[OPEN]

[loyaltyandhonor]

Who: Dreadwing & YOU
Where: Nautica's crash site; Camp Decepticon
When: After Nautica & Tarn are beat up by Megatron
What: Dreadwing finds Nautica's wrench & later works on his explosives hobby
Warnings: Melodrama

FOR ANYONE

Dreadwing had been spying on the Autobot Clinic. It was a prime target if they needed to make a strike against the Autobots, not to mention a stockpile of supplies that would benefit the Decepticons, since Spinister's attempt at thievery proved unsuccessful. With a more strategic plan, with more information on who staffed the clinic, they could undoubtedly pull off greater success storming the building as a group.

There was however, one problem with his plan, and that was the increased activity after Tarn's frankly overzealous run in the white sword wielding Autobot.

He was about to give up his position to avoid being caught by the agitated Autobots when he overheard an interesting bit of news that none of the other Decepticons in his band knew about. That Megatron had attacked an autobot. The little purple autobot he'd run into earlier scavenging for parts, specifically. It stood to reason she had been on the trail of something useful, a lead Dreadwing was more than happy to follow up on.

By air it hadn't taken long for him to locate where she had been attacked, and thankfully Megatron had long since abandoned the site. Dreadwing landed next to the hole in the building, picking his way through the rubble on the off chance the autobot had dropped anything useful.

Like the surprisingly high tech wrench she had when they first met, and was lying on the ground amongst the rest of the debris waiting to be picked up.

FOR THE CONS

Since Tarn's recent defeat at the hands of the autobot Megatron, the air about the Decepticon base had been noticeably more tense than usual. With one of the strongest amongst them incapacitated, Dreadwing had been sticking closer to their current headquarters, but there was only so much that could be done at this point without risking an attack from the Autobots, or even Starscream and Megatron, who were no doubt prowling around.

With little else to keep him occupied, Dreadwing had claimed a space in one of the larger rooms for weapons maintenance. It was a routine that he found relaxing and productive, and had already dismantled and cleaned his laser cannon and polished his sword. At this point the workbench was covered in wiring and tools, building control modules for explosives to pass the time, each more elaborate than the last. The piece he was currently working on was turning into an increasingly complex arrangement of trick wires and dummy leads as he worked, stopping occasionally to switch tools or dig through his pile of salvaged parts.

Comments

I'm like falling asleep so lmk if this works or not I can edit later

[starscheme]

Starscream has also been peering in on the Autobots from time to time, but through sheer paranoia has avoided crossing Dreadwing's path. Until now.

Not far from where Dreadwing has landed, Starscream is trying his damnedest to blend into the surrounding scenery and not make a peep. He'd just been minding his own business when his audials had picked up on the sound of an approaching aircraft, and he'd nearly had a spark-attack when he identified who was the source.

As Dreadwing rounds a corner, the seeker wedges himself in a little dark nook between two piles of rubble and prays to the powers that he absolutely does not believe in, that he wasn't spotted.

[sparkwhisperer]

Pain radiates from Tarn's wrecked knee as he limps around the Decepticon base. Spinister had requested that he stay off it but his own stubborn pride and overwhelming urge to just move overrode it. The scientist was gone for now which gave him free reign without being scolded into returning to his medical berth.

Days have passed since his run in with Megatron, and while his body is on the mend he is still weak and disoriented from the pain dampeners. Everything seems to be on a tilt as Tarn stumbles into the common area, briefly relived that no one was around to see it. Light shines from down the long hallway where Dreadwing has taken up residence. Desperate for some sort of engaging conversation, Tarn uses the wall for support as he drags himself toward his comrade's chambers. He cringes as his wrecked joint shrieks as he puts a bit too much pressure on it. So much for a quiet and dignified approach. Surely anyone in the base had heard that.

Tarn clears his throat, "Dreadwing? Are you in there?"