robothell | (no subject)

Who: Tarn, Pharma, and Spinister
Where: Decepticon home base
When: Immediately after the scrum with Megatron
What: Spinister and Pharma have to deal with Tarn bleeding on everything
Warnings: probably robogore and yelling

Tarn is in bad shape. His vision flickers uselessly in a precursor to shut down by the time Megatron manages to haul him in front of the makeshift Decepticon stronghold. He, begrudgingly, had pinged Pharma with the coordinates and a command to be ready to receive him shortly after they began their trek back to the base.

As is stands now he is leaned up against the side of the crumbling building, hand clamped over his bleeding shoulder. Tarn takes a quick mental inventory of the injuries that he has sustained. Other than badly dented plating and broken biolights on his chassis, his shoulder is sparking and the joint barely functional, his knee is in the same condition, there is a bare and torn portion of his forearm where his fusion cannon once resided, and his face is wounded and dripping energon beneath his mask.

While he would prefer to lick his wounds in private it has become readily apparent that his injuries require some serious repairs.

“Frag.” Tarn mutters, energon dripping from beneath his mask on to his chest. He comms Spinister to notify him that he is outside and in need of assistance. Introducing Pharma to the twitchy scientist should be fun.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tarn stares at Spinister, still not quite trusting him. If they decide to kill him when he's out, who's around to stop them? Or to even care? Still, he supposes, if they really wanted to kill him they would be doing it right now when he's clearly not able to fight back. It wouldn't matter if he was unconscious or not.

And, knowing Pharma, he would want to do it when Tarn was coherent enough to know who did the deed. And there would be no pain dampener chip.

Slowly, Tarn relaxes into the table.

"I'm trusting...you."

His optics go black and his body goes completely limp.

Pharma sighs as Tarn drifts off, moving back to drop off a tool that isn't needed anymore. "Finally. Thought he'd never shut up." He moves back to hover over Tarn for a moment, just to make sure there isn't anything else that needs immediate attending to. "I hate when they're awake. It's too distracting."

Well, that was very dramatic, Spin thinks as he watches Tarn finally slip into stasis.

To Pharma, he says, "You get used to it. Lots of Decepticons don't like going under much." Now that the piston was out, there was a huge hole in the coolant tank. Fortunately, most of the fluids were below the draining line of the hole, so he's quickly patching it up with a bit of cannibalized metal.

"So, uh, the energon transfusion?" the heli inquires, somewhat distracted with welding. "Or should I prep it?"

"No no, allow me." Right, the transfusion. He waves his hand dismissively and starts picking up some more cubes, carefully bringing them over and making sure they're in a stable position. "Will you need all of them? I'll bring them all over just in case, anyway."

Gotta love when you answer your own questions. Didn't even wait for Spinister's input, either, before he goes to grab more.

"Okay," Spin says, just happy to have someone with actual experience helping him for the time being. He pops a datapad out of one of the boxes and plugs it into Tarn's hip port, next to the dampener chip. He reads over the readouts before magnetizing it to the side of the operating table.

"We basically need all of it. Let me double check for leaks again. At least his temperature readouts are leveling out now that he's in stasis."

That's what he figured, so he makes one more pass to go grab the rest of the energon and set it down in Spinister's reach. "Certainly makes for a better outlook for him, anyway," he adds as he goes to grab more rags just in case there are any other leaks or messes in the near future."

"Get a bucket for the rags too." Spinister starts working through all the little wires they needed to replace. The repairs were going to take days between all the repair work and scavenging metal for replacements and fabrications. "We'll need to re-refine the energon from that stuff for later"

Pharma makes an expression of disgust at that, but goes to scavenge around for a bucket again. He plops it down next to Spinister before turning to the other side of Tarn and starting to work on the more easily fixed problems opposite of Spinister. "Running short, I take it?"

"The forge I got up and running isn't really efficient yet, so drinkable stuff is a bit tight," Spin answers with a shrug. "Buuuut at least we've got energon."

Which was miles better off than he had been with the Scavengers. They had a relatively decent and working on-ship refinery, but never any energon to put in the thing.

Pharma's lip curls slightly. A lack of drinkable energon? Just what he didn't need... but the forge sounds interesting. "I suppose it is better than nothing. Was the forge already here?"

"Nope! Had to make it from scratch! It also explodes sometimes and then I have to rebuild it from scratch again. Refining energon is so much easier when you've actually got the sensors to measure everything out for you, but haven't got a chance to make or find stuff to make them right now." Refining energon had always been more of a Misfire thing at any rate.

"I assume you're working alone for the most part, then?" Because frankly, it seems like this would be done in a much less explode-y way if Spinister had some form of help. He pauses for a moment as he looks back down on their unconscious patient. "Well, aside from having Tarn, here."

"Tarn's shtick is his voice, not his hands, just so you know," Spinister grumbles, easing a crushed motor out of Tarn's internals and looking it over with an air of displeasure. "So, yeah, alone and not in my area of expertise. Sixshot gets the supplies, but he's not got that good an optic for useful scrap."

"Trust me, I'm well aware," Pharma says coolly, eyeing the motor in Spinister's hands. That must have hurt. "Sixshot? That sounds familiar - wasn't he a Phase Sixer?"

Go figure.

"Yep! Big green and white fellow with the six forms. He's pretty okay. I think he's, like, super depressed though." Setting the motor aside, he goes to work, straightening out Tarn's internals so that he take everything apart easier. "And he keeps tracking dirt into the building after I've swept everything down, which is super annoying."

Six forms? Pharma huffs quietly, going to dig in to help (and maybe passive-aggressively nudge something Spinister's already adjusted to what he considers 'straight'). "That's five forms too many."

*Yeah, well, I'm not in High Command, so Primus knows what's up with the six modes thing." Fortunately for Pharma, Spinister doesn't notice the adjustment yet, caught up in pulling a out another warped piston. "The engineering team that worked on him were stupidly bleeding smug about him too. Didn't shut up for weeks after his first deployment.*

That only serves to justify the adjustment to himself, so he reaches in to adjust other components to help get the piston out without too much issue. "There's nothing quite like bragging about the newest destructive creations you whip up, is there?"

"At least we put out things we can brag about and not fresh paints who don't last a minute in a fight." Spinister pauses to curse and stuff a few more rags into the pool of coolant and energon gathering in Tarn's innards from a new leak.

"Seriously, what's up with that? I've sniped whole platoons of mechs who barely even knew where to point a gun and I know we Decepticons have got some youngster fellows around who didn't know heads from tailfins. But, like, it's usually one or two per platoon."

Pharma stews a little in that. Really, Spin? They're having this conversation right now? Spinister seems to have the surprise leak covered, so Pharma allows a moment of inaction, crossing his arms.

"Either way, they all die the same."

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Sorry for the lateness!

No worries!

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