maskormenacelogs | [CLOSED] I gambled with my heart and paid the price...

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[CLOSED] I gambled with my heart and paid the price...

WHO: Knock Out & Rogue, Knock Out & Darin
WHERE: Various
WHEN: Forward dated to October 9-10, Oct 11
WHAT: Knock Out is having a very bad night. And the day after that isn't much better.
WARNINGS: Impaired driving, car crashes, ANGST

The date had snuck up on him, shuffled to the back of his processor by the million woes that the imPorts seemed to find themselves afflicted of. But his chrono wouldn't let him forget, and it hits him over morning refuel like a pile driver.

He tends to his work in his hangar on auto-pilot, mechanical and methodical, then he shifts to vehicle mode and drives northeast, up into Utah to the Bonneville Salt Flats. Idling on the edge of the roadway, this is the closest Earth analogy to his native Velocitron, and then he's tearing across the hard-baked ground.

Knock Out drives for hours with his tachometer redlined, with intakes whining and straining to pull in air cool enough to keep him from overheating, with vents puffing out supercharged hot exhaust. He drives until he feels like his rims will fall off, until he sags on his wheels in such pure exhaustion that he's only keeping to his alt mode because he's too weary to change back.

The sun has dipped below the horizon before he rouses himself enough to roll forward again, aching and creaking on dust-caked tires, back toward the highway and chooses a direction at random.

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[ It's late after midnight when her phone rings. Definitely not the appropriate time for a social call. ]

Rogue, are you awake? I have... a question. That I wanted to ask you.

[ And yet Knock Out's voice is polite, unhurried, as if that's exactly what this is. He's definitely speaking slower than his usual lively tones however, like he's having trouble putting words in the right order. Rogue has lost people by her own admission, and runs the support group, surely she has to have answers to questions like this, that's his theory. He trusts her, in a world where he doesn't trust many. ]

If there were someone from your world... someone whom you'd lost... if they showed up through the Porter, would you be happy?

[ A chronically light sleeper, she's up at the first ring, blearily looking at the screen in confusion before answering a moment later. Maybe Knock Out had forgotten about the time difference between De Chima and Jeopardy, or maybe there's some sort of emergency that he needs her help with. Whatever the reason, he's her friend, so she doesn't hesitate to answer.

His question... It gives her pause. His voice sounds slightly off, and the question itself is unlike any he's ever asked her before. They've spoken of their pasts before but this is something different. When she answers, there's concern in her voice, but she doesn't shy away from what he's asking. ]

Honestly, sugar, it would depend on the person. I've been here almost a year and I've... I like to think I've changed, that I've moved on from the life I left behind. That I've done my grieving and I've found a way to keep going.

[ Whether she's lying to herself about that is another matter entirely. ]

But... there are one or two people I'd be happy to see again, yes.

Knowing that you could have a little more time with them, even if you won't remember it when you go back?

[ He says the words with careful pronunciation like he's trying to measure each one as he speaks it. Or maybe he's just trying not to slur his speech, that's a distinct possibility, even though some might be slipping through. Knock Out gives an unsteady, depreciative laugh. There's the sound of his engine accelerating in the background. ]

Or would it not be worth it, knowing you'd have to lose them all over again? That it wouldn't mean anything.

[ She cares for him far too much to point out that she might not have anything to go back to anyway, and if she does, she wouldn't remember anything regardless. Her situation is so vastly different from his in that way that saying so wouldn't help him, and that's very much what she wants to do right now. ]

If you're looking at it that way, then none of this means anything. What's the point of connecting with people here or working on things you're passionate about when you won't remember any of it later? What's the point of our friendship?

[ Sitting up, she climbs out of bed and wanders toward the closet as she forms her next words. ]

Knock Out, where are you right now? You're not really sounding like yourself.

[ What's the point of our friendship? Even in alt mode Knock Out recoils, soundly rebuked by the question, and for a moment there's nothing on the line but the sound of his engine and the whiss of airflow through his ports. ]

That's different.

[ He's not sure how, but it must be. Her query about his location throws him for a moment. ]

I don't know. I didn't use the Porter.

[ It takes him a moment to remember to query his own tracking data. ]

Denver, I think. I haven't... been paying attention.

[ It's not unusual for Knock Out to pull up outside Darin's forge complex, but he's never arrived looking like this before. Rather than gleaming like his normal pristine self, Knock Out's vehicle mode looks like it's been through a trash compactor. The entire left side of the automobile is caved in and shaved almost entirely clean of paint, both axles seem to be sitting crookedly, giving the car a distinct lean. It's been a while since he's been here, not since Darin opened up the additional buildings to public use, but he manages to find an open bay and rolls on creaking wheels into the spot.

Then he forces himself to do an updated diagnostic and puts in a call to Darin along with the numbered bay he's in. ]

Darin, I could use your assistance if you're available. You might want to bring your welding equipment.

Knock Out?

What happened? You sound terrible!

[ Thankfully his systems have since processed the large quantity of high-grade from his systems so he's no longer overcharged, but he is very, very hungover. ]

I had a disagreement with a highway stanchion. Or several of them, to be precise.

What?!

Hang on, I'm coming out.

[Darin gathers his tools and rushes out.]

Holy crap! Knock Out!

[ Really, he wants nothing more than to drop into recharge right now and sleep things off. That, sadly, will have to wait. ]

I apologize for dropping in like this without warning.

Don't say sorry, just tell me what happened!

Can you transform??

[Darin's already kneeling by Knock Out's side, inspecting for any major leaks or if this is all just cosmetic and body damage]

Be careful, there is energon in that wheel well. I'll need to rerun my secondary anterior line, it's only clamped off for right now.

[ The damage is more than superficial, and the frame of the car seems to have contorted under the torsion of the crash. Plates are punctured, springs wrenched, structural supports deformed. Splashed up against the inside of the front wheel are shimmers of energon, partly dried. At Darin's question whether he can transform, he murmurs a tired assent. ]

Yes. Give me a moment.

[ His transformation back to root mode isn't much smoother today than the last time he'd done so, on a scraped up stretch of highway outside of Denver. His plating hitches and clanks where it shouldn't, several of the worst bent sections seem to stick and get caught before jarring loose, and the whole exercise looks slow and painful.

When it's finished, it looks like he was assembled by something that only vaguely knew how he was supposed to fit together. It's not a good look for him.

Knock Out stands with his weight shifted awkwardly to one side, unable to put more than a cursory support on his left pede, where the dried energon is more evident. Several tonnes of mech falling on top of Darin might not kill the man given his particular strengths, but it wouldn't do anything for either of their moods. The medic hobbles to the nearest work bench and leans against it for balance, looking profoundly weary. ]

[Darin winces the entire time before he dons some heavy duty gloves, grabs a bucket with a large rag, and starts to gently climb up his robotic friend's frame.]

[He goes to work, first cleaning off dried and smeared energon while looking for leaks to patch. Halfway through, he stops and goes to get several cans of high grade oil. He took note of those bent panels and wrenched struts and he figures the least he could do is alleviate some of the joint pain with some hot oil. He soaks some rags in the stuff before tucking the cloth in the seams of the plating before he goes back to looking for more leaks.]

[As he works, he'll use his super human strength to straighten out struts and bend springs back into proper alignment, liberally applying oil as he goes to make sure everything that should shift and move doesn't grind when the mech moves or changes form.]

Do you want to go offline for awhile? I can work while you rest.

[ It's not the first time a human has used his frame to climb -- he was aware when Jack did it on the Nemesis when they'd all been stasis locked by the dark energon-infused computer, just unable to move -- but he still tenses at first before he gets used to the sensation. They work on repairing lines together, Knock Out's claws clipping out neat sections of wiring that will need to be repaired, holding paneling while the other finagles it back where it should be. He's grateful for the assistance, especially when the work moves to his pauldrons and back areas, where he'd have trouble reaching himself. He's tired and still in a moderate amount of pain (though he's dialed back the pain receptors in his sensor net considerably) but he's a medic, and he's worked on patients in while in worse condition before. It's mostly silent work, but teamwork nonetheless. Knock Out starts a little when Darin finally speaks, and the reply jolts out of him before he even thinks. ]

No.

[ The refusal comes out harsh, louder than Knock Out had meant to, and he resets his vocalizer with a soft pop of static. ]

No, I'm... not comfortable with that. Not because of anything you've done.

[ But because Darin was human. Because MECH were humans. And the association, especially in light of the last 48 hours, were too strong to push away at the moment. He removes his medkit from his subspace and unspools a length of clear tubing. ]

Here, I'll show you how to run an interlinear line.

Edited 2019-10-14 01:24 (UTC)

...Alright. I'll watch carefully.

[Darin's focused entirely on watching as Knock Out shows him how to run the line. But despite his incredible focus, the sound of Knock Out's voice reverberates in the back of his mind.]

[That wasn't sheer protest. That was fear. Something happened to Knock Out at some point...something happened when he or someone he knew was offline and was...wel, probably taken offline permanently.]

[He doesn't ask a lot of questions, save for the occasional check to make sure he's doing well enough to help and making sure he's not hurting Knock Out in any way. Occasionally he'll ask if it bothers him to be climbing on him this way, if he'd be more comfortable in his car mode, but honestly, being able to see Knock Out's face is helping considerably. See him react, whether it's relief or a wince of pain helps Darin know when his hands find purchase, when they're working properly. At this point, Darin's probably as covered in oil as Knock Out is, but he doesn't really care. He's not sparing anything here. If oil helps the mech find some peace, he'll use all he has.]

How are the hydraulics on your left side? You were leaning pretty hard earlier. Are you low on fluid? Any pump damage? How about your fuel injector?

They'll be better once we get this line rerun. Central pump is undamaged, injectors are clear. My self-repair protocols will take care of the smaller things.

[ The line repair goes smoothly, and then Knock Out releases the clamp that had been cutting off energon to his left pede and flexes it, all the gears and tiny linkages moving to stimulate better flow, restoring motion to the limb. Meanwhile the hot oil in his joints was doing wonders, especially where Darin was slipping it into small seams that he'd have little chance of getting to himself. It's almost as good as an oil bath. Finally Knock Out shoos Darin down and, in an incredibly rare concession to his finish (what little of it he has left), maneuvers himself into a sitting position on the floor. ]

Thank you, for helping. This would have been quite unwieldy a repair if I'd had to try it by myself.

I suppose I owe you an explanation for all this.

You don't owe me anything other than resting up and maybe letting me buff some of the scrapes out of your finish.

[Darin pats Knock Out's plating reassuringly.]

What matters is that you're okay. If you want to tell me what happened, that's fine. But if you need time to rest and process it all, that's fine too.

I'm not going anywhere and if you want to relax here, you know this place is as good as your home.

[ The offer to clean up his finish is kind, even generous, but at the same time rings with such familiarity that Knock Out's tanks clench in response. Does he want to tell Darin what's on his mind, what precipitated this? Not especially, but at the same time he feels like if he doesn't, it's going to rupture out of him like a blown gasket when he least wants it to, and Darin is... preferable. Some measure of safe, and trustworthy. ]

The accident is... easy enough to explain. I'd distilled some high-grade for Riptide and myself, for a surprise.

[ Then Riptide had Ported out and Knock Out had left it alone, until last night when he'd promptly downed the entire batch. ]

I just wanted to drive, and...

[ Forget. He'd wanted to forget, to let speed drown out everything else. ]

I'm afraid I handled it very poorly... my anniversary.

[There's still a lot about Cybertronians that Darin doesn't understand. And unfortunately, Riptide left before he and Darin could truly bury the hatchet and come to terms with one another. And maybe this is why seeing Knock Out like this seems so particularly painful. He genuinely likes and respects Knock Out...and from what little he knows of the war, he's seen enough to have nightmares for the rest of his unmercifully long life.]

[But when the word 'anniversary' comes up, there's a different pang in his heart. Whether this was something taken by the war or by others...Knock Out lost someone dear to him. And that? That's something Darin could understand.]

[Darin wanders back over to the bucket of oil and soaks another rag before draping it lightly over Knock Out's left arm. He might be doing better but just letting the oil soak into the seams and smaller gears and joints seemed to bring the mech a little relief. When he was done, he walks over and takes a seat on the floor next to him. Where he can sense him but not necessarily have to look at him. He knows better than anyone that making eye contact when you're hurting is like locking someone into an unwanted agreement.]

I'm just glad that no one attacked you. When I saw the damage I was afraid maybe some anti-imPort thugs ganged up on you or something...

[ Darin is welcome to ask Knock Out about Cybertronians all he likes; indeed, he may find the medic a more willing conversation partner on the topic than Riptide had been. For a moment he seems to have tuned out his surroundings, silently calling up and dismissing diagnostic information on his HUD, feeling his self-repairs beginning to tackle his secondary and tertiary systems, smoothing out snarled lines of symptomatic coding.

It's a lot easier than thinking about the last 48 hours. Much, much easier than thinking about Breakdown, which makes his spark tighten and shiver.

Knock Out starts a little when Darin lays a fresh soaked cloth on his arm and focuses on the blacksmith, red optics shuttering briefly as he takes in the man's oil-slathered appearance properly for the first time. ]

No, nothing like that. No one's allowed to ruin my finish except me.

[ It's a terrible attempt at a joke, but at least the effort is there. Knock Out looks down at Darin sitting next to him, and ex-vents softly. ]

You should get cleaned up. You've made yourself a mess on my behalf.

Hah! If you think this is the dirtiest I've ever gotten working on a project, you haven't seen anything.

Besides...it's just oil.

[Darin is silent for a moment.]

You know...when you say no one's allowed to ruin your finish...that could be taken another way entirely.

I guess...my point is? Finishing a race might seem satisfying but...it's better when there's people with you at the end, you know?

And maybe I'm speaking outta turn here but...well, you're my friend. And you've probably been through more in a century than I'll ever go through in my life but...

[He runs his dirty hand through his hair awkwardly. It's difficult when their perspectives of time are so different.]

Look, I might not be especially long-lived but I wouldn't be who I am if I stood by quietly when my friends were hurting. So...maybe next time, if you're gonna enjoy some high grade, I wouldn't mind drinking myself. And if you want to go for a drive, well...I wouldn't mind tagging along.

[ In the otherwise quiet of the engineering bay, Knock Out's cooling fans stutter a little before giving an emotional rev. Did Darin think him some naive sparkling, who'd never had to lose anyone? He was a medic for Primus' sake, the sheer number of mechs he'd known who'd died on his medbay table or in the field while he'd tried desperately to weld their vitals back together was incalculable. Mechs he'd known, worked with, fought alongside, called friends. But this was different, and he snarls out low and scalding, like a crucible. ]

I know it's better, I had someone!

[ And as suddenly as the ire came on, it banks, and Knock Out just sounds tired once again. ]

Darin... it's not that I don't appreciate your offer. It's very kind, perhaps moreso than I deserve.

[ He thinks of Silas who screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Good. ]

I don't think I'll be doing this again any time soon. I think Rogue might peel me right down to my protoform if I tried.

He's gone. I have to learn to adjust.

[Darin doesn't flinch when Knock Out's temper flares. Hell, he'd fought with Riptide constantly. A mech the size of a car who could effectively mash him into paste didn't scare him. Darin was only treading on eggshells because he was trying to be sensitive to Knock Out and everything Cybertronians have been through. It was out of respect.]

[But sometimes pulling your punches is just as disrespectful as barreling in head first.]

Would he want you to forget your anniversary?

He's gone. But he doesn't have to be forgotten, Knock Out.

Look, I'm not gonna pretend to know what happened. For you to act like this? it was probably horrible. But what happened isn't who you guys were. Instead of lamenting what took him, celebrate what you had.

And...I'm sorry. I know I'm tip toeing around the subject with you but...

You've got a good spark. And I hate seeing it so...out of frequency. You deserve better.

[ As if Knock Out could ever forget his partner.

As if he didn't still unthinkingly ask over his shoulder for some medical tool, still expecting Breakdown to be there to hand it to him, and for the reality to come kicking hard every time. As if he didn't come snapping out of recharge mid-cycle with the sound of Breakdown's engine still chasing at the edges of his recalls. As if he didn't start unconsciously planting himself with the Nemesis' imposing architecture at his back whenever he had to deliver something to Megatron, because there was no presence of warm and solid and safe standing behind him anymore.

Darin had it wrong. Knock Out wasn't trying to forget Breakdown, he was trying to find himself in an existence that no longer included his partner. He was trying to remember how to be one, instead of one of two.

Knock Out couldn't even dredge the wherewithal to be frustrated at the misconception, nor did he try to correct it. The advice Darin was trying to give wasn't bad, it was just... not for the right problem. Trying to explain it to the blacksmith, especially right now, would only do them both more harm than good.

He's so tired. Primus but he's tired and his spark feels like it's trying to rip its way out of his chamber, and the engineering bay feels too small even though it's spacious, and the only person he thinks that might understand is giving him counsel on the wrong issue.

Knock Out rises from his seated position halfway upright -- just enough to get clearance -- and then folds strutlessly into his alt mode without a word. ]

Knock Out...

[Darin pushes himself to his feet uselessly. What was he going to do? Get in his way? Stop him? He hated seeing his friend like this but even Darin could recognize when you had to work through something yourself.]

[But before Knock Out can drive off, Darin quickly steps in front of the car, holding up a single finger, asking for one moment more.]

[He hurries over to one of his many desks and returns with a small piece of paper. He opens Knock Out's passenger side door and places it on the seat.]

I...Listen...I uh...I was hoping to bring this up under better circumstances but...

Well, I remember how Riptide...he had a badge and stuff? For the factions in the war? I know that the war is over but...I also know the badge was a real point of pride and...

[Darin huffs in frustration.]

Not the point. Listen. This is a sketch of...of something I'm making. It's a badge. Something the members of Aegis Force can wear with pride and solidarity and...well, as co-commander, I was gonna ask if maybe you'd be interested in joining up with us. I can understand if you don't want to. And I can understand if you're pissed at me now but...

I just want you to know you have a place. Somewhere. It might not be the same as what you're used to but...

[He trails off awkwardly and shuts the door, patting the roof gently.]

At the very least...thanks for trusting me enough to come by and let me help you...

Edited 2019-10-21 23:02 (UTC)

[ It's not often that Rogue resorts to such brutal tactics. When the situation warrants it though, as this one does now, she doesn't pull her punches. If Knock Out is stuck in a doom and gloom state, she's at least going to make sure he keeps things in perspective. ]

Denver? That's hours away from Jeopardy.

[ And too far for her to get to him quickly. She sits down on the floor, leaning against the closet door, and stretches her legs out in front of her. ]

What are you doing all the way out there?

[ In fact it was about 15 hours, and Knock Out had made it in substantially less than that at his current speeds. A few times highway patrol had gotten it into their heads to give chase, he'd left them floundering in his rearview, unable to keep up. ]

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but that might be the high-grade talking.

[ And would also explain the difference in Knock Out's speech patterns. Then, in an apparent non-sequitur: ]

He was here, Rogue. I was reading back on the network and... he was here five years ago.

[ Riptide's war had been over; Knock Out's was most assuredly not, yet. He elects not to clarify the point aloud.

The medic had never badged himself, not keen to marr his fine finish with one. It had been a point of contention a few times in the past, but his usefulness as a doctor outweighed the idiosyncrasy. He'd often joked that Breakdown wore two badges -- one on each shoulder -- so that he didn't have to wear his own.

He knew that Darin was part of Aegis Force, but he hadn't known that his position had been elevated to that of command.

His path to the bay door is clear now, but Knock Out doesn't roll forward. Darin deserves better than the silent treatment after helping him, at least, this time and many before it. ]

If you've no objection, perhaps I'll stay here for a while. There's still plenty of bodywork to be done, once I've had a chance to rest.

[ She's been worried about him ever since the start of this call, little hints of something being terribly wrong nagging at the back of her mind. And then, suddenly, there it is. A ghost from long ago, rising up to haunt her friend with the most bittersweet memories and missed possibilities. ]

Oh, sugar. I'm so sorry. I can't—

[ Pushing herself back up onto her feet, she quietly opens her door and heads downstairs, keeping her voice low so she won't disturb anyone who may be sleeping or still awake working. ]

I can't imagine what you're going through right now.

[The relief that washes over Darin's face is clearly visible.]

Y-Yeah! Yeah...I mean...

Make yourself at home. It's no Stark Compound but...well, it's probably cozier.

I'll...clean up and let you have the run of the place tonight. At least this way I know you're safe, you know?

[ Knock Out rolls back so he's no longer angled for the doorway, parking and letting himself rest deeper on his treads. Hopefully by the time he comes out of recharge, the last of the aftereffects from the high-grade will have passed and his processor will feel clearer. Time enough for emotional subroutines to calm down and to be swept back aside where they no longer feel like they're taking over. Honestly, he should be ashamed of himself. ]

Goodnight, Darin.

No. You can't.

[ His agreement isn't harsh or acerbic, but weary. ]

When Riptide brought it up, I treated the possibility... like it was something unreachable. Even knowing there'd been another one of me here, I never thought that--

[ He breaks off, to the sound of too-fast tires skidding on pavement. ]

[ She's halfway down the stairs when that skidding sound comes across the line, the pitch of it making her heart race as she clutches the banister for support. ]

Knock Out, you're scaring me. Please, I need you to stop, at least while we're talking.

[ She can't be on the line with him if he crashes into something. Going through that, she just... she can't. It's selfish and weak but it's hard enough listening to him be in this much pain and not being able to do anything about it. ]

[ The skidding sound stops after a few seconds, and the roar of his engine resumes. He reassures her, but it's distracted. ]

It's fine, it's fine Rogue, there's no one out here at this hour, the road's practically empty...

[ And he needs to drive. It's the only thing that feels normal right now, it's literally part of his core coding, to feel tires on the road, to eat up the miles beneath his treads. Driving is like breathing, if he did such a thing. He takes what should be another gentle bend in the highway, but at his speed feels more like a sharp corner, and skids again. ]

You'd have liked him. He--

[ The sound of the skid changes, becomes sharper like a squeal and Knock Out bites out something in Cybertronian that sounds's all beeps and clicks and still manages to sound like a curse. ]

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[CLOSED] I gambled with my heart and paid the price...

FOR ROGUE;

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Nonah Forge - for Darin;

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