((Hey guys, just letting you know I’m dropping Eject from the NCC RP. I’ll leave the account up, but I won’t be RPing from it any longer.
Thanks for all the fun!))
((Hey guys, just letting you know I’m dropping Eject from the NCC RP. I’ll leave the account up, but I won’t be RPing from it any longer.
Thanks for all the fun!))
'Aww I don't mean no harm by it. Sometimes you need a smaller mech to reach them hard to reach places. Heh. Well. I do actually mean that, not a eewww..euf…whatever. Like right between the shoulders.
….wait, you’re big now? You get an upgrade or somethin?’
Eject is currently sitting in the rather-empty mess of the Lost Light, an amusingly despondent figure by himself at a table, his chin in one hand, a half-full cube of energon before him. “For the moment, yeah. You know those tears? Well, they’ve done weird stuff before, as far as switchin’ folks around and making mechs sparklins and all.”
He shrugs, not that Skywarp can see it. “I switched sizes with First. Or bodies? Sort of both? It’s kinda weird. I’m still me but I look a little different, on account of bein’ big and all. Got new armor and stuff.” For a mech who seems obsessed with his (former lack of) size, Eject doesn’t sound very happy about it. “I’ve got more power in my arm now than I had in my whole damn body when I was little. So you’d better be careful about not gettin’ popped.”
Misfire wishes he had some witty or snappy retort to this but…he just kind of crumbles. He can’t get in more than a few “But—!” and “You—-“s before he falls completely silent, looking like someone just punched him in the guts. He knows that these words are absolutely true, and that’s what makes them especially hurtful. If he didn’t regret antagonizing the cassette twins before, he definitely does now.
They wouldn’t really have to actually do much themselves, all they have to do is tell the tale of what he did -or talked about doing- to put him in an extremely bad light. Misfire, however, knows that there’s nothing he could do to stop them or to take revenge on them, not where he is right now. And the worst thing about it all is that he only has himself to blame for his dilemma.
He doesn’t even want to imagine how Aimless would react. Too bad though that his processor is already conjuring up one worst case scenario after another.
"G-Go to hell, Autobot…!" he hisses, voice constricted as he suddenly finds himself biting back tears.
"You first, ‘Con," Eject snaps back. He’s being cruel, and right now there’s nobody to reign him in. All he can think about are Misfire’s threats, about how horrible it had felt to contemplate that Rewind could be made to kill Chromedome at the hands of someone else.
It wasn’t as if he felt that Misfire could have really accomplished his goal, but then again… he did have a Phase Sixer as his wing man, for some reason. Regardless of the capability, the intent was clear, and if Misfire had possessed the means to do what he had said he would, then it probably would have gotten done.
"I’m done wasting my time with you," the minibot concludes before he cuts the link. He doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by his actions, but he doesn’t regret them, either.
Misfire had visibly shrunken during the tirade. Or rather, tried to disappear behind the desk he’s sitting at, as he likes to do when talking to someone he’d rather avoid. In fact, the sheer amount of inconvenience these twins could cause him is an absolute nightmare, and he only dares to vent a sigh of relief once Eject says that he won’t snitch on him. That’s one danger less. Sometimes he’s almost glad that the Autobots are such pushovers with all their ethics and consideration and everything.
Still very, very meek, he raises his head a little. “H-He better not say anything either, or I’ll make him shut up for good…!” The words leave his mouth before he realizes that he’s not helping his own cause. Not at all.
Eject just snorts derisively, sneering under his mask. “You can’t even make yourself shut up. I can’t really be mad at you because you’re too pathetic to be mad at.”
The minibot continues, mercilessly, “You’re nothin’, Misfire. That’s all you’ve ever been, and that’s all you’re gonna be. I ain’t doing this for you. I’m doing this for your partner, who probably deserves better than bein’ saddled with the multiverse’s biggest loser. You need our help just to make sure you don’t destroy your partnership in the first place!”
He shakes his head. “You ain’t even worth bein’ taken seriously.”
At least this time Misfire remembers to make the channel private before blurting out an answer.
"N-No don’t do that! That was ages ago and it was a different situation and all!"
He should have known that this story would come back to haunt him one day. As if his relationship with his partner wasn’t difficult enough already…His voice becomes softer, and almost pleading.
"Look let’s just….uh…f-forget about it, okay? No need to make an issue of it, you know…?"
Eject’s eyes narrow behind his visor. “After all of the things you threatened to do to my brother, to make him do to someone he loves, you expect me to have mercy on you now? Just because it would make things real inconvenient for ya?”
He falls silent for a few moments, giving Misfire time to think about the things he said and how Aimless would react to the news. Eject doesn’t know much about Aimless—he’s never even spoken to the minicon—but he doesn’t imagine that the firearm would appreciate any of it.
Then he says, “I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but it ain’t just about you.” He sighs, still evidently angry. He wants to hurt Misfire in any way he can, lash blindly out at the other mech, but at the end of the day two people have to live with the situation, and Eject hasn’t forgotten that Misfire told him that Aimless was once an Autobot.
Indulging in petty revenge is not mature or even very Autobot-like behavior, and Eject knows this, but he’s damned if he doesn’t want to. Though he might find satisfaction, it would surely be at the cost of what little happiness Misfire’s unfortunate partner had left.
"So I won’t say nothin’. But I ain’t the only one you mouthed off to, and if anyone else wants to drop your little partner a line, I ain’t about to stop or blame them.” If Rewind decides to speak to Aimless, he certainly won’t stand in his brother’s way.
Now, First Aid wasn’t the most qualified psychiatrist, considering Rung’s residency aboard the Lost Light - but he’d dabbled a bit during his training as a younger mech, for all intents and purposes; Brainstorm looked a bit uncomfortable. That was all.
So First Aid sat upright - placing himself exclusively in Brainstorm’s lap for a moment, before he slid off his legs, scrambling to stand and stretch himself out for a little bit, the handle on his back flicking.
"Oh, I’m not that small, I can handle it." The medic waved Eject off, scrambling over to the other end of the medbay. "If you could just hop up on that berth right there, I can hook you up - Brains, can you get the scanner for me?," He asked, pointing to the higher shelf, which was a bit of a reach even for First Aid when he was regular sized - now it was simply impossible.
Seeing as both Eject and First Aid shifted apart, Brainstorm quietly assumes that maybe something was going on there, and the other mechs decided to spare him feeling like a third wheel.
He’s not exactly sure how he feels about this new development, but getting down to the business of checking his friend over to see if the change in size has effected his spark… Well, it’s a welcome distraction.
"Sure, no problem." Brainstorm says as he slowly lifts himself to his feet. Making sure not to get in First Aid’s way, the engineer casually reaches up on the shelf and fetches the scanner, passing it to the medic and standing close just in case the weight of it was too much for him now.
Eject obliges First Aid, watching him with the same attentiveness that he displays when he’s his usual size. He seems oddly out of place in his new frame, hunched over as he is to closely follow First Aid’s movements. He’s used to angling his whole body towards anything that interests him, as it is somewhat necessarily in a mech smaller than most everything else in his environment. The former minibot does as he is instructed, doing what he can to help First Aid with all of the proper hookups.
The readings, when they come, are definitely a bit odd. Eject’s spark hasn’t grown in size or power, but he’s not showing any sign of nearing his breaking strain. The systems that now comprise his body are as energized as any fully healthy mech’s, but they seem to be drawing their power from some undetectable source. It’s puzzling, to be sure, but it doesn’t seem to be having any ill effects on Eject’s body.
At some point in the examination Eject tilts his head. “Looks like Rewind’s noticed. I’ll hafta meet up with him in a bit. What’s the word, First? Am I lookin’ okay?”
First Aid feels strangely comfortable, stretched between Eject and Brainstorm - it’s a lot different than sitting down and being hugged by Ratchet, or getting a pat on the back from Ambulon.
So, he indulges in it, splaying comfortably between the two mechs, smiling so his mask moves, tickling Eject’s abdomen the slightest bit. “Your welcome, Brains. Means a lot to me that you’re here.”
Eject has been there for First Aid countless times - especially when he dropped out of a tear back into the Lost Light from the Peaceful Tyranny - and even though it was especially traumatizing for the medic, he distinctly remembers lying through his teeth at the minibot. He feels like that now, but he doesn’t bring it up, instead continuing to rub his hand over Eject’s middle, softly.
He knows most mechs don’t have metallomesh armor anymore, and if they do, its on a dermal level to protect wires from getting caught in armor joints - but Eject’s tummy is nice and smooth and separated into different plates, and fun to run his hand over, so he continues.
"I’ll give you a good look-over, don’t worry. Did you want to just get that over with now?" He asks, pushing himself up a bit to look at Ej.
Nodding idly at Eject’s mention of getting himself checked out more thoroughly, Brainstorm waits patiently for the other two to be ready to get back to work. Not that their present situation is in any way disagreeable from his point of view, of course, but the scientist does have things to do. Then again, he always has things to do.
First Aid’s use of Eject’s old nickname for him comes as yet another surprise, and perhaps because of that, he instantly replies with an almost disbelieving “Really?!” before he can stop himself.
"I mean, well, of course you would!" he adds, not-so-successfully attempting to deflect attention from his previous gaffe, "Having the pride of Kimia’s engineering division around is always a good thing, after all."
And then the medic starts running his fingers and hands over Eject’s midsection, and Brainstorm arches an optic ridge. He’s still not used to such open displays of affection, platonic or no, and he shoots Eject a questioning look that says 'Am I interrupting something by being here?'
Eject doesn’t seem to think twice about First Aid’s gently rubbing hand, only sighing sedately as they relax. He remains silent as his two friends converse, quite happy to see them tentatively getting along. They both mean a lot to him, and it’s very easy for Brainstorm to unintentionally rub someone the wrong way. All seems to be well for now.
When the other mech seeks his gaze and cocks a brow ridge, for a moment Eject is nonplussed. He’s so used to sharing physical affection not just with First Aid, but with Rewind, with Ratchet, with Wheeljack, with anyone who needs it, that it doesn’t occur to him that Brainstorm might not think of such a thing as routine.
When it finally hits him, though, he can’t help but be faintly amused. He’ll have to talk to his friend later and clear matters up. The former minibot doesn’t want to make Brainstorm any more uncomfortable, but luckily First Aid has given him a means of ceasing their public cuddling without being rude or curt about it. “Sure thing!” He shifts a bit and looks to First Aid. “You want a lift to one of the tables, or would you rather handle it yourself?”
It would be very easy for Eject to simply place his friend where he wanted to, but he knows very well how annoying unexpected grabbing can be.
“Oh, I have to see this!” Rewind beams, his excitement flooding through the bond, “Just stay there, stay right where you are. I’ll be there in klik. Just gotta grab my crutches.”
There was a brief moment of silence, interrupted only by ominous sound of something crashing to the floor echoing through the link, followed by the quick reassurance that everything was okay.
And before Eject could get a word in edgewise, the comm-link was cut.
After about twenty minutes, Rewind reestablishes the link…
“Okay,” He huffed, “I think- I think I might need you to meet me halfway. I might have-I might have overestimated my recover just a little bit…” He lets out a small laugh between labored vents, “…whoops.”
By the time Rewind’s message comes through, Eject has already wrapped things up in the medbay. He cocks his head and responds, “Sure thing, I’ll be right there!” He doesn’t ask where Rewind is because, well, he knows. His new size hasn’t interfered with his surveillance suite, and he’s still jacked into the Lost Light’s security systems.
Eject is once again impressed at how quickly he covers distance in this form. When he rounds the corner and spots his brother for the first time from this new perspective, he slows a bit, taking in the sight of his twin. Oh he… he looks so small somehow, and the fact that Rewind is still recovering from his injuries just further fans the flames of Eject’s protectiveness.
"Hey, bro," he says as he draws close, kneeling. Eject’s new body retains the basic aesthetics of his old one, but his armor is much more complicated now, possessing a healthy bit of new, complicated kibble. He looks less like a cassette made giant and more like a mech simply built this size. "Oh, Primus, you look so small,” he says, immediately reaching over to carefully scoop Rewind up and hold him against his chest.
With all of them snuggled up in their little triage of cuddling, First Aid takes the opportunity to stretch his legs into Brainstorm’s lap too, taking up space on both of them in a miniscule show of care. He’s come to like the scientist a little more since this debacle, and is comfortable with him enough now to engage in physical attentions - not that it’s any surprise, being a medic has left the CMO in training with a lifelong need to touch.
"Thanks Ej," he says warmly, rubbing his mask gently against his chassis plating.
It occurs to him that Brainstorm is also of the mask-wearing social class, so First Aid leans over to rub his against the blue jet’s arm lightly. “And thank you too, Brains. For being here,” he adds quickly, before settling back against Eject.
"I couldn’t tell you how long the effects will last." First Aid shrugs, looking worriedly at Eject, his visor dim. "You okay?" He almost whispers, placing a small hand on his midsection and rubbing in a small circle, hopefully to get him back to his typical, goofy behavior.
Eject’s friendly contact is familiar to Brainstorm, even though the size difference adds a strange, new element to it. Still, it only takes a few moments for the engineer to adjust and settle in to the lean.
"It’ll definitely be interesting. Heh, you could probably carry poor Rewind around now,” he chuckles, “I’d pay to see that.”
First Aid’s sudden nuzzling of his arm comes as a bit of a surprise to Brainstorm. It feels almost like the cybercat he once owned when he was younger. Not an unpleasant feeling, no, but people (or at least people who he hadn’t been friends with for a while) aren’t usually so physically affectionate with the scientist because of his reputation as someone strange at best and crazy and dangerous at worst. To have the tiny medic so comfortable with him so quickly is almost shocking.
Yet…it’s First Aid. And he’s thanking him. Brainstorm could never complain about being thanked. “You’re welcome.” he says before turning to face Eject, cocking his head to the side and mild concern apparent in his expression.
Eject watches First Aid tentatively extend his physical affection to Brainstorm closely, smiling slightly and evidently pleased. He is always happy to see his friends getting along with one another, and he’s especially happy to see First Aid making an effort to be kind to Brainstorm, who (in Eject’s opinion) doesn’t really get enough appreciation for all the good he’s capable of. Brainstorm’s startled look only reinforces the notion, and Eject’s smile broadens into a grin.
All things considered, he’s pretty happy right now. It feels very nice to be able to curl around the entirety of First Aid protectively, and even though Eject can feel a terrible ache rising in his spark at the knowledge that this sensation is transient, he’s determined to hold onto it while it lasts. He’s near two of his dearest friends, some of the few friends he has left, and he’s learned over the course of the tumultuous year to value their company while it lasts.
When First aid queries him, Eject looks down, his expression softening a bit. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, First.” He definitely has his worries and reservations about this whole situation, but they’re not what First Aid needs to hear right now. The worst Eject has to deal with is the knowledge that he’ll go back to his old body someday, and likely someday soon. Right now the little medic is living that reality, and he needs support, not moping. “But, uh, when we get a chance, I’d still like to make sure everything’s, y’know. Workin’.”
First Aid can only giggle at Brainstorm’s cheeriness. It’s good to know that someone is excited - because he knows how Eject is upset over the new developments with their frame size, and so is he. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t mind!
The new minibot rests against Eject comfortably, looking up at Brainstorm. He’s tempted to invite the scientist down, but… the medic assumes that Brainstorm doesn’t have social anxiety and doesn’t really want to cuddle on the medbay floor. Oh well. It’s just that some mechs find it weird.
"I’m glad to know I have a ride if I wanna go anywhere, thanks guys." First Aid chuckles, groping for and finding one of Eject’s arms, dragging it over his middle in a half-hug, making himself cozy. Carefully, he lets his EM field pulse against Eject’s soothingly, nearly melding the frequencies - both to soothe Eject and himself.
"Can you? I think I annoyed him with how much I let him know what’s going on," he explains, and finally makes up his mind by reaching out a hand to Brainstorm, gesturing for him to sit with them. He’s comfortable enough with him, now, and doesn’t want him to feel left out.
"Oh. Well, uh, it’s just that since I’m so much taller and visit the medbay occasionally anyway, I might as well help you out. Right?" Brainstorm hopes that that explanation is enough to deflect the other two from his new-found fascination with the First Aid’s alt. Normally he wouldn’t mind if people thought it was weird, but since the mechs in question were his friend and such a kind, skilled medic…
Then First Aid reaches out to him, asking for him to sit beside them and, well, Brainstorm finds that he can’t resist the happy and welcoming look on the smaller Autobot’s face. First Aid’s new form being kind of adorable helped a lot too.
Primus, when did I get to be so soft-sparked?
The scientist slowly descends and sits cross-legged to one side of Eject, patting his friend’s shoulder plating as he gets comfortable. He gently pats First Aid’s head as well, almost reflexively.
"Yeah, it’s better to keep it short and sweet with Rodimus. I’ve reported to him before and he’s not one for “wordy" explanations." There’s a bit of bitterness in Brainstorm’s voice. It’s clear that while he’s fine with Rodimus’ authority over the ship, the captain still hasn’t endeared himself to Brainstorm. Especially not after Rodimus dismissed his scientific explanation of why the Lost Light crashed after its launch.
Eject responds with a soothing pulse in kind. He’s a little startled by the robust frequencies of his EM field, at how it seems to envelop and swallow First Aid’s now much-weaker signature. He adjusts, though, striving for harmony rather than dominance. He shifts his grip, pulling the little medic gently against him, and doesn’t bother to hide his delight when Brainstorm joins them. The two mechs he’s with now are his closest remaining friends, and even though all three of them sitting on the floor is bound to look silly to any passers-by, Eject finds it comfortable and very cozy.
He scoots a little closer to Brainstorm after the pat, bringing them into one nice, snug group. He doesn’t fit as neatly into the curve of Brainstorm’s waist as he would if he were his normal size, but the jet is still surprisingly comfortable to lean on. Chuckling, he responds, “Sure thing. I’ll let him know pronto.” He pauses, cocking his head to one side, and is silent for a few moments. “Looks like Rewind noticed, too. I’ll go talk to him about it in a bit. That’s going to be interesting,” he finishes dryly.
For the first time, Eject allows his frame to sag a bit, giving a resigned sigh. “I wonder how long it’s going to last…” He’s quiet for a moment, his expression tense and difficult to read. “Hopefully not very. For your sake, First.” He nudges the little mech in his lap. “But hey, at least it’s not Sharkticons.” A pause. “Again.”