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Characters: @lightspeed and @tarn Location: Engineering/Science Bay Content Warnings: N/A Plot Summary: Lightspeed is busy going through things in the lab she is setting up and organizing when she comes across Tarn and conversation ensues.
Lightspeed dragged with great effort a large box of spare parts and tools down the hall to her new Laboratory, grunting in annoyance as she had to continue stopping and taking breaks. She most certainly was not built for heavy lifting. Resuming the task at servo, she glanced behind her to see the Engineering Bay coming into sight, a sigh of relief passing her painted red lips. She tightened her grip around the handle, making a mental note not to try to take so much material in one trip next time and heaving again, this time beginning to make some headway. Her arms ached from the tension, and finally, right near the door, this tension knocked her straight onto her aft, her pedes pressing against the box she'd been trying to move.
She heard laughter, turning her head sharply she sent a steely glare at the vehicons passing by, who quickened their pace. Best not to anger the provoke able femme. She brushed herself off and got to her pedes with another displeased grumble, muttering under her breath as she picked it up by both ends now and dragged it inside her lab, leaving it in the middle of the floor about five feet in. She shook her arms out, tilting her helm to either side to release tension and running her servos over her face, sighing deeply. She hated the feeling of being embarrassed, usually she was so graceful in her movements, but today was not her lucky day.
"Primus, help me. Next time don't take such a large load." She spoke to herself outloud, inwardly scolding herself for not thinking ahead and overestimating her capability.
“Perhaps next time, I or another might assist you,” a smooth, melodic and dark voice said as its owner swept into the room with his customary amount of elegance. Tarn walked over, his heavy footsteps echoing softly as he bent down and swept the box of spare parts up in one arm. “I assume this does not go in the middle of the floor,” he continued, glancing around idly, “Where is your workstation?”
Crimson optics fell upon Lightspeed. This was the new engineer that would be joining Lord Megatron’s present conquest, was it? He had done some research – reading her files and such – but there was so much that files left out. So much that could only be assessed by meeting with them in person.
Tarn had actually intended to visit with her, so this worked out rather well. He had just been passing by, wandering in his usual rounds about the Nemesis. Something seemed unfamiliar about the Decepticon flagship, and it had been bothering him for some time, so often, he would roam the halls while filing his paperwork or reading files and reports. It was a pleasant enough recreation.
Of all things, she did not expect a surprise visit from the great Tarn that day. Her spark nearly leapt out of her chassis in surprise, turning, she gazed up at the dark mech. Her sandy gold optics widened, had he seen her catastrophe of a fail? She remembered falling on her aft, which still ached slightly but was nothing much, though the reminder brought a soft blush to bloom on her cheeks. She ducked her helm, she liked to think she was strong, she had always wanted to be, but she never knew how much she could and couldn't do. Next time she'd ask the strong mech before her, Tarn, who so easily hoisted the box and held it in one arm. She gazed back up at him sheepishly with an embarrassed smile. "That would be nice. I'm not built for that kind of thing..." She gestured at the box he held, shaking her helm with a slight chuckle. "No, it does not, this table right over here would be fine, thank you. You are Tarn, correct? It's a pleasure to meet you in person, sir."
Lightspeed pointed to the table closest to her and strode over to it, clearing a space so he could plant it down on top of the smooth, metallic surface. She felt so ashamed, such a high ranking officer paying her a visit and her workspace was a complete disaster! She fumbled with her tools, her servos shaking as she knew he was probably judging her as most of the higher ups did, assessing if she really was necessary. Of course, she was the Engineering and technology officer, but it had less glory than something in combat or communications, or even science. She cleaned up her table as best she could before she turned around, realizing she had all but forgotten he was there in her rush and smiled again in an effort to excuse herself. She wasn't used to them just dropping by like this, usually Megatron or Starscream would comm her before visiting. But, now she was on the ship, and she had to be ready for them. She mentally noted that she would have to be organized by the time Megatron checked on her progress. "Do you need anything manufactured, sir?"
“I am Tarn, and the pleasure is mutual,” Tarn purred as he followed her along to what he assumed was her workstation, setting the box down there easily. He watched her fumble about a touch embarrassed as she hastened to clean her work space. Ah, that would not do. As she turned about to ask him if he required anything, he waved dismissively.
“Oh no, I just happened to be passing by,” he murmured, optics drifting over her work space until they finally settled upon Lightspeed once more.
Leaning down and gently pressing one of his fingers to her chin to tilt her head upward, Tarn examined her with gentle optics. “You needn’t fret so much, my dear.” He waited to see how she reacted to his touch. “You are just setting things up, aren’t you? Getting settled in? I admit to some curiosity. Won’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
The purr that resonated from the larger mech caused the femme to tense, a shiver tickling her body. Why? She couldn't tell, but she knew she was bound to find out sooner or later, and she wasn't going to push a bad position by overthinking things. She sighed in relief, glad to hear that the tone in his voice was neither judging nor stern. But, as he was just passing by, she wondered if he'd been sent there by one of the higher ups to ask for her to give a report. She truthfully had nothing in that moment, as of course, she had only recently moved workstations and it would be preposterous to expect results so soon, but she didn't think he was like that. He gave her a different vibe, almost, trusting.
As the tip of his finger found its way under her chin so that she met his optics, her own counterparts widened slightly, that is, before she determined he was consoling her. She relaxed, nodding slowly as if to try and calm down. It was just different, large mechs, even large femmes had the potential to hurt her, and Decepticons tended to be unpredictable. For the first time she smiled, radiantly if I might add, and responded, "Oh, you don't mean to concern yourself with things as simple as that... But I suppose, I could enlighten you? I'm part Velocitronian for one, I used to be a messenger for the High Council until the war began. I work mostly with technology but I have worked on weapons before, such as weaponized diseases, the cortical psychic patch, etcetera. I love to dance and race, but, oh my, I must be rambling. I do apologize. And you, sir? Do you mind me asking?
At first, it seemed as if Tarn had frightened the femme with his gesture, but, after a moment, she managed to relax when she realized that he did not mean to threaten or berate her. In fact, she smiled quite brilliantly as if she were finally getting accustomed to his presence. Well, for that much, he was relieved. He certainly did not want to make her uncomfortable.
However, the first words out of her vocalizer were ones that denied Tarn the answer to his query. Lightspeed quickly went on to indulge him. Part Velocitronian, mm? From the colony. Tarn had never been there himself, but he had heard tell of there being newly discovered colonies. How wonderful it was that some of them saw fit to join the Decepticons! Tarn was positively tickled.
Ah, and her portfolio was most impressive, though Tarn was familiar with it. His head tilted a little bit at the mention of her liking to dance before she flipped his question back on himself. Pulling away from Lightspeed, Tarn rubbed his chin with a digit, pondering how to answer.
“You may know this already, but I am a justice appointed by Lord Megatron himself to preside over war criminals. Aside from that, I must admit I have a few of my own vices. Music and literature are two of the more prevalent ones. I do enjoy a good vintage of energon as well, I must admit.”
With warmth in his voice, Tarn looked down at Lightspeed, gesturing to her.
“But I am curious. You said you danced? Would you care to dance?”
Tarn continued to puzzle her, make her more and more curious. Not that it was a bad thing, it made her engaged in the conversation, and wanting to figure him out. As he stepped back and stroked his chin, she subconsciously leaned her hip to the side while listening to him enlighten her in what exactly his work was. Before then she'd been confused as to what it was, what it entailed, but it turned out he'd explained it quite nicely. War criminals, so he dealt with Autobots, Neutrals, and Traitors?
She snorted, Dreadwing coming to mind, she gazed up at him with wide golden optics. Was he one of the cons assigned then to take care of him? Last she saw of the honorable [ironically] Decepticon he had fled from the Nemesis because he no longer believed in their ideals. Thinking about it caused her to shake her helm, sighing softly. What a poor choice, at least, in her processor it was.
So he liked music and literature, he was cultural after all. She liked that. Lightspeed had to agree with him on his last statement, she could use some in fact after all that had happened in such a short time period. The femme nodded, yes, she absolutely loved to dance, and she wasn't half bad at it either. Though she used to be, she could remember all the lessons and practice it took as to not step on a partner's pedes and move along to the beat of music. She was a bit taken aback as he asked her to dance, smiling sheepishly, she nodded, taking a small step forward while gazing up at the taller mech with a delicate smile.
Lightspeed had snorted at his explanation of his profession. Tarn wondered at that, but did not press. After all, he was quite enjoying their exchange of pleasantries. And – how delightful – she seemed all too willing to dance. As she stepped forward, Tarn extended a hand to her, taking her more delicate hand in his own.
“Hm, I know a rather lovely piece,” Tarn murmured thoughtfully.
“It is called the Empyrean Suite. Are you familiar with it?” he asked, looking down at her, “If not, don’t fret. I’ll lead you through the piece.”
Wrapping an around Lightspeed’s torso and pulling the femme closer, Tarn began to play the music. It began slow and lilting. Leading Lightspeed in the dance, he kept his crimson optics on her. He hummed softly along with the music in his low melodic rumble, trying to be quiet so as to not mar the music.
As the music swept up in tempo and into fuller orchestration, Tarn, still gently, led Lightspeed along at a slightly faster gait, taking care so as to not catch her off guard.
The femme smiled as he mentioned the Empyrean Suite, one of the first pieces her instructor had played, but she had never been able to keep in step to. Luckily she'd come a way from then and took to it as soon as they began dancing. Her servo molded well into his and the Suite began playing. She sighed softly, gazing up at him, she kept her golden optics on his.
"You're a wonderful dancer," She commented idly, making sure not to step on his pedes.
Lightspeed listened to the music joyously, her spark beating quicker than she willed it. She matched his pace as the tempo became slightly quicker, nearly forgetting a step but in the nick of time she remembered it and covered up her slight hesitation. Her smile widened, tilting her helm and nodding.
Tarn merely nodded in acknowledgement at her comment. “I strive to be knowledgeable about…things that please me,” he replied blithely, glanced down at her, crimson optics glinting briefly. Releasing her briefly to twirl Lightspeed around, Tarn welcomed her back into his grasp as they continued their little waltz of sorts.
“Well, I’m glad to be able to provide you an opportunity,” he purred.
Swinging around as the music dictated, Tarn looked ahead thoughtfully. “Though I wonder why you’d deny yourself. Aren’t such pleasures worth partaking in frequently? Perhaps I’m a touch over indulgent though.” He glanced down at Lightspeed, taking in her golden optics. “Do you think?”
Giggling softly at his response, she followed him as he loosely twirled her outward and then back in. She placed her servo back on his upper arm, swaying her hips as she began to relax as they danced on. He was in fact a good dancer, which was curious, as he was such an imposing mech she wouldn't expect his personality.. His fine interest in the arts.
There went another shiver throughout her body as he purred, the sound of his voice soothing to her audio receptors. "Y-yes thank you."
Lightspeed thought for a moment about his question, "Well," She paused for a moment, "I suppose I just haven't had the time sir- I-I mean Tarn. I've been so focused on work..." She sighed deeply.
“An admirable pursuit,” Tarn acknowledged, continuing their little waltz, “But a little diversion helps to refresh the mind and often the body.” Swinging Lightspeed out again then bringing her close and lifting her feet off of the floor with a sweeping motion, Tarn hummed gently.
“I suspect the Nemesis must appear rather daunting to one who had never served on it before,” Tarn pondered aloud, glancing down to Lightspeed, “No?”
“A symbol of the very Decepticon cause…” he mused, "I trust you'll tend to it as best you can. In between diversions, of course."
Lightspeed listened to him as he spoke, focusing on him now because now that she was relaxed the dancing came much more easily to her. She felt so excited to be dancing again; and the pleasant mech only made it better. Then she remembered, she must have come off as so rude when she felt the need to explain herself. "About earlier, when you were speaking of your job," She paused briefly, "I wasn't snorting at you I was just.. Thinking. About Dreadwing. I was wondering if you were on his case? My apologies, Tarn..."
She almost squeaked as he lifted her so easily off of the ground, but voted to remain calm, as he clearly had the situation under control. She gazed up at him, nodding. "Of course, Tarn, I'll make sure to take breaks then. In between working of course."
Tarn’s optics momentarily flickered, and he stiffened briefly at the mention of Dreadwing. But in the next instant, it was as if nothing had happened as he spun around with Lightspeed in hand. “Yes, I am. No apologies needed. And you needn’t worry about him. My associates and I will bring him to justice soon enough.”
“We will be there whenever he seeks to strike against the Decepticons. You’ll be quite safe, I assure you,” Tarn offered confidently.
As the Empyrean Suite drew to a close, Tarn released Lightspeed, holding onto her hand lightly as both the music and their dance finished. “You are a marvelous dancer, Lightspeed. You ought to give yourself more credit,” Tarn purred, nodding his head to her. “It was a pleasure.”
Shoutbox
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altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
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