There's a horse tied to one of the gas-stations on the way to Sacramento. A stiff, shivering, utterly miserable sack of human flesh is munching greedily on some Twinkies and downing Raspberry Gatorade.
A motorcycle is very much a new thing. Cars in general are new to Oliver Wycliffe - but he certainly thinks that these strange carriages aren't supposed to drive themselves.
Blast. He was hoping the cold rain hadn't driven him into a fever quite yet.
Thrust hadn't stopped for the gas, or the gatorade, or even to see what the horse was-- he hadn't been able to see it from the highway. No, he just wanted to stop for a little while, maybe recharge, since he's watching his energon reserves.
For a moment, he considers just moving on, turning back to the road or finding somewhere else to stop.
Then again, there are only two organics, and the biped looks like too much of a mess to do him any damage. He'll keep an optic on the quadraped, he decides, before transforming and having pulling out a road map that has probably seen better days.
Yep. Transforming. Without so much as a hello or an I come in peace. Instead just leaning there against a gas pump, checking his progress against the thick red line of I-5.
Oliver staggers back at the transforming, and the-- the--
Honestly, he thought his hallucinations would be about demons or angels. That's the way it's supposed to be in the books. Who knew his subconscious mind would be this strange?
...Or that the hallucination would last this long?
Protected from the rain by the overhang of the gas station, Oliver pipes up with a hesitant, "Ah...Excuse me?"
Oliver has great demon-killing instincts - when he can recognize what he's seeing as demonic. This is simply too out-there for him.
"Yeah?" The hallucination is a big pink machine with a deep rumble for a voice. This may say unusual things about Oliver's subconscious, or it may mean that his hallucination is actually standing there.
Thrust would be surprised to learn he's a hallucination. He'd ask to be hallucinated back where he came from.
But he does look at the organic, vaguely curious. What do you know, something that talks.
Comments 112
There's a horse tied to one of the gas-stations on the way to Sacramento. A stiff, shivering, utterly miserable sack of human flesh is munching greedily on some Twinkies and downing Raspberry Gatorade.
A motorcycle is very much a new thing. Cars in general are new to Oliver Wycliffe - but he certainly thinks that these strange carriages aren't supposed to drive themselves.
Blast. He was hoping the cold rain hadn't driven him into a fever quite yet.
Reply
For a moment, he considers just moving on, turning back to the road or finding somewhere else to stop.
Then again, there are only two organics, and the biped looks like too much of a mess to do him any damage. He'll keep an optic on the quadraped, he decides, before transforming and having pulling out a road map that has probably seen better days.
Yep. Transforming. Without so much as a hello or an I come in peace. Instead just leaning there against a gas pump, checking his progress against the thick red line of I-5.
Tactful, ain't he?
Reply
Honestly, he thought his hallucinations would be about demons or angels. That's the way it's supposed to be in the books. Who knew his subconscious mind would be this strange?
...Or that the hallucination would last this long?
Protected from the rain by the overhang of the gas station, Oliver pipes up with a hesitant, "Ah...Excuse me?"
Oliver has great demon-killing instincts - when he can recognize what he's seeing as demonic. This is simply too out-there for him.
Reply
Thrust would be surprised to learn he's a hallucination. He'd ask to be hallucinated back where he came from.
But he does look at the organic, vaguely curious. What do you know, something that talks.
Reply
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