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[...the thought didn't occur to him till you said that.]

....this could be permanent?!

[That was not exactly what Perceptor had intended, there. He curses himself internally as he arrives at Drift's quarters and ponders the door.]

Not if I have anything to say about the matter, Drift.

[Drift had said that he was very small, and under his berth. Perceptor frowns, regretting the rudeness of simply entering without requesting permission first, however, if Drift is sufficiently small enough, he would not be physically capable of keying the door for Perceptor, anyway. Mind made up, Perceptor opens the door and enters.]

Drift? [He makes certain that the door is closed again before he kneels to peer under the berth.]

[And nearly faints with surprise at what he sees.]

Drift!

[Drift recognizes the footplates as they approach, except they seem HUGE this time. He's huddled under the berth, arms wrapped around his upraised knees. ]

[He manages a weak smile.]

Kind of liked it better when it was me rescuing you.

[The voice. It's so... tiny. So is Drift. Tiny, and... female.]

As did I.

[He very slowly extends one hand in a welcoming, comforting gesture, offering to help Drift from her hiding place.]

When did this occur, Drift?

[Drift hesitates, because that hand is huge. Seriously. And this isn't the Perceptor he knows. But hiding under his bed, slowly getting covered in pink petals, isn't helping anything.]

This morning. Or before. While I was in recharge. I woke up and...[He made a gesture with his hands trying to mime 'falling off the bed'.]

[Perceptor can be patient; He'll wait quietly for Drift to decide if she wants his assista-]

Are those flower petals?

[Perceptor's optics flare as he glances up to the edge of the berth, then back down at Drift, running brief calculations of mass and acceleration and force and frail human flesh through his processor.]

I am well acquainted with human medical procedure, Drift. Are you in pain?

Yes. Cherry blossoms. I remember them from Japan.

[He scoots forward, sliding in the mass of taffeta and crinoline.]

I ... hurt my ankle gyro. [Or whatever they call it.]

[Perceptor watches as the blossoms simply materialize out of thin air and drift down in artistic swirls around Drift. His sensors are stretched to their limits, however, there is simply no reason for the petals to exist, to come into existence. No energy spikes, no temporal flares, nothing. They just simply should not be.]

[And yet, there they are.]

Prunus serrulata. The Japanese Cherry. Yes.

[There's a rather significant collection of petals around where Drift had been huddled.]

They do not appear to serve any purpose... [That's mused absently, before Perceptor shakes his head. [Then again, neither does your transformation. You had no warning of any impending, ahh... alterations?

[If she will allow him, Perceptor will cup both hands around Drift and carefully cradle her as he draws her out from under the berth. Unused to wearing a sword, though, Perceptor knocks the hilt of the Greatsword clasped to his back against the top of the berth with a soft clang.]

You've been to Japan? [It's a momentary distraction, but sometimes you need the momentary.]

No. Just...woke up.

[He droops at the sight of the Great Sword, now far bigger than he is. He's...useless.]

Yes. [Perceptor nods as he carefully curls his fingers around Drift.] I have spent nearly three decades upon Earth, and visited most of the major cultures there. I recall Japan as being quite fascinating, and very, very beautiful.

[With Drift cupped in his hands like a precious treasure, Perceptor shifts up to his knees and scoots forward to set her down upon the berth.]

If I may, I will examine your ankle for damage, Drift? [He doesn't remove his hands from their protective curl around her, though. Not yet, at least.]

(ooc: let me know if you want me to edit anything, specifically Percy picking her up.)

It was beautiful. I found a bento box here, once and it was...it reminded me a lot. [There's a hint of longing in his voice. He was almost happy there. And in his right body. He could almost feel his weight shift, cornering hard along the coastal roads.]

[But no, he's still here in a puffy sleeved dress, the petticoats spreading over the large mech's hand.]

[He nods, lifting one spindly ankle, in a delicate, pointed-toe, heeled boot. Heels: his downfall. He misses his footplates and their complicated sensors more than he wants to express.]

((ooc: it's fine! sorry im staying off IM lately bc I suck at humanity))

(ooc: okies. *hugs* just let me know if you need me to edit anything here that I do along the way. much luff for you!)

It was. The geography was awe-inspiring. I particularly enjoyed the mountains, and the quiet forests and small communities there. The people of Japan had such an incredible variation of lifestyles, and yet, it seemed that no matter where one went, they approached life as... an artform, almost. No matter how humble the task, it would be approached with an attitude of perfection. I admire that level of dedication.

[He smiles as he very carefully unlaces that boot - how fortunate that he is accustomed to dealing with such small objects, even with his relatively large fingers.]

The way you perform your swordwork reminds me quite strongly of that philosophy.

["Perform," not "performed,", because Perceptor will not accept that this cannot be reversed. He will see Drift returned to his robotic form, no matter what.]

[It takes some very delicate maneuvering, but the boot finally slides free, allowing Perceptor unrestricted access to examine her ankle. He hisses softly with sympathy as he notes swelling and the faint discoloration apparent even through the sheer stockings.]

No crepitus*, which is good. It appears to be a bad sprain, rather than a fracture.

[Reluctantly, he settles Drift upon the berth so that he can have both hands free when he removes from subspace a pair of the cloths he keeps for the care of his lenses. One, he offers to her; it's large enough to be a blanket, to at least shield her from the continuing gentle rain of sakura petals. The other, he tears several long, thin, precise little strips from, which he uses to begin binding her ankle and foot, to stabilize the sprain.]

It would be best to remain off your feet, and certainly out of these shoes until your ankle heals. Unfortunately, I cannot perform repairs upon these human tissues as I am able to upon Cybertronian frames. However, this body will heal itself, given time and rest, and I am quite willing to remain and assist you in any way that you require while you are healing, until such time as you are returned to your normal Cybertronian form, Drift.

[In other words, he's a walking taxi, but he's a willing taxi?]

*crepitus - the sound/sensation of bone ends grinding against one another.

Edited 2012-09-15 02:15 (UTC)

[The compliment would go over better if Drift could still actually do any of that.]

They had a serenity about them I certainly envied.

[Drift hides the wince as Perceptor wiggles the boot off. It's not the mech's fault that his ankle had swollen. And any pain faded quickly, with the blessed relief of having the boot off. ]

[He watches the binding curious. This is just so much more complicated than robotic repairs.] That's all you can do? Wait for autorepair?

[Perceptor wilts a little, well aware of his inability to actually do anything meaningfully helpful. He nods slowly.]

Unfortunately, yes. On a positive note, it is a relatively minor, if painful, injury, that should heal quickly?

[He regards the cloth that he'd cut the strips from, and then turns a thoughtful look on her other foot and the very precariously heeled boot.]

I would advise against attempting to walk much until the tissue swelling diminishes, however, if you would like, I could remove the other item of footwear and wrap that foot similarly, so that you would, at least, not need to attempt to navigate those elevated heels? Carly - a human female whom I was once acquainted with - was always quite vocal in her protest at such, ah... she humorously referred to them as "torture devices". Given the manner in which such a design would force the human body into rather unbalanced positions, however, I cannot say that I would disagree with such a nomenclature for the design.

Quite frankly, the human form is not meant to move in the only manner which those shoes allow the wearer to attempt to move.

[By now, he's shifted his hands back to cup around her, as much a shield as support for her to rest against, if she wishes it.]

How quickly? A cycle? Two?

[It's already been more than that.]

All right. [Great. Human, tiny, useless and now he's being told not to walk.] You realize humans don't have an alt mode.

[Perceptor sighs sadly and shakes his head.]

A day or so for the swelling to dissipate, a few days, perhaps, for the pain to hopefully completely vanish. Perhaps even sooner!

[He's trying to be hopeful! Perhaps it's merely Drift's very pale skintone and tiny stature that creates the illusion of a more severe injury?]

I am, perhaps, being overly conservative. [He shrugs as he admits that softly, looking down toward her still-booted foot, rather than meeting her eyes.] Humans are so much more... fragile... than Cybertronians.

[He offers a wan smile at Drift's observation, and nods.]

I understand that, Drift. As I stated, it would be my privilege and pleasure to assist you in traveling wherever you wish to go. I, ah, have no stylish, or even really much of a mobile, alt mode myself, however, I can walk, and I am fully capable of carrying you in my hands? At least until we have mitigated this transformation.

A few days?! [The high squeaky girlish voice might not express it well, but that prognosis is all kinds of unsat.]

I got hurt falling off a berth. [You do not have to inform him humans are fragile: he's sort of figured that out.]

People.

Will see me

like this. [Horror.]

It could, conceivably be less!

[Perceptor should probably not tell Drift that, because if it takes longer, she will most likely blame herself for healing slowly, otherwise, potentially risk the healing process by attempting to force it along. But that face... and the voice... and the disappointment.]

I could... conceal you until you have been returned to normal?

[Drift? Hiding? Not bloody likely.]

Drift, it should not matter if anyone sees you; if anyone intends you harm, then I and your friends here will defend you. As for your friends, it should be quite clear that is is not something which you did to yourself, but rather, something that was done to you. How could anyone fault you for such a thing?

[Easy for Perceptor to say; he's not the fleshie in a dress and high heels.]

[Chances are it will heal miserably slowly because honestly? Does Drift look like he's going to sit still and take this well? Ask Ratchet about his track record as a patient.]

No. If there's nothing you can do to fix this, you'd probably be better off going and trying to figure out what's going on. I'll be fine.

[Small, miserable, and showered in pink, but fine.]

[The second boot is finally off, and wrapped, both to maintain the height balance, and to protect the tender soles of both feet. Primarily because Perceptor expects Drift to not stay off her feet, sit still, and take this well.]

[Perceptor snorts indelicately and then takes what's left of the cloth he'd been cutting into strips, and excises a neat circle, about two and a half times wider than Drift's body is. The scraps get tucked away, while he removes some sturdy wire from his medical kit and begins fiddling with it.]

No, yourself. I refuse to abandon you to your melancholy, Drift. There is no reason that I cannot continue to assist you while I perform what investigation I can.

[He looks up from the cloth and wire for a moment, offering a small smile.]

Besides which, I should examine your quarters to be certain that there are no devices present which could have triggered this alteration.

[A few moments later, he presents Drift with a serviceable parasol to keep the pink petal precipitation from continuing to patter down upon Drift's pate. It's not an artisan craftpiece, but it does collapse down into an equally serviceable cudgel when Drift doesn't need to dodge flowers.]

I am fine. Really. It'll just take some getting used to. Like...walking.

[Sigh.]

Why would the First Forged do this to us? Are there others effected this way too? [ Maybe it wouldn't seem so bad, that way.]

...what is this?

[Perceptor stifles a disappointed sigh; he shouldn't be surprised that Drift doesn't want his help. They hardly know each other... or, rather, Drift hardly knows him.]

There are other humans here who can assist you, then... if you require it. Vandal, perhaps? [Drift and Vandal seemed to have a sort of comfortable familiarity with one another, anyway. Perhaps she would be more acceptable to Drift.]

We do not know that the First Forged are behind this, yet. Perhaps it is some effect of the Lambda? I have not heard of any others affected, however, I contacted you as soon as I awoke from recharge, and have not had an opportunity to investigate yet.

[Perceptor shrugs, at a loss for what to do now.]

Oh. Something to shield you from the sakura blossoms. [That are still appearing out of nowhere and drifting artfully down.] And a weapon more appropriate to your current size, until you are restored to normal. [Since the Greatsword is a bit large for her hands right now.]

One of us should call Vandal. You will need to eat, and perhaps she will have more maneuverable clothing?

I'll manage. [He doesn't want help. From anyone. He's not weak.]

This doesn't just....happen. Nothing does. Ever. Everything has a reason. We need to figure out what it is.

[He takes the parasol glumly. It's kind of Perceptor but...yeah. He'd rather not need anything.] ...thank you.

[No one is saying that you're weak, Drift.]

As you wish.

Correlation does not imply causation, Drift. I will make an inquiry into your transformation, and into the possibility of other individuals being affected in a similar manner, however, there may be no more specific reason than chaos theory. Especially here, where the Lambda is capable of influencing and interfering with so much.

[He holds up a hand quellingly.]

Whatever the cause, whether it is some nefarious plot, or pure chaotic interference, we will determine the cause and reverse it.

[He sighs softly, eyeing Drift with a pensive expression.]

Are you certain that there is nothing else you require?

[Drift is.]

There's no such thing as chaos. Things happen for a reason. [Wing. Wing happened for a reason. ]

[He's trying to be philosophical and detached because if he lets it get to him, he's going to have an epic meltdown. He may have one anyway.]

I'm fine. Or I will be. [He looks around the room. ] This is the safest place for me anyway.

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