heavyweaponsbot | 21

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21 - Audio

So. Staff. If you will not tell us of the dangers here, make yourselves useful and answer me something else.

High grade energon. You have any around here?

[There's a pause, and then Ironhide clumsily seals the the rest. Kevas said he should try and... be friends.]

[Well. Here goes nothing.]

[SEALED TO: RATCHET]
You seen the lake yet?

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What's at the lake?

[ That should answer that question. ]

[... Oh right. The Sealing Problem. You know what, he's just... going to abandon this sealing business altogether then.]

... Show you, if you want.

Hn.

[ Someone is not fond of nature and would be content to be inside forever. ]

I'm sure there's some kind of enlightening reason. Let's go.

[And someone finds water... oddly calming.]

See you out there.

Yes, see you at the rendezvous point.

[ Then off he goes off he goes on foot. It'll take him a little bit to get there. There's a decent bit about he Keep he hasn't seen, really, even if he's aware of the whereabouts now. He just simply is a mech that would rather busy himself inside rather on the field. Always has been. ]

[By the time he gets there, Ironhide will already be waiting. He's just sort of standing there on the beach, looking at the lake -- since there's really nothing for him to sit on.]

[And... while he hasn't found anything in the way of intoxicating substances, he did snag a couple regular cubes out of the kitchen. They sit beside his feet, also, apparently, waiting.]

[ Let it be known, Ratchet hates nature. He especially hates it when everything is blooming and sporing everywhere and he's got a nice dusting of yellow on his shiny white plating by the time he gets to the lake. He grunts, wiping off smears of it, but pollen on cars is a stubborn thing.

He puts his hands on his hips, taking a moment to regard Ironhide, the lake, and the cubes. ]

Well?

[Pollen? What's that? Ironhide either doesn't notice the stuff, or he's long past caring about it.]

[He looks up at the other's approach, before crouching in a cacophony of complaining joints, and picking up the cubes. He holds one out.]

An apology.

[ Ratchet is an old bot himself. He knows stiff joints and all the havoc age plays on a mech quite personality. Even so, he can't help but wince slightly at all the noise. His fingers twitch. ]

Apology for what?

[ He takes the cube, but scrutinizes it for a moment. It's not like he thought Ironhide poisoned it or anything, but mainly he wasn't sure what he had done to deserve the 'nice spot, apology, and fuel' treatment. ]

[He rolls his shoulders -- something pops, but he either doesn't notice, or ignores it -- in a shrug.]

I should not have dropped all of... that on you. When you arrived.

[He feels bad about the Bad Ending Infodump he pulled. That, and Kevas urged him to try and be friends. Not that he's going to say as much.]

[ Ironhide isn't really reassuring him with all the noise his body is making. He's a medic, he can't help worrying over others, even if he barely knows them. ]

I'm an Autobot. [ He looks back to the cube. ] If I couldn't handle bad news, I would have ceased to function long ago.

[He doesn't seem to notice the noise, to be perfectly honest.]

I know. It... does not change much. Not to me. Dumped it all on you -- that was... probably wrong.

[ He might as well refuel. Primus knows that he rarely keeps his tanks filled. Still, Ratchet just stares at the cube in hand. ]

Yes, well.

[ He grunts. ]

Apology accepted. No sense in dwelling on it.

[He watches him out of the corner of his good optic.]

Then... we are all right?

[They can be friends? Or at least not... awkward.]

[ Ratchet quirks an optic ridge at Ironhide and then shakes his head. ]

Alright?

[ He makes a 'hurpmh' sound. ]

When's the last time you had any proper maintenance?

Yeah. Nothing is wrong. We can work together without incident.

[He shrugs, shaking his head. For lack of anything better to do, he just. Takes a long pull from the cube.]

... The Elegante. Long time ago.

Hn. Our numbers are too few to hold grudges over something so small.

[ He waves it off with a hand, then finally starts working on that cube. ]

That's way too long. I'm a medic. Give me something to do with my hands.

[ He emphasizes this with clutching the air with his free hand. ]

Hn. [And this is where they basically make the same sort of noise at each other, but never call attention to it.] Point. Still... wanted to be sure.

[Ironhide... goes very still. His hand tenses around the cube. His fingers dig in, slightly.]

[No one has worked on his frame but his Ratchet since the war began. No one. His hip had been repaired by another, to be sure, but he'd been human at the time.]

... Everything functions. Well enough.

[ This is the most skeptical and disappointed look that Ratchet can possibly give him, above if Ironhide had really done something damaging. ]

'Well enough'? You call this well enough?

[ He makes a pointed poke towards one of the scars in his plating. ]

[For a second, he just looks back at him, confused. What did he say? Did he screw up already?]

[The poke has him take a step back, engine growling.]

Do not... touch those. [He shakes his shoulders, and huffs.] Had most of them since before the war. I like them.

[Just maybe not the hole in the top layer of his chest armor.]

[ Well, he certainly thinks you're a fool at least, Ironhide. ]

By the AllSpark, a soldier with a doctor phobia.

[ He pinches the bit of armor in the middle of his face, shaking his helm as if fighting off a headache. ]

I might seem forgiving now, but end up on my table and you won't be given such nice treatment.

I do not have a phobia. I am... accustomed to one medic.

[And you aren't him.]

We will see.

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21 - Audio

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