[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]We're Off To See The Wizard [ Ratchet|Closed ]
May 19, 2018 17:12:06 GMT -5
Post by Ratchet on May 19, 2018 17:12:06 GMT -5
As he listened to Hot Rod speak, Ratchet continued to work. He had successfully removed the Autobot badge, and was now starting on re-filling in the blank spot on the youth’s chest. He turned to one of his cupboards, and removed a large tube of what looked like red paint. Inserting it into what looked like some sort of sprayer built into a wall, he turned back to Hot Rod.
“I try not to read too much of what is posted on the human’s “internet”. Some of it gives me headaches. But I’m more than aware of what these conspiracy nuts, as you call them, believe. I’ve had to help Rafael more than once remove evidence of our presence here. Can you believe there are some humans out there who honestly believe this planet is flat? Flat! As if a flat planet could even exist in space!”
Ratchet gave a snort, half annoyed, half bemused. Turning on the sprayer, he gave it a few experimental spurts onto a cloth to ensure it was working, then gave a few spritzes to Hot Rod’s chest. Ratchet tested the color of the paint against the red already there. He made a few adjustments, retesting it again on the cloth. This time the red was a little more vibrant, less of a tone muter mixing into the compound.
“Keep still, or you’ll end up with stripes.”
With this warning, Ratchet started reapplying the paint.
“What you say about us knowing of other life when we were on Cybertron is true, yes. But that’s the thing. We were told. None of it was kept from us, and considering Cybertron is in a rather populated part of our galaxy, it wouldn’t have been a secret for very long. Humans, on the other hand, live on a planet that’s extremely empty of other planets with life, and they have gotten to this point in their evolution without knowing. Had they been made aware of this back several thousand years ago, who knows what might have happened?”
Ratchet paused for a moment, then returned to painting. His servo carefully moved back and forth, ensuring even coverage.
“I chose my Earth alt-mode because it most closely resembled my true one. I didn’t realize the trouble it would cause, unfortunately. Now I’ve just gotten too used to it, I suppose. I wasn’t happy having to change in the first place. Now that I’m used to this one, I have no desire to break in a new one, thank you very much. Besides, most of my time is spent here, working.”
A few extra squirts of paint here and there, and he leaned back, studying his work again, “Stay lying down for a few seconds so it dries even.”
The medic turned, putting the tool on the bench. When he spoke, he sounded somewhat tired, “MECH is much more convoluted than it seems. Optimus wants no human deaths, unless we’re absolutely, directly, in danger of losing our lives. Even the humans allied with us, NEST, has no trouble taking them on and killing them, when they can. Optimus, however…”
With a faint vent, Ratchet turned back, “Optimus, I think, is tired of death. The Autobot’s hands aren’t clean in this war. We’ve damaged entire species, we’ve even destroyed some planets during our war. Us. The ones who are supposed to be fighting for peace. And in the end, it all comes down to his choices and decisions. I suppose I can’t really blame him for wanting to reduce the number of deaths as much as possible. It’s hard to say. I know it’s a responsibility I wouldn’t want.”
“You can get up now.”
“I try not to read too much of what is posted on the human’s “internet”. Some of it gives me headaches. But I’m more than aware of what these conspiracy nuts, as you call them, believe. I’ve had to help Rafael more than once remove evidence of our presence here. Can you believe there are some humans out there who honestly believe this planet is flat? Flat! As if a flat planet could even exist in space!”
Ratchet gave a snort, half annoyed, half bemused. Turning on the sprayer, he gave it a few experimental spurts onto a cloth to ensure it was working, then gave a few spritzes to Hot Rod’s chest. Ratchet tested the color of the paint against the red already there. He made a few adjustments, retesting it again on the cloth. This time the red was a little more vibrant, less of a tone muter mixing into the compound.
“Keep still, or you’ll end up with stripes.”
With this warning, Ratchet started reapplying the paint.
“What you say about us knowing of other life when we were on Cybertron is true, yes. But that’s the thing. We were told. None of it was kept from us, and considering Cybertron is in a rather populated part of our galaxy, it wouldn’t have been a secret for very long. Humans, on the other hand, live on a planet that’s extremely empty of other planets with life, and they have gotten to this point in their evolution without knowing. Had they been made aware of this back several thousand years ago, who knows what might have happened?”
Ratchet paused for a moment, then returned to painting. His servo carefully moved back and forth, ensuring even coverage.
“I chose my Earth alt-mode because it most closely resembled my true one. I didn’t realize the trouble it would cause, unfortunately. Now I’ve just gotten too used to it, I suppose. I wasn’t happy having to change in the first place. Now that I’m used to this one, I have no desire to break in a new one, thank you very much. Besides, most of my time is spent here, working.”
A few extra squirts of paint here and there, and he leaned back, studying his work again, “Stay lying down for a few seconds so it dries even.”
The medic turned, putting the tool on the bench. When he spoke, he sounded somewhat tired, “MECH is much more convoluted than it seems. Optimus wants no human deaths, unless we’re absolutely, directly, in danger of losing our lives. Even the humans allied with us, NEST, has no trouble taking them on and killing them, when they can. Optimus, however…”
With a faint vent, Ratchet turned back, “Optimus, I think, is tired of death. The Autobot’s hands aren’t clean in this war. We’ve damaged entire species, we’ve even destroyed some planets during our war. Us. The ones who are supposed to be fighting for peace. And in the end, it all comes down to his choices and decisions. I suppose I can’t really blame him for wanting to reduce the number of deaths as much as possible. It’s hard to say. I know it’s a responsibility I wouldn’t want.”
“You can get up now.”