Hoping that Hasbro releases a full dvd set (or whatever form of physical media they have by then) of Transformers: Rescue Bots within the next decade so that I can show it to my potential future kids someday.
Okay so I've watched all of Earthspark (read: skipped basically all of season 3 after the first episode litterally being a divorce WHYY)
I have NOT watched season 4 yet, but i've been stalking the Breakbee tag (Breakbee my beloved) and I don't know whether I should be woried or happy.
I am getting mixed signals and im trying to avoid spoilers before I watch, but im scared for my yaoi. Is it good? Is it worth watching? Will Breakbee get back together?
I swear to god if one of them dies or breakdown messes up the relationship more I WILL consider war crimes
Okay, this little chapter is pretty short. I made it really quickly and didn’t really review it that much so I’ll probably go back and make some edits later.
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@thebrokenmechanicalpencil I hope you know that when you had made the comment in that one repost about Dropmix and his morals being dodgy I cackled like a madman. This unfortunately doesn’t include the explanation for the music tho.
Dropmix reflects.
WARNINGS!: I actually don’t think there are any in this. Look at me go.
Dropmix silently sat in the medical bay—alone. It wasn’t that he minded the solitude; in fact, it gave him a chance to think, reflect, and brace himself for the inevitable storm that would follow this rare moment of quiet. His music filled the space, soft and soothing, a comforting backdrop to what could have been a lonely silence. Being the only medical officer on this quaint base definitely had its perks, but he would have to be stupid to not admit how isolating it was.
There had been other medical staff before, but most had been reassigned to a medical station located further away. That’s where Dropmix sent most of his serious cases after stabilizing them, which meant his medbay often stayed empty of long-term patients. This front of the war hadn’t been seeing a lot of action anyway. Usually the bots stationed here had to travel some distance before they got involved in any important battles. Even then, the skirmishes were small and the autobots usually came out victorious.
It may have gotten a bit lonely every once and awhile. Dropmix needed to spend most of his time in the bay so he could be ready just in case something happened. Unfortunately, most mechs avoided it unless they needed something from him. He couldn’t really blame them, usually it was busy in a place like this.
Under normal circumstances medical officers would scold mechs that loitered around the medbay when they didn't need anything. Medical models were very particular about who was in their care. It was just part of their nature. Just like how they were perfectly alright with being isolated like this. Most of the ones he’d met enjoyed the silence of an empty medbay. It didn’t matter that people only came to them with their issues to solve.
Really, Dropmix couldn’t blame the other bots on base for treating him like this.
For all they knew he was just another medical officer, they didn’t know any better than to treat him like he was a medical model. He had put a lot of effort into appearing like one after all, unfortunately he would never be able to mimic their natural programming. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been transferred to the medical station despite his greater experience and qualifications compared to some of the relocated nurses. He wasn’t built for medical work in the same way they were.
The red and black mech huffed to himself, staring down at the datapad currently in his hand. The lights were dimmed slightly, the quiet of the base attesting to the hour. He should have been resting like every other mech not currently on the nightshift, instead he had been re-reading the same report over and over again. The report was nowhere near professional, that's what he was meant to do, take the information given and submit it as an official medical report.
Bluerunner: deceased
It was a pity, Bluerunner had been a good mech—quick with a witty comeback, easygoing, and always ready for a joke. He’d been a welcome presence on base. Bluerunner was an unfortunate loss, he would be missed. But that wasn’t what was bothering Dropmix. No, it was the other mech mentioned in the report that had him reading it over and over again like a broken record.
Sunrazor
Dropmix would have been perfectly content never hearing that name again. He wasn’t supposed to, he had put all of that behind him. Dropmix had moved on. It was foolish of himself to think he would have been able to outrun the past like that. That the mistakes he had made wouldn’t come back and haunt him. That he wouldn’t be punished for what he had done.
He set the datapad down on the desk, deciding to focus on the music selection rather than the darker thoughts churning throughout his head. He mindlessly scrolled through songs on his hud, he would need to look into getting some more soon, his library was far from small but it could use some more diversity. Dropmix selected a different playlist, an old favorite.
The first battle had been devastating, the sheer amount of bots lost had been a brutal reminder of the consequences of war. The presence of Sunrazor only promised more loss and pain. Dropmix would need to request for some aid, hopefully it wouldn’t be ignored like his other attempts. He usually wasn’t overwhelmed with injured mechs, there was no need to send more staff to help him when they were needed elsewhere.
Sunrazor would change that quickly. It was only a matter of time.
The black and red mech turned his attention to his computer, swiftly inserting a small data chip into a port and typing in the password to unlock it. He needed to look through some of his older personal files for what he wanted to find. Dropmix could help stop her, he may be the only autobot that had the knowledge of how to hit her where it hurt.
For any other medic it would have been easy to locate her files. For the majority of autobot medical staff when filtering for files including “extreme augmentation” nothing would come up. Even when it came to Decepticon medical staff, most would have a page of empty results.
Dropmix had well over a hundred different files pop up.
None of which were titled with the patient's actual name—rather the serial number given to them. With the help of a few more keywords the list was narrowed down and he was able to open the file. Sunrazor had been a patient he would never forget, she was the first success, which was a surprise. He had missed her first augmentation surgery due to his hand being damaged. When he was finally able to be brought in he had to undo what the fill-in had done.
Like the other times a medical model was brought in they had attempted to sabotage the patient. Technically, it was medical malpractice, but so was what they were doing so he couldn’t really blame them for it. They saw it as a mercy to the subject. They weren’t wrong. Death would have been more merciful than the fate that awaited them.
Usually they approached Dropmix afterwards and asked how he could do something like that to a mech and still sleep at night. How a medical model, who was built to prioritize life and heal, could do this more than once, be involved in such a project. Dropmix never had an answer for them. Circuitbreaker had defected to the autobots after that.
The first mistake they made was always assuming that he was a medical model like them. That his central function was to heal. Dropmix didn’t feel like he was rebelling against his core directive when he tore someone apart only to rebuild them as some twisted version of themselves. Torrent had always liked that about him.
