2018-02-10 Lake Trip

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Lake Trip
Date 2018/02/10
Location A Planet
Participants Perceptor, Prowl
Summary Death by fire and poorly timed underwater chats don't seem like a good way to improve relations.

A hellscape surrounds Perceptor and Prowl, a massive forest on fire. Harbinger misdeeds that the Lost Lighters attempted to counteract in these last waning hours. But this planet was doomed. Thankfully, most of it had been evacuated. Prowl is up against Perceptor's back and venting heavily, energon streaked on his frame where a massive battle axe had broken off in his chest. The blade remains. He's firing into the blazing trees at unseen combatants that eventually seem to give up.

A tree pitches and crashes nearby, tossing embers. Prowl tries to hail a portal, but someone's blocking communications. He curses.

It's an awful situation and there don't seem to be many good options here. Perceptor's down an optic from blast shrapnel earlier in the fight, energon since turned sticky and dim down his faceplates and chest. A pair of blazing tailtips occasionally lashes close to Prowl's heels but they can't afford to split apart for safety and Perceptor is too angry to focus the flames away. One of his sidearms clicks uselessly when he twitches to fire toward the falling tree.

"Evac?" Perceptor tilts his head to carry over the ambient noise. Share some good news, Prowl.

"Trying. Comms are down. !Blaster's work I'm sure." Prowl sinks to one knee and braces a hand on the charred grass of their small clearing. His glass starts to warp in the heat. "They're leaving though. The Harbingers. We may be able to wait it out."

"Did we get a topographical scan on the way in?" Perceptor pops a hip out to shove his empty sidearm into storage, the motion leading into a twist to get a look at Prowl. "Not here. Can you transform?"

"I don't see a way out," Prowl vents, smoke blotting out the sky. "Yeah, hang on." It takes a tad longer than normal but he's able to fold into his cruiser mode, the axe blade pushed out stick in the ground. The topographical data is sent Perceptor's way. It's rough, but it displays a solid dip in the land, north of them. Possibly a lake.

A lake's better than nothing. Perceptor holsters his other gun and folds down into his own alt, taking advantage of the lower position to get a better read. "North. I'll make a path for you. I burn blue, follow that." His tails swish and raise into the air and Perceptor bounds into the surrounding fire to find some outlet from the clearing that cat claws can easily widen.

<FS3> Perceptor rolls Recon: Good Success. (6 1 2 5 7 7 1 6)

The search goes well enough and a few shoves and shifting of downed trunks gets Perceptor a Prowl-sized hole in the surrounding wall of burning trees and forest detrius. He waves his tails to get the mech's attention toward the opening.

Oh right, Perceptor is fireproof. Prowl says nothing, willing his engine to push him on flattened tires through the burning forest. He follows the two blue points on Perceptor's tail, as fast as he can manage, charred wood breaking off in his undercarriage.

<FS3> Perceptor rolls Recon: Good Success. (3 7 8 4 1 4 4 7)

Again, awful conditions. Perceptor's luck with finding a way out for Prowl holds long enough to get them out of the battle-damaged clearing and to more undisturbed - but still definitely on fire - forest. He moves with much more ease than Prowl on the terrain but occasionally just trips, the bright blue streaks of biolights that mark his location through the smoke abruptly dipping or going out for a few seconds each time.

Slowly but steadily they start to head north, toward that topographical lowered zone.

They emerge from the scalding treeline, on to the wet sand of a small beach. But the flames chase them, and fall over Prowl's frame. He transforms and plunges right into the lake, dragging Perceptor by the tail. The inferno burns with unnatural temperatures, as if the flame was fed with more than just woodlands. It rages overhead, but at least the lake seems clear at the bottom, if a little shallow.

Perceptor will deny the disgruntled, startled noise he makes when Prowl yanks him into the water, lingering frame-bound flames flickering out and leaving just biolights and his single bright blue optic to glare at Prowl. Through the bubbling hiss of water around their overheated plating he reaches out to thwack Prowl's hand off his tails. That hurts!

Prowl releases his hold pretty quickly. He just sits on the murky lake floor, his energon drifting in strange glowing wisps around him. <<"Alright... That was close. Thanks, Perceptor.">>

<<"Mission deaths aren't ideal.">> Perceptor's careful response comes mid-transformation. He doesn't look toward Prowl when it completes, scanning toward the surface above for any signs they've been followed and continue to be hunted. <<"How's your frame's structural integrity?">>

<<"I'll hold together, if that's what you're asking.">> Prowl watches the last of his trapped air bubbles drift to the orange surface. There doesn't seem to be any forms of life showing up on Perceptor's scans, at least near the lake. <<"What about you?">>

Transforming must have jarred whatever circuitry the shrapnel cut through earlier, a thin stream of energon has started seeping into the water around Perceptor's left optic. <<"Targeting efficiency is down roughly 25. What's the plan?">>

<<"I don't know. I'll keep trying to hail. We wait here.">> Prowl finally shifts to sit crosslegged, stirring up silt. <<"...I wasn't /actually/ going to demote you, you know.">>

Perceptor's tails swish and curl up around his waist while he gathers himself together into a loose huddle. Prowl's foray into conversation gets a dry look that loses some effect without a functional uncovered optic. <<"I'm aware. You feel the need to do this now?">>

<<"No, you're right. We can sit in grim silence.">> Prowl delivers on this right away, dropping his chin into his hands. Staring straight at Perceptor. Staaare.

Prowl earns a sour look before Perceptor decides to let himself fall backwards to lay on the lakebed, scope shifting about to keep a visual on the other mech. It takes some time but Prowl eventually gets a response. <<"You're impossible.">>

<<"So I've been told,">> Prowl mutters, picking up a strange alien mollusk. It's strange slimy foot sticks out, and he tosses the shell. <<"You're still angry, then.">>

<<"I don't know.">> Perceptor admits, biolights rippling with some hesitance. <<"It's complex. You're an ass.">>

Prowl finally follows Perceptor's example, slide back to lay on the lakebed. <<"I don't disagree, but - I've been working on improvement! Interpersonal improvement. And I've seen results.">> His cheeky grin is out of sight. <<"Just, for some reason, it's you. Something about /you/.">>

<<"I feel so special.">> Perceptor drawls, lazily flicking tails and sending up a cloud of light silt. Go on Prowl, he's listening.

<<"Heh.">> Prowl doesn't elaborate. Maybe this /wasn't/ a good time for the topic. Just as well, the comm finally goes through, and the swirling blue portal of the space bridge opens up beneath the both of them. Water and sand spatters the floor of the room within Tempo as the two mechs are shoved through in a tangle.

"Heh?" Perceptor repeats back to Prowl. He doesn't land on his feet, not quite, but he does manage to keep from faceplanting into the floor, which is more than Prowl can say. The sudden change of scenery is enough to set nerves back to grating and he levers up to a crouch to pull Prowl up. "Explanations would be appreciated; I don't enjoy our 'conversations', for lack of a better term, Prowl."

Prowl lingers face down on the ground, dripping and bleeding. Better than the inferno. It takes him a minute to get his feet beneath him, as Perceptor helps him up. "I don't have answers. We may never get along. But hey, good thing we can still work together, else I'd be smelted by now."

Perceptor makes a frustrated, pitched noise. "I don't understand you." Still though, he dips down to offer Prowl something to prop against if he needs it for the trek back to the medibay. "Infuriating mech. Anything that cannot wait for the medibay?"

"Maybe this big gash in my chest." Prowl gestures, leaning heavily. "I'd better get it handled first. Dump me off there and I'll stop being so infuriating. Promise." He offers a tired smile.

<FS3> Perceptor rolls Medicine: Great Success. (8 4 6 5 3 1 5 8 8 7 1)

Nodding quickly, Perceptor shuffles around in storage compartments for a moment to get something for the gash. A tube of line sealant gel- it's like a bandaid, but goo - happens to be on hand and with Prowl leaning on him it's easy to reach over and squeeze it into the impalement point. "Just warn me if we begin listing toward a wall on your side. My scope doesn't provide an effective cover for that side." And his optic's a shattered mess.

Prowl startles, but doesn't pull away. Perceptor's quick first aid stops the bleeding, sure enough. "Yeah, sure. I didn't even know you could see through it. Though, uh, makes sense. Lenses and all." He babbles to distract from the awkwardness of getting hauled down the halls towards the medibay.

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