My name is Ratchet. Autobot CMO.
To all surviving Autobots who hear this message, I ask of you to keep away from this corner of the galaxy, from this planet. The war was lost. Other planets exist where you can seek refuge. All I ask is that you do not consider this one.
Safe journeys.
((Independent AU TFP Ratchet RP blog.
+ Starting point of AU is set between Crossfire and Grill, then a couple of years jump from there.
+ Please do not assume you are at his location.
Ratchet writes, he rarely opens up a direct communication link. Writing will be shown with ::these::.
+ Please read information, especially on blocked list since that's completely IC.
Tracks tags 'wartornmedic' and 'war torn medic'. Not 'war-torn-medic'.
M!A-able))
:: Hypothetically speaking, you would need to clamp the lines and clean the area so you can see if the ends are in a condition where the line can be simply welded together, or if they are torn and would need patching or removal of the damaged areas. ::
I’ve been busy, which probably isn’t surprising. I do feel sorry about not being online for... god, 9 months? but university. So yeah, I’m not done with it either but I’m on break. And I’ve wanted to come back here for a while.
I won’t promise it’s for good, because.. well, because I can’t promise that. But I’ll try to be here.
Not the harshest response she’s ever gotten, but it definitely gave her pause. It might have been a bit too bold of her to say that like he had been asking for a hand out. Hopefully that wouldn’t taint his first impression of her. Upsetting the clientele was never a good thing.
«Okay then. My comm-line is always open, should you find something and-or need something from me.»
«Have a pleasant cycle, Ratchet.»