Adjustment of character, 8
Yay more of this. Have a very awkward shower. AWKWARD... ^^;
The wash-racks were fairly empty, most mechs having used them after the battle or before fueling. There were still some mechs standing under the shower-heads, mostly grounders. Roadstead missed having a true Seeker barrack here, and determined to make a stop in Vos while he was showing Amber around the empire. He missed his home...
“Wow. This is like... gym showers, or something. It's... not as bad as I expected...” Amber said, looking around. She squeaked a moment later, looking away from a mech who was cleaning off his interface equipment.
“You're still sealed, since you were virgin, so you don't have to worry about that. It's just a matter of keeping everything clean, though. It has to be done, and there's no other place, or a reason not to clean here,” Roadstead said.
What Roadstead hadn't told Amber as they crossed the base again was that, in the course of teaching her, he was likely to overload her at least once. It was a function of her form, and was probably unavoidable, even though he did plan to be as 'professional' as he could be. He would have to let her break eventually, as well, but he would prefer to hold that off until she was recolored and they were off planet. There was less patience for Sues than there was for other OCs, but away from those who had seen this... well, she could afford to break then.
"I... see..." Amber murmured, looking at the floor. She allowed herself to be positioned near a faucet, and yelped when Roadstead turned it on cold.
The brown Seeker smirked at her. "It's a faucet. You know how to work these. Set the temp." They really did work just the same as a human faucet, because it was a fairly simple and logical way to set things up.
That brough a strangled laugh from Amber, with a slight edge of hysteria, but the femme complied. The water was still cooler than Roadstead liked it, but it wasn't painful and so he was willing to let that go.
"Okay. We usually use our own cloths, and you'll be getting some, don't worry. Here." Subspace was another thing that could cause headaches and full-out processor locks in OCs who thought about it too hard. Roadstead didn't, simply reaching in and pulling out a cloth. "The water already has a mild cleanser in it, so go ahead and start rubbing down, and then I'll point out any place you're missing."
Amber began to do so, a little hesitantly. It was probably the first time she'd really faced how she had changed, and Roadstead was silent for a while, letting the femme work. She avoided her panel area, and wings, and stopped short of her thrusters as well.
"Not bad. Here, lean your back against the wall and I'll show you how to get the thrusters. You also need to get under your seams better, and as long as you're in a Seeker-frame, you will need help to get your back well. You can get the worst of a mess off, but that's not acceptable for long-term," Roadstead said when Amber stopped, then waited for her to comply.
"...Mess?" Amber asked, shivering as her wings contacted the cooler, smooth wall. She didn't fight as Roadstead knelt and lifted one pink and silver and red and gold foot. She shivered again as he started to prod it, working his claw-tips into the joints and thrusters. He was careful, but efficient, and glad that she hadn't really picked up much dirt even after tramping around the battlefield.
Roadstead belatedly remembered he'd been asked something, and shook his head. "Dirt and dust and possibly carbon from shots, and grease and oil... You're fine right now, but that stuff will build up without help, and eventually it'll mess with your flying. Which, I have to take you out for that, too..."
"Oh. I guess it would... umm..." Amber looked at Roadstead, who was patiently working his way up her leg. The sound she made was not entirely in confusion, but Roadstead did his best to ignore that. Thrusters shouldn't be that nice, anyway... "I'm going to get to fly?"
"Of course you are. You're in a flight frame. It'll be a good way to find out just how much of your spark is a flier's, if it is at all." Roadstead checked his work, then put down Amber's foot and stood, pulling her away from the wall. "Wings now. You'll have to get your panel later."
He took the front side of the broad wing first. It was a simple matter to lave the metal clean, rubbing hard enough to flex it slightly. The work was so familiar as to be nearly mindless, even as the metal under Roadstead's hands heated.
"It's the seams you really have to get here," the brown Seeker said as he reached them, lifting Amber's arm for access to the wide armor gap. "This is also where you really don't want to get shot. Even with the armor here..." his fingers grazed it, "the actual gap is big, and more importantly, the systems under it are delicate and vital. You've got a lot of flight systems, and then there's your fuel systems... It's not a good place to get hit. Not that any place really is."
Amber didn't answer, optics a little unfocused and gaze lagging as she tried to follow what Roadstead was doing. He moved to her other wing, and the cool water was starting to steam off her frame before he finished that one. He paused then, because he was trying to be professional.
"You... mm, you tricked me..." Amber muttered after a moment, looking at him. Her optics were darker than they had been, and Roadstead knew that she was aroused. He shook his head.
"No. Arousal is unavoidable in your frame. You're also not used to it, so it seems worse than it is. I'm not going to do anything more than finish teaching you, and if you overload from that, I won't even tease." It would be best for her if she were not ashamed of her reactions, after all.
"You should have warned me."
"It's less when you wash yourself. You didn't ask what effects this might have on you, and I have no obligation to warn. Relax. You'll be left alone for now, and we won't be here long." As Roadstead spoke, he turned her around, thought he stopped before trapping her against the wall. That might make her panic, so it would be better to risk falling, he thought.
There was not really much he could teach about this, though. He showed Amber the back-sponges, but didn't let her use them, because they really weren't very good. "Helios need help for this too, usually. Their rotor-arrays make blind scrubbing even more chancy, so most don't even bother." As he spoke, he dug into the cables, making sure everything was as it should be. He wasn't surprised that they were. Coding was messed up from translation, but the frames OCs started in were usually near-perfect.
Amber didn't seem to really be in any condition to listen. She was mewling, twitching away from him and into him. Roadstead knew it was a fight between her body and mind, and tried to respect her desires. It was very odd, cleaning a Seeker-frame who did not want to be pleasured.
The femme was still trembling when Roadstead finished, and he knew everyone in the wash-racks was watching. Most of the original mechs had stayed when they saw him come in, and more had followed, from curiosity or a genuine need to bathe as well. It didn't matter, though... "Amber. I'm done. You might want to turn the water colder so you don't overheat if you plan to let your charge fade instead of releasing it."
Her response was to spread her wings, not the best of ideas as they shook from want. She was probably trying to intimidating him, either mimicking what he had done or her coding acting on her emotional state. Either way, it increased the surface area for the water to stream down. Amber glared at him the entire time her chassis cooled, and Roadstead just watched her in return.
About the time Amber's wings stopped shivering, she looked away. Roadstead gave her a few more moments, and then turned off the water and pulled her over to the dry racks. Moving air and a towel would dry her... and might restart the whole probably again. It would depend on how reactive she was to air.
"So what's... the whole deal with, um. Starscream, and... He can command you- er, Seekers, um, you said... those with a Seeker... spark? But you're not sure I... am?" Amber asked, apparently trying to distract herself from the process.
"He doesn't simply order to test because he doesn't really like to," Roadstead answered, preempting the actual question. "In my case, he was angry because I was sobbing like some gormless sparkling. Anyway, the question is much less whether or not you're a Seeker and more whether or not you're a flier at all. There's no harm in letting you wear our frame while we figure that out. You are getting repainted, though. Think about colors." Amber listened, though her wings were shaking again by the time she was dry. That was very likely to cause problems later, just from running so hot.
She was also giving him a bit of a hard look. Roadstead wasn't sure why the femme was looking at him as though he had insulted her... "But you got angry when I had problems, and you did the same thing, and-"
Oh. Well, maybe that was an insult... Roadstead shrugged a little. "I never said I didn't. And I said Starscream was mad at me, so there. You acted like I did, I acted like he did. I told you, we're not the soft side. ...Come on. Let's see if flying makes you feel better. Metro' is filling out the paperwork requesting leave and transport around the empire."
Slowly, Amber softened, reaching to take the hand that Roadstead was offering. They only went a few steps into the main square, and then Roadstead pulled her close and took off. She was heavier than another Seeker, because of the Sue backstory, but Roadstead was built for endurance more than speed, and was able to carry her.
Not that doing so helped Amber to fly. "Turn on your thrusters. You have the form and the coding. Fly." Roadstead does not add that if she hasn't started to lift herself in a couple thousand feet, he'll drop her. That would needlessly frighten her.
He fell, for a moment, looking up at Sunrain in shock. And then every instinct he had, everything which had caused his dreams all his life, came rushing to the fore. The wind buffeted him, thrusters engaged, and he flew, playing with the air as though it were an old friend. There is a flash of green and yellow, and then Sunrain is playing with him.
Roadstead shook his head, clearing away the memory. He couldn't play until he was sure that Amber could, or at the least until he knew she wouldn't fall out of the sky. She still hadn't followed his advice, though. She was looking around, or at her own wings... Roadstead huffed, going higher. He wanted to have time to catch her if he had to drop her.
If she did very badly, if flight was an anathema to her... Roadstead wasn't sure what he would do. It was standard to just remove the frame's wings until a full reformat could be obtained, but he wasn't sure he would be able to teach her like he had been charged to when she looked like that. But then, it wouldn't be his fault, and Starscream would understand-
Worries were broken by the sound and feel of another thruster, and then Amber was pulling away from him. She was taking to the air on her own, and Roadstead relaxed. She had very little instinctive grace, the playfulness which marked a Seeker-spark finally coming home to the winds, but she was flying, trusting her instruments. She would keep her wings, and when she was reformatted, it would be to another of the flying forms.
The wash-racks were fairly empty, most mechs having used them after the battle or before fueling. There were still some mechs standing under the shower-heads, mostly grounders. Roadstead missed having a true Seeker barrack here, and determined to make a stop in Vos while he was showing Amber around the empire. He missed his home...
“Wow. This is like... gym showers, or something. It's... not as bad as I expected...” Amber said, looking around. She squeaked a moment later, looking away from a mech who was cleaning off his interface equipment.
“You're still sealed, since you were virgin, so you don't have to worry about that. It's just a matter of keeping everything clean, though. It has to be done, and there's no other place, or a reason not to clean here,” Roadstead said.
What Roadstead hadn't told Amber as they crossed the base again was that, in the course of teaching her, he was likely to overload her at least once. It was a function of her form, and was probably unavoidable, even though he did plan to be as 'professional' as he could be. He would have to let her break eventually, as well, but he would prefer to hold that off until she was recolored and they were off planet. There was less patience for Sues than there was for other OCs, but away from those who had seen this... well, she could afford to break then.
"I... see..." Amber murmured, looking at the floor. She allowed herself to be positioned near a faucet, and yelped when Roadstead turned it on cold.
The brown Seeker smirked at her. "It's a faucet. You know how to work these. Set the temp." They really did work just the same as a human faucet, because it was a fairly simple and logical way to set things up.
That brough a strangled laugh from Amber, with a slight edge of hysteria, but the femme complied. The water was still cooler than Roadstead liked it, but it wasn't painful and so he was willing to let that go.
"Okay. We usually use our own cloths, and you'll be getting some, don't worry. Here." Subspace was another thing that could cause headaches and full-out processor locks in OCs who thought about it too hard. Roadstead didn't, simply reaching in and pulling out a cloth. "The water already has a mild cleanser in it, so go ahead and start rubbing down, and then I'll point out any place you're missing."
Amber began to do so, a little hesitantly. It was probably the first time she'd really faced how she had changed, and Roadstead was silent for a while, letting the femme work. She avoided her panel area, and wings, and stopped short of her thrusters as well.
"Not bad. Here, lean your back against the wall and I'll show you how to get the thrusters. You also need to get under your seams better, and as long as you're in a Seeker-frame, you will need help to get your back well. You can get the worst of a mess off, but that's not acceptable for long-term," Roadstead said when Amber stopped, then waited for her to comply.
"...Mess?" Amber asked, shivering as her wings contacted the cooler, smooth wall. She didn't fight as Roadstead knelt and lifted one pink and silver and red and gold foot. She shivered again as he started to prod it, working his claw-tips into the joints and thrusters. He was careful, but efficient, and glad that she hadn't really picked up much dirt even after tramping around the battlefield.
Roadstead belatedly remembered he'd been asked something, and shook his head. "Dirt and dust and possibly carbon from shots, and grease and oil... You're fine right now, but that stuff will build up without help, and eventually it'll mess with your flying. Which, I have to take you out for that, too..."
"Oh. I guess it would... umm..." Amber looked at Roadstead, who was patiently working his way up her leg. The sound she made was not entirely in confusion, but Roadstead did his best to ignore that. Thrusters shouldn't be that nice, anyway... "I'm going to get to fly?"
"Of course you are. You're in a flight frame. It'll be a good way to find out just how much of your spark is a flier's, if it is at all." Roadstead checked his work, then put down Amber's foot and stood, pulling her away from the wall. "Wings now. You'll have to get your panel later."
He took the front side of the broad wing first. It was a simple matter to lave the metal clean, rubbing hard enough to flex it slightly. The work was so familiar as to be nearly mindless, even as the metal under Roadstead's hands heated.
"It's the seams you really have to get here," the brown Seeker said as he reached them, lifting Amber's arm for access to the wide armor gap. "This is also where you really don't want to get shot. Even with the armor here..." his fingers grazed it, "the actual gap is big, and more importantly, the systems under it are delicate and vital. You've got a lot of flight systems, and then there's your fuel systems... It's not a good place to get hit. Not that any place really is."
Amber didn't answer, optics a little unfocused and gaze lagging as she tried to follow what Roadstead was doing. He moved to her other wing, and the cool water was starting to steam off her frame before he finished that one. He paused then, because he was trying to be professional.
"You... mm, you tricked me..." Amber muttered after a moment, looking at him. Her optics were darker than they had been, and Roadstead knew that she was aroused. He shook his head.
"No. Arousal is unavoidable in your frame. You're also not used to it, so it seems worse than it is. I'm not going to do anything more than finish teaching you, and if you overload from that, I won't even tease." It would be best for her if she were not ashamed of her reactions, after all.
"You should have warned me."
"It's less when you wash yourself. You didn't ask what effects this might have on you, and I have no obligation to warn. Relax. You'll be left alone for now, and we won't be here long." As Roadstead spoke, he turned her around, thought he stopped before trapping her against the wall. That might make her panic, so it would be better to risk falling, he thought.
There was not really much he could teach about this, though. He showed Amber the back-sponges, but didn't let her use them, because they really weren't very good. "Helios need help for this too, usually. Their rotor-arrays make blind scrubbing even more chancy, so most don't even bother." As he spoke, he dug into the cables, making sure everything was as it should be. He wasn't surprised that they were. Coding was messed up from translation, but the frames OCs started in were usually near-perfect.
Amber didn't seem to really be in any condition to listen. She was mewling, twitching away from him and into him. Roadstead knew it was a fight between her body and mind, and tried to respect her desires. It was very odd, cleaning a Seeker-frame who did not want to be pleasured.
The femme was still trembling when Roadstead finished, and he knew everyone in the wash-racks was watching. Most of the original mechs had stayed when they saw him come in, and more had followed, from curiosity or a genuine need to bathe as well. It didn't matter, though... "Amber. I'm done. You might want to turn the water colder so you don't overheat if you plan to let your charge fade instead of releasing it."
Her response was to spread her wings, not the best of ideas as they shook from want. She was probably trying to intimidating him, either mimicking what he had done or her coding acting on her emotional state. Either way, it increased the surface area for the water to stream down. Amber glared at him the entire time her chassis cooled, and Roadstead just watched her in return.
About the time Amber's wings stopped shivering, she looked away. Roadstead gave her a few more moments, and then turned off the water and pulled her over to the dry racks. Moving air and a towel would dry her... and might restart the whole probably again. It would depend on how reactive she was to air.
"So what's... the whole deal with, um. Starscream, and... He can command you- er, Seekers, um, you said... those with a Seeker... spark? But you're not sure I... am?" Amber asked, apparently trying to distract herself from the process.
"He doesn't simply order to test because he doesn't really like to," Roadstead answered, preempting the actual question. "In my case, he was angry because I was sobbing like some gormless sparkling. Anyway, the question is much less whether or not you're a Seeker and more whether or not you're a flier at all. There's no harm in letting you wear our frame while we figure that out. You are getting repainted, though. Think about colors." Amber listened, though her wings were shaking again by the time she was dry. That was very likely to cause problems later, just from running so hot.
She was also giving him a bit of a hard look. Roadstead wasn't sure why the femme was looking at him as though he had insulted her... "But you got angry when I had problems, and you did the same thing, and-"
Oh. Well, maybe that was an insult... Roadstead shrugged a little. "I never said I didn't. And I said Starscream was mad at me, so there. You acted like I did, I acted like he did. I told you, we're not the soft side. ...Come on. Let's see if flying makes you feel better. Metro' is filling out the paperwork requesting leave and transport around the empire."
Slowly, Amber softened, reaching to take the hand that Roadstead was offering. They only went a few steps into the main square, and then Roadstead pulled her close and took off. She was heavier than another Seeker, because of the Sue backstory, but Roadstead was built for endurance more than speed, and was able to carry her.
Not that doing so helped Amber to fly. "Turn on your thrusters. You have the form and the coding. Fly." Roadstead does not add that if she hasn't started to lift herself in a couple thousand feet, he'll drop her. That would needlessly frighten her.
He fell, for a moment, looking up at Sunrain in shock. And then every instinct he had, everything which had caused his dreams all his life, came rushing to the fore. The wind buffeted him, thrusters engaged, and he flew, playing with the air as though it were an old friend. There is a flash of green and yellow, and then Sunrain is playing with him.
Roadstead shook his head, clearing away the memory. He couldn't play until he was sure that Amber could, or at the least until he knew she wouldn't fall out of the sky. She still hadn't followed his advice, though. She was looking around, or at her own wings... Roadstead huffed, going higher. He wanted to have time to catch her if he had to drop her.
If she did very badly, if flight was an anathema to her... Roadstead wasn't sure what he would do. It was standard to just remove the frame's wings until a full reformat could be obtained, but he wasn't sure he would be able to teach her like he had been charged to when she looked like that. But then, it wouldn't be his fault, and Starscream would understand-
Worries were broken by the sound and feel of another thruster, and then Amber was pulling away from him. She was taking to the air on her own, and Roadstead relaxed. She had very little instinctive grace, the playfulness which marked a Seeker-spark finally coming home to the winds, but she was flying, trusting her instruments. She would keep her wings, and when she was reformatted, it would be to another of the flying forms.