IC Time on Earth: Sat Aug 17 20:53:38 2024

You move northwest to the NCC Medical Ward.

NCC Medical Ward

The Crystal City repair bay is far larger than previous versions in Imperial Headquarters or Trypticon himself. Clearly it was designed by a medic, for a medic. The entire room is rectangular in nature with medical beds arranged in a neat grid pattern. The beds themselves vary, with some being precious little more than metal slabs, and others having full scanners and tools attached, as well as everything in between. In total, there are about twenty beds. There is room for more in an emergency situation. The cabinets line the walls, spaced out between medical terminals. Everything has a place, and organization is key. With battle mode being initiated, the huge windows are covered up as the bay is encased in metal for its own protection. Access can still be gained with the right codes, however. Red warning lights flash on and off.

Contents:

Arachnae

Comcast

Scrapper's Art <SA> - Fourteen Pieces

MSE CO OFFICE (Earth)

Gumby Medic <NCC>

Obvious exits:

South <S> leads to NCC Central Command.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Central Hub.

East <E> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Arachnae meanders out of her office.. Mostly purple and green still. Save for splashes of rich golden yellow, deep, blood shaded vermillion and touches of cerulean blue and green here and there. Someone.. it would seem, has been argueing with a paint sprayer again. She's got a mug in hand and is.. humming contentedly to herself, a very 'cat got the canary' pleased grin on her face.

Comcast is sitting on a ward bed, a fresh coat of paint on him and a half-drunk energon cube at his side. He appears to be receiving a checkup by one of the many medical assistants of MSE, and is complying. He nods in greeting to the Nae. He /knows/ this mood of hers very well.

Fleet steps in and looks around, his usual skittishness apparent. His wings have been resurfaced and repainted since the last time Arachnae saw him, as per orders. He's nearing the end of the ordered light limited duty period (the grounding having been finished eighteen hours before), but thought he should perhaps check in with medical first. Beyond that, he was pretty sure he didn't want to see real combat for at least another day.

Arachnae flicks wings behind her, taking a long sip from her mug. And then grins at Comcast as she pads over to inspect the work that had been done to him. "Greased something, hmmm?" conversational tone.

You'd think a comment like that would be offensive or embarrasing, but not for Comcast! He remembers! "I made the most fascinating discovery before, Arachnae!" He says gleefully, nearly knocking his medic over as he leans forward. "I found a way to improve the potential of a battle computer."

Since Comcast isn't exactly being quiet in his discovery, and a big purple and green and other colored semi-sweep is hard to miss, Flee certainly can hear Comcast's excited comments. He approaches the two curiously, wondering if perhaps this is information he can make use of.

Arachnae headtilts, mug partway to mouth. "Oh really?" inquisitive tone, "What is it?" She's genuinely curious.

And Comcast is genuinely happy to explain! "Reprioritize whichever part of your cerebral processor that you use to create witty comments," Comcast explains, "And it frees up space for your targetting systems. I noticed a vast improvement over my battle with Strafe and Mirage when I did."

Arachnae blinks.. and blinks again.. "You.. might want to.. make sure you put the standard memory priorities back into place, Comcast."

Fleet cocks his head slightly, narrowing his optics as he considers. "But I don't even talk during combat..." he says. Of course, he had been hitting, too. He was just getting hit in return, and it's not like he was built hardy enough to stand up to much of that.

Comcast shrugs. "Ooh, good idea.. I suppose I was looking foolish... like a foolish person." He sits there for a second staring blankly.. Scanning cerebral processor outstreams.. identifying free space.. re-establishing routine. There! "Hmm." He says looking back. "I suppose I now have to consider looking at some of those I used to command in Military in a new light. I always assumed so many of them were dullards.. but perhaps some of them were merely attempting to be better soldiers."

Fleet snorts quietly in amusement, but doesn't say anything. That may be the case with some of them, but Flee himself has been MilOps pretty much his entire existance, and he was fairly certain that some of the others were genuine dullards

Arachnae headtilts, wings flicking out behind her, reveaing a lovely splatter of shades across the panels. "NO, Comcast... Some of them were dullards. Really." Wry smirk.

Fleet's expression breaks into a grin as Arachnae voices his thoughts exactly. "I suppose as the only representative of MilOps here at the moment, I should object. But... it's hard to argue with the truth."

Comcast shrugs again. "Well, good for them. I make a point to avoid the majority of them.. it only leads to trouble."

Arachnae shakes her head, picking up a random scanner and aiming it at Comcast. Not that she doesn't trust her medteam to handle minor things. But she's a perfectionist.

Comcast also prefers being in peak condition, and appreciates the extra mile. But he /does/ make sure Arachnae isn't exclusively scanning his BrAnE after this little episode.

Fleet really has little to contribute to technical matters, and since the conversation seems to have stalled, he simply steps back a few paces so as to be out of the way.

Arachnae nods at the scan results, "You look fine Comcast. Should stay out of the air for a cycle though." She slides the scanner back on a counter and turns to rummage through a cabinet. Time to tidy herself up.

Comcast hmms. "Good to know.." He says as his medic.. let's say a green tapeling, walks away looking insulted. Finally, the curiosity gets the better of him and he points to the paint stains and streaks on the Nae, ruining her Ba-yoo-tee-full Purple and Lime Green (LIME! Not Neon, damn you Chimera) colour scheme. "Who did the sloppy painting?"

Fleet flinches noticeably. Grounding. Not something he takes too very well, and he always expects other Seekers to feel similarly, although some obviously handle it better than others. Still, it's not him anymore, so it's not his problem, either. He looks up at Arachnae, as curious as Comcast to hear her answer.

Arachnae lifts both brows behind her visor, looking herself over even as she gets out some solvent. "What? The green and purple or the rest of the mess?"

"What, the purple and Green? Nuhh.. well okay, /yes/.." Comcast explains, "But the rest of the colours too." Since the check up is finished, he decides to hop off his seat and takes a generous swig from the energon cube at his side.

Comcast also doesn't like being grounded, but he's not going to tell nae if he /does/ decide to fly, is he now?

Arachnae gets a polishing remnant and starts swiping at a particuarly wide swatch of blue. "Ahh.. Mixmaster decided that I needed an update to my usual monotone colopur scheme. Or was offering me a position in Devestator. Not sure which really." Wry smirk as she rubs at the blue streak. "The rest.. Well. I get caught up in work and have been forgetting that high pressure painting in small areas means much backlash from the target."

Fleet doesn't ask any questions on the matter himself. He recently helped lug three dead seekers back for Arachnae and didn't question that, either. Naturally, he's curious, but he's also a MilOps grunt, and knows his place. Usually.

Comcast peers at Arachnae, the 'perfectionist' who forgets to wear an apron. "Mix-who? Oh, him. Well, I guess the colour is nice for a change.." Comcast doesn't continue this line of discussion however as the alt-char rules are pretty rigid and he's afraid that talking about Mixmaster would cause the universe to implode on itself.

Arachnae gives a shrug, "Should get back to the usual blue. Since it's far easier to upkeep than dual shades." Still wiping at the splatters.

Fleet, king of duel hard-to-upkeep shades (white and pale yellow! What were the color randomizers thinking!), shrugs wings and shoulders. "Perhaps, although nothing's easy to upkeep if you're going to get other colors all over you."

Arachnae lifts brow, narrows other optic, peers over shoulder at Fleet for a moment.. "Cute." Wry tone as she wipes, "But rather true. As much as I love my work, I think I need a bigger office if I'm going to do things like this."

"Or.." Comcast interjects, "You could find another area to do your work?" Comcast /knows/ there is probably a very good reason why Arachnae would be working in her office, but he wants the satisfaction of watching her react to his question.

Arachnae snorts, "My work, My office. Why else would I have an office if not to do *my* work in it, hmmm?"

Fleet shivers slightly. That's another one of those statements that it's hard to argue with, so he simply lets Comcast and his newly-returned-to-online wit processors field it.

Comcast chuckles. "Arachnae, I have an office too. It's not very well ventilated, not very well lit for drying paint, and far too small for any kind of spraypainting. I mean no offense and I have no idea about MSE's protocol, but I'd call an area I did paperwork in an Office, and an area I did labour-based task like spraypainting a workshop."

Arachnae flicks wings, "Unfortunatly, my office doubles as my workshop.." She taps a finger to her chin, leaving a pale blue mark there. "I think I'm going to take over someone elses office and expand mine. I need the room."

And, in a far-far away part of NCC, a certain Constructicon looks up from his trumpet-playing. "Mixmaster sense.. tingling."

Comcast huhs. "That's got to be hellish when you've got datascreens in the room. Or is it ventilated enough that that's not a problem?"

Nope. Nope. Still nothing to contribute. Fleet's workspace is the arena, the sky, or the battlefield. Granted, he's not exactly a master of his craft, but still. The pastel pyramid seeker instead simply finds a nearby table on which to lean and continues to listen because, hey, it's not like he has duty so soon after his beat down two days ago, anyway.

Arachnae shrugs, "Put covers over the screens when I'm spraying. Not that there's enough room in there right now to walk."

Now Comcast is REALLY interested. "Really?" he doesn't ask anything more, but his body language shows that he would like to know what Arachnae is hiding.

Fleet imagines it's probably the dead seekers. That was what he helped Arachnae pick out not too long ago. However, he keeps his mouth shut, because it's not really his business, anyway.