Wake Up & Smell the Trolling} Windshear]

[Freelancer Oregon]

February 4th, 2025

The giant, metallic doors were like the gates of another world to this pupil. Ones not of Hell nor of Heaven, no in between, but more of an unknown realm understandably alien to her entirely. Fear was not what propped her to gain a new feel of this world, the large, foreboding doors before her opening with the commands of her presence and its movements alone. No, no one would get in the way of her new chapter, her new life as of now. No one here would be allowed to slow it down.

It was never like Oregon to show courtesy when it came to the activities of some. It could be a likable trait to few, one bold and genuine to her personality, as for others, it irked them in every way. Not that those other unnamed victims could really do anything about it to change what it was.

Her petite frame stepped in, shadow cast eerily on her next victim for a moment, before the great doors that had permitted her in slid shut once more. Other than some technological sound about it, nothing else seemed to disturb the silence, yet. Of this fragile silence, beautiful, wounded with each step Oregon took. Her metallic, well armored boots made a light, just audible enough clank to follow the motions of the rest of her armor. Her view was on the form before her, up on his berth, sleeping peacefully. This, would not do...

She gathered her hands behind her back, linking them together whilst standing up straight and making sure to take on a completely casual yet professional manner for such an occasion. May the trolling begin.

"WINDSHEAR! THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL, FROM OBLIVION!!!"

The voice of Megatron boomed, absolutely obliterating the peace in this room without mercy.

[Windshear]

Windshear had been deep in recharge. His wings made it impossible to sleep on his back, so he had been lying on his stomach. He was larger than the average drone, so he didn’t quite fit if he sprawled out. Windshear had gotten used to sleeping somewhat curled-up, his head pillowed on one arm, his spine curved like a salamander. As Oregon walked in, she would see the drone’s face, visor dim and peaceful in recharge, his wingtips twitching occasionally, likely deep in some dream.

The shout shattered his peaceful recharge. The visor blazed to life and Windshear instantly leapt up to all fours, his impressive talons digging into the thick foam of his berth, his wings raised aggressively over his curved back, his engine roaring a challenge. He was ready to fight, to maim, to tear…

…but there was no-one there.

Windshear looked to his doorway, and then to the left and the right, before he finally looked down. What was this? “Wait.” He leaned over the edge of his berth, still crouched on all fours, like an angry cat ready to pounce. “You’re that human, aren’t you?”

Exactly what else he expected her to be was unknown.

[Irobashi]

The human female, doctor and warrior in field knowledge, troll by nature, staring back at Windshear whose attention she had successfully stolen. She remained in her position, silent, seemingly nonchalantly in her current state as she watched the mech preview some impressive reaction, somewhat frightening to the average person. In the very back of her mind was that person, but not up front where the world could see.

He seemed much like that bull dog from Tom and Jerry when Tom woke him up, scrambling up, looking about, then discovering Jerry instead. "Is purple the standard theme around here or what?" She found this so very very humorous. If they chose pink, there would be no way in hell she could ever take them seriously.

Failing to respond to his own question, she figured he could answer it himself in no time, choosing to occupy her own by tilting her head very much to the right, giving Windshear a look over, vast with interest. "Geez, a lot of you are pretty damn huge.. The smallest I've seen STILL towers over me. As if I didn't feel short before." The chuckle barely escaped her, Zeta was currently influencing her adrenaline quite a bit, making happy amusement over her entertainment a bit of a struggle. Still amused, she felt more serious about it.

[Windshear]

Windshear’s wings hitched up even more, rising up over his back the way a cat’s fur might fluff up. “You little glitch,” he growled. “Don’t ever do that again. I can’t squish you, because Master wants to keep you around for some reason. But I will make you sorry”

He slid out of the bed, moving with the easy liquid grace of a born predator, and towered over Oregon… until he crouched to put himself at her level, bathing the tiny human in the glow of his visor. Truth be told, even in this state, the enormous drone loomed over her, but he wasn’t trying this time.

“And yeah, purple is the Decepticon color, so I guess you’re just gonna hafta get used to it.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it, but I might be whatcha call biased.” This was followed by a booming laugh, one that was nearly as impressive as Oregon’s earlier shout. “And of course you’re tiny. You’re a human. Humans,” he added sagely, “are tiny.”

[Freelancer Oregon]

The threat meant very little to Oregon, which could possibly mean that Zeta's influence was finally lifting to give Oregon a break at long last. The lifting of her shoulders had been the first tell tale sign of her crossing arms, finding it to be more comfortable at this moment as they folded together snuffled across her chest armor. A laugh escaped her, her helmet hiding any signs of emotion other than that, somewhat echoing in this room as she watched his final response to the little joke. There it was, she almost thought that perhaps there wouldn't be one, truly.

Yet still, there was not enough trust being given to the Decepticons aboard this ship. Here, Oregon felt alone, and with this, only she had he own back. Her own tense body language gave the image of aggression, watching Windshear reach nearer, finally ceasing to crouch so close to her. Oregon's visor stared unchanging at Windshear's, eying his talons from the side, before she received his his laugh on top of the discussion of their color of choice. She too had to agree on purple, in a way that she shrugged as well and decided that whatever kept their boat afloat, guess it worked.

Oregon had attempt not to move in response to his laugh, though her eyes did widen for a moment. The magnetic grip in her boots kept her planted, her upper body, might of swayed back a tad for a moment. "Yeah, in your point of view." Shrugging it off, no hard feeling made. "I'm used to being called short, so I don't really care."

Windshear, for a second, she contemplated this. "Your names kind of remind me of robot Indians. Ehr, Native Americans I guess you call them."

[Windshear]

Windshear slowly tilted his head. “I don’t know what that means.” He decided to try and remedy that by accessing the net. He was silent for a few moments. “Oh. Okay. So you aren’t used to people earnin’ their names. Well, Pit, that makes more sense to me.”

He pauses. “And that’s really more my nickname. My actual name is EN- 686. That’s what I was made with. The name I earned is Windshear.” He shrugged as best as he was able tin his awkward, hunched-over position. “It don’t work that way for you humans, too?”

[Freelancer Oregon]

Now, it seemed like this robot business was ENTIRELY military based. She too, had had to earn her own name. "I think I'll stick to calling you Windshear, easier to remember." Her own visor stared at his, blankly. The mech would not be allowed to see passed that point unless he were to pick apart her words correctly. "I guess, it depends. In the line of business I had been in, military, you earned names. Ranks really, like Sergeant. Which became Special Forces Medical Sergeant for me, often what I was referred as until later on when I was given the name Oregon in place of my original name. Anistasia Arndt. Freelancer Oregon, I guess, was an earned name." Windshear.. It reminded her of shaving a sheep, and something going horribly wrong. Ultimately ending with their being a blood bath. Where had she seen this before?..

[Windshear]

“Well, there you go. You were made with a name, and you earned one.” He nodded. In his mind, this woman’s name was Oregon now. Anistasia Ardnt was her serial number, as far as he was concerned. “Just like us.”

He reached out and prodded her armored stomach with a single talon. “So I guess you’re my new pet, huh? Master mentioned somethin’ about rewardin’ me for bringin’ that other Freelancer in…” He wasn’t sure looking after some small, fragile human was anything like a real reward, but he supposed it would do for now. Megatron knew best, and it was not his place to question him. “What am I supposed to feed you, anyway?”

[Freelancer Oregon]

Well, she was glad to be able to relate to the large killing machine alien robot. Whatever made things easier in the future. This little comparison had given a new look to him, wondering just what this mech had been through to earn his name.

Her gaze passed over his wings for a moment and then back to him in an aggressive fashion for the lack of warning, shoving at the side of his finger whilst arching back somewhat to avoid being gutted. "Pet?! FUCK YOU! I'M NOT YOUR GOD DAMN PET! THAT'S SOME SERIOUS DISRESPECT RIGHT THERE, YOU'RE ASKIN FOR IT!" Her voice boomed directly at the never changing face of Windshear, saying she was both pissed and insulted would be to express her current thoughts simply.

This could prove to be a looooong partnership with how it had started, Oregon gave in to no one up front like that, nor would she stand for their disrespect. Alien or human, she wasn't going to let them change anything.

[Windshear]

Windshear jerked back, startled at the way the voice rang off his plating like a physical blow. His engine gave a low snarl, and in an instant, his hand darted forward to pluck the tiny human off the ground. He held her in one enormous, heavily-clawed hand. “Hey! You want disrespect? I’ll show you disrespect!”

He shook her a few times, quite violently; her suit would have protected her from any damage, but all the same, it was quite dizzying. “Don’t you yell at me, human! You’re here because Lord Megatron said I have to look after you!”

[Freelancer Oregon]

The human before him seethed a bit, fists out at her sides, ready and brazed as she watched him coil back in response. Her teeth grit together, sliding towards the left while her large, sage eyes glared back at Windshear in wait of his next move or words.

There was little to be done and little time to do it in. Instinctively, Oregon drew back to try and get away, but not quick enough. Trapped in his fist of steel, her arms and up having escaped his clutches, but nothing more. From there, the red head felt herself suddenly being whipped and thrashed about. Holding on for dear life, trying to keep her head down despite how many times it smacked into Windshear's metal hand. She grunted, lost in the punishment, wanting the crazed ride to end. "HRRN-RRN-NRRN" Unable to say much at first, a new tone to voice with each direction she was violently brought into.

"I'm not your damn pet! I'm NO ONE'S damn pet! I'll die first before I let you refer to me like that!"

[Windshear]

Windshear engine rumbled low and resonant as he drew Oregon towards his face, bathing her in the lurid red glow of his visor. His fingers tightened slightly, not enough to hurt her, but enough to remind her of her current helpless state… and then he chuckled. “Well, you don’t talk like a pet, that’s for sure.”

He leaned over and set her down. Oregon seemed to have earned her first modicum of respect for Windshear. “You talk like a fighter. Okay, then. I won’t call you a pet again.” A pause. “Unless… I forget. Which I might. So if I do.” He pointed at her. “Remind me.”

[Freelancer Oregon]

While Oregon had been undoubtedly appalled by the idea of being a pet to any, there was still no question that she was throwing rocks at a giant bear-raptor hybrid. One thing she would not die, standing for. Another, that may kill her, for not standing for the first.

When she forcefully neared his expressionless face, it felt as though this was an oncoming fight she may not win. Especially with what position she was in. There was no way to turn it down if that were to be the case. Her own eyes narrowed, not out of glare, but out of wishing the wait for what was going to happen to end. Feeling his grip tighten more, forcing herself not to recoil before.. Hearing him laugh.

Carefully she drew back out of his hand, stepping forward whilst eying it once her feet touched ground. Looking back at the rest of Windshear when he spoke again with crossed arms. No crushing was involved.

Her sage eyes shifted to his finger, a bit random, as if nothing had happened. "Trust me, you'll know if you say something that pisses me off. Will do." A tense brow raised, though, she wasn't going to show him if there had been any doubt of fear involved in that.

[Windshear]

Windshear chuckles again, a low, rolling sound. “Glad we understand each other. So, what exactly is… supposed to happen here? Are we some kind of partners now? Are we supposed to head out on patrol together?” He cocked his head. “Because I don’t think that would work, not unless you’re packin’ a jetpack in there.”

He stared down at the little armored creature. She certainly had spunk, and though he was impressed, that didn't mean that he wasn't a little frustrated to be saddled with her, even so. This was just going to complicate things, and Windshear did not handle "complicated" well.

He paused. “And for that matter, what is it you’re supposed to even eat, anyway?”

[Freelancer Oregon]

His first question received a shrug from the much smaller, armored figure in response.

"Eh.. I don't have a jet pack, really, I can't pilot anything that's off the ground safely. I dunno how I just end up landing everything upside down or crash it-" She cocked her head to the side as well, eying him a bit strangely. "If we were flying somewhere, why could I just hitch a ride with you?"

Oh lord, how was she going to manage that? Ask to be taken down to a little store, pick up some groceries, and come back? Also with that, it wasn't likely they had bathrooms here.. Something she had let her imagination run wild on before, the idea of some sort of injection that gave you a month's full of everything you needed, no waste. What about showers? Well, Megatron didn't know a damn thing about humans.. And she didn't want to sit down and share everything with the Cons either. "Uh.. I'll worry about that. As for the being picked up, and MAN HANDLED bit, stick to a fist pound? That's how we say hello from where I come from." It was a chance to make some conversation she guessed, holding out her right arm, fist formed, awaiting Windshear's reaction.