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Post by Conway on Jan 31, 2012 23:05:24 GMT -5
He stays quiet, running diagnostics on his battered systems.
After a moment he turns to look at Powershot in an unfocused way, HUD displays still partially obscuring his vision.
"Four to six joors...at least. Before I can travel on foot."
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Post by gryfeathr on Jan 31, 2012 23:55:49 GMT -5
Road didn't have joors to recover. Powertshot sinks back on his heels, eyes distant as he tries to crunch numbers, situations, memories, into a solution. He's not big enough to carry him. He can't even drag him. There's nothing he can do as his fingers twitch with helplessness he's long ago had to become accustomed to. He's a placid bot for all that he gets easily distracted, and for once, frustration yanks his jaw servos tight and coils his fingers.
He's so small and useless.
A rumble, coughing and kicking, echoes across the landscape, and Powershot reflexively ducks.
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Post by Conway on Feb 1, 2012 0:26:58 GMT -5
Road sits passively, head turning towards the sound. It's unclear weather he's lost some survival instinct in this state, or if he just see's zero threat
Road is dumb in quite a few area's but at least cars is one ting he's good at.
"It's okay. Civilian vehicle...you could take them."
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Post by gryfeathr on Feb 7, 2012 18:33:24 GMT -5
Powershot doesn't think to question how Road knows. He slowly uncoils, pushing up on his hands while trying to keep his body flat. It's a wriggling, careful way to keep his form below the line of the horizon and peer to see what's coming.
What's coming is a cloud of coughing oil, large wheels, and a body shot to pieces, driving by a triumphant Yellow Jack smear of color.
It's a jeep. Its not just a jeep, it's an autobot jeep, and clearly hot wired. Jack nearly drives it over them, his breaks squealing and locking as he pulls it up in the sand next to him. He's covered in oil and fresh splatters, and swings out of the side to stumble.
"Fuck. You." He states, very clearly, as he hops into their hollow.
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Post by Conway on Feb 8, 2012 22:33:07 GMT -5
He stays seated(he's not sure he could have moved back from the incoming vehicle if he wanted at this point.) but he does close his eyes against the dust and turn his head away. Jack should be a good enough driver not to hit shit but that car sounds like a piece of slag.
He would look disgusted at the vehicle at any other time, and disgust very nearly comes through in his voice.
"Why?"
It's unclear if he means " Why did you come back." or "Why did you come back with THAT!?"
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Post by gryfeathr on Feb 9, 2012 22:06:26 GMT -5
"Shut up and get your ungrateful assplate in the damn jeep," Jack says, roughly grabbing Road by the upper arm. Gentle bedside manner, or even basic care, doesn't factor in to the situation. He's not trained for kindness or care. He hauls. He's not much, but he's bigger than Powershot, and in better shape than Road, which leaves him the most able Predacon for about one hundred yards around.
A flash of panic is quickly devoured by links of supression in Powerhsot, battle logic over running simpler worries and fears. He gets to his feet, small, and knowing that next time they may not meet nearly as well on a battlefield. He's reluctant to leave Road.
He looks down, with an unknowable sort of look on his face. He should run, now that Road has transportation back to his base. To the Decepticon retreat paths. All the sneaky, spy like things he can do don't even cross his mind. He might not see him for a very long time, after this.
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Post by Conway on Feb 11, 2012 0:30:44 GMT -5
He's surprised by the force behind Jack's move and shuffles his feet under himself to help.
"Wait." he leans back. " My armor."
He makes a weak effort to squirm from Jack to get it, but he looks to Powershot, uncertain. They never really say goodbye after their chance meetings, but shaken, insecure,..in shock as he is, Road feels like he's supposed to say...something even if Jack is right there.
"I'll..see you around Shot."
It's not a question, but there is a request for confirmation in his voice and in his face.
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Post by gryfeathr on Feb 23, 2012 23:45:39 GMT -5
Powershot crouches in the dust by Road's armor, his palm rested over a large dent that had dug into Road's undercarriage. His head snaps up at the words so unusually sentimental, meeting Road's eyes.
Powershot's eyes are bright, and in the middle of this battlefield of struggle, death, and war, the edge of his mouth twitches like it used to in his reserved smiles.
"Stay in one piece, until you do," he said, and tossed him a bent shoulder plate. "I still haven't finish taking pictures of you."
Jack ignored it all, rolling his eyes with disgust and dragging Road back to the car. "Forget the slagged armor! Its worthless. C'mooon."
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Post by Conway on Feb 23, 2012 23:50:34 GMT -5
He struggles to catch the tossed armor nearly dropping it again and he manages just a little tug at the corner of his mouth, something embarrassed.
But he's serious again when he refuses Jack. Even though he lacks the strength the physically fight against him.
"If I don't die here, Bombshell will kill me for losing this. Bring it back with me."
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Post by gryfeathr on Feb 23, 2012 23:53:15 GMT -5
"You little shit!" Jack groused. "Fuck your armor, fuck it," but even as he cursed, he climbed out of the truck. Powershot's smile grew sly, the angle of his eyes surprised and pleased, and suddenly he was down in the dirt tossing up the armor bits he could manage.
The two threw armor into the back of the jeep as fast as they could. Overhead, the heavy womp womp womp of incoming helicopters beat an omnious reminder that they were all in the middle of a battlefield.
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Post by Conway on Feb 24, 2012 0:06:12 GMT -5
Road settled down in the truck once they were working. He would see Shot again, and his armor was coming back with him...that was all he could handle to think about. He rerouted processes to prepare for a dreamless recharge, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the seat. Even though Jack would surely be complaining at him soon enough to prevent him actually recovering on the way home.
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Post by gryfeathr on Feb 24, 2012 0:12:26 GMT -5
Clatters of metal piled in next to Road, until the last heavy thunk. It took very little time, but it was too long for all their shot nerves and sense of time. Jack hopped into the front seat and Powershot stepped back, and for a moment he could only watch while the jeep rumbled to life coughing and sputtering.
Powershots fingers twitched, as if with the ghost of a camera release, as the light of sunset threw everything in streaks of red and orange.
"Good luck," he said, and then he turned to run into the dunes and sands and disappear.
Jack gunned the engine, the wheels spun, and with a lurch, they headed off across the desert to retreat.
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