So Tarn walks into a Bar...

[sparkwhisperer]

Who: Tarn and You
Where: the NEW Maccadams Old Oil House
When: right now
What: Tarn tries to make some new friends
Warnings: None :0

It has been weeks since Tarn’s fight with Megatron and he has kept himself as scarce as possible, nursing his wounds, and even more recently, his broken pride. Spending his days mostly alone has begun to wear heavily upon him, too ashamed by his recent fall from the Decepticons to face most of the mechs in the base.

The bare patch on his chassis still jars him when he glances down at it.

Still, he can’t help but think about what Sixshot told him. He can’t hide forever, and the longer he waits the more the Autobots will think that they have won. A change of tactics does seem to be in order.

Tarn has wandered from the base still wearing his scars from the battle and hobbled by a slight limp; but otherwise at nearly full strength. Heading deep into the city, the DJD Commander begins his search for any flicker of civilization in the vast, crumbling, nearly desolate city. He wants to be seen. To let it be known that he is done hiding and won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. They will be forced to face him whether they want to or not.

Before long he stumbles upon a small establishment, clearly Autobot owned. Maccadams, it seems, has made it to even this Cybertron. He isn’t surprised; though as he approaches the door he does note a small sign clearly stating ‘No Tarns’ in bold lettering. A Deep booming guffaw rips from him before he quickly tamps it down, muffling his chuckling by clearing his throat. Tarn straightens his back, lifting his head and purposefully ignores the sign. The former Decepticon pushes the door open and steps confidently into the dim lighting of the bar.

This can only go well.

Comments

[aminerproblem]

Megatron very much takes note of Tarn's humbled body language, and eases up a little once he takes a seat at the counter. It looks like his point had it's intended effect, though he's not ready to let the soldier off the hook just yet.

"Nautica's busy," he retorts curtly, not seeing any issue with taking up her shift,"And the clinic has enough help for the time being."

Taking out a canister of the brewed engex, he attaches it to the tap with a light thunk, before looking up at the ex-Decepticon again,"I'm not going to banish you from enjoying any part of your life, Tarn. You can order something if you keep to your word."

[sparkwhisperer]

"I intend to."

Tarn's voice is even as he watches Megatron prepare the engex tap from the corner of his eye. His body language is still somewhat withdrawn, hesitant to say the wrong thing or make a wrong move, lest he make the situation even worse.

"I hope I can make steps towards making amends. I am willing to try to learn."

[aminerproblem]

Megatron watches him, an immovable judge sitting at the other end of that countertop. He has to think on what to do. He was hoping Tarn would start to change his views, but now that he'd actually seemed to be showing it, he was unsure whether to be harsh or forgiving. There's a grumble from his engine.

His voice is solemn,"If you mean that - if you're truly intent on changing yourself for the better,"

He looks down at the tap, filling up about 1/3rd of a glass with cooled engex,"You still have a lot of work to do to undo the damage you've caused over the course of the war. But I'm glad for you. This is a step in the right direction."

He finally makes eye contact with Tarn,"How do you like this prepared?"

[sparkwhisperer]

Excellent. Tarn smiles behind his mask, willing a trustworthy warm glow into his normally cold optics. Earning back Megatron's trust will be a long and undoubtedly mentally trying road, but Tarn is confident that not all has been lost. Megatron just needs the right push with a gentler guiding hand than he had previously thought.

"It will be difficult yes, but ultimately worth it in the end." Tarn pauses as he considers his drink of choice. He finds the concept of asking Megatron to make anything for him... Uncomfortable. The station of bartender is so far beneath him that the experience just seems surreal. Like the sort of bizzare dream that one might experience a after consuming spoiled energon. None the less he is in no position to be telling his old leader what he should and should not be doing.

"On ice, please. With a straw."

[aminerproblem]

He's unresponsive to the warming expression behind the ex-Decepticon's mask. Tarn will need to line up his actions with his words before he gets anything more than begrudging tolerance.

But Tarn gets his order, at least, straw and all, after Megatron checks the state of the newly brewed engex he had plugged in. Nautica was still working out the formula and treatment.

He sits back after setting it next to a purple hand, keeping an eye on the entirety of the bar.

[sparkwhisperer]

"Thank you." Tarn accepts the drink, holding it in his hands for a moment. He can smell the sweet aroma instantly, worlds better than the sort of metallic sour smell of the energon from Spinister's refinery. As he takes his first sip his eyes dim in pleasure.

The engex isn't excellent, but compared to the swill that he's been drinking since he got here, it tastes like the finest vintage. He takes a few dainty sips, trying to savor the taste and make it last, but Primus he feels like he could easily drain the glass in seconds.

A sort of awkward silence settles over them for a few minutes as Tarn struggles to moderate his consumption of engex, before he clears his throat and attempts small talk.

"Have I missed anything of importance in my absence?"