More Admissions of Affection

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Goa Slipstream
Goa lays offline in the repair bay -- his arms lay awkwardly to his sides like he already in stasis when he got here -- not to mention being on his back, which Slipstream would likely note as atypical for the mech. An energon feed connects to a fuel input in his side, but it seems to be inactive.
Slipstream enters the repair bay after having noticed the fact that neither Firestorm nor Goa had reported in for guard duty at Megatron's Fury figuring she'd find one or even both here. She frowns a bit and moves over to the table, glancing over him to see if repairs were done.
Repairs? Other than scorching at seemingly random points across his armor, the mech looks undamaged. Whatever repair he'd undergone was long complete, if any, leaving only the work of paintjob. His optics, though offline, are nonetheless still an unlit brown-gold.
Slipstream sees the scorch marks and hmms softly, then reaches down to stroke her fingers along his jaw line. There's little she can do for him really, just wait it out and hope he wakes up.
Goa's visuals come online a few clicks before the rest of his systems, during which he's confined to glancing around the room -- it'd look much like panic if that wasn't normal for the nigh-paranoid Decepticon. Finally his jaw slackens. He speaks with the slur of the overcharged, though at the same time his vocalization hardware sounds damaged; Static fuzz and buzzes punctuate his voice. "Gnnnnnh."
"Where... is Firestorm?" He immediately tries to sit up, and just as instantly collapses back to the repair table with a jaw-clenched hiss and sparking from his motors.
Slipstream sees the light come on within your optics and can certainly hear the noise coming out of the vocorder. "She's here. What happened? Looks like you played laser dodge with Trypticon and lost."
Goa looks uncharacteristically unamused by the comparison; he is, at least, apparently too distracted to care, flipping his helmet from side to side trying to get a better image of the repair bay. "I'm... I'm really- not s-ZZ--ure."
Slipstream inclines her head a little, moving hand away from your face as you turn it to look around. "You'll remember eventually. For now you seem to be fully repaired. How to you feel?"
Goa finishes his flailing momentarily and locks his vision squarely on Slipstream. "Like I got run over by a truck." He's presumably aware of his position now, as he's stopped trying to get up. "I remember quite well. I just have no idea what happened."
Slipstream nods slowly, she offers you a hand, "Do you want to sit up and tell me what happened then?" she asks.
Goa accepts the offer, swinging his legs off the side of the table and sitting up. Almost as soon, his helmet rocks dizzily, and he reclines back to keep from falling forward. He almost seems precognizant of Firestorm's location, immediately locking on and scanning her. "If I didn't know better, I'd tell you she," he points, "tried to kill me again." The point of Goa's helmet turns back toward Slipstream with a weak smile.
Slipstream stands in front of you, moving to catch you in case you do pitch forward. She frowns a hint, "You told me something has to set her off to get violent so what did you do?"
"Nothing. Lots of things. Not violent. I'd rather not talk about it until she's online." He looks over at Firestorm again with a touch of concern in his optics, then back. "Sorry you had to walk in on that."
Slipstream nods slowly to that answer, "Okay, so you need her permission to speak about it or are you just giving her some consideration since she's involved in you being here?"
Goa starts to smirk a little. "When has permission ever stopped me, Slippy?"
Slipstream mms, "Point taken." she says, "I was worried about you two when you didn't show up for guard duty. I ended up taking an extra shift."
"... that's kind of you. I can roll with my own punishments, though, I mean..." He puts a hand to his forehead to face palm, and flickers his optics, startled by the yellow glow against his fingers. "... I'm not ready to leave the repair bay and resume patrols. I'll put something on the report. Would bad energon work, you think?"
Slipstream hmms, "I'd wait on someone asking for the report, for now though you can think of what you would say on it." she states, then takes a seat next to you, "Whatever it was that happened, it's obviously bothering you a little bit."
Goa leans against Slipstream unhaltingly, helmet on her shoulder. "Me and my being bothered, huh?" He snorts a little, choking out another staticky buzz. "Wooo-ould you believe me if I said you were wrong?"
The mech purrs quietly, though it's unclear if it's a reaction or if he's just trying to warm up his engines after being offline (and on the fritz, based on the sparking) for a while.
Slipstream smiles as you lean against her, "Depends on what you have to say when Firestorm wakes up. But if I'm wrong, then it’s just that I was incorrect. Hard to read you right now." she states, moving a hand to stroke along your back.
Goa seems to lack any sensors in the cape of his back, though that stands consistent with his reactions to the snapping and creaking of flooring heavy objects on it before. He turns his head aside just a moment to see what the scratching noise is. "What did you mean when you said Firestorm had you, too?"
Slipstream smiles a little to the question, moving her hand off your back to take one of yours, "I meant if she wanted to depend on my like a sister then I would do so."
Goa fidgets with the hand in his idly, staring back at the offline seeker, beginning to nod slowly. "She needs it. Reakrgh-ksssk---" He leans forward to fire a few blasts of air through his voice box and grasp at his neck, rubbing the damaged mechanism with an expression of irritation as he sits back up. "... yes."
Slipstream looks a bit concerned as you 'clear your throat' then nods, "I would admit it would be good to have a sister under my wing, as the saying goes. None of my actual sister units have come to join the Cons."
Goa disconnects the fuel line from his side and locks that plate closed again, hooking the pipe itself back over the side of the platform. He looks back at Slipstream, faceplates unkempt with beleaguerment, but in his optics and smile he glows genuinely /happy/. "Do you have any word of them at all? Outside the 'Con military or otherwise?"
Slipstream watches what you are doing, then to the question her reply is soft, "It happens occasionally that I'll hear from one then a long stretch before I hear from another. A few have left Cybertron on missions so I hear from them less."
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Intelligence Stat and SUCCEEDS PERFECTLY!
He examines the swirling lines of vaporized paint on one of his shin plates, grimacing a little. "Missions for somebody not the Decepticons. I won't pry." Stabilizing one hand on Slipstream's knee, he pulls that leg up and aside, awkwardly twisted across his lap, to test the control flaps and engine outputs on that heel assembly. The wheel spins forward and backward, and the exhaust blazes and glows -- an odd violet color. "Could be--khh." Goa warbles and turns his helmet away, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm guard. "Could be wooorse."
Slipstream comments, "We weren't all built for war and battle, one sister was a technician, another a shuttle pilot, yet another a scientist, and so on." she explains, glancing down at the leg you are looking over and hmms softly at the odd coloration. "Yes, it could." she agrees, "But I rather not think of the worse."
Goa flops his shoulder against Slipstream as he adjusts to examine the other heel. He pauses just a tick-- "...oh." He wheezes, "I figured you were all identical. Should've know better, k--hmm..." The color shift is mirrored in this leg, and Goa looks as perturbed about it as Slip does.
Slipstream takes the nudge of the flop as you inspect the other leg, "Not quite identical physically and certainly not in personality or even programming." she states.
Goa sets both down on the floor and tentatively stands, then spins around on one heel to place his hands on both sides of Slipstream. "Wait. Wait just one." He leans forward slightly. "A seeker shuttle pilot? Am I the only one finding this mental image ... a bit surreal?" Zoning out a moment to peruse his internal dictionary, he adds with an unusually eloquent flair, "Tautological?" He smiles so wide his optics wince.
Slipstream remains where she sat, watching what you are doing and being ready for any sign of you actually falling. Instead your hands come up next to her on the table and your face is very close, "Yes, a seeker shuttle pilot. Who better to fly a shuttle?" she inquires softly, "Yes." the question.
"See, getting my paint slagged, getting thrown around by Firestorm doesn't bother me. But being the only one laughing? That," Goa taps a finger squarely on Slipstream's chest, "That does. Look how bothered I am." He's still grinning. "You've gotta point, I know. What am I doing in the air, right?"
Slipstream sits there listening to all of this then frowning a hint at the laughing section, "What was I supposed to be laughing at Goa? You are confusing me."
Goa's optics haze up a little, turning them a frosty yellow-white. "Nothing, things. Absurdity. Slaggit, maybe my processor's just broken."
Slipstream raises up her hands to stroke her fingers along your jaw line again, gazing into those optics that are just glowing all wrong, "There's something odd about you this cycle Gooey, it bothers me."
Goa snaps back to. "You're telling me..." He slumps onto Slipstream, pressing his lips into the side of her neck. A long sigh escapes him. "Should probably have Shred take a look at it. These drones are useless for more than welding and maintenance." He nabs a pair of red lenses from his subspace, installing them over his optics.
Slipstream makes a soft mmm as you kiss her neck then nods to you, "You could do that, but she's tied up with working on Trypticon so I don't think you'll get her to take a look at you for very long." she states,.
"Just so I know nothing's horribly wrong. Nothing new, nothing I've not been through, but my systems could've gotten brittle. My diagnostics are fried," he mumbles, standing and holding both hands to the temples of his helmet. He takes another long look at Firestorm. "Was she alright when you checked?"
Slipstream nods to you and shifts her wings back a bit as she replies, "She looks physically fine to me, but I am no diagnostician or a medic." she pauses, "We could go out there if you wanted to, but she may get upset if we interrupt her work. If Starscream is there I'm sure us interrupting her would get him annoyed."
Goa shakes his head spastically. "No, no, she has to come back here at some point." With a quick hop off his tires he's sitting across Slipstream's legs, curled up, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. "When's your next shift?" he says, optics completely unlidded, wide.
Slipstream blinks as you go from standing to upon her lap and hugging against her. "Not for some time, like I said I took two shifts and Starscream said I should get some rest." she slips her hands over your shoulders to return the embrace. "Have something in mind Gooey?"
"Something? Mind? What's mind?" He looks up, confused, but not surprised by the returned gesture. "I don't know? Did you?" Goa coughs a little, pacing his ventilation to calm himself down. "... no, doesn't feel like being hit by a truck. Feels like a tank ran over my head." A subtle frame of green is briefly visible around his optics before he relaxes again.
Slipstream smiles to the question and murmurs, "Well I could think of a few things, but not where others would necessarily see us." she replies softly, "Unless you want to get caught?" she asks, sounding a hint like a tease there.
Goa looks between Firestorm and the femme in front of him a few times, sinking backwards a bit bashfully. "... not outside Polyhex. I want to be here if she's online." He raises one optic ridge.
Slipstream nods, "We can stay here then, not like the drones talk." she smiles a bit, "You are sending me some conflicting messages you know."
"I _am_ a conflicting message, I think." He thunks the side of his helmet with the base of his hand a couple of times as if trying to rattle something loose inside. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, though, Slips. Still skittish about training?"
Slipstream moves her hands to stroke along the back of your helmet then up toward the front so she can drag her fingers into the grooves there. "You are in my lap, like you want to do something and yet you leaned back like you changed your mind. A femme can get to wondering what's going on in a mech's head when he does stuff like that." then a chuckle, "I am not the skittish type."
Goa leans up, following the drag of Slipstream's hand, until he abruptly stops and lets her hook her fingers in with a flinch. "No. I got that," He can't help looking up warily, "I don't understand what you mean by something. I thought it was common knowledge we weren't on killing terms? And I can't practice jet judo inside..." His focus drops straight ahead as something seems to click inside his CPU. "Oh."
Slipstream feels the flinch and retracts her fingers, continuing to stroke your helmet softly, "We aren't on killing terms, and I realize you cannot practice it. But until someone clears you for duty you are not doing any jet judo." then she smiles, "Oh?"
Goa rests his lips at the intersection of Slipstream's canopy and fuselage, dimming his optics. "What were /you/ thinking?"
Slipstream moves her hands to stroke along the back of your neck, "Was thinking we could sit here, like we are, talk.. maybe kiss and touch. That is if you want to Gooey. If you don't, it's okay to tell me."
Goa rolls his optics, though eclipsed by his helmet. "So meek, Slipstream." He places a hand over the femme's chest, tapping his thumb a couple of times against where her spark lies. "This is what's got me all off-kilter. Since apparently you want to know."
Slipstream points out, "Would you rather I just slam you to this table and have my way with you.. because I am quite capable of doing so." she remarks, then her optics flicker at the tap, "My canopy?"
Goa makes no effort at all to hide a chuckle at that thought. "Firestorm did something to my spark. I think she brought some of my dormant systems online, ones I'd shut off or broken in the jungle, but I can't tell. Because, you know, she zapped my diagnostics into oblivion as an aside."
Slipstream stares at you wordlessly for a long moment. Stunned at your admission. Very slowly she asks, "You two.. touched sparks?" trying to read your face and optics.
Goa looks up in response to Slipstream's deliberation, the motion of expressive servos in his antennae clearly visible from this angle. "Is that bad?"
Slipstream's optics dim a bit, there's just a hint of disappointment on her face, but it's gone quickly. "Not bad, just not sure what to think about it. Why would you .. do that with her?"
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Awareness Stat and succeeds by 8! The total roll was 2.
Goa sees that motion of defeat and shifts to cradle his back in the seeker's lap, reaching up to stroke her jaw line like she did his. "It wasn't my intention, Slip," he says with a knowing tone, "I found out a lot more in that data link than I was expecting to. ... she didn't. Feeling someone's disappointment from the inside out..." He lids his optics, frowning tightly a moment, resisting that vivid memory's attempts to take over his emotional processing. "Wasn't the first time our cores had met, Slip."
Slipstream's optics brighten back up as you stroke her jaw line, gazing down into your optics she gives a hint of a nod to acknowledge it wasn't your intention. Then confusion dawns upon her face, "It wasn't your first time.. I thought you never met her."
He taps a fist on his chest. "That crystal does a number on your memory." Goa shifts to sit upward again, sighing through his teeth. "Neither does the trauma of... right, riddles, right. I'm pretty sure she and I are twins. I know, don't laugh..." His shoulder wheels spin in place as he mocks a glare, "The crystal, the data. It all lines up."
Slipstream nods a bit, moving her hands from your helm as you shift around on her lap. "Hmm, odd sense of humor your creators would have if this is true." she states, "A grounder and a flier as part of a line is very unusual at the very least."
Goa nods in complete agreement, nabbing one of Slipstream's arms and wrapping it back around himself -- at his back, under where the shell of his proverbial canopy diverges from his chassis. "Well slag, where do you think I get it from?"
Slipstream strokes that hand you repositioned against your waist, "Point taken." she murmurs, leaning toward you a bit, optics gazing into yours. "So you are really brother and sister.. the touching of your sparks must have rekindled your connection to each other."
"Yes. Which is why I wish she'd come online already. Feels odd. Slagger has a fuel tank the size of the second moon." He shifts closer as well, kissing the flat side of the femme's helmet. Pausing a click, he ponders, "Maybe you could pick up my sense of humor that way."
Slipstream smiles a hint to that comment then curls her other arm around to draw you close, "For your sake I will hope she wakes up soon too. But for now we are all comfortable." rubbing your sides near the hips, "I've a sense of humor, it just takes a form different from your own."
Goa's hips seem unexpectedly small for the mech's weight -- he lets said weight fall into Slipstream's arms slightly. "... I'll take your word for it. Maybe I'll observe it some cycle." Tilting his head, he adds, "Comfortable? Here I was thinking you were just tolerating me. But I haven't irritated your wings today, no?"
Slipstream smiles to you and says very close to your lips, "Not today, but you could touch them if you are gentle Gooey." Optics reading yours to see if she may or may not close the rest of the distance.
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