Baby Steps

[Deleted]

Characters: @peripheral, @stepper
Location: Control Room
Content Warnings: Mentions of injuries and brief talk of medical procedures
Plot Summary: While recovering from the damage sustained while he was marooned on a remote island, Peripheral meets a mech who seems to be just as much of a sad kid as he is.

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"Augh! This is so... STUPID!" Peripheral gritted his dentae and balled his fists, his optics narrowed behind his glasses. Then he sank down to the floor. All he'd wanted was to try to get to know his new surroundings, but it was just so difficult. Walking was so hard, and it wasn't even like he could fly. Sure, his glasses had been repaired, but his right optic was considerably weaker now than it had been, and he couldn't see out of the corner of it anymore.

His antennae folded back and he hung his helm, tapping his digits on his leg slowly. He couldn't bring his knees up to his chest, so they were out straight. Trying to flex the right knee joint quickly proved fruitless, so he gave up, grumbling quietly to himself.

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Stepper flinched for a moment when he heard the yelling, holding his datapad closer to himself. What made him think he was suited for field work? He knew he should have just stayed home like the rookie communications mech instead of trying to "play sniper" for his team in the mines. Maybe if he hadn't been such a klutz and a damn rookie, he would have been able to keep his teammates safe.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted." He flinched back. It hadn't occurred to him that this wasn't, in fact, his fault as he had just gotten into the room and that the mech before him had gone through a Bad Time. Suddenly his problems didn't seem so bad, seeing someone who was in bad shape in front of him while he was at least alive and whole.

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At first, Peripheral wasn't able to see where that voice was coming from, and he himself jumped in place. As he raised his helm, his gaze landed on another mech-- one who was drawn into himself. His wings and antennae slumped further and he bit his lip. He'd unnerved the poor guy. What a first impression that must have been.

"Look... maybe I could use the distraction. You look like you could too." He half-quirked an optical ridge, though the corners of his mouth were still quite firmly twitched down. "I've actually been kind of dying for someone new to talk to. Not that I don't think Pharma's great, it's just... yeah. What's your name, anyway?" He motioned with his helm for him to come closer.

Looking up at him, Peripheral immediately made note of two things: the first was that the other mech seemed really young, younger than he himself was. The second... "Hey...
Always nice to see someone else with glasses." Peripheral finally gave a tiny halfhearted smile.

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"I could...maybe...I don't know. Maybe I don't deserve distractions and should probably stew on things though." He seemed torn. He wanted a distraction but somehow felt he didn't deserve it for some reason. "S-Stepper. Stepper of Polyhex, sir." His gaze darted away and back to Peripheral.

He would settle next to Peripheral, still seeming anxious the whole time. "It...it is nice, isn't it?" He gave a meek look. "Were your optics damaged young too?"

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"Sir, huh? No one's called me that before. Name's Peripheral. Peripheral of Iacon, though I couldn't tell you much else." Glancing toward Stepper, he took in the sight of the other young mech. He seemed so anxious... Peripheral figured his outburst likely hadn't helped matters.

"Sorry about before. I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, if you're afraid of that. Just... it's been tough adjusting to all this, you know? I can barely remember who I am and where I came from." With a brief pause, Peripheral closed his optics to think. "I think they were always faulty. I can't remember a time where I didn't have to wear these things."

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"W-well, sir, I'm just a Private and you're a medic so you outrank me, sir!" He had a meek look. "Though I'm not a very good soldier, it seems. I mess up all the time. I'm almost waiting for a dishonorable discharge..."

He then knitted his fingers nervously. "Oh. I only have brief memories of when I had decent optics, but I was so young back then. Just barely came online. My creators had...well, they had wanted their perfect little merchant computer whiz."