He hadn't meant to frighten anyone or cause a scene. In fact he was rather proud of the level of self control he maintained. A few stellars back, he wouldn't have reacted so cordially to the news of his friend's death.
He gives Fireflight a grateful nod then stows the food containers into subspace.
Thanks, kiddo and...sorry for losin' it. But Swindle--
The thought is cut off as Lockdown takes in the extent of Silverbolt's injuries, inflicted by the very mech he was about to claim as his friend. He watches the aerial cross the room and take his seat, feeling a conflicting mess of emotion, not sure whether to mourn his friend or follow him to the pit to give him a piece of his mind.
Nice t'meet ya Silverbot. It's a struggle to speak with an easy tone. Name's Lockdown.
As Chromia jabs the hunter with her mood-lightening tactics, he snorts in amusement then elbows her in the arm. He couldn't think of a retort. She nailed him fair and square for the irony of the situation.
Lockdown is pleased that Silverbolt inquires to Slipstream's condition. She is clearly in good relations with these jets, despite the factional difference, and discussing her should help ease the tension more.
Slip's healin' up good. It's a little slow goin' but the docs think she'll be back to her sassy self in just a few solars.
*At the elbow to her arm, Chromia lets a slightly smug grin blossom. One she promptly covers up by stuffing a fresh handful of wafers into her mouth.
Her optic ridges furrow when the extensiveness of Silverbolt's injuries become apparent. She's really starting to feel more and more satisfied that the slagger who inflicted them died. One less grease-ball to gunk up the place I guess. She then vents a soft snort at Silverbolt's unnecessary apology, taking another large gulp of high-grade before replying.*
Don't worry about it kid. You just focus on recoverin' for now. We can talk shootin' practise later. And we will. *She shutters one optic in a wink at him.*
"That's good to hear," Silverbolt said. "When we stop by the medbay, I'll see about checking on her, if one of the Ratchet's let me." He turned and offer Flight a grateful smile before taking a small slip of the low-grade. He allowed a small sigh, glad that the energon was going to stay in his tank.
"It might be a while before I'm back. Um, Swindle ended up with my gun." He looked away, remembering why Swindle had it in the first place. "Hope Wheeljack is willing to help with building a new one. He changed the subject slightly. "I overheard about a white mecha killing Swindle. I only know a couple of white mechas in the area."
"Can you show me, Flight? I want to know if it might be one of the ones."
"Uh, sure." Fireflight held out his right wrist before swapping it for his left. It was a minor nick in the connector cable from the struggling before but it still stung a little.
sorry for the delayhunter_for_hireSeptember 5 2010, 17:42:19 UTC
The hunter tunes out the Autobots' conversation, too wrapped up in own unsettling mix of confusion, grief and disgust to process anything else. The energon isn't even having an effect. He's tempted to ask for more but refrains, keeping in mind those hungry few waiting for him back at the medbay.
He lifts his glance from his empty cube to the grinning femme, her ever-relaxed state providing him with a moment of calm, but it quickly diminishes when Silverbolt mentions Swindle and his slayer. Before he realizes it, he's out of his seat, snatching up his cane and heading for the door.
Let's go Annie. He calls out to the bird with a forced calm. She immediately swoops down from the light fixture she had perched on during the hunter's tantrum then alights obediently on his shoulder. He glances back to pay his respects as cordially as possible.
Pleasure meetin' ya Silverbolt. Hope the two a'you heal up quick.
He nods to Chromia, knowing that's all that's needed to convey his gratitude for her company. He then shifts his focus, managing the makings of a smile for Fireflight.
Medbay folks will be real appreciative of your treats, 'lil bird. Thanks again.
He gives Fireflight a grateful nod then stows the food containers into subspace.
Thanks, kiddo and...sorry for losin' it. But Swindle--
The thought is cut off as Lockdown takes in the extent of Silverbolt's injuries, inflicted by the very mech he was about to claim as his friend. He watches the aerial cross the room and take his seat, feeling a conflicting mess of emotion, not sure whether to mourn his friend or follow him to the pit to give him a piece of his mind.
Nice t'meet ya Silverbot. It's a struggle to speak with an easy tone. Name's Lockdown.
As Chromia jabs the hunter with her mood-lightening tactics, he snorts in amusement then elbows her in the arm. He couldn't think of a retort. She nailed him fair and square for the irony of the situation.
Lockdown is pleased that Silverbolt inquires to Slipstream's condition. She is clearly in good relations with these jets, despite the factional difference, and discussing her should help ease the tension more.
Slip's healin' up good. It's a little slow goin' but the docs think she'll be back to her sassy self in just a few solars.
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Her optic ridges furrow when the extensiveness of Silverbolt's injuries become apparent. She's really starting to feel more and more satisfied that the slagger who inflicted them died. One less grease-ball to gunk up the place I guess. She then vents a soft snort at Silverbolt's unnecessary apology, taking another large gulp of high-grade before replying.*
Don't worry about it kid. You just focus on recoverin' for now. We can talk shootin' practise later. And we will. *She shutters one optic in a wink at him.*
Reply
"It might be a while before I'm back. Um, Swindle ended up with my gun." He looked away, remembering why Swindle had it in the first place. "Hope Wheeljack is willing to help with building a new one. He changed the subject slightly. "I overheard about a white mecha killing Swindle. I only know a couple of white mechas in the area."
"Can you show me, Flight? I want to know if it might be one of the ones."
Reply
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He lifts his glance from his empty cube to the grinning femme, her ever-relaxed state providing him with a moment of calm, but it quickly diminishes when Silverbolt mentions Swindle and his slayer. Before he realizes it, he's out of his seat, snatching up his cane and heading for the door.
Let's go Annie. He calls out to the bird with a forced calm. She immediately swoops down from the light fixture she had perched on during the hunter's tantrum then alights obediently on his shoulder. He glances back to pay his respects as cordially as possible.
Pleasure meetin' ya Silverbolt. Hope the two a'you heal up quick.
He nods to Chromia, knowing that's all that's needed to convey his gratitude for her company. He then shifts his focus, managing the makings of a smile for Fireflight.
Medbay folks will be real appreciative of your treats, 'lil bird. Thanks again.
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