#medicofemittedparticles

[medicofemittedparticles]

doodled from the livestream

[medicofemittedparticles]

[medicofemittedparticles]

I ruined the helm. oops

[medicofemittedparticles]

He had been underground for months, burred beneath the sands within the old former decpticon ship. He was taking in the knowledge of the files on board. mostly old medicine and some sort of logs of history.

He had grown well board of the former extinguished crews old diary's and logs. they made him nervous and uncomfortable. He scarcely liked to look at their old security camera footage. Honestly that was a task he had avoided entirely.  He didn't want to revist dead memories.

Speaking of memories. Oh. that's right. Every now and then the old autobots he spent some time with here on earth would enter his mind. What were their names? Beatbox Soundtrack.. kataka..and most notably, Remix.

He shook his head looking up from a medical data file. Sometimes he wondered why he even tried to trust the autobots. But that was a mistake that would not happen again. Things were different no. He had Sarrah watching over him, taking care of him. In exchange for the simple accident of waking him up him from the sands. 

[medicofemittedparticles]

[medicofemittedparticles]

Underground

Large walls cascaded up, up and higher then he dared to shine a light. Sarrah easily walked inside at his full height and he fit comfortably, so even though the seeker was underground and caged, he did not feel trapped. He was rather comfortable in here

As to why he was being lead down here, he did not know. His peds clicked softly on old stone set in place by cybertronians so many unimaginable cycles ago. . Long before his time. Yeah. Sarrah--and this lace was long before him, and before the first cybertronian declared themselves prime--possibly. He was being a little dramatic. just a little

He could hardly believe what he had done--did he really do it? He couldnt be sure. He rememberd being held in the larger mechs hand, and circualted energon pouring from a digit driping onto him and a order to drink to refuel.

Perhaps the old cybertronian systems were more suitable for that--his wasn't, or maybe it was the fact that he never had reduced himself to such survival tactics and it made him queezy. Ether way he felt an uncomfortable churn in his tank. Old, unfiltered used energon the thought made his tank want to purge but he pushed it from his mind and carried on ahead.

[medicofemittedparticles]

[medicofemittedparticles]

Lol you look kind of Like Knockout

Knockout? Heh. That ‘oh so great’ medic only wishes he had a finish as brilliant as mine.