((Sorry for my absence, got the flu and lit screens triggger insta-migrane. Getting better, but a headache’s developing even as I type. See you all soon hopefulkt. Couple days.))
((I’m playing Resident Evil 5 with my boyfriend and there’s this one villain, Irving, right? He’s got the exact same voice as Rat Trap from Beast Wars and it’s just weird. Kind of like watching TFA and then wondering when the Ice King came in.))
Bulkhead drove into the outpost and transformed, stretching after the long drive of securing the perimeter of humans who disobeyed the no-trespassing sign. He didn’t reveal himself to them or anything like that, he put his voice on loud speaker and escorted them off the premises… Normally it was just kids from the nearby town looking for a private place to make out… unfortunately their pleasure was his danger and couldn’t afford to be found out or Fowler would have his hide in scraps. Seriously.
The outpost was quiet as normal, even with his visitor that came the other night. Hotwire was still staying with him… His optics dimmed with concern as his thoughts turned to her. What was happening to her? She wasn’t herself… quiet… he would say sad but that might’ve been over-masked by her exhausted look. He wished there was someway for him to help her, some way to make her happy again. For some reason he had the sinking fear he would never see her smile again.
Right there he made the decision to go check on her with a short nod to himself. Lumbering down the hall, he noticed a lump on the ground… and then fear stung at his spark.
"H-hotwire?" as he rushed closer. "Hotwire?!"
It was indeed the copter femme’s limp form collapsed on the floor of the hallway, cables splayed about her frame but lifeless as well. Rushing over, Bulkhead heard a loud crack and a crunch under his pedes. Lifting up his legs one at a time… it was the shattered pieces of an energon container… more specifically they had the remnants of highgrade dripping from them!
"Hotwire!! Can you hear me?!"
Bulkhead didn’t care if those pieces stabbed and jabbed at him. He fell to his knees and gathered Hotwire’s body into his arms, holding her close to his chassis, “Wake up… oh please oh please oh please wake up!! Hotwire!!” Rocking gently back and forth… “HOTWIRE!!!”
A crackle comes over his comm. ::Bulkhead? Bulkhead, do you read? Me and Crankshaft are nearing your base, what’s the status on Hotwire? My indicators are fritzing, all I know is she’s in a bad way. Is she in pain, unconscious, what? Bulkhead?::
The voice over his comm seemed very far away, his spark pounding so hard he feared it would jump right out of its chamber. Easing Hotwire’s body away from his chassis while he still held her limp in his arms, sliding a hand over her head cables to support her limp head, he had finally noticed Echo’s voice stressing in his audios. Stammering and fumbling for words, Bulkhead managed to answer her, “E-Echo… She’s she’s not awake.. unconscious… I don’t know how… High grade m-maybe..?”
::She’s been drinking?:: Echo almost yelled. ::That—! I told her—! If she doesn’t die, I’ll kill her. Scrap, okay, ah…:: The medic took a second to collect herself. ::You have a visual, right? I need to see her. Hold on, I’m requesting an optic stream with you, just… leave your firewall down and look at Hotwire!::
Echo checked her chronometer. Two minutes out. Once the optic stream was running, she knew exactly what had hapenned.
::Oh, Primus!:: she swore. ::I knew I should’ve kept a better eye on her, shit! Okay, Bulkhead, this is important; I need you to lay her out, faceup, make sure her arms are out to her sides and her helm is tilted back, okay? So she looks like a ‘T’. We’ll be there in a klick.::
Bulkhead has stood on the precipice of death, staring it in the optics while scorching heat melted his insides with a rock that would kill him a lot faster than the lava could… and felt a sinking fear then that he could die and never see anyone he loved again. He never thought he could feel that way again after what he went through, but there he was, feeling that very same fear of never seeing someone he loved again.
Venting hard, he had to focus, what Echo was instructing could save Hotwire’s life… right? Slowly, he laid her down on the floor, tensing a little at the near empty sound her body made on even gentle contact with the floor. Spreading her arms out carefully and then with a delicate touch, he lifted her chin so her head tilted back.
Once his task was done he now had the agonizing seconds to wait for Echo. Each was a second too long and his spark tightened in his chassis ever harder.
In the main room, a blue-green glow came into existence and expanded swiftly into a groundbridge. Echo—followed closely by a loaded-down Crankshaft and three pirates, two carrying their own equipment—bolted into the room, wings twitching madly.
"Where’s—?" There. The medic ran over to Hotwire’s side, opposite of Bulkhead, and immediately plugged in a hardline connection to the hidden port by her audial. Hotwire’s intakes were irregular and the air around her frame was shimmering with excess heat. Her fans were clicking and whirring sporadically.
Nothing through the connection; the captain had hardy firewalls and her glitching systems wouldn’t take the passcode frequency to lower them.
Okay, next best thing. Echo charged up the sonar mods in her servos and ran them above Hotwire’s limp frame, a representation of her full physical self—inside and out—manifesting itself on Echo’s HUD. The problem was immediately seen.
It was exactly what Thunderlane had warned her of. And she hadn’t listened until Hotwire was in danger.
Several emotions passed over her field in quick succession—fear, worry, regret, anger, more fear, resolution. She looked up to Bulkhead. ”Go over by the wall by Sabre but be ready to help if we need it. Crankshaft—”
"Got it." The mechanic had quickly set up an odd-looking device near Hotwire’s helm that began bleeping with blinking screens as soon as he pressed the last joint in place. He looked over to the other trio. "You all set up the polarizer and the software regulator," he instructed, pointing to the dismantled piece of equipment. "I’ll wire her up to the hard systems regulator."
He looked to Echo, who was mentally picking at Hotwire’s firewalls. ”You worry about the rest.” He tossed her a smaller device from his subspace and she set to work as Crankshaft located a catch at the side of Hotwire’s chassis and pressed at it. The medical ports at her chassis, base of the helm, and inner arms all clicked open and the mechanic-cum-nurse plugged the machine’s cables into various ports.
Echo had absolutely no hesitation, all emotion fading to determination and duty as she plugged the small device into a free port—an emergency trinket she’d crafted for just a situation like this. A few button presses, and Hotwire’s chassal plates slid open, releasing a wave of heat. Slivers of gold light flickered out—the plates of Hotwire’s spark chamber were off-kilter and twitching.
The medic looked up. ”Is the polarizer ready, and whichever one of you has medical experience, get over here.”
::I have no idea why you hate them. They make for fun games of catch.:: Jordan nonchalantly picked up the massive containers holding various flora and loaded it into the small trailer. She stood next to Thunderlane and frowned. She also bought a fully grown palm tree, but had no idea how to carry it.
"Sorry if I get dirt on ya." The base of the palm, which was bagged several times, ended up on the seat with the large fronds hanging over the end of the trailer. She sat on palm on somehow managed to get her hands to the handle bars. Yea nobody would notice it. Not at all.
Only after a few unusually quiet minutes of driving did Jordan say something to Thunderlane. ::Hey what’s the matter?::
::Huh? Oh.:: he stayed silent for a while longer as he changed lanes.
::…I’m really worried about Hotwire,:: he eventually said quietly. ::Last time this happened, she almost…:: he trailed off. It took another minute before he spoke again, this time angrily.
::I told Echo that she wasn’t just depressed this time and I thought it was happening again! And she didn’t listen, nobody ever listens to me! She said she’d fixed it for good and it couldn’t happen again and by the time she finally fragging decided that maybe, for once she might be wrong, then Hotwire was gone and she might be d—…::
There was a sudden lurch and screech of rubber on pavement as the two-wheeler jerked off to the side to avoid a van attempting to merge on top of them, the trailer hitch groaning behind them. He weaved behind a green sports car, barely missing its back bumper, and the driver’s horn went off. The guy in the car flipped him off and Thunderlane’s engine revved and he swerved into the next lane over, racing past the sports car and leaving a long, blue scrape on its side with an ear-bleeding SCREECH!
"FUCK YOU TOO, BUDDY!" he yelled, taking the 302 exit and blasting down the road, pulling off into a gas station and stopping by an air pump. His engine popped sporadically and his plating trembled.
Jordan held on for dear life as Thunderlane unleashed his wrath upon the cars surrounding them. One arm held onto the handlebars while a joint effort of her leg and remaining arm kept the palm tree and herself from falling off. Other travelers on the road (not being attacked) probably found the sight amusing.
The instant they stopped, she reset herself to a more comfortable position and hugged the motorbike. It honestly looked like she was just laying down.
::I think I should be asking you that, hun.:: She ran a hand over the shaking plates in the hopes of calming them. ::I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. All I know is that something went down with Hotty while I was away and its happened before.::
She sat back up and smiled. ::If she came back alright the first time then there shouldn’t be a problem this time.::
The quivering plates gradually settled down to little twitches as Jordan spoke, and Thunderlane sighed out loud. Nobody was around anyways. ::I hope so,:: he murmured dejectedly. ::I just… maybe if I’d pressed a little harder, Echo would’ve listened…::
He sighed again, his engine rumbling. ::Sorry about blowing up like that. I’m just so angry at everything and I thought driving would help, but… well.:: He paused. ::I could’ve gotten you hurt. Badly.::
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I am kind to everyone; but, when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me.
November 19th, is our blog’s 1 year Anniversary? Milestone? Birthday?!
And, to make the event special for followers too, I’m hosting a give away! (Because I want to and Tumblr is a really neat community for…
((GUESS WHO JUST TURNED EIGHTEEN?
((And again, sorry for the lack of activity on Hotwire recently. I’m still in a slump with her…))
((Will be online in Hotwire tomorrow to hopefully finish up things.))