re_alignment | video || perceptor's lab

Entry tags:

✘ tf: fall of cybertron | perceptor

video || perceptor's lab

[The camera bounces, like someone knocked into it by accident -- and given who this is, that's entirely possible. It's Perceptor, peering through a scope, into a beaker of pink fluid.]

[He looks ragged. Haggard. Someone hasn't slept in days. Maybe longer.]

[He keeps right on adjusting things, staring into the beaker for a long, long while. Finally, he pushes it away, still staring at it.]

... it's done.

[He blinks several times, and drags his hands over his face.]

I've finished. A... perfectly viable sample of... [He squints at it.] Synthetic energon. No thanks to constant interruptions...

Now then.

[One hand fumbles around, feeling awkwardly for the Link, while he props himself up on the other.]

Test subjects?

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[Just to make sure the other doesn't get any smart ideas, Smokescreen lets go and squeezes between Perceptor and the table, resting his hands on the other's chest to push him back more.]

Yes, you are. Let's go, dadbot.

[He looks down at the other bot, his expression suggestive of a raised eyebrow -- or two.]

You realize, standing there is less of a deterrent than were you my size.

[But hey, he's backing off anyway.]

Quit insulting my size and keep moving, dad. I'm not taking any chances and letting you get distracted again.

[Yes, that's right Percy, just keep moving away. Next he's even going to try and turn you around to push you towards the door.]

It's an observation, not an insult!

[At least, that's what he thought.]

[He holds his hands in the air, muttering about the audacity of youth or something, but he's really not putting up more of a fight than that.]

[Smokescreen can't help but grin a bit, continuing to nudge Perceptor out of the lab, pulling the door shut behind them.]

Which way to your room, dad?

[And that's when Perceptor just plain stops. This was something he'd overlooked entirely...]

My... room?

[Slowly, he looks backward.]

I live in the lab.

[Because apparently it never occurred to him to mention that.]

[What.]

...Really, dad? Really?

[His doorwings droop as he sighs, shaking his head before starting to nudge the other again.]

You can sleep in mine for now. I'm not letting you go back into the lab.

Yes. Really. Where else would I live...?

[It made perfect sense to him -- no need to waste time running back and forth between rooms when you could sack out in your chair if you needed to.]

If it will convince you I'm capable of functionality, fine. Very well.

In an actual room, dad.

[It does make sense but still!]

Good. Glad you're seeing things my way.

A lab is, technically, an actual room.

[He'll just. Let himself be shoved off. Fatigue gets the best of even the brightest minds.]

Okay, but it's not someplace you should be sleeping, dad. Because you get distracted by science-y things like crazy so you're constantly surrounded by distractions in there.

[SMokescreen guides the other through the hallways, heading for his room so the other can rest. When they get there he tugs the door open and doesn't hesitate to push the other inside, promptly shutting the door once he's in.]

Now, go recharge.

I don't get distracted, I find things requiring my attention. There's a significant difference between the two.

[He keeps up a stream of muttering along those lines, even when Smokescreen somehow gets him shoved into the room.]

[And then it's a strangled noise of protest.]

I think you have this "guardian" business backward, you know!

Hey! If you're going to be a proper guardian for me, someone's got to make sure you're okay and that's where I come in, dad.

[He points towards the berth then, the other hand on his hip.]

Now go.

I am all right, I know how to manage myself.

[He just throws up his hands, stomping his way over to the berth.]

Very well, I said.

[As the other stomps over to the berth, Smokescreen hides a grin and a laugh, doorwings quivering as he does so, hands resting on his hips.]

Rest well, dad.

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video || perceptor's lab

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