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

[knaval]

No. N-not anymore.

[he rocks back onto his haunches on the slab, still towering over ratchet.]

I wuh... want you t-to be okay more than a-anything. I'd gi... give you my hands if they w-weren't too big.

[he looks down at them for a moment, frowning at how they're still shaking.]

Or more used t-to texting memes than surgery.

[asafepairofhands]

Riptide.

[Ratchet's voice is firm, and the tips of his claws are barely trembling at all now.]

I'm okay.

[knaval]

W-with all due respect, I don't believe you.

[ratchet are you LITERALLY HAVING A BUBBLE M8]

[asafepairofhands]

Well, I can't help you there, I guess.

[He rolls his remaining optic, but his expression is fond as he shakes his head and touches Riptide's shoulder briefly.]

It's still a bad idea to put too much strain on your spark, though. Please just make an attempt to relax.

[knaval]

[he makes a face, then acquiesces and lays back down.]

Y-you better be fixing yourself when I wake up. Or I'm t-telling Magnus on you.

[asafepairofhands]

Oh, well, heaven forfend.

Magnus is going to find out anyway--I'm already anticipating a lecture.

[knaval]

I-I'll tell Drift!

[going by his tone, riptide isn't entirely serious.]

I'm just s-saying. If you need help I can do it.

[riptide you're shaking so hard you're basically vibrating out the light spectrum]

[asafepairofhands]

You'll tell Drift will you?

[That makes Ratchet grin, despite the dents in his cheek, reaching out to nudge at Riptide's shoulder.]

Well, I stood up to Tarn and I'm bracing for a lecture from Ultra Magnus, but Drift, well, that really has me worried.

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Speaking of Drift he basically has the best comedic timing in the world because this is precisely when he shows up. He practically skids to a stop when he enters and he's practically vibrating with either rage or worry. He can't decide which, but either way it's not good and he's clearly not pleased.]

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?

[Hey guys how's it goin the shrieking is totally helping right]

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet jumps, looking briefly panicked as he whirls around and takes a step back until he bumps into the edge of Riptide's slab.]

I--I don't-- [He scrambles for a moment before managing to draw himself up, his claws shaking badly again but his jaw set as he glares up at Drift.] What's wrong with you! You can't just slam into a medical bay and start screaming at people!

[knaval]

[riptide isn't as good as getting himself back together as ratchet is.

there he goes.

backwards off the slab.

bye riptide.]

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

Sorry!

[He doesn't sound sorry he still sounds pissed. Before he has a chance to snap at Ratchet again, there goes Riptide. YEAHHHH that had totally been Drift's fault. He winces and scrambles over to ry to help Riptide back up. He'll yell at Ratchet more later.]

I-- sorry. Sorry.

[asafepairofhands]

Too right you are! Watch the glass and the energon on the floor, for goodness' sake.

[Ratchet is snapping, moving to help Drift heave the much larger, much heavier Riptide back onto his medical slab, his face a tense mask. He finishes getting Riptide all hooked up again, one claw on his shoulder, before the other wraps hard around Drift's wrist.]

You ran into Tarn. [It isn't really a question.] I--are you all right?

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Drift looks bewildered by the question, but at the very least he seems to have calmed down significantly from when he first stormed in.]

I'm fine. He wasn't exactly in any shape to threaten me. Is there anything I can do to help here?

[asafepairofhands]

No I just--

[He lets out a shaking hiss of air from his vents, letting go of Riptide and leaning hard against the edge of his slab, his clawtips still trembling.]

Just need to clean up in here.

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Drift frowns, reaching up to grip Ratchet's shoulder reassuringly]

I'll take care of that, don't worry about it. Let me help you get patched up first.

[asafepairofhands]

I'm fine. [Ratchet's tone is sharp-edged, insistent, but he can't stop his claws from trembling as he moves away from Riptide's slab and stoops to start picking up the shattered pieces of his own windscreen, his tanks rolling helplessly with the aftermath of adrenaline.] I'll pop the dents later. I just--I'm fine.

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Drift's watching Ratchet like a hawk, so the trembling doesn't go unnoticed. He's not going to bring it up, he doubts it would help anything, so he's just going to start helping Ratchet clean up.]

If anyone would be fine after something like that, it would definitely be you. Either way, I think you should take a minute to relax.