re_alignment_logs | Much Needed Support

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Much Needed Support

WHO: Rung, Open!
WHERE: At his office in Alpha Trion's quadrant.
WHEN A few days after the Glyphless stuff went down.
WHAT: He knows that a lot of people may need his help right now, so he's spending a lot of time at his office.
WARNINGS: Um...well..who knows what might come up?

Considering everything that had been going on, Rung had decided that he was going to put in even more time at his office than he usually did. It only seemed right, all things considered, and he wanted to be able to help anyone and everyone that needed it. Sure they could very easily just contact him over the comm but something a little more personal seemed like a good idea.

Sometimes it was more comforting to, it just depended on the individual.

He had stepped out for a bit of a break from the office scenery, even if he was extremely use to it, spending a few minutes down by the lake's edge before making his way back inside. The therapist was honestly very glad he had taken the suggestion of setting up an office here because the quadrant was nothing short of gorgeous and very therapeutic in a way. There was a calm atmosphere that would be good for his patients and he wanted to make sure his office was just as calming and comforting of an atmosphere as possible; that sort of thing had always been his main goal after all.

The therapist made his way into his office to settle in, his thoughts briefly going to a few individuals that he'd spoken to as of late--like Fort Max, Ultra Magnus, and Whirl--the latter making him wince just a bit.

Not his best approach ever...

Rung shook his head a bit, optics dimming for a moment before he nudged those thoughts aside, collecting himself as he leaned back in his seat to start organizing some new data, wanting to have everything properly sorted for everyone he spoke to, just in case.

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Now there was concern in the therapist's expression, concern that he wasn't trying to hide.

"If..there's something that I can do..have you tried asking for anyone's help with it? Your diet I mean. There has to be something that can be done. You shouldn't have to starve yourself just because of a difference in your diet."

It really wasn't clicking with Rung that this 'special diet' may be something that's not so easy to deal with, his worry for the other outweighing any other concerns.

Well that's something new. He doesn't really get that kind of look. Ever.

"You can't really help with my diet." Besides he promised Whirl he wouldn't hurt Rung. He plans on sticking to that, unless there's some kind of emergency starving issue and Rung's the only thing around.

"No one's going to help me if I ask for it. I've tried before and got weird looks, a gun pointed at my head, called a freak, and I'm pretty sure I made Autobot medics hate me."

That was basically what happened anyway.

He vents another sigh. His life. He hates it.

Rung couldn't help but frown, a little, tiny bubble of irritation building inside him but he did his best not to let it show outright.

And failed a tiny bit.

"That's...well, you've never asked me for help before. I'm not going point a gun at you--I don't even have a gun," the therapist murmured, holding his hands out a bit in a gesture of 'Look, I'm weaponless and weak'. "I want to help you, if you'll let me."

Dead End simply stares at the therapist for a moment. Oh yes, he's never had someone react this way to him before. What the frag does he do? How does he respond to this?

"But you can't... Even if I wanted you to help."

Rung really doesn't strike him as the kind of bot capable or willing to do what he'd need to keep his systems full of energy.

"Listen, I know I'm going to die. It's fine. I've known that for a long time now."

"We're all going to die at some point, but there's no reason in helping it along if there's a possibility that it can be put off," Rung countered, giving the other a serious look because he wasn't going to let this go that easily.

It just..no. He didn't like the idea of anyone, former 'Con or 'Bot or other alike, being denied help for any reason.

"Please. There has to be something I can do."

"I try not to help it along. I like to live as long as I can... At least give myself enough time so that I'll leave a nice looking corpse. Make everyone see what they missed out on..."

His paint job still needed some work, it wasn't perfect enough for him just yet. If he could die looking nice, dying might not be so bad.

Dead End turns his gaze away from Rung and to the floor, a finger quietly tapping against his knee. How to say this? Does he even want to? He shouldn't have said anything, this was a bad idea. Rung's reacting all weird and... caring.

He doesn't know how to deal with this.

"You can't... I eat other bots, alright! Not that I chose this diet."

He's just going to avoid eye contact. Sounds good.

Eat other bots.

Out of all the things that he had been expecting to hear, that actually hadn't been on the list. But it didn't send him cringing or ordering the other to get out. He sat there for a long moment, watching Dead End, contemplating things before he slowly stood and moved around the desk.

There was no fear or disgust, nothing like that, as Rung approached the other, reaching out to touch his shoulder as he tried to get the other to look at him once again.

"..Have you tried talking to the Firstforged? Or perhaps one of the scientists? There...maybe there's a way to create a synthetic substance--a synthetic spark that could sustain you?" he suggested, not really a science minded mech himself but he was trying to throw out some possibilities. "There has to be something that can help you...and if you'll let me, I'd like to help."

At least he could say that he tried the whole therapy thing. It was nice (although that was being extremely generous) while it lasted, but so much for that now that his diet was out.

He merely continued to sit, focused on the ground as he waited for the yelling. It was usually yelling. Instead what he gets is the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

What?

Slowly Dead End looks up, eying Rung, entirely confused.

Where was the yelling?

"I... What?" This makes no sense at all. He should be kicked out right about now.

"Power cores," he corrects, "never tried a spark before, but with the way everyone keeps talking about them, makes me feel like I'm missing something... But I like power cores."

No. No. This really isn't right here.

"Shouldn't you be kicking me out now? Or yelling? Particularly yelling offensive things at me?"

Like a normal bot.

"Power cores then. There has to be a way to produce something equivalent that you can survive on," Rung replied, squeezing the other's shoulder a bit before his optics dimmed a bit in a sort of understanding way.

"No, that's not how I handle things. I help others, that's what I do. And you need someone to help you," he murmured, keeping his hand where it was since the other hadn't made any move to shake himself free. "You seem like a decent being to me and that is enough for me to want to help you. So, let's look at all our options, shall we?"

He gave the other another smile, a warm, reassuring sort of one.

For a while all Dead End can do is give Rung a long skeptical look. Is he hearing this right?

Rung thinks he's decent? He wants to help?

...

This is a trap. It's a trap and he's doomed, there's no other explanation.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're weird?" Because it needed to be said, just in case this wasn't a trap. But it was probably a trap. People don't do this kind of thing for him. Especially not someone he just met.

"You could just help with the whole... therapist talking thing. You don't... You don't actually have to help with my diet."

"Plenty of people," Rung said with a tinge of humor to his voice, use to that sort of sentiment. It wasn't the first time he'd heard thing from someone and it wouldn't be the last time, he had no doubt about that.

Giving the other's shoulder one last squeeze, the therapist finally let go and tucked his arms behind his back, lacing his fingers together.

"Or I could do both. I want to help you...but if you'd rather I didn't..." he trailed off with a bit of a shrug.

There's a brief pause before Dead End speaks up again, "As long as you aren't trying to kill me, I don't care what you help with."

If Rung wants to help with his diet, then he's not going to stop him.

"Don't know how much help you can actually do though. I don't think what the dark energon did can be fixed... And no one else wants to help me. You're kind of alone in this."

The fact that someone wanted to help was already making his processor all confused. Thinking about how helping could happen was downright impossible. That and, he's not really a positive mech.

"We'll find others to help. There are individuals here that will help you, don't give up hope yet about that," Rung said softly, reassuringly, moving back over to his desk finally and sinking down into his seat.

So where to start?

"Have you been able to get any sort of subsistence since you arrived here?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as he rested his hands in his lap. "I mean, I'd imagine you had to have found something, considering you are sitting here right now."

The Decepticon shakes his head, "Never had any hope to begin with. They aren't going to help, and the less that know about my diet the better."

The last thing he needed was people trying to kill him or lock him up. Anyone comes after him later, and then he'll know for sure that this was a trap. No one does, and then maybe Rung is a little trustworthy. Maybe.

"I've been drinking a lot of energon, not that it really does much," but it was better than nothing. Didn't really make him feel like he wasn't starving, but it lessened it just a little. "Wheeljack's let me... borrow some of the energy from his power core as well." Not that it filled him up either.

Rung's quiet for a moment as he considers all this, debating on a few things. There aren't a lot of options, at least not right now, but he intends to change that.

Because there has to be someone that will help. For now though...

"...What if you had someone else that allowed you to borrow energy as well? Would that help, at least for now?" he asked finally, optics brightening some as he came out of his thoughts and focused on Dead End once more. "At least until another alternative could be found?"

Someone else to borrow energy from, oh well this is going to a worse place already.

"It would help," there's an unspoken but in there. Rung can't be offering what he thinks he is. Bots don't just do that, job as a therapist or not. Autobot or not. It just doesn't happen.

"You can't be talking about yourself."

It's not that he wouldn't eat that. He would.

"And if I was?" Rung countered again, tilting his head. "I wouldn't be object to helping you, Dead End. There's no reason any individual should have to go without substinance and if I can help along with the other helping you, that would make things a bit better for you would it not?"

And the quality of life for others was somethig that Rung really liked to try and preserve as much as he could. It was what he did instead of fighting. Plus, he could spare the energy.

"I mean it. If you want, you can use me as well until another alternative is found."

"It would help yeah... Would feel like I'm not starving as often." but that hardly meant he agreed with the idea. He'd just met the mech, and there was some more important reasoning in there as well.

He just can't.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you. Using you as a snack would hurt, probably leave some scars." he sighs, shaking his head.

"I really don't think you know what you're offering here."

Edited 2012-12-21 13:24 (UTC)

"I may not look it but I've survived quite a bit and I'm not scared at the idea of doing somethig like this," Rung said in all seriousness, thinking back to quite a few situations that he'd been in where his life had been threatened.

He couldn't count them all on one hand, to say the least.

"Then explain it all to me. But it's not going to change my mind. I want to help you so that's what I intend to do." Because where others had shunned Dead End, Rung was willing to accept and help him.

If nothing he said would change Rung's mind, was there even any point in trying to convince him? Probably not, but he couldn't just say yes and use the mech.

"It's not about how good you are at surviving," he starts, trying to find a good way to explain this. "You could die if I get carried away. You don't exactly look all that strong, and I prefer direct access so you'll probably feel more drained... And I already mentioned the pain and the scars. They'd be a pain to explain if a medic ever found out... I mean I'm sure you taste delicious, but I'm not supposed to eat you."

That was practically eating him, sort of.

"I eat you and I'll be killed."

Rung considered it all, glancing up slightly in thought, doing some quick thinking on the entire thing.

"I don't mind feeling drained, nor do I fear the potential threat of death. This other individual that's been helping you, if you were to do it with both of us present, we could make sure nothing happened to each or, that you didn't get carried away," he suggested, focusing on Dead End again. "Leave the worrying about pain and scars to me. I'll figure out something should I need to explain them to any of the others."

But... But. Why is Rung making this so hard. Things are never so easy, it couldn't be. Things were never like this before, why would his luck suddenly be changing? It wouldn't.

"But Whirl would kill me."

There. There's that. His luck isn't changing. Even if Rung's idea is a good one. He's got every excuse to do what he said he would and not eat Rung. Although if the Autobot has an answer for this one, well he's all out of ideas.

Scrap, this isn't easy.

"While I appreciate others being concerned for my well being, the choice is ultimately mine and I want to do this and help you," Rung said firmly, not really leaving room for any further arguments. He honestly doubted that Whirl cared that much so it was a null point as it was. (Considering Rung was pretty sure his last outburst had ruined their relationship.)

"So please, let me do this." There wasn't too much he could do to help so he was going to jump at thr chance to do what he could.

"I..."

Scrap, scrap, scrap. This wasn't what he expected therapy to be like, this wasn't going at all how he imagined. Rung was. Nice was a good word for it, but nice might not even cover it if he was a trustworthy bot.

He shouldn't say no to a free meal. If he wants to keep from starving he shouldn't say no to a free meal. But he should because.

Right. Because.

Dead End's wings twitch nervously, "I don't." What does he do?

"I guess... Maybe."

There. Now that they had gotten past that.

"Alright then," Rung said with a bit of a nod, feeling better now that the other was at least going to give him the chance to do this. He went quiet for a second, studying the other before he moved to stand, tucking his arms behind his back.

"When was the last time you were able to have something to eat?" he asked, head tilting some in a curious manner. "Because if it's been awhile then you could feed now..if you wanted."

Edited 2012-12-23 01:03 (UTC)

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