Prime Example

The place that Tarn had chosen for their little winter escape was about 5 Breems drive to the south of the DJD base -a formation of abrupt hills overlooking a frozen lake.

Messatine was technically a snow desert, with temperatures that hardly ever went above freezing point, rendering organic life unfeasible. Mechanical lifeforms didn’t have things much easier -the risk of fuel freezing inside their lines and spark entering stasis lock within their cases during the harsher blizzards, a real threat.

However, Tarn had learned to admire and love the unwelcoming planet. The stark contrast between the white landscape and the colourful sky. The blinding shimmer of the snow. The whimsical ice formations that formed where the wind blew strong. They all brought him a sense of peace that was difficult to explain.

Springer has tried smoking, he's tried a few Chem tabs, and he's tried the purest of his bottles of energon. He's soaked until he damn near stripped his paint off.

Every stretch and medically taught shift.

And all of it failed. Leaving him hazy with aching. A battle he can't win. His armor rattles warnings as his engine gives a sticky grumble of pain," ...you can try..."

Rodimus pushes at something and the sheer heat he produces helps force it to soften. So it clicks audibly and he curses sharply in Camien. Threatening to dent the berth as he flinched. Frame vibrating under Rodimus’ fingers.

His vents rough and ragged as his rotors shift with a groan.

He settles under the affection. Field sullen as he eases back down onto his front. Just now aware he’d pushed up onto his forearms while he’d been trying to compose himself,“ .. S'fine. Had a drink before you showed up.”

He presses his face into his covers. Engine grumbling softer. He still hurts all over but the edges of crippling agony are somewhat dulled now.

The firm pressing turns gentle once the sharp click is heard and Rodimus flinches, pressing close and stroking his rotors gently. Fingers starting to work in little circles upwards and out to coax him to move them to a comfortable position. His own field pulsing gently, protectively. No need to hold up defenses with Rodimus here, he would protect Springer from anything.

Grunting softly. His rotors are still stiff and throb slightly but he lets Rodimus shift them into line with each other. He lets his field wash over him. Still on edge but he relaxes slightly more.

Letting himself run a new systems check while he recovers.

" Tanks rolling..." He never did fuel well when the pain finally got through to him. Impactir would curse up a storm at him. But usually that meant a shot of something strong to make him sleepy and a forced CR pod recharge.

Springer has tried smoking, he's tried a few Chem tabs, and he's tried the purest of his bottles of energon. He's soaked until he damn near stripped his paint off.

Every stretch and medically taught shift.

And all of it failed. Leaving him hazy with aching. A battle he can't win. His armor rattles warnings as his engine gives a sticky grumble of pain," ...you can try..."

Rodimus pushes at something and the sheer heat he produces helps force it to soften. So it clicks audibly and he curses sharply in Camien. Threatening to dent the berth as he flinched. Frame vibrating under Rodimus’ fingers.

His vents rough and ragged as his rotors shift with a groan.

He settles under the affection. Field sullen as he eases back down onto his front. Just now aware he’d pushed up onto his forearms while he’d been trying to compose himself,“ .. S'fine. Had a drink before you showed up.”

He presses his face into his covers. Engine grumbling softer. He still hurts all over but the edges of crippling agony are somewhat dulled now.

The firm pressing turns gentle once the sharp click is heard and Rodimus flinches, pressing close and stroking his rotors gently. Fingers starting to work in little circles upwards and out to coax him to move them to a comfortable position. His own field pulsing gently, protectively. No need to hold up defenses with Rodimus here, he would protect Springer from anything.

Springer has tried smoking, he's tried a few Chem tabs, and he's tried the purest of his bottles of energon. He's soaked until he damn near stripped his paint off.

Every stretch and medically taught shift.

And all of it failed. Leaving him hazy with aching. A battle he can't win. His armor rattles warnings as his engine gives a sticky grumble of pain," ...you can try..."

He starts with his fingers light on Springer’s shoulders, hands almost searing hot to the touch for a normal mech. Firm press and rolls of the palm and heel of his hand as he tries to help move things back to the place they should be.

Even if his touch is excruciating. He bites into his lip. Keeping his helm pressed to the berth as he lets the first roil of nauseating pain pass at being touched and pressed on. His vents rough as his engine groans and stalls a few times with the pain.

He wonders, briefly, if this was something like growing pains. Springer had a special diet after all. Was this happening because he wasn’t getting enough of the nutrients that his frame actually needed.

Springer has tried smoking, he's tried a few Chem tabs, and he's tried the purest of his bottles of energon. He's soaked until he damn near stripped his paint off.

Every stretch and medically taught shift.

And all of it failed. Leaving him hazy with aching. A battle he can't win. His armor rattles warnings as his engine gives a sticky grumble of pain," ...you can try..."

He starts with his fingers light on Springer’s shoulders, hands almost searing hot to the touch for a normal mech. Firm press and rolls of the palm and heel of his hand as he tries to help move things back to the place they should be.

Rodimus stretched his arms up over his head with a soft groan, leaning back in his office chair. He groaned quietly as he pushed himself up and moved over to the door, startled when he saw that Kup was actually coming in to meet him. Smiling softly, he reached for the old timer and took his hand giving it a soft squeeze before bringing it to his lips to give it a kiss.

"You've got me to yourself," he pauses, "I apologize I keep repeating myself," Kups servo rises and palms his faceplate being his usual goofiness, it lowers glancing to warmer watching the time go down. When it's done he cuts a piece and places it on Rodimus' and his plate one each. Hes being careful-

He paused to cut into the proto-lasagna, having a small bite and humming happily. Just as good as it looked and it tasted wonderful.

Rodimus stretched his arms up over his head with a soft groan, leaning back in his office chair. He groaned quietly as he pushed himself up and moved over to the door, startled when he saw that Kup was actually coming in to meet him. Smiling softly, he reached for the old timer and took his hand giving it a soft squeeze before bringing it to his lips to give it a kiss.

He vents, "the kids got the same energon need he does-" when he pauses to hear Rodimus out he smiles, "oh...no they'll see you..well feel you.." he presses a kiss to Rodimus' helm, "but food first because I'm dying for some of that proto-lasagna I made- I made it a bit spicy just to your liking.." he moved to lead Rodimus away.