Independent IDW/MTMTE Ratchet
M!A Status: none, accepting
Tracking: #nomorebacktalk
Mun and Muse are both of legal age.
PLEASE READ, THIS IS IMPORTANT
me? I take it one life at a time
He’d gotten back into an old habit of his - making plushies. This time around, they’d been plushies of some of his friends, and the latest addition was of his late best friend. Looking down at the plushie in his hands, he felt a surge of emotions rushing through his systems. Ratchet was nearby somewhere, but before Wheeljack could as much as turn to look for him, to search for the hug he desperately needed, his optics had opened the floodgates, and the tears streamed down his face, his loud sobs echoing in the small room. “Why, Bee?”
Ratchet had actually been resting. Not being chief medical officer anymore meant that he could actually take the time to relax every once in a while. He had been cleaning some of his tools when all at once, his conjunx - sitting there nearby - broke down with violent sobs.
He blinked and got to his feet, turning around to walk over, putting his arms around him from behind. “Jack? Wheeljack, talk to me.”
Rung raised an eyebrow at the mention of “no engex” - not that he was judging of course since he himself didn’t drink, but it was certainly news to him. Otherwise he didn’t comment. Best not to draw out potentially sensitive points upon first meeting again, he thought.
“I’m truly glad you found him,” Rung offered with a warm smile. Slipping out of his seat, he added, “Here, before you start - I’m running a little low myself, how about I go fetch something for us? How does a virgin Cosmos sound?”
It really made Ratchet feel a lot more comfortable to just talk to someone he was friendly with. This was his way of speaking to Rung, as well, without ever actually making appointments. He knew the psychotherapist likely saw right through it, but this honestly just... made him feel better.
“I think that sounds like a great idea. Feels weird to order anything virgin, to be honest. But it’s probably for the best, eh?”
“All right. I’ve got an ache in my processor that would probably kill a coilbuck, so if any of you idiots gets the bright idea to start causing trouble... it’s been a long time since I’ve thrown some wrenches.”
I’mma delete this later, but I totally wanna talk to you guys about a villain idea that I’ve no idea if I want to do anything with.
So I have this TF OC named Cobalt (she honestly could fit anywhere... TFP, IDW, etc). She was one of a group of refugees that escaped Cybertron during the war, seeking refuge at one of the lost colonies, or at least a place they could produce energon and hide from the brunt of the war. They ended up drawn in by the gravitational field of a small planet, at forces the few engineers aboard didn’t think were possible.
Everyone survived the crash, but they weren’t sure what to do about energon, since they were running low as it was. What they did find was that the planet was rich in unusual, energized crystals. With some work, it was determined they could be used to produce energon.
Some of the refugees aboard refused to drink the crys-en. It just seemed off to them, with a sort of sickly sweet smell and an odd, oily color. Those that did found that the efficiency of energy transfer was fairly low, but it was sustenance.
They didn’t expect what happened next.
Those that imbibed the crys-en suffered one of two distinct fates: some started to suffer violent convulsions, purging, and blindness before they succumbed to the toxins. Others started to actually grow crystals through their protoform and plating, leaving nodes on the palms, wrists, back, and face. Their optic color changed to a brilliant shade of green best described as “radioactive,” and they couldn’t seem to consume enough energon to feel functional.
Which was when they turned on the refugees that hadn’t imbibed the crys-en.
Whatever the toxic energon had done, it had turned a percentage of those that had willingly drank it into ravenous monsters, who hunted down the survivors in order to disable them and consume their innermost energon and essential fluids before killing them. They only seemed to derive benefit from this if they were still alive when they began.
Cobalt, by this point, had pretty much taken control of the crystal drinkers. She instructed the engineers who had survived to repair their ship so they could leave the planet and start hunting fresh prey out in the galaxy at large. Sometimes, someone who was attacked would get turned in the process. More often than not, they died from their injuries.
She’s smart, crafty, and dangerous, very much enjoying the hunt and the reaction of her victims, and is very good at using her assets to lower the guard of others.
And... that’s Cobalt and the crystal drinkers. I wanna do something with these guys, but I don’t know what. Thoughts?
【☆】⎡completely and entirely unbothered by and scathing looks casted her way, verity continued on ( at a slower pace ) towards the docking bay.
❝i think we already established that YOU’RE the geezer here.❞ the stowaway turned her gaze up and winked, the gust of air harmlessly jostling her loose locks.
❝geez. making this seem more like a chore than an adventure.❞⎦
He huffed, falling into pace beside her as he walked, shortening and slowing his stride just slightly. Geezer his aft. He admitted he was old, but there was still plenty of life left in him. More these days than in the past, at any rate.
“You know, calling this an adventure just means it runs the risk of being dangerous for us somewhere down the line. At the very least, that’s my experience with “adventures.””
Wheeljack shook his head vehemently. “Don’t be sorry, it’s my fault, anyway. I should’ve come with you. Primus knows most of the reasons I’m emotionally fragged up these past few years have all been related to the fact that I never followed you.”
He let out a short exvent, akin to a sigh. “You left to find your purpose, and in deciding not to follow you, I let go of mine.”
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Wheeljack’s hands made their way up the medic’s frame, finally coming to rest on Ratchet’s shoulders, for the time being. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first learned you were still alive. It’s… the other half of why I had my mouth plating fixed.”
Without further hesitation, Wheeljack’s servos shuffled positions one more time, holding Ratchet’s helm close to his own as he leaned his own helm forward, and locked lips with his lover for the very first time.
Primus, he’d been waiting a very long time for this.
That was it. That was what he’d been waiting for. Well... not entirely. He had always been happy with that little ripple of electricity that passed through his lip plating, leaving a pleasant tingle on his faceplate. For the time, that had been enough for him.
This, though. This was different. He leaned into his conjunx, almost jerking him closer in the process, his optics dimming out completely to black. He rumbled out a pleased sound, his engine growling in his chassis, before he finally pulled back, giving a broad grin.
“You’ve been waiting this whole time for that, haven’t you?” Not that he minded, of course. “Jack... look. We both did things we regret. But we’re past that. Water under the bridge?”
【☆】⎡grin unrelenting, verity trotted back to the medic’s side and gave him a few passing “good job” pats on the ankle. ❝nice run, doc. we should do it again some time. exercising alone is no fun.❞ they had to have gone at least a mile, right? something like that. it was enough to get her heart rate up, but not so much that it left her completely exhausted.
❝ANYWAYS, we were heading to the docking bay, yeah? unless you needed to make a stop anywhere beforehand.❞⎦
The look he gave her when she patted his leg could’ve frozen molten slag, though he sincerely doubted she was bothered by it at all. He could feel the age in his joints, and had to shift to relieve some pressure in his hips. Damned old age. “Easy for you to say. You are considerably younger than I am.”
He huffed a bit, expelling heated air through his vents, probably with enough force to reach the floor. “I have nothing I need immediately. Let’s get this errand over with.”
【☆】⎡and push her luck she would; such was the way of VERITY CARLO. but she might elect to stop running soon–––nor for her sake ( she was a-okay–––the epitome of fitness ), but for the old man’s. she could hear his joints groaning quite clearly.
❝maybe you ought’a grease your joints too, hunh? get some WD-40 in there. sounds like you’ve got a bunch of mice in your frame. c’mon, old-timer! time’s a-tickin’!❞ of course, verity was watching where she was going, and timed her jab right before rounding a sharp corner. in the moment she spent out of sight, she pressed her back against the wall and waited to see if her disappearance would be noticed.⎦
“I will grease my joints when they damn well need it!”
Though really, he had been known to... neglect his own personal care, especially when things were busy on the ship. Seeing as how he’d just returned from a situation in which he hadn’t really been able to do anything to mind his own frame... a check-up certainly wouldn’t be remiss.
He very nearly missed it when she bolted around the corner, skidding a bit when he forced himself to slow. She was surprisingly quick, for such a small creature.
♚–;; Once she had gulped down a few more mouthfuls of water, Leah returned the canister to her bag and her attention to Ratchet. “I think so, yeah. I mean, they may be keepin’ Froid an’ Sunder like that, considerin’ what they did to Getaway, but… Yeah, y’know. Who knows?”
“I’m not lookin’ forward to what this fuckin’ Star Trek Giant Robot Hell has for us next, y’know? Between killers inside the ship and monsters coming in from the OUTSIDE, I’m not really looking forward to any of this bullshit. It almost makes me miss Earth. …almost.”
“I saw medical reports. I wasn’t certain if they were true. But all things considered...” He trailed off, then sighed and shook his head. “I suppose in this case, inaction may be safer than action.”
Honestly... she had a point. While the atrocities here were nothing compared to some of the things he’d seen in the war - things that, at times, kept him awake at night from the memories - it was still enough to make even the most sane and rational being question staying on. “All we can hope for is a chance to catch our breath, so to speak. Who knows?” He gave a wry smile. “Perhaps we’ll get lucky.”
THE CAR HAD ANOTHER CAR COME OUT OF IT EXCEPT THE OTHER CAR WAS FULL SIZED AND IN NO WAY SMALL SO HOW WAS IT ABLE TO GET IT OUT OF IT'S TAIL-END IN THE FIRST PLACE? DOES THE MEDIC HAVE ANSWERS?
“I can safely say that this... video is in no way how Cybertronians reproduce. Human cars don’t do that anyway, as they are entirely manufactured. I suggest forgetting it. Promptly.”
“Yes, you did. Probably more than you deserved to. But you’re alive... and in that case, the only thing you can do is to keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
