this is a bad town for such a pretty face

[pharma]

Who: Pharma and YOU (and also Tarn)
Where: Out and about the City
When: /shrugs???
What: Pharma realizing that being homeless really sucks.
Warnings: Yes. Will update as needed.

Pharma has quickly realized that street-living is really not all that great. Sure, he had that one moment of glory when Tarn had pinged him for some emergency surgery, but since then, the monotony is threatening to drive him crazy... er. Again.

Regardless, the constant tugging and pulling of rubble to create a makeshift shelter and the jumping between resting spots is starting to show. He's covered in an impressive layer of dust that is threatening to become permanent, only broken up by the occasional collection of scratches and dents. There's a small chip in the paint on his chevron that's driving him up the wall. What he wouldn't give for a bath and a buffing right now.

Either way, he's just wandering right now, spying out areas for his next temporary shelter. Occasionally, he starts to wander towards the clinic, but he moves away just as soon as he sees it.

Comments

[sparkwhisperer]

Just outright telling him that he knows that Pharma is lying would take much of the fun right out of it. Tarn is determined to make the Autobot come clean himself. Forcing him to swallow his pride, and admit defeat, would make obtaining whatever he is hiding that much sweeter in the end.

"No, no. I insist." The barest brush of Tarn's voice caresses' Pharma's spark. The threat against trying to hold out on him nakedly apparent in his tone

[pharma]

Pharma in-vents sharply as Tarn's voice practically pierces through his chassis and sends the slightest, unpleasant pang through his spark, but swallows it back to try and maintain an undeterred expression.

"And I insist that you drop it. There is nothing."

Well... he's not completely lying there.

[sparkwhisperer]

“Pharma!” He snaps, patience being tested. He takes a few steps forward, glaring down at the medic. His fists clench at his sides as he squares his shoulders. “Surely you’re not trying to hide something from me. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how monumentally bad of an idea that would be.”

His voice twists closer, solidifying a solid grip around Pharma's spark.

“Now, then. Will you be a gracious host? Or will I have to press the matter further."

[pharma]

Pharma's optics widen, flaring just slightly as his spark constricts, and he gasps, grasping at his chassis briefly while he tries to calm himself. Immediately his first response is to repeat, "Tarn -- there's nothing --" before he forces himself to articulate.

A rare moment where he decides that living is more important than dignity arises, cresting with a rushed explanation. "There's nowhere for me to play host to, I've found nothing! I'm not hiding anything --"

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn narrows his optics, staring silently at Pharma for a few long moments. Part of him still doesn't believe the opportunistic medic. However that kind of spark deep mortification that is written all over his frame is hard to fake. Especially for a mech as egotistical and proud as Pharma.


"Do you mean to tell me that you've been homeless all this time? I find it hard to believe that you would deign to sleep in the dirt for so long."

[pharma]

He watches Tarn for a long moment, struggling to breathe properly and to get the sting out of his spark. It's humiliating, yes, but he only adds that to the bite that comes as he shoots back,

"It's not exactly as though people are opening their doors for me."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn levels Pharma with a very unimpressed stare. The more defensive he gets the more he actually buys into the unlikely story.

And he is covered in a lot of dirt.

"Perhaps you haven't been looking hard enough. Surely you haven't burned every bridge."

[pharma]

"Considering I'd rather not get shot in the face on a blind guess, I'm playing it safe."

His spark is starting to regulate normally again, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself, averting his optics from that dark stare burning into him.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn sighs, shaking his head. He can’t have the Pharma sleeping on the streets. That's unsanitary. Upkeep of personal hygiene is important in a medic. There is a shower back at base; and plenty of space. Dragging a hand down his mask, Tarn comes to a rather unfortunate decision.

“There’s a shower back at base. You can stay there as long as you are out of the way."

[pharma]

"Base -- surely you don't mean your base?"

Pharma's optics widen slightly; Tarn isn't suggesting what he thinks he's suggesting. Is he? Granted, it is a very appealing alternative - having a place to sleep that isn't on the streets and being able to wash all this dust off sounds very nice, very nice indeed. But... it's Tarn.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn rolls his eyes, beckoning for Pharma to follow him.

“Yes, my my base. Do you think I would just invite you to someone else’s base?"

[pharma]

"Knowing you, it probably was someone else's base before."

Pharma crosses his arms, not budging as he regards Tarn with a dubious raise of his brow. "Why the sudden show of generosity?"

[sparkwhisperer]

"If you are to function as a physician for me I expect you to maintain the highest possible state of personal hygiene." It has nothing to do with how pathetic Pharma looks.

This isn't charity, it's necessity. Or so he tells himself.

"I can't have dirt falling into my internals and jamming delicate mechanisms."

[pharma]

"How selfless of you," he says dryly. "But I'm sure dirt isn't the worst that's gotten caught up in your systems." He makes sure to emphasize the point just like Tarn did, only slightly more obnoxiously.