Pharma's place in a Functionist society (headcanon)
So I've talked in some previous posts about all the reasons that Pharma isn't a functionist because canon never showed him espousing functionist ideals + he's actually in a place to be a victim of functionism. And I've been working on a Pharma-centric oneshot that made me put into words the best metaphor I can think of for Pharma's relationship with Functionism:
He doesn't support Functionism, but is simultaneously a beneficiary of it and also marginalized by it, because his position of being forged both a doctor and a jet basically turns him into a "token minority" of sorts.
I know that sounds kind of silly or maybe like a clumsy political allegory, but hear me out. There are a couple facts about Pharma and the circumstances of his forging that put him at the crossroads between privilege and marginalization within Functionism:
Tyrest says that Pharma was "famous for being forged." Not famous for being a forged medic-- otherwise surely Ratchet would be just as noteworthy-- but famous for being FORGED. But also, note that this is an opinion that SOCIETY had about Pharma, not something that Pharma espouses about himself. (For the sake of an example, Pharma isn't Starscream, who has an explicit, deep-seated need for others' love and approval. Pharma himself doesn't express any opinions on his own popularity or convey that fame/adoration is something he wants.)
Functionism on Cybertron held that if someone was born with a certain alt-mode, they can/should only have certain jobs. For people born with flight alt-modes, those people were almost always regulated to military or transportation/courier jobs
SIMULTANEOUSLY, Pharma was forged with medic hands, which under a Functionist society were viewed as the peak of medical care and all the best doctors were forged or at least had a "special something" that non-forged hands lacked (according to Ratchet).
So taken in combination, this means that from the moment of Pharma's birth, he straddled a line of Functionism between two different "predestined" paths for him, where he was simultaneously forged to be a doctor and also forged to fly, fitting into BOTH of these categories despite norms of Functionism which say you're one or the other. And I speculate that the reason Pharma is "famous for being forged" is precisely because of those lines he straddles: his very existence is a contradiction, but he was also FORGED that way. The same creed that dictated the two different functions of "hands" and "alt-mode" also says that Pharma should be what he was born to be. What he was born to be was a forged medic jet.
In my opinion, I think that being "famous for being forged" is sort of like a token-minority situation for Pharma, where perhaps Pharma was seen as a curiosity or even something exotic, not just as a person. Maybe because he was a jet and people assumed jets were only soldiers/transportation, a lot of his achievements were put in the light of "Oh, he's a really amazing doctor, for a jet" or "It's crazy that he's a doctor AND a jet at the same time". The attention Pharma received for the unique circumstances of his birth WAS positive, but it would've likely been framed in a bit of a condescending way, as if Pharma is noteworthy and famous not for being a good doctor, but for being a good doctor despite being born a jet.
So I would say that as far as Pharma's personal experience with Functionism, he simultaneously experienced privilege and marginalization. He enjoyed the privileges of being a medic while avoiding the restrictions of being a flight frame. However, a lot of the idolization and attention he received would have also come from a place of tokenizing Pharma: he's "famous for being forged," because in this society he's defying expectations merely for existing as himself. That is to say, Pharma in a Functionist society wasn't treated as remarkable because of who he is as a person and how hard he worked to be a good doctor; he was treated as remarkable for the circumstances of his forging, something he had no control over and can't change, and apparently Pharma being a forged medic jet is such a noteworthy origin that he's "famous" for it.
The above paragraph is purely headcanon, of course, but I like to imagine that part of Pharma's reason for having a big ego isn't out of simple vanity or insecurity, but because of a sort of "gifted student" syndrome, in a sense. From the moment he was forged he was treated as a rarity and an incredible phenomenon, and he would have had to work incredibly hard to be seen as "an incredible doctor" in his own right rather than just "that forged medic jet." Maybe, as a jet, he also had something to prove; he had to show to a Functionist society that being a jet doesn't make him an inferior doctor and that his alt-mode has nothing to do with his skills at his profession.
That is to say, I don't think Pharma would have been openly anti-Functionist, or had many opinions about it at all. I actually lean towards the interpretation that Pharma basically saw himself as getting lucky with the way he was forged and being content with the fact that he'd managed to carve out a reputation for himself as being incredibly skilled. However, Pharma not getting involved politically in Functionism doesn't change the fact that he WOULD have had a very complicated relationship with Functionism, in that alt-mode discrimination would have had an effect on him even though he was in the scientific/medical class and supposedly privileged.
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"2002"
Words: 2,042
<"You find a white VHS tape under the floorboards of the house... it's dusty, and covered in what appears to be bloodstains...the label on the front has nothing on it except for a year....2002...">
<do you want to play this tape?">
<;⚠️warning, the following tape contains topics that some may find triggering or discomforting. This includes Blood, implied gore, horror themes, brutal murder, implied death/murder of a child/children, death, ect. Please be cautious if you decide to view this tape⚠️>
[Y] [N]
<playing tape....>
To the public, Hameln was an incredible and well respected business. Their work and creations made to benefit children and their education were beloved by children and parents all around. It brought joy and made teaching easier for the people in these hard times while the Earth continued its unpredictable changes…
If only they knew what Hamelns true intentions were…and what was really happening behind the company walls.
If only they could hear the pained screams that came from below the floors… if only…if only…
The CEO of Hamlen stood in his office, watching the traffic outside of his window. All these people innocently going about their day…completely ignorant.
How perfect
Absolutely perfect.
All of them were unaware of their project or their experiments. Completely oblivious.
There had been reports of illegal equipment and substances going missing…And right after thatt was the unexplained disappearance of a certain show's beloved creator. Sam Colton.
But of course, no one suspected Hameln, the most child friendly company out there. The company Sam was working with right before he vanished…
He may as well have everyone wrapped around his finger at this point, he and his business were so well respected that no one would ever think to take them into consideration when anything like this happened. They were walking and driving by the enemy they were “desperately” trying to find.
Of course, Even if they were the last ones to be suspected of any crimes, they had to remain careful.
After all, if anyone were to catch on….it would be all over.
That could not happen. They had already come so far. He would NOT let anything or anyone ruin this….
“Mr.Hameln?”
A voice behind the office door called out the CEO’s alibi name.
Using his own company name as his last…how incredibly smart of him, right?
“Hmm? Come on in!”
The door opened, a man dressed in a surgical uniform walked inside. He reeked of iron and his uniform was covered in blood.
“Hameln” smiled at the sight.
“Ah, Doctor Smith! I was hoping you would come in! I see you’ve been doing what I asked of you. Although, I was hoping you’d be a bit more…professional. Please tell me you didn’t track blood all over my clean floors!”
The man chuckled at his own comment while the neurosurgeon just shook his head. “Now is hardly the time for this, sir. This is no laughing matter”
“Oh I was being serious. But you’re right. Now tell me, how much have you accomplished?”
“The boy that you chose for the role of the sheep in the cartoon is ready. I attached the provided device into his brain. As we speak, his consciousness is being transferred…We are preparing to repeat the experimental procedure with Coltons daughter.”
“Perfect. And his memories? Will he remember any of this?”
“...he shouldn’t. He was barely holding onto what he knew while I was stitching his head”
“Good. If he remembers any of this upon waking up it would ruin everything. I appreciate your hard work, but you wasted your time putting him back together.”
“....Excuse me. What the hell does that mean?”
“Language, Mr. Smith!! Anyways, I would assume it was obvious. We can’t exactly…keep their bodies you know. We would get shut down immediately.”
“Should we not try to at least give them a proper farewell? They were children. And technically, they still are.”
“Funny how you didn’t take that into account while you were taking poor [ERROR] apart! Rather hypocritical of you, wouldn’t you say?”
The CEO grinned as Mr.Smith glared at him, but said nothing. They both knew he was right. Smith was no better than “Hameln” or anyone else taking part in this operation.
“Now then…before you take care of Rebecca…I want you to dispose of the body..Take it to my dear friend downtown….The bu-"
[Tape Error!! Restarting tape….]
[Resta..rt….ing….]
[Re…]
[“I know where Sam is, [REDACTED]”]
[Start…..]
[“I know you and Rebecca have been worried sick about him…”]
[Starting…]
[“How about you meet me down beneath the company floors tonight while your friend is resting…and I’ll tell you EVERYTHING…”]
[Restarting-g-g-g-g tape]
......
This wasn’t right.
The boy had been walking for what felt like days.through the never ending pitch black emptiness that consumed the world around him. It was dark and cold. There was no one else here, nor was there anything he could use. He didn’t know where he was going,or where he even was to begin with. This place seemed to be infinite…and he felt like he was trapped….This looked like something that would be a nightmare, but he was certain he wasn’t sleeping, he would have waken up by now, wouldn’t he?
Not unless he was…dead..
But…that couldn’t be possible. There was no way he was dead. There was no way..there had to be an explanation for this. This had too be….a dream..he had just fallen asleep right? Just a while ago?
….He couldn’t, remember. He couldn’t recall, anything really. Not even his own name..
This…
Maybe this was a self aware sort of dream. And he was consciously living through it…
Which sounded, almost as scary as death. But as long as he woke up soon…
Things would be okay, everything would..
The boy gasped as a sharp pain ran through his arm. He grabbed onto his shoulder, trembling. Maybe this was part of the dream? Or maybe this was…phantom pain. That had somehow made this way into this nightmare..
He looked down at his arm…and what he saw made him scream.
His arm was scrawnier and his fingers….he barely had fingers anymore. They looked more like hooves….three hooved…fingers..? What….the heck…
Upon further inspection of himself, he noticed something…forming around his neck. Something fuzzy. He felt it with his other hand….it felt like..wool..
From a sheep…
No
No, no, no..
Panicking, the boy began to run through the darkness, tears welling up in his eyes. His body was slowly changing into something else. He could feel it. His other arm was now changing, and more wool was forming all over his body…and the pain…he was in so much pain, and as he kept changing, it kept getting progressively worse…
But he had to keep going. There had to be an end to this place..and with the end there would be an exit, right??
He ran and ran and ran..but there was nothing in sight..nothing…absolutely nothing…
He couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was becoming unbearable. It felt like someone was tearing him apart, piece. By. piece.
He fell to the floor, letting out another loud scream. He screamed and cried and wailed as the horrible pain continued…
This…this couldn’t be real. There was no way this was real.
This didn’t even feel like a dream anymore. It felt like some sick and twisted punishment in the form of a nightmare…
Why him of all people? Had he done something to deserve this??
He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember anything. What had he done? What could have happened for this outcome to take place??
WHY couldn’t he remember…
The pain began to die down, but he still felt so sore..he couldn’t stop himself from crying. It was too much to bear.
“Someone…h-help…help m-me…” he choked out, trying to stand himself back up. He immediately fell right back onto the ground. He looked down at his feet, they had become hooves…
What was this?!
“Help!! Help me please!! I’m sorry!! Whatever I’ve done I’m so sorry!!!”
Of course..nobody answered.
It was hopeless.
He was trapped alone in an infinite void with nothing..and he didn’t even know why….or how this came to be..
A sudden bright light pulled the boy away from his thoughts, he covered his eyes at first, a sudden light being turned on after being in the dark for so long hurt his eyes… but when he could open his eyes again, there was…a giant white rectangle in front of him.
It buzzed and made unusual static noises, kind of like… a tv..
He went to stand up again, his legs wobbled as he tried to balance himself on the hooves. Carefully, he walked closer to this “screen”.
Not only did this weird rectangle provide a nice source of light in this void…but he could look through it.
However, the only thing that he could see upon looking through…was a butcher shop.
Something about it felt…horribly off. The lights were off and the windows were thickly covered. The door was even barricaded. Yet he could hear the sound of mumbling and footsteps from somewhere out of sight of this screen.
Everything about it was…unsettling.
Like whoever was here was hiding something, and didn’t want anyone to come in and catch them. It felt like he was watching a horror movie of some sorts…Or maybe this shop owner had a…weird way of showing he was closed.
He flinched as he heard a phone ring from another room.
That was a bit odd. Who would be calling at this moment? A potential customer?
The call seemed to be answered immediately. The boy listened in as whoever was inside of the shop began to speak.
“Hello? Yes, Of course its me. Good afternoon Hameln.”
..Hameln….for some reason, that name sounded…familiar..?
“Yes of course, the first job has been done. I have just finished dealing with the body. The meat will be sold once both are gone. Nobody will know it is them.”
The boy trembled, wrapping his arms around himself. So this was a MURDER he was witnessing…Someone already died, someone else was next….that was just…disgusting.
But who were these victims that they were referring to?
He heard a click, and watched as a door opened from behind the counter of the shop. A man wearing a blood stained apron slowly walked out, holding a large, oozing plate of fresh, raw meat…
The boy gagged at the sight, covering his mouth. He could almost SMELL that awful iron reeking from the blood of the meat…it looked so grossed and mashed up…Was that the victim??
What poor soul suffered at the hand of this monster?
The phone rang again, and the man groaned, walking back into the other room to answer the call.
The boy just looked around at what he could see from this screen. He was sickened. There was blood everywhere. The man had tracked blood from the room the murder most likely took place..bloody footprints as well as splatters were visible in that doorway….as well as….hair?
He took a closer look. Sure enough, it was hair. A clump of hair. Oddly, it looked….white..
Like his hair..and the fluffy wool forming all over his body…
He tried to see if he could see anything else from the opened door, but the “screen” suddenly shorted out, and static buzzing filled the area, as the visuals on screen became nothing but gray,, white and black pixels…
Then it flashed, the screen was still pixelated, but now there was a three word sentence in the middle of the screen, written brightly in red.
“Do you remember?”
The boy felt chills down his spine. “Remember..? I..”
No
He didn’t remember anything. Even after all of this, he didn’t have anything memories from any time before this…absolutely nothing.
“I don’t..”
The screen suddenly shut off, as if it responded to his answer. It was completely dark yet again.
The boy sighed, deciding that it was time to continue his search for a way out of this place.
But the screen flashed on again. Immediately, hoping for answers, he looked right into it…
And he screamed.
He fell to his knees and broke down sobbing, screaming, pleading to wake up from this horrible nightmare. Begging to be saved from this horrible fate.
But no one came
Instead, the screen disappeared, and the same unbearable pain from before struck the poor kid.
It felt like he was going to die…
He tried to hold on and stay strong, he tried to call out for someone, something, anything to help him..but it was too late.
He blacked out.
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