#⌈ ic. ⌋ — “ he's bleeding stones with his machinations and his palindromes. ”

[nonocere]

Once again, the pale mech appears out of seemingly nowhere. "What do you know about Pathfinder frames?"

⟫ "Primus!" Ratchet startles, the datapad that was in his hand clatters to the floor. "Don't do that— could give a mech a spark attack that way."

He bends to pick it back up and sets it on the nearest table. "I know they were defunct by the time I finished medical school. I also know they were used to enact cruel and unusual punishment by the functionists. The practice was not only incredibly barbaric, but the results often lead to a the mind and spark completely rejecting the body due to intense frame dysphoria."

"Most Pathfinders became drones due to the trauma and rejection. Which is why I'm so surprised you're still..." Ratchet makes a vague gesture with his hands at Wayfarer.

[nonocere]

⟫ Ratchet gives a curt nod, a small smile curls at his lips. If nothing else: this. It's a minuscule step, but it is one, and that's what matters. Recovery isn't a straight line. Has never been one. And he can only help giving him something to do is the right choice.

"I expect to see you tomorrow first thing in the morning. Got it?" Despite his gruffness, there is genuine concern hidden beneath many layers. Concern and regret. So much regret.

He wants to repair things, every fiber of his being hinges on that simple fact.

A heavy sigh escapes him. "I know, I know— Im not asking to be near your patients I just-.." Pharma winces, feeling each word physically. ( Do you not think I feel bad as it is? Do you not think I regret? )

But then Ratchet continues, and he stops in his tracks, giving a look of shock and confusion towards the other mech. What?

"You-.... You're saying...-" He stammers a second. "Yes... yes, I could do that...." An opportunity to work again. To be useful again. To have purpose. That's what he's been lacking since revival.

[nonocere]

⟫ "Smoking organic weed will NOT make you high."

[nonocere]

* @apollytus / starter call.

⟫ "Danger's over, Drift. You can put those things away."

[nonocere]

* @ghostlyvisage / starter call.

⟫ "I know a sick mech when I see one. Can't force you to let me take a look, but my offer's there."

[nonocere]

"Verity. She's- around. I thought you should know. In case she hasn't told you."

⟫ PALPABLE RELIEF. He'd been too anxious to try and reach out. Hunter was gone, Jimmy chose to lead a normal life, but Verity? Verity got herself involved over and over. Time and again. He warned her when she left with Magnus that someday this war would get her killed. He was worried that would be true, the war already took so many from him.

Ratchet vents shakily out. Honestly— he's surprised Prowl's kept tabs on her, all things considered. "That's- that's good. Don't think she knows I've been on Earth."

[nonocere]

Appears in his doorway.

"You could at least announce your presence with a knock first. Especially when I have things in my hands."

[nonocere]

"I'm entering the room," you announce, loudly and clearly, as you walk in with your primary hands raised. "I'm here, and I'm not sneaking. You can see me, yes?"

⟫ Well... it's a step up from just about getting a spark attack from Wayfarer's appearance. Ratchet raises a brow ridge, honestly he's surprised to see it so soon after the last time they saw each other. (Though, maybe not, considering he's only been moving between the hospital and Perceptor's place.)

"Yes. I can see you. What do you need?"

[nonocere]

⟫ Perceptor doesn't say anything and he is reminded of how much he used to talk. Key term being in the past tense. He sighs to himself, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair he pulled up beside Perceptor's berth. It's true he's been holding himself back, but he can't anymore. He needs to know what happened on Luna One.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but Prowl hasn't been very forthcoming about what happened. I know it was your emulator that did the most damage. But your scope? Your hand? I can only make assumptions. I need to know if you're okay. Not just physically— I can heal that."

For some reason he doubts his friend is mentally stable, perhaps it's the empty look in his eye. Perhaps it's the silence. If Prowl is falling back onto old habits hard, will he see first hand how the scientist became a sniper? That snap to a more overt and obvious cold calculation.

— Perceptor eases at the confirmation of Prowl's survival. He shifts uncomfortably where he lays. Everything not only hurts but it itches. He has enough presence of mind to stop himself from scratching at anything, knowing his own technobiology well enough to acknowledge that would be a bad idea.

He is quiet, his gaze straight up at the ceiling. This is his apartment. That stain on the ceiling that he can never clean, that came with the place, and ugly reminder of that truth. (Is he the stain? Impossible to get rid of. Ugly to stare at. Something one only notices in a particular way.)

He knows Ratchet is holding himself back from asking questions, and he can only hope he doesn't ask any time soon. Everything still feels so distant, and he realizes he must be in a state of emotional shock. This veil settling over all sense of whatever lingering feelings he experienced during the situation. He doesn't have it in him to look at the medic, because he knows he would tell him everything if prodded.

[nonocere]

⟫ "You're not ascending to godhood, you're just energon-starved."

[nonocere]

First Aid squints over her datapad.

“Ratchet, he’s got a point. You did look at his hands and think to take them. That one…that’s a little suspicious.”

"It was convenient! An opportunity presented itself to me and I took it. That's all. There is absolutely no deeper meaning."

[nonocere]

More important question: do you like my hands? :) how are they workin for ya :)

"You just had to make it weird... They're fine, Pharma. They're hands. They function. It's not that deep."

[nonocere]

⟫ "ah hell. i fell into stasis..."

[nonocere]

...What's the worst injury you've ever seen?

⟫ "I've seen some pretty awful slag in my day. Decepticons got real creative with that stuff when they really wanted to at the height of the war. Some especially cruel Wreckers too, not saying the Autobots were squeaky-clean. Heh. Guess one of the worst I like to tell people who ask this kinda thing is a mech's head got smashed down so hard his brain module ended up in his spark chamber. Or the bot who kept tearing apart their own body. Think they tried eating their own spark while at it...

Treating the Lost Light's crew when they got sparkeater-ified was pretty gruesome too. You know all those tentacles they got sticking out? A lot don't really think too hard about it, but those weren't TENTACLES. They were INTERNAL ENERGON LINES, completely externalized. If you're organic, think about it like this: imagine if all your veins and arteries were pulled out of your body and you were still alive. I know for a fact all of them were in abject AGONY the entire time.

Really I could go on. Being a field medic you see these kinds of things— not growing desensitized and offering patients compassion can get difficult if you're not careful enough."

[nonocere]

“i don’t want to explain a thing.” - jazz

NOT HERE

⟫ "C'mon, you don't think I can give you the best care I can give if you stay stubborn, do you? Didn't think you'd be as bad as Ironhide about this." Ratchet grunts as he pulls out the dent in Jazz's shoulder. There's an ugly smear of energon staining his hands from the earlier repairs he had to do.

[nonocere]

⟫ "Just had someone ask me if it's "safe" to drink engex and a quantum engine's fuel at the same time. Needless to say: don't."