| Nightlash Meets the Psychiatrist | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 04 May 2019 |
| Location: | Rung's Office |
| Synopsis: | Nightlash has a session with Rung, and Rung learns some discomforting details. |
| Cast of Characters: | Rung, Nightlash |
- Rung has posed:
Rung has tidied his office in preparation for the next scheduled appointment - model ships arranged on their shelf, his desk in order with a single datapad in front of where he sits, the windows open enough to allow light to stream into the room, the door slightly ajar.
He's just finished reading Jazz's response to Starlock's report about the Sonic Canyons... incident. The lengthy report itself is still open on the datapad, and every now and then he glances down somberly at the list of deceased.
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash is here? She stands outside the door for a moment, sort of just staring at the thing with an expression that is...well, confused. Like someone who wound up somewhere without realizing it... And for a moment, she just...pauses, hesitates, and...then looks herself over.
For once, she's...not in her alt-mode. It's a rare thing. She still looks like an absolute wreck, but...that's to be expected. She /only/ got tended to the previous solar cycle and...well, there's still a lot of missing paint and pieces...but, hey, that's to be expected, right?
She sighs, and then just raises a hand to knock...before thinking better of it. She's expected, right? So...she just walks right on in.
- Rung has posed:
It just so happens that Nightlash enters while Rung is gazing at the report on his datapad. If he hadn't been expecting her arrival, he would've been taken by surprise. He looks up with a gentle smile as he swiftly closes the report.
"Hello, Nightlash," he greets her. "Make yourself comfortable. How are you feeling?"
He can't help but notice the condition she's in, and makes a brief note of it in his datapad.
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash blinks...and mutters. Slag. He's here, and amicable, and...right. She closes the door and shuffles over to take a seat, spending a good few minutes just shuffling about... leaning left, right, arm resting on armrest, chin propped on elbow...it's...a good moment or ten before she actually seems to settle on a 'comfortable' spot.
And then she's glancing about the office itself, and...oh, there's a window. She coughs softly and slides her chair closer to the window, relaxing noticeably as soon as she's nearby the open view... And then it's just...silence, and she sort of just...stares, waiting until the question itself registers.
"I...I'm here? Okay, I guess. I mean, the uh...flight systems are a bit sticky, slows my agility in any sort of right-leaning yaws or...stuff, but, eh, I'll knock 'em loose soon enough."
- Rung has posed:
"I can't say that I know how that feels," Rung replies, "but I imagine it's uncomfortable. Have you had your flight systems looked at?"
It's impossible for him to miss her fidgeting, and he tries to determine if it's a product of restlessness, discomfort, or even both. Right now, he's guessing discomfort. Talking to a psychiatrist isn't an easy thing to do, and if the records are right, Nightlash didn't even choose to have this meeting with him. It wouldn't be surprising at all if she was highly uncomfortable with it.
- Nightlash has posed:
Discomfort /might/ be a way of putting it, but...probably not for reasons like being in an unwanted meeting. "Yeah, Starlock did some work getting me back in ...functional shape. Suppose I'll still need some follow-up...but, eh...no rush." She leans over slightly and motions towards the datapad.
"Good report, eh? Heh...I swear, riled those Decepticons up something fierce... probably totally got my name on some sort of... 'kill list' or something." She chuckles softly.
- Rung has posed:
"A bit of follow-up work never hurts - especially if it addresses a problem that you can't solve on your own." Rung leans back in his chair. He decides to let Nightlash lead the direction of the meeting, and speak about the matters on her mind that she's comfortable enough to share. "Are you worried that you're on a 'kill list'?"
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash blinks at that and shrugs. "Not...really? I mean...heh, what's the worst that happens, war's over as far as I know?" She glances out the window and just sort of...watches Iacon for a moment. "Besides...there's worse things. What'd they even include in my files, out of curiosity? I /know/ Prowl's got all kinds of stuff in there on me."
- Rung has posed:
Rung makes another quick note on his datapad before giving Nightlash a small, sad smile. "Yes, there are worse things," he says, "but I imagine your friends and peers would be greatly affected by your death."
An abrupt change in topic... he's not surprised. Death is a touchy subject, especially your own death. "There wasn't much additional information given when your appointment was made," he answers. "Just a time and date and a brief sentence on what happened. Is there a reason you're curious?"
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash shrugs. "Friends? Pfft... find me one. I think more would just be relieved I'm not tinkering around with explosives than actually upset I'm gone... besides, any help I was kinda just...crashed and burned." She grunts.
"And no reason, naw... Prowl's just...got a lot on me. Surprised they didn't give you some kinds of heads up... I mean, hah, I've been told I've got screws loose ever since I crashed and was left for dead...ooooh...yeesh, that was forever ago? What's the word used not long ago to...ah, right, yeah, unstable."
She mutters. "Bet there's at least a few taking bets on whether this office suffers a sudden explosion or not."
- Rung has posed:
Rung winces inwardly, feeling a pang of sympathy for Nightlash. In his mind, those off-handed, self-deprecating comments are a pretty big indicator of her emotional state.
"I'm afraid I cannot find friends for you," he says. "Finding friendship is something best done by one's self. Nobody can determine whose company you'll enjoy better than... well, you.
"Do you really believe what you said about yourself?" Rung continues, peering inquiringly at Nightlash. "That you have 'loose screws', and that you're no longer any help to anyone?"
- Nightlash has posed:
"It...it's like...I know, sometimes, the ideas and stuff I have in my head are...wrong, or I shouldn't do it, or...I should just...not...follow that particular...whatever. But that doesn't change the fact I still do it all anyway. It's like there's two minds in here," she taps her head, "one is just...trying to be reasonable, the other just wants to watch everything burn."
She gives a slight shrug at that. "Been that way for a while...think that's why Prowl liked getting me to do work for him when I was neutral. But...I dunno, maybe I scared him so he got me to put this thing on," she taps the insignia, "and...eh, but I don't know. As for...useful?"
Well, if there's a topic that turns her mood from sarcastically snide and snippy, this one just did it. "I'm...good at blowing things up or starting fires or being...just an obnoxious thing in the air. I had the drone...and, it helped...I mean, it could...guide others and do things I couldn't..." There's a pause. "And...like, I know I shouldn't, but...part of me regrets ever having followed Hyperdrive to that stupid Power Base."
- Rung has posed:
Rung listens keenly to everything Nightlash has to say, giving her his full attention - note-taking can wait, and he doesn't want to scare her back into her shell. Right now, he just wants her to talk, and get some of her burdens off her shoulders.
"Alright. Let's break this down and work through everything piece by piece." He sits up straight, resting his arms lightly on his desk. "Why do you think your ideas and thoughts are 'wrong'? What /defines/ 'wrong', in this case?"
- Nightlash has posed:
"I've blown up refugees... I knew they were close by, but...I wanted to really make the Decepticons we were fighting regret crossing our paths. This," she taps her head, "said not to. Too close. Danger. Don't. I...still just sort of...watched myself push the button anyway. It's like when my head's trying to work, my frame just...behaves on it's own. It's been that way since the Rust Seas. That's why the Senate dismissed me and forced me to retire..."
She rubs her head. "And...I know I do stupid things. But I can't stop the stupid things from happening. Something's just...disconnected in there. Healthpoint looked at it once. She said...there was damage in there she couldn't fix. Too old. Too...much. I dunno."
- Rung has posed:
Rung remains silent here, thinking very carefully about his answer. He's under the impression that Nightlash is upset with her actions. The last thing he wants to do is rub it in further, or make her feel any worse than she does.
"Do you agree with Healthpoint?" he asks, choosing his words cautiously. "Do you believe that the damage she found cannot be fixed?"
- Nightlash has posed:
"I used to study weather patterns and atmospheric anomalies. I know that science. I know bombs and tinkering... I don't know medical nonsense. I defer to the professionals." She rubs her head and frowns. "It...but, yeah... I'm... I know it's all just kinda broken and whatever... I get along fine when it's just me tinkering in the armory or flying around and-"
There's a pause there, and she just sort of gets lost in thought. "I just need to get used to flying alone or something, I guess. That's all."
- Rung has posed:
"There are two methods - at the very least - of addressing something that's broken." Rung leans forwards ever so slightly. "The first one is to repair it. Even if Healthpoint's assessment is correct, and repair isn't possible, that doesn't mean you're a lost cause. This brings me to the second method: finding a workaround for the problem. Perhaps we can come up with techniques you can use to stay mindful of your actions and what might result from them. What do you think?"
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash shrugs lightly. "Eh...if Jazz is anything like Prowl, it isn't like I've got a choice in the matter. So...whatever works, I suppose." She's right back to the same sarcastic snark she had coming in. "So...yeah, you just tell me whatever it is I gotta do and we'll take it from there, I guess."
- Rung has posed:
Rung shakes his head. "I will not tell you what to do, or give you orders to follow. I have no desire to do either. What I will do, however, is provide suggestions and offer encouragement. How you respond is entirely up to you. I cannot force you to change how you think or view yourself."
He sits back, watching Nightlash patiently, and observes her reaction to that.
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash is quiet for a good moment or two, just sort of...studying the other mech before she settles back. "Fine. I'm listening." She then holds up a hand in a 'just a moment before carrying on' gesture. "No telling Prowl, though. If I get to figure something out...I don't want it with him putting a gun to my head again."
- Rung has posed:
"Duress is a terrible teacher," Rung comments. "I won't inform Prowl of any of this. You have my word."
Of course, if Nightlash is involved in anything that might be life-threatening to her or anyone else, he'd /have/ to inform someone in charge... however, he can just pick an officer who'll be able to handle it better. Someone who's not Prowl, definitely.
"Can you tell me what goes through your mind during one of those 'stupid things'?" he asks. "You say that you're aware you shouldn't do it, and yet your frame does it anyway. Can you describe how that feels?"
- Nightlash has posed:
"Yeah...it's... it's like I said. I sort of...I can think, like, the brain is working right, you know? I'm playing out all the ideas, options, going through which ones are good which ones are bad... but then the frame, the rest of me, is just doing whatever it wants. I've had times where my head is saying stop, don't, but...I can't. It's like there's something that just...keeps them from talking to one another when I'm really going into th big, stressful stuff."
- Rung has posed:
"Do you know what the rest of you wants?" Rung asks. "Generally, in stressful situations, our first priority is survival - however, in the scenario you mentioned earlier, you said that a part of you really wanted to make the Decepticons regret following you. To be fair, that desire is rooted in survival; the 'fight' aspect of the fight-or-flight response."
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash again just offers a shrug. "I...don't know. I mean...when I crashed in the Rust Seas, I...it was bad. I was there for a long time and...I mean, I don't know. Maybe? When Prowl had the gun to my head...there was part of me just saying...fine, let him, but...I joined the Autobots instead. So...mph. And, honestly? I have no idea... I'm not sure I really want anything as far as I know."
- Rung has posed:
Rung blinks several times, concerned. "May I ask what happened? I'm sure there's a great deal of information I'm missing, but it almost sounds like you were forced to join the Autobots under threat of death."
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash nods slowly. "Sort of? I...was a neutral. Sometimes I'd just...jump in with the Cons, or the Bots, all depended on who could keep me up and running or such. But...eh, started working with Prowl more after he took my drone and threatened it. The whole...psychoserum thing." She shrugs.
"Well, kinda after a bit of that...the Cons started shooting me on sight, so...there went /that/ whole deal, and...Prowl finally sort of told me I had to finally just pick a side because neutrals were all doomed to die. Then...he pulled a gun, put it to my head, and said if I was fine dying as a neutral he could see to that. Or...I could join." There's a slow vent. "You know...sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I said 'no'. Probably a lot less problems all around."
- Rung has posed:
Rung is quiet and still for a good long moment, his "eyebrows" furrowed slightly. The round lenses over his optics gleam slightly.
"Have you told anyone about this?" he asks quietly.
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash pffts. "Some... they believe it, but...honestly, what are you going to do? Better to just...forget it. Besides, like I said... I just keep to myself in the armory."
- Rung has posed:
Rung lowers his gaze. He looks... sad, almost. At the very least, solemn. "I'm sorry that happened to you." His tone is gentle. "Nobody should be forced into such a situation. 'Join or die'..." He shakes his head despairingly. "That isn't what the Autobots stand for."
- Nightlash has posed:
"Yeah, well...what're ya gonna do..." She huffs. "You'd be surprised... Maybe not all, but...eh, whatever... I'm here now. My drone's buried in rubble and honestly...it just feels like something's missing, so...eh, I'm just...tired, I guess."
- Rung has posed:
"Would it help if your drone was recovered?" Rung asks. He's still quite disturbed at the circumstances in which Nightlash joined the faction. "I imagine it might also help if you take some time off for repair and recovery, too."
- Nightlash has posed:
"It's gone... in Helex. I...used it to blow up the powerplant... I know my drone. It's gone." She slumps a bit. In spite of the point-of-fact statement, there's still something about saying it that just leaves her a bit...drained. "It's like...another part of my brain just quit working."
- Rung has posed:
"I don't know if this is possible, but is there the possibility of a replacement drone being made for you?" Rung makes a couple of notes on his datapad. "It sounds like the you and the drone had a connection of some kind, and perhaps a new drone will help fill in the gap that the old one left?"
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash sighs. "No. It's not the same. That drone...was my drone. It was /me/ in a sense...eyes, ears, a way to process things and see. It... it's...like I said. There's a large part of me that regrets ever following Hyperdrive to the Power Base, because...I might still have the drone if I didn't." She sighs. "Are we done?"
- Rung has posed:
Rung sighs as well, a soft, sad little sigh. "I understand. I apologize if I've caused you distress."
He types a few sentences in his datapad. "Would you like to arrange a follow-up meeting? I completely understand if you'd prefer not to, but I'd still like to help you develop techniques you can use to center yourself and maintain control during stressful situations."
- Nightlash has posed:
Nightlash pushes herself up and grunts. "I... I'm guessing Jazz will depending on what he hears." She starts for the door. "And I'm going to guess it'll be a yes...so...whatever. Just...write it in somewhere, I guess." She offers a wave. "Don't die, Doc...you're probably one of the good ones."
- Rung has posed:
Rung frowns - that wasn't the answer he'd hoped for. "I'll have words with him," he says gently. "Thank you for speaking with me, Nightlash. I wish you well."