The Patient

It is late in the work cycle in Iacon. However, this isn't unusual for the slight, somewhat feeble looking psychologist named Rung--since he always leaves the office late on the last day of the regular work shift. Today he had been attending a patient who did not seem to be able to keep in mind that therapy sessions should be kept within a set time frame. But Rung is always one to lend a listening audio receptor even if it is at a cost to himself. Which is why it isn't uncommon for Rung to return from work exhausted and burdened with another mech's problems. With a sigh, the mellow psychologist steps up to the public transit platform to leave for his personal hab suite--after all, his alt mode is inefficient for travel purposes.
The transport ride back to his habitation suite is uneventful for the most part. Ther were the typical types he's used to seeing on this particular route at this time of the solar cycle. But when he arrives at his residence, he'd likely immediately notice that he'd received a call on his communicube from someone unexpected.
...The Ibexian Athletic Association? What could they possibly want with him? He's certainly no athlete.
The slight mech stops, his unique brows arching in surprise. He looks down at himself. He's probably the last person in Iacon--no, Cybertron, that the IAA would want to have anything to do with. His alt form is mystery even to himself and incapable of any kind of travel. Now what could they want from him. He approaches them shakily. "....yes...?"
Upon answering the call, the face of one of the IAA's representatives appears, and you can tell even just from his face that he's got more shanix than he knows what to do with. Paint polished to perfection, and fancy pro-athletic decor can be seen in the background. "Rung, is it? Your reputation precedes you. Please, have a seat, and stop looking so nervous." the mech laughs casually.
Rung tries not to tut at the ostentatious extravagance of the mech communicating with him. Instead he averts his gaze momentarily, sighs, then looks up at him once again before sitting down. "...thank you, I'm flattered," he says a bit insincerely. "Well, with how the government behaves these days, everything out of the ordinary can be counted as suspicious," he says, shaking his helm. "...now, about this call...?"
The mech dismisses the comment about the Senate and just smiles. "Ah, of course. To the point. My name is Axle, and I oversee the research and development teams over at the IAA. I've heard of your work, as I said, and I believe you are the ideal candidate for this. We have a...patient who is very unique, and we would like you to analyze data from his brain module. Given your exceptional performance as a psychologist, I believe you will be able to discern what needs to be done in order to bring this patient to a state that will allow him to function as a normal member of society." he punches data into a console off-screen, and a series of very large numbers of shanix appear on the screen. "You will be compensated handsomely for your efforts, regardless of success or failure."
Rung gives the mech a leery, arched eyebrow. "... a unique patient, you say? And how did he become like this?" the psychologist inquires. When the mech shows him the amount of money being offered, warning buzzers are going off in Rung's brain like a stray spark to gasoline covered grenades. His optics widen. "Er, thank you? So you mean that you will reward me even if I fail? That is.. too kind of you." He frowns a little, then sighs. "I would like to meet this patient first."
Axle shrugs at Rung's question. "I don't know, Rung. You're the expert on pscyhology, so I was hoping you'd be able to tell us the answer to that question." But he shakes his head when he requests to meet the patient. "Unfortunately I can't let you do that. It's against our assocation's policies--besides, he's dangerous and unpredictable. I wouldn't want you to get injured as a result of this."
"....you have absolutely no idea how he became the way he is...?" Rung arches a brow at Axle. He sighs, and shakes his head. "Well, you can't expect me diagnose a patient I've never met. Thank you for your concern, but if you want me examine him properly..." he trails off. "You know I do see patients on a regular basis with full knowledge that they are capable of harming me. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't."
"I know you do, but this time we can't allow you to risk yourself like that. Like I said, it's against our policies." Axle says firmly. "I'm not even asking for a diagnosis, I just want you to sift through the data and tell us what you think it means. We'll give you whatever data you think you need. Programming, behavior patterns, anything." The mech sighs. "Look, do you want to do this or not?"
Rung sighs. "....alright. I will look at whatever data you have, but I'm not going to make any sort of commitment just yet." He sighs. "If you can't let me meet this patient then I'm not sure why you're contacting me. At the bare minimum, I want to have a look at your facility."
After a brief pause, Axle sighs again, reluctance in his voice. "Alright, fine. You can come to our facility, and we'll even give you some office space there, if you'd like. Meet me at the Ibex main transit station at your convenience. Good cycle to you." The transmission cuts, and Axle's face disappears from the cube.
Rung looks a little shocked at the sudden end to their conversation. And despite the fact that all of this sounds terribly suspicious, he is intrigued. Axle has agreed to give him a tour of the facility and office space--that should at least give him a somewhat of an idea of what he might be getting himself into.
So the very next cycle, Rung arrives at the Ibex main transit station early in the cycle.
As soon as Axle has received word, he arrives at the station to meet Rung. He's a tall, stately mech who looks very much just as one might have expected him to from the call on the communicube. He smiles politely and gestures toward a private skycar that will take them to the IAA's HQ. "It's such a privilege to finally have the opportunity to meet you," He gushes on the way to the facility. "Your work is practically legendary to the research community."
"....er, thank you," Rung says, looking slightly overwhelmed by Axle's over the top sentiment. "...so. Tell me more about this facility you're running," he asks, looking around, "what kinds of projects are being overseen here?"
It's not long before the skycar arrives at the IAA, and Axle ushers Rung inside to a nice, large atrium with a reception desk. Heading past the desk, he escorts Rung into an elevator that takes them up to the top floor. "Oh, all sorts of things, though most of our projects center around enhancing the athletes' racing experience. Everything from gas boosters, to new aerodynamic frametypes, and fuels optimized for a myriad of sporting events."
The mech walks Rung down a few hallways, showing him various labs where different sports-related technology were being developed, as he'd mentioned. Lots of aerodynamic studies, new booster technology, and the like. Eventually, he leads him to the office area and show him to an empty room with a single workstation in it. "And here's that office space I was talking about. I hope you find it to your tastes."
"Enhancing athletes racing experience.. hmm. Very interesting." Rung smiles slightly, entering the office space Axle is offering. "...yes, it's alright. Needs a little bit of personalizing, but I will see to that." Then he pauses, looking around then over at Axle. "Axle, your projects... do they happen to have anything to do with the acquisition of said patient..?"
Axle rubs the back of his neck, glancing nervously around the room. "No, he was ah...one of our terrestrial racers, but he's gone completely mad. As I said, we aren't sure how or why, but we are working to help him out as much as possible, which is where you come into play." He takes out a datapad and hands it to Rung. "Here is the data we have thus far, and if you require more, please request it through the system and we will do what we can to get it to you as soon as possible. Do you have any further questions?"
Rung nods very slowly. "...Mhm. You really don't have any idea then? No past mental illnesses or trouble psychologically previously?" he asks suspiciously. He takes the data pad and scrolls through it briefly. "Very well then, I'll have a look and let you know once I've made some conclusions."
"No, his medical history is a clean bill. That's why even our best therapists have failed to find a solution to his problems. But I'm confident that you will succeed where they haven't been able to." Axle says with a smile. "Thank you, Rung." He then leaves the room and disappears down the hallway.
"...yes. Of course." Rung watches Axle a little suspicious as he leaves the office space that is now his. Putting the data pad down, he looks around the room. He pauses momentarily, then produces a small model of a galactic cruiser from his subspace compartment and places it on the desk carefully. Consequently, he sits down and starts reading the data pad.
According to the data, the 'patient' Axle is talking about can't seem to keep his attention fixed on any one thing for more than a breem, tops. He is insanely fast, and apparently he can't even speak properly. His mind processes information so fast that every time he is presented with something, he analyzes everything about it that his brain is capable of within less than an astrosecond. He can only pay attention to one thing for more than a few astroseconds if it is talking at him, and even with that, it seems that he quickly grows bored with it and wants to move on to something else.
Now, no one in the psychological community has seen such a condition, and certainly not one that has a sudden onset as Axle had claimed. No, this sounded much more like faulty programming...
Rung's dense brows furrow deeper and deeper as he reads more and more of the data. This 'condition' was highly unusual. In fact, Rung had never encountered a patient case like this ever before. It all sounded rather... fake. It made absolutely no sense that the onset of this illness could have happened within a span of a cycle.
Putting the data pad down, Rung emerges from his office. He is starting to think there's a lot more than meets the eye with this facility...
As Rung emerges from his office, a technician is walking by, carrying a toolbox and muttering indignantly to himself as he scrolls through something on a datapad. He nearly runs into the psychiatrist. "Oh, I'm sorry..." he frowns. "You new? Never seen you around here before."
Rung peers at the technician. "Er, yes. Axle asked me to be here to assist with the patient's psychological condition. The name is Rung." He pauses. "I must inquire. Have you met this .. patient before? And if so, what do you know about him? Where is he from? Was he forged or constructed?"
"Oh, nice to meet you, Rung. I'm Doubletap." The mech smiles politely, but then frowns. "Oh, the Patient..." he shakes his head, sighing. "So that's what you're here for. No, I haven't met him, in fact--no one has. I've only seen recordings of him. He's in isolation...they say he's too dangerous for anyone to be anywhere near him."
"I'd beg to differ," Rung quickly interjects. "I just read his file--and he doesn't sound dangerous at all. Just mentally handicapped and in desperate need of a therapist. And I intend to fill that role." He glances around. "Where is the patient?"
"Like I said, he's in the isolation block." Doubletap reiterates. His optics widen. "Wait, you're not planning on actually going in there, are you? No one's allowed down there, n-not even Axle." He sighs. "I'll admit though...this entire business has been rather strange. I have a feeling there's something about this that they don't want anyone else knowing about...I mean, how can they ever hope to fix this guy if no one's even allowed to see him?"
"Exactly," Rung states, "it's irrational. If they want me to treat him, I need to meet him first." He sighs. "You know, I am often brought patients who need treatment because they have been deemed a threat to society because of their mental deterioration. I've read up on his file and I think the whole idea about him being dangerous is a facade. There's something going on here that no one is allowed to know about and I'll be damned if I don't figure it out." He folds his arms. "Where's the isolation block?"
Doubletap sighs, looking reluctant, but he seems to believe in Rung. He lowers his voice. "All right, the doors are guarded by drones, I think I can get you in through the maintenance shaft I sometimes use to get in and clean out the ventilation and conditioning systems. Don't tell them I let you in if you get caught, okay? You seem like an honorable mech, so I'll trust you..."
Rung nods quickly. "Of course," he says, "I won't. And I will be certain to help you distinguish truth from lie once I uncover what is happening in this rather suspicious facility..."
Doubletap nods, and gestures for Rung to follow him. "Come on, now's better than any other time. While most of the others are on break." He hurries back into the elevator that Rung had come in, and directs it to a sub-basement level 2. They exit into a dark and barren corridor, hardly as welcoming as the atrium or the floor where Rung's office is.
But true to his word, Doubletap show Rung to a small maintenance shaft that leads into the ceiling, where there are no doubt a series of utilities that keep the building running the way it should. "In here." He whispers. "I think you should fit, you're pretty small."
Rung nods, following Doubletap quickly, glancing around quickly to make sure no one is watching.
Once they reach the shaft, Rung looks it up and down momentarily. "Yes.. thank you, Doubletap. I'll let you know what I find." And with that, he disappears into the small, dark crawl space.
"You're welcome. Be careful...I'm only reasonably certain they were making up the part about him being dangerous. I'd wait for you but someone might get suspicious. Good luck!" And with that, Doubletap hurries off.
It's very dusty and cramped in the shaft, and as soon as he enters, Rung can hear the loud hum of the building utilities shaking the shafts. But given his small the size, the psychatrist is able to make his way down to the isolation block. There's a small entry leading into it from the shaft that must have been for drones, but he can probably squeeze through.
Inside, the "Patient" is pacing back and forth, though "pacing" is a relative term. To Rung it would seem more like racing.
Without a lot of effort, Rung makes his way down the shaft, his weak knees nearly giving out as the hum of the building utilities escalate when he nears the room where the "Patient."
He maneuvers through the small entry into the isolation room quietly, simply observing the manic pacing of the "Patient" before approaching. "...."
The "Patient" continues pacing (racing) back and forth for a good breem once Rung has entered, apparently unaware that he's there. But finally, his erratic path happens to take him right past the psychiatrist, and he stops, and stares.
Just...stares.
As if he'd never seen another living spark in his entire life, or something.
Rung gives him a welcoming smile. "Hello," he says quietly, so as not to alarm the "Patient."
"Do you have a proclaimed designation?" he asks politely. "I am called Rung," he says gently and slowly.
The "Patient" just stares at him for what seems like an eternity even after he's introduced himself. Finally, he speaks, though he still looks shocked that someone else is actually -in- here.
"Waitwhatwhatareyoudoinginherenooneevercomesinherehowdidyouevengetinherehuhandwhywouldyouwanttocomeinherenooneeverwantstocomeinhere!"
It seems the report about him not even being able to speak properly was true. In fact, he was talking so fast that it was impossible to understand him. If you listened hard enough, you might be able to catch a -few- words, but otherwise it just sounded like a bunch of gibberish.
Rung's optics widen and he leans back a little, looking overwhelmed. He has just been hit with a tsunami. Of words. The "Patient" was speaking in a manner that was completely incomprehensible. How unusual..
Rung twists the thumb with the microphone implant in it absently. "....yes," he says tentatively, not sure if the "Patient" even asked question that could be answered with yes, "my name is Rung. What's your name?"
"BlurrmynameisBlurr." The speedster answers. That bit was -just- short enough that Rung could catch the name. Blurr glances around the room, then back at the psychiatrist. He really can't keep his optics on one thing for very long, can he?
He huffs and folds his arms, frustrated and disappointed because no one he's ever talked to can ever understand him, and for once he thought this guy might be different because...well because he came into the room? Unlike everyone else. So maybe he was different.
Rung pauses, listening very carefully. After all, that's probably one of his more practiced skills. He manages to at least catch that the patient's name is Blurr. "Blurr," he smiles warmly. "It's nice to meet you." He extends a hand to Blurr, making optic contact with the wacky speedster.
Blurr just stares at Rung's hand, as if not sure why he was holding it out. He just...looks utterly confused.
Rung withdraws his hand, looking equally confused for a moment. Then it dawns on him. This poor fellow has been in isolation for the entire duration of his short existence, and these inconsiderate researchers hadn't even bothered to program him with any common norms. Why, exactly, Rung still has to discover.
Rung smiles kindly at Blurr. "Forgive me," he says sympathetically. "I forgot to teach you the traditional greeting." He then extends his hand again, this time, grasping Blurr's right hand servo with his own and shaking it slowly but firmly. "This is how we greet another whom which we have not met before. It's called a servoshake."
Indeed, someone had been so excited about this project that they'd forgotten to put in all the common sense stuff. And since he'd never before met anyone in person....
Blurr watches in wonder as Rung grasps his hand and shakes it slowly, then nods.
Rung gives Blurr a cheerful look. "Very good!" he says. Then he glances around the small barren room. What atrocities have been committed against this patient? He hadn't even been given a decent hab suite...
Rung looks back over at Blurr. "Now," he says, "the servoshake is usually followed by 'It's very nice to meet you'." He pauses. "It's very nice to meet you, Blurr," he says, nodding, hoping he will catch onto the hint that he ought to repeat that phrase back to Rung.
The room has a recharge slab, a few simple seating arrangements, and a videopane in front of the seats, but is otherwise quite barren.
Blurr smiles and looks back up at Rung. Hey, this guy was pretty nice, and not so grumpy like the others. "It'sverynicetomeetyouRungverynice." Again, he's talking so fast that his words run together and are extremely difficult to discern.
Rung twists his thumb with the microphone implant in it absently again. "Ah..ah." Rung pauses, and pulls one of the chairs over for Blurr to sit on. He gestures to the chair mildly. "Sit, please."
Then he pulls up a chair for himself. "You may want to try saying that a bit slower--it's difficult for me to understand," Rung says kindly.
Blurr had been on the verge of running off again, but then Rung redirects his attention toward the chair, so he doesn't yet. He sits down obediently.
Then he looks dejected at the mention of speaking more slowly. "NonoIalreadytriedIcan'ttrustmesorryIjustcan't..."
Rung sighs, shaking his helm. "That's a frame of mind. The more you tell yourself you can't, the more you won't be able to. Let's just take this one step at a time." Rung sits down in the chair across from him and takes out a data pad. "How about just saying one word? Like your name, for example. Just try it. Say 'Blurr,' and then stop."
Blurr stares at him for a few moments. "Blurr..." Then he gets distracted. Because it seems that Rung was just able to understand him a moment ago. And that's...like, amazing. "WhoadidyoujustgetwhatIsaidjustnowdidyousowhydidyoucomeinhereinthefirstplacedidtheytellyoutoordidyoucomehereonyourown??"
Well, he definitely didn't understand him that time. Rung smiles. "Eh-heh.. " He rubs his helm. "Blurr, let's try not to get distracted, alright? I know that's very difficult for you, but try your best. Try saying just your name again, perhaps a little more slowly this time."
Say his name more slowly? But how can Blurr say his name any more slowly? It's only one word. He shifts nervously, looking around the room again before turning his optics back toward Rung. "ButbuthowdoIdothatIdon'tknowhowtodothat." He fidgets, moving the seat back and forth.
"Alright," he says patiently, "that's okay. I want you to try to focus on sitting--without moving, in that chair. And then, say your name, just once, as slow as you can say it." Rung smiles and leans back in his chair, waiting for Blurr to respond.
"Okayokay." Blurr stops moving the chair around. And he tries to keep his optics fixed on Rung and nowhere else.
"Blurr," he says, though it is so quick Rung can hardly hear it.
"Better," Rung encourages. "Hm.." He pauses. "Now, how about just pronouncing the first letter of your name? Like this. 'Buh'." He nods at Blurr to repeat after him.
Nope, he's lost Blurr's attention already. The speedster has already gotten up and is moving about the room again. Pacing in circles, sitting down in front of the videopane, moving the chairs around, sitting on the recharge slab, though there's not really much else -to- do in this very plain room.
"Blurr..." Rung sighs. "Can you sit down again please? I'm here to help you. I know this is hard for you, but I need you to do the very best you can."
Blurr keeps running around for a few seconds but eventually he comes back again. "SorrysorryaboutthatbutyouknowhowdidyougetinherebecausemaybeIcangetoutthesameway?" He's been stuck in here his whole life pretty much, even if that wasn't all that long. It gets pretty boring.
Rung smiles, but shakes his helm, standing up and dusting himself off a little. He can't really understand what the speedster is saying. But he's recorded their conversation, which he plans on playing back and listening to later. But slower, of course.
"Blurr, as you may know I'm not supposed to be here and I think I've overstayed. I must go now. Farewell, for now. I enjoyed the time I spent here." And he starts towards the shaft.
Oh...Rung can't understand him anymore. Blurr looks dejected again, and stares at the floor. And then, he says he's leaving? But--!
"Wait!" he calls out, actually sounding somewhat normal. And he stares pleadingly at the psychiatrist, wondering if he'll ever come back. Now that he's been allowed to be in someone else's actual presence, he's probably going to be incredibly lonely after this...
Rung stops, and turns around slowly. "Blurr, will you do me a couple favors? Practice sitting quietly and saying your name slowly. Shut off your optics if that helps, or only pronounce your name a letter at a time. Try to focus on doing only one thing at once. Then perhaps I'll return. Can you do that for me?" He places a hand on Blurr's shoulder.
Blurr nods quickly. "OkayokayI'lltrytoandthenyou'llcomeback?" He asks, looking hopeful.
Rung laughs kindly. "I'll try." And then heads up the shaft once more, leaving Blurr alone once again.
Rung takes this time to return to the office space he's been provided (albeit carefully so as not to be discovered). He plays back the recording he took, slowing it down so that he can understand what Blurr had previously said. Consequently, Rung leaves the IAA and returns to his own hab suite
Th next 48 cycles of his time are divided rather equally at his permanent occupation and studying the observations he's made about Blurr thus far. Then, the following week, he returns to isolation room, ready to gauge Blurr's reaction to his return. "Good cycle to you, my friend. And how are you today?" Rung asks cheerily upon his arrival
It's almost like trying to decipher another language, kind of, but after listening to it over and over again enough times, Rung may start to get the hang of discerning it.
This time, Blurr seems to have remembered where he'd exited the room, and was standing near the entry, waiting for him and looking rather thrilled that he's returned. "OhyoucamebackIwasafraidyouwouldn'tcomeback!"
Well, after replaying their conversation over and over again, slowly at first and then eventually bringing it up to speed, Rung is now able to understand Blurr much better. "Oh! Well, of course, I had to come back to make sure you did the things I asked you to do. Did you practise?" he asks, giving Blurr a warm smile.
Blurr nods happily. "IdidIdidbutI'mnotsureifIgotbetterornot." He gives him a curious look. "You'redifferentfromthemyoucameinherenooneelseevercameinhereandnoonelsecanunderstandmesoareyouspecialtoo?" He asks, genuinely wanting to know.
It takes Rung a minute to semi-comprehend what Blurr is asking. "....special? Er, well. No, not really. Not anymore special than you are," Rung grins at him.
"Alright, then. Let's see if you've made any progress," Rung says, pulling up a chair again. "Now.. sit, please. And will you say your name slowly for me? And sit still?"
"OhwellI'mreallyspecialthatmustmeanyouaretoobecausethat'swhatAxlesaid!" Blurr says brightly. He sits down obediently again, right across from Rung. "Okayokay."
He pauses, trying to concentrate on staying still. "Bluuurr." He says, drawing out the last part of the name slightly.
Rung frowns slightly. Axle told him he was very special? Interesting. Who was this Blurr fellow anyway? It seems that no one around here refers to him by his actual name, Doubletap and the others just called him the "Patient." Where on Cybertron did this mech come from...?
Then Rung grins, optics bright. "Very good. Excellent! Much better than last time." He pauses. "Blurr, where were you constructed? Or, forged, if you were forged. And.. how is that you happened to come here?"
Well Axle's claims certainly didn't make a lot of sense with everything Rung has been observing, that's for sure. If he'd been a racer before, how did he not even know common courtesies? He acted as if he'd never even been outside of this room in his entire life...
Blurr smiles, satisfied with his progress. "ForgedIwasforged..." Then he arches an optic ridge at him, looking confused. "WhatdoyoumeanhowdidIcomehereI'vebeenherefortwometacycleswhichisallmylifeI'veneverbeenanywhereelse."
Unless, somehow, they've pushed the limits of their experimentation so far that he's forgotten how to be--well, a normal Cybertronian. But that doesn't seem terribly likely--Blurr seems to be very naive and easily influenced which can only mean one thing: he must be very young. That seems to make perfect sense if Blurr is just a project creation and not an actual racer the IAA picked up.
Rung nearly drops his data pad. "F-Forged?" He frowns, pausing. "Ah, excuse me. So you never been anywhere except this facility?" Blurr is starting to make Axle look more and more like a liar by the klik. If Blurr was forged, then where the hell did the IAA get his spark? This is all starting to look much worse than Rung had anticipated...
"So... you asked and that's what they told you...?" Rung asks, taking down some notes on his data pad. "...What else does Axle tell you? About yourself? About .. well, everything?"
Blurr shrugs. "Notalottobehonesththat'salltheyreallysaid,theytoldmenottoaskanymorequestionssoIguessIdidn't..." Well that didn't sound suspicious at all. "TheysaidI'dfindoutsoonenoughinduetimesomethinglikethat."
Rung sighs quietly. "Blurr..what do you know about yourself? Other than your name, and that you've been here all along."
Blurr frowns at the question, silent for a moment. Then he finally answers with "Wellnothing..."
"...nothing?" Rung looks slightly surprised. "Oh.. dear." He puts his data pad away.
"WellIhaven'tbeenaroundforthatlongyouknow..." Blurr then looks concerned at Rung's disconcerted appearance. "What'swrongwhatisithuhwhat?"
Rung shakes his helm. "Don't worry Blurr, you're not to blame. After all, you've been shut up in here your whole life against your will." He looks over at Blurr, smiling. "But enough of that for now. Let's practice talking a bit more slowly again."
Blurr gazes at Rung with those optics full of naivete. He really doesn't know anything, does he? Nothing about himself, or about how to live in Cybertronian society...he's been locked up in here his entire life, isolated from the rest of the world.
"Oh, okay." he says obediently.
"Very good," Rung says with a grin. "You're already doing better with talking slowly. Now.." He projects a screen from his data pad onto the far wall. It show some simple sentences for Blurr to read. "Read these word by word, as slowly as possible," Rung instructs.
Blurr nods and looks up at the screen, and tries to read them as slowly as he can, but within the breem he has lost interest and again begins to wander restlessly around the room, looking for something else to focus his attention on.
Rung clears his throat. "Blurr, can you sit down please? I know this is hard for you, but you have to try your best..."
"OkayokaysorryRungsorry." Blurr gives him an apologetic look and sits down. "NowhatwasIsupposedtobedoing?"
Rung laughs. and points at the screen. "Read the sentence. Word by word, as slowly as possible."
Blurr starts the sentence again, but then stops mid-way through. "Rungwhydidyoulooksoworriedbefore?" He asks, looking curious. "IsitbadthatIdon'tknowmorewhatdoesitmean??"
Rung shakes his helm. "Blurr... focus, please. We can talk about that later." He taps the wall project. "Read the first word, as slowly as you can."
<<LOG TRUNCATED>>
LATER
Blurr is almost frozen there, staring up at the dancer as she touches him...in a weird way. "I--BlurrmynameisBlurr." he answers, having forgotten again to keep his speech at a normal pace. "You didn't answer my question, why were you hanging from that chain?" he insists, ignoring the other patrons, and Rung.
Before the fem can answer, one of the patrons starts laughing, and soon the others chime in. "Did you hear that guy talk?" one of them says to another, as if Blurr isn't standing right there, "What a slagging freak!"
Rung sighs, shaking his helm. "And who're you," a rich looking mech asks Rung, "his protositter?" He laughs and shoves Rung rudely.
Blurr turns around finally, because now they're laughing at him and insulting him. He's never been insulted before. What do they have against him? He never did anything to them...this certainly doesn't feel good. But it's when the mech shoves Rung rudely that really does the trick.
Suddenly, Blurr lives up to his namesake, and literally turns into a blur. WHOOSH --- he's gone from from in front of the stage, and before we know it, he's grabbed something right out of the mech's hand. He's not sure what it is, maybe it's a microchip, or a datapad or something but he just felt the need to taunt and frustrate him in some way.
"HEY! Give that back you little fragger! That's my personal electronic shanix accessor!" Why he's just holding it in his hand like that, no one really knows, but he's way overcharged and in a casino, so...
Rung recovers himself. "I'm alright Blurr, really, don't make trouble, please..."
Oh, but this is fun! Blurr grins like a human child in a candy or toy store. "Ohreallyisthatwhatitiswellinthatcaseyou'lljusthavetocomegetit!" he laughs and and climbs onto a table on the other side of the room, waiting for him to come running. Of course, as soon as he gets within an arm's reach, the speedster would just dash off to the other side of the room again.
"Blurr...." Rung sighs, sitting down heavily. "Just give it back..."
Then drunken mech stumbles clumsily around the casino, trying to catch Blurr but failing. "I'm going to call the cops on you, I swear!" But the guy can barely stand up straight. Finally, one of the drunken mech's friends notices the commotion. He approaches, smiling calmly. From the looks of him, he's rich racer and probably a member of the IAA. "Hey, hey, what's going on? Petty theft? Heh, what else is new." He laughs and pats the drunk mech on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll put the crook in his place." He turns to Blurr. "Hey, Zippy," he says with a saucy and mean grin, "why don't we race a bit, hm? Whoever wins gets to keep the data pad. What do you say?" He smirks.
Blurr ignores Rung and just zooms around the place, jumping from table to table and even running sideways on the walls. Oh, and making a huge mess wherever he goes, too. There's engex all over the floor by the time the racer shows up. But the guy has an interesting proposition. The speedster stops and peers curiously at him. "Race? Oh, as in a test to see who's faster? I guess I can't turn that down. Where will we go?"
Rung just looks very.. frazzled might have been a mild word for it. "Blurr... no.. stop.."
The other racer grins, downing his drink. "Outside. Follow me. I know a place not far from here, rookie." He tosses his cup aside and heads for the exit of the casino, while the fems giggle uncontrollably and rush after him.
Blurr follows the mech, quickly catching up to him. "'Rookie'? What's that mean?" he asks.
The stranger takes Blurr to a back alleyway behind the casino. It's pretty clean and clear, but very windy and hilly. The other racer transforms. "You ready? Alright, go!" And before Blurr can say yes, he's off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
A thousand things are going through Blurr's head now, though. How will they decide who was faster? How far would they go? Well..actually. It shouldn't matter, should it?
BOOM.
The speedster takes off, and before he knows it, he's traveling at the speed of sound and beyond. He could always move fast, he knew that, but he'd never had the chance to discover that he could move this fast.
"...Whoa.." the other racer mutters, when Blurr quickly catches up to him and passes him with ease. Revving his engines, he sidles up to Blurr. "Is that all you got? HA!" He pushes on ahead of the speedster.
Rung watches, smiling slightly with mild interest.
Little does the other mech know, that Blurr was actually designed to be not just a racer but the perfect, ultimate racer. A racer whose speed isn't limited by his perception. And this is proved when the two of them round a corner, and suddenly their path is blocked by a pile of empty crates. A typical racer's reflexes wouldn't be fast enough to process this information and take the appropriate evasive maneuvers in time.
But Blurr does.
He transforms and vaults over it, sailing through the air and transforming back into a vehicle again before hitting the ground.
The other racer manages to evade the crates, but not without slowing down significantly or cutting corners severely. He lags behind Blurr now, in silent humiliation.
Rung nearly applauds, but restrains himself, for fear the other patrons might get rowdy.
It's not long before Blurr returns to the front of the casino, clearly the victor. He transforms, beaming happily. "Wow, that was fun!" he exclaims. So does he get to keep that datapad? What would he do with it, though? Hmm. He stands there and waits for the other racer to make it across the finish line, a very smug look on his face.
But before he could think too much about what to do with the data pad, he's being surrounded by hundreds of other mechs, all who are marveling at his incredible speed. The fems are the first to surround Blurr excitedly, sidling up to up him and leaning against him in a sultry fashion. Then the others quickly engulf him, some firing questions at him while others simply stare in awe. It would also appear that there are some media bots at the scene, and they're eating this up. They're whipping out their cameras and mikes, filming him while the newscasters all elbow each other in an attempt to shake Blurr's hand and ask him what his name is.
As for Rung, well, he's been... er, trampled somewhat...
Blurr's excitement at the race quickly turns into abject horror. There are all these people...staring at him, asking him questions the answers to which he has no idea, wanting his attention...he just doesn't know how to respond to it all. And on top of this, he can't find Rung anywhere! He needs Rung, he's never been out into the world before, what would he do without his only friend?!
Suddenly, he desperately wants nothing more than to return to his isolation room, with the regular visits from Rung and only Rung, as he begins to feel faint with panic.
"What's your name? How'd you train up to being so fast? Was that difficult? How many cycles on end did you train? Where are you from? How come no one's seen you around before? Just who are you anyway?" Were just a few of the questions being thrown Blurr's way. The crowd presses in closer, threatening to overwhelm the speedster.
While Rung is haplessly squished between two large mechs, unable to move. He lifts his chin upward a bit, trying to glimpse Blurr..
"I...I-I-Idon'tknowIdon'tknowIdon'tknow!" Blurr suddenly bursts out, unsure of what else to say or how else to respond. And then, he simply stasis locks, and collapses on the ground in front of everyone.
Everyone gasps, and some medics rush onto the scene, scooping Blurr up onto a stretcher as they quickly take him to the nearest hospital. The entire crowd follows, much to the dismay of Blurr and Rung. And when Blurr awakes, he'll find a thousand faces peering at him, asking him if he's alright. Cameras are flashing, and a hundred mikes are being held up to him.
Rung, unfortunately, is still stuck in the hospital lobby, patiently inquiring about a mech followed by a large crowd who had just been admitted a moment or so ago...
What? Oh no...they're all still there...will they follow him around forever?? Blurr bolts up off the berth and pushes past them all, rushing out into the lobby. He looks relieved upon seeing Rung. "OHRunghtereyouareIcouldn'tfindyoucanwegobacktomyroomnowplease?!"
Rung laughs, not at all looking impatient or unruffled. "Blurr.. remember what I told you. Slowly. Right?" He smiles at the speedster. "My dear Blurr, of course we can go back, we've entered the next work cycle already, I think it's about high time we headed back. Axle must be worried sick." He heads for the nearest exit, making sure they are egressing somewhere obscure so Blurr doesn't get bombarded. "Oh, dear, we didn't get to visit the museum. Well, when we get back, I'll find the data archives on all the great racers of the past and we can read through them together. How does that sound?"