Yet another intercom jingle sounded, and the nurses, anticipating the Head Doctor's orders, already began grouping around the patients as he began to speak
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The jingle from the intercom was enough to awaken the Scarecrow, who had asked to return to his room shortly after lunch- the nurse was kind enough to oblige, given the condition of his head. He thought he'd take Remy's advice and try his hand at a nap, though it occurred to him once he'd arrived in the room that he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to go about getting to sleep. After a few minutes debating whether or not he should ask his nurse how she did it, he decided to try lying on the bed quietly and closing his eyes. It seemed to work for everyone else, so why not him?
Keeping his eyes shut, while it kept out the light, did next to nothing for his head. Curse that Wizard Landel and his experiments! How someone could be so cruel as to actually want to inflict pain on perfect strangers was beyond the strawman. Even worse was that there was seemingly nothing to be done against him- the Scarecrow had been here over a week, and he was no closer to getting his body back and getting home than when he first arrived.
( ... )
roomie! \o/scalyfishmanFebruary 9 2010, 10:43:45 UTC
So Ratchet the Medic wasn't exactly the pinnacle of Autobot diplomacy and grace the history databooks liked to make out those guys were. Big deal. The real problem was that he seemed to have convinced himself that Depth Charge had a couple of wires loose in the old logic circuits- the whole 'I am from your future' thing probably hadn't helped, that was true, but like Pit he was about to lie for the sake of one measly ally's trust. That was just a little too close to politicking for his liking
( ... )
Only a few minutes after the intercom sounded, and in came Depth Charge- just the man the Scarecrow wanted to see at that moment. He'd been able to thank Sangamon Taylor at lunch, but hadn't spotted his roommate throughout the day. He gave his roommate a smile as he entered, gladder to see him than he had been in days
( ... )
The smile was a nice touch, too, but Depth Charge got the feeling that the Scarecrow was the kind of guy who'd smile at a sharkticon if he thought it might help the situation any. Still, it was the thought that counted, and in this case in counted in spades. He nodded slowly, taking in the assessment as though he had some kind of medical degree in human biology, acting like he had any idea just what was going on in the man's head.
"Don't sweat it. I just did my job." Hah. He hadn't said that in a while. Hadn't had any reason to, he supposed, unable to fight the grim little smile that crossed his face at the thought. Funny. He'd been doing so much of the hunting that he'd forgotten how rewarding the protecting could feel. "Anyway, S.T. was the real help."
If S.T. hadn't been there, he knew where he'd have ended up. Charging into that hallway in a fit to burst, trying to break down every door in sight and attracting every monster in the entire building in the process. He owed a lot to the guy
( ... )
S.T. attributed the rescue efforts to Depth Charge, who turned right around and said most of the merit went to S.T. It was as though neither man wanted to take credit for a good deed. The Scarecrow couldn't help but grin- hopefully, he'd gotten his point across to both friends, even if they were determined to out-humble each other.
"Oh believe me," he said as he looked at the other man, "I'm glad I'm still functioning, too. I'm a little worse for wear, but the fact that my brain is working at all is something to be thankful for." True, his thinker still had some issues- especially with that clever little thing- but it wasn't a complete loss. And possibly broken or not, at least he had a brain! That had to be worth something. "Human bodies are fantastic, but I do worry sometimes that I'm going to ruin it."
He glanced at the door, thinking about what he was saying and the dangers of the Institute. "Will you be going out tonight?"
Forget smiling at a sharkticon. Depth Charge didn't think he'd seem anyone so purely optimistic in a long while. Whatever it was about him that kept him so upbeat, though, it was contagious- the smile on his own face was still there.
Then again, something in the back of his processor added, you thought that about Luffy, too, and that didn't protect him. You can't arm yourself with a good mood.
Riled, he brushed it away as quickly as possible before he could think about it too much. "Gonna have to disagree with you there," he answered, perhaps a little quickly. "I'd give anything to be back in a metal body again. This piece of junk'll have to do, though- I'm hitting the basement tonight. What about you?"
"I think I might just stay in here tonight," he answered honestly, his mind still on witches and wizards and the somethings that lurked in the halls. They were much more effective at scaring folks than he was, human body or not. Plus, with his brain in less-than-perfect condition, it was probably best to play it safe and not make any rash, body-ruining endeavors for a while.
It was one of those times he regretted his human condition: with a straw body, he was nearly indestructible, with his only foe being fire (and by association, those who could conjure it); however, humans and all their senses were much more fragile. That fragility made him aware of what he could and couldn't do, simultaneously leaving him unsure of what he should and shouldn't do.
"Maybe a night of rest will help it along," he said. "Or at least give me some time to put my thoughts together. I've got a lot more on my mind than I'd like at this point. Leaves me feeling like I was better off not havin' a brain at all, and I know that can't be right."
Depth Charge's shoulders- tensed though they were- slackened a little at the news, as though the strings holding them up had suddenly been snipped. Thank Primus for that. The last thing he wanted was the knowledge that the Scarecrow was going to be wandering around the Institute all night in that condition plaguing him all night. He'd have been a prime target for attack, easy pickings for any monster on the prowl. Hah- the Maximal might even have ended up being tempted away from his basement trip. Maybe
( ... )
Keeping his eyes shut, while it kept out the light, did next to nothing for his head. Curse that Wizard Landel and his experiments! How someone could be so cruel as to actually want to inflict pain on perfect strangers was beyond the strawman. Even worse was that there was seemingly nothing to be done against him- the Scarecrow had been here over a week, and he was no closer to getting his body back and getting home than when he first arrived. ( ... )
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"Don't sweat it. I just did my job." Hah. He hadn't said that in a while. Hadn't had any reason to, he supposed, unable to fight the grim little smile that crossed his face at the thought. Funny. He'd been doing so much of the hunting that he'd forgotten how rewarding the protecting could feel. "Anyway, S.T. was the real help."
If S.T. hadn't been there, he knew where he'd have ended up. Charging into that hallway in a fit to burst, trying to break down every door in sight and attracting every monster in the entire building in the process. He owed a lot to the guy ( ... )
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"Oh believe me," he said as he looked at the other man, "I'm glad I'm still functioning, too. I'm a little worse for wear, but the fact that my brain is working at all is something to be thankful for." True, his thinker still had some issues- especially with that clever little thing- but it wasn't a complete loss. And possibly broken or not, at least he had a brain! That had to be worth something. "Human bodies are fantastic, but I do worry sometimes that I'm going to ruin it."
He glanced at the door, thinking about what he was saying and the dangers of the Institute. "Will you be going out tonight?"
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Then again, something in the back of his processor added, you thought that about Luffy, too, and that didn't protect him. You can't arm yourself with a good mood.
Riled, he brushed it away as quickly as possible before he could think about it too much. "Gonna have to disagree with you there," he answered, perhaps a little quickly. "I'd give anything to be back in a metal body again. This piece of junk'll have to do, though- I'm hitting the basement tonight. What about you?"
Reply
It was one of those times he regretted his human condition: with a straw body, he was nearly indestructible, with his only foe being fire (and by association, those who could conjure it); however, humans and all their senses were much more fragile. That fragility made him aware of what he could and couldn't do, simultaneously leaving him unsure of what he should and shouldn't do.
"Maybe a night of rest will help it along," he said. "Or at least give me some time to put my thoughts together. I've got a lot more on my mind than I'd like at this point. Leaves me feeling like I was better off not havin' a brain at all, and I know that can't be right."
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