capitalh | WHAT YEAR IS IT!?!?

Who: Starscream, The Decepticons, Sollux, and potentially, YOU
Where: Variable, the Decepticon Base and the Mojave/California wilderness generally.
When: March 18th and beyond.
What: Starscream wakes up from his visit to Scary Jail and has a lot of personal bullshit on top of probably a pretty angry boss to deal with. Then he goes energon scouting. Reluctantly.
Warnings: Some medical talk in the setup, discussion of SCARY JAIL TORTURE, probably some gay. Okay definitely some gay.

[Options 1 and 2, CLOSED TO THOSE WHO COULD FEASIBLY BE AT THE 'CON BASE]

It's a few days before he regains proper consciousness.

Starscream’s last encounter with the AI and put him completely down for the count. He failed to escape, of course. It hadn’t been for a lack of trying, in fact he had come painfully close on his last try, but then he got caught and at that point he just didn’t have the energy left in him to put up enough of a fight. He’d gotten another good zap and then his internals went into automatic shutdown, an involuntary emergency defense mechanism designed to divert all of his remaining energon to prolonging the life of his spark for as long as possible.

Help did finally come, as he had predicted before passing out from Energon depletion, but he certainly wasn’t awake to witness it. Fortunately it came from (relatively) friendly forces and not humans as he had feared and Orion Pax had suggested. So he’d been carted back to the Decepticon base, completely dead to the world.

When it came down to it, his symptoms were fairly straight forward. Energon starvation was easy enough to fix; a few transfusions and he would be back up to acceptable levels, though their limited resources meant that he was only just hovering above what was strictly necessary. Starscream has a vague recollection of hazily waking up a few times, confused and enraged and swatting weakly with his one good arm, desperate to get his claws on what he assumed to be the antagonizing AI, but those moments were few and far between and he can’t even remember what put him back out again. The real problem was the implant; it hadn’t taken long to locate and remove, of course, but the procedure had required him to preferably be unconscious, so perhaps it was a blessing he was in such a bad way.

Once the offending piece had been removed though and he was no longer starving to death, it is only another 12 hours or so before he opens his optics for what feels like the first time in ages. It’s slow coming at first, and then the situation hits him with a sudden, startling clarity.

He bolts upright, snarling and digging his talons into the berth he is laid out on, optics wide with panic.

----
[HERE'S OPTION 2]

It doesn’t take Starscream long to get up and moving around after that. What’s notable is the manner in which he seems to be skulking around the ship. It’s not in his usual, scheming, swaggering kind of skulking. He seems almost dejected, likely troubled by the thorough ass kicking and pathetic state in which he was retrieved in. Of course he’s not going to admit any of this out loud, because he’s an emotionally constipated piece of shit, but it’s easy enough to infer. Beyond that he just seems to be in a particularly foul mood, and oddly unwilling to go back outside the relative safety of the ship unless directly ordered to do so.

----

[OPTION 3: OPEN TO ALL]

Sometimes he has to go outside though; without a complete formula there’s still naturally occurring energon that needs to be gathered and recon to be done. Those who know what they’re looking for might spot a fighter jet zipping around where it doesn’t belong. He’s carefully cloaked from showing up as an obvious threat on scanners, but those with the know-how can easily tell that he is at least Cybertronian, and can therefore potentially engage him. Those without the know-how might be lucky enough to catch him in robot mode, digging around in the wilderness (desert, forest, whatever floats your boat) for supplies to bring back to the Decepticon base.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Starscream shudders at the touch, but doesn't flinch from the spot. A grimace splits his features, mouth twisting in disgust and eyes burning dull with defiance. Megatron's words cut deeper than he cares to admit, a precision strike right at the heart of everything that has been eating away at him since his master had arrived on this planet.

"Are you quite through with antagonizing and lording your superiority over me now," he growls, sounding utterly exhausted, "or is it your intent to provoke me until I learn some sort of lesson."

"On the contrary," Megatron replies, "I merely wish to make my position clear. Provoking you to anything but self-pity would be its own reward," he adds, "but I believe if that were possible we would not be having this conversation." He lowers his hand; there's a hint of weariness about his own words, now, a sort of annoyed, tired resignation. "Leave me, Starscream. There is nothing to be gained from this."

He's tempted, of course, to just take that order and be on his way, resigned to further moping on his own time. It wasn't as if he'd been trying to involve Megatron in any of this... that had been the very last thing he had wanted.

Being in this close of proximity to Megatron, and so desperate for some kind of tangible grounding in normalcy though...?

One hand shoots out to latch on to Megatron's retreating wrist. It's not a gentle gesture in the slightest, more demanding and insistent and desperate than anything. He can't even bring himself to look the other bot in the eye, and he redirects his gaze down towards the floor. His whole frame is shaking ever so slightly, all that pent up anger truly starting to boil to the surface.

Megatron stops in surprise – and raises his eyebrows in yet further surprise when the meaning of this action becomes clear. "Really, Starscream?" He doesn't sound derisive, though, so much as doubtful.

Starscream's only response to that is to yank harsly at Megatron's wrist in an attempt to pull him down closer, to compensate for the height difference. His other hand goes to Megatron's waist, sharp fingers curling around his back, searching for familiar gaps in the plating there and digging in.

He growls into the cabling of Megatron's neck, and though the other bot can't see it, there's an extremely sour look on his face.

"Don't you dare take this from me," he hisses threateningly, demanding.

Edited 2014-05-21 18:08 (UTC)

He's is tempted to turn him away just because he can, just to make a point of it – Starscream hasn't exactly done himself many favours today, after all, and here he is making demands – but Starscream isn't the only one keen for something, at least, to be normal, and the familiar sting of sharp claws underneath his plating is, Megatron has to admit, not wholly unwelcome.

He murmurs assent in a wordless rumble (it's only a bit like a resigned sigh), and pulls his hand free so that he can unceremoniously tug Starscream closer to him with two claws hooked under his right wing.

"I only meant," he mutters, not in the slightest bit kindly, "that I could not imagine you'd be in the mood."

Starscream grunts his approval at the touch of those claws, hiding his triumphant smirk by keeping his face carefully nestled against Megatron's neck. The wing twitches a bit. “Yes, well... considering the infrequency with which you actually put out, I'd be a fool not to take you up on your offer.”

His now unoccupied hand creeps around Megatron's back to idly trace one claw up and down his spinal strut. It would be an almost tender motion, were it not for the perpetrator having just as much potential for causing pain as pleasure with it, making it almost more threatening a gesture than anything else. Starscream was more than eager to get off of the topic of his 'moods' as quickly as possible, at any rate. “So should I take that as your consent then?” He asks, fishing for some sort of verbal approval. He stands perfectly still like that, only his hands remaining in motion. “Because I'll gladly order Knock Out to go ahead and start the hunt for your missing Prime while I'm otherwise engaged.”

"By all means," says Megatron, his claws following the edge of that wing down to where it joins Starscream's back, and digging in there rather too hard; "go ahead and have Knock Out pick up your slack." The reminder that Orion Pax is still missing makes him disinclined to be generous, but he does not anticipate that Starscream will be, either. Of course, Starscream rarely is...

Sharp claws in a sensitive vital joint cause a strained gasp in Starscream's vocaliser and a spasm in his wing. It's a good kind of pain though, one that he actually rather appreciates. Both sets of talons dig under Megatron's plating and into his back in response, eager to match the old warlord claw for claw (and then some; in his very important opinion, there is some interest owed for the amount of time between their last fling).

Megatron's jab at his lazy deferral of duty doesn't really hit its mark. “Just trying to be efficient, my liege... If I'm going to be otherwise engaged for a bit then someone should start looking,” he rumbles, and pauses to nip at Megatron's neck... something that probably isn't anywhere near as effective as he'd like since he isn't the one of the two of them that has RIDICULOUS SHARK TEETH.

“Besides, if I send him out he'll likely take Breakdown and the troll along with him as well, and that saves me from having to waste my time walking over to lock the damn door and leaving you unattended for too long. Now can we move this somewhere more horizontal already, I'm straining a heel strut trying to reach you like this.”

WHAT YEAR IS IT!?!?

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