robothell | (no subject)

Who: Tarn and Megatron
Where: in the city :T
When: sometime
What: Tarn gets caught exactly where he should not be.
Warnings: threats of violence. possibly actual violence.

It’s been a hectic day. It all began when he was rudely awoken by Spinister kicking him in the face, shouting about the energon refinery having sprung a leak. With his tanks almost empty and roughly 80% of their acquired energon spilt into the dust, both Tarn and Spinister are touchy to say the least, leaving tensions running high.

Tarn needed to get out and clear his head; to be alone for more than a few minutes at a time. The buddy system has it purpose, and Tarn would never disagree, but being attached to Spinister every waking moment of every day has begun to grate on him. Seriously, who kicks someone in the face to wake them up? Walking aimlessly, he is itching to transform, but the metal contraption welded to his leg has effectively locked him out of his alt mode. Tarn can't transform without wrecking the brace and risk ruining his knee beyond Spinister’s repair. Trying to walk it off, the ex-DJD Commander makes an attempt to distract himself and somehow ignore the minute twitch in his t-cog that throbs with every step.

It only makes him more moody.

Tarn is far enough from the center of the city that he’s let his guard down the slightest bit, not expecting any unfortunate encounters with the local inhabitants. What reason would anyone have to be out this far? His only concern is Rampage, but to be honest, he has just as much of a chance of stumbling into him in the wastes as he does in the city.

He already feels himself beginning to calm just by getting some alone time. A lap around the outskirts should be plenty time to fully cooled down. That’s all it will take.

Lost in his own thoughts, and distracted by growing hunger, Tarn may have ventured into dangerous territory.

Threaded | Flat

Megatron needed some time to think after over a month of training with Sixshot. Progress had been going well. Even without any wartime upgrades, he held an uncanny propensity for violence that loomed over him at every moment.

Still, being denied at every turn when he began to look into working around his frame was starting to frustrate him. With every training session, he became more and more aware of his actuators and joints straining to keep up with the force of his spark. He could do more, but he was being held back - and no one in their right mind seemed to want to help alleviate that. Of course, given what he'd done back in their worlds, he couldn't entirely blame them.

But Galvatron was still out there, as was the distant threat of other Decepticons, he couldn't let that be the end of it. There had to be some other way to make up the difference.

His fixed concentration is broken by the heavy footsteps of what he can determine to be an injured mech. He rises out of his thoughtful slump as that familiar purple frame comes into view, his own optics slowly lit with a renewed fury.

Tarn may notice the physical marks left by having a phase sixer as a combat teacher, but Megatron otherwise looked the same as before. Including the expression of someone very intent on tearing his spark free from his casing.