illdriveyoushoot: (Default)
[personal profile] illdriveyoushoot posting in [community profile] red_diode_district
She takes the bus now, more often than not.

She'd sold her old bike, dragged her dad off for a 'new start'; pretty much vanished off the grid for a while. Mikaela had done as much as she'd been allowed to do, to get away and keep from being found.

Keep from being found by her friends, at least.

A part of her - the bitter part - is sometimes upset that they never did. That they never tried, never suspected. But then again, the way she had broken up with Sam, real and so very angry...

That same bitter part, while upset, isn't surprised she'd been so easily forgotten.

And then Chicago had happened, freedom had come with a price for everyone, and...

Well. Being left alone was more understandable, after that.

So now Mikaela takes the bus, to and from her little backwoods, podunk gas station/convenience store/one-car garage quick-e-mart, the best she can get on just a highschool degree in this economy, expunged record or not. She does register and occasional garage work, and she has a good shot at making manager in the spring. Her dad has his own place, finally, moving in with a woman with little patience and no tolerance for his crap.

She's too good for him, and Mikaela is happy for them.

But being on her own leaves her with too much time to think, and despite no lack of offers, hints, and the same old innuendos, she's had no one since Sam. She's lonely, and alone in a world where no one remembers or cares who she is or what she's given up.

In short, it sucks, and playing at 'normal' isn't at all what it's cracked up to be.

Date: 2014-09-02 10:17 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
It does have him look back down at her, audials twitching slightly as he regards her form. Another might ask, demand how someone so small could even think they could help.

Optimus, knowing better, only nods in acknowledgement/acceptance and offers the faintest of smiles.

"You already have."

Date: 2014-09-03 04:42 am (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
Thin smile still present, Optimus begins to lower his other hand from the ceiling- then pauses, smile fading. Her...pliers?

They're small. Smaller than her. How is he to?

And then she asks him to reach for the 'shop vac', an item with which he is only loosely familiar, and the semi-bewildered expression as he looks near him speaks for itself. The what?

Date: 2014-09-04 08:53 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
"Ah."

Unfortunately, there is indeed too many little pieces for Optimus to tell offhand whether or not something's added to them- he can, at least, carefully reach for the (comparatively) tiny tool. Gingerly picking it up between thumb and forefinger, he manages to get it over to Mikaela without (as far as he can tell) damaging it.

"Ratchet always preferred his own devices."

While Mikaela certainly took to his lessons with ease, there's something to be said about the capabilities of different species...

Date: 2014-09-05 01:19 am (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
Duct tape's adhesive had a habit of gunking up the inner lines with open wounds; in minor tears, though, there were little to no ill effects.

Optimus reaches for the shop vac next, then pauses, suddenly more aware of Mikaela's presence. "Would it be easier for you if I laid down?" he asks, looking back over his shoulder.

Date: 2014-09-05 04:26 am (UTC)
oneshallstand: (that all this time)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
"Perhaps as I had not offered." But familarity has returned, a little; Mikaela was hardly the most common of medics but he had gotten used to her, comfortable with her, and now once again he's trying to work with her. Shifting to follow the instruction, a somewhat sore Optimus eases himself down, half-propping himself up with his forearms at his sides.

The position allows him to keep optics on the other, and, indeed, to push himself up quickly if need be.

Date: 2014-09-05 05:03 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (wouldn't let it show)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
Optimus almost misses her expression; he only catches the tail end of the reaction before she reaches for the hose, and wonders if he'd even seen it at all.

Mikaela certainly seems true to memory; despite his soreness, he does feel a bit better now that most of the smaller pieces have been removed. Once the others are eased away-

-urf.

He goes still, grimacing as what feels like tiny grains lash around the line as they're sucked by the hose. It's a far from pleasant feeling, but he'll endure.

Date: 2014-09-05 07:45 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
No more than expected, he wants to say, but he nods through his grimace to at least let her know she's heard him. Having lived through a war so long, he thinks he understands the difference between pain-as-result-of-helping as opposed to pain-as-result-of-helping-actually-harming; the former isn't worth bringing up.

The problem is they're pretty close to one another, and sometimes you can mistake all for one. Which, combined with his 'be quiet and take it' attitude, which Ratchet considers both a blessing and a curse...

His hands slowly clench on the ground, the mixture of pain and simple discomfort a rather unpleasant combination. Which makes it all the more surprising when Mikaela nudges the nozzle, and it briefly manages to catch one of the smaller lines, bringing it in to suck-

Optimus Prime full on jerks in surprise at that, a brief, staticky sound escaping him. That was not pain.

Date: 2014-09-10 03:35 am (UTC)
oneshallstand: (that all this time)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
"It's-"

Surprising? Shocking. And then done, and Optimus exvents once before forcing himself to relax.

"-nothing. It is nothing." He shakes his helm, trying to reassure her. "I am fine, and- I apologize for alarming you."

She didn't do it on purpose, after all. He makes a long blink as he half-reaches for the metal near her vacuum- not to pull it away, mind. Only to reassure himself.

"One of the inner wires was caught, I think."
Edited Date: 2014-09-10 03:35 am (UTC)

Date: 2014-09-17 05:14 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
"I'm fine," Optimus said again, trying to reassure her. Maybe needlessly, but just in case she worried. He met that gaze and nodded, lowering his hand once more to settle himself and trying not to tense-

-the wire didn't catch again, and at least for the moment, he was able to avoid another...mishap. His fans, which he'd been keeping still, slowly whirred back on as he...well, didn't so much relax as ease the subtle tension.

Date: 2014-09-22 06:20 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (i've been afraid)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
Ratchet knows better to expect any different. (But that wouldn't keep the medic from scolding him.)

There's a few more reactions, but only in terms of grimaces; they're better than other faces he can make. And he's clenching his jaw tightly as she pushes it in further- yes, there's discomfort, but more, the rush of air through all those parts, sucking up the loose debris?

He'll be glad when this is over.

Date: 2014-09-23 05:37 pm (UTC)
oneshallstand: (Default)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
A heavy rattle of his fans is the first answer she gets. A moment later, Optimus reaches up to rub at his face; his hand covers his shifts of expression. "...I believe that may have been the worst one," he notes, doing some quick system scans. "The others - given time and fuel - should be able to handle themselves if necessary."

It's a way out, if she's uncomfortable; Allspark knows Optimus knows better than to outright refuse further aid. But either way, he will need some fuel sooner or later, he notes with a frown. There's only so much heavy recharge can help with; new energy will have to come from somewhere.

Date: 2014-09-30 01:40 am (UTC)
oneshallstand: (and i)
From: [personal profile] oneshallstand
Optimus meets her gaze silently, but only speaks after she's done. He's continuing to mull over it all, torn between reason and stubbornness.

Ratchet would have likely hit him by now, he thinks, for even suggesting such a thing. He exvents, dimming his optics as he leans back again.

"I can bear it," he answers, to what is unclear. "I will not say no to your aid, but I will not ask more than you are willing to give."

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