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

[warcorrespondent]

The ideological and cultural differences between Decepticon and Autobot society was vast and deep. Aftermath had been struggling for years to put things into words, trying to explain, trying to understand it himself.

It wasn't the sort of thing that could easily be discussed with time constraints however, and he doesn't try to push the subject. He'd already taken up a lot of Ratchet's free time.

"That'll be more than fine, thank you," the old truck nods, flipping the microphone away and shutting off the recording software.

"Before I leave however, I've found some potential supplies while I was out and about. Not sure if it's anything too useful, but..." Sliding a medium sized crate out of his inventory, he looks at Ratchet expectantly. "Would you like me to leave it here for you?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet's optics widen at the box, peering into it before something close to an actual smile flashes over his face, brief and bright.

"This is great, thanks." He vents a soft half-laugh. "Keep bringing stuff like this and you can come in and ask all the questions you want."

[warcorrespondent]

"Well," Aftermath chuffs, pleasantly surprised at the reaction. "I'll keep my visor peeled for anything useful then."

Especially if he gets to be regaled with more tales of Ratchet kicking over-powered sadists in the groin area.