Tarn sighs, letting the piece of medal fall from his fingers to land back in the sand with a muted thud. He’s not pouting. He’s just tired, and depressed, and his throat hurts, and his joints are greasy, and he looks ridiculous wrapped in several tarps with a crippled leg.
He’s ready to move on when an unrecognized voice interrupts. Tarn’s optic blaze as he whips around to address the interloper. In doing so he puts himself firmly between the stranger and Spinister, protecting his partner with his larger mass and dense battle-ready armor. He’s hoping that it’s only Spinister that notices the way he almost trips over his own leg in the process.
He’s a pathetic sight, but he hopes that he at least is still slightly ominous looking, if nothing else. Certainly he’s not looking to make any new ‘friends’.
“Identify yourself or leave.” Oh, it burns Tarn to be so passive, but he can’t afford another fight right now. “We don’t want trouble.” There. He said it. He hopes your happy Spinister.
no subject
He’s ready to move on when an unrecognized voice interrupts. Tarn’s optic blaze as he whips around to address the interloper. In doing so he puts himself firmly between the stranger and Spinister, protecting his partner with his larger mass and dense battle-ready armor. He’s hoping that it’s only Spinister that notices the way he almost trips over his own leg in the process.
He’s a pathetic sight, but he hopes that he at least is still slightly ominous looking, if nothing else. Certainly he’s not looking to make any new ‘friends’.
“Identify yourself or leave.” Oh, it burns Tarn to be so passive, but he can’t afford another fight right now. “We don’t want trouble.” There. He said it. He hopes your happy Spinister.