[The link clicks on but there's no video. Just a rough clearing of someone's vocalizer. Soft and quiet, with a professional air about it.]
This is Ratchet. Checking in.
[A small pause.]
I've been busy as of late, so I apologize if I had worried anyone. I hope everyone is doing well.
[His voice sounds tired, spent almost, but a quiet sigh escapes his vents.]
For those of you who are new, I'm one of the medics here in Haven. I have a little knowledge on human medicine, but specialize in Cybertronian and robotics medical needs.
I'm returning to Solus' temple. So if you need me, I'll be passing by there in about a half hour.
[The video flickers on and Ratchet appears on screen. In his hands were, well, a pair of hands. They were of a deep blue hue as well as yellow accents. But yes, just a pair of hands. The old bot looks tired, exhausted from all this.]
Been busy these past few weeks. If anyone needs any assistance with these effects from these strange energon deposits, please come by the Solarian medbay. I will see what I can do. I, myself, was affected by Red Energon, but, I believe my effects are wearing off by now.
[He soon lifts one of those hands up.]
Sentinel, your hands are ready. Whenever you have time, please come by.
[PRIVATE TO PERCEPTOR]
If you could come by sometime today, there's something I'd like to show you.
[Ratchet was known to be a hermit, but with this energon nonsense, Ratchet had stayed indoors. It was about time he actually got out and about. Transforming into his alternate form, he raced down out of the Solarian Temple, and into the vast land of Haven.
It was nice to get out. To have a nice drive. Simple, and nothing strenuous.]
[Guess what everybody.
You will be greeted by the sounds of a snoring old bot. The feed pans out to show Ratchet, slumped over his desk. Head in his arms. He looks to be in Percy's lab, to those of who are familiar with it. The bot looks rather exhausted. But suddenly there's a loud beeping noise, a timer going off.
Ratchet's body sits up automatically with a shrill sound, which lasts a good moment or two before his hand scrambles to turn off the timer. His surprised expression soon deflates and he stares ahead of himsf at the green vials at his desk.
To those who are familiar with that color? You will notice that it's synthetic energon.
Slowly he lies his head back down on the desk, muttering.]
I'll put a tiger in his... tanknnn...
[Looks like he's falling back into stasis.]
[The feed flickers to life and Ratchet peers into the communicator he has, tinkering with it. At least it's working... somewhat. He looks like he has woken up in the temple of Solian Temple.]
Blasted thing. My own communications aren’t working. It must be scattered or something. [The video flickers and Ratchet smacks it a few more times, to make it focus again, grumbling under his breath as he looks around.]
Ultra Magnus, Bumble Bee, if anyone can hear this, I require assistance. I don’t know if you can triangulate my transmission and find my exact location or not, but-- Oh, what am I saying?
[He rubs at his face, his mind raking for ideas.]
That bot said this is Cybertron but... it's not one I'm familiar with. [He pauses with a heavy sigh passing through his vents.]
For all I know, I could be just talking to myself with this thing.
[ There's just a bunch of static on the line for a long while, and it wouldn't be very interesting to most unless you recognized the sender ID as a familiar one. After a few minutes of noise, a few words finally make it through. ]
*kssh*-elp would be ... a-*kshhhh*-ciated. Again thi-*kshh* is Ra-*Kssshhhhhh*
[ And then the audio fades out into white noise for a few more seconds before cutting out completely. But perhaps you recognized the voice from the few seconds it came through? ]
[Have a vaguely uncomfortable looking Ratchet.]
I had a long-winded speech drafted, but then I realized that no one wants to listen to me ramble on and I'm not a mech of many words anyway. [Shrug]
First of all: I know that after the incident with the pages, some of you are feeling unsafe around me, and for good reason. Given my training, events like that absolutely cannot be allowed to re-occur. [He shuffles awkwardly, still feeling guilty about that.] Since there is no way of guaranteeing that I won't be similarly affected by some other event in the future, I've installed an incapacitator and given the triggers to two other individuals here on Cybertron. So if something happens in the future, they'll be able to ...take me out. I hope that provides some measure of comfort.
[Now that the awkward part's over, he seems to relax a bit, even smiling as he moves to his next point.]
Second: my superior officer isn't around to accept my letter of resignation, so an open post on the network will have to do. Given continued peace between members of the Autobot and Decepticon factions here, and the number of other skilled professionals on the planet, I am resigning from my position as a medic.
[He pauses for a second, then, having nothing more to say, shrugs and shuts off the feed.]( Text: Locked to Noisy Boy )
[What has two thumbs, two brand-new spankin’ wings and thought a flight test without training was a good idea?
But wait, let’s rewind. You know those little winglets Wheeljack had that couldn’t amount to half a sheet of metal? NO MORE. They are now large and in charge, completely capable of flight. The wheels on the bot’s legs and shoulders are now gone, replaced by pauldrons and is given a more streamlined look, but for the most part, the Wrecker stays the same. Did we mention the wings?
The Link opens up to a close-view of the Wrecker’s face, lip contorted into a thoughtful pout as he taps it.]
Is this thing on?
Of course it is! Are you sure you want to do this without supervision?
[Wheeljack only gives a nod, immediately backing up to show his new form, standing outside what looks to be Solus Prime’s temple. His wrists wiggle slightly, as if stretching them as he seems to be talking to the cameraman.]
I gotta learn somehow. Best way is to dive right into it. Can they see me?
Uh...yes. I believe so.
[He gives a little open gesture, open palm to his wings.]
Alright, got some news for you all. Bots from my world? Can’t really take flight like some of you guys can. Well that all ends today! Not sure how, but I got myself some nice, new feathers. So what better way to use them than what they were given for? Flight.
I have a bad feeling about this...
[There’s only a shrug from the Wrecker as he readies his position, rolling his shoulders. He had a feeling on how the transformation would work, so he’s feeling pretty confident on it. His feet brace themselves against the ground, and his his posture goes to that of someone ready to jump up into the air.]
‘Kay. First lift off. Three...two.....
[He springs up, doing a twirl in the air as metal slides over metal, transforming into quite the handsome jet, going up into the sky....
and U-turning right into Solus Prime’s temple.
The jet immediately changes back as he crashes to the ground, groaning. That...could have gone better.]
[The camera goes all jittery as Ratchet runs over, looking to see the damages.]
[Raf comes on the video, looking somewhat worse for the wear - but only in that he's been busy, and he shows it. he's a little scruffy, a little dirty, but looks incredibly pleased with himself as he waves.]
Hey guys! For the last little bit, I've been working on a project, and I've just now got it to where I think I can show it off-
[-and he moves his Device to what looks like...a small garden of sorts. we're talking only a few feet square, but there's soil in there, there's what looks like UV lamps, and what could be a water pump?
more to the point. there's things /growing/ in it. green things. Ratchet's nearby, working some of the machinery, before pausing in confusion as Raf continues]
I was getting kind of tired of living off canned beans and everything, so I figured if we could get this on a bigger scale, we could have more food for people like me, Miko, Korra...and everyone else!
...Raf, where did you find this particular component?
Huh? [Raf turns, taking a moment to spot what Ratchet's pointing at] The pump? It was in the box I brought the other day, remember?
[and this is Ratchet looking somewhere between disturbed and...perplexed]
Ah...I think we need to talk.
[after a moment of confusion from Raf...he then cuts the feed]
[ Have a tired-looking Ratchet, who is looking satisfied with himself for once, rather than grumpy. ]
For those of you who were worried, the surgery on Gunmax is complete, and I think it's taken quite well. He's conscious and unhooked from the generator, so if you'd like to visit, you're welcome to.
And my thanks to First Aid for his assistance. He's quite a competent mech.
[ Smiling, he tips a two-fingered salute off his chevron at the video, then cuts the feed. ]
[[ ooc: Gunmax will probably be responding to some of these threads, since he's up and at 'em, so be prepared *g* ]]
[[ EDIT: Added a ref to First Aid's assistance now that it's been confirmed >>; ]]
[ Ratchet looks worn and a bit beaten about when he makes his call on the Link. He'd been caught by one of the Sharkticons before escaping back to the temple, and there's still smudges of energon glinting in the crevices of his helm and chevron that he missed when wiping his face off. Still, there's a spark in his eyes -- he may not be at the front of the fighting, but he's certainly not out of action. ]
Given this absolutely ridiculous influx of creatures, I'm going to remind you all that I'm a medic and that I know what I'm doing. If you get into a scrap, don't waste time being a hero and limping around with your innards hanging out -- come here and I'll fix you.
[ His eyes narrow. ]
But don't be an idiot either. If I find out that any of you have blown yourself up because you used too many grenades, I'm going to come after you and weld your hands to your skull.
[ The glare he's directing at the comm could kill a mech at twenty paces. ]
Wheeljack, this means you.
[[ ooc: going to be slow in responding, but I thought I'd post this up before I became even later than I already am. ]]
[ After being informed by Drift that biological warfare is still a Thing in at least one of the dimensions represented here, Ratchet's decided to play things safe in terms of infection control. This is why you're being treated to a voice-post, featuring the gruff voice of our favourite Autobot medic right now. ]
Right. Well. I don't care what kind of grudges you've got, but whether you're Autobot, Decepticon or something else, things like illness and contagious disease are an issue here, especially given our ... questionable resources. So, since there seems to be a sizable population of Cybertronians around, I'd request that any and all of you come find me if you're in need of medical attention. I can't promise to fix anything that ails you, but I can at least scan you and tell you what I'd need to fix things.
And I can promise that the longer you wait on finding me for medical attention, the more annoyed I will be that you waited. Keep that in mind if you're on the fence about things.
[ Yep. That was quite obviously a threat. Ratchet's a doctor, not a nursemaid. ]