robothell | (no subject)

Who: Tarn and First Aid with a guest appearance by Rampage, Tarn and Sixshot
What: Tarn has "words" with First Aid
When: a few weeks after pollen
Where: somewhere near the Autobot Medibay
Warnings: gratuitous robot violence. Seriously.

Embarrassment. It’s the only word Tarn can find to describe how he feels upon recollection of his last meeting with First Aid. The tiny Autobot had taken him firmly in hand, taking advantage of every shameful desire that he could muster; drunk with the effects of the pollen that had clogged his systems.

Worse than what the medic had seen was what he probably thinks. After how Tarn had acted, any respect or fear that First Aid had was surely long gone. And what rumors had he been spreading? Who else knew about the incident? His tanks churn at the thought.

Really, Tarn knows what he must do. The only thing keeping him contained, so far, was the thought of Megatron finding out. They had come so far, trust was just beginning to be rebuilt. Was his pride really worth shattering all that work?

Yes. It was.

Which is how Tarn found himself prowling the back alleys near the Autobot Medibay, optics scanning for a certain small red and white Autobot that he was to have words with.

Fortunately it doesn’t take him long.

Threaded | Flat

Normally, it was Sixshot who was hanging out in the alleys around the medibay looking lost and uncertain, but the one unfortunate brush with Pharma had left First Aid feeling cautious about the 'back door' of the medibay. Tarn and Pharma thought similarly in this regard at least, but the current Autobot CMO was more on guard in regards to the possible presence of his former boss than he was expecting the leader of the DJD.

Despite his promotion he didn't see himself above his former tasks. Junk had to be disposed of and recycled, and the bins were kept out back. He was dragging out some hopelessly destroyed scrap that needed to be smelted down into new parts when he turns and startles at Tarn's silhouette. The biolights patterning the mech's frame were a dead give away if it wasn't for the iconic mask.

"Decided to hang out where you belong with the trash? If you're looking for Megatron, he's not here."

It’s a mess. A disaster. Tarn’s plan could not have ended more poorly if he had tried. Which is how he ended up in this position; crouched over a shallow puddle of water, trying to hastily scrub First Aid’s energon from his drenched frame.

it’s a futile cause; he knows that. He’ll need to find a deep pool to submerge himself in if he truly wishes to get himself clean. Or, making his way to Spinster’s shower…but he can’t. Not without running into his leader. Megatron can’t see him like this. Although,surely he knows by now. That wretched Beastformer undoubtedly brought First Aid’s brutal beating to light. In fact he’s probably being hunted at this very moment. He desperately needs to think of a way to talk himself out of this. The clock is ticking.

He’s made a mistake. Not in trying to kill First Aid; no that admission will never come. They’ll have to pry it from his cold black spark. The mistake lies in letting it become personal. He let it become a more drawn out production than it really needed to be. It should have been quick and over before he could be caught. Or, perhaps he should have knocked him out and dragged him far outside the city like he did with Drift.

Regardless, it's already been done and now he must face the consequences of his stupidity. He won’t run, and he won’t hide like a coward. Instead, after a deep vent, he simply resumes washing his plating bit by bit. He’ll have to wait this situation out.

It doesn’t take very long before he hears someone’s distant approach. Its quiet and focused, but spark wrenchingly familiar. He doesn’t turn from his work as the footfalls become closer.

“Ah. So he sent you. I can’t say that I’m surprised."

He isn’t waiting long in the room that Sixshot had deposited him in before Megatron makes an appearance. Barely enough time to steel himself for the thunderous rage that suddenly fills the room. He doesn’t notice himself backing up several paces. He knows this Megatron.

“I suppose you expect me to apologize."

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For the dog

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