robothell | Tarn and the very bad no good terrible week

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ratchet | asafepairofhands

Tarn and the very bad no good terrible week

Who: Tarn and Drift and Tarn and You
Where: The city center
When: A few days after the Rodimus incident
What: Tarn has an unfortunate run in with some new friends
Warnings: Tarn. Violence to come

Tarn has had bad days before. Occasionally his latest victim would get a good punch in, perhaps they were particularly good at eluding himself and his team, or they managed to temporarily escape. Maybe the pet decided to gnaw on a particularly important set of data pads. Or Vos decided to poach parts from one of the cleaning drones. Again.

Any of that is a walk in the park compared to the viciously terrible week Tarn has had. So far he has been transported to an alternate Cybertron without his consent. He has been harassed by Autobots, burned, shot at, disrespected,; but really, the proverbial cherry on top of the whole mess, was the incident with Megatron. The founder of the Decepticons, the mech he has sacrificed his identity, his name, his very life to serving, turned traitorous. Betraying his own faction and trading his own badge for an Autobrand. Honestly, Tarn is having a difficult time even wrapping his mind around the whole thing. One thing is for certain though...he is angry and on the hunt for someone to take his aggression out on.

He has been prowling the city ruins for hours, stopping every few minutes to transform a few times, just to take the edge off. He can feel his T-cog grinding more and more with every transformation. He is familiar with the sensation and the knowledge that the cog probably wont last him the month only adds to his every growing ire.

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"Heh, I'll keep away from him for a while then." If this Megatron wouldn't approve of what Tarn did, then Sixshot doubts he'd approve of a walking genocide machine.

He misses the look the DJD commander turns on him however, optics off and drowsing as he was. It... is the first time in a long while that he's been somewhat at ease with another Cybertronian admittedly. There were times with Black Shadow and Overlord, the rare occasions that he'd been teamed up with them, the calm before a mission. It was the quiet comfort of being with others... who would understand, even if they vastly differed in every other way.

"Maybe you should ask old man Megs about that badge a little more closely," Bumblebee snaps back.

Fat chance he's actually going to reply to Tarn. What he's doing and saying is definitely a death sentence. Giving out his name? That's torture before the merciful spark snuffing.

It's much easier to swerve to dodge the incoming rounds. He feels the one on his fender and a few more that graze by. Scratches. That's all. He's had worse. When Bee is close enough? That has the little Autobot banking hard out of the way. His tires kick up more dust and debris, hopefully playing a little havoc on Tarn's sensors.

Listening to Tarn's account, Dreadwing's face took on a sympathetic scowl. It was almost like you couldn't trust any Megatron in any universe. Incredible.

"I understand. I myself have experience a similar clash of interests with Lord Megatron." He pointed did not mention what that was, but as far as he was concerned it was as much an act against him personally as all the soldiers of the cause.

"No, I have no allies here, at the very least none of which I am aware. I know of two other Decepticons from my universe who arrived here, Starscream and Megatron himself, but I would not align with them now if my spark depended on it."

Tarn makes a small noise of agreement.

"Yes, perhaps your right." He stands from the bloody remnants of Ratchet's leg. He thinks about taking the it with him but decides against it. Let the medic reattach it if he so desires. The damage had been done and the message sent.

"Know this, Ratchet. Don't think that just because I am walking away today, does not mean I will not be back. That T-Cog will be mine."

Edited 2015-02-18 13:34 (UTC)

Starscream has been making himself as scarce as possible, between the huge amount of Autobots here and Dreadwing lurking around somewhere waiting to fucking murder him.

It's honestly a surprise when he not only sees what is REALLY OBVIOUSLY another Decepticon, but also one that he doesn't recognize. In his timeline, it's been ages since he tried to sling any authority over other members of the cause, or even interacted with any Decepticons aside from Megatron. He's honestly not sure how to approach this mystery bot (who appears to be in a right foul mood).

Obviously he needs to introduce himself. If all else fails, he can pull rank on this guy. And if all else really fails... well, if there's one thing Starscream is confident in, it's his ability to run the fuck away when there's a real threat.

"You there!" he barks at Tarn, puffing his chest out so his badge is proudly on display pointing one talon in the other bot's direction. His optics narrow suspiciously. "You wear the same brand as I, yet I do not recognize you. What's your name and rank?"

"I will consider it." So pushy, Pharma.

Tarn moves to step away, accepting that at least he has a fall back medic until something can be figured out. Maybe one who's instruments aren't starting to rust.

Pharma has proven himself to useful in the past; Tarn supposes it is best to keep him under his thumb.

They sit in silence for a long time; Tarn actually resting for the first time since he arrived. His joints and t-cog ache, but he manages to calm his mind. The cacophony of questions and anger ceasing for just a little while.

Tarn is the first to break the silence.

"Do you need a place to stay? I haven't much to offer, but Spinister and I have settled in a sort of temporary base of sorts. You are welcome if you find yourself in need of shelter."

Tarn doesn't expect that Sixshot will go for the suggestion, but it is only polite to extend the offer.

A cloud of dust, flies back at Tarn as Bumblebee swerves and dodges. Agility is not his strong point and unfortunately it is coming back to bite him.

He just momentarily loses sight of his prey as he enters the cloud of debris. Really it is all downhill from here as he pursues blindly.

Tarn nods slightly in understanding. He has to know, however. He has to know what to expect from yet another Megatron.

"If I may be so bold, would you mind telling me what happened? So that I may know what to expect if I find myself coming across them?"

He briefly wonders if every Megatron, despite the universe, has a Starscream to soak up his attention.

How very irritating.

Another Decepticon. Tarn turns to address the stranger, straightening up to give him a sort of up and down appraising look. It seems as if a strong breeze could tear him apart. Or so Tarn thinks.

He can tell this will be an infuriating meeting just by the jet's posture. From what he gathered from Dreadwing, Tarn has an inkling of who this may be.

"Tarn. Commander of the Decepticon Justice Division." He takes a step forward, head held high. "And yourself?"

Hey he may be spindly, but he's sturdier than he looks. He has to be, considering the beatings he's taken over the years.

"Hmm. I've never heard of that division before... which means you're probably not from the same world that I am, so I'll give you a pass this once for not recognizing me," he huffs, rubbing his considerably sized chin thoughtfully and narrowing his eyes.

"You have the great honor of addressing Starscream, Air Commander, and First Lieutenant and Second in Command to Lord Megatron," the seeker proclaims proudly, puffing up to full height again.

Decepticon rankings where he comes from make absolutely zero goddamn sense.

"Ah, so you didn't kill him," Sixshot muses, drowsy humor coloring his voice.

He pauses to consider the offer though.

It would be nice. Maybe. To have company. To not meander aimlessly around the empty city. Maybe it'll be better than the quiet fade into obsolescence he'd resigned himself to. People to talk to instead of the perpetual, unending and numb ennui.

There's another part of him that quietly points out how his current state of mind would absolutely not be welcome. And if Tarn knew of his defection to the Reapers...

"I'll... visit."

The enormous eye roll that Tarn gives while listening to Starscream prattle on, and puff up like some ridiculous prized bird, is certainly something to behold. He supposes he should be polite; the air commander does technically have the advantage of rank. But in the scheme of things this Starscream's position means nothing. Its not as if Tarn expects an alliance from him or even the alternate Megatron.

Whats the worst that Starscream could do anyway? Elbow him with his ridiculous pointy elbow? He is positive that he could crush him with one hand.

Tarn makes a noise of acknowledgement.

"Ah. Yes. I have heard as much from Dreadwing."

Tarn smirks behind his mask, a quick flash of teeth barely visible between the two plates of metal forming his mask.

"Yes, he remains alive. He has proven himself to be quite useful in situations where supplies are not readily available. For how long, however, remains to be seen. One does not simply get taken off The List."

Tarn pauses, not entirely sure how to handle the concept of friendship with those outside his team.

"I, uh, will look forward to your visits then."

Awkward.

Ah. Fuck.

He'd be angrier about the eye roll, but it takes a good deal of effort for Starscream to keep from flinching. Of course Dreadwing would get to this mystery decepticon first, that's just the kind of luck he's been having lately.

"Oh you've met Dreadwing, have you?" the jet says silkily, trying to cover up the alarm in his voice. "And I'm sure he put his best effort into smearing my reputation as much as possible."

He makes a face, drawing himself up again. "Dreadwing is a filthy traitor to our cause, and he has a personal vendetta against me, as if that weren't enough; I urge you to disregard anything he may have told you. The fact that he is here at all is inexcusable. In the time that I came from, Megatron had long since put him to death with his own hands. Or, fusion cannon, to be more accurate."

At Tarn's words, Sixshot flickers his optics shut and cycles air out in a long, slow sigh. He considers telling Tarn about the Reapers then and there. Get the truth out of the way and get himself properly Listed. This alliance wasn't going to last anyways and now that he thought of it...

Maybe he could die. Maybe he should. He was an obsolete weapon and a deserter to boot. What was left? His life had just been empty.

It takes a little while for Sixshot to shake off the sudden gloom enough to move. He stretches slowly as he stands up and then lowers his massive canine head down until his nose nearly bumped against Tarn's chest plate, ear nubs at reachable height. The four-legged equivalent of offering a hand to help a mech up.

"Show me where the base is?" he asks quietly.

Edited 2015-02-09 04:53 (UTC)

Tarn hesitates before wrapping an arm around Sixshot's massive neck, hauling himself off the ground.

"Thank you...for helping me, back there in the building." he mutters as he begins to lead the way back.

It does seem to be an unfortunate universal constant doesn't it?

He briefly considered how to best respond to Tarn's question, but did not hesitate long before deciding on the truth.
"Megatron has recently shown some...questionable judgement, choosing to reward traitorous and cowardly behavior by his officers as opposed to selfless servitude and loyalty. He has little regard for those who have pledged themselves to the Decepticon cause, and I cannot continue to fight in his name if that is how he chooses to treat our brethren."

"You'd have survived," Sixshot mutters, voice gruff. He waits until Tarn is a few paces ahead of him before beginning to follow.

"... You're welcome."

It really is for Tarn. Bumblebee is built for this. Tarn is likely to find this out as Bee has to kind of rub salt in the wound. How? By taking an actual shot at Tarn before fleeing. No, it's not really going to do damage. Maybe a scratch or a scorch mark...

Bumblebee is just giving the guy a parting gift.

Tarn looks less the impressed, staring levelly at Starscream.

"Hm, well, strangely enough you seem to fitting the exact description that he gave me."

Tarn and Starscream have never seen eye to eye. He doesn't expect this one to be any different.

Pharma narrows his eyes just briefly. That wasn't a 'yes', so he probably can't count on his condition being upheld. That would be too much to ask for.

He averts his gaze. "Fine then."

Starscream frowns, having more and more difficulty in keeping the full-on indignant scowl off of his face by the minute. "You do realize that not only did just insult a commanding officer, but did so in tandem with openly agreeing with the ideals of a known traitor and enemy to the Decepticon cause," he growls softly, a threatening edge creeping into his tone. He sounds a lot more confident than he actually feels.

"Since... I can't imagine that Dreadwing had anything positive to say about me."

Edited 2015-02-14 03:18 (UTC)

"That is...unfortunate. I had been hoping that perhaps I might find another to follow." Tarn curls his hand into a fist at his side, giving a resigned sigh.

Dreadwing seems like an honorable sort of fellow, loyal to the ideals of the Decepticon cause. It is probably best to trust his word on this. After all, what does Tarn know about this alternate universe and its events.

Caught and disoriented in the cloud of dust, Tarn feels the hit of a round bury itself into his plating, right above his Decepticon badge. A superficial wound, but enough to shock Tarn into transforming back into his root mode.

Stumbling into the dirt, he tries to gain his barrings. He Howls in rage and twists, trying to locate the little yellow car. But it's gone.

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Tarn and the very bad no good terrible week

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did you wanna wrap this guy up?

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Wrap is good with me!

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