Ratchet is preparing supplies for some upcoming exploring he intends to do when he hears a commotion in the main medbay. He thinks he should dodge out of his quarters to see what's going on when he gets a warning on his HUD. A single, solitary beacon pulse that, to Ratchet's gauges, appears to be dropping in power with time.
He curses. Should've done that exploring a little bit before now, huh, medibot?
[[Tell me whatever you can about what you've got. I'm coming.]]
*Rodimus is hovering at the edge of consciousness when the comm comes in. Reluctantly - and with no little effort - he pulls himself together enough to respond.*
//My diagnostics are kind of garbled... I know I've got blown circuits pretty much everywhere. Critical failure in self-repair... shoulder joint's cracked... And I can't see.//
And now, through the magic of RP time (and space) warp...!resident_demonJuly 29 2010, 19:15:09 UTC
Medics generally recognize that any call that comes through automated isn't done so because the sender is lazy. Ratchet almost feels guilty asking for the report, but he knows it's necessary. A patient who can give a sitrep to an inbound medic isn't likely to be greyed out when the medic arrives.
Demonstrating that to the patient is, of course, up to the medic's discretion.
[[Well, I can guarantee you'll be welded to a medbay berth for a while. And you'd better let me drive you in.]]
After driving for what seems like forever, and running over more than a few berms to try to follow the geometrically shortest distance between A and B, Ratchet's HUD zeroes in on the beacon pulse. He transforms and looks around the area, then strides over to kneel next to Hot Rod.
Hey, there, soldier. Name, rank, serial number, please.
(OOC: Ratchet's not quite aware of the not-vocalizing thing... yet, anyway...)
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Ratchet is preparing supplies for some upcoming exploring he intends to do when he hears a commotion in the main medbay. He thinks he should dodge out of his quarters to see what's going on when he gets a warning on his HUD. A single, solitary beacon pulse that, to Ratchet's gauges, appears to be dropping in power with time.
He curses. Should've done that exploring a little bit before now, huh, medibot?
[[Tell me whatever you can about what you've got. I'm coming.]]
Reply
*Rodimus is hovering at the edge of consciousness when the comm comes in. Reluctantly - and with no little effort - he pulls himself together enough to respond.*
//My diagnostics are kind of garbled... I know I've got blown circuits pretty much everywhere. Critical failure in self-repair... shoulder joint's cracked... And I can't see.//
Reply
Demonstrating that to the patient is, of course, up to the medic's discretion.
[[Well, I can guarantee you'll be welded to a medbay berth for a while. And you'd better let me drive you in.]]
After driving for what seems like forever, and running over more than a few berms to try to follow the geometrically shortest distance between A and B, Ratchet's HUD zeroes in on the beacon pulse. He transforms and looks around the area, then strides over to kneel next to Hot Rod.
Hey, there, soldier. Name, rank, serial number, please.
(OOC: Ratchet's not quite aware of the not-vocalizing thing... yet, anyway...)
Reply
*He can hear Ratchet's voice. It's a little fuzzy, but at least he's not deaf as well as blind. ...His mouth opens, but no sound comes out.*
//Rodimus Prime.... commander. And utter moron.//
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