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

[orerrible]

Shockwave was alive, moving - and in the first four million years without guided purpose. There had been nothing; the sharp crack of an ion blaster piercing his chest and the deafening void as he and the naked bones of Crystal City collapsed into a zero distance space. And then, after the last one out hits the lights, an abrupt and terrible return to creation struck him like a blow beyond comparison to how deeply it was felt.

And the first place he walks into after being forcibly evicted from the end itself, was Maccadam's Old Oil House. The punchline was that the first thing he hears in the wake of such an ordeal in that low as the pits laugh of Tarn's one could quite literally feel down to the spark.

Shockwave is not impressed as he comes in, shadow cleaving a thick line across the floor.

"Ah, Tarn."

[rodders]

Oh fuck no. There are things Rodimus likes having in his general area: Drift, Magnus, the Lost Light. Things like that. And since his last run in with Tarn, things had been pretty steadily improving. Megatron was still Megatron, of course, but everything else-- well okay, making out with Drift had helped a lot. But also the fact that none of his crew was getting mauled on a regular basis.

And then this. Rodimus sets down his glass angrily, glaring from his position at the bar. Nope. Not happening. Not here, and not now. Also: he wrote a sign! There's a sign that explicitly says no Tarns. And he just-- just ignored it!

"Did Megatron beat the ability to read out of you, Tarn?"

Guess who has not learned his lesson? It's this red asshole.

[aminerproblem]

Nautica, as the city's only civil engineer, was oftentimes too busy to tend to the energon and limited engex distillery operation they had going in Maccadam's. And while it wasn't often that Megatron took a shift at the bar with everything else going on, he took it upon himself to take this afternoon off her adorable purple hands.

He enters from the back after having resolved some of his own buisness, and stands at the other end of the counter. The calm malaise at facing his eventual necessary abandonment of the clinic evaporates at the sight of Tarn. He isn't aggressive towards the ex-Decepticon's presence, but his tolerance of this situation was clearly thin. Tarn was looking better, though he could see that limp clear as day.

Crossing his arms, he looks down on the counter to take stock of what was available.

[lifepersists]

Sometimes First Aid just wanted a drink. There were plenty of reasons why he shouldn't, of course. Depression, anxiety, and his general lack of care for his frame for some time were just three of the numerous reasons. But sometimes, he just wanted a drink, and Nautica and Megatron were pleasant company. The latter rather surprising; he'd started to warm to the former miner's presence. He wasn't the old, jaded tyrant his captain was.

The bar made for a good place to relax with a datapad and indulge with one of his recently neglected hobbies. First Aid was just typing out the last few lines of his most recent diary entry -- impressively quickly with only one hand -- when the door opened and the huge purple frame pressed in. Size was enough to catch his attention, but there wasn't any way he didn't recognize who Tarn was.

The datapad clatters to the table, his visor fixed on the mech.

"You're not welcome here."

[aerospacecommander]

Starscream found the bar not too long ago himself, and who was he to resist drinking? Especially around all these people who expect him to behave and not shoot anyone in the head (how boring, Optimus Prime.) If he can't get away with scheming terrible plots, he can at least terrorize people.

And if they are already overcharged he has plausible deniability. It's a win-win.

Unfortunately for him, he notices Tarn wander in and how can he ignore that? Of course the guy is rather huge and harassing him is no doubt a stupid idea, but this is Starscream so clearly he has to do it.

He meanders over and gives Tarn a look before speaking what will probably be one of the dumbest things he will ever state in his life: "Ya know, if really wanted to be that much of a suck-up you could have just welded your face to the back of Megatron's plating. It'd be just as attractive as," he pauses to gesture at Tarn's face-mask,"well ... that."