re_alignment | [Voice]

Entry tags:

✘ dead space | vandal

[Voice]

[A heavily modulated male voice crackles over the network. Each word is broken up by heavy breathing.]

Can you hear me? Is this working?

This is RIG number 438642. My name is-

This is Vandal.

Please. Someone who isn't a freak in a cloak, please respond.

I need to get back to the sprawl. I need- Oh fucking shit I can see the bone. God damn it stop bleeding.

Please help. I need to get back to Titan Station. I'm. Hurt. Badly. Bleeding.

Please.

[Click.]

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Well I guess that beats out "Vandal" as far as names go...

I'm-

Wait what?

Cybertron. A planet within the vicinity of the Alpha Centauri cluster. Home to an autonomous robotic race known as the Cybertronians.

[ And up vrooms an ambulance which then transforms into one of said Cybertronians. ]

And I see that you're a human? Is it acceptable for me to pick you up?

[ He's already scanning as much as he can, but it's hard to tell through the armour and the relatively obvious voice modulation. ]

Wait what the fuck is-

[And then there he is and holy shit.]

WHAT.

WHAT?! NO! FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!

[ Ratchet crouches down to get to 'eye level' with the human and starts speaking, slow and calm and clear. ]

This is Ratchet. I'm a Cybertronian, as I mentioned before -- a sentient robotic organism. I'm a medic, the cheif medical officer of my unit, and I believe I would be able to treat you, since I've helped treat humans in the past.

[ His eyes flick to their surroundings, then, uncertain. ]

I'd really rather take you back to my medbay, though. It's got all my supplies, it's cleaner and... well. It's a bit safer, too.

Edited 2012-07-20 05:23 (UTC)

...

H...

Haha.

Hahahahahaha... I'm dead. this is it. I'm dead or dying and this is all a dream. Okay, take me back, robot guy. Ratchet. Wow.

At least this is some great dying wish to have. Fucking childhood fantasies do come true when you bite it, huh?

[She flops over uselessly onto one side.]

[ Ratchet tilts his head. ]

You certainly aren't dead at this point, and I am not a fantasy.

[ He switches back to his alt-mode, pops open the driver's side door for the human to get in. ]

You're going to have to climb in yourself, though. I'm not so skilled at transforming that I can pick you up and guarantee you'll be in a hollow space when I've switched over.

[ Other mechs can do that, but Ratchet's not practiced in that sort of finesse. He's had other skills to work on. ]

[Drift rounds a corner, coming back into view. Oh frag, Ratchet. For Vandal's sake, Drift is incredibly relieved. For his own sake, having snuck out of his Medbay, not so much. ]

[ He had gone looking for help and help had snuck in while he was gone. So, in other words, typical Drift luck. ]

Uh. Hi, Ratchet. [Vandal, your new robot friend is maybe not so cool anymore?]

Drift- you're back...

[She was in the process of trying to peel herself up out of the junk and limp toward Ratchet's open door. It's not easy to get her footing here, so she's actually more like... dragging herself.]

Drift. Of all the slag-brained, idiotic--

[ Ratchet's engine roars, but he doesn't change back -- getting this human inside and back to the medbay is more important than beating dents into Drift's helm. ]

Ugh- Nevermind, I'll yell at you for having all the survival instinct of a toaster when we get back to the temple. In the meanwhile, make yourself useful and help get this one into me, so that I can get her proper care ASAP.

['slag-brained, idiotic'-- in other words: Drift. ]

[but he knows a Dire Threat when he hears one. It is probably going to be one epic yelling at. ]

He--she(?)--[whatever and frag this gender stuff anyway. ]--needed help. I couldn't just do nothing.

[So, stupidest possible option, obviously. ]

[He approaches Vandal, spreading his hands for a moment, trying to figure how to do this. ]

All right. Let me know if this hurts. Uh. Hurts more.

[Because obviously Vandal's in pain. ]

[And with that, he scoops up the metal figure, turning gingerly toward the ambulance's open door, secretly figuring Ratchet's going to whack him with a door once he lays the figure down. ]

Guess the voice filter doesn't work on robots...

[A brief pause, and she winces, curling in on herself as the gentle metal hands move her into the guy... vehicle...]

Hey. Go easy on him. Drift... he's.

S'a good guy... robot... car...

[So she's a little loopy. But she doesn't want to see her new buddies bar at each other.]

[ Ratchet was, in fact, planning on smacking Drift in the face with a door, but he also doesn't want to agitate his patient further. ]

Next time, you could comm someone else like, say, me? And we'll get to it.

You can trust other people to do things for you, you know.

[ And perhaps the reproach will sink in better than physical trauma. Who knows? Ratchet's got a patient to tend to, anyway. ]

Right, so I still don't know your name, human, but I'm going to start moving now. Buckle up if you can, but if not, we'll manage.

[Drift suspects as much, but thankfully, he does have a swordsmech's reflexes, so he ducks back, just in case. ]

You were busy. [Excuse #1, and its best friend, Excuse #2. ]

Besides. Someone shows up injured, maybe they're in danger.

[The kind of danger Drift is good at. ]

I. Uh. They shouldn't have to.

That's Vandal. Vandal killed a reactor. [Be impressed!]

You want me to go ahead of you?

[Oh Drift. You're too precious for words. Once she's inside it's all she can do to go limp and simply bleed all over Ratchet's upholstery.]

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