Queen's notes: Heeeeeeeeh... time to wake up.
From the Depths
Steady
It was the hands that had Jazz's attention, he was standing beside the strange mech. Black metal touched silver as listened to Ratchet, studding the build of the hand, the thick, three fingers and thumb. How it seemed blunted like his own hands but the lines on the end that meant, or rather Jazz suspected that it meant this mech had retractable claws. He glanced up at Ratchet and Prowl, then back down to finish his own quiet exam of the beast former. Taking in the whole build that was streamlined for being and moving underwater, but he was thick in the joints and limbs, able to support those heavy pectoral wings and likely more.
"He looks like a shock trooper." Jazz noted as he sensed Optimus staring expectantly at his Third. The black and white turned his visor up to meet dark indigo optics, "The way he's built, I'd bet my last few cubes of Iacon-Golden high grade he could go rounds with ya Prime. Maybe even have the endurance ta out last more than beat, but still..."
"That is quite the bet, even from you." Prowl noted as he shifted his attention to spot what Jazz must have.
The Prime hummed softly, a habit of his when thinking but not yet willing to share his thoughts. Ratchet and Jazz both looked up at him for a moment, yet Optimus still didn't say anything
"Hopefully we don't have ta test the bet." Jazz shrugged, and reached out, lightly stroking the long beast mode tail of the blue mech. Feeling the muscle cables and multi-joints under the flex metal like hide, and remembering what Wheeljack said, made a mental note to keep an eye on this thing. As the tail felt strong under his fingers, "More so with that pain tolerance."
"Are you sure something wasn't blocked? It seems unlikely anyone could tolerate that treatment..." Prowl started, looking over at Ratchet and faltered at the look of promised death from the medic, a look normally reserved for other far more trouble making members of the ship's crew rather than him. It was also that look of concentrated death worthy of the Un-Maker that could back Decepticons out of Ratchet's medical bay or tucked away alcove on a battle field.
As there was a splash in the oil tank, drawing Optimus' attention but Prowl remained rooted, caught in that death look. Wheeljack glanced over as well but like Prime he was safe from the medic's looming, "Prowl, that wasn't the case, the mech's fame started booting him up as soon as he reached an energon saturation point. This mech's tolerance is greater than I've ever seen, he didn't react at all Prowl. We were monitoring and recording."
"Could be an advantage." Jazz said, and then lifted his hands as Ratchet shifted his attention to him, "It would."
"Just from his physical condition, this mech has been to the pit and back, starved and the sheer amount of scarring," Ratchet started, waving a red hand at the blue and silver frame on the modified berth to support him. "That doesn't give us an idea of his mental state after such tramas and isolation."
"He was calm before." Prowl said, but not so much as an argument but more as a half question.
"That might have been more that he couldn't move much?" Optimus tilted his head to Wheeljack from where he stood with fingers in the small oil tank. The light blue shark drone was curling around his digits to get attention, enjoying the feeling of its sides and pectoral fins being pet again after such a very long time. Optimus smiled under his battle mask as the other gray remora rose to bumped against his finger tips aswell, to him at least, with a drone of his own, it said to him at least that this mech was kind to his companions. The Prime had learned a lot about drones, or rather learned about their host mecha by how they were treated. Those drones with cruel masters were shy of mecha, any mecha, and flinched or went taught with they were touched.
Yet those that actively sought after attention from others showed Optimus that the mechs they looked too could be kind to those most Cybertronians considered lesser then them. Including feral mecha or organic fauna, and even organic sentient beings like humans... These two drones seem healthy, mentally linked to this strange mech yet given freedom to learn.
Optimus approved.
The engineer shook his head, "He could move, at least partly, maybe not stand up but he was moving his tail freely." Wheeljack sighed as he ran a hand over one side of his helm, starching lightly at the base of his panel as it flickered a little dully. "For what it's worth Optimus, the mech feels more like... Ironhide or Kup. At least to me."
"Bring him out of stasis." Optimus' voice rumbled out, still giving the two small drones soft petting stokes down their backs and around the base of their fins.
"Are you sure Optimus?" Prowl frowned at the beast former before looking up.
Dark indigo optics regarded him, glanced at Jazz before nodding to Ratchet.
The white and red mech sighed, motioning Jazz to step back out of the way, the mech jumping up to sit on the next berth and pulled his legs up. Ratchet knew the mech well enough that Jazz was getting into a position to pounce if need be while he started to bring the new mech online and up to where he can regain consciousness more naturally. "I'm not going to bring him up suddenly." He said, shaking his head, not with the traumas the beast-former likely had.
"That's fine old friend, we can have patience's." the Prime assured looking back down at the remora done that was innocently cleaning his fingers, while the shark nudged in to his palm.
Prowl sighed, looking over at the drones in the small tank, noting the craving for attention they were displaying from the gentle Autobot leader. "any idea how long it might be?"
"It can be soon or a local day." Wheeljack shrugged.
Noting how the drones stiffened suddenly under his hand, Optimus chuckled, "Sooner than you think," He glanced over at the still mech then down at the drones, the shark turning slightly while the remora peered up at him, "Hello." He greeted, but not to the drone again. "We have no intentions of hurting you, or your lovely drones."
Jazz looked over at Optimus, frowning at first before turning at the sound of something sliding and moving. The long tail of the beast-former was moving off the berth where it had been put, dropping to dangle over the edge. The Third watched it still then move, the end curling around ratchet's right leg.
The medic peered down at the tail around his ankle for a long few moments before moving, stepping slow so not to walk on the tail. The grip notable loosened as he moved from the equipment that could put the beast former into a medical stasis again. "I won't put you under as long as you're calm and take it easy." Ratchet said as large red optics flickered on.
A low rumbling, almost rasping sound came from the blue and silver mech as he started to really move. The sound had Jazz and Wheeljack wincing, the medic twitched but let the mech work out the stasis stiffness in his way. The red optics looked around, the mech lifting his head a little but still seemed aware of exactly where everyone was, likely still the drones as Ratchet didn't know how to dampen that connection, nor did he feel that he would.
The beast former gave would could be called a cough, than again as he flexed his legs, peds, and then started moving his shoulders and arms next. The massive wing like pectorals unfolded fully, arching out with the movement of his back while the long tail loosened and flexed almost on its own accord. His large hands gripped the edges of the berth before lifting, making fists then spreading the fingers out, one hand lifting to the beast mode head and eye like optics to check them.
Ratchet reached out, offering a hand as the to beast former started to move, then the medic had to brace himself to support and help the blue mech to sit up. He was still heavy but shifted the pectoral wings to brace himself on them so the berth wouldn't have to be adjusted. Rumbling a reverberating like growl, the beast former shook his head before looking carefully at each mech. He stared longer at Jazz and Optimus, the mech's movements though a little stiff, there was still a distinct pattern. He was moving like a predator Ratchet realized a bit belatedly, honing in on the possible threats, smooth and quick, with strength coiling inside the thick frame.
Optimus rumbles softly, drawing attention to himself as the Prime drew his hand back, drying the oil on a cloth, but it was enough to focus the new mech. The Prime would guess he was shifting through the memories of the drones before the red optics flickered and looked up to meet dark blue with a tilted head. "Welcome to the Ark."
The blue and sliver mech tilted his head the other way, looking down at a hand then was extended as Optimus came over. He stared and after a half klik reached out to take it.