surprise at the tentacle that snags him around the waist, and is soundly taken off guard by the fist that snaps across his faceplates and sends him staggering backward with a yelp. His free hand flies up to his faceplates to press against the cracked optic there, as his grip on Soundwave's injured feeler loosens.

Soundwave jerks his damaged cord away from Hound, the other one moving to shove him back into the other corner of their cell. Its not much distance but it will work. "I had not finished speaking," he says tersely, vents hissing loudly- laboriously. He takes a step back, his shoulders brushing against the wall, and lays his pathetically injured limb into his servos. His fingers brush at it, causing further ragged vents. Hnnn... "Are you done, Hound? Do you require futher force?"

It helps that Hound doesn't try to spring back into biting, either. Unbalanced by the push, he stumbles ntil his back is up against the corner, then unsteadily slides down it until he's sitting in that corner. "I..." he starts to say, then grimaces at the feeling of metal and fluid in his mouth. He rubs the back of one hand against his mouth, smearing away the remains of the bite, even though the unpleasant taste remains. His cracked optic flickers slightly, as he looks in Soundwave's direction, and guilt floods into his thoughts to take the place of the anger, though it's snarled and complicated by resentment and the lingering flavor of irritation. "I'm done," he says finally. "...Sorry." One hand creeps toward his helm, his fingers curling around the edges of a panel as his claws press hard against the surface.

Soundwave hesitates, wary... But his undamaged cord finally receeds from Hound. He stays hunched, fingers working carefully until, finally, the damaged part of his tentacle detaches. And with the bad feedback no longer filtering through his datanet, Soundwave relaxes. Better.

Carefully, Soundwave deposits the damaged end into subspace. Its actually in better shape than when it was almost incinerated at least. "Good." Beat. "I am frustrated about our circumstances as well. I pushed when I should not have. Apologies..."

Hound watches silently as Soundwave works at the components, then pops off the damaged section. Some of the guilt eases, as he sees the change in Soundwave's posture as it's removed. It's not gone, though, just muted under the weight of the thousand other things that Hound is feeling right now. He can't muster up the surprise that Soundwave can just detatch pieces of it like that.

He can absolutely be surprised when Soundwave apologizes, though. Both of his optics reset, and his helm raises to look Soundwave in the visor, as it takes a few moments for him to find his voice. "I should have a better handle on it by now," he admits, optics dropping again. "But thanks, I guess." At his helm, his hand tenses, then relaxes again. Another fidget-- but at least this one is silent.

Soundwave looks to Hound. There's more he could say. Wants to say. But another look around the room and he doesn't. Not in a probably monitored cell. "How are they hologram I asked for your help with coming along?" he asks instead. He shifts, turns, and slides down to the ground.

<FS3> Hound rolls Holograms: Success. (4 3 2 1 2 3 5 7 2)

Soundwave sliding down to sit gets another blatant stare out of Hound, before he remembers himself and looks away again. "The holograms are going fine," he says, when his brain catches up with the question he was actually asked. "I could show you, he adds." Some of it is a challenge, of course. A need to show Soundwave that he can actually do the thing he's been asked to do. The rest of it is... an acceptance of the truce, for the moment. They can't very well sit here and tear each other apart in the cell. And besides, maybe if he shows something else around them, the cell will feel less claustrophobic.

Hound doesn't wait for much of a response before he lets the image flicker to life around them. It's not perfect, yet. It feels a bit like a video game level not properly rendered. Some of the shadows aren't there yet, and the textures feel a bit prefabricated, but Nyon, the body of Metroplex-- now, suddenly, it's all there around them.

Soundwave looks around at the hologram Hound presents to him. He looks for something in particular. Specific. He searches and sees- yes, there. The wall. "Progress... Adequate. Thank you for your assistance, Hound. I would not be able to do this without you." He looks over Nyon before leaning back. "And when we do get out of here, I'll be sure to inconvenience them for putting us in here." And that would, hopefully, be soon.

And if not, awkwardly sitting on either end of the cell will be enough for no more scuffles. (No promises.)

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