Ratchet of Vaporex (
asafepairofhands) wrote in
thisavrou2016-09-19 07:59 pm
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[audio]
[Only the audio clicks on, and the voice coming through the MID is worn, thin with static and carefully controlled.]
This is Chief--this is Ratchet, giving notice that the portion of the inorganic clinic I was running is currently closed until further notice, as of... now, apparently somewhere around a year from when I last checked. I'll be resuming my duties as soon as--when it's possible for me to do so.
In the meantime, I'm referring my patients to the regular medbay or to Tony Stark, depending on the complexity of the engineering involved. If it's a serious emergency... I can't help you, but I'll try to consult via MID if absolutely necessary. I am not available to answer five hundred questions about why, so don't bother asking. I need to work. Kindly refrain from calling me unless you're actively leaking to death.
...Ratchet out.
[PRIVATE TO WHIRL]
I need to speak with you in person. I'm sending you my coordinates.
Please.
[Somebody's hands finally stopped working to the point where he actually has to quit using them all the time and attach new ones, and he is not having a good day. Feel free to harass him, but there's no guarantee he'll respond.]
This is Chief--this is Ratchet, giving notice that the portion of the inorganic clinic I was running is currently closed until further notice, as of... now, apparently somewhere around a year from when I last checked. I'll be resuming my duties as soon as--when it's possible for me to do so.
In the meantime, I'm referring my patients to the regular medbay or to Tony Stark, depending on the complexity of the engineering involved. If it's a serious emergency... I can't help you, but I'll try to consult via MID if absolutely necessary. I am not available to answer five hundred questions about why, so don't bother asking. I need to work. Kindly refrain from calling me unless you're actively leaking to death.
...Ratchet out.
[PRIVATE TO WHIRL]
I need to speak with you in person. I'm sending you my coordinates.
Please.
[Somebody's hands finally stopped working to the point where he actually has to quit using them all the time and attach new ones, and he is not having a good day. Feel free to harass him, but there's no guarantee he'll respond.]
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If I stop, I'm probably not going to finish so lets not. Kay.
[That is probably the closest admission Ratchet's getting to exactly how hard a time he's having, so he'd better take it.
And with that, Whirl gets back to unhooking the bolts. He's almost done with the one hand so that's something.]
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[Ratchet shudders as Whirl works the last of the pins holding his hand on his wrist free and he shifts back, his tanks rolling as he watches his hand, stationary on the table, slide away from his wrist, wires trailing. He swallows hard and shutters his optics, his mouth set in a thin line.]
Nearly half done.
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Whirl pauses once the first one is off, and actually stops for a moment to shake his helm before very carefully picking up the hand, and moving it on the other side of the box where Whirl can very clearly not see it thanks to his questionable peripheral vision. Unlike with the claw before, there is absolutely no use of it as a pointer.
He goes to speak, his vocalizer clicks instead, and he rolls his entire helm at himself before pinching his claw in the air. ]
Other arm. Gimmie.
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He is not about to admit that he is actually sort of grateful that Ratchet went and moved the stump away because it really shouldn't bother him. It really shouldn't. It shouldn't.
Once he's got the other hand disconnected he takes the same sort of care unhooking the wires from the hardware so they don't catch. If he's going to do this, he's going to do it right. That's really the only way he is able to keep going, because there's no point in leaving something undone. Then it will just bother him.
Whirl moves the other hand with the same sort of speed out of the way so he once again can't see it. +1 to problematic depth perception.]
Okay, so, I'm betting the answer is hooking multiple things together instead of clipping anything?
[Whirl attempts to sound fairly unconcerned and it's passable only because of the utter lack of expression.]
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Yeah. Yeah, just--
[He clenches his jaw so hard he can feel the helpless clicking of a gear trying to strip as he swallows hard against another swamping wave of disoriented nausea, curling in tighter. His optics flicker wildly before he shutters them and hunches over, the flat plate at the center of his chevron pressed to the top of the desk and a vicious, rattling shiver working slowly down his back.
[It's a long moment before he stills and he has no idea what sort of expression is on his face as he sits up but he shifts again, laying both his wrists back on the table and staring down at the bare, unpainted mechanisms in his forearms, the wires trailing limp and haphazard from the ends of his wrists.]
Yes. [His voice his horribly steady.] I'll tell you which leads go where. Connect them back up first before you lock them into place--it'll give you more room to work and I can test before everything's settled back where it should be.
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He's not exactly sure what he would say and about 90% sure that whatever it was would make things worse and despite what most people think he doesn't always want to be the biggest aft in the room.
Only most of the time.
Whirl waits through Ratchet's moment, tapping his claws on the desk not out of any need to speed him up but more out of the need to keep moving so he doesn't lock up. This, however, does not stop him from looking around a little as if Rung or Tailgate or someone will magically appear to be more useful, because this is very much not his forte. He vents in a very long steady stream when Ratchet finally sits up, and immediately the tapping becomes clacking with the free claw as he goes to pick up one of the ones off the table. He's able to arrange it well enough, though it takes both sets of claws to do it reasonably. The full claw is a little heavy for his pinchers.]
Oooookay. These are kinda like my old ones. Heavy. At least there's three points. So, less breaking everything you touch at the start. First week with these I shattered every glass I picked up.
[He flicks his up and down in their wells, as if to helpfully prove a point, and then he goes back to releveling each tool into the place he'd started with them in while he waits for Ratchet to tell him what to do. ]
no subject
[Talking seems to steady him, at least a little, and his optics look a little less pale as he cycles his vents shakily.]
Go on, pick up one of the leads and I'll tell you when you're in the right spot with it. I can't exactly point yet--the second one should go a bit faster.
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[Whirl seems to think this is a plus. His old claws were great for bashing, and these have a similar build. He basically used to be able to smash through low quality plating in about two hits if he was angry enough at the time. He flicks back out the pinchers and they expand out ridiculously before picking up one lone wire.]
Let's get this party started.
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[He walks Whirl through reconnecting the tiny glittering nerves to the base of his new wrist, his optics paling and the lines around his mouth carved deep. It hurts, necessarily, circuits completing to send shuddering waves of renewed sensation back down along his arm even with the sensitivity turned as far down as he can manage, but at least he can tell it's working and he doesn't let the pain show on his face.]
You're doing fine.
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Whatever you say, Doc. Iiiiii.....think that's right?
[Whirl tips his helm and then actually looks at Ratchet. His own optic is painfully bright and his wings are high and tense, but he's in a rhythm that makes sense to him at the moment.]
If we're finishing this side first then I think we're good to test if these are gonna work at all.
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Nice work. [He sounds more like himself than he has in weeks, his optics suddenly sharp and bright.] Lock it in.
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Oh good. Moving's good. Okay. ....Still gonna be careful handing you anything yet.
Just...trust me. On that.
[Whirl might generally like raining on parades, but in this case he's just being practical. If there's anyone that knows how many things you can accidentally break with new claws, it's him.
And on that note, he stats bolting. Once again, this means pulling in one set of pinchers and using the flat of the claw to hold things in place.]
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[Ratchet shivers all over when Whirl screws the last piece into place and he draws his arm away from the table hesitantly. It holds, of course it does, and he spins it slowly, letting it rotate smoothly in its socket as he manipulates the individual claws before he shuts them with a sharp snap.]
I'll test sensation later and make adjustments when I can, but this is solid. The next one should be easier, I can actually help a bit instead of just telling you what goes where. Here. [He starts pointing to wires with one carefully extended claw, showing Whirl where the proper circuits complete. His head is bent over his own wrist but all the taut, aching tension is drained from him now, leaving him wrung out to a sort of desperate, flensing intensity without urgency, still not rushing Whirl despite his agitation.]
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Think you can test this one.
[ While he waits to see if if's going to need any adjustment, his claws flick yo and down in their wells, restless energy trying to find an outlet.]
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They don't hurt anymore. [His voice is soft, almost small as he stares down at his... not hands, not anymore. But they're whole and they work and he'll learn. He doesn't have a choice, and he knows it.
[Ratchet straightens abruptly and snaps the claws shut with a decisive clacking sound, his expression unreadable and intense.]
Thank you, Whirl. [His voice is low but not quiet, thrumming with intense emotion to which he can't quite give a name.] This was very well done.
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It's hit the point where it feels like his plating itches and that means he needs to go find something to shoot or distract himself with and he doesn't know how many options he's got at the moment. ]
Does that mean everything's all hunky dory and I can go back to my very important business of....whatever the frag I was doing?
[He doesn't know what to do with the thanks, especially because even if it helped it kind of feels like it didn't which is stupid and he knows it. Ratchet obviously didn't take well to feeling useless. He can relate. Which means this was the best option.
Still sucks slag.
Whirl still continues the same repetitive behavior without actually looking up or particularly interacting in any real way.]
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Yes. You can go.
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[When Whirl does look up he's clearly buzzing with way more energy than he can get rid of, and his helm darts with his optic as he figures out the best way to get out of the room without knocking anything over or knocking Ratchet in the process because he really doesn't want to do that on his way out. His claws do a fairly dramatic drum against the table and then Whirl...
Well, the best way to put it is, he flees though he will literally never admit to it if asked and Primus help anyone who ever thought to accuse him of it.]