re_alignment_logs | CLOSED; that i am just nothing

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CLOSED; that i am just nothing

WHO; Fortress Maximus, Optimus Prime, later a medic or summat
WHERE; Outskirts (inskirts?) of Prima's quadrant, closer to the Junkyard.
WHEN; Not overly long after Max's conversation with Whirl.
WHAT; Maximus has a drunken tantrum.
WARNINGS; SOMETIMES BEING DRUNK DOESN'T HELP THINGS and just gets you thinking dark things

The world was spinning - a sure sign that soon enough, it'd hit the 'numb' stage, which only meant that Fortress Maximus needed to focus just long enough to get there. Then he could stop, then he could stop caring, though truth be told he'd already hit the latter...partly, at least.

But not enough to burn away the anger.

That was what led him here tonight, to a friend whose acquaintance he'd been making more and more often as of late- one who burned just as much, but, well, that was the point. The point was to burn, to burn everything away until it all hit that numb state and he could just do nothing, feel nothing, be nothing-

Not tonight.

Tonight the highgrade twisted in Fortress Maximus like a poison, leaving him feeling ugly and toxic inside - which fit, didn't it? Fit just fine. Fit how he felt, wanting to twist something, himself, maybe a neck, maybe a body, twist it once before ripping it limb from limb, then rip those apart, keeping the torso for last because that should go slowly, that should have just enough attached to it to keep the spark alive as he- as he-

Fort Max coughed, flecks of highgrade flying from his lips. He reached up to thump his chest, Slag, he-...he hadn't had enough if he still felt like that, but looking down at the cube, it was already empty. The ex-warden scowled at it, grip tightening. The hell was wrong with this mix, it was supposed to-

-the vessel shattered in his grasp, shrapnel flying everywhere. Startled, he shouted, all but leaping out of his seat and back as guns flipped down, powering on-

It took a few seconds for systems to catch up to processor, and for entirety to realize that he wasn't under attack. Despite the pain in his hand...

"Fragging- pathetic," he muttered, glancing down at his palm. And slag if that didn't fit as well. Fit damn well, being startled by stupidity, and slag if he hadn't been hellishly stupid lately, enough for a lifetime...

His fist gripped, pieces of the cube being pressed further in the flexible metal of his hand. He didn't care. Didn't care about any of it, it was all so- so moronic, especially this, especially-

With another snarl, he whirled, slamming his hand in to the wall - through the wall. His other hand followed suit, the sudden exertion like a spark to a trail of explosives- and they all set off at once. With a howl, he struck out at the only thing he could - the small residence he'd taken as shelter. He screamed and raged, a hysterical tantrum that he could not stop despite himself.

There was a poison within him, and he was feeding it day by day. Every day he ignored from the greatest threat, every day he ran from what he had to do, every day he let his cowardice get the better of him - excuses were worthless. It didn't matter about upping his weaponry, it didn't matter about not going in to things half-prepared, it didn't matter that he knew full well, in his spark, that he could not do this-

The poison coursed through him like fire and he rode it until it was done, helpless in the its familiar thrall.

When the outburst was over, he was left in rubble as ruined as though one of those centipede-creatures had done it themselves. Gasping, Fortress Maximus fell to his knees, and then his hands as well, bowing over the debris of his former shelter. More energon dripped from his mouth, but this one a foul, dark color.

Highgrade had its effect on a mech's systems - multiple ones. Most systems were designed to process it, yes, but take too much and the fuel pumps would inevitably corrode. Build-up from the decay would form, and there were only so many ways to rid oneself of it...

On his hands and knees, Fort Max retched, stress-worn systems purging what poison it could. He let this, go, too; stopped thinking and just let go, not caring about how vile or disgusting this was, not caring about how this wouldn't change a thing, either, he'd just start all over again, start until he was numb once more and didn't have to think...

Despite it all, Fortress Maximus couldn't help but bark out a short, bitter laugh.

Whirl didn't know just how right he was. And didn't know that that- the truth, the harsh, fragging bitter truth, no matter how Maximus tried to deny it, no matter how he tried to be something different and to change...

He was a trashed mech, a walking corpse. Should have been melted down for parts instead of revived, but short of throwing himself in to a smelter...

Not that he hadn't thought of it before that, but.

He let himself fall on to his side, strength sapped out of him with the bile. Part of him was still /in/ it, but...he couldn't bring himself to care.

Apathy.

Numbness.

Or at least as close to it as he'd get for a while, and that'd have to be enough.

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He recognized that ping signature.

"Max? Max?!"

Optimus broke into a run, coming up on the source of the return ping. The half-demolished 'walls' made of scrap were vaguely recognizable as a shelter of sorts - and beyond them lay the prone form of the familiar Autobot.

Optimus knelt down next to him, hand going to the mech's back as he scanned for injuries and enemies...and found neither. Aside from battered fists and a number of dents (and the mess of rank, clearly purged energon at his side,) Fortress Maximus was alive and very much not ripped to pieces by some monster.

But he clearly wasn't well.

"...Maximus. Are you alright?"

The yelling registered on his audials, but didn't register. It halted somewhere in his processor, and looped again, stubbornly trying to pierce through the haze-

Damn it.

Couldn't Cybertron figure out he was better left alone right now?

Red optics flickered, trying to bring his surroundings back in to comprehension - their unfocused light rested on the red and blue form kneeling by his side. Who...

He grunted, once.

Just dandy. Go away.

"Max."

Optimus sighed. At least he was alive, but he was a mess. He couldn't just leave him out here.

And then there was the matter of the screams. Max wasn't hurt, but Optimus fairly certain those cries had come from him. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the area.

"Come on then. I need you to wake up." He gave Max a light shake, pinging him again insistently.

"It's not safe to be out here like this."

Yes, that was his name...or part of it, at least. Pit, though, his head hurt, and hearing sound just seemed to make it worse...

He shifted slightly at the shaking, a weak scowl forming over his features. Almost- sullen. As if the halfhearted raise and swat of a hand wasn't saying enough...

Frag safety. Something came along, it'd probably take one look at him and go find something more appetizing.

Frowning as he was swatted away, Optimus finally decided enough was enough. He wouldn't shake him - that was asking for trouble with a bot as obviously drunk as this one, but...

Gripping the large mech by the shoulders, he levered him upright with a single heave, bracing him against a knelt knee to keep him up.

"Fortress Maximus. Wake up."

Motion. Motion was bad. He felt like purging, again, and automatically grabbed on to whatever he could to stabilize himself as his tanks churned in protest. He thought he'd already gotten everything out, but with the traces sneaking up that made him cough once more...

Not a full purge. Remains, then. Still tasted horrible, and he turned his head to spit it out before the voice finally processed.

"...Prime...?"

Optimus leaned away just enough to avoid getting purged on, but otherwise held his ground, frown deepening under his mask. He was hardly an expert on...waste energon, but that mess didn't look right at all.

Calmly, he rested a palm against the ill mech's back.

"Yes. Are you alright?"

The hell was Prime doing here? He was supposed to be...elsewhere. Doing...Prime...things. Not here. Maximus frowned, trying to understand why, but the question...

Despite himself, he chuckled - though it was more of a brief shudder through his frame. "Never...better."

"...You're a terrible liar, Maximus."

Optimus sighed, silently wondering which of the many medics present would be best to sic on a clearly overcharged, purging Fort Max.

"How long have you been out here?"

He was done purging. Surely. Mostly.

Maybe.

Fortress Maximus shifted an arm, managing to get it under him to help brace himself. Unsteady as he was...he could at least lock the joint.

"...dunno. Just...got tired."

"You don't recall at all?" Optimus frowned, shifting his grip to Max's other arm to help him balance. Awkwardly, he rubbed his palm over where it rested on the other mech's back armor.

"What was the last date you clearly remember?"

Contacting the medics was clearly overdue. Silently, he openned a communication line to the various medbays, pinging for fellow Autobots.

Open minded he may be, but ending up with one of the Decepticon medics attending Fort Max would probably not end well.

Ambulon was nearly startled from the transmission, having just finished wrapping up for the night. However, whatever it appeared to be was an emergency. A trusted source, but for a moment he debated... No. He'd be fine. Tarn wasn't going to keep him frightened forever.

Ambulon returned the transmission; quick, just a notification to assure Optimus he was en route.

It was a bit of a jog, sure, but Ambulon moved pretty fast. He just hoped by the time he arrived everything was okay. He followed the coordinates supplied by the transmission and carefully made his way over. Not before replying he made it and was ready with a small medkit.

"Just...not long. Not long, a'right? 'Mfine." He tried a halfhearted push away from the Prime, shaking his head. He knew that much, at least. And continued to insist such, not caring about what day it was, why should he care when there wasn't even a dating scheme he knew of here-

-he didn't even notice as the other approached. He'd grown quiet, giving barely a grunt in response to further probing from Optimus.

He didn't care about much, right now.

Attending Max while they waited only made Optimus' more worried. Perhaps not so much for the Autobot's frame - despite being obviously ill - but for his mind and spark. This was obviously an ongoing issue.

Still. Any concerns there would have to wait in favor of the more immediate problems, and he pinged the medic with a greeting when he spotted him. He wasn't totally familiar with Ambulon, but had heard good reports of his work.

"Ambulon. Thank you for coming so quickly."

Ambulon approached the two. Looked from the sullen, silent Fortress Maximus to the equally stoic Optimus. "I came as fast as I could," he explained. He debated a moment before finally asking Optimus, "What seems to be the problem?" He seemed more inclined to talk. Just... at least get Maximus to warm up to his presence before he went to his actual patient.

Were it not for the fuel, Maximus would likely half fallen offline. He wanted to, all told; at least being in recharge meant he wouldn't have to deal with people.

At least it was someone he recognized. He thought. Voice tugged at his memory core, if nothing else, registering as harmless. So other than another halfhearted motion to try and pull away from Optimus...

Sullen and silent, indeed.

"Of course," he acknowledged, taking a moment to glance down at the largely unresponsive Maximus, reaffirming his grip to keep him upright and in place. He turned back to the medic, shaking his head.

"The worst case of overcharging I've ever personally seen, and I doubt that is the whole of it." He gestured helplessly to the purged mess near his feet, grimacing at the smell of corrosion.

"I don't know how bad it is or how long this has been going on for, but he's barely coherent."

Ambulon's frown tightened at the edges. He examined the expelled waste; from both the scent and coloration, plus Fort Max's general stupor and malaise, it all read as text book system corrosion. He carefully approached the larger Autobot, taking a few moments to examine and evaluate the present external symptoms. Scanners picked up what he could not.

"From what I've gathered in my primarily scan, you appear to be suffering from acute entoxic poisoning. Slipping in and out of conscious, seizures, purging, RAM blackouts, delayed or decrease in your ventilating systems..." Ambulon figured he didn't need to add on the obvious "confused and depressed" symptoms. Then again, he was pretty sure he didn't need to state most of what he said. Still, came with the territory.

"I can't tell you the extent of the damage. Binge consumption is one common cause, but it could also be the corrosion of your filters and tank over time, pushing unprocessed energon out of your enteron tract-pumps into the rest of your system," Ambulon explained. He looked back to Optimus. "We need to get him back to the clinic. I can run a full diagnostic scan, see if we'll need to pump any remaining toxin from his tanks. We'll see if he also needs internal repairs, assuming he hasn't worn down his filters and tract-pumps to sheet metal." He once again turned to Fortress Maximus. "Right now, however, I'd just like to get you to the medbay, flush out your system, and get you properly hydrated again. The... psychological repairs can wait."

Overcharging he could understand. Poisoning he could understand.

About everything else Ambulon said just sort of slurred in to a mess of babble that Fortress Maximus blearily blinked at before abandoning all hope of processing. His processor hurt enough without trying to put that through it, thank you, and quite frankly he wasn't interested in having anything more.

"Jus' leave me 'lone," he mumbled.

Optimus winced as the list went on, glancing between the medic and the ill Autobot on the ground. Fort Max's grumbling was heard, but subsequently disregarded just as quickly.

"...We are not going to leave you here, Max."

He turned back to Amublon with an understanding nod.

"We'll get him back there. I have my trailer - I can haul him and you can start on him as much as you can on the way."

Ambulon nodded. "Right. I'll make sure he remains stable for the ride."

He turned back to Fortress Maximus. "You'll need to stay overnight, maybe tomorrow, for observation," he said. "You may not like it, but it's for the best."

Maximus scowled at the ground, thwarted in his plan to...do...nothing but lie and make nothing of himself. It'd been a good plan, too...and now he was moving?

As he rose his helm to send that scowl to Ambulon, there was a soft beep off to the side- buried under wreckage. Apparently, someone else had heard the sound of travel...

...rather, something. A small drone, uncovering itself, and insistently trying to make its way over to the group.

"Thank you, Ambulon."

Optimus deployed his trailer, ramp already dropped down and interior lit up. Then he pulled Max up to his feet, swigging a heavy arm over his shoulders.

"Come on then, solider. Let's get you inside."

Before he could get very far, Optimus paused in his tracks as he heard the beeping coming from under the debris. It sounded rather familiar.

"...Oh. I'd forgotten about that. Ambulon, could you help it free? It will be coming with us."

"Careful. Your equilibrium chip may be a little off-balance there," Ambulon said, watching Optimus help Fortress Maximus upright.

Oh, and then-- Huh. He shuttered his optics at the sound. "Right," Ambulon mumbled, and moved his way carefully through the debris. Not much to dig up, fortunately, before he carefully pulled the drone free.

Ambulon held it out at arm's length, studying the little beep-booping thing. Without another word, he made his way back to the duo. "We're ready to go when you are," he said, holding that drone like some teddy bear.

Despite his full interest in simply lying there feeling sorry for himself, something in Prime's words had him clumsily finding his feet. Perhaps it was more out of habit than anything else, but somehow - leaning heavily on Optimus - he managed to step.

The drone, for its part, seemed quite pleased, nosing its cannon at Ambulon not-quite-affectionately - if anything, insistently. Where Max went, it went, pure and simply.

"Good. Come on then."

Optimus gave Fort Max a reassuring shoulder slap as he half led, half dragged him up the ramp. Bringing him all the way in to the back of the trailer, where his own drone beeped from his recharge dock, Optimus finally allowed Max to relax, settling him back down against the wall. There were no seats, but cargo restraints built into the floor should suffice.

"Ambulon, the drone can stay in the back with Roller. Help me get Max settled, and we'll be on our way. Upright or laying back?"

The question was directed at them both - the medic would know best, but he also didn't want purged energon seeping into his floors if one or the other made Fort Max woozy again.

Ambulon lingered nearby, watching Optimus settle Max down. He'd help, but, well, drone.

"Sit him upright," Ambulon said. "I don't need him choking on his vomit should he need to purge again." He placed the drone toward the edge of the trailer, then looked to Fort Max. "If you don't like it, I apologize, but lying down is too risky." He didn't sound too apologetic, but this was Ambulon. "And if you do purge, it's unfortunate," he turned to Optimus, "but the mess can be easily cleaned up."

The drone promptly found a place to park itself by the other, apparently content with its new position. Whereas Maximus, though he sagged against the wall readily enough, seeming to relax...

...it was only for a moment before as though on cue he shifted forwards, coughing once. To his credit, nothing came up- not yet. He did raise a hand, as though ready to try and catch anything that came out.

Because that was a wonderful idea.

Optimus made a face (safely hidden away under his mask) and did as he was bid, slipping a strap over Fort Max's lap to hold the poor mech upright.

"I'll leave him to you, Ambulon." Optimus gave Max another firm pat one the shoulder.

"Let me or Roller know if you need anything else."

Prime stepped outside and transformed with an engine rev; a moment later the trailer rattled as he linked up with it. The mentioned drone rolled next to Max and Ambulon with a beep as the ramp to the trailer lifted up and closed.

::Which medbay should I be taking us to?::

Ambulon stared at Roller a moment. Drones riding around in people - he could sort of relate. "Oh," he said, shuttering his optics. He looked up at the trailer's ceiling, as if searching for some sort of audio sensor. "Any place that is close. I migrate between them all, anyway."

He glanced to Fort Max. "How are you feeling?" It may have been a stupid question, but it was still important to ask. "Any dizziness? Feel like you need to purge? You sobering up any, you feel?"

A brief glance towards Optimus as he was handled one final time, then to Ambulon, then to the floor as he slowly - hesitantly - pulled his hand away. There was /something/ on it, something sludgy, but..."Don't think there's anything /left/ to purge," Maximus managed, shaking his head weakly.

Pit, he was tired.

There were a number of sensors strewn all along the trailer; it was as much a part of Optimus as the truck towing it. A number of inlaid lights around the closest receiver flickered in response to the medic's searching.

::Will do.::

And with that, the trailer shock once more as Optimus set off toward the nearest temple. He trusted Ambulon to handle Max while they traveled...but he really hoped Fort Max didn't purge on his floors during the drive. Max's comment was as much reassuring for his inner-cleanliness as it was worrisome for the big mech's health. He increased his pace as soon as he was able.

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CLOSED; that i am just nothing

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Calling Ambulon and Ratchet~

HUFF HUFF I'M HERE /ROLLS IN/

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\o/ WELCOME

WHY THANK YOU SIR

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Notifs where are you lately ;A;

omg cobwebs in my skull

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because i forgot he had this guy in the beginning

Drone bb!

KICK THE BABY

don't kick the baby

;A;

oops too late

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