tagging this log constitutes consent to be hugged by a small purple autobot

[quantumechanic]

Who: Nautica and whoever is not going to start shit
Where: the clinic
When: after she gets hurled into a wall (thx tfp megatron) and before she's off the robot drugs
What: drugged-up Nautica is even friendlier than regular Nautica
Warnings: shameless fluff?

A docile patient, particularly in comparison to the other people around here likely to end up in the clinic, Nautica was curled up on her side in a berth, uncomplaining despite the fresh welds spidering silver across her back and impeller housings. The circuit dampers keeping those welds from bothering her might have been slightly miscalibrated--she was a small mech, and didn't have a tolerance built up from a lifetime of hospital stays over the course of an unending war. It was hardly the medics' fault they'd erred on the high side, especially considering the scavenged supplies they had to work with.

It did mean, however, that she was feeling no pain, either literally or in the colloquial sense, and for the moment was quite involved in watching her fingers as she repeatedly flexed them into claws or drummed them somewhat less than rhythmically on the edge of the slab. Hands were so complicated.

Comments

[briefcase]

That's fine enough Nautica didn't do any complaining. Brainstorm did the complaining for her, while simultaneously trying to pretend that he didn't care that she was hurt. Purely professional interest, you see-- it was hard to find another quantum mechanic around here.

Still, that didn't keep him from hovering nearby, clutching his briefcase as he watches her from across the medibay, occasionally harassing the medics to check her energon intake and questioning the quality of her repairs. Nautica was acting... funny. But he's no medic, so he wasn't sure why. He hated that.

Eventually, he stops hovering around like some giant robot vulture and leaves for a while, but when he comes back his arms are full of datapads, some in which fall from his arms before he can dump them on the berth with her. He squints at her, looking at her hands.

"Yes, they're hands. What are you doing?"

[gimmicky]

After hearing the news, Trailbreaker had kept tabs on the medical bay, often asking First Aid how she was doing during her recovery. He wouldn't stay long, Brainstorm often frequented the berth and any potential awkward should probably be avoided. But this was one time that he felt he could stop by.

And he does. The frown fixated on his face slightly aleviates when he sees Nautica actually awake, although consciousness wasn't always a good thing. Still, take your blessings as they're given, and Trailbreaker was doing just that.

Walking over to the bed, he watches her as she seems fixated on her hands, giving a soft sigh as he looks at his own.

"Don't worry, there's supposed to be ten. I'm sure of it."

A soft grin, saying that with as much optimism as he can muster. Always the cheerleader, aren't you.

[planate]

They may have only spoken once, but it was enough for Pipes to tell Nautica was Good People. People he immediately wanted to visit after hearing what had happened through the pipeline (ha). He was upset, of course, but ultimately, Nautica had survived and that was the important thing.

Luckily, he'd chosen a day to visit Nautica where the medibay was relatively empty and she was awake. Double luck! Pipes waves at her cautiously.

[rodders]

Rodimus hasn't actually left the clinic for any significant length of time after he returned from watching Megatron and Tarn beat the shit out of each other - he's stayed close to Drift's side for most of it, sometimes literally when Ratchet couldn't shoo him out of the clinic at night. But he does, occasionally, tear himself away from the other bot to swing over to where Nautica is still recovering.

He does kind of squint at whatever she's doing with her hand, because what. "You should find someone other than Ratchet to take a look at it. He looks like he's going to explode. That or strangle the next injured mech who walks in here." Assuming something in her hand is broken, obviously.

[luckyfaceplate]

Optimus had only just gotten back, and his original intent was to see Ratchet. With...things the way they were (everyone was pretty scattered, and considering what the planet had told him, that was worrying), he trusted Ratchet to be the most honest with him on what exactly went on. Lo and behold, when he walks in, he sees...quite a number of people in the medical bay. Okay...that certainly wasn't a good sign.

"You've been busy." Whether or not that was to the patients themselves or Ratchet was unclear. And probably for the best. His eyes scan, seeing familiar and relatively new faces....before resting on Nautica.

He knew that Nautica's forte wasn't exactly fighting, so he can assume that's how the injury happened. Not exactly what he wanted for an ambassador of Caminus, that's for sure. He strides over, keeping himself as professional as possible as he looks at her lying on the bed, staring at her fingers.

...Okay. Where does he go from here.

"It seems you hit some bad luck. Or rather, bad luck hit you."

SMALL TALK. HE'S TRYING.

[towardspeace]

Megatron looks surprised, at first, to see her here, and then stern – not angry per se, but it's the look of someone who anticipates having to give someone a talking-to over what he's being presented with. He's still bearing the marks of his own run-in with Tarn, but the worst of it's been repaired by now; he just looks a little rough around the edges. No painkillers for him, though.

"Nautica." He looks down at her, frowning. "What happened?"

ONE MILLION YEARS LATER

[aminerproblem]

"Nautica?"

Oh, this was unfortunate. Megatron makes a mental note of mixing in a little less circuit damper in her liquid supply when these are finished processing through Nautica's system.

"I'm going to check your grafts, okay?" He wasn't entirely sure if she was attentive enough to understand, but it didn't hurt to let a patient be aware. He lowers himself to one knee, looking through the silvery lines on her impeller housings. He gently adjusts them, observing how the joints against her back flexed with the silver filling.

He glances back at Impactor,"You can get closer if you want."

To say he'd been elated to find his old friend would be a massive understatement. It was unfortunate that they were stuck in this city, but there were few other people he'd rather go through this situation with.

He was sure Impactor wouldn't be interested in the same work as he was, but if he could find some way for them to share the same workspace. Well, Megatron wouldn't be opposed.

FOR HER GOOD BUDDY TARN

[quantumechanic]

After a while, Nautica decided it was time to go find her wrench. She couldn't get any work done without it (the fact that she couldn't get any work done with it in her current state did not occur to her) and anyway, she liked having it around.

She reached up and turned off the monitors so they wouldn't start beeping when her life signs disappeared from the slab, disconnected her IV, pulled the needle out, and set it neatly on a tray next to her berth. Since she didn't want anyone to worry, she also left a datapad with a note. Unfortunately for the actual usefulness of said note, it read in its entirety "Be right back!" with a smiley face and a drawing of her wrench.

Responsibilities thus discharged, Nautica headed out into the city, rather more unsteadily than was reassuring, but she stayed vertical enough. Her navigational skills were suffering more than her motor control, however, and she managed to head in almost entirely the wrong direction. Eventually making her way to the least-safe location possible for someone wearing an Autobrand, she stuck her head into the door of the Decepticon stronghold where Tarn was nursing his wounds and his grievances.

"Hello? Anyone home?" She didn't wait for an answer before continuing into the building.