Ratchet watched Rigel warily, all too aware of the weapon’s sharpness. No doubt Warpath and everyone else in charge of the armory kept everything in there ready to use - which included making certain the ax blade was able to cut through metal once it was sufficiently activated.

But sparklings weren’t that tough, so she pulled the weapon away from Rigel when she felt his servo jerk against it, the softer metal of his palm split and leaking.

Damn. She should have been watching him more carefully. Her fault.

Though Warpath would also get an audioful later. She would make sure of that.

Warpath took the ax without a word while Ratchet pulled a clean mesh cloth from her subspace and pressed it to the cut.

"Hold your hand up. Above your main fuel pump," she instructed, lifting him up off the floor. "Warpath, make sure that’s cleaned and put back, will you?"

All attention focused on Rigel, she walked quickly from the armory and back toward sickbay.

"I’ve got you. It’s an easy repair. Just keep that cloth in place."

His attention so focused on the stuff in his palm, he hardly noticed being swooped up into strong arms and the large servo that pressed a cloth to his own. As the world spun back up to speed, he blinked and without question shot his arm straight up in the air, well above his fuel pump. It didn’t hurt as bad as he’d thought.

"Why was it th’ same color as what we refuel with?" He asked plainly, looking up to Ratchet then over the orange and white shoulder as the armory shrank away. "W-Wait I wasn’t done lookin’ at stuff!"

Where the hell have you been?

« Dad n’ ‘Lita One n’ Prowl a’r still fixin’ everything. »



{{ All I did was nudge it with a pede! }}

{{ I swear, I barely touched it and it just- }} | Splatter noise | {{ -all over the wall. }}

He’s mimicking a particular mech’s frown, whether he realizes it or not.

« You gotta be careful ‘round junk like Anons. They’re… Weird but little. »

Rigel- sorted datapads alphabetically, please note 'Art of War' is slightly too advanced reading for a mechling your age.



"I’m sure we can find time to teach you," Ratchet said, though she scowled at Warpath’s back when Rigel caught onto what he’d been saying. Warpath wasn’t really known for keeping his words to himself.

"Is clearly still attached."

She kissed the top of his helm and came to a stop as Warpath hefted the energon axe off the wall and twirled it until the handle was offered to Ratchet.

"Thinking of picking it back up again? I’d say you were better off with the blaster," Warpath said as Ratchet lowered Rigel down to the floor to take the ax.

"The handle was different on mine," she said and crouched down so Rigel could see the double-headed weapon a bit better, "and no weapons for me anymore, Warpath."

"Your loss. Rigel, I’ll show you my cannon on the range sometimes. Most accurate weapon of its size and hell of a noise too. KABLAAM!" His voice echoed in the room and Ratchet flinched.

A face was made at the kiss out of habit while he listened to the two mech talk. When his pedes touched the ground the mechling made a hop-skip away from the towering figures until Ratchet knelt back to him. No touching, he remembered that part.

But… It was so…

Rigel’s servo hovered over the metal, optics locked on the head of the axe as he followed the curves and geometric lines that made up the weapon. It reminded him of the stuff he had seen on his Feed, and while his carrier spoke, he reached out to place the flat of his hand on the head itself. But then came the loud, reverberating mimic of an explosion and he dragged his servo back as quickly as he could.

Blinking when the sound finally died, his shoulder’s hiked up as the sensors finally registered the pain on his hand.

"…Ah-" His optics went wide at the sight of a gash through the seams of his palm, and the building puddle of slightly green energon pooling in his servo. "Dad?"

Don't worry about being small. I'm sure you'll grow bigger in the future

Maybe… I ain’t worried ‘bout it! Who said I was?!


M’ not little.

"Hi Rigel! How are you?"




[instant kneeling and smiling and he’s not sure what to do with his servos because hugs don’t really work but-]


“Really? Well, you know what this means, right? You’re just gonna have to stick around to see all the leaves change colours! It’s really a magnificent sight! And once all the leaves start to fall and you can rake them all up and jump in the piles!”

"That’s gotta be a big pile," he stated, looking down at himself before rocking back on the ‘balls’ of his feet. "Do they always do that? The changin’ thing."


Guiltaur is quietly rolling his optics on the other end.

«Yeah…that sounds like “fun”, I guess. If you’re into that kind of stuff. My creator probably doesn’t think it’s that important since we haven’t gone any of that in my studies.»

« Studies? Whatcha learnin’ ‘bout? An’ I jus talk to m’ human friends… An’ look around on th’ DataNet. »

Humans are too, important. Or they wouldn’t have talked to them… Right?

"I know we do not speak much, and you may still have a vendetta against me, but I am still proud of you; and it has been a blessing to have you as a son."

… O-Oh. M’kay.

I guess.