by Gatkowski » Fri Oct 26, 2007 4:47 pm
- Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
- Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Autobase Prime - Main Medbay
Impulses and emotions coursing through her whole frame like electric charges had been an everyorn experience for Beretta. Ups and downs, inward and outward flux, depending heavily on her mood and momentary motivation.
At times, it was a hastily, rush vortex of a loud voice, swinging around her arms in gesticulation, with itching trigger fingers, ready to explode on the first and slightest bit of pressure. In other cases, Beretta was surprisingly calm and collected, her sharpness betraying her basically careless and loud nature. Her optic sharp and her mind set on her objectives, she seemed to be able to pull through anything.
Right now, in the dim, swirling blackness of her mind, she felt as mediocre as far the two polarities of her personality were from each other. It was like a deep, very deep pool of odorous sticky substance that gripped at her consciousness and wouldn't let her climb out of it. Similar to her regular overenergon hangovers after missions, but lacking the joyful delirium of those completely. In other, simpler words, it felt like slag.
However, all fogs needed to dissolve sooner or later, so was in the case of the femmebot, as small bits of incoming data on her surroundings began to make it to her central processing unit, slowly adding up and building up audio and visual description of the medical bay.
Light was painful as it penetrated the blackness adrift on Beretta's optics, making her light adjustments systems scream with warnings and quickly decreasing the amplification percentage.
"Whoa..." The distorted, broken voice came from her vocalizer, arriving to and leaving her mouth cavity as an unarticulated groan, making no sense.
The table she lay on was cold. Or maybe it wasn't, but felt very cold and austere. Like being dropped on rusting metal surface with no armor plates attached, the crass and jarred substance grinding against bare endo-skeletal framework, sending receptors screeching and sending numbing shivers down on the spinal structure.
As she gradually got to her senses, Beretta came to realize that the pain was still there. It shook her whole frame every time she tried to move her right shoulder. Then it clicked. her arm was almost torn off in the last battle. Someone took her back with the retreating force, but the wound had not yet been tended to, apart from some first aid, and cauterizing the leaking fluid lines. She was lucky to be functional.
Then another click. The horror and helplessness she felt when that Decepticon monster creature, or whatever it had been, grabbed and ripped her apart like some protoform's plaything, with barely more than a simple swing of its arms.
Then another click. There had been someone, who suffered the beast's terrifying might even more than her. It had been nothing compared to the hole blasted through her shoulder and chest.
"Remy!" Beretta screamed and shot herself up to a sitting position on the table, wildly lashing out with her left arm, almost knocking Perceptor, who was working on another seriously wounded Autobot, on the head.
Last edited by
Gatkowski on Tue Oct 30, 2007 4:17 pm, edited 3 times in total.