june intro log overflow

[hohnkai]

This is an overflow for the intro post.

Comments

[sparkwhisperer]

[Tarn ignores Bumblebee's protests, giving the piece of scrap another shake to try to dislodge it's pendulous accessory. It isn't until he hears the booming voice of his new medic friend, that he finally pauses.]

Ah, Ratchet, so good to see you again. I was just about to dispose of this piece of space trash.

[heelys]

[He's scrabbling now, lifting his feet up to try and keep a grip on it and trying not to purge with the amount of shaking he's going under. But then he decides enough is enough and transforms one of his hands into his stingers, with the sole intend of jabbing Tarn with it, hoping he drops the plasmadynamic thruster, and then running as fast as his legs can carry him.

That plan is ruined when the familiar voice booms through the hallway, and it actually surprises Bumblebee enough that he loses grip on the device, landing straight on the floor by Tarn's large feet.]

--Did you just call me space trash?!

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet draws closer and flicks a medium-size laser cutter out of his wrist, his optics narrowing dangerously.]

Drop whatever it is or lose a hand, Tarn. I may even reattach it later if I'm feeling generous. [His tone does not indicate a particularly generous mood, and he doesn't look away from Tarn.] Bumblebee, are you all right?

[sparkwhisperer]

[Tarn looks down at the chunk of metal. He doesn't even know what it is-- can it really be worth an altercation so soon after his release from solitary? Bumblebee's attachment to it seems to affirm any doubts in his mind.

He's still clutching it, when he turns to Ratchet]

All this over a bit of scrap? Your miniature friend assured me that this was nothing but trash. [Tarn punctuates the statement by gesturing to the sparking plasmadynamic thurster in his palm.]

[heelys]

[Bumblebee can't help but flinch when the word 'miniature' is used, managing not to shout up at Tarn about it. He actually knows when he's in over his head sometimes, and as Tarn turns toward Ratchet, Bumblebee scoots backwards, toward the medic's feet. He's still staring up at Tarn, optics pale and fearful, flitting over to the broken device every now and again. Is it worth losing his spark over? Probably not... but then he'll be stuck here.]

--I'm okay, Ratchet. [his voice wavers a little. Tarn. That was one of the bots Ratchet told him to avoid. He's getting uneasy with those claws and how tightly they're gripping the device.] Don't! Break it even more!