Open || Closed || November Shenanigans

[sparkwhisperer]

Who: Tarn & OPEN || [Closed] Tarn & Riptide
When: November 1st
Where: around the ship
What: Tarn’s persistent bad mood reaches a boiling point
Warnings:Pissy robots || Gratuitous violence and robot gore



[OPEN]

[The past month has been a Disaster. Tarn can see his alliances dwindling before his very eyes, leaving him with only a scant few associates; only one of which he feels he can truly trust. But, the loss of Soundwave’s friendship has really taken its toll.

It started with depression. A crippling sadness so deep that the only escape Tarn saw was to bow out of consciousness and initiate stasis protocols for nearly a month. Upon awakening, he found that his grief had begun to morph into something more complex and dangerous. Anger began to boil just under the surface, threatening to consume him. It was really only a matter of time until he succumbed to it’s magnetism.

Why bother trying to play nice if nothing you do matters?

Tarn can be found prowling the corridors of Moira, desperate for something to destroy. His temper will be clear to anyone unfortunate to cross his path]



[CLOSED]
[Tarn has been stewing ever since he discovered where Ravage’s corpse had come from. Of course Riptide had something to do with it. How very like that wretched Autobot to seek to destroy what little of a life Tarn has built for himself here.

Deciding that they were in dire need of having a bit of a heart to heart, Tarn sets out to track down the Autobot. He scours the ship, searching all of the usual cybertronian hangouts with little luck. Systematically, he hunts through the Moira leaving no cybertronian sized corridor or room untouched. It’s only by mere happenstance that he catches a glimpse of his familiar frame, seemingly in a rush to get somewhere. There mere sight of him sends a fresh wave of rage through his frame.

Fists clench at his sides as he stalks up behind Riptide.]

Where are you off to in such a hurry? Have you more lives to destroy?

Comments

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[If this was anywhere but the medbay he'd be more that happy to give tarn plenty of room. Drift does step out of the way, but that doesn't mean he's going to let this issue go.]

Answer the question.

[sparkwhisperer]

I mm-m--de a minor misca---ulation.

[Tarn's vision swims as he tries to shuffle past Drift, instead tipping and crashing into him. He's quick to right himself, spinning to keep Drift in his sights as he backs away, glaring bitterly.]

m-medi--c stronger than anticipat----

[his voice dissolves into static.]

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Drift doesn't shove Tarn off, but he does hop back as soon as Tarn moves away. It's through sheer force of will that he keeps himself from drawing his blade and going stabhappy once Tarn confirms that he had, in fact, just come from "visiting" Ratchet, but he doesn't do quite as good a job at hiding his expression. Which is clearly not a happy one. It's closer to barely contained rage really.]

You better pray that he's in better shape than you are.

[sparkwhisperer]

[Tarn lets out a wet bitter laugh, a spray of energon escaping the gap in his mask.]

You don't give your medic enough credit. He fights dirty, that one.

[Tarn doesn't even look back as he staggers down the hall, desperate to find a quiet place to lick his wounds]

You're lucky this time.

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Ooooh Drift shouldn't trash talk.

But he's going to anyway.]

Am I, now? Big talk from someone who just got his aft kicked in by a medic.

[Not that he was underestimating Ratchet's abilities because he knows first hand just how tough the old bastard can be, but you know he really can't feel bad about rubbing a little salt in Tarn's wounds.]

[sparkwhisperer]

[Tarn doesn't snap back a rebuttal, nor does he make any motion to attack. He just shuffles away, leaving a trail of of energon in his wake. He's done. He's done with this ship, and these Autobots, and this life. He has nothing left; not even his own self respect.

Tarn has no idea where to go from here. He's lost.]