This isn't my usual stop...

[snark_2point0]

Ratchet wanders into the dressing room, looking a little worse for the wear. Not only is he soaking wet, water dripping from the seams in his armor and pooling on the floor around his feet, but he's got dozens of bite marks on him. Looks like several small somethings decided to gnaw on his legs in particular

Comments

[random_xtras]

"There are towels over here," offers a female voice softly, from where a young woman's sitting in a nest of them.

[snark_2point0]

"Oh. Er, thanks." Managing to locate towels that aren't part of the aforementioned nest, Ratchet gets his faceplate wiped off before sitting down rather heavily alongside some lockers. He shakes his head once, optic shutters opening and closing a few times.

[random_xtras]

She offers him some as he's locating, then settles back with one foot beneath her to tilt her head at him slightly in concern. "Are you alright?"

[snark_2point0]

"Tired. Had a parasite problem. Rotten little fraggers siphoned off a good portion of my energy." Slinging his scarf back on, his turns his attention to wiping off the rest of his armor.

[snark_2point0]

The name the woman initially calls him by confuses him for a moment. Ratchet blinks once, then realizes what the problem must be...

"Ratchet, yes. Bear, no. I think maybe you've got me confused with an alternate?" he asks, managing a small but understanding smile.