Slow burn... [Sages of Chaos & TF Dressing]
((At the conclusion of this story arc, Klank and Steiner will move to the game where they have been accepted via application.))
Death is starting to look pretty decent.
Laying on his back on one of Ratchet's operating tables, hooked up to a constant energon drip, Klank stares up at the ceiling overhead and tries to think of something pleasant. Anything at all that will take his mind off the fact that he has deteriorated so much that he can no longer walk, much less even stand without assistance. As it is, his left leg is so cracked and rusted out below the knee that too much pressure might actually shatter it completely. A few of his fingers have already turned completely to dust, leaving him with near useless hands. The pain is constant, a body-wide ache that sometimes threatens to overwhelm his sanity.
Beside the table, Steiner sits on constant watch, his big hands folded in his lap while he watches over his closest friend. Their reunion had been emotional, the larger of the pair unable to keep from wailing and sobbing like a small child who had been separated from his parents, only to be reunited after a long period of time. Unable to fully understand Klank's situation, Steiner settled for guarding his friend and fetching him requested items when they were needed. The big mech only knows that Klank is back, but that if something isn't done to keep him from falling apart, he'll die once more. Every hour, his frustration is renewed as the rust spreads just a bit more, eating away at housing inside and out.
The delay in securing Klank's cure is hardly anyone's fault, however. Ratchet has been working on very little recharge since finishing his analysis, building a new shell body on a table across the way with parts that he and the rest have scavenged and purchased. That end of the project is nearly in sight. Even further off is the chamber that will hopefully make the difference between success and failure; built on plans originally created by the joint efforts of Ratchet and Rhinox, it is new take on the old Pretender conversion chambers. The other Pretenders have seen to its construction, carefully following the schematics and changes drawn up by Ratchet from memory. Only hours remain before both chamber and new shell are complete.
"Has anyone heard from Catilla?" Ratchet pauses in his work to glance at Chainclaw and Moledive. Picking up a flask of mid-grade, he uses the opportunity to refuel a little in the hopes that the energon will at least chase off some of his physical exhaustion. The issue of mental exhaustion is something else entirely.
"Not yet," Chainclaw replies, turning from the nearly finished chamber to meet his employer's gaze. "He's been gone what? Three hours, now?"
"He might have gone to the question nexus first," Moledive adds. "You know how easy it is to get tied up there, especially for a chatty idiot like him."
Ratchet huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. "If he's not back within the hour, I'll have to call him back. Either we get that rumored All Spark energy or we don't."
"Catilla's a tracker and negotiator by trade. He should be able to turn something up. I mean, if there's anything TO find out there, I'm sure he'll find it." Chainclaw attempts a hopeful, if shaky smile.
"Chamber progress report, then?" the medic inquires.
"I'd say ninety-five percent, boss. We'll be able to start diagnostics shortly," Moledive replies.
Turning away, Ratchet walks towards Klank and Steiner, stopping by the table to make a routine check on his ex-rival's condition. The monitors show that while Klank's spark pulse is weak, it's at least steady...for the moment. "Hang in there. We're almost done."
"I probably look as poorly as I feel," Klank manages to rasp, forcing a pained smile. "Don't lie to me. That is the truth, isn't it?"
Ratchet smiles in sympathy. "You look like rotted slag."
"The outside...finally matches the inside, I guess..."
"Just keep your focus on your systems and we'll get you into that new shell in a little bit here, you got me?" Heading back to work, Ratchet hopes it won't be much longer until their resident tracker returns...preferably with good news.
Death is starting to look pretty decent.
Laying on his back on one of Ratchet's operating tables, hooked up to a constant energon drip, Klank stares up at the ceiling overhead and tries to think of something pleasant. Anything at all that will take his mind off the fact that he has deteriorated so much that he can no longer walk, much less even stand without assistance. As it is, his left leg is so cracked and rusted out below the knee that too much pressure might actually shatter it completely. A few of his fingers have already turned completely to dust, leaving him with near useless hands. The pain is constant, a body-wide ache that sometimes threatens to overwhelm his sanity.
Beside the table, Steiner sits on constant watch, his big hands folded in his lap while he watches over his closest friend. Their reunion had been emotional, the larger of the pair unable to keep from wailing and sobbing like a small child who had been separated from his parents, only to be reunited after a long period of time. Unable to fully understand Klank's situation, Steiner settled for guarding his friend and fetching him requested items when they were needed. The big mech only knows that Klank is back, but that if something isn't done to keep him from falling apart, he'll die once more. Every hour, his frustration is renewed as the rust spreads just a bit more, eating away at housing inside and out.
The delay in securing Klank's cure is hardly anyone's fault, however. Ratchet has been working on very little recharge since finishing his analysis, building a new shell body on a table across the way with parts that he and the rest have scavenged and purchased. That end of the project is nearly in sight. Even further off is the chamber that will hopefully make the difference between success and failure; built on plans originally created by the joint efforts of Ratchet and Rhinox, it is new take on the old Pretender conversion chambers. The other Pretenders have seen to its construction, carefully following the schematics and changes drawn up by Ratchet from memory. Only hours remain before both chamber and new shell are complete.
"Has anyone heard from Catilla?" Ratchet pauses in his work to glance at Chainclaw and Moledive. Picking up a flask of mid-grade, he uses the opportunity to refuel a little in the hopes that the energon will at least chase off some of his physical exhaustion. The issue of mental exhaustion is something else entirely.
"Not yet," Chainclaw replies, turning from the nearly finished chamber to meet his employer's gaze. "He's been gone what? Three hours, now?"
"He might have gone to the question nexus first," Moledive adds. "You know how easy it is to get tied up there, especially for a chatty idiot like him."
Ratchet huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. "If he's not back within the hour, I'll have to call him back. Either we get that rumored All Spark energy or we don't."
"Catilla's a tracker and negotiator by trade. He should be able to turn something up. I mean, if there's anything TO find out there, I'm sure he'll find it." Chainclaw attempts a hopeful, if shaky smile.
"Chamber progress report, then?" the medic inquires.
"I'd say ninety-five percent, boss. We'll be able to start diagnostics shortly," Moledive replies.
Turning away, Ratchet walks towards Klank and Steiner, stopping by the table to make a routine check on his ex-rival's condition. The monitors show that while Klank's spark pulse is weak, it's at least steady...for the moment. "Hang in there. We're almost done."
"I probably look as poorly as I feel," Klank manages to rasp, forcing a pained smile. "Don't lie to me. That is the truth, isn't it?"
Ratchet smiles in sympathy. "You look like rotted slag."
"The outside...finally matches the inside, I guess..."
"Just keep your focus on your systems and we'll get you into that new shell in a little bit here, you got me?" Heading back to work, Ratchet hopes it won't be much longer until their resident tracker returns...preferably with good news.