For Day 1 of Dritchet Week 2022: Hungry and Pain
||(Day 2)||(Day 3)||(Last Day)
Siege Ratchlock. After two bots beat the hell out of Drift he meets a kind mech with a kond touch. A touch that will leave him with a hunger he can't fill.
The Dead End, damp, cold, unyielding and cruel to all of it's citizens. Old bots or new, here not even the light of the sun would give it's people hope.
Drift was a straggler, whatever whites he had were long soild. The aches, damage, pain on his frame have long pass the point of background static. Walking with no direction, walking because it made time move forward faster. Because it was harder than to let his thoughts take over.
"Like that one." An enforcer voice clip rang in Drift's microphone. "You there, we're investigating this rumor and would like your cooperation." They speed up to catch up to him.
Drift keeps walking, he stop caring a long time ago about bots trying to talk to him. "There's talk of a medic running an unauthorized medical center here in Dead End. Have you any information?"
"No." Primus, what kind of idiot would build a hospital here. They're just going to get their supplies stolen. That's not including whatever gang leader plan for them.
"Maybe we ought to smoke him out." The other bot following him to his left said. "Obviously these low lifes ain't gonna to tells us where their biggest hit will come from."
They push Drift to the ground, one of the microphones in his finals blew out. The metal crack in half, and one of the enforcers bent in his armor inwards. The exhaust goes up his throat, the fine grounded energon leave his mouth full of grit. The bands on in his engine snap, and it starts to click as the first warning of his system about to dying.
-----
There was a touch...
It was gentle, kind, coaxing him to wake up. Then a soft light enters his vision, too blurry to figure out where he is. Nothing really but a nice cyan blue against a faint gold aura. Drift didn't want to get up. You think being dead wouldn't hurt this much. Or even that you get to sleep in more but no, guess the universe doesn't work like that.
"Come on...", a voice came from the left side of his frame spoke. It too was soft, even though the it was on the lower register. "I know it hurts but please wake up." Melodic, cooing at his mic, making the fins flutter. However, it also carried a sorrow to it. As if it already knows that Drift has past away.
That soft touch turns into a gentle caress. It first pinches his dulled claws, then it moves to hold his hand. It feels so good that when it tries to move away Drift tightens around the retreating hand and pulls them closer. "Not yet..." Drift couldn't recognize his own voice. There was too much static, flipping through to many different stations to try to sound coherent. "Just a few more seconds..." he tries to plead with the kind touch.
Drift is not too sure about how he wakes up. All he sees is that bright cyan turn into a handsome face with the most divine smile. He can feel his intake start to go dry, and a hunger he's never known form. The way the other mech's field intermingled with his, relief joy and pride. It was all so beautiful and that's when he knows that he could never be full again, not without that wonderful field around him.
He finally opens his eyes and really looks back at the mech. "Oh thank Goodness." The mostly white bot squeezes their hands. "Your alright." His grey faceplate stopped worrying showing his true beauty.
"Yeah... I guess I am." How could either of them know that Ratchet would doom him completely.
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“I love you— ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” - Fox
For a moment, Rush was very still and quiet. Moss green eyes searched the commander’s face for any indication that he was being teased, but the clone was difficult to read at the best of times.
“It’s…certainly unexpected…” he answered carefully. “Quite possibly the strangest thing I’ve heard, but far from the worst. Not even unwelcome, in fact…”
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@masqce 回 = patching a wound . ( guangyao to xue yang )
xue yang watched the other as he watched the other, very unsure of what to do. he remembered this person. remembered as they claimed that they knew one another and even if he’d felt some sort of recognition, he hadn’t completely believed it. watching as he patched his wound, he wondered if it was possibly true. there was only one other person that had shown him any kind of care and he had no idea how to react. “why are you helping me?”
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