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Characters: Toolbox, Rodimus Location: The Autobot Scrapyard Base Content Warnings: Descriptions of anxiety symptoms, ptsd, and panic attacks Plot Summary: Rodimus comes to visit the scrapyard base and encounters the most skittish member of Team Bee.
That much Toolbox knew, but the identity of this newcomer was a mystery. Of course, if it were a bot with a Decepticon signature, the alarm would have already been sounded and the automated defense system deployed. An ugly feeling roiled in his tanks as his servos gently trembled against the command console. Logically, he knew that there was no Decepticon here, but every time he looked toward the gate, his mind conjured up images of those who had abused him, and his own self-defense programs began to erroneously kick in.
He looked anxiously around to see if there was anyone else that could tend to this situation. Alas, there was no one: the rest of the team was either off on a mission or pre-occupied with other things. The minicon vented hard, staring at the console for many long moments, before shakily hitting the link to the outside PA system.
Rodimus still wasn't sure about where he was. It was obvious that he was on Earth. How he'd gotten there was a bit of a blur, the Lost Light's travels were centered in an entirely different part of the universe than where Earth was settled.
He'd gotten a ping telling him that there was an Autobot signal nearby, and so he followed it. There was a chance that they could explain to him why he was here, and that would be helpful. Not to mention, were the humans even okay with them being here? He was under the assumption that they were supposed to vacate the planet.
When he approached what appeared to be a dump, he was met with a shaky voice asking for his designation. His systems told him that this should be the location of the Autobot signal. "Name's Rodimus. I'm an Autobot," his pointer digits designated the Autobrand on his chassis. He wasn't sure if there was even a camera he should be looking into.
Poor Toolbox stared hard at the viewscreen. The bot on the other side of the gate was completely unfamiliar to him, but judging by the scowling emblem upon his chassis, he was certainly an Autobot. ‘Rodimus…?’ He wasn’t familiar with the name, either, though this wasn’t unusual as he had a bad habit of forgetting names when he got anxious. The minicon nervously cross-checked voiceprint and appearance against his database of Decepticon inmates formerly imprisoned on the Alchemor just in case, but it was no surprise when it came up as inconclusive.
“... Alright. I-I’ll open up the gate.” And as the gate rattled open to allow this newcomer -- Rodimus -- through, Toolbox uneasily scooted backwards into his most defensible hiding spot and watched, willing his pounding spark to stop fearful whirling in its casing.
Rodimus nodded at the voice. He was sure now that they must be able to see him through some sort of camera; otherwise they would have no means of verifying his status as an Autobot. He could feel the nervous EM field giving off waves of what felt like panic, and the sensation brought a displeased frown to his face.
Something was off, though exactly what he wasn't sure.
Stepping in, he took his time glancing from place to place. It was definitely a scrapyard, that much was clear. "Uh..hello?" he questioned, knowing that someone was obviously here.
The gate rattled open and Toolbox made his wary retreat, watching as the new Autobot stepped through. Logically, he knew that if this newcomer was indeed an Autobot, he had very little to fear from him, but cycles of abuse had taught him that he could not easily trust larger bots. The minicon noticed immediately that the stranger began to scrutinize his surroundings, as if he searching out every nook and cranny for-
Something in his fuel tank twisted in alarm. His EM field flared anxiously, before he drew it in as close to his frame as possible. He hoped he had not given away his position. The little orange minicon huddled himself even further into his shelter, and tried to will his servos to not shake.
This bot was an Autobot, he reminded himself sternly. Clearly, this bot was an Autobot... unless he had lied, and it was a trick and he were a Decepticon in disguise, and how could Toolbox know now? After all, this stranger was tall, and from this vantage point, he even loomed like one of his former captors. Why else would he take his time looking from place to place, if not to search out runaway minicon slaves?
Rodimus drew close, and Toolbox, in his mounting, illogical terror, went utterly still.
Rodimus wasn't sure what exactly he was looking for. The EM field being generated was fluctuating oddly, and he couldn't really pinpoint the source until it flared. He knew the flare came from an area to his right, and so he focused his attention there. He had no idea that his actions were causing such a terror in the tiny minicon, but had he known, he would have ceased.
"Hello? I think I can feel you here? Is something wrong?" He questioned, and when the EM field disappeared from his grasp, he was confused even further. He was also afraid that something had happened to them. Was there something he should fear here? "Are you okay? I'm not here to hurt you.."
Each step Rodimus took made the ground shake, and each shake sent shudders straight through Toolbox’s wheel treads and right up his protoform, reminding him of the way his Decepticon captors stalked the halls. It was becoming hard to focus on anything but the way those shudders felt as his processor ran itself in circles. ‘I can’t stop thinking why can’t I stop thinking he’s not one of them he’s not a threat but it feels like one of them and this is crazy and why can’t I stop thinking-’
The minicon struggled to keep his venting processes quiet, but the task became increasingly difficult by the second; he was having trouble taking in air, so paralyzed in terror was he, and his internal mechanisms were quickly beginning to whine and overheat under the stress.
Rodimus’s foot tread dangerously close to his hiding spot, and Toolbox clapped a three digit hand over his mouth to stop the tiniest of whimpers from escaping. Whimpers meant you were beaten, so it was safer to keep as quiet and as still as possible.
Rodimus was starting to admittedly become distressed. His own EM field faltered from giving off calming waves, to a more distressed pattern. He was afraid that there was something here. Maybe this was an ambush. His optic ridges furrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chassis.
"Listen, if you're trying to ambush me, it isn't gonna work," he said. Although that may have been a bit of a firm statement; more firm than he could really afford to make. "I'm not here to hurt anything, I'm here because my scanners picked up an Autobot signal, and I'm all alone. I could really use the help of an ally.."
He had come to a point where reasoning with the stranger was all he could do. He had stopped moving now. Stopped walking. Stopped turning. Stopped searching. At this point, he figured it was best to stay still and simply wait for the possible attack that was coming.
His anxiety was like a black hole: the more he tried to avert it and redirect himself, the more he spiralled deeper and deeper into its insidious clutches. His fearful thoughts spiralled around and around and around in a flurry of anxiety and misery.
This stranger was obviously not a Decepticon, or a threat, but why couldn’t he convince his processor of this simple fact? The EM field against his own soured, going from gentle, calming waves to suspicion and unease. His churning fuel tanks gave a bit of a jolt at that. This stranger, Rodimus, was clearly a newcomer on Earth and in need of help, and now he was under the impression that he had walked into a trap. ‘Oh no,’ he thought, ‘Oh no, oh no, this is my fault, this is all my fault my fault my fault-’
He had to do something. “N-not an ambush,” he managed to choke out. His voice was static-filled and wavering, so he reset his vocalizer. “Not an ambush.” He repeated, slightly louder.
Rodimus heard the small voice. The other mech was afraid. The Autobot picked it up from the EM field, the reluctance to answer, and the wavering and static nature of his voice. Thinking for a moment, Rodimus decided to take a seat on the ground.
When someone was his size, it was difficult not to come across as intimidating when you were standing full height. "Am I scaring you? I did just show up, and I'm really sorry if I gave you the impression that I was going to hurt you."
He wanted to make sure that whoever he was speaking to, that they felt safer in his presence. He realized now that he may have come across as confrontational or demanding. He calmed his spark, and thus sent calming waves through his EM field. The unease from before dissipated and now settled into a more calming frequency.
What would normally be a simple misunderstanding was being blown completely out of proportion. The worst part was that Toolbox knew that Rodimus was not a Decepticon or even remotely a threat, and that he knew he was no longer a prisoner, but still, his mind roiled like an ocean in a tempest. He shook and he shook and he shook.
So consumed was he that he almost missed Rodimus slowly sinking to the ground, not too far from Toolbox’s hiding place. Never before had a larger bot brought themselves down to his level, especially not when he was having an episode. ‘He doesn’t even know me, and yet he’s willing to… sit.’
It was enough of a surprise that his thoughts - paused. He blinked. He blinked again. Calm waves washed over his EM field, and the minicon took a moment to simply just… let them.
Rodimus didn’t seem so intimidating now, and Toolbox felt incredibly guilty for causing him distress. Shakily, he rolled forward, poking his head out of his little nook. “I-” he croaked, and then reset his vocalizer. He reset it again with another loud, static-y click, and again, before he was able to get his words to cooperate. “I’m s-sorry. I d-didn’t- .. I’m s-sorry…”
Rodimus heard the sound of Toolbox's wheels moving him forward. Cautiously, he took a peak, not wanting to scare the other mech off. When Roddy took in just how absolutely tiny Toolbox was, he understood why the tiny minicon would be petrified of something as large and as foreign as him marching around.
The Autobot offered a large smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "Hey man, no need to be sorry. I'm huge compared to you. I can't imagine how much the ground must shake when someone like me walks around you. That's gotta be petrifying."
He was keeping a tone of assurance in his voice. It was obvious that the smaller mech was still very timid and anxious.
‘... Can’t imagine how much the ground must shake…’
The ground had shook every time a Decepticon overseer had come to terrorize their minicon slaves. The ground shaking had meant danger… But this was an Autobot, and his name was Rodimus, and he was not dangerous. Toolbox took in the large smile, and the friendly cant of his shoulders, and- slowly, slowly, his emergency protocols began to shut down.
His vocalizer reset yet again.“I-It was,” He croaked out, still peeking out from his nook. “I-I got scared, because it f-felt… It felt like I was b-back there…”
But he wasn’t back there. He was safe, in an Autobot base, and no one was going to hurt him. “I’m T-Toolbox, one of the… uh…” What was his position, anyways? “... I t-tend to the command centre when the others are not around.”
Rodimus wasn't entirely sure where there was, but he had to assume he should be glad that Toolbox was out. This soon after meeting him was probably a bad time to ask after where the tiny mech had been. He was obviously terrified, and asking would probably only make it worse.
"Toolbox," Roddy repeated, nodding to himself. "I'm Rodimus. Former Co-Captain of the Lost Light, Autobot warrior, previous Matrix of Leadership holder," the Autobot finally formally introduced himself.
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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