[Jan 12] [G1 Transformers; TFBlogs RPG] Add "Lysol" To The Supplies List

[amethystlight.livejournal.com]

Title: Add "Lysol" To The Supplies List
Day/Theme: Jan 12 / Stroke his fur, it feels really nice
Series: G1 Transformers, TFBlogs RPG
Characters: Catilla, Chainclaw, Moledive (formerly known as BW Depth Charge)
Rating: G
Notes: Characters as portrayed by straya

Medic!

The mech formerly known as Nerverack stared at his ursine Pretender shell for the twentieth time in the last ten minutes or so as it snoozed away on the floor of medbay, backs legs splayed to either side and front legs the same only forward. He felt his connection to its AI. He wished he could have that level of peace.

"It isn't going to jump up and do tricks -- unless you tell it to," his partner, Flatfoot -- now known as Catilla -- reminded him.

"But I didn't tell it to go into recharge."

"It has the sense to sleep." Catilla's shell was up in a shelf nosing through some dusty old canisters. It sneezed.

Chainclaw looked up and pointed. "So you told yours to do that?"

"Nope. I just want to see what it will do on autopilot."

"I'm glad mine's staying down here. What if there's something catching stored in those containers?"

"... ..." Catilla let out a quiet sigh.

Chainclaw went over to his shell and peered down at it, then reached to catch a few of the hairs on its shoulder between two fingers, analyzing the texture his sensors registered. "What did he call this stuff again? It's like..techno-organic fibers?"

"Fur."

"It collects dust." He drew back, hastily wiping his hand on his thigh. Then he brushed at that spot on his thigh. "What if I was in it if it fell into water when it was cold out? Soaked and freezing, I could get pneumonia or hypothermia!"

"You looked up that but not 'fur'?"

"What's more important than researching what illnesses I could catch on this planet?!"

"You could have at least looked up info on your new alt mode." Catilla held out a datapad displaying photos of a tiger.

Chainclaw grimaced. "You're right! I didn't even think of bear-specific diseases!"

Catilla slapped his palm to the front of his helm.

A clomping sound came from the hallway. Catilla's shell turned its ears toward it and the mech who controlled it tried to ignore his own instinct and focus through the shell's perception instead, shuttering his optics in concentration. Chainclaw watched, uncertain. "Are you all right??"

The clomping sound stopped as another mech paused in the doorway. Catilla lifted his head while his shell sniffed then growled, gathering to pounce. Catilla opened his optics and jerked forward with his arms up in a 'halt' gesture before the feline shell could leap.

"Nice reflexes," the newcomer said in a gravelly voice. "What are you two clowns up to?"

"The usual," Catilla replied with a glance at Chainclaw.

The other Pretender was staring in abject horror. "S-SEE! Look how much dirt you can pick up with these fur coats!"

The example in question stood there calmly while a large chunk of mud sloughed off him and splattered on the floor. Moledive effected a smirk then stepped closer...and shook himself off. Mud flew, spattering the floor, cabinets, and the two other mechs plus one shell. Catilla's was just far enough above the assault, hissing in displeasure.

"I hope you're going to clean this up, Moledive..." Catilla wiped at his arms, frowning.

Chainclaw let out a whimper. "Where did you get this from? Were you swimming, too?"

"Why do you think it's now mud?" Moledive folded his arms smugly.

"Do you know how many microbes are in the water?!"

"Can it and live with it, you sissy."