1048/Appointments

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl arrives at Rung's office and walks in, with the sort of exaggerated reluctance that he's used every other time he's had to come here because the therapist he usually sees has requested a transfer, defected to the Decepticons or otherwise decided to do somethign easier than treating Whirl. Easier like, testing dud explosives with a hammer. "Ok, I showed up, you can mark me off the list for thenext cycle, ok bye!" he says.

**Rung has posed:**
Rung jumps slightly at Whirl's sudden entrance. He's had all sorts of patients, some more outgoing and exuberant than others, but he's mostly used to patients who are quiet, nervous, or sullen (or some combination of the three) when they come in.

 "Hello," he says, offering his usual smile as he does a very brief scan of new patient records. "You would be... Whirl, correct?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl is outgoing and exuberant, even when he's nervous or sullen. Actually, especially when he's nervous and/or sullen. "Yup! That's me, Whirl, famed in song, story and certain graffiti that are not not inaccurate about me. And you are..." He pauses, looking down at a datapad he holds in one claw. "...I want to say 'Ring'..."

**Rung has posed:**
"I haven't heard any songs or stories about you yet. Nor have I seen any graffiti," Rung answers, setting his datapad down. "You're close. I'm Rung. It's a pleasure to meet you."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl nods, head bobbing as he lays the datapad on Rung's desk and nudges it closer to him. His claws begin clicking together rapidly as he bobs his head. "Yeah, well, you probably don't go to the kinds of places where those kinds of stories and songs are told and/or sung. Not to mention teh graffiti is rather exclusive to a cellblock to remain nameless. Want to keep the mystery alive, y'know?"

Whirl struts about the office, looking everywhere as if he's searchign for something. Or simply incredibly nosy, despite having no nose. "Sung, got it," he says. "So, uh, I'm here becasue I kinda have to be on account of, well, reasons." He gestures toward the datapad. "It's all in there. Or, well, enough of it is."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung nudges the datapad towards Whirl. All of the sensitive and/or confidential information on it is secured with a password, and he doesn't mind letting his patients fiddle with the things in his office that much if it helps calm them down. "Fair enough," he chuckles, watching the clawed Autobot pace about. "May I ask what those 'reasons' are?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl whirls his rotors in a sigh as he continues to pace. "I have violent tendencies and am a threat to myself and others," he says. 'I'm overly aggressive, I have issues with my memory, I will cut a glitch because it's a vorn ending in -orn."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung briefly wishes he'd had the time to move some of his furnishings to the edges of the room so that Whirl would have more clear space to pace around in, but unfortunately it's a little too late to attend to that. He trusts that Whirl won't stumble into anything.

 "Do you believe that you're a threat to yourself and others?" he asks mildly. "That sounds like a phrase that someone would describe another person with, rather than themselves."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl's movements do seem erratic, but he does seem to move with an odd grace. Almost as if he wants to seem like an accident ready to happen but doesn't actually want to \*be\* one. "..wellll, I'm a threat to the Decepticons," he says. "But, the way I see it, I'm kinda supposed to be. I mean, if I wasn't a threat to them, what'd even be the point, right? And...I dunno, I don't think I'm a threat to myself anymore than anyone else is, I mean, we're all a little self-destructive, right?" His claws click-click-click, optic dimming and brightening.

**Rung has posed:**
Rung winces inwardly at the thought of someone believing that they were supposed to be a threat - even to their so-called enemies, but he understands. They're in a war, after all.

 "Perhaps," he answers, "but being self-destructive isn't healthy. Do you /think/ you're self-destructive?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl stops bobbing and clicking as he considers Rung's question -- or at least, he stops for a moment or two. As he stands tehre, still thinking, the flickering of the optic, the bobbing of the head and the clicking of the claws start up again. "...nooooo," he says, finally. "But that's because I haven't managed to self-destruct yet. I mean, you can't be self-destructive if you're still walking around, right? That'd be like saying a flask of engex was poured when it's just sitting there...."

**Rung has posed:**
"Actually, you can." Rung holds up a finger. "A pattern of behavior, observed over a long period of time, can indicate self-destructiveness. You don't have to be actively trying to self-destruct every moment of the day to qualify."

 He goes silent, and waits to see if Whirl changes his stance.

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl's antennae flip back, flattening for a moment before they spring back up. "...but does it count if somebody doesn't observe you doing it?" he asks, stepping from foot to food. "I mean...if nobody sees you doing it, can it really have been observed? Isn't that like a physics thing or what?"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung nods. A small corner of his mind ponders what's going on with Whirl's antennae, but he pushes it aside for now. "I believe that does count. You still performed the action. At the very least, you are aware that you did it, even if you deny it. In fact, some might say that how you act and behave when you think no one is watching is the most accurate representation of your values and ideals."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl's antennae stand up straight, his optic going bright. "...I...I mean...I guess that can kinda make sense," he says, foot scratching at the floor. His claws click-clack together. "I dunno if I want to believe that, 'cause...y'know, that's a hard thing to take in..."

**Rung has posed:**
"Why would you not want to believe it?" Rung prods gently. It dawns on him that he may have struck a nerve with Whirl, considering the other Bot's fidgeting. "What makes it hard to take in?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl shrugs, his claws clicking together as he steps from foot to foot. "The idea that I'm not actually freaking awesome, that's what," he says. "Because, I mean, let's face it, Flung, I'm awesome."

**Rung has posed:**
"What's stopping you from being awesome if you change your belief?" Rung asks. He doesn't correct Whirl's little error with his name - he's used to it at this point. It's even a little amusing, how a short and simple name like his seems to slip so many minds. "You can acknowledge that you are responsible for your actions while still being awesome, you know," he adds with a little smile.

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl stops moving, his optic flickering for a moment. "...yeahhh, I mean, I can't stop being awesome," he says. "That'd be like the moon stopping being a moon. Or, y'know, blue packing it in. But...what if someone did stuff that wasn't so awesome? Would they still be awesome?"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung takes a moment to think over Whirl's question.

 "Good people can do bad things," he says eventually. "Bad people can also do good things. Ultimately, however? 'Good', 'bad', and 'awesome' - any of those adjectives we might use to describe someone - are subjectives. They are opinions. I'm sure the majority of Autobots would consider Megatron to be evil, or tyrannical, or cruel. On the other hand, Decepticons would describe him as..." The psychiatrist pauses as he searches for some apt words. "Inspiring, perhaps. Courageous."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl grunts. "He \*is\* evil," he says, starting to pace around the room again. His feet hit the ground harder this time around. "And a tyrant and cruel. But the nices thing I can say about him? He can take a punch, that's for damn sure." He grumbles, head bobbing around. "...guess that's kinda inspiring, if you're a punching bag." He snorts. "With delusions of being an adequate poet."

**Rung has posed:**
"That's my point," Rung says. "The adjectives used to describe a person change depending on who's doing the describing. You might consider yourself awesome, and your friends might consider you awesome too, but there are others out there who disagree. Who is more 'right'?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl's antennae droop, and stay down. His vocalizer makes some staticky sounds, as if he's about to say something, then stops himself, then starts again, then continues the cycle for a bit. "...me," he says, finally. "I mean, I'm awesome, so I'm right and everybody else is wrong. It's not their fault, they're just not...me."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung realizes, with a small amount of surprise, that he sort of expected an answer like that. "Why do you think that?" he asks. "I'd like to hear your reasoning."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl's optic narrows into a slit as he stares at Rung. There's something about this guy that is getting under his armor. It might be the eyebrows. It might also be the fact that, unlike the trainees he's used to dealing with, Rung actually knows what he's doing when it comes to treating patients. But, it's probably the eyebrows. "..I'll bet you would," he says, coolly. "..but, fine, you want my reasoning? Here it is: I'm right because I'm the reason the universe exists. No, no, I know what you're thinking: narcissist much? But, think about it: the day doesn't start until I wake up, energon doesn't have a taste until I pour it into my tank -- though, it doesn't have much of a taste since I don't really have those kinda receptors anymore. Everything interesting that's ever happened has happened when I'm there. I am awesome because I am, no offense, the most important person in the universe."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung meets Whirl's stare evenly, almost patiently. His demeanor remains placid as he listens. Once he's ready to answer, he adjusts the round lenses over his optics and smiles.

 "Ah," he says. "I see what you mean. I understand. When you're in recharge, you have no perception of the world around you - so it's as good as gone. Out of sight, out of mind. If you died, the world would cease because you could no longer experience it or interact with it. 'Each one of us is the main character of his or her story', as the saying goes."

 He raises his eyebrows ever-so-slightly, leaning in. "But," he continues, "If you truly are the center of the universe, why do bad things happen to you? Why would anyone disagree with you, if you're the reason the universe exists? Why can you not simply clap your hands and have reality itself warp to your desire?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl can't argue with this line of reasoning. Mainly because Rung is actually making an effort and actually \*listening to what he's saying\* instead of flipping through their textbooks, hoping to find a similar test case or researching new career fields. He can't attack this situation logically, so he does the next best thing: latches on to something and spinning off of it. "Uh, I can't clap my hands 'cause, well," he holds up his claws and puts them in Rung's face, clacking them. "...I don't \*have\* hands. See? No hands. Just these."

**Rung has posed:**
The smile remains upon Rung's face, and his eyebrows rise just a little bit higher. "Why can't you just will yourself to have hands, then?" he asks. He's partly concerned that he might be being too harsh, or prying too hard, but he's genuinely curious to see how Whirl answers this.

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl stops dead in his tracks. He goes perfectly, absolutely still. No blinking, no clicking, no scratching at the floor with his feet. He stares at Rung. Deep inside, he's kind of impressed that Rung went there. That's...that's pretty hardcore for a guy who doesn't appear to have any sort of weaponry on him. "...empurata can't be reversed," he says, the bluster and posturing gone for the moment. "I mean...okay, it maybe can but it's not easy to do. It's a hell of a lot easier to..." Whirl stops and the fidgeting starts up again, claws clicking, optic flickering, antennae flipping up and down. When he speaks again, it's fast, the words almost running together in a burst: "It's easier to cut things away than it is to put them back. There's a lot more to it than just chop, chop, whack, whack."

**Rung has posed:**
"I'm afraid this is poking holes in your theory that you're the reason the universe exists," Rung says. He tries to keep his tone as kindly as possible. "If you are as 'awesome' as you believe you are, surely you could change that. And if you're the center of the universe but /still/ unable to change your lack of hands, why would you build a universe with such rules upon yourself?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl shrugs. 'Maybe I'm a masochist?" he says. "Maybe...maybe this is my idea of a really good time? Y'know? Maybe I did this to myself because I think I deserve it?" He pauses, shrugging again. "...for being awesome."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung goes for the kill.

 "In that case," he replies, still in that kindly tone, "you may very well be self-destructive. Then again, you don't seem sure that you believe you're having a good time. Why would you want to punish yourself, if you think you're awesome? Why not /reward/ yourself for being awesome?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl starts pacing again. "Because maybe..." He comes close to giving an honest answer. He \*can\* give those, and has before -- though usually people don't seem to listen to the actual answer, being distracted by his behavior. "...maybe this way is more fun? What's life without a few obstacles, right?"

Whirl struts over toward the shelf by the desk, studying the model ships. "...where'd you get these?" he asks, deliberately attempting to change the subject.

**Rung has posed:**
"The answer to that question depends on the person you ask," Rung answers. He manages to maintain perfect focus upon Whirl. "I can't help but wonder if you truly agree with what you're saying, though."

 He lets Whirl change the subject, all too aware that he's probably made the other bot uncomfortable. "The ships? I buy model kits from various hobby stores around Iacon. I assemble and paint them myself. I find it relaxing."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl shrugs. "Depends," he says, still studying the ships. "...they're not bad. Pretty good, if I'm being honest -- which I am. That's a Manifold class survey ship right there, isn't it? The green one?"

**Rung has posed:**
"Thank you." Rung takes a very quick glance at the green ship Whirl is talking about - granted, there's a few green ships on his shelf - and nods. "Yes, that's correct. I've been aboard one in the past."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl slips his claws behind his back, one wrapping around the other's wrist. "You did a good job," he says. "Those fiddly bits, those must've been tough. You've got good hands, Rung. You should be proud of that."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung goes silent, feeling a little bit awkward and sorry for Whirl and his lack of hands. He gets the feeling that Whirl doesn't want him to feel sorry, though.

 "The small pieces and detail work are difficult," he answers. "I enjoy the challenge."

 He lets the topic linger on model ships, choosing not to steer the conversation back towards Whirl's beliefs just yet.

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl doesn't sigh, since he doesn't have lungs, but he does make a venting sound that comes close. "It is relaxing, isn't it?" he says, still facing toward the models. "Just focusing on making sure you get that ridiculously tiny piece in just the right spot, so it ends up looking like it's always been there. And then, when you start it up and it all works? Just ticking away like a tiny, tiny model of the universe itself?" He vents again. "...you can live a lifetime in those moments."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung nods. On a hunch, he makes a suggestion: "Have you considered taking up a similar hobby? I think you could become good at building things if you put your mind to it. Besides, having a constructive hobby is healthy."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl freezes up again and stands in front of the model ships. '...what would you suggest?" he says, carefully. "I mean, my claws don't exactly lend themselves to fine detail work. Plus, sometimes I get these spasms in my arms, they just go wild and wreck everything in front of them." He doesn't move, doesn't stop clutching what passes for his hands behind his back. "The medics say there's nothing wrong with my neural wiring, beyond a few redundancies in the system. Guess it's from old neural lines that didn't get fully reintegrated into my claws." He pauses, staring at the ships. "...I can still feel my hands, y'know?"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung nods slowly. "Anything," he answers. "Anything you're curious about. Anything you feel like you can do. Anything you /want/ to do. You'll never know what you're capable of unless you push your capabilities."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl grunts. "You sound like a recruiting poster," he says, turning away from the shelf and pacing the room again. "Be all that you can be! Dream it! Achieve it! Get it! Be it! What if I want to be a--a surgeon? Huh? Think I could do that with these?" He holds up his hands, clacking them in an exaggerated fashion that's meant to make them look even more freakish than they are. "Would you want these clamping onto you?"

**Rung has posed:**
"Is that bad?" Rung asks. "Would you rather I say - for example, 'you have no hands, you'll never amount to anything' or 'don't bother trying, you'll never be able to do it'? All I suggest is that you /try/. You don't have to succeed. Make the attempt. If you find yourself wanting to try something, then try it."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl hrumphs. "You know many surgeons with claws?" he says, fixating again. "And, y'know, the whole idea of just 'making the attempt' is all well and good until you're holding some poor slagger's fuel pump in your hand and a spasm makes you crush it. Then, it's all recriminations and screaming."

**Rung has posed:**
"I don't, no," Rung answers, unperturbed by Whirl's surliness. "I don't expect you to become a surgeon, though. It's a very demanding, stressful career."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl grunts. "It's not watchmaking, but yeah, I guess it's close," he says. "I don't have the patience for model ships. Painting's out too, because for one, I can't hold a brush very well and for two, apparently my choice of subject matter isn't 'real art'." He snorts. "You scrawl one instructional suggestion for where we should put Megatron's head and everyone's a critic."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung chuckles softly. "I belive that could be considered... 'street art'?" He hazards a guess. 'Graffiti' sounds so crude. "It would have some cultural significance, concerning the current political tensions."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl snorts. "...yeah, well, you gotta point," he says, strutting around. "...'street art'...I like that. Maybe I'll try that. Spraypaint counts, right? I mean, as an artistic medium?"

**Rung has posed:**
"Some of the more law-abiding types don't think so," Rung answers, "I believe it does count. Art is about expression and creativity. Just - ah, don't hurt anyone in the process. If someone - or someone's property - is damaged, you may be held liable."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl gives Rung a \*look\*. "Do I look like the kind of person who'd go out of his way to hurt somebody while pursuing a new hobby?" he asks. "...no, wait, don't answer that. Unless...would you be covered by client-therapist privilege? I mean, are you immune from prosecution?"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung doesn't like where this is going.

 "That's neither here nor there," he says. "No, I don't think you'd go out of your way to hurt someone while pursuing a new hobby. I don't believe anyone is immune from prosecution - not even the Prime. I don't claim to be an expert on legal matters, though."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl snorts. "Yeahhhhhh, you don't know me very well, do you?" he says, clack-clack-clacking his claws. "Energon's pink, Seekers fly, the Sun shines and brother, I \*hurt\* people. Physically, emotionally -- I think once I even managed to do it spiritually. Not sure, exactly, but I think I did destroy their faith in Primus."

**Rung has posed:**
"I'm afraid I don't, but I hope to remedy that." Rung leans back in his chair. "You can hurt people and you do hurt people. However -" he holds up a finger, "that does not mean that you are only capable of hurting others. You are certainly capable of more than that."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl blinks. "Am not." he says, the words startled out of him. He seems to realize what he's said and begins to try and spin things. 'I mean, maybe I could but I'm really good at hurting people. I mean, we're in the middle of a war, so, y'know, I'm filling a necessary ecological/sociological niche here."

**Rung has posed:**
Rung smiles. "Nothing's stopping you from trying. We are in a war, yes, but that doesn't mean your life has to consist solely of war."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl considers. "...okay, so maybe I'll get some spray paint and find a convenient canvas for my work," he says, slowly perking up as he talks. 'Yeah! I can go out and committ art! DO my best to bring a bit of brightness to this otherwise blasted hellscape of a war! Make people forget their troubles! Create beauty! Write swears in reaaaaly obnoxious colors! YES!"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung blinks a few times. That... wasn't quite the reaction he'd expected, but he recovers quickly.

 "Exactly!" he says encouragingly. "Go out and create some art. Find a hobby. Do something you enjoy."

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl nodnodnodnods. 'Ohhh yes! I will!" he says. "I'ma do that! Thanks Wing, I appreciate the help! You've given me some useful coping strategies that I am definitely going to pursue until they make me stop!"

**Rung has posed:**
"Y-you're welcome," Rung says with a feeling of dawning horror. Maybe, just maybe, encouraging Whirl to do art wasn't the best of ideas... "Ah - I'll see you another time, then?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl nodnods, heading for the door. 'Yep! I'ma go be crazy and horrible someplace else now," he says, then stops dead and turns around. "Oh! Wait, we need to schedule my next appointment. Because, see, I was seeing PoMo but she's defending her dissertation and then she said she's going to go someplace and raise turbofoxes and the other psychiatric interns are all inexplicably busy for the foreseeable future so, you're stuck with me, Tungsten!"

**Rung has posed:**
Rung nods. Yep, he's definitely made a mistake... hopefully it'll only be a small mistake. Hopefully Whirl won't deface anything important. Hopefully Whirl won't wind up in jail. "That's alright. I'll send you a file with available times and dates, and you pick one that you prefer. Sound good?"

**Whirl has posed:**
Whirl dances from foot to foot. "Sounds great!" he says. 'Ohhh, I have an idea! I have an idea for my first project! I gotta go, talk to you later! Bye!" Yeahhhh, this is not a small mistake. This is a big mistake. Something important is likely to be defaced. Whirl will probably end up in jail. And there's gonna be soooooooo many swears...