Reuinions and Revelations
WHO: swordofpeace and schrodingersbot
WHAT: Finally released from the Hooskau (outworlder jail), Wing runs into one roommate.
WHERE: Perceptor's Clinic
WHEN: Backdated to before the Halloween Event,
WARNINGS/NOTES: Flailing scientist, worn down jet. Schmoop likely.
Without the impetus of being home for the company - Hot Rod was certainly company when he was there, but a bit... frenetic for Perceptor's tastes - Perceptor had taken to adopting his normal working hours while Wing is still incarcerated. That was to say, spending most of his waking hours at the clinic, working on whatever projects that were brought to him by whomever sought his services, and heading home every other day or so.
Sometimes.
He'd spent a few rest cycles tucked away in a corner of the clinic itself, rather than return to the too-quiet apartment, much as he had in the years he'd lived on Earth aboard the Ark. When space was a premium, it was often simply more advantageous to live in his laboratory, rather than take up another room for living quarters. While space wasn't the issue here, the quiet was. Even the dramatic programming he'd attempted to watch on their entertainment center had not been able to fill the silence.
He could not completely abandon the apartment, however. Wing might yet return home some night, and Perceptor vowed to be there to look after him. Besides, someone responsible needed to look after their apartment now and then, purely to ensure that it had not, nor would not spontaneously combust.
Vow or not, though, Perceptor was still one to lose track of time, and the puzzle of Issac's notes was intriguing enough to occupy him so thoroughly that it wasn't until late, late in the night, perhaps closer to dawn than dusk, that Perceptor finally keyed off the equipment and lights, secured the door, and began his trek back to their apartment.
He was not alone, however, on those late night streets. Ahead, another lone traveler walked slowly in the same direction, the dim lights of the city around them casting an ashen pall across the mech's pale armor. It wasn't until Perceptor had trailed the mech for nearly a block that it suddenly struck him... that he was following Wing.
He hadn't recognized him without the Greatsword tucked along the channel down Wing's back.
"Wing!?"
WHAT: Finally released from the Hooskau (outworlder jail), Wing runs into one roommate.
WHERE: Perceptor's Clinic
WHEN: Backdated to before the Halloween Event,
WARNINGS/NOTES: Flailing scientist, worn down jet. Schmoop likely.
Without the impetus of being home for the company - Hot Rod was certainly company when he was there, but a bit... frenetic for Perceptor's tastes - Perceptor had taken to adopting his normal working hours while Wing is still incarcerated. That was to say, spending most of his waking hours at the clinic, working on whatever projects that were brought to him by whomever sought his services, and heading home every other day or so.
Sometimes.
He'd spent a few rest cycles tucked away in a corner of the clinic itself, rather than return to the too-quiet apartment, much as he had in the years he'd lived on Earth aboard the Ark. When space was a premium, it was often simply more advantageous to live in his laboratory, rather than take up another room for living quarters. While space wasn't the issue here, the quiet was. Even the dramatic programming he'd attempted to watch on their entertainment center had not been able to fill the silence.
He could not completely abandon the apartment, however. Wing might yet return home some night, and Perceptor vowed to be there to look after him. Besides, someone responsible needed to look after their apartment now and then, purely to ensure that it had not, nor would not spontaneously combust.
Vow or not, though, Perceptor was still one to lose track of time, and the puzzle of Issac's notes was intriguing enough to occupy him so thoroughly that it wasn't until late, late in the night, perhaps closer to dawn than dusk, that Perceptor finally keyed off the equipment and lights, secured the door, and began his trek back to their apartment.
He was not alone, however, on those late night streets. Ahead, another lone traveler walked slowly in the same direction, the dim lights of the city around them casting an ashen pall across the mech's pale armor. It wasn't until Perceptor had trailed the mech for nearly a block that it suddenly struck him... that he was following Wing.
He hadn't recognized him without the Greatsword tucked along the channel down Wing's back.
"Wing!?"