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Post by gryfeathr on Nov 26, 2011 3:15:59 GMT -5
They crouch together in the shifting shade of the rock. Outside the heat of day cools to night, and the distant sounds of treads or the occasional high pitched whine of a gun trails off to nothing. Powershot tries not to be keenly aware of the larger bot crouched next to him, but that is nearly impossible in such a narrow space. Roadrash is hard to ignore anyway, aesthetically or not. The purple is loud, his expression cocky, and the way he wears damage has a certain magnetic visual appeal.
Road awake and moving is really the best kind, beaten up and still fighting. Not giving up. There's a resilience in him that's reassuring, in a way that little else is when he's half the size of most around him with two smaller brothers to keep in one piece. Bounce has fallen silent, ticked a little at being muted out of the conversation, not that there was much to hear, but he's still monitoring for them.
He'll give the all clear.
Powershot's fingers curl in the sand with handfuls, grains sticking to the mixture of coolant and oil on his palms. He'll need to make sure to wash the evidence away as soon as possible when he gets back inside. He's toeing the line of insubordination, but there's a certain fierce determination in it. He's not really a Decepticon, nor an Autobot, but he doesn't like being forced to play spy for anyone, and there's a certain resentment he can't entirely ignore at both sides for dragging him and his brothers into playing at war when the whole thing is just deeply irrelevant to anything he cares about.
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Post by Conway on Nov 26, 2011 3:59:33 GMT -5
Road's quiet for the most part, keeping himself busy with self diagnostics and scans. He'll mention when some minor system is back online just to keep the silence at bay. He's not good at quiet, but he keeps his voice down at least.
"Hm, long range is back up. 'Cade wants to know where I am.."
He sends back a 'Damaged but operational'-'Assistance un-needed' to his superior and settles again. It's not very interesting outside and his gaze ends up wandering to Powershot instead. He's gotten to see him quite a bit lately compared to the long absence after the little bot left the Decepticons. He wonders over that, why they left. But he doesn't ask, not thing time. Maybe next time. He's not always as stupid as he seems and he doesn't think it's a good time to prod Powershot about it. Maybe it was just to dangerous for them at the base. He imagines Autobots don't make sport of their minis.
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Post by gryfeathr on Nov 26, 2011 4:05:23 GMT -5
Powershot nods, businesslike, once, the angle of his chin sharp. He edges nearer to the edge, oddly silent. Unlike most, he seems able to shut down all his systems to a dampened sound level hard to track, and he's careful about where he puts his feet and hands. He scans the horizon line.
"Bounce says it should be all clear." He's reluctant. His crouch is heavy as the idea of going back to base becomes crushingly depressing, if necessary. "I guess they'll be glad enough to have a weapon back in one piece back at the 'Con base."
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Post by Conway on Nov 26, 2011 4:22:41 GMT -5
Road watches Powershot carefully, then looks down to his ruined gauntlets. " Not completely in one piece." A weapon? Well he supposes that's what he is, but is that how Shot sees him? Probably not, he wouldn't bother helping a weapon right?
"Let me out then? I need to stretch my legs, it's cramped in here."
Shot is between him and outside, but he'd rather not push him to get out.
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Post by gryfeathr on Nov 26, 2011 4:41:40 GMT -5
"Most of one."
Weapons, that's all they are to the ones in charge. Powershot understands this, perhaps better then most. He opens his hands to let the sand run out from them and brushes it off, casting a glance over his shoulder to where Road looms anxious and waiting.
Road waits, when he doesn't wait for anything. He can read it in him and its confusing, a little.
Road's always been a bit different with the three of them.
He shifts out of the way, not inclined to argue the point, the same way he's not inclined to argue to begin with. Lets Road out before carefully following, sticking close to the formation of the rock. Instead of saying anything he scans the sky, crouched low, used to staying as hidden as possible at all times.
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Post by Conway on Nov 26, 2011 4:52:56 GMT -5
Road moves past him onto open ground and stretches. It causes thing to pop and grind in unpleasant ways and Road winces, but it seems to set some parts back where they should be. His arms snap down from the stretch and what realignment he can get is completed in the dusty purple armor shifting back to it's proper placement. He exhales, satisfied with that. Then he looks back down to Powershot, a smile to cover up his anxieties. " Do you think I'm a weapon, Shot?"
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Post by gryfeathr on Nov 26, 2011 4:57:22 GMT -5
Powershot, his thoughts interrupted, looks up with a wide eyed blink.
"What? No." His brows draw together, not following the logic of the question. He looks back out to the horizon line, in front, to the left, the right, and then behind. His internal compasses adjust a little and the Autobot base is somewhere to his back, the Decepticon base somewhere to the fore.
North and South. Guidance points that would drag together and then violently repel.
"Bounce would say you're too slow to be one." The edge of his mouth curls. "You're just you."
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Post by Conway on Nov 26, 2011 5:11:52 GMT -5
"Heh." His smile pulls into a smirk. " Alright then." He's satisfied with the answer, he should have known anyway. He looks out ahead, needing a moment to check his global positioning before he's sure of his route. "I've got a long walk ahead of me... Tell Flip I said hi, hmm?" He looks back. "I'll see ya around, Shot." And he does intend to, but now he has to go home. So with another smile he turns away, starting his paced run away from Autobots and back to base. Torque worries about him at least. Seriously, a ping ever half hour!?
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Post by gryfeathr on Nov 27, 2011 2:21:27 GMT -5
Powershot can't follow the movement from question to resolution, but he can tell that in some way he's said the right thing. Road looks better, more prepared in a way, for the trek back to the Decepticon base.
He supposes he finds that satisfying, if mystifying.
He nods, looking at Road's shadow framed against the dying sunlight, and his fingers twitch. His processors stop and other routines twitch to life; composition and aperture and timing. A steady hand or a tripod. A little light from the side to accentuate the rough line of Road's face and the fan of his hair.
The distraction is breif, and he blinks, and he's forced to focus on the present.
"Hopefully not in a holding cell, next time," he says, oddly pleased by the promise. Its a naive promise, but not one he expected. Traitor, back stabber, all of that, that he'd expected.
Not this reminder of how things used to be on Cybertron.
His mouth curls at one side. "And I'll tell him. Both of them."
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