re_alignment | [Video][Broadcasting from the Junk Pile at end of Event]

[McCrane, currently, sounds much more flustered than he has in past broadcasts. Granted, 'much more flustered' for him doesn't amount to more than a slight urgency in his voice, but considering both Gunmax and Drift have just collapsed he feels a need to be urgent.]

This is McCrane.

We have two men in need of repairs, and we are unable to ferry them to one of the temples.

[This is guilt. Gunmax, he knows, is down because of fuel, and both he and Deckerd are too low themselves to tow him anywhere. To illustrate the severity of the situation, he points his badge toward where the motorcycle detective is lying, optics flickering even as he insists to a very-worried Deckerd that he's perfectly okay. Beyond, Drift is lying in a puddle of his own rust, not obviously injured but not moving, optics offline.]

Ratchet? Knockout? Is there anyone available with mechanical expertise?

((OOC: This is a communal post. Replies may be from McCrane, Deckerd, Gunmax, or, if he snaps out of it, Drift. Also please feel free to actionspam arrivals!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, uh-- if Breakdown trusts you, Knockout...

[Then that's good enough for him.]

McCrane. Be careful. Don't, you know. ... Don't push yourself. [As if Gunmax is one to talk, but it's just their innate nature, he supposes. To push that limit.

He glances up at Breakdown.] Eh? ... Sure, I can hang on.

[Yeah, no. Probably not.]

I will manage.

[He will. He'll manage, because he has to. Of course, it really would help if he had a secondary line into his fuel tanks like Gunmax did, to be able to drink it as the motorcycle detective had during the fireworks--]

...

[...]

[It...should have occurred to him to check his schematics before this. Now he just feels awkward.] I may be able to ingest the diesel immediately as you finish draining my tanks.

[His lips purse, and he crouches by Gunmax.] Which you should have said something about earlier. [And saved him this embarrassment of drinking for the first time with an audience. Still, your concern is touching.] I won't push myself anymore than you have, already. We can't wait. [He looks to Breakdown, countering what Gunmax is saying because, well, look at Gunmax. His optics are flickering and everything.]

[The need for tubes does throw him, however, and he starts looking around.]

It would probably be safer back at the temple, but that's a long drive and I'd rather not wait on this. [He nods at McCrane-- he's with you on this one.] We'd make quite the moving target dragging two invalids with us, after all.

[He'd sort of hoped someone would be able to produce some tubing, but no such luck. Of course. He pats Breakdown's arm, smiling thinly up at him.] Stick with the earth-bots, will you? I have an idea.

[He leaves the three of them there, transforming into his alt and heading out into the junkpile-- or, to be specific, the spray of corpses left behind by the Max Cannon. Once he's reached the carnage, he transforms and starts poking around.]

[Talk amongst yourselves, darlings, he'll be back soon.]

[Stay here, fine. Stay here while Knock Out goes out into the increasingly more dangerous junkpile? Less fine. But the doctor wasn't a helpless damsel, and he knew how to scream, or send a private comm, if he needed help. So after Breakdown rushed forward a few steps after Knock Out when the doctor just took off, he lowered the arm he'd put out to catch things, and trudged back to the Brave Police. He wanted to sit at Gunmax's side, but to stay upright and alert was important now.]

Ever seen him this bad before?

Heh. My bad, McCrane. Look on the bright side... it'll taste better that way.

[He cracks a tired smile, leaning his head back.]

Damn. I've never felt so tired.

[He won't shut off. Despite the temptation.]

Taste? It's supposed to taste?

[It explained why it smelled so good, at least.]

I've only seen him this bad, once. [He remembers you stumbling, leaking, into the first Chieftain fight.] And that was...different. Our work is dangerous, but we've never starved. Not like this.

[Breakdown sees Gunmax leaning his head back, and his struts stiffen. That looks a lot like a mech abut to go offline. He's lived around Knock Out long enough to recognise some things here and there.]

Hey, buddy, stay online with me. [Breakdown claps his hands together over Gunmax's head, trying to make sure he stays at attention, even if Gunmax might get angry at him for it. He didn't want to be disliked by these guys, but he didn't want them to be in worse shape either.]

Sure. Tastes stronger than gasoline. It makes my Super A.I. chip... it makes it feel interesting.

Thennn my tanks get upset and Chief usually yells at me, heh.

[The hands on hsi helm catches his attention; he can't jerk, can't move out of it, but he's more or less forced to stare up at Breakdown this way.]

S'fine, it's just-- just tired. I'm awake. Stop worrying.

[[ooc I didn't mean for Breakdown to touch him. BD's a bit toucy-feely, but maybe not that much. I meant he literally clapped his hands to create sound. Like "OI OI *CLAP CLAP*" ]]

I'll stop worrying when you have the strength to yell at me about it.
[But then, Breakdown really was worrying, wasn't he? Probably because...]
You just remind me of someone who was like my, hmm, little brother. He'd pull the same scrap of driving himself -heh, actually driving- too hard, and then, next thing you know, he's got inna kind of crash you don't get out of without a lot of help.

[Breakdown shrugged his shoulders. Yeah, Gunmax wasn't exactly like Wildrider, but it was the same sort of feeling. Creatures that can't be tamed, and didn't want to admit weakness, and always reached beyond their power. And now, Breakdown could admit, he'd figured out one reason why he liked these guys. Sort of reminded him of family.]
A lot like you.

Gunmax, is there any action you don't turn into a rebellion?

[Really, it's impressive sometimes! Especially when Breakdown is talking about his friend, and it sounds almost exactly the same as Gunmax. The motorcycle detective could handle a lot without getting in trouble...but when he did, he was always in deep.]

Your brother was lucky to have someone who could pull him out again.

I play nice for Gunbike and Boss.

[He listens to Breakdown, his optics -- though they flicker -- dim slightly at the severity of the big guy's words. Of all things, he wasn't expecting that. Gunmax is rough around the edges, but he's far from heartless.

McCrane told him to not make Deckerd worry more. And sure, Breakdown's tough, but it's sort of occurred to him that he's affecting more than the two friends he entered this place with. Outside of Deckerd and McCrane.]

...Don't worry, Breakdown. I won't tell anyone what a big softie you are.

[He wears a tired but cheeky grin.]

[Breakdown got a disgruntled look. A softie? Nonono. But then, that was just teasing. And that kind of teasing came from softness itself. They were probably just a group of softies at this point. Tended to happen when someone was close to dying.]

[To McCrane] He had me to pull him out until I couldn't any more. That's how it goes when you live on the edge. 'Ventually you tip over, where no one can get at 'ya. [Yeah, that was just what Gunmax needed to hear, sure, like he needed a reprimand when he was weak and probably regretting things anyway. Or just trying to play the tough guy so he wouldn't offline looking like he gave up. Never give up.]

[Breakdown squatted down next to Gunmax, still ready to spring to action.] So, who's Boss?

[Video][Broadcasting from the Junk Pile at end of Event]

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