[binary code transmission]

[sword_redemption]

[After this]

011100000111001001101001011100110110110100100000000011010000101000001101000010100000110100001010

.....

01100100011011110110111000100111011101000010000001110100011100100111010101110011011101000000110
10000101000001101000010100000110100001010

...

011100110111000001100001011100100110101100001101000010100000110100001010


01100101011110000111000001100101011100100110100101101101011001010110111001110100011100110000110100001010

....

....

01100011011011110110110101101101001000000110010001101001011100110110000101100010011011000110010101100100

.......

01101000011001010110110001110000  [*coordinates*]


[Binary translation courtesy of this translates to: Prism....don't trust....spark experiments...comm disabled...help. Drift will be unable to reply via comm. So. uh. get creative? ]

Comments

[Action!]

[my_own_trope]

A dark, private little smile spread over Starscream's face at that last message. "Don't thank me just yet," he murmured to the air.

As horrid as this planet and its inhabitants were, Starscream really couldn't say he wasn't thrilled to be surrounded by so many gullible fools. Everything was shaping up quite nicely, and while some of his projects were going a little slower than he'd have liked... well, he could readjust his schedule.

Like this little detour for instance. He'd been doing supply runs and that left him near enough to the junk pile that when -- what was the mech's name? Drift, wasn't it? Yes, it was Drift -- that when Drift's sad little message had hit the airwaves, he'd been sure he'd be able to reach him first. And while that meant he'd have to forgo some supplies that might be snatched up by some other scavenger, if Starscream scored himself a Tcog then today would still be in the green.

Picking his way over the debris, he scanned for his victim.

[Action!]

[sword_redemption]

you scoundrel!

Drift had dragged himself into a small hollow in the dunes of junk, one of his smaller swords drawn over the ruin of his chassis. The thing had cracked his chestplate, mauled part of his helm and one of his wrists sparked fitfully as he lay.

He hears the footsteps approach and tightens his hand on the sword, blue spiderwebbed optics wary.

Herp derp pretend there are brackets up there and such, etc.

[my_own_trope]

[Some might even say a scallywag!

Around a mound of garbage comes a vision in heels and gray. Or you know, around the mound of crap comes a robot who is so slender it's bordering on ridiculous. I mean honestly, the guy was even slimmer than Rung in some place and that was saying something.

Finally spying Drift, Starscream tilted his head back to get a good look.]

"Relax; help has arrived~."

[There was nothing out of the ordinary about the way Starscream's eyes sized up the fallen mech -- completely normal. Who wouldn't be able to stare at all that damage? Furthermore, isolating and understanding the damage was a totally legitimate first step in rescue & recovery.]

oh gosh no I think my html fail FAR surpasses yours *facepalm*

[sword_redemption]

[It's a vision, all right.]

[He lets the sword fall slack, giving a relieved vent of air.]

Thank you for coming.

[Of course. After Delphi, Drift's gotten a little used to being eyeballed as a series of symptoms. He's not exactly a feast for the optics any other way, after all. ]

/casually uses quotation marks and action!brackets

[my_own_trope]

[Starscream offers an almost demure half-smile as he circles around Drift and then drops daintily to a crouch at his side.]

Put the sword away, it's making me nervous.

[Even as he says that, he's reaching for the weapon.]

format is for the peons.

[sword_redemption]

....not really...in any shape....

[He's really not. His chestplate's been sheared open, the internal components mauled, his body slick with clotty energon.]

[He lets the jet pry the sword from his fingers.] ...looks that bad, huh?

He's going to keep the sword if no one takes it back from him

[my_own_trope]

[He hardly seems concerned at all, and certainly not alarmed. If anything, he looks like he's trying to calculate something. Breezily:]

I've had worse. [That tends to happen when your boss is Megatron.] You'll be fine so long you do as I say.

Now. How still.

[One hand dips into the hole in Drift's chest, inspecting an artery-like line.]

Aside from the damage it looks like your system is healthy.

it's not the Great Sword so no biggie, but Vandal and Gunmax probably will get it back anyway. :)

[sword_redemption]

[He's heard 'do as I say' a few too many times lately, mostly from Prism. He tenses up, optics wary. But he doesn't move, optics merely fixed on Starscream's face, until the line about healthy.]

[Because he's not. And he knows it. His fuel lines are corroded from Pharma's 'cure', his autorepair overstressed to the point of heatstrain...even before this.]

[One hand grabs for one of the smaller wrists.]

No.

IN COMES THE CALVARY

[engrishdetective]

[What's this? Can you sense the abrupt bad English in the air as well as a horrible attitude and a tiny bit of crazy?

That'd be Gunmax and Vandal coming over on the biker's motorcycle. And suffice it to say, when Gunmax arrives?

He looks extremely ticked, Starscream.]

Well, well. What do we have here.

[He leaps off of Gunbike, almost recklessly it seems, but the motorcycle seems to know to go into park as Gunmax goes after Starscream immediately.]

DA DA DAAAAAAAAAAAA

[vandalization]

[Vandal struggles out of the not-so-dignified sidecar, trading her plasma cutter for her Line Gun and leveling it with Starscream, not stopping her approach.]

Get the fuck away from him, asshole. One wrong move and I take your legs off.

[It's hard to keep her eyes off the hole in Drift's chest. Holy fuck... fortunately Ratchet gave her a crash-course in basic Cybertronian first-aid.]