if you pray to god for rain, don't you complain about the lightning

[asafepairofhands]

Who: Ratchet and YOU and also whoever else wants to set up threads in here
What: Ratchet's limping around on crutches, feel free to put yourself in the line of fire
Where: Red Alert's clinic
When: A little while after Drift is conscious
Warnings: YELLING? yelling probably


Well, it had been a few days and nobody had nearly died again so Ratchet starts to let himself relax a little.

Not much, mind--Drift and Nautica are still bedridden, if not critical, and there are people in and out all the time. This is completely ignoring the fact that Pharma and Tarn are wandering around out there somewhere, probably terrorizing the general populace or maiming things or doing whatever else psychotic killers do in their clearly abundant free time. Ratchet has no such luxury, and he works, maintaining the patients he already has on top of trying to handle anyone else who comes in the door. He's just not necessarily pleasant about it.

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet hears that and shift,s looking up from his work to stare a little.

He doesn't keep her waiting long, though. "Permission... granted?" he hazards, sounding bemused. "Can I help you?"

[system_dp]

Oh good, she enters completely unaware of Ratchet's bemusement. In fact she seems more interested in the fact this is a building made for beings that are taller then 6-ish feet, which includes Miria. Too tall to be human, and just minibot-ish sized.

... Oh yeah, asked if she can be helped. She holds out her arm with the hand shaped dent.

"This Unit has be advised to see a mec... medic in regards to this minor injury."

[stubbornandfrustrating]

Ratchet watches her, his optics narrowing slowly.

"Sure, c'mere, I can pop that for you," he says, settling into his crutches and holding out a hand. "Does 'this unit' happen to have a name?"

[system_dp]

She'll just thrust her arm at his hand then, as she moves closer, she's not very good at social things yet Ratchet so don't mind the bluntness of her motions.

"This Unit is referred to as Miria," she replies, idly sizing Ratchet up. "You are injured, should you not be getting repaired instead? ... Also This Unit has built in weaponry within the damaged area."

Yeah, she should mention that since she's got a lot of weaponry. Miria may not know Ratchet but she certainly wouldn't want to injure the medic more.

[asafepairofhands]

"I'm not injured," Ratchet says mildly. "I'm missing a leg. It doesn't hurt." He scans her arm briefly and can't help venting a low whistling noise.

"You weren't kidding about weaponry. Let me see..." He extends an attachment from his wrist and seats it against the dented plaint before pulling carefully to unbuckle it.

"There. Won't be good as new, but it'll keep it from interfering with your internals, at least," he says, nodding. "Anything else wrong?"

[system_dp]

"This Unit believes that loss of a limb is still considered an injury." Miria states plainly, sorry Ratchet that's not going to fly with her. And as he's unbuckling the plating on her arm she's going to also state.

"It must also lower your efficiency, lacking a limb."

Not that she would know about that. And don't mind her slight silence before a slow blink at the question of anything else wrong while she flexes her fingers.

"Oh yes. The Cybertronian Pipes wishes this Unit to see if it's systems are compatible with the subtance called 'Energon'. Pipes showed great distress at this Unit stating it would be fine in regards to fuel."