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[This time when Ratchet starts broadcasting, the video clicks on. He looks a little worn, but there's an underlying stubborn determination there, deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth.]

Ratchet here. Consider the inorganic section of medical officially back in business. That goes for everyone who's even part mechanical, not just Cybertronians--my door is open.

If you are Cybertronian and I haven't seen you for a check, you're due. I'm aware I still can't exactly order any of the Decepticons around ranking medical officer or not, but except for certain individuals who know who they are, you're welcome as well and I recommend it. Who knows what the hell this place is doing to us--I'd appreciate a baseline just in case something does go wrong and I end up having to do something about it.

Anyway, that's it. Ratchet out.

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Thank you.

[His voice is quiet.]

[Whirl just turns off the video and not too long after he's hovering around the door of the medbay, looking like a very large, grumpy, bird. ]

What's the favor this time, doc.

[He clearly is in something of a mood, and leans on the wall to look unbothered just because he can.]

I never got proper scans of your claws.

[Ratchet looks up over his shoulder at Whirl, a long, thin piece of metal held delicately between the tips of two of his claws. They're thinner at the tips and they bend at the joints now, and his claw rotates lazily at the wrist, spinning in its socket as he watches Whirl's optic.]

I'm doing all right, for the most part, but I'd like a look at the more delicate mechanisms that you use.

[Whirl's answer to uncomfortable emotions is to ignore them and that's even more the case since Rung left. Which means a lot of avoiding the medbay.

But seeing that Ratchet is adapting at least takes some of the aggressiveness out of his stance and he uncrosses his rotors.]

I did agree to that, huh.

[ He says it a bit like he was caught somehow, and he steps further into the Medbay. He watches curiously as he moves, his own claws clicking as he seems to both try to figure out what Ratchet's updated and also act as if he doesn't care.]

[Ratchet watches Whirl watching him and sets whatever he's holding down, spreading his claws and shrugging a little.]

I'm open to suggestions as well, if you want to take a look. I'd modify yours too, if you seen any changes I've made that you like.

[Whirl still hovers for a moment, like he's debating how invested to act, before he actually does step up to get a better look, and before he's got too long to think about it, he reaches out and- very delicately, with just the tips of his claws- tweaks the end points of one of Ratchet's, making it bend at the joint. Whirl's helm tips.]

Cool.

[Ratchet looks a little startled at that assessment, watching Whirl touch his claws and making no effort to pull back or deter him.]

Thank you. [He sounds surprised and not a little pleased, and he watches Whirl's own claws curiously before his optics flick to Whirl's face.]

How have you been holding up?

[Whirl bends it back, partly because he hasn't been told no, and also partly because he's entertained. What. Are you going to stop him now? Because he's been given what he sees as an OK and is going to keep taking it. It means he continues bending the hinge back and forth as he talks without seeming to pay much attention to what he's saying.]

Stuff's slagged, but when isn't it? But Swerve had some of his stash. So there's that.

[Ratchet, you're going to have to stop him, he's distracted.]

[Ratchet watches Whirl wiggle his claw back and forth for a while, looking mildly entertained before he shifts and closes his clawtips delicately on Whirl's to still him. He looks thoughtful, though, not upset.]

I'm still deciding whether it's worth the energon it'd take to cook up some high grade with spare medical supplies, but we never know when we're going to have a shortage again.

High Grade's always worth it.

[Whirl doesn't seem bothered by being stopped. Mostly because half the fun was seeing how long until Ratchet did stop him. He uses his free claw to gesture away. ]

I dunno how much Swerve's got left and I think Riptide and me finished the last of his.

Not if we starve later it's not.

[Ratchet heaves a very small sigh of warm air from his vents and lets go of Whirl's claws.]

I suppose it's probably better that I wasn't drunk most of this month, though I could have used it.

We can always eat Starscream.

[A beat.]

We've got two.

[Once his claws are free whirl goes on clicking them like he'd never stopped.]

So, if we're gonna start scanning, where do you want me?

Maybe, but do you want to try to pick which one's more annoying than the other so we can figure out which to cannibalize? We'd all bottom out before we could decide and they'd both complain the whole time. Right where you are is fine.

[He flips a diagnostic viewer out of his wrist--those still work fine, thank you--and takes a quick scan, frowning thoughtfully at the results.]

...thank you. I just need to look these over and figure out what changes would be useful for me specifically. Unless you have suggestions?

Let them fight it out. Maybe we can sell tickets.

[Whirl is utterly unbothered by this and just sort of keeps holding out his claws while the scan is done. One it is, he cranes his long neck over so he can try and look at the screen.]

You've got more bends than I do, I don't know where you'd be able to fit the smaller ones unless you only just had one a claw.

.....But the ability to rotate really helps. [As if to show off, he turns each claw in it's well.]

Yeah--I might build some that can fold out of my wrist if I can figure out a way they won't restrict movement, if only to stabilize tools as I'm using them. The points are thinner, so they seem to be working out all right for precision work just as they are, at least so far.

[Ratchet shifts to let Whirl see the readout, frowning thoughtfully.]

Yeah, I'm finding that. More range of motion is better than less, I think, when dexterity is restricted.

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