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Characters: @pulsar Location: Outside the Harbinger Content Warnings: n/a Plot Summary: While doing routine maintanance on the ship's weapons Barricade is approached by a very unexpected new face. Rather they are friend or foe has yet to be determined.
He was doing a bit of weapons maintenance on the Harbinger's outside defenses today. It was a simple enough repair for him to make, and one he'd done many times since setting himself up at the crashed warship. It was a safe place for him to be, and in his weakened condition it was the only place he could be. There was no fighting for him, not with his injuries. He was starting to worry that his spark itself had become compromised, the field that held it together his spark might be weakened. He wasn't a medic, he didn't know. He knew he hurt most of the time, and soon he would have to resort to desperate measures to see his injuries attended.
For now he could only see to his own protection by making sure the outer defensives were properly calibarted and continuing as he was.
Aside from encounters with a handful of Autobots, he'd been left mostly alone. Which suited him fine. He didn't want to be around anyone while he was unable to protect himself, and one more battle would surely be the end of him. His frame had already been stressed past its self-repairs capacity, he knew this for a fact. Staying away from everyone, Decepticon and Autobot, was for the best. And if one more human came near this ship he swore he was stepping on them. Consequences aside.
There were many many more historical sites on Earth than should have been reasonably possible. It was like every Cybertronian artifact or doomsday weapon that had been lost in space had somehow washed up in the Sol system for some unknown reason, Pulsar thought. The wreck of the Harbinger was just the one that she happened to be passing by today. 99 times out of 100, it had been lifeless and boring as always, just another wreck dotting Earth's surface.
But today was a special day. Today the Harbinger had a little engineer hard at work on it. From her eye in the sky, Pulsar was able to determine a few things. Whoever this little skipper was, he was wounded, and badly. She could taste all the seams and cracks in his frame even from all the way up in the sky, not to mention his spark chamber was already well on its way to elemental decay. He was also very much alone, which made it all the more curious. Trying to fix a warship that had been snapped in half while you were dying wasn't a move you'd make to extend your longevity.
A small bird, a kestrel, swooped down towards the ship. It perched itself on the tip of one of its many weapon emplacements, able to look the strange little shipmate dead in the eye. She was curious, and he was alone; she was as safe as could be.
It took him a little while to notice that he was being stared at. At first he just disregarded the bird as one of Earth's native creatures and went back to his own thoughts and repairs. But his curiousity slowly drew his attention back to the strange little bird. Most of the species of this planet didn't care for his presence. He was big and loud and generally honked or did a blare of sirens when they got too close. Except he'd changed out of his enforcer altmode and no longer had the sirens. In fact there was very little that could point him out as being someone who'd chosen a police cruiser other than perhaps that his altmode remained of a similiar make and model of the cruisers.
His thoughts had wandered, and finally he finished the last calibration and turned to focus his attention on the strange bird. It looked different, didn't seem to him like it possessed feathers. His scanners really weren't working well, nor did he have the extra energy to worry too much about it. The Harbringer was programmed to detect Cybertronian spark signatures and alert him, but as it hadn't done so he didn't feel too threatened.
"Nothing here for you. You might as well move on." And yes, he realized how long he'd been alone that he'd chosen to talk to a bird.
@pulsar
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
This was the best part, and he'd practically just handed it to her. Pulsar might've killed dozens of her own kind to just to get away from their little hive mind, but she wasn't overtly malicious when it didn't suit her goals. Messing with people in the most Mutacon way possible was still her favorite past time, Decepticon or Autobot. Her target today was awfully strange in his own right, stopping his repairs of a dead ghost ship to talk to a bird passing by.
Pulsar ruffled her wings together to keep up the illusion of being a simple avian for a brief moment longer. Her curiosity often got the better of her in these kinds of situations, specifically who this bot was, and what they were doing to the Harbinger.
"So why are you here?" the bird asked in a voice that by no means matched its body.
He hadn't expected the bird to respond to him, and startled when it did so. "The frag?" Red optics regarded the bird for a long time to make sure he hadn't been hearing things before stepping forward. For the moment he didn't arm himself. No reason to stress himself out for no reason. He didn't have any room for fight right now.
Barricade remained wary, but inched closer to the bird with a very feminine voice. "I live here. Who are you?" His tone was sharp, claws twitching as his instinct told him to chase her off while his processors warned him that even that could stress his damaged frame too much and end him.
The bird chuckled to herself at Barricade's obvious confusion, its face showing more and more expression. "It must be awfully lonely, given that you've taken to chatting with birds." The bird head looked around, scanning the area, ignoring the bot for a moment.
Before he could question or threaten her again, the bird's head snapped back to Barricade. "That's a terrible looking frame you've got there, by the way. I'd find a way to patch it up before somebody took advantage of you." Only from this close could Pulsar truly see the damage that had been inflicted; just as extensive as she'd thought. She didn't need him to respond to know he was here to hide, what with a body in that state.
He felt his protocols switching on, zeroing in on this new potential threat to his survival. "You obviously aren't a bird. No avian on this planet speaks." Not on its own, not its own words. So far he hadn't really threatened her by his words, though if she were smart she'd recognize his stance as one of defense. She certainly wasn't winning any points pointing out his state of damage.
"Fighting does that." He bit it out, not admitting one way or the other that she was spot on in her assessment. "Who are you?" He asked it again. A growl ripped through his frame then, and he had to immediately silence warning messages as the vibration did unpleasant things to him. "Do you think I'd still be damaged if patching it up was an option?" He was in pain and sarcasm was his mainstay in that case. "I'm built for the frontlines, not as a medic."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
The fact that Barricade hadn't even reached for his weapons yet spoke volumes to Pulsar. He was nervous, as he should be around such a strange bird. He was certainly observant though, finding out that no birds on Earth actually spoke words. "I'm just an observer, no need to be so cross," the bird replied, still delicately perched on the edge of the cannon's barrel.
The shape of the kestrel melted away in a silver sea, reforming itself into the rough shape of a bot about Barricade's own height. Once the transformation was complete, Pulsar was sitting in all her glory on the cannon, left leg folded over her knee. "Yes, you could certainly use a medic, methinks."
He shifted his stance the second she transformed, not sure what strange sort of Cybertronian she was that she could do that and not willing to risk finding out the hard way. He gave the femme a quick sweep of his optics, noting her size and general configuration in case he had to fight. Mostly he looked for obvious weapons, though it was more likely hers were hidden. But she hadn't offered him hostility yet, and so he had to respond in kind. Despite the insistance of his instincts that she was very wrong.
He put his arm across his chassis, claws extended so that his most vulnerable and damaged area was protected and inched backward a bit, considering the femme and her perch on one of the cannons he'd just calibrated. "I have every reason. This is my home, there's a war raging around me and I'm a neutral. Which most consider worse than having a faction. I don't want trouble, I just want to be left the frag alone." He could no longer fight in the war even if he felt inclined to. He was too damaged and he wished to live.
Still, unless provoked or attacked first he couldn't really bring himself to hurt a femme. A loud growling sound echoed from his chassis, frustrated. "I certainly could. Unfortunately, all the medics familiar to me are aligned to a faction. I'm not joining up just for a medic, I've done my service."
Pulsar lept down from her perch, standing up to meet Barricade at roughly optic-level. She gazed to her hand as she extended and shortened the length of each of her fingers randomly, before turning back to him. "I can be a medic for you, if you'd like." But despite whatever response or protest Barricade had in store for such an offer, the Mutacon began to advance on him at a steady pace without warning.
Her icy blue eyes searched his frame, tasting the energy leaking from his spark chamber; a fatal condition, if left untreated. "Your spark is already undergoing decay... it is slow, but exponential nonetheless. If your great plan is to sit here and let the void take you, you're doing an excellent job of it." Pulsar stopped in her tracks, taking a moment to examine the Harbinger behind him.
"If I had to pick a tomb for myself, the husk of a once mighty warship is certainly a top choice." She stopped, bringing a hand to scratch her chin, "Though I'd be lying if I said being cast into the depths of a neutron star wasn't my favorite."
He still watched her warily, pedes spread wide to accommodate him in case he needed to suddenly retreat or fight. Fighting was his last option here, because he knew it would be his last. But he was listening to her words intently, though he decided she was aggravating him more than warranted her being around. Still, could he wrangle his temper and keep her around, if she could do what she claimed. A medic would be very beneficial to him right now.
It was her approach and the way she spoke that really got his hackles up. A peaceful medic, this one definiately was not. He hadn't even felt a medical scan going over his person, meaning she had to have some advanced scanners on her too. Okay, he could work with this. She was still listing off his injuries, and it bothered him to know that he was absolutely on his way to deactivation.
"What do you want to treat me, femme?"
@pulsar
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
Pulsar hadn't an ounce of medical instruction of her life, which might've made her claims about being able to fix him a bit bogus; there was that one Autobot medic she merged with back in the day... she couldn't quite remember her name. There were dozens of medics who came after her, too.
She took a step closer, leaning in as if examining his damage more thoroughly. "It's better if I show you rather than tell you. You Cybertronians normally don't have a handle on this sort of thing," she replied, smiling.
He considered her for a long time, his hackles up as she referred to his kind as 'you Cybertronians' meaning she wasn't one of them. So whatever she was, she wasn't like him. Meaning she wasn't likely sided with either faciton. Meaning it was allot more likely that he could trust her to do his repairs, provided he could find something to barter with. He made a choice. Trust her, he most certainly did not, but he needed her help.
He vented. "Come inside with me, I'll show you where the bay is. Walk where I walk, the place is rigged and I am not deactivating them." Those traps were his fail safe should someone get past the blasters mounted on this side of the ship. Which he remotely reactivated as soon as they got back inside. "I would appreciate your help. I just want to know what you want in exchange for your assistance."
He was cute, thinking she needed a medical bay to put her powers to work. Regardless, she humored him, following Barricade further into the ship; she wasn't about to be a rude guest, after all. Pulsar watched where her host walked carefully, as if his pathetic defenses could hope to even slow her down. Pushing aside the thought, she nevertheless continued. He finally asked the important question, one the Mutacon had been thinking of an answer to. Whether or not she helped him was entirely in his hands.
"That depends on what you have to offer me, of course. Buying off a Mutacon isn't cheap, you know."
She was lying. Mutacons were incredibly cheap, at least the ones she used to associate with were. You could have told them a bedtime story and they'd have merged with you without a second thought, provided one could even find them in the first place.
Shoutbox
Please respect the space and don't hesitate to ask questions!
altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:02:02 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:01:34 GMT
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