About: Holding Yourself Hostage   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Trypticon Medical Bay Several operating tables are set in a row here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary. Text Only:

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • Holding Yourself Hostage
rdfs:comment
  • Trypticon Medical Bay Several operating tables are set in a row here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary. Text Only:
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  • Non-TP
dbkwik:transformer...iPageUsesTemplate
Title
  • Holding Yourself Hostage
who
Year
  • 2034(xsd:integer)
Location
  • Trypticon Medical Bay
abstract
  • Trypticon Medical Bay Several operating tables are set in a row here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary. It's just another normal day at Trypticon for the Decepticon Empire. Shipments are expedited out the loading dock, freight is recieved and sent to its location, the usual hustle and bustle as Transformers hurry to and fro about their duties. However, the day is -about- to get a whole lot weirder.. Over Trypticon's internal loudspeaker system, a nervous shaking voice can be heard making a special message.. <> The Zombie Seeker took a shuttle to the Earth base to do some Earth things. One of those things was to stop by the medical bay and run a scan on the damage he took on a mission the other night. It repaired fine on its own and with what little he work he did but he just wants to make sure. But of course nothing can ever be that simple for the Dead looking Seeker can it? Right as Windshear opened the door to the Medical Bay the announcement came over the base intercom. His pause is barely noticeable as his step into the room is slightly delayed. The door behind him swings shut and he stands there looking at the scene before him. As soon as Buzzkill hears the announcement, several things go through her head. Who decided to become a hostage taker? Who have they taken hostage? Why do they want her of all people to come an difuse the situation? Hostage situations aren't exactly her forte, they usually end with her shooting both the culprit and the victim, you know, to make things easier. Nevertheless, Buzzkill hurries to the medical bay as quckly as her short little bee legs can carry her. The look on her face when she sees who's responsible for the situation can best be described as a mixture between confusion and anger. "Backfire! What the hell is going on in here!?" she barks, obviously unamused by the seeker's antics. "Do you know anything about this supposed hostage situation I've heard about?" She turns to Windshear who arrived just moments before she did and points at him with an accusing finger. "You! Do you have anything to do with this?" Windshear's wings seem to hitch up as Buzzkill's finger aims at him, "Me?" he blurts out. "I -- I seem to be in the wrong spot at the wrong time, ma'am." he looks at Backfire, "Maybe he took himself hostage?" The Zombie Seeker suggests suddenly. I mean it does seem like something Backfire could do doesnt it? Calibratron is posted at the door, a worried but amused look is on his face. Giving both the Decepticons who entered a nod, he merely points over at Backfire when the questions start rolling out. Positioned in the corner of the room, Backfire stands with his arms crossed.. leaning up against the wall like some cool dudicus maximus. "Oh, I know a little about it.." he muses, pulling out a pistol (it's still the pistol he stole from Powerglide) from his homemade side-holster and brandishing it against his temple. "NAMELY, I'm the hostage and the hostage taker.. well, that's not true." he pauses, a faint emission of gas coming from his head. "Oh drat, the Insecticlones are releasing gasses again." he grumbles, litterally having a brain fart. "Buzzkill, you will finish my medical training immediately.. or I will shoot myself in the head. I mean, I'll shoot my head and in turn ABORT the Insecticlone pods that are located there." Windshear's initial reaction to Backfires comment is a slight wing twitch. "I...rest my case." he says with this stupified look on his face as he stares at his fellow Seeker. An automated message rings through the halls, <> Buzzkill's look of anger quickly shifts to one of horror as Backfire explains the situation. Killing himself, sure, Buzzkill wouldn't really care about that but to threaten the pods she and Scorn worked so hard to implant inside of him? Now that is something else entirely.. "W-what!? No! You can't do that! You can't manipulate me by threatening to destroy one of my greatest scientific achievements! And for what? Medical training? MEDICAL TRAINING?" She looks flabbergasted that Backfire would even be interested in something like that. "Since when did you care about that sort of thing? Think about it Backfire, you're an air soldier not a medic! There is no reason, and I mean absolutely NO reason, for you to have to undergoe medical training. Not to mention no one would ever trust you to go near them with any kind of surgical tools." She walks towards the seeker, slowly and deliberately as to not spook him into doing something incredibly stupid. "Backfire, please.. reconsider. We can work this out. What else do you want? I can give you half of my energon production.. I can send Scorn to your quarters whenever you'd like.." Scorn probably wouldn't appreciate being offered up like that but Buzzkill is in charge here so she'll just have to deal with it. "Just.. just don't harm the pods!" "What do you mean I can't manipulate you?" Backfire questions, a look of worry flashing over his face. It quickly turns into a scowl as his grip tightens on Powerglide's pistol, "Wait, don't try to confuse me with words.. you, wordy-Mcwordy-tron!" "Well, I've already recieved my certificate from shadowing Harrow.. but sadly, no one would finish my training to certify me as an official NURSE for the Decepticon Empire." the Seeker simpleton states with an air of aloofness and certainty. If such a thing does exist, it was probably created just to spite Backfire. "Windshear, get over here and lay on this slab!" he hollers, stepping towards the pair. Vigorously shaking his head negative to the list of demands the Insectcon suggests, "Buzzkill will repair you and teach me, or FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!!" Windshear looks at the repair slab and back at Backfire, "No -- Ive been on the receiving end of your 'assistance' before -- no." he turns and heads to a side table to take care of checking up in his own repair work. Hed rather mangle himself then let Backfire mangle him. "Listen to Buzzkill, Backfire. She offered a good perk with Scorn there. Don't be a fool." he grabs a diagnostic device and begins calibrating it for his own systems. Combat: Buzzkill runs a diagnostic check on Windshear Buzzkill grits her teeth as Backfire continues to defy her. Why did she think she could get anywhere with him through reasoning alone? As much as she hates to admit it, the only way to save the future generation of Insecticlones is to suck it up and go along with his demands. After several moments of careful consideration, the honey bee sighs and crosses her arms. "Very well, Backfire... I will help you with the rest of your training." She turns to Windshear, pointing at him with a finger again (how rude!) "You! Cease what you are doing immediately and remain perfectly still. I am going to need your assistance and full cooperation. Deny me and face dire consequences!" With that said, she pulls her pistol off her hip and takes aim at Windshear before pulling the trigger and shooting him in the shoulder. "Backfire, fetch me my toolbox from the desk over there. We have work to do.." Combat: Buzzkill sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Buzzkill strikes Windshear with her Pistol attack! Combat: Buzzkill runs a diagnostic check on Windshear Windshear was lifting up the diagnotic tool to check its setting and then put it toward his side when suddenly hes SHOT. The med device flies out of his hand and hits the floor. He slowly turns toward Buzzkill, "Did I ask you to do that?" he asks in that swelt smooth manson baratone. Calibratron nervously paces in front of the door, as a herd of Decepticons are all bunched up and trying to look through the viewport in the door as the hostage negociations continue.. obviously not taking heed to the announcement to avoid this level of Trypticon. Smiling when Buzzkill injures Windshear in the shoulder, Backfire backpedals towards the workbench (as to keep both the Decepticons in front of him) and blindly grabs for the toolbox. Latching onto something, he brandishes it in front of him. "I have it.." Turns out it's a detached limb. "Uhh, hold on." A few moments later, he's approaching with Buzzkill's toolbox. When someone makes everyone aware that there is some kind of hostage situation in the repair bay, Triggerhappy naturally goes toward wherever the action is. Maybe he'll get to shoot someone, or something. He walks in to find Buzzkill, Windshear, and...oh, that must be Backfire. Wait, is Backfire trying to commit suicide? If so...he smirks at the seeker. "Oooh...you must be Backfire. Need a hand with that?" Of course, he's talking about the shooting in the head/apparent suicide attempt and not the toolbox. "No," Buzzkill snaps at Windshear, maglocking her pistol back on her hip. "You don't have to ask. I took the liberty of making the decision for you." Such is the privilege of having rank. She snatches her toolbox from Backfire and steps towards Windshear, planting her hand flat against his chest and forcefully pushing him down onto a medical berth. "You will stay perfectly still as long as this takes or I will be forced to restrain you indefinitely." She plops the toolbox onto the berth beside Windshear and pops it open, pulling a handful of surgical tools from within before handing them over to Backfire. "You will be performing the repair while I instuct you on the proper procedure and judge your technique." She gestures to the hole in Windshear's shoulder. "The first thing you will want to do is access the wound. Did the injury cause any broken fuel lines? Is there any damage to the internal wiring of the body part? When ammo powered weapons are involved you need to check if the bullet passed through the body or became lodged inside. In this case it is the former so you need no worry about digging through the patients internals. Right now your focus will be to stop the bleeding by patching the damaged fuel lines." Windshear gets pushed back onto a repair berth suddenly. He opens his mouth to say something back at Buzzkill but then changes his mind and lays there. He watches Backfire and thanks the powers that be that he can handle pain well. He has the distinct impression hes about to get a bucketload of it. "If you strike me down, I shall become more powerfu.. wait, that's not right." Backfire muses to Triggerhappy, finger still cradling the trigger on the pistol that is pushed up against his own temple. "Don't you know anything about hostage situations?? You never threaten the hostage taker." he grumbles, getting a pair of surgical tools placed in his free hand. "Oh, okay.. hold on." Backfire muses, switching hands of the pistol. "This is my dominant hand." he adds, peering closer at Windshear's shoulder wound. "There's not enough room to see.. hold on." the Seeker dope adds, taking the welding torch to the wound to make it bigger. * SCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCH* After the sparks stop flying and the minor wound has been made into a gaping hole, Backfire adds "Much better, more accessible now. Where were we? Oh, right.. damaged fuel lines." Switching the torch out for some clamps, Backfire places one on each side of the break before looking to Buzzkill for further guidance. Triggerhappy chuckles. "I wasn't threatening you, mech. I was offering to help you!" he says in his own defense. Now just wait. What was going on here? "Buzzkill?" A brow arches slightly. "Are you--are you trying to teach Backfire how to be a medic?" And then he bursts out laughing at Backfire's pathetic repair attempts as they actually injure Windshear further instead of fix him. "I don't see any point in this. No one's going to let that glitchead try to repair them, unless they were somehow stupider than he is." The odd texture of Windshear's armor seems to undulate when the welding torch hits the Seekers shoulder. The pseudo veins twist and shift. What the smeg did he go through while he was gone this past year? Windshear doesnt make a sound but his jaw tightens and he partially shutters his dull red optics from the sparks. Talk about being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Then again he was probably the best one for it. Windshear opens his optics back up once the sparks subside and glances from Buzzkill to Backfire, "No fueline damage...yet..." is all he says and then looks at Triggerhappy. "I wish I was that stupid, Triggs..." Buzzkill gives Triggerhappy a nod of acknowledgement when he enters. "Greetings, Triggerhappy. I am just teaching Backfire how to make a simple repair. You are welcome to watch if you'd like." The sound of a welding torch snaps Buzzkill's attention back to Backfire's progress which illicits a frown and a facepalm. That wasn't exactly what she had in mind but she can't judge because she purposefuly opens wounds like all the time. It's kind of her thing. "There is spare tubing in my toolbox. You will cut the appropriate length and use the laser welder to patch it onto the damaged fuel lines. When that is complete you must drain the excess fuel that has leaked out and begin closing the wound. There are some syringes in the box you can use for the draining process." She looks over at Triggerhappy and sighs. "Yes, I agree that it is a stupid idea but.. I have no choice. It was either teach Backfire or have him abort the Insectclone pods in his head." Such a tough choice. So here they are, in the Repair Bay. Backfire has a gun to his head, threatening to kill the Insecticlones inside if Buzzkill does not teach him to be a proper registered Nurse. When the Insecticon listed off the myriad of duties he'll have to perform, Backfire does his best to snatch the required materials and cut them to length. One handed, the Seeker simpleton attempts to trim off the frayed ends of the damaged piping.. to no avail, he's just not coordinated enough. "GAH, nursing is hard." he sneers, handing the gun to Buzzkill. "Hold that while I do this.." he requests, trimming off the ends of the pipe and fitting in the replacement. "Of course.." Buzzkill takes the gun from Backfire and tucks it behind her back for now but not before giving it a quick look over. What kind of shitty gun was this, anyway? Whoever Backfire stole it from must've been a real piece of work. "You're doing great so far," she lies, biting down ever so slightly on her bottom lip in an attempt to remain neutral. "When you are finished with that, take some scrap metal from the bin over there.." She points to a large crate filled with all sorts of replacement parts and sheets of metal. "Cut the appropriate shape and weld it in place over the wound." Everyone get bored, it's HAIRSPLITTER! The middle management Neb saunters in blandly, clutching his 'World's Best Binary Bonded Partner That Turns Into A Laser' mug. He yawns, looks around with his sad blearly eyes, and spots Buzzkill. "Oh hey there. Buzzzkill. Soo....yeah. I'm going to need you to finish those forms for the equipment request you made. Otherwise they won't get, you know...filled out. Soooooooooo....yeeeeah." Singe trots in shortly after with a massively sexy toss of his hair. "Hairsplitter, don't get so far ahead of me if you're going to walk AND build charts. You'll fall into a hole or something." He brightens up at the scene. "Oh, are we disassembling Windshear? Fantastic, although slightly overdue, news." He bows. "Farewell, Windshear. You will be greatly missed by..." He makes a face, mulling that over. "Outbound? I guess?" Carefully, which is not a word usually described in anything Backfire is apart of, spot welding the replacement tube into place.. the Seeker removes the clamps and dabs up any excess fluid from the operation. Quickly making his way to the bin and back, Backfire cuts the scrap piece much larger than he needs it to be.. looking to Buzzkill. "Okay, can I have my gun back? I think I can apply this one handed." he says with all seriousness. Then the Nebulon pair saunter into the bay, illiciting glares from Backfire. "No, you dolts.. I'm learning to repair him by holding myself hostage." he spits, adding "Obviously." Windshear hears his fav neb -- not and doesnt even give the germ the courtesy of a look in his direction. Instead he just lays there enduring the mangling of his shoulder all for... well he has no idea what its for really. Guess its to keep the pods in Backfires head from dying. Triggerhappy just folds his arms and watches, still snickering behind a hand. He's probably told Blowpipe to film this on his phone or whatever those external comm devices the organics used were called. Buzzkill looks down at Hairsplitter, a frown tugging on her lips. "Yes, I know. I will get to it when I have the time. As you can see I am a little busy at the moment." Then to Singe she just sighs in frustration. "No... no we're not dissecting him. Windshear has so graciously volunteered his body for Backfire to train on." She scowls when Backfire requests his gun back and shakes he head. "Negative. You will finish the repair and then I will return your weapon. Now pay attention to the task at hand! You are almost finished. Weld the piece in place and then we can get on with our lives." "It's okay, Backfire. I can hold a gun up for you while you work. Much easier, eh?" Triggerhappy offers, in all sincerity. Singe gives Backfire a solemn nod. "But of course you. My apologies." Windshear's lack of response brings a wicked smile across the flamethrower's face, and he antigravs up to the table, landing a few feet from the seeker's face. He stares at Windshear thoughtfully for a moment. "Honestly Buzzkill, I don't think the exercise is challenging enough. You see, my subordinate does not seem nearly damaged enough for Backfore to learn any valuable lessons today. Wouldn't you agree, Windshear?" Hairsplitter nods in perfect understanding without having really heard what Buzzkill has said. "Yeah...But I'm really going to need those forms completed," Oh Primus why? Windshear finds the fleshcreature in his line of site and just sneers, "Does it matter if I agree with you or not?" he barely gets out civily at the neb. Slapping the armor piece on the wound, Backfire quickly welds it up and stands back. The bright neon yellow scrap piece stands out, not just in color.. but it is approximately twice as large as it needed to be. So it's obviously jutting out awkwardly from Windshear's shoulder. "Ah, look at that!" he exclaims to Buzzkill, looking smug. "Good as new, didn't even leave a piece out." he grins, nudging the Insecticon with his elbow. "Best Nurse ever, right??" "Cybertron wasn't built in a day, Singe. Well, it could have been.. I dunno. I don't think it was. Hrm, okay.. take two." Backfire clears his vocal processor audibly with a "AHEM.", brief pause then continues. "I don't think Cybertron was built in a day, Singe." The yellow on the patch metal starts to fade to black around the edges, the courser texture of the Seekers armor trying to take hold as well. But the shifting apperance seems to stop and start and finally just stall. Windshear glances at his shoulder than at Backfire, "Backfire," he begins in an almost condisending tone. "What makes you think this is a proper repair? Look at it again and tell me whats wrong with it." "It's totally rubsigning?" Backfire asks, rather than answers. Windshear frowns, "What?" "Rubsigning, it's fading to black after cooling down.. DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING??" Backfire barks out. Windshear lifts a hand to his forehead, "Ive got a headache..." And its called Backfire... Buzzkill just... stares at the piece of metal Backfire decided to use. She opens her mouth, prepared to give him a lecture about measuring things before welding them to someone's body but ultimately says nothing. She'd rather she put this whole thing behind her, no point in dragging it on any longer than it needs to be. "Good... good job, Backfire." It really wasn't but whatever. "It.. could have been done better but I think you get the gist of what it takes to make a simple repair now." She hands Backfire his (or rather Powerglide's) pistol. "I am glad you were able to learn something from this. I hope you don't feel the need to threaten my Insecticlones next time you want something." She leans in, glaring at the seeker with a look that could kill. "Because next time you decide that would be a good idea I will simply subdue you, remove your head and store it until the pods are complete, then divide what's left of your body amongst myself and the other Insecticons to do with as we please. Understood?" Windshear cant help but snicker at that. Taking the pistol and holstering it, Backfire nods along like he's listening to Buzzkill. He's only actively listening, to be honest.. he's still marveling over the scrap of metal rubsigning, making a mental note to trademark the term later with Decepticon division of copyright holders. "Yes, yes.. I understand. Now, if you'll make an official announcement on the completion of my registered Nurse training.. I will gladly protect these Insecticlones with all the wits I can muster!" the Seeker smiles, handing over an official looking document. Backfire taps his foot impatiently. Hey look! It's Outbound! Or don't... He'd probably actually prefer it if you just ignored him, as he makes his way into the medical hall tapping upon a console that appears to be a part of his forearm. "Interesting...hm, that looks painful. Lovely," the mech comments to himself, as Buzzkill's medical file data speeds across the small screen. While Buzzkill, Backfire, Windshear and Triggerhappy were all typical sights in the bay it does happen upon the infantrymech that the area is rather crowded. Passing behind BFF he pauses a moment, a browridge arching as he inquires to Buzzkill without looking up from his forearm. "Cannon fodder back from a mission?" Singe smirks at Windshear. "No it doesn't. But if you agreed, this might sting less." He snaps his finger, and a puff of fire erupts like flashpaper on Windshear's nose. Windshear looks bored at the midgest germs bravado. The fireflash at his noise doesnt bother him either, "You'll have to do better than that." he remarks snidely. Windshear doesnt say a word but gets up and goes over to one of the repari drones so it can be repaired properly.=========================== Decepticon =========================== Message: 2/147 Posted Author Backfire's Medical Training Thu Mar 07 Buzzkill Text Only: Backfire has successfully completed his medical training. Although far from being considered an actual surgeon, he can now assist our medics in the repair bay as a nurse of sorts. Despite this, I do not recommend letting him anywhere near medical tools without proper supervision. -Buzzkill ==============================================================================
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