Buster and Ratchet



Log Title: Buster and Ratchet Characters: Buster, Ratchet Location: Autobot City Date: November 20, 2012 Summary: Ratchet talks to Buster about his writing.

As logged by Buster - Tuesday, November 20, 2012, 12:24 AM -

Drafting Room - Medical Wing - Autobot City

 * The drafting room is Grapple's home away from home here in Autobot City. The center of construction engineering in Autobot

City, this room is filled with plans and models of Autobot City buildings and structures past, present, and future. The walls are adorned with artwork inspired by the dizzying cityscapes of Cybertron, and of a few of the greater metropolises of Earth.


 * Contents:
 * Buster
 * Jetfire

Ratchet is talking with Buster. Ratchet goes for that fabled SECOND shot of quality energon. "See, the thing that strikes me most about Nick is this fallacy that he's a reliable narrator in 'Gatsby'. What are we going on? We have his word. Of COURSE he's going to be the most likable, heroic character..."

Buster chuckles. Once he got past the whole giant-robot thing, he really warmed up to Ratchet, who's a lot more fun off-duty than on.

Ratchet gives a bemused smirk to Buster. "For all we know, Daisy may be the most intelligent, likable character out of them all, but Nick just had a cruel vendetta against her."

Buster, for his part, sticks to coffee. "It's a good point," he agrees, amused at the bizarre idea of having this conversation with a tipsy alien robot.

Ratchet says in a slightly slurred tone, but not butchering any words "The parties before the war, Buster - you should have seen them. They make Gatsby's ... seem like something that would be held in a community center!"

Buster says, "I... I honestly can't even imagine."

Ratchet says casually "You would have fit in great - I've read your writings - you have a gift..." He holds his small, cubed container of energon and gives Buster a quizzical look. "Speaking of which... I've been wondering... why haven't YOU written about your experiences with us?"

Buster says, "Me? Well... I know Spike has been journalling all his life, and I feel this is really HIS story. He's the one who grew up with you all, not me. I'd just be cashing in on the Witwicky name, writing a tell-all about how it feels to be left behind when your family goes to war with heroic robots."

Ratchet takes a sip and looks at Buster thoughtfully. "It'd be TRUE then..." He adds "Yes, Spike could write a...serviceable account. But he's like a journalist. A journalist isn't an artist! You..." He points at Buster, "What you could do - is put that down - all of it. Your hurt, your anger, hopefully now... you acceptance that we aren't all... what you thought we were." Ratchet takes another sip.

Ratchet says, "Spike could... make a really good newspaper article about his life here." He points at Buster, "You...old sport - could write a NOVEL."

Buster considers it. "True. But my whiny navelgazing, however well-written, isn't what the world should hear. They should hear it straight from Spike's mouth - he who lived through it, stood up to robots and aliens hundreds of times his size... he's the brave one. If I could convince him to publish, my skills would be better served to help him turn his notes into the most unique autobiography the world's ever seen."

Ratchet shakes his head. "That's very thoughtful, ol' chum, but I disagree. I think a well-written novel about a human's struggle to find him or herself - can be more exciting than any... adventure or intergalactic tale."

Buster says, "Well, true. Maybe after I convince Spike to tell his tale, I'll tell mine. Lord knows I have a million single-spaced typed notes out there, waiting for editing." he smiles.

Ratchet nods and leans back. "Buster, Spike's going to be so busy with the medical tests I'm going to give him, I HOPE he won't have time for a book." He looks over at Buster, "Sometimes...and I think now is the right time - you may need to emerge from a rather large shadow - and forge your own identity."

Buster smirks. "Ratchet, I've been trying to do that my whole life... run from you guys, my identity as a Witwicky..."

Ratchet says with a tinge of bitterness, "And so what if some people think it's whiney. If everyone likes something - I guarantee - it's crap." He smirks at Buster, "You make those words authentic and true - everything else will take care of itself."

Buster grins crookedly. "If I decide I have something to say, I'll definitely say it. Thanks, Ratchet."

Ratchet grins sagely "You do have something to say, old sport."

Buster says, "Well, you guys managed to save my manuscripts AND my old typewriter from the floodwaters, so I guess I should do something with them eventually."

Ratchet shrugs and says nonchalantly "You have a few months before American classes start up again - it would be a wonderful time."

Buster grins. "Alright, alright. I need to figure out what I'm doing with my doctoral thesis, anyway. Maybe I can find a way to work it in. I'm way behind on my November writing, anyway."

Ratchet nods and goes back to his work study. "Just be honest - the rest will fall into place. Thanks again for your company -"

Buster says, "Same here. I love helping out. Thanks for giving a poor Luddite like me a chance."