(Untitled)

[alterrainterror]

Rollbar trudges back in, probably looking for a place to sit that hasn't got a furtive Predacon in it.

"All right." With a glance at the sign, he sits back on the nearest couch and looks around. "I know about us, but what do the rest of you do when your team's havin' a run of bad luck?"

His tone takes a turn towards the grumbling. "And failin' that

Comments

[random_xtras]

"Kintoran epoxy putty in the treads."

[random_xtras]

"Wanted ta be the only one." She tossed her heavy black hair back and reached up to fiddle with the twin curved barbells that pierced one eyebrow.

[alterrainterror]

That takes him a few seconds to process, it being so out of line with his own thinking - but at least he can grasp it, with a bit of twisting and some half-applicable analogies. "'Cause he hated the others? Or just a hell'f an ego-trip?"

[random_xtras]

"Nah, he just thought it'd be funny."

[alterrainterror]

"Huh?" He gapes for a second, disturbed, then shakes his head. "That's the looniest thing I ever heard!" Of course, reasons another part of his mind, a race which could come up with that kind of thinking was bound to go extinct...

[random_xtras]

"He was the first maverick born there in a few thousand years, 'n he was the craziest bastich that ever rode the spaceways," Mornbein assured him. "From what I hear the place was... what the @##%$%&'s that word... Utopia? Where everything's all peachy keen 'n nobody disses or frags anybody."

[alterrainterror]

"Well... that sounds pretty weird, too..." It's confusing, really. On the one hand, that kind of change is a concept he understands - on the other, turning on your own for a whim just doesn't compute. Rollbar rubs the side of his helmet and decides not to worry about the disparity. He can talk to the others about it later.

"It'd make sense if he'd got rid of it for a reason..." He frowns, unable to quite ignore the nagging gap between logic and fact.

[random_xtras]

She shrugged. "He felt like it."

[alterrainterror]

He nods after a moment, expression setting in a sort of grim acceptance. Disapproval combines with 'well, organics' to give dismissive contempt. "Talk about a dumb reason. Can't see anyone survivin' long with that kind'f thinking."

[random_xtras]

"He was over four hundred when 'e bit it." Mornbein's face dropped slightly into sadness. "Somebody'd got him thinkin' a little straighter, 'n the dumb bastich died tryin' ta save somebody else."

[alterrainterror]

"Right. Hardly any time at all." He nods, feeling his point vindicated slightly. "From what you just said, I'm surprised he had anyone left to save."

[random_xtras]

Her mouth twisted with amusement once more. "Like I say, he got good. Started carin'. The girl was a human he'd adopted as family. 'N he died right after my mother found out she was carryin' me."

[alterrainterror]

Rollbar's silent for a few seconds, working this out. "Now there's a mess I wouldn't want to be stuck in," he says finally.

[random_xtras]

"Eh?" She cocked her head, not sure of what he meant. Maybe if she hadn't wandered off mentally....

[alterrainterror]

"I'm glad things're simpler for my guys. All that betrayin' and adopting and the plain weirdness... it's just insane." He and his comrades have very clear ideas about how things are meant to work. Her story didn't seem to fit, and that was unsettling.

[random_xtras]

"Oh." She sniggered. "Yeah, I'm kinda glad I didn't git that much 'a the craziness from the old man."