I Got Better

Greetings! Please wait outside the door if I'm with a patient. Otherwise, come in, sit down, and relax. I'm here to help! Current Location: Lost Light Magic Anon: CURRENTLY OFF [[Indie IDW Rung roleplay blog, please read Rules and Headcanon!]]

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

Hiro inhaled once the air pressure changed. He tapped the side of his helmet, faceguard slipping away the moment he did. He gulped in air, trying to settle the stinging in his lungs. He glanced up as Rung walked closer and tensed slightly. He wasn’t afraid of him, exactly, but he was cautious. He didn’t know what these robots were capable of. After catching his breath, he moved to stand again, a little wobbly at first. He reached up and grabbed the sides of his helmet. He pulled it off, shaking his crow’s nest of a head free.  Thus, reveal of the fourteen year old super hero. “Thanks, Rung.”

"I’m from San Fransokyo,” he replied, “It’s a city on Earth. I’ve been lost for a long time. I’m trying to get home.” Before it was too late. Before he was presumed dead. “Yeah, nice to meet you, too,” he muttered. Overall, he was impressed with these robots. They weren’t built by humans and they were incredibly sentient. He couldn’t help but stare at Rung, trying to figure out how every cog and wheel worked.

The panic seized his spark when the small human boldly removed the rest of his protective helm. Rung wasn't incredibly knowledgeable about humans, but he knew most organics lacked the same sort of environmental scanning abilities that Cybertronians possessed. Unless the little one had something hardwired into the helmet, Hiro had trusted that he wouldn't poison the air. Cautious, but paradoxically quick to trust in others. Rung raised an eyebrow as he mulled over the facts. Just how young was this human? 

He remained silent as Hiro spoke, expression neutrally excited as Hiro gave names to places he'd never known even existed. "I have no idea where that is. But...I understand how it is to be lost." Hiro was oddly attentive. Maybe Rung had sat too close. He let his fingers drum gently on his knee, processor kicking into gear. He wanted to examine, pick the small organic's brain for information. It was all so fascinating. But...unless the archives were wrong, Hiro was a youngling by organic standards. Most likely sensitive, malleable, easily damaged both physically and psychologically, if humans were as similar as people said.

"...I am very sorry you're stuck. Perhaps I can find someone who can help."

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

Great. He jumped from one dimensional disaster to the next one. He wasn’t prepared for all of these robots to be poking and prodding him, asking him questions about his state of being. He wasn’t in the mood- it reminded him of Baymax. And the very thought of his best friend missing, or rather he was missing from him, made a frown twist onto his features. He remained crouched down, unable to really stand fully. His lungs hurt. He adjusted his helmet, puffs of air fogging up the faceguard. Was it getting harder to breathe or was it just him? “This ship again? How many of these do you guys have?” And which one was he on before? How were there this many dimensions of one place? “Uh, I’m fine,” he grunted, though he didn’t sound like it, wheezing sounding from under his helmet. “I just…need some air.” But taking off his helmet would be dangerous. What would Baymax say? Detrimental to his health or something medical like that. He huffed in frustration. He was starving, but he wasn’t going to bring that up to some stick robot and his weird antenna. He huffed and moved to sit, trying to catch his breath. All right, space was not friendly and these robots were not used to humans being on their exploratory ship. “Rung?” He almost laughed. What a weird name. “Hamada Hiro. You can call me Hiro.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to end up here. I just did. It’s a problem with the teleporter. I was trying to get home. It must have meshed with an interstellar thing on your ship. You know, that bridge I’ve heard about. Anyway, I ended up here,” he wheezed, reaching up to tug at the armor around his neck. If he died here, he was going to get an ear full from his brother.

"Just the one, I think. Then again, I suppose there's multidimensional versions of this place too. There's so many alternates, I can't keep them straight anymore." Air...what was air again? He rose and approached the atmospheric controls, processor already sifting through the databases trying to locate "Earth air". Surely someone had recorded the atmospheric composition. "Ah, there we are! Let's see...78.09% nitrogen..." Murmuring the percentages to himself, he fiddled with the panel, antenna twitching excitedly as the levels began to shift in the room. "There we are! Hopefully that will keep you from suffocating." 

Retreating from the panel, Rung knelt a little closer to the shelf, optics resetting as he watched Hiro carefully. "Let me know if it doesn't work. I don't want the first human I've met in person to accidentally perish." The smile returned as he registered the name. "Hiro...nice to meet you, Hiro." The mention of the bridge caught his attention though and his expression sobered some.

Bridge physics and operations weren't his specialty. He could barely understand the basic commands to operate the device, but considering the sorts of shenanigans the transporter device usually brought to their doorstep, he wouldn't put it past it to frag up a human's attempt at travel. "I see. I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Home is on Earth, I presume?"

[hamadafighterarchive]

It took him a few more moments of staring to gather that he was being addressed. He blinked and moved towards the edge of the shelf, staring down at the other robot. He was used to Baymax, but not someone this slim and stick like. But, there was a familiar word. Cybertronian. His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Nope, not one of those,” he replied, taking a quick look around the room, “Human, though.” "Wars aren’t really my thing," he replied. Which wasn’t entirely true. When you were a super hero,wars were things you had to learn to face. But, why was he always thrust from this to that? His leaps were getting further from his desired destination. "What?" He looked back towards the stick bot and crouched down, resting his elbows against his knee pads. "No, not really," he mumbled, shaking his head. "I’ve been handling it well enough. Might cause problems later." He had yet to upgrade his helmet, of course. He hadn’t gotten around to it just yet. He stared with wide, curious eyes as he hovered at the edge of the desk. He felt slightly vulnerable without Baymax. He had no weapons like the rest of the group. He tried to act relaxed. “Where am I?”

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

A human, a real actual human was in his office. His optics brightened and his antenna flicked excitedly, though he kept his distance tethered to the desk. The last thing he wanted was to frighten the small human straight off the shelf. "Ah, well...you're on the Lost Light. It's an exploration ship." The frown deepened a little and he knelt, trying to put himself at optic-level with the unexpected guest. Something deep in his processor itched; something was off and he couldn't place it. Maybe it was just the uncanniness of human behavior compared to his own. 

Or maybe the human was suffering more under the atmospheric difference than he let on. "Are you certain you're alright? I can alter the room's ventilation a little to help mimic your planet's atmosphere, if that would help you some." The little organic was fascinatingly hardy. Rung knew that some alien species would all but explode in a optimized Cybertronian atmosphere and yet here this little one was, capable of communicating and surviving quite handily. "I'd offer you some snacks, but I'm afraid I don't have anything organic on servo..."

He paused before briefly looking stricken, antenna dipping in distress. "Oh goodness, how rude of me! I haven't even asked you your designation. I'm Rung. It's nice to meet you. What's your name?" Another short pause and he offered his guest a small, sheepish smile. "Additionally, how did you get in here? It's quite unusual that someone can bypass the security measures on my office."

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

Hiro frowned. A robot that was this small? He guessed that maybe Baymax was bigger. Then again, maybe not. He kept his shoulders hunched, eyes staring through the faceguard. He crouched behind the model, attempting to hide himself. The model was, of course, bigger than him, but not big enough to conceal his entire body. He crawled out from behind it and moved into view. There was no point in hiding when the robot already knew he was here. He stood tall as he walked from around the model. “Yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like this whole meeting of the new dimensions. He just wanted to go home. There was no other place he’d rather be. Large, brown eye stared at the orange robot and his head tilted a little, helmet sliding. “Are you one of the good bots or one of the bad ones,” he asked, sounding a little confused.

"Oh!" His entire frame stiffened in alarm as the intruder moved into full sight, the blue smudge becoming an obviously humanoid shape. A very small humanoid shape that inspired a brief moment of panic. The intruder had armor but it lacked the presence of another Cybertronian and it was short enough to compete with Wheelie. "Are you...you're not Cybertronian, are you?" 

The question tossed him off balance and he frowned slightly. "I...don't think wars can really be painted like that. But I'm an Autobot, if that means anything." He shifted around his desk cautiously, hovering at the edge instead of giving into the urge to dart over and check on the smaller invader. "...are you a human? The ship isn't causing you any health problems, is it?"

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

rurounidrift replied to your post:((Rung went to a model ship convention.))

((tell me there are cosplayers who mod their alt modes to look like certain ships.))

[[ oh my god could you imagine?!  That'd be so brilliant. Rung shows up every year in the same Arc costume and sometimes he just sits down and retreats inside the shell. ]]

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

((Rung went to a model ship convention.))

[[imagine that actually occurring for a moment though. imagine nice calm Rung all but vibrating in a room with a whole bunch of people because "omg there's models of ships I've never even HEARD OF what is the titanic this looks amazing who needs food when there's model WOW THIS GLUE SMELLS GREAT"]]

[hamadafighterarchive]

This was by far the weirdest dimension he’d stumbled into. What was this, some kind of ship? He’d seen enough of these. He wanted to go home. He adjusted his helmet as he hoisted himself up onto one of the various shelves. The place was bigger than him, that was for sure, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Models? Or, were they smaller ships? No, they were models. He looked around, seemingly confused. "Is this a joke," he huffed to no one in particular. How was he supposed to get out of this mess. And then there was a hissing of doors and a voice. He turned to look behind him and quickly hid behind one of the models as best he could. A robot? All right, familiar territory, but this one seemed sentient. Not like a programmable, like Baymax. He tried to remain quiet, yet also tried to see what the bot was doing. He’d run into too many like this already and he’d learned there was a good team and a bad one. Which one was he stuck with? “He looks like a stick,” he muttered to himself.

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Hm?" Rung's antenna twitched and he glanced around the still office. For a moment, he was sure he'd heard someone. Setting the box down on his desk, he glanced self-consciously towards the ventilation ducts. Surely someone wasn't up there laying in wait. Again. He let a moment pass, staring intently at the grate before venting and returning to his box. If someone was up there, they'd either move on or come down eventually. Nothing to fret over. 

Unpacking the box wasn't much of a chore; carefully stacking the glue and arranging the paint colors on his desk was soothing if he thought of their impending purpose. The decision on which model to replace with his new one would probably be the most stressful thing in his day. Maybe the Ark-1 model at the bottom. The paint needed some rehab and there was an awfully dark splotch near the aft thrusters that seemed to be moving. Rung paused, turning his optics up from the desk to investigate the model again. The splotch seemed to have vanished from sight.

"...is someone there?" 

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Hello everyone!" 

Rung trotted back into his office with a smile, greeting the models as he hefted a box into his office. He'd spent his off-day collecting paint and glue supplies so he could work on his models without interruption. All there was left to do now was to shut the door on his quiet office, prepare a few snacks, and enjoy the overpowering, noxious odor of model glue. 

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

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[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

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[hitominotsubasa-deactivated2016]

They swallow hard. “I’m from Earth…”

"Oh!" His entire face lights up at the idea. "Really?! I’ve never spoken with an Earth native before. Do you like it there?"

"It has some benefits. Delicious food, good music. Could do without most of the people, though…"

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Ah, I see." He's smiling widely on the other end of the line. "Please pardon my curiosity...I've never been out of Cybertronian space before. Is Earth as organic as everyone says?" 

[hitominotsubasa-deactivated2016]

Calming down, slowly but surely. “That was German. An Earth language.”

"German? Oh! From Earth! How lovely. When did you get to visit Earth?"

They swallow hard. “I’m from Earth…”

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Oh!" His entire face lights up at the idea. "Really?! I've never spoken with an Earth native before. Do you like it there?"

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"That’s probable." he replied, leanin back on the couch somewhat, a slow ex-vent leaving him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had gotten used to the less weight he had to carry, but it still felt that a part of him was missing. "Its just … troublesome."

"Most uncomfortable things are." He took a moment to himself, draining the cube and settling the empty back onto his desk. Something in his processor twitched and Rung glanced back up, eyeing where the fusion cannon had once sat. 

"...considering your current position, do you think having your cannon returned would help your discomfort?" 

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

He hasn't spoken to Rung in awhile. Maybe a little ping?

A ping! Who’s ping was that? A friendly ping indeed! 

{Thundercracker!} My goodness, you can hear that smile. {Hello! How have you been?}

[maverickofmayhem]

::Well hey! There’s only a little bit that I’ve got plans, an’ even then they don’t take up th’ whole day. So yeah, give me a holler when you’re ready.:: He hummed, thinking. ::Is there anythin’ I’d need t’ bring?::

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

There's a pause; he's checking the recipes lists. {...uh...no! No, nothing specific. Oh! Unless you have any pre-made decoratives you wish to use. Or molds.} 

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Just generally. It made me feel whole, safe I suppose" he responded with a small shrug, unsure else how to explain his mild distress without it. "It was fine at first, it was a necessity of my defection but … it just became an itch without days later"

The self-analysis brought a smile to Rung's face and he nodded, taking another sip before adding in his own two cents. "You're a leader, a captain, responsible for lives outside your own. Regardless for your reasons for giving it up, I imagine you've saved a number of lives by having it." 

[brittlesilverlord-blog]

There was silence for a moment while he looked away and out of the window to the space beyond. He wasn’t sure what he was doing but he needed to speak. “Its uncomfortable without my fusion canon, is that supposed to be normal?”

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

In the silence, Rung cracked his cube open and took a bracing gulp, optics brightening a bit as the fuel hit his deprived symptoms. He didn't need time to think when Megatron finally spoke. 

"I'd say it's quite normal, actually." He observed Megatron over the edge of his cube, watching his body language curiously. "Is there anything specific that makes you feel uncomfortable without it? A situation, a place...?"

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"No, I’m free now…if you don’t mind me eating?" Someone worked straight through lunchtime again. 

[brittlesilverlord-blog]

"Of course not." he mumbled as he came to sit down on the couch, rubbing his servo’s together. 

[dangerproneeyebrows-blog]

"Then by all means." Striding back to his desk, he palmed over the privacy lock for the door and picked up his neglected cube. "Would you like anything?"