capitalh | WHAT YEAR IS IT!?!?

Entry tags:

starscream

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.

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He examines the proffered drive, somewhat skeptical, but pleasantly surprised all the same. Pleasantly surprised about the whole thing, in fact – after Starscream had dropped off the radar Megatron had assumed he'd simply fled after failing to retrieve the formula, but instead he'd not only succeeded in getting a hold of it, but, by the sounds of it, followed Megatron's orders to find Orion even though he was in need of repairs, rather than griping down the comm link about how injured he was. Under other circumstances Megatron might have found him at fault for not having someone else sent to handle this when he himself was injured, but considering how easily Knock Out and Breakdown were defeated by the creatures, he doubts it would have made much difference.

"Hm," he says, holding up the drive between the clawtips of one finger and thumb. "Excellent work, Starscream. As you are no doubt aware, we need this formula more than ever... Hopefully this is the genuine article, and not some manner of ruse." He means by Baelheit, of course, but...

Starscream's eyes shoot open, and he looks almost startled for a moment. That was somewhat unexpected... not that it was unheard of for Megatron to give him any sort of praise, but as of their arrival on this planet it seemed like the chances of it happening ever again had been becoming increasingly diminished. The corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, sufficiently mollified, pleased even, by Megatron's voicing of his approval.

It was astoundingly easy to assuage Starscream's ego.

Unfortunately, fixing the damage done by the (in his opinion) utter humiliation he had experienced in the past week is not so easily accomplished, so the relief he feels is somewhat fleeting.

"If it turns out to be a ruse I will personally hunt him down and claw his eyeballs out until he relents and tells us the true location of the information we seek. I'd welcome the opportunity," he hisses on the last note, eyes narrowing dangerously. He still looks troubled, but there's at least more of the familiar old Starscream resurfacing, if only for a moment.

Megatron looks back at him with sinister satisfaction. "Although I would relish the chance to destroy the human myself... I will hold you to that."

His attention is drawn back to the stump dangling uselessly from Starscream's shoulder. "I take it you were unable to retrieve the remains of your arm..."

"Mmmmgh... actually, I was. I managed to wrench it back from the little pest, mostly intact I believe, but it's not exactly an easy task to fly and carry something like that at the same time. I hid it out in the desert, and I still have the coordinates to retrieve it... provided some horrible Earth creature hasn't absconded with it by now."

He gestures with his other hand at the stump. "I'm sure you can tell, but what you see here isn't even part of the original... the girl tore that off right at the shoulder joint. This is some horrible excuse for an appendage that abomination back at the cave stuck on me." He seems to start seething at the mere memory of that. "So if we could get that taken off as soon as possible, I'd be rather grateful."

Megatron nods approvingly – if the arm can in fact be recovered that will certainly save them all a lot of time. Knock Out will need to be put to work with the formula at the earliest convenience, so the less time spent on repairs the better.

"Of course. Give the coordinates to Breakdown so he can retrieve the limb while Knock Out works on detaching this... unfortunate substitute."

Starscream grunts his approval and looks a bit more relaxed, sending a quick message to Breakdown on the matter. "Filthy creature... when I have my other arm back I'm going to rip the damn thing to bits... come to think of it, how did you finally locate us?" he looks back at Megatron, one brow raised with genuine curiosity.

"We had assistance, from an exceptionally useful Alternian youth with contacts among this world's native species," Megatron replies. A brief pause, and then he adds, "But I'm afraid revenge on your captor is out of the question." The fingers of one huge metal hand tighten into a momentary fist, and a dark smile crosses Megatron's face. "I destroyed the creature myself."

"Oh. Well... Good." His eyes flick back away from Megatron. "Less work for me then, I suppose. And it's about time the Alternians started treating our presence here with the proper respect, rather than antagonizing us." Starscream tries his best to hide the disappointment in his voice, but doesn't do a very good job of it... Somehow he feels robbed, like ripping his tormentor apart with his own two hands was the one way he could have regained a sense of control over the situation and restore his wounded pride.

Megatron lifts an eyebrow at his lieutenant's dejected reaction. "Is there a problem, Starscream? I had imagined you would be pleased to hear of your tormentor's destruction."

"It's nothing," he deflects automatically with a forced, good natured smile plastered on his face, indicating that what he was feeling was a bit more than 'nothing'. Discussing something that has him feeling so shamefully upset and vulnerable with Megatron of all people is out of the question. If his Master wanted answers, he wasn't going to get them without actual interest and some skilled coaxing.

Really what Starscream is experiencing is a bout of actual self-pity, the likes of which he has never felt before. Or at least, this was the first time he was consciously acknowledging it rather than expressing it outwardly by turning to anger and taking that out on others. Starscream is not adept at handling his emotions like a proper adult though, so rather than dwell on it he rapidly tries to change the subject to focus on something else more physically tangible that has been bothering him.

"Where is Pax...? I can't help but notice he isn't present here... I thought for sure he'd be laid out in here as well."

It certainly serves well enough as a distraction: Megatron immediately looks away, eyes narrowing, and growls, "Orion Pax has yet to be located."

He doesn't say anything else.

Starscream stares at him, expression blank as the many implications of Megatron's words hit home. He has a sinking feeling in his tanks about this...

There's a scrape of metal on metal as he sits up to face Megatron more directly. "What do you mean he has yet to be located?" Starscream growls quietly, wings tucking back in an involuntary display of alarm momentarily, before they flare out once more as he gestures angrily with his one arm. "We were taken to the same facility, he was there the whole time I was!"

If Orion Pax was still missing, it meant that everything Starscream had suffered through had been truly pointless.

Megatron looks back at him with narrowed eyes, faintly surprised at his reaction, but no less displeased about the entire thing.

"Evidently not," he replies curtly. "The facility's other locations were also demolished, but there has been no sign of Orion, we have been unable to track his signal, and we have received no contact from him. If he still lives, he is likely in captivity."

"Other locations? There were more!?" This was getting to be a bit much to process all at once.

"Were," says Megatron. "I fail to see what difference it makes. The fact remains that Orion Pax is no longer with us – and his recapture is of paramount importance." He huffs out a grim sigh. "I hope I do not need to explain that if you have any information about Orion's time in captivity that could aid in bringing him back to us, I would appreciate your sharing it."

Starscream is quiet for a moment, reflecting carefully.
"He mentioned something at one point, that the creature had been using him to transport items between certain locations. I had assumed he meant specific drop points, but if what he actually meant was the other full bases..."

He stares dully at his remaining hand. "I'd start with piecing together likely routes on the human highways between all of the bases, and investigate for signs of his abduction there. If he hasn't gone off and starved to death somewhere."

Megatron frowns, but thoughtfully. That's definitely useful to know, even if by now it might be too late...

"Good," he says after a moment's consideration, although he doesn't sound particularly optimistic. "I will resume the search with that in mind." A brief pause, during which Megatron contemplates trying to get to the bottom of what exactly has Starscream so unusually listless and morose, and decides firmly against it. "After Knock Out has seen to your arm I expect your assistance in this task."

"Well, naturally," Starscream responds smoothly, displaying a familiar glimmer of his usual cocky, self-assured attitude. It still seems rather hollow a display though. It feels rather hollow. His tiny smirk melts back into a frown as he starts to become aware of how trapped he feels once more, anxiety building up, and he shakes his head as if to dislodge the very notion from his person.

A flight would be the perfect distraction, but unfortunately his one wing is still busted up, so that option was off the table. With a grunt of effort he shifts to dangle his legs over the side of the berth for a moment, joints creaking from a lack of use. Perhaps if he could just get up and walk for a bit... he probably wasn't cleared to be moving around much yet, but he really just needed some kind of physical motion to ground him back into reality for a while.

"Have Knock Out call for me once Breakdown returns, if you'd be so kind. I've had my fill of sitting still and doing nothing."

"Very well," says Megatron, and with that he straightens up to leave. He pauses at the door, though, looks back at Starscream, almost thoughtfully, and adds, "I have other matters to attend to, but if there are any further concerns that you wish to raise with me once you are repaired... I am quite sure I would appreciate the diversion."

He doesn't wait for a reply.

And so Starscream is left sitting there, alone with his thoughts... and a nagging curiosity towards that last statement. Perhaps he would take Megatron up on that offer...

For now he resigns himself to sliding off the berth and hobbling his way out of the med bay to wander listlessly around the ship, good for basically less than nothing at the moment with only one arm and an exhausted mind.

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WHAT YEAR IS IT!?!?

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