#subt

[sublecturas]

“Ningún lugar adonde ir”, de Jonas Mekas

[movieboxprofanhub]

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[lascitasdelashoras]

Jorge Mario Bergoglio, viajando en subte en Buenos Aires, Semana Santa de 2008, foto de Pablo Legu

[dailycupofcreativitea]

Doodle that evolved into "ready for Krillin's wedding" maybe 🤔

[grrrechka]

Just played mcsm

[bencan-t]

Love that the official Buenos Aires subway Instagram acct posted this photo of pre-papacy Jorge lookin sick AF on the Subte

[la-de-los-ojos-abiertos]

Último tren a Alem

[perdidoenlaciudad]

Toda...

[sublecturas]

"Kafka en la orilla", de Haruki Murakami, y "El castillo", de Franz Kafka

[seducestroy]

Plaza de Mayo (Subte de Buenos Aires)

[si-no-lo-muestro-no-existe]

Línea B 2024 🎞️Kodak Vision 3 500T

[conspirartist]

Hey guys, I come to you with another oc: this time you're meeting IronPatcher, a gentle giant ColorPicker took under her wing all the way back in Kaon.

Soft sparked, mild tempered and used to doing the most out of very little. More often than not this meek doctor is doing his job under less than ideal circumstances and yet those who end up under his care rarely seem inclined to trust another bot with their health.

Same with ColorPicker this got long so backstory under the cut.

The youngest of a large group of miners in Kaon, was mostly raised within the mines. A shy sparkling name IronJaw, back then (a designation chosen to reference his tusk-like bottom teeth, a feature that had many of the older bots cooing over his smiles).

Living mostly underground had its own risks - between accidents, lack of proper care and blatant abuse at the servos of higher-ups injuries and sickness were frequent companions.

IronJaw was still a child when what seemed to be a simple case of rust rash spread out through the mines and took out almost half of the workers there. The young bot himself developed some rather painful rashes around his optics, much to his caretakers' worry (at least those who were left from them).

It was at that time that SoothingWind joined them. The doctor's presence serving the dual purpose of preventing more workers from being lost to the mystery sickness and as punishment to the flier who apparently messed with some documentation to allow for a laborer mech to study under him.

The epidemic ended up being controlled, the medic tracing its source back to a shipment of contaminated supplies (which would come to cost the seeker years underground with the miners, the information too fresh to leave the mines).

IronJaw's optics survived the illness, but there was very little to be done about the scars the rust left behind.

For a short while their community thrived, the presence of a doctor helping ease some of the ever present ailments of the mines. But a single doctor wasn't enough for their numbers and being kept underground for so long started to affect the medic's own health.

If asked he wouldn't be able to tell when SoothingWind first taught him how to solder a small cut shut, but little by little the flyer taught him how to care for his fellow miners.

By the time he hit the growing spurts of his adolescence the mines' doctor had smuggled him enough data packs on medical care IronJaw could've been one of his students all the way back in Crystal City.

It was around that time that the seeker's condition got to a point so crytical he and a few other miners decided to try and take the flyer outside (catatonic at one moment and violently self destructive in the next, hitting the cave walls a his need for flight overrode any logical thinking).

They got caught (SoothingWind's sentence was declared over the same cycle, the mines once more left without a doctor), IronJaw sent to the arena after refusing to name all those who helped in the plan.

If the mines were cruel the gladiator pit were something else entirely. He tried to yield his first fight, just to be drugged and have his protocols tampered with.

If mercy withing the arena was denied, he could still wield it outside - he patched his fellow gladiators, he showed kindness when there were none to be found all around.

And when he had the rare chance to walk the city streets (always under the watchful optics of the matches' organizers) he met ColorPicker, the old fenme with a mischievous smile and quick wit.

And then came Megatron and his talk of freedom and he listened and he caught a glimpse of a Cybertron never even allowed himself to dream about.

And he kept meeting the old mod artist, she talked about her own doctor and the fate he met (he wondered if their doctors would've been good friends if given the chance: his not quite creator and her conjunx) about the bots she met, about the good cycles of her own almost forgotten childhood.

And then revolution broke out and they wanted him to carve his future with a blade (always a blade). He ended up at ColorPicker's door instead, she covered his rust scars in shimmering white paint (she drew a red line across the bridge of his nose, he remembers describing the exact same marking on SoothingWind's face to her).

There's something proud and incredibly fond on her optics when she declared he now looks the part of a damn good medic. When she asks how she should call him from now on, the answer slips without tought: IronJaw was raised in Kaon, IronPatcher leaves it on his stead.

[lascitasdelashoras]

Bob Mazzer

[bairesbaires]

[sheliach]

La Noche de los Museos  Por Flickr: Vagón La Brugeoise de la Línea A restaurado. El primer subte que tuvo Buenos Aires y el primer viaje se realizó en 1913.- Actualmente este vagón está en exhibición y no presta servicio.-

[livelovecaliforniadreams]