G1 inspired Original Character -
Robustus, a neutral medic
Tracking tag: goateeofgood
As rped by Zypherion
20+ years RP experience
Blog created 12/30/2014
Minors should not follow nor interact with this blog as there may be NSFW, medical, or otherwise mature content not suitable for you. Such content will be tagged.
Anonymous asks are okay, just keep it respectful. However, I reserve the right to ignore magic anons.
Please no godmoding (unless we discuss it specifically).
After previous encounters with mutuals that went badly I won't necessarily reach out to you if you follow which is why I am encouraging asks and DM conversations.
I promise that I will get to you as soon I see any asks or DMs sent to me (mind you tumblr is horrid about who sends DMs so send an ask to notify I should look for a DM).
I want to be as approachable as I can. Do not feel intimidated by my writing, my rules, or even by the muse. Trust that we probably share some sort of anxiety level with newfound potential rp partners.
My asks and DMs are open if you want to inquire about anything regarding the muse, a current role play we are engaging in, talk about ideas for a scene, plot you want to run by me, or just to say hello. If we are doing medical RP, please use DMs or the rp thread itself to communicate what Rob would find in scans, visually, or by feel.
This blog and blamethequints are my side roleplay blogs attached to my main personal blog zypherion.
Muse song list
Medical RP Etiquette that I've found useful
Thread Tracker
Blog Promo (feel free to reblog if mutual)
Robustus is the main muse. Any interns (currently: High Alert, Vitalink and Invictus) are added to a scene for medical scenarios. OC name mentions outside of medical scenarios are also used as necessary (primarily Shark, Tracer, and Barracuda. Others that may be mentioned are Heirophants Emberflare and Exalorian. Newly added: fellow medic Sprocket and Pixel the cybercat). Rob may not be fully portrayed as the profile below. I hope you find that Rob is /not/ a self-insert of any sort and my medical portrayals are not based off any sort of RL experience outside of front office medical schooling that didn't pan out.
Age: 20+ years RPing should give you a hint. I do not comply with any Age Verificaton for myself for a reason. Who I choose to RP with depends on my comfort level when I read your 'about the muse' plus rules and other info you provide on your blog. If I don't like what I see, then I simply move on. I expect the same from anyone seeing this blog or my other ones.
Just for full disclosure I have had memory issues since I was a child so may not remember telling you something or even what was fully said in a thread. I repeat myself you'll know why this is so, brain went brr.
- Zypherion
The below the cut is an edited profile (original version made in 2012).
Name: Robustus
Nicknames: Rob, Robbie, Pops
Human AU name: Doctor Robert Hugh Sterling
Gender: Male / Mech
Faction: Independent / Neutral
Function: Medic
Specialties: neural net, spark injuries, carrier/sparkling care
"Through my skills shall you find healing."
Note: This mech was trained at an early age to be a medic and since then has kept up with the medical advances. Often seeking out other medics as well as taking any classes to remain up to date. There is nothing he cannot fix, no matter the chassis design. Familiar with all worker and military class designs, both past and present. Willing to listen to a patient as they talk about what happened to them and may offer advice if he thinks that they need it. In his own way, he tries to treat the whole being of a patient rather than just their physical wounds. Takes his medical oaths very seriously and finds it difficult to bring harm to others. Respect and trust must be earned, but once you have them, he will be your most loyal ally and a good friend. Earning those, however, will take time and earnest dedication. Alternate mode is that of a hovertruck with a long, wide bed to carry patients upon. When not doing repairs you may find him singing or letting off stress in other ways.
Background
Personality: Interest in what the patient has to say before during and after repairs is the key to proper care. Patience and understanding are paramount for this medic. Bravely will go out during battles to retrieve the injured, which can put him in jeopardy. For him, knowledge is power, so will go seeking it. Will utilize a forcefield in both modes to protect himself and his patient. Doesn't believe in injuring others as it goes against his medical oaths. Susceptible to stress that comes from his job. Respect will be given to those that respect him. Trust will be earned and given out in return. Great listener and good at soothing fears or even giving out advice. Repair is not just about the physical wounds, but also the mental and emotional scarring that occurs as well. It is unthinkable to him to leave an injured warrior behind. Understands the need to better oneself. He enjoys the company of other medics the most as they all work so closely together and depend on each other to piece back together shattered bodies. Always willing to learn new things when it comes to the medical profession. He will sometimes go out of his way to find out what others are up to medically so that he can better serve a patients' repair needs. To him there is honor among medics and to deny a fellow healer new medical techniques is breaking your medical oaths. To pass the time when there is no repairs he may be heard singing or reading. A competent and dependable medical professional. Stands behind his medical oaths. Calming forcefulness usually wins out over hurt warriors. Considered to be one of the best of the medics on the planet. Soft spoken yet strong-willed. Listens to the woes of others as they lay on the table. Sometimes comes up with inventive answers or at least is the voice of reason.
History: His history is not common knowledge; in fact, you would be lucky to find any records about this mysterious healer. If you happen to ask him about his past, he will either avoid it or be blunt about it. He came from a small city that overtaken by Crystal City. He trained as a medic because he wanted to help those who were injured just as his creators did before him. He graduated top of his class. When the war began, he went to Crystal City and worked there for a time as a medic. Afterward, he moved on to bring his medical care to anyone who needed it via a portable medical tent. Crystal City holds his medical services on record (i. e. who he repaired, how he repaired them, patient survival rate, reviews on performance). To actually find where he was created and when, however would prove extremely difficult, but not impossible. If one does find it thought it will give a date about one eon before the First Great War and a location as Mecha which was a small city near Crystal City. Mecha no longer stands today. It is further noted that he had been seen fetching injured warriors in the midst of a battle as well as after the battle when the fallen had been left behind for one reason or another. Other medics in Crystal City would back these noted actions up as well as give their accounts of his medical performance.
Additional Info:
Current location is New Hope Clinic, which is an older building near the old shuttle pad that used to serve Iacon, Crystal City, and Polyhex inclusive. It is the culmination of his life's focus. He takes in interns from the medical academy whenever there is need. He enjoys helping the younger generation of medics show off and hone their own skills. He will correct when necessary and offer insight on a specialty an intern may wish to seek if he sees that potential in them.
Robustus has no living family and is, in his words, 'married to his work'. He did love once when he was a much younger mech. After her loss he buried himself back into his work. At his age he is realizing his chance of a family is slipping away faster than he realized.
He is from a long line of medics going back to the 13 Primes. A golden visor hides his true optic color, which are silver. Such a color is extremely rare and tied directly to his family lineage. He has to adjust his attitude toward interface preference over time due to the femme population altering during the civil wars. He'll try most anything at least once. He's very much the type to give you everything he's got in his repertoire with all he has in himself. He can be unflappable, considerate, patient, kind, caring, understanding, and tolerant. He doesn't get angry overly easy, nor is he prone to outright violence.
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
"I got it yes, along with the photo. I like that they went with a hairstyle contemporary to the time period that particular car come out. Not sure if any ladies back then wore miniskirts that short though." Robert replies. "I saw that your friend was released. Hope she is getting along all right. I'm sure Hernandez gave her a referral for where she lives so she can do follow up for physical therapy and checks on how the ankle bones are healing."
He has the land line phone on speaker so he can talk as well as listen while he gets his medical clothing off. She may hear the clothing rustle if she listens hard enough.
"Did you check out anything in town yet? See any cars you liked at the museum?" he asks.
Robustus got in touch with his shuttle mech friend Lift Off to see if he was available for trip from Cybertron to Earth. He heard back the following day cycle late at night that his availability worked in tandem with a date the medic had in mind for the trip.
He comms up Herbie to notify him of the date availability and pick up time window. They hash it out between them and Rob puts in for his long awaited vacation time. The clinic could run with Sprocket in charge with the interns assisting easily enough. The other full medic took a little convincing, but once he heard Rob had never had a day off, he was more amiable.
Standing at the abandoned shuttle pad not far from the clinic, Robustus waits for the arrival of Herbie and Lift Off both.
Robustus lets his crooked smile morph into a normal one. They'll chat some more as Lift Off pilots into the Milky Way proper. Keeping speed until he passes Jupiter where he throttles down on approach to Mars. He does his best to avoid the asteroid belt then on to Earth as he slows down again for orbital entry. The sun is beginning to set upon the west coast and he heads for the northwestern part.
"Approaching our destination." the shuttle mech announces.
The waters of the Puget Sound below have a few boats upon it still that are powering to docks before the sun fully sets. It looks like the shuttle is about to land in the middle of the dark waters.
"Base contact made. Awaiting landing pad clearance." is announced, then shortly after, "Clearance granted. Down we go."
With care the shuttle mechs lowers down, past the rim of what looks like a giant dome of metal and plexiglass. Visually the outside of the dome is very dark, but what light it spews out of the clear plexiglass casts onto what definitely looks like fish. With a soft landing attained the shuttle engines wind down and the mech announces, "You may exit your seats and make your way toward the loading bay. I have items for the staff here."
"Noted Lift Off. Thank you for the ride." Robustus offers as he unbuckles himself.
"Anytime at all my friend." is Lift Offs' response.
The rest of the ride is nice, Herbie hardly noticing the time passing as he talks with Robustus. It's only when Lift Off declares that they're almost there does he realize they'd gotten to Earth.
A careful squeeze of excitement to Rob's hand as they start their landing into water and the dome. Herbie almost in disbelief that he'd made it back to the little organic planet.
"Yes, thanks for the lift.~"
Herbie grins, enjoying a nice stretch when they can finally get up. He'd walk beside Rob as the pair make their way to the loading bay, taking in the area.
The arrival of the shuttle mech has drawn in a few of the base staff members who begin walking into the area.
"Ah good, additional help has arrived." Lift Off mentions.
As the two mechs within him step into the loading bay proper the shuttle mech opens the bay doors.
There's an audible gasp from someone outside said doors. One of the other staff members spare the femme in question a quizzical look as he steps up into the bay. The mostly dark grey mech looks to have some sort of camera alt by looking at him. Behind him is a two tone green femme with a light blue face and her companion also being two tone green with with more light blue to her.
Robustus moves over to a box to start working the strap downs off as do those that board the shuttle. The last femme who is orange and yellow makes her way in and approaches the elder medic.
"I cannot believe it, but here you are Robustus." she says.
He smiles at her, "Indeed I am my dear, I figured it was high time I got off Cybertron and come visit you three."
The femme steps closer, returning the smile, "Speaking of, I believe one of them if not both are running this way right now."
Herbie takes in these new bots he can see when out in the loading bay. Assuming at least one of them will recognize his partner in some way, since they're there at this time. And he's proven correct. One of them, a brightly painted femme, walking over to Rob as the elder medic starts helping with the payload Lift Off has.
Herbie watching the conversation unfold as he helps with another, smaller box. He's amused to hear that more bots were apparently 'runnin' to meet up with Robustus as the pair spoke.
Each individual heads over to a box except the femme near Robustus who stays nearby to help with the straps on the box he's working on. The strap downs for other boxes begin to be loosened as the two chat.
"I believe you, Tracer." the medic notes with a smile. "You three have my attention for part of my time here." a pause to look over at the racer, "And he has the other part of it."
Tracer follows his gaze and cocks her head, a soft hum as she takes the mech in then a look back towards the medic. "I think you'll have to explain things once we all can sit and have a chat Rob."
"You all will have it I assure you of that my dear." Robustus replies.
Its about now the sound of fast falling footsteps enter the audial range and begin to get louder. Its not long before there are two new additions running up to the shuttle and into its loading bay.
"POPS!" yells out a red, dark blue and light blue mech just before he nearly throws himself bodily against Rob with the biggest sharp toothed grin while giving him a hug.
An audible oof from the medic, his facial features softening as he smiles down at the shorter mech. "Hello my boy." his tone soft as he hugs him in return.
A soft laugh as the two tone brown femme approaches and says, "I think I see where he gets the sneaky side of himself."
"I do not sneak, I just know how to keep surprises well concealed." Rob points out.
Herbie just grins when the femme - Tracer, apparently - has her attention directed at him. Hands full of the cargo he was currently setting down, lest he'd wave at the same time. He's just making his way back to the pair when two more mechs rush into area.
And he recognizes one of them this time, though they've never met.
The triple changer from the photos in Rob's office. With his sharp grin and boisterous greeting, his identity was obvious. It was Shark.
Herbie hangs back a little, fascinated to watch his partner interact with bots that weren't part of his clinic or from the Autobots.
Tracer offers a smile toward Herbie, then returns to her task.
The two green and blue femmes have a large box already unstrapped and are lifting it up. The gray mech nearly has his medium sized box unstrapped. Meanwhile the discussion around the medic continues.
"All right I'll give you that much." the two tone femme states as the mech hugging on Rob steps back and she has her turn. "Its good to see you Rob."
"It's good to see you three too. Now then let's get this cargo off Lift Off, he has a schedule to keep." Robustus notes.
"You got it Pops." Shark states as he and the other femme move off to a box to work on the straps.
The medic looks over at Herbie and gives him a smile, then lifts up the box he unstrapped and heads out with it.
Kade rocked his chair back on two legs and planted his feet on the desk, patently bored. His continuing education video droned on and on about elementary safety checks which, while important, wasn’t something that a seasoned fire fighter like himself particularly needed a refresher on. Especially when he and Heatwave spent a week every school year drilling the exact same information into the heads of excitable elementary school children. At least their presentation had way more entertainment value….
“Sheesh, this guy could give Mayor Luskey a run for his money, how long is this video?” Kade had just started to reach for the computer mouse when a loud honk from outside startled him. Picking himself and his chair up off the floor, the fire fighter stalked to the window and leaned out to see an ambulance parked in the driveway below.
“Hey! What gives??? Shouldn’t you be over at the hospital or something?”
"The technology for such avatars have come a long way Ezra. The Rescue Bots were in hibernation sleep while in their ship for an amount of time I rather not disclose without permission." Rob notes, "I've already given the updated avatar version to Heatwave and I trust that he will ask for copies for the others if he feels they require them."
When Ezra sets the bowl of soup near Rob he smiles and picks up the bowl. "I am but a Cybertronian medic in a human avatar Ezra. I do not have the capability to make such a intricate device like this. Though I did have a hands on experience with working on transformation cogs when I was younger." he notes.
He'll pick up the spoon in the bowl and dip it into the soup. He brings it up to his lips and takes a sip. A soft hum. "What is this?" he asks curiously.
“They’ve shared the story of how they came to be here with Frankie and myself… Drifting for millions of years without even realizing it at first must have been quite a shock…”
Doc Greene shook his head as he brought his own sandwich and bowl of soup to the table. “Working with the very device that allows one to transform sounds… nerve wracking, quite honestly, though I imagine you must have gained an extraordinary amount of knowledge in the process.”
The scientist dipped the corner of his grilled cheese into his soup bowl and took a bite, swallowing the combo with a quiet hum of satisfaction before turning his focus to Robustus’s question. “It’s called soup. Usually it’s a vegetable, or combination of vegetables, that have been liquified, but some varieties add noodles, pieces of meat, or chopped up pieces of the veggies themselves… or all three, to add a bit of texture to it. This particular soup is tomato, though, botanically speaking, the tomato is actually considered a fruit, but in culinary circles it’s called a vegetable because of it’s savory nature—“
“Doc, he asked about the soup, he didn’t ask for a crash course in tomato science.” Kade was at the stove again, ladling yet another serving of soup for himself. “…. What’s a transformation cog?”
A soft ah at hearing the Rescue Bots had shared some of their history. He takes another sip of his soup, letting it sit on his tongue for a bit before swallowing. It was like having a warmed energon with different flavoring.
"It was a test of the know how of the team of mechs we gathered together to work upon cogs and alter them. Because of our work the triple changers became a thing. Heatwave is an example of a quadchanger." Rob explains, "We went through a little trial and error with non-functional cogs and worked up to ones inside a living mech or femme."
A little nod to the explanation of soup, "It has a pleasant tang to it that I appreciate." a smile at Kade, "I got my answer as to what type of soup, which has been answered. I do appreciate a scientific reply though."
He takes another sip of soup before he replies to Kade's question, "The transformation cog is what enables Cybertronians to change between our modes. Typically root modes are bipedal though there are instances of quadrupedal as well. then there is the secondary mode, typically a vehicle of some sort. There are of course non-vehicular as well. For example, a quadrupedal with a cassette mode. There's several of those about in both Autobot and Decepticon armies."
Doc Greene listened thoughtfully as Robustus explained how he’d gotten into working with transformation cogs. “A sound way of going about things. Were you able to maintain contact with the recipients to see how things held up over the years?”
Kade, meanwhile, was in over his head. He’d never really been interested in the scientific world and long explanations with big words usually resulted in complete lack of comprehension on his part.
"I have kept in touch with them via comms for the most part. I'm planning on visiting them in the future since most of them live on Earth now. Three of them are at the same base. Would be a bit of drive from Griffon Rock though. I might try convincing them to come here." Rob's avatar mentions.
He'll look over at Kade, "Yes, exactly." he replies with a smile. He'll work on a bit more of his soup as he watches the man search the cabinets for more food. A soft chuckle escapes him.
"Now Kade don't eat the entirety of the man's food supply, he has two growing children feed." he points out.
“Wonderful. If they come to Griffin Rock, I would love to meet them… but only if they have the time or inclination to socialize with humans, I know not all Cybertronians are keen on the idea.” Doc Greene glanced over at Kade with an indulgent smile. “Third cabinet on your left, but open it slowly, Dither likes to reorganize things and, for some reason, he has a tendency to stock groceries in the most haphazard way possible.”
“And I have a growing me to feed.” Kade opened the cabinet that Doc had indicated, quickly catching a jar of jelly and a few cans of tuna as they rolled off the shelf. He winced as a plastic jar of peanut butter slipped through his fingers and clattered noisily against the floor. “I think your shelves could stand a little leveling out, Doc… and Dither could stand a tune up. I mean, who stacks cans and jars on their sides like that?”
Kade dumped his armload of canned goods on the countertop and retrieved the crackers he was after.
“But speaking of children, is this visit happening before or after you and Heatwave have your ki- I mean your sparkling?”
"They would have the inclination. Their past base commander was a human that became part of S.T.A.R.S in the 1980s. They'd have to take vacation time and with the war ongoing I doubt I could get them here without a big favor from a friend of mine and I rather not have to do so for a simple one-day visit." Robustus mentions.
A slight eyebrow raise at Kade's comment, "I think you are confusing yourself with your brother Cody who is certainly growing. You, on the other hand, are not. Besides isn't there a whole eat healthy thing for you humans? Not to mention a being certain not to overeat or too close to important meals in the day?" he asks, honestly curious.
The peanut butter and tuna cans come rolling out. He let's Kade deal with grabbing them before they roll off too far. Then Kade hits him with the important question, the timing of the visit.
"Considering I should stick around Heatwave during his carriage as any good sire should, I shall wait until after the sparkling has arrived." he replies.
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
Robert gives her a slightly raised eyebrow at the mention of Tesla roadster being her choice of vehicle. She must be making a pretty decent amount of money as a runway model to afford it. Lord help him if she ever saw what he was driving. She probably thought he drove a BMW or something else ostentatious. He'll take his Chevrolet any day of the week thank you very much.
"That's a shame you aren't able to drive your vehicle due to the traffic, but it's beneficial you can walk to anything you require." he notes.
He'll eat a couple more spoonfuls of his soup that is cooling off as she asks her next questions.
"I like the 48 Tucker on display myself. It's been a favorite of mine since I first saw it at Marymount Military Academy where part of the Lemay collection is kept on display. I had planned on checking out what was on display, but then your friend had her unfortunate ankle incident." a pause as he considers the length of time, then answering, "Depends on the complexity of the situation. I'd say between an hour to two hours."
"Definitely keep wearing n' tear to a minimum. Plus Ah got a real nice wrap job done - she's a matte lilac. Total Barbie car. Not quite tha hot pink corvette Ah envisioned as a kid, but definitely just as good."
48 tucker? She had absolutely zero idea as to what that was, not that she'd admit it. Remind her to Google that later.
"And here Ah was hopin' it was one o' the models that piqued yer interest," she muses with a cheeky wink before another notification pings on her phone.
"Looks like even though the shows wrapped, they want us back in the mornin' ta shoot post-wrap promo. They're wsntin' tha models to pose with some of tha cars. Guess Ah'll be gettin' another chance ta see yer 48 Tucker."
Lilac seems fitting for her somehow and he's not sure why either. But his hunches have yet to be wrong. He had taken her question too literally and apparently incorrectly on top of it from her comment and wink she just gave him.
He stares at her a long moment in astonishment. Then he recovers and offers a honest yet cheeky reply, "Perhaps I was and am too much of a gentleman to outright flirt with a woman who is clearly out of my league."
He gets a couple more spoonfuls down as she talks and offers a nod. "Any plans for afterward then? I would guess you'd want to visit with your friend. Considering the time, it may be too late tonight to go visit as a guest by the time she's out of the OR."
She was quite proud of herself for being so forthcoming. And to render him speechless if even for a moment, simply added to it. But then he made his rebuttal.
"Outta yer league? Yer right about one thing, yer certainly a gentleman - but Ah think ya've got it opposite. A renowned surgeon who's busy savin' lives and broken ankles, versus a twenty-somethin' who's tryin' ta cash in on her good looks." Raising one hand and then counteracting it with the other like a scale, she laughs. "Ah think yer just bein' nice."
Folding her hands back daintily into her lap, she thinks a moment over his question. "It all depends on scheduling if Ah'm bein' honest. As much as Ah love Sash, Ah'm sorta stuck doin' whatever the agency says. She's managed ta get a vacation - albeit a real painful one. Ah'll try to stick around a lil longer in case she does get out sooner, but Ah should probably head back to the hotel soon. Ah'm overdue fer some beauty sleep."
He places his spoon in the bowl to give her his full attention.
"A surgeon that takes on patients who cannot afford the surgery otherwise doesn't make me renowned. It makes me a better human being than most other surgeons who are all about the money, fancy cars, big homes, and trophy wives." Robert clarifies, taking a moment before just coming out with it, "I'm older that your brother my dear. I may not look it, but I didn't exactly earn my gray hairs from stress. Hence you are out of my league."
Lord he could imagine the choice words her brother would have if he heard about her flirting with man possibly twice her age.
"As well you should, just as I need a good nights' sleep as well. The summer tends to bring in the Mothers' with their children looking to get them vaccinated or getting in their wellness checks." Robert admits.
His beeper picks just that moment to go off and he looks down to his waist, a worrying crinkle to his forehead. "Guess I'm not sleeping until later." he grumbles as he stands up and shakes his head, "I apologize, but I need to attend to a surprise."
Joke's on you Dr. Sterling, Tessa is absolutely going to flaunt the fact that she was getting flirty with a man nearly double her age - and have a great time doing so! Okay, maybe not. But his reaction would be hilarious...
Just as she was about to retort that age is nothing more than merely a number, Robert's pager goes off. Surprises. Yes. Life was indeed full of them.
"No need to apologize, duty calls. Hopefully it ain't too serious and ya can catch a good night's sleep. Ya've got mah number, so maybe hit me up tomorrow?"
There were few times he got worried, and this would be one of them as he sees the number on his pager.
"Depends on how things go I'm afraid." the tone in his voice indicating he's expecting a bad case scenario, "Have a pleasant rest of your evening."
Then he rushes off toward the nearest hospital phone. You'd think the good doctor would have a cell phone, but it appears such is not the case. He'd then disappear into a changing room to get something over his suit so it won't get overly ruined. Then off to a room for his little surprise in the form of one Mrs. Anders who is screaming for an epidural. The baby was trying to come out breach. He had to go in via Caesarean. It took an hour all told. Being a dutiful doctor he swings by OR to find that Hernandez is finishing up with the ankle surgery. Knowing the woman is in good hands he'll head down to his car and gives Tessa a call. He'll let her know her friend is coming out of surgery soon and to contact the hospital for her recovery room number in the morning. It's a short drive over to his home where he finally gets to get out of his suit and drop into bed for a good night's sleep.
In the morning he got ready for work, ate his breakfast, then drove over to his clinic. He went through his morning patients and at lunch picked up a phone in his office to call Tessa again. He asks if she slept well, if things went well with the shoot with the Lemay cars, and so on. Then lunch break is over as a nurse enters to tell him his 12:30 has arrived and awaiting him. He says he has to go and lets the young lady go about her day. The rest of his workday is filled with appointments dealing with the denizens of the Hilltop area and beyond. He swings by the hospital after work to check on Mrs. Anders and her baby. Since he's there, he checks if Sasha was released yet. Afterward he makes another phone call to Tessa.
A chuckle and shake of his head. "Not at all. Joined the Autobots and hasn't looked back. He has a scary mouth and a clever mind, but deep down I know he's a good mech." Robustus notes. A smile to the fellow elder mech, a closer look over the mech and a thoughtful hum. "Hmm not at first no, but I am a medic and I have very good observational skills. Doesn't hurt that I have a scanner to back things up either."
Naturally he won't mention what he may have seen of Haybail's augments or his general health. Best to keep that out of Sprite's audios until the mech feels it appropriate to tell her about said augmentation. He pauses as a comm comes in then a little nod. "Sounds like Lift Off is coming into Earth orbit soon."
'A good combination, honestly,' Haybail shrugged, but the idea of an Autobot with a typical Decepticon trait was still something he will have to wrap his processor around. Unless, that was the point. Were they going to go undercover?
Haybail actually started listing Autobots off in his processor to narrow down who it might be.
'Can I see you off?' Was something Haybail was about to ask, but seeing Sprite step up herself made him smile.
Robustus gives Haybail a little dip of his head, "You might run into him one day, he lives at the same base as the carrier femme I told you about Haybail. I consider them both and one other part of my found family. I love them as if they were my children. I trust all three with my spark."
He looks down toward Sprite, "Of course you can Sprite." he assures her.
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
Robert gives her a slightly raised eyebrow at the mention of Tesla roadster being her choice of vehicle. She must be making a pretty decent amount of money as a runway model to afford it. Lord help him if she ever saw what he was driving. She probably thought he drove a BMW or something else ostentatious. He'll take his Chevrolet any day of the week thank you very much.
"That's a shame you aren't able to drive your vehicle due to the traffic, but it's beneficial you can walk to anything you require." he notes.
He'll eat a couple more spoonfuls of his soup that is cooling off as she asks her next questions.
"I like the 48 Tucker on display myself. It's been a favorite of mine since I first saw it at Marymount Military Academy where part of the Lemay collection is kept on display. I had planned on checking out what was on display, but then your friend had her unfortunate ankle incident." a pause as he considers the length of time, then answering, "Depends on the complexity of the situation. I'd say between an hour to two hours."
"Definitely keep wearing n' tear to a minimum. Plus Ah got a real nice wrap job done - she's a matte lilac. Total Barbie car. Not quite tha hot pink corvette Ah envisioned as a kid, but definitely just as good."
48 tucker? She had absolutely zero idea as to what that was, not that she'd admit it. Remind her to Google that later.
"And here Ah was hopin' it was one o' the models that piqued yer interest," she muses with a cheeky wink before another notification pings on her phone.
"Looks like even though the shows wrapped, they want us back in the mornin' ta shoot post-wrap promo. They're wsntin' tha models to pose with some of tha cars. Guess Ah'll be gettin' another chance ta see yer 48 Tucker."
Lilac seems fitting for her somehow and he's not sure why either. But his hunches have yet to be wrong. He had taken her question too literally and apparently incorrectly on top of it from her comment and wink she just gave him.
He stares at her a long moment in astonishment. Then he recovers and offers a honest yet cheeky reply, "Perhaps I was and am too much of a gentleman to outright flirt with a woman who is clearly out of my league."
He gets a couple more spoonfuls down as she talks and offers a nod. "Any plans for afterward then? I would guess you'd want to visit with your friend. Considering the time, it may be too late tonight to go visit as a guest by the time she's out of the OR."
She was quite proud of herself for being so forthcoming. And to render him speechless if even for a moment, simply added to it. But then he made his rebuttal.
"Outta yer league? Yer right about one thing, yer certainly a gentleman - but Ah think ya've got it opposite. A renowned surgeon who's busy savin' lives and broken ankles, versus a twenty-somethin' who's tryin' ta cash in on her good looks." Raising one hand and then counteracting it with the other like a scale, she laughs. "Ah think yer just bein' nice."
Folding her hands back daintily into her lap, she thinks a moment over his question. "It all depends on scheduling if Ah'm bein' honest. As much as Ah love Sash, Ah'm sorta stuck doin' whatever the agency says. She's managed ta get a vacation - albeit a real painful one. Ah'll try to stick around a lil longer in case she does get out sooner, but Ah should probably head back to the hotel soon. Ah'm overdue fer some beauty sleep."
He places his spoon in the bowl to give her his full attention.
"A surgeon that takes on patients who cannot afford the surgery otherwise doesn't make me renowned. It makes me a better human being than most other surgeons who are all about the money, fancy cars, big homes, and trophy wives." Robert clarifies, taking a moment before just coming out with it, "I'm older that your brother my dear. I may not look it, but I didn't exactly earn my gray hairs from stress. Hence you are out of my league."
Lord he could imagine the choice words her brother would have if he heard about her flirting with man possibly twice her age.
"As well you should, just as I need a good nights' sleep as well. The summer tends to bring in the Mothers' with their children looking to get them vaccinated or getting in their wellness checks." Robert admits.
His beeper picks just that moment to go off and he looks down to his waist, a worrying crinkle to his forehead. "Guess I'm not sleeping until later." he grumbles as he stands up and shakes his head, "I apologize, but I need to attend to a surprise."
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
Robert gives her a slightly raised eyebrow at the mention of Tesla roadster being her choice of vehicle. She must be making a pretty decent amount of money as a runway model to afford it. Lord help him if she ever saw what he was driving. She probably thought he drove a BMW or something else ostentatious. He'll take his Chevrolet any day of the week thank you very much.
"That's a shame you aren't able to drive your vehicle due to the traffic, but it's beneficial you can walk to anything you require." he notes.
He'll eat a couple more spoonfuls of his soup that is cooling off as she asks her next questions.
"I like the 48 Tucker on display myself. It's been a favorite of mine since I first saw it at Marymount Military Academy where part of the Lemay collection is kept on display. I had planned on checking out what was on display, but then your friend had her unfortunate ankle incident." a pause as he considers the length of time, then answering, "Depends on the complexity of the situation. I'd say between an hour to two hours."
"Definitely keep wearing n' tear to a minimum. Plus Ah got a real nice wrap job done - she's a matte lilac. Total Barbie car. Not quite tha hot pink corvette Ah envisioned as a kid, but definitely just as good."
48 tucker? She had absolutely zero idea as to what that was, not that she'd admit it. Remind her to Google that later.
"And here Ah was hopin' it was one o' the models that piqued yer interest," she muses with a cheeky wink before another notification pings on her phone.
"Looks like even though the shows wrapped, they want us back in the mornin' ta shoot post-wrap promo. They're wsntin' tha models to pose with some of tha cars. Guess Ah'll be gettin' another chance ta see yer 48 Tucker."
Lilac seems fitting for her somehow and he's not sure why either. But his hunches have yet to be wrong. He had taken her question too literally and apparently incorrectly on top of it from her comment and wink she just gave him.
He stares at her a long moment in astonishment. Then he recovers and offers a honest yet cheeky reply, "Perhaps I was and am too much of a gentleman to outright flirt with a woman who is clearly out of my league."
He gets a couple more spoonfuls down as she talks and offers a nod. "Any plans for afterward then? I would guess you'd want to visit with your friend. Considering the time, it may be too late tonight to go visit as a guest by the time she's out of the OR."
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
Robert gives her a slightly raised eyebrow at the mention of Tesla roadster being her choice of vehicle. She must be making a pretty decent amount of money as a runway model to afford it. Lord help him if she ever saw what he was driving. She probably thought he drove a BMW or something else ostentatious. He'll take his Chevrolet any day of the week thank you very much.
"That's a shame you aren't able to drive your vehicle due to the traffic, but it's beneficial you can walk to anything you require." he notes.
He'll eat a couple more spoonfuls of his soup that is cooling off as she asks her next questions.
"I like the 48 Tucker on display myself. It's been a favorite of mine since I first saw it at Marymount Military Academy where part of the Lemay collection is kept on display. I had planned on checking out what was on display, but then your friend had her unfortunate ankle incident." a pause as he considers the length of time, then answering, "Depends on the complexity of the situation. I'd say between an hour to two hours."
The cross country flight was beautiful. Exhausting, but beautiful nonetheless. While she dreamed of taking to the skies in a private jet to places like Milan and Tokyo, flying first class to Seattle wasn't terrible - even if she was terrified of flying.
Sitting in the aisle seat, her french manicured fingers quickly wrap themselves around the stem of her wine glass as the plane hits a small pocket of clear air turbulence. Immediately, her friend Sasha, another brunette model who just sits happens to be sitting by the window is comforting her.
"Safest way to travel sweetie..."
"So ya say... 'cept car crashes don't kill all 130 people on board," the blonde muses with a snort into her glass of rosè.
|
Pulling up to the venue, the driver of the black Escalade opens the door for both beauties before rounding to the trunk to retrieve their things. The trunk is packed all the way to the roof.
"How long did you say you were staying?"
"Two days," the southern belle pipes up with a smile as the driver just stares. He and the bellhop were going to have quite the time unpacking all that crap and hauling it up to their shared suite as the girls would be practicing on the catwalk.
"Couture and Classics?" Sasha asks with an eye roll. "Hey, Ah think they're kinda cool!" Tessa murmurs as she passes by a rather scrappy looking old teal pickup truck. For some reason, it reminds her of her brother Colt.
"Tess... you're going to get rust on your dress!"
Laughing as she steps back from the oddly familiar truck, she gets focused on the task at hand.
|
It's a good thing they got there early in the morning, because showtime was that night! Final fittings, hair, makeup... it was all done just moments before the first seats were taken by attendees.
As the music queued up and the first models began their walks. Tessa and Sasha stood nervously in the back. Sasha had been complaining about the height of her heels. Six inches of art nouveau seemed a bit excessive, but it was the designer's vision. Still, as up and comers, they didn't really have a say. It was do your job, or go hungry. Okay, it wasn't that dire. But you get it.
Tessa was the first to strut down the catwalk. With her chin held high, she worked the runway like it owed her rent. She had her walk down pat. Pausing at the end, her dazzling baby blue eyes sweep the audience as Sasha appears at the opposite end to start her walk. At first, everything is going fine - until Sasha stumbles on her heels, and one suddenly breaks. Down she goes as her ankle makes the tell-tale snap of a clean break. Immediately pulling the heels off, she attempts to stand and continue walking, but goes down once again. Tessa is immediately there to catch her,m the second time, draping her friend's arm around her shoulders as she uses her own body to brace her.
"I need to finish, Tess." Sasha grumbles through gritted teeth.
"No shug, clearly yer hurt," the blonde whispers back.
"Take me to the end of the runway, I have to finish."
Raising an eyebrow, Tessa purses her lips and nods. Not finishing was not an option. It was an instant career suicide. And so, she helps Sasha finish her walk - but once they make it back behind the curtains, Sasha collapses.
"Pardon the interruption, but if there's a doctor in the house, please report to the lobby," pipes a calming voice over the speaker. But what was going on behind the curtains, was anything but calm.
Modeling events weren't like sporting events, where they had paramedics on standby for injuries. And at such a large-scale event, getting EMS there in a timely manner with all of the traffic and congestion at the venue, it made more sense to have someone assess the patient there while waiting for other help to arrive.
"Tess... how bad is it??"
"Uh, well Sash... yer foot ain't s'ppose ta bend that way."
And with that, Sasha passes out cold in her bestie's arms.
// fun fact. The dumbest thing I ever tried to do, was attempt standing on my ankle when it was broken in 3 places. The initial shock didn't register the pain until the adrenaline wore off, and EMS was threatening to cut off my custom figure skating boot.
"You would indeed need more than a couple days. Those are what I could think of on top of my head." Robert notes, a pause to give her a smile, "I'm sure she'll appreciate you doing so. It can be daunting to wake up with no familiar faces about."
He pays for his soup and takes a table that has just two chairs. He crushes one packet of crackers in his hand and then the other before he opens each one and dumps the crushed crackers into his soup.
"Brain surgery occasionally for those that cannot afford it. Cesarian surgery for the ladies that cannot give birth normally." he replies as he picks up his spoon and stirs the crackers into his soup, "I practice nearby, small clinic in the poorer section of town that was desperately needed some time back. Been there ever since doing general practice, gynecologic, and obstetrics for the lower income families in the area."
He'll spoon up some soup and eat it. Humming softly at the taste. A little dip of his head to her apology that her Marine brother was calling her. Upon her return he cocks his head a little at the age difference between herself and said brother.
"I'd take it your mother had him early then." he proclaims, "My kudos to your brother and sincere thanks for his service. I only stayed out of the military myself because I was studying to be a doctor when one of the middle east wars kicked off." he notes.
"That's truly amazin'. Growin' up and bein' raised in a rural area mahself, it's a blessin' when good people step up fer those that really need tha help. Ah pretty much grew up off tha grid, workin' on a cattle ranch. Everythin' we had was produced on tha farm. So when we got sick? It was honey n' onion syrup. Stomach aches? Ginger root tea. Pain? Shot o' whiskey. Somehow, we managed to survive," she muses with a soft chuckle. "It was quite a shock movin' to Manhattan, that's for sure."
Yes, how the tides have turned from wearing darned frocks to designer duds. If it weren't for her accent, it would have been hard to discern her from the posh nepobabies from the upper east side.
Talk about a glow up...
"Ah'll be sure ta give him yer gratitude. And to answer yer question, yes. 17 when she had him, 37 when Ah came about. Won't neither of us planned. Life's full o' surprises, ain't it?"
Leaning back in her seat, she takes another sip of her drink. "So. Do ya have any brothers or sisters? Did ya grow up 'round here?"
Robert eats more of his soup as Tessa talks. May as well since she is a yapper as she put it. He gives her a slightly bewildered look at the home remedies she ticks off one by one. He's heard some whoppers but those were definitely not from around here. Considering her accent he'd guess somewhere in the south. He listens politely, taking it all in until she gives him an opening with her questions.
"I could imagine anywhere in New York City would be a shock compared to a cattle ranch." he states, then a little nod to when her Mother had the two. "It is when you don't plan for things yes." he agrees. He pauses to sip down some of his water then answers those questions. "Unfortunately, my parents and siblings are all gone now. I am the last of the Sterlings around here. Got a niece and nephew, one in Californa and the other in Kansas. Born in Seattle, my parents had a place built on the outskirts of Gig Harbor when things were cheaper. Sold their place after they died. Got a little place of my own that was built around the 1920s. Its quaint, cozy and tiny but in a decent neighborhood. Easy walk to the grocery store."
Snickering into her mug, Robert's musing in regards to the culture shock was an understatement. The closest town to home didn't even have a Walmart. But they did have a Dollar General... so that counted for something, right? Not really.
Listening intently as the good doctor spoke, she felt sorry for him. That sounded utterly lonesome. While she and her brother got along like oil and water, they at least had each other. Though with how handsome and cordial Dr. Sterling was, he certainly must have had an arsenal of friends as well as his pick of pretty nurses. She could absolutely see him living the bachelor life.
You're staring Tess...
Quickly glancing away, she's looping a blonde curl between her manicured fingers.
"So what brought ya to the show? You a big car guy?"
The fact that Robert isn't wearing a wedding ring or even has a indication he ever has worn one would indicate he is indeed a bachelor.
He takes note of her taking hold of a blonde curl that draws a quirk of a smile out of the doctor.
"Honoring my father and grandfather. Grandpa Sterling was big into the 20s and 30s era cars. My father was more into the 50s and 60s era ones. Dad enjoyed taking me out to classic car shows and would show off his car knowledge. I learned to appreciate them through his eyes." Robert explains. A pause before he adds, "I admit that coming to see what passes for fashion now was quite eye opening."
Robustus comes to a halt fully hilted inside her as she explains herself as best she can. What little she reveals is the reason for his pause. He takes a moment to adjust his grip on her wrists and reposition her arms afterward.
He moves his other hand to stroke it along her arched back, thinking this out for a short period of time. A little shiver moves through his frame as her calipers massage his spike, greedily working the entirety of it.
"I know what that is like Mourningstar. When I was a younger mech, I used to pole dance with nothing more than modesty pieces over my interface equipment. I did sexual favors on top of it too. Trust that I was told the same thing, to not care or become attached. That was a difficult ask for me considering I was raised around caring and loving parents and siblings."
He adjusts his stance little and starts up thrusting again. This time it's a more medium pace that slams all the way into her and nearly pulls free.
"Just as it's a hard ask now." Robustus admits. "I care to a degree about everyone. Some more than others. It's really about how I feel about an individual." a pause as he nips the back of her neck, "I want to be clear with you that I don't do casual frags."
Is he implying that this isn't what he thinks this is? Hard to say. He certainly not outwardly stating it.
It was an emotional thing to admit, but it felt oddly nice to speak with someone on such a personal level rather than just keeping it superficial. Although, the silence and halting put her on edge, almost as if she were expecting to get scolded for what she said... Her frame relaxed when she felt Robustus' servo stroked along her spinal strut, earning a low, approving purr while she arched into the touch. With the lack of overstimulation, Mourningstar was better at listening to his response; the mutual confiding that made her feel like an actual bot the first time she had met Robustus in the brothel.
His experience may not have been the same, but just knowing that he knew what it was like to be taught not to love or form attachments, it was comforting. Rose-tinted tears began to well up in her optic sockets, touched by how genuine he was with her; even if there was no clear declaration of the feeling being mutual, she took so much solace in just knowing that he cared about her. A smile curled at her black dermas as she let herself shed a happy tear, sighing jubilantly as he began to thrust again while nipping at her neck cables.
"I-I'm so-ooh...!~ Happy...!" She mewled, huffing as the moans were pushed out of her vocoder with each push back inside of her valve. "Kiss... Kiss me...?" Mourningstar asked, swiveling her helm one-eighty degrees around so she could look at the medic, the look on her faceplate that of absolute delirious bliss.
The arch and purr into his touch makes him smile. His revealing what he did is to give her an understanding of his past and him as a mech as well. He's an honest and kind mech who is as forthcoming as can be.
Mourningstar's head pivoting easily doesn't overly surprise him, after all she had the tendrils that wouldn't exist normally in a Cybertronian frame. He looks at her tears rolling down her face, facial expression softening. Her saying she's happy and asking for the kiss hit him in a way he did not expect.
"I'm glad you are happy." Rob relates softly, slowing his thrusting just a little so he's not jarring her as hard to bestow a kiss on her forehead first, then one to her right cheek, and finally a tender kiss upon her lips. He only holds it for a short while then pulls back slightly, "Is that all right for a start?" he asks returning to the medium pace once again. A kiss pressed to her left cheek. "I think we should talk more in depth. I feel I am missing context and I'd feel bad if I do not divulge where I am mentally and emotionally. We can pause now or after we both overloaded."
She was so used to sloppy, lust-fueled kisses from clients that it was a bit of a shock to her when Robustus planted such sweet, chaste kisses on her blushing fascia and her dermas. Especially when he kissed her on the lips, it calmed her squirming, taking the breath out of her ventilation system as she ex-vented dreamily. When he pulled away, her helm unconsciously tried to follow, but was set at ease upon having another light kiss placed onto her other cheekplate. It made it all the more pleasurable once he started to thrust again, partially snapping her back to reality from having every one of her sensitive nodes getting sensually treated again.
"It's perfect..." The hybrid responded through an ex-vent of awe, unable to stop grinning as if Robustus had given her one of the greatest gifts she'd ever gotten in her online existence.
"Let's keep going until we're finished...? Talking is easier when a charge isn't making my circuits tingle..." Mourningstar answered, still a bit dazed by all the genuine affection, her spark crying out for more intimacy with the medic.
Robustus certainly isn't the type to give or enjoy sloppy kisses. There are much better kinds to give, like the simple caring ones he bestows upon the femme. A smile as she ex vents once he is done.
"Good. Thought maybe I'd lost my touch with it after all this time." he remarks. He'll give her a nod to her decision. "Then let us seek that overload together my dear."
He moves his hand on her back to place it beside her, the other still holding her tendrils and wrists in place just under where the shoulder blades would be for a human. He keeps to the medium pace, pushing all the way into her then sliding nearly free. The lewd sound of her lubricant being pistoned into mixes with the metal to metal contact.
His vents are open wide and spewing out heat as he focuses himself completely on the tight coil in his pelvis. He'll groans out his pleasure until finally an overload grips him and he unloads transfluid into her. He slows his thrusting, keeping it deep as he milks out his own release.
send me ‘ kisses ‘ and i’ll generate a number for how / where my muse kisses yours
a lot of laughing, little kisses across the face
Just starts leaving little warm electrical pulse "kisses" along the elder mech's face after laughing at some joke Robustus says. But catches himself and pulls away, flustering.
Asking for more results in what is requested. It is good that the fellow medic is as eager as he to bring their bodies to the high that is overload. The sound of their bodies meeting at the end of the inward thrust blends with the sound of lubricant keeping the rut smooth and the slight little metal scrapes of Robustus being jarred along the floor. That's probably going to leave a mark, but he honestly doesn't mind. This right here is worth every mark, dent, and scratch.
"Oh Primus yes, just like that Ambler." Rob rumbles out needily.
The pleasure is coiling nicely in his pelvis. Valve squeezing down in a rhythmic way against the intruding spike. His hands come to rest against Ambler's shoulder as he looks up at him, watching his expression and paying attention to the feel of his EM field along with the heat of the other mech.
For some, basically keeping optic contact during might feel intimidating or almost awkward. But Ambler is avidly watching Rob's expressions as they continue, making adjustments based on what he sees as well as feels.
His EM all heat and needy for the other mech; affectionate as he responds with a lustful growl of his engine. Frame running hot as his hips actively pump away, stroking deep. And he's got a smear of Robustus' lubricant drying on his face guard.
Holding a gaze is easy with Ambler. He too is observing the expressions of the other mech as he thrusts eagerly into his valve. His silver optics continue to darken, looking more like a tarnished sterling silver or even pewter. The need and heat of the fellow medic making him groan in hold onto the mech's shoulders just a little tighter.
"So do you." Robustus replies, "So incredibly so." Then a loud moan as he hits the ceiling node. "Ah yes, right there."
He smiles at the drying smear upon the mech's faceplate. He's getting there, he just needs a little longer for the pleasure to build.
"If there's one thing you learn to develop in this business, it's a thick skin." from Robustus (figured this would work for a starter unless you are planning something?)
[I was just gonna send in an ask so this works too! lol]
@goateeofgood
"Agreed. A doctor is often seeing patients when at their worst, after all."
"I know the value of discretion and keeping another's trust Mega Ambler." Robustus assures him.
Once the other medic finishes his questions does he reply, "The Autobots are typically more friendly toward neutrals than the Decepticons. But there are always those outside of the norm for any army. I just haven't found a Decepticon that wanted to give me an in to one of their medics."
"We shall see how things occur. In the meantime I'll comm someone I know now while I'm here. May as well get things rolling on it." Robustus notes.
He focuses upon his private comm and sends a discreet ping to his contact. Almost immediately there is a response. He explains what he needs and the contact says he'll make a few comm calls on his behalf.
"Got a hold of the contact, I just need to wait on any replies he gets on his end." he reports.
Robustus got in touch with his shuttle mech friend Lift Off to see if he was available for trip from Cybertron to Earth. He heard back the following day cycle late at night that his availability worked in tandem with a date the medic had in mind for the trip.
He comms up Herbie to notify him of the date availability and pick up time window. They hash it out between them and Rob puts in for his long awaited vacation time. The clinic could run with Sprocket in charge with the interns assisting easily enough. The other full medic took a little convincing, but once he heard Rob had never had a day off, he was more amiable.
Standing at the abandoned shuttle pad not far from the clinic, Robustus waits for the arrival of Herbie and Lift Off both.
Robustus lets his crooked smile morph into a normal one. They'll chat some more as Lift Off pilots into the Milky Way proper. Keeping speed until he passes Jupiter where he throttles down on approach to Mars. He does his best to avoid the asteroid belt then on to Earth as he slows down again for orbital entry. The sun is beginning to set upon the west coast and he heads for the northwestern part.
"Approaching our destination." the shuttle mech announces.
The waters of the Puget Sound below have a few boats upon it still that are powering to docks before the sun fully sets. It looks like the shuttle is about to land in the middle of the dark waters.
"Base contact made. Awaiting landing pad clearance." is announced, then shortly after, "Clearance granted. Down we go."
With care the shuttle mechs lowers down, past the rim of what looks like a giant dome of metal and plexiglass. Visually the outside of the dome is very dark, but what light it spews out of the clear plexiglass casts onto what definitely looks like fish. With a soft landing attained the shuttle engines wind down and the mech announces, "You may exit your seats and make your way toward the loading bay. I have items for the staff here."
"Noted Lift Off. Thank you for the ride." Robustus offers as he unbuckles himself.
"Anytime at all my friend." is Lift Offs' response.
The rest of the ride is nice, Herbie hardly noticing the time passing as he talks with Robustus. It's only when Lift Off declares that they're almost there does he realize they'd gotten to Earth.
A careful squeeze of excitement to Rob's hand as they start their landing into water and the dome. Herbie almost in disbelief that he'd made it back to the little organic planet.
"Yes, thanks for the lift.~"
Herbie grins, enjoying a nice stretch when they can finally get up. He'd walk beside Rob as the pair make their way to the loading bay, taking in the area.
The arrival of the shuttle mech has drawn in a few of the base staff members who begin walking into the area.
"Ah good, additional help has arrived." Lift Off mentions.
As the two mechs within him step into the loading bay proper the shuttle mech opens the bay doors.
There's an audible gasp from someone outside said doors. One of the other staff members spare the femme in question a quizzical look as he steps up into the bay. The mostly dark grey mech looks to have some sort of camera alt by looking at him. Behind him is a two tone green femme with a light blue face and her companion also being two tone green with with more light blue to her.
Robustus moves over to a box to start working the strap downs off as do those that board the shuttle. The last femme who is orange and yellow makes her way in and approaches the elder medic.
"I cannot believe it, but here you are Robustus." she says.
He smiles at her, "Indeed I am my dear, I figured it was high time I got off Cybertron and come visit you three."
The femme steps closer, returning the smile, "Speaking of, I believe one of them if not both are running this way right now."
Herbie takes in these new bots he can see when out in the loading bay. Assuming at least one of them will recognize his partner in some way, since they're there at this time. And he's proven correct. One of them, a brightly painted femme, walking over to Rob as the elder medic starts helping with the payload Lift Off has.
Herbie watching the conversation unfold as he helps with another, smaller box. He's amused to hear that more bots were apparently 'runnin' to meet up with Robustus as the pair spoke.
Each individual heads over to a box except the femme near Robustus who stays nearby to help with the straps on the box he's working on. The strap downs for other boxes begin to be loosened as the two chat.
"I believe you, Tracer." the medic notes with a smile. "You three have my attention for part of my time here." a pause to look over at the racer, "And he has the other part of it."
Tracer follows his gaze and cocks her head, a soft hum as she takes the mech in then a look back towards the medic. "I think you'll have to explain things once we all can sit and have a chat Rob."
"You all will have it I assure you of that my dear." Robustus replies.
Its about now the sound of fast falling footsteps enter the audial range and begin to get louder. Its not long before there are two new additions running up to the shuttle and into its loading bay.
"POPS!" yells out a red, dark blue and light blue mech just before he nearly throws himself bodily against Rob with the biggest sharp toothed grin while giving him a hug.
An audible oof from the medic, his facial features softening as he smiles down at the shorter mech. "Hello my boy." his tone soft as he hugs him in return.
A soft laugh as the two tone brown femme approaches and says, "I think I see where he gets the sneaky side of himself."
"I do not sneak, I just know how to keep surprises well concealed." Rob points out.
Robustus comes to a halt fully hilted inside her as she explains herself as best she can. What little she reveals is the reason for his pause. He takes a moment to adjust his grip on her wrists and reposition her arms afterward.
He moves his other hand to stroke it along her arched back, thinking this out for a short period of time. A little shiver moves through his frame as her calipers massage his spike, greedily working the entirety of it.
"I know what that is like Mourningstar. When I was a younger mech, I used to pole dance with nothing more than modesty pieces over my interface equipment. I did sexual favors on top of it too. Trust that I was told the same thing, to not care or become attached. That was a difficult ask for me considering I was raised around caring and loving parents and siblings."
He adjusts his stance little and starts up thrusting again. This time it's a more medium pace that slams all the way into her and nearly pulls free.
"Just as it's a hard ask now." Robustus admits. "I care to a degree about everyone. Some more than others. It's really about how I feel about an individual." a pause as he nips the back of her neck, "I want to be clear with you that I don't do casual frags."
Is he implying that this isn't what he thinks this is? Hard to say. He certainly not outwardly stating it.
It was an emotional thing to admit, but it felt oddly nice to speak with someone on such a personal level rather than just keeping it superficial. Although, the silence and halting put her on edge, almost as if she were expecting to get scolded for what she said... Her frame relaxed when she felt Robustus' servo stroked along her spinal strut, earning a low, approving purr while she arched into the touch. With the lack of overstimulation, Mourningstar was better at listening to his response; the mutual confiding that made her feel like an actual bot the first time she had met Robustus in the brothel.
His experience may not have been the same, but just knowing that he knew what it was like to be taught not to love or form attachments, it was comforting. Rose-tinted tears began to well up in her optic sockets, touched by how genuine he was with her; even if there was no clear declaration of the feeling being mutual, she took so much solace in just knowing that he cared about her. A smile curled at her black dermas as she let herself shed a happy tear, sighing jubilantly as he began to thrust again while nipping at her neck cables.
"I-I'm so-ooh...!~ Happy...!" She mewled, huffing as the moans were pushed out of her vocoder with each push back inside of her valve. "Kiss... Kiss me...?" Mourningstar asked, swiveling her helm one-eighty degrees around so she could look at the medic, the look on her faceplate that of absolute delirious bliss.
The arch and purr into his touch makes him smile. His revealing what he did is to give her an understanding of his past and him as a mech as well. He's an honest and kind mech who is as forthcoming as can be.
Mourningstar's head pivoting easily doesn't overly surprise him, after all she had the tendrils that wouldn't exist normally in a Cybertronian frame. He looks at her tears rolling down her face, facial expression softening. Her saying she's happy and asking for the kiss hit him in a way he did not expect.
"I'm glad you are happy." Rob relates softly, slowing his thrusting just a little so he's not jarring her as hard to bestow a kiss on her forehead first, then one to her right cheek, and finally a tender kiss upon her lips. He only holds it for a short while then pulls back slightly, "Is that all right for a start?" he asks returning to the medium pace once again. A kiss pressed to her left cheek. "I think we should talk more in depth. I feel I am missing context and I'd feel bad if I do not divulge where I am mentally and emotionally. We can pause now or after we both have overloaded."
send me ‘ kisses ‘ and i’ll generate a number for how / where my muse kisses yours
a lot of laughing, little kisses across the face
Just starts leaving little warm electrical pulse "kisses" along the elder mech's face after laughing at some joke Robustus says. But catches himself and pulls away, flustering.
Asking for more results in what is requested. It is good that the fellow medic is as eager as he to bring their bodies to the high that is overload. The sound of their bodies meeting at the end of the inward thrust blends with the sound of lubricant keeping the rut smooth and the slight little metal scrapes of Robustus being jarred along the floor. That's probably going to leave a mark, but he honestly doesn't mind. This right here is worth every mark, dent, and scratch.
"Oh Primus yes, just like that Ambler." Rob rumbles out needily.
The pleasure is coiling nicely in his pelvis. Valve squeezing down in a rhythmic way against the intruding spike. His hands come to rest against Ambler's shoulder as he looks up at him, watching his expression and paying attention to the feel of his EM field along with the heat of the other mech.
