Transformers Prime: Convergence is a plot and character-development driven roleplay forum based upon canon material of TFP and RiD, but incorporates characters, elements, and plotlines from various other continuities to craft a unique story. Our community is welcoming, laid back, and dedicated to making each roleplay experience a good one.
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After yet another fight in his dorms back at the group home, following his failing of yet another math test, he just needed to get out of town for a bit. He'd hitched a ride on a taxi to get down as far as he could to come to base, the one place he found solace. Rather than go and bug Ratchet though, he decided quickly against that. He had his own sparkling around to deal with than listen to his problems right now.
So instead he decided to go to the rec room to see what the other 'Bots were up to. There was really never a dull moment on Autobot Outpost Omega-1 so he was sure he'd find something to do at least. "Soooo... Anybody home?" he simply managed rather nonchalantly as he entered the room.
Wandering, tiny pedes pattered against the floor of the rec room. Curious blue optics fixed on the human who had been calling out for attention. She herself seemed to be approximately the same height as a teenage human or adult human, and her every little feature seemed to scream that one day she would be a fine jet.
But for now she was a tiny jet without all her colors or plating.
She seemed to suck on the knuckle of her thumb digit gently, giving him a curious look, unaware of the pedes thundering behind her.
"Sagitta, where are you?!" Pharma squawked. His optics were wide while he tromped into the rec room. "Sagitta? Sa--Sagitta, there you are, I was worried!"
He seemed to immediately scoop her up. His optics were still quite wide and his vents still cranking quickly for a moment. It took a moment before he realized what she had been curious about. A human. An organic native.
"Hello. My apologies, didn't mean for Sagitta to run off and possibly startle you." His tone seemed rollicking and gentle. Faint traces of his old Vosian accent were in his voice even now. "I'm Pharma, and this is Sagitta. She's harmless...I-I promise."
Dylan was definitely surprised by Saggita but hardly in a bad way.
Having grown up in multiple different foster homes with multiple younger foster siblings he’d grown to like kids. Sometimes better than adults. And from what he could see this was definitely a kid. Especially as she was so small. Simply smiling, he gave a little wave. “Hey there! You look kinda young to be out on your own. Your parents know that you’re...?”
He quickly got his answer at the shouting of a nearby mech. He didn’t have much of a time to reply before Pharma showed up. He took in the response and scolding with a light smile. At least she had someone looking after her after all. “Hey, no sweat! She was totally fine, she could have gone crazy for all I cared. I got twenty kids under age ten back at my group home, so,” he piped up a bit at the mention of his name. “Oh hey, you’re Pharma! Ratchets mentioned you a couple of times.”
Of course given he was sort of mentored by the mech, he’d heard of him a time or two. And thus he felt a bit more willing to trust this guy then he might any other mech that walked in. “Nice to meet you finally, I’m Dylan.”
Sagitta gave a pout and a chirp when she was grabbed up by Pharma. She didn't dare bite her carrier; he wasn't trying to kill her or hurt her by any stretch of the imagination. He was just making a big deal out of her little wandering! Her little wings wriggled with frustration. Her little pedes kicked.
Her little optics started welling up with tears before the human spoke up. Her tears paused and she listened curiously, unaware that Pharma was adjusting his arms around her.
"Lan-lan." She chirped. It appeared she had suddenly given Dylan a nickname. She nuzzled into Pharma a little, as though having forgiven him.
Pharma gave a stern look for a moment, but then relaxed. She was safe. Safe, sound, not about to be hurt. He then sighed with relief and flitted his wings eagerly, giving a bright and cheerful look.
"Oh, thank Primus. I was just worried that she was starting to get too curious." He would start wriggling his digits for Sagitta and chuckling when she seemed to go from frustrated to absolutely cheerful. He then wriggled his digits to tickle against her tiny cockpit and gave a soft smile. "Wait, you know me?" The mention of Ratchet made his expression soften. "Now THAT makes sense. I take it he told mostly good things?"
"Dylan, huh?" He tilted his helm. "From what Ratchet's said...I expected you to be a little more of a...wild-child-looking kid...like a human Wheeljack." He gave a hearty chuckle, his optics flitting with a hint of a cheerful yellow before flicking back to blue.
Dylan gave a slight smile at the young Cybertronian. Giving a nod of his head, he’d had nicknames like that a few times before so he didn’t mind it. Most people knew him by “Dyl” anyway, but a few of the kids had sometimes said “Lan”, so “Lan-Lan” was pretty easy to get used to. “Hey they can never be too curious. Unless they go running to a Decepticon, right? Since I take it that they learn like us. Through exploring,” he pointed out with a grin.
Good things? Well of course Ratchet has said good things to him about Pharma. How he regarded him as his adoptive father, how he’d mentored him. A lot about how his mentoring influenced Ratchet to be who he was today. Which was a guy Dylan liked, so he considered that a positive. “Yeah, a lot of good,” he explained. “Guess I should kind of thank you. If you’re who made Ratchet the way he is, he’s a pretty awesome guy.”
Wait... Ratchet had mentioned him? He felt his heart swell a bit. Sure he’d mentioned his wilder side, but he still talked about him to someone important in his life. And the fact he meant anything like that to anyone, especially Ratchet, well. He couldn’t help but feel happy. “I’m more surprised Ratchet mentioned me at all. I’m usually the guy people avoid talking about,” he admitted. “And I mean he isn’t wrong, I’m kinda on the wild side, even if he tries to tame me. Doesn’t mean I’m like that 24/7 though.”
He then added as he watched him faun over his daughter. “So Ratchets got a daughter and sister now? His family just keeps getting bigger. Lucky guy.”
Pharma couldn't help but smile in spite of himself. "True, true. I mean, I suppose I'm a little jumpy considering the circumstances. You couldn't have known." Circumstances? He wanted to be vague. He didn't want anyone knowing yet that his daughter had a Decepticon sire and probably didn't see the harm in the same kind of monster who had sired her, nor that monster's pet.
It still surprised him that there were bots in the universe who didn't call him the "scourge of Delphi Medical Center". Bots that didn't tell him he was "never that good of an Autobot". Who didn't tell others that were to meet him or had met him that they were being deceived. "I helped mold him into the good mech he is. I can't take all the credit, as much as I wish." It was him being honest, not modest. He didn't have as much modesty as folks liked to think he had.
He furrowed his optical ridges. "To someone he cares about, he'll tell so much. Because he knows how much I've been left out of so much..." His voice almost seemed to choke up and he slowly lowered himself to his knees. He gently lowered Sagitta to the floor as though relaxing enough to let her free, emotional in the moment. It was surprising that for a moment she stayed latched to him.
"H-he is lucky. But...he deserves it after what he's gone through."
Sagitta tilted her helm in confusion. What were these two talking about? She knew a little bit of what they were talking about. Ratchet she knew because he was a big brother. Because he was nice and cuddled her and talked to her and called her smart.
However, she noticed quickly the change that her carrier's face took and tried to pat on it gently. Her tiny digits curled around one of his hands, even when her tiny pedes touched the floor. He was sad, she could tell he was sad. He was always sad a lot.
"Lan-Lan lucky?" She seemed to ask curiously, looking between the two of them, her optics not quite possessing that flicker of emotional color that her carrier's had yet. "Gita lucky?" Actually she wasn't even sure what lucky was. She wanted to know if she and Dylan were though.
Dylan didn’t know what he meant by that but he did understand in a way. He nodded his head putting his hands in his pockets as he looked up at the mech. “At least you care about her enough to be that way. Back when I was her age my dad was deciding whether to kill me I think,” he then added. “Can’t say I blame you being jumpy either. People in the world suck, better to be jumpy and protective than none of that.” He did however take notice of the older mechs change in demeanor.
“Well you did a damn good job. If he’s turned into a good enough mech he’d want to mentor me,” he then added jokingly. “My social worker said that would take a saint.”
He supposed that was true too. A lot of people confided in those they cared about. He’d already confided a few things in Ratchet for example. Who was one of the few that knew the details of his life. However vague he made some of them. “Yeah probably because they’re easier to talk to. They understand better...”
He was about to reply to the last part when Sagitta asked the innocent and cute question. That made it harder for Dylan to think of an answer. He wasn’t exactly the prime example of lucky in the way they were talking about. Often he figured he’d drawn the short straw in life in that sense but how did he put that to a small child? He didn’t exactly want to crush her with the idea not everyone got lucky in how their life turned out.
He pursed his lips and with as wide a smile as he allowed added. “Yeah, you’re definitely lucky kid. You’ve got an awesome family too,” he then finished in a way that he felt would at least help in keeping her view of the world good. “I’m... I’m lucky in different ways.” Which wasn’t all a lie. He could be on the streets or dying of starvation in a third world country after all.
Sagitta seemed to burble in confusion. Tiny wing panels flicked slightly while she tried to process everything they were saying. However, it wasn't as easy as it seemed. They were talking things way too grown up for a little femmeling who had no idea about bad people just yet.
And what was a "saint" anyway? Could she eat that?
She tilted her helm. Different? What was different? She didn't know what way he was differently lucky but she tried. She tried very much to understand.
But something else hit her mind.
"Papa sad?" She didn't know why but she wanted to help him. But what if Dylan was sad too? "Lan-lan sad?" She had a stern and worried look, almost as though a mother or a medic already, when she was barely a couple weeks old. It was telling of who she was in her little newly-burning spark.
"I don't think I can ever stop caring about her either." He whispered, a tear sliding down his face. "And you're not wrong. Decepticons especially suck. I...have too much firsthand experience in that without even being a true combat medic or a spy." He felt his voice dropping a few octaves while he had spoken that statement. After all, he'd survived Delphi, he'd survived the Nemesis, and, frankly, he was tired of being the universe's favorite sacrificial lamb to the Decepticons. He had half a mind to sometimes throw someone like Prowl or that arrogant crossbow mech who had let Jazz kidnapp Ratchet to the Decepticons.
A small smile crossed his features. "He practically is a saint." His optics seemed to have a dark blue tint for a moment. "He dealt with me being a stark-raving lunatic."
He seemed to blink slightly, his optics flitting between that dim blue, a darker indigo, and their neutral blue. "Sometimes too well. Enough to scare you with how much they understand." His body language seemed to convey those hints of anxiety.
A faint smile crossed his features when Dylan had found a way not to crush her spirit. "Maybe...one day he'll be lucky in your way, my little arrow-star." His voice seemed soft and sentimental for a moment. He then paused. He hadn't noticed how well a child could sometimes pick up on things.
But here his own daughter was noticing his hints of sadness.
"Sometimes things make some of us very sad. It's not your fault, Sagitta." He hugged her gently. "Nor your fault. Don't feel like it's your fault, Dylan. Life...life is sometimes cruel, and the great spectrum Primus lights for us can't always be the bright and cheerful colors of warmth."
Dylan mostly nodded in agreement, thankful to see that there were good parents in the world. Frankly he wondered sometimes if there were with how many had given up on him and cast him aside like some throwaway item. His social worker was already looking to send him to foster home #21 to be exact. “I’m sorry you had to deal with Decepticons that bad. If they make you feel sad enough to feel that way. I uh.. I can imagine it was bad.”
Dylan smirked a little as Pharma called Ratchet a saint. “I guess in a way he is. After all he did find some way to forgive me for giving him that paint job when we met,” he explained. “Either way he’s pretty cool. I owe a lot to him, including his friendship.”
Again he mostly nodded at Pharma’s next statement. But it was the one about his own luck changing that actually... Did make Dylan sad. He hadn’t even realized he felt a tear go down himself until he pushed it away. Yeah, he’d given up on a family a long time ago. Maybe at one time he’d daydreamed about Ratchet somehow taking him - but now he had his own family and he didn’t want to butt in. But he still, in the deepest part of him longed to be looked at by someone as lovingly and gently as Pharma did his own kid.
At the same time, however, he had, in his own way, accepted he probably would always be an orphan.
Dylan listened closely to Pharma’s wise words though. Something that utterly surprised him, not many would tell him something like that. And in a way it did give him a little comfort. And maybe a little hope he was right. “Yeah, it’s... Ok to be sad sometimes,” he told Sagitta. “Hey you know what cheers me up though?”
Dylan set his backpack down, digging in for his art supplies. He grinned a little. “I like to do art. I know it’s kind of silly, but it’s kind of how I’m “lucky”,” he explained. “I especially like doing Cybertronians. I even did one of your brother, you see?” He pointed out as he flipped to a page in his sketch book where he’d (covertly) drawn Ratchet to show Stagitta what he meant.
He vented softly. "I wish I could do more for you though. You sound like you've been through Hell and Delphi Medical Center, though I hear those are interchangeable."
"He's amazing. I think that's why he started out as one of my favorite students and eventually became...sort of a son to me." He swallowed softly, his gaze drifting to Dylan in much the same way he looked to Ratchet. Like a son. Like someone who mattered. Like someone he wished he could help in some way if only to make up to the universe, to Primus and the Primes and the Guiding Hand, for everything he'd ever done.
He tried to peek, himself, surprised and excited. "I wish I could cope that way. Left-handers like me have more trouble drawing without smudging it though..."
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altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
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