re_alignment_logs | TEMPLE OF SCIENCE

Entry tags:

TEMPLE OF SCIENCE

WHO: Pharma, Drift, Liege, anyone in Liege's temple that wants to poke Pharma.
WHERE: Pharma's lab or around the temple
WHEN: Now. Herp.
WHAT: Working on the cure, general shenanigans
WARNINGS: Medic snark?

Pharma instructed his acolyte to set the final vial in the test tube rack and sat back, staring at the mess that now occupied his desk. He hated a messy work station. The acolyte would just have to take care of that too. Speaking of the silent robed figure, it really needed a name... it was getting awkward just addressing it as 'acolyte'. The medic wondered briefly how it would react to being called 'First Aid'?

For now, he had nothing more to do until his test patient returned. Perhaps he'd go explore some more of the temple...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Drift can be a stealthy critter. Half the time the Insecticons hadn't heard him coming. Well, over their own gibbering stupid.

"Pharma? Sure. He should be in the lab." Drift retreats a tactful distance. He does know he looks a little...gross. "I knew him from Delphi. Uh," he gives a shifty look, making sure they're not overheard. "You might want to be a little sensitive about, you know, the hands."

Knock Out laughs, not entirely kindly. "I've seen him already, actually-- in fact, about his hands." He wiggles his own fingers and grins. "I was taking a few measurements, you see~. Talking to him about aesthetics, features, important things like that."

Oh well this was good news! "You're helping him get new hands?" Very, very big tick. Drift tsks. "I feel responsible for him losing them. I should have been better at protecting all of them."

"Building them, actually. So much easier than rummaging through junk and hoping to stumble conveniently across something."

Oh, now this sounds interesting. Knock Out cocks his head slightly, optics bright. "Oh? You had something to do with his... predicament?"

"Yeah, that, uh, that would be kind of silly."

Drift will look a little guilty at that. Because rummaging through the Junk Pile trying to find Pharma's hands....is sort of what he's been doing. He started at where he'd found Pharma, and had slowly been circling out.

And now a little guiltier. "He said some maniac cut them off with swords. I was the only one at Delphi with swords." He droops. "Someone must have gotten them away from me."

Because he'd never attack a fellow Autobot. His blue-on-blue days are over.

"Just inefficient, I think." Knock Out gives a dismissive little wave of one hand. "Especially when the facilities exists to forge replacements, hm?"

He tsks softly. "Oh dear. Irresponsible weapons management?" He folds his arms over his chest and stands with his hips cocked, his tone thoroughly chastising. "You're keeping a closer watch on them now, I should hope?"

"I..._{suppose so}. New hands would be better." Hey, he was trying, at least! A for Effort!

"It's really nice of you to help him. I know if the situation were reversed he'd help you. He took in some refugee Decepticons at Delphi. And...well, it was a bad idea," taking in stray Decepticons is never a great idea, just ask Dai Atlas, "but his spark is good."

Ouch. Yeah, he deserved that. He closes his hands over the short swords' hilts. "I am. I think I was unconscious at the time, but that's no excuse."

"Normally I wouldn't lift a finger for an Autobot, but--" Knock Out shrugs, big shoulders rolling with the motion. "Well. I don't think this really... normal~. Besides, it's not like your, ah, kind had anything to do with our war."

Pretty words, and not entirely true. Knock Out has worked with Autobots before, when it benefited him-- and it's certainly not altruism motivating him now. He wants access to Pharma's lab. If that means helping repair some Autobot jet from another iteration of reality, than so be it.

He blinks, then laughs sharply. "Mm, well I have to say that that sounds like a valid excuse to me."

Drift nods. That makes sense, at least here, now. There was a time, in his past, when he'd have considered aiding an Autobot under any circumstance to be a capital offense.

A lot's changed since then.

"We need as many medics around here as possible, with as much experience as possible."

Drift frowns. "I think he blames me, though. I keep trying to make it up to him." With loads of exciting salvage from the Junk Pile, of course.

"What, the three of us here already aren't enough for you?" he asks. He's teasing, mostly because this Autobot seems to be taking it so seriously. He shakes his head dramatically. "Where I come from, three physicians for this many mechs is unheard of."

He's tempted to laugh, but reins in the urge, nodding along with a sympathetic moue on his face. "It sounds like your efforts aren't being, ah, well-received?"

"So many of us are from different places, though. I imagine things must be different. Like this." Drift holds up his hand, watching a trail of rust slide up his arm. "I don't know if you have this in your world."

He hopes not.

Drift frowns. "I understand, though. I mean, without my hands, what good am I?" He sighs. "I just wish I could find something he'd really want."

Knock Out watches it too, his optics riveted to the liquid trail of rust. He shudders visibly. "We've had some nasty plagues in our time, but nothing that caused rust like that, I think."

Of course, he could have missed something like that-- he'd spent a lot of time out on the fringes of the warzones, after all, actively avoiding the worst of the atrocities. He suspects he's happier that way.

He can't help but chuckle softly. "Maybe you ought to wait until he's got some hands on his wrists again, hm? I can't imagine there's anything right now that he'd want more than that."

"We had reason to believe it was a biological weapon." And he hopes his world is the only one with that problem. "It was certainly used as one."

That is wisdom, yes. "You're right. I just feel so...helpless. He's the only one from my world, and the only one who can heal this and...I just wish there was something I could do."

Knock Out scoffs, waving a hand. "Oh, of course. I can't imagine what else it would be. We had our fair share of those, of course-- the cybonic plague was the worst of them, although not quite so... messy~." Biological warfare? No big.

"He's the only one?" Now Knock Out cocked his head to the side, curious. "I met a mech who looked something like you, not long after I woke up. Airframe, a little more massive than me. Very similar color scheme to you, in fact. He seemed to know Pharma?"

It's pretty big for Drift. He prefers the enemies that are big enough to be stabbed, thanks.

"If you have a lot of experience with them, maybe you could help with the cure." Because Autobots working with Decepticons on a cure? Would be a very, very big tick.

"Oh. Yeah. Wing." Look, it's complicated, okay? "Wing's not really from the world I know. I mean, he is, but he's not. He's, uh," Drift is really not explaining this well, "he's kind of dead where I'm from and he's missed a lot."

"Mm, maybe. I'm really not much of a scientist--" No matter what Megatron seemed to think. "--but maybe I could be of some assistance." He shrugs.

And that stops Knock Out dead, his expression almost stricken for a moment-- at least until he's able to get it under control. He vents softly. "...I know exactly what you mean, I'm afraid."

"You have to be more useful than I am." Just about anything is, though.

Drift flinches at the reaction. Ooops. "I didn't mean to upset you. Just...a shock to see him here. Like part of me doesn't really believe it's real." Sure, that sounds less stupid, right?

That doesn't sound stupid at all. Knock Out just nods. "Mm, I know what you mean by that, too. I had a partner-- Well, and now I have him again. It seems like a miracle."

Drift nods, pausing to swipe a hand under his chin. Sorry, little leak there. "Miracle. Yes. A second chance and honestly...I'm afraid of wasting it."

So gross, but Knock Out manages not to shudder this time, at least? "So don't," he says with a shrug. "I don't plan to waste mine. I know what I did wrong--" Which was let Breakdown go out to a fight without a cool head along to keep him in line. "--and it's not going to happen again. Doesn't your second chance deserve the same?"

Drift's (unfortunately) gotten used to it. And he figures it's better than leaking on the other mech.

"I wish I had your confidence. I'm not even sure I deserve this." He hadn't deserved his first chance with Wing, really.

Knock Out shrugs. "It doesn't matter if you deserve it or not-- you have it. Why not make the best of the opportunity, hm?"

...because that's entirely alien to his honor-bound way of thinking?

"There's...a lot of, uh, stuff between us that I don't know how to get past."

"Mm." Knock Out shrugs again. A fellow Autobot might have pressed for more details, but not Knock Out. He saves his sentimentality for himself and his partner. "I'm sure you'll figure it out," he says finally, and that's about as far as he's willing to go with it.

Unbeknownst to Knock Out, Drift is a former fellow Decepticon.

...probably still wouldn't make the medic more sympathetic.

"I hope I do. Without anyone dying this time." Well, he's brought a puddle of emo, as well as rust, to this conversation. Time to lighten things up!

"So, uh. You don't live here. At Liege's." Because he can see your mark and it's not the one Pharma has.

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OH DRIFT YOU'RE SO PRECIOUS

He tries. So hard. ;-;

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