[Open!] - Memoirs of a Cassette...
WHO: Magnum and !you!
WHAT: Megatron attempts to get used to being a cassetibird, even while vehemently denying his attempts to get used to anything impermanent.
WHERE: Zones 3-6. Flight patterns vary, and he's still crashing into things a lot.
WHEN: Now-ish
WARNINGS/NOTES: In waiting for his new body to be finished, Soundwave offered Megatron a ( Read more... )
WHAT: Megatron attempts to get used to being a cassetibird, even while vehemently denying his attempts to get used to anything impermanent.
WHERE: Zones 3-6. Flight patterns vary, and he's still crashing into things a lot.
WHEN: Now-ish
WARNINGS/NOTES: In waiting for his new body to be finished, Soundwave offered Megatron a ( Read more... )
His familiarity was limited, for the time being; having just arrived not so long ago, he's still constructing his maps based on familiar landmarks. Streets and addresses will come later. Keeping one pair of optics on the streets and buildings in the area. The other pair glanced to the bird. Barricade had already come to terms with the fact that he was shoddy at pretending to be... himself. Besides, playing at being the other him hardly helped him get any information on the other him. The worst that could happen from admitting it was more warning that Megatron would not be happy, which he certainly was not.
"Not very. Seems our illustrious captors wanted a replacement for their previous me." He flashed a sharp grin. "Wanted the pretty one instead." The egotist act occasionally worked. On the other Decepticons he knew, anyway.
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The plan, of course, was simple. If he could get Barricade close enough to his hideout, he could call for Soundwave or Lugnut to dispose of him when he had gotten there. However...
...this Barricade was not the one he'd worked with, long ago...
...and as such, was not necessarily one that could not be swayed, with proper motivations. So he'd provide information to this creature...anything he wanted...
...and make sure he got something back, in return.
"What are they having you do, that you can perform better?"
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And he can't see that any good will come of his orders. Not with his shiny new charge in desperate need of repairs.
As it were, he can't see much good coming from this, either. He doesn't have luck, so it stood to reason that his 'reward' for this was as likely a rocket to the face as it was petty cash. The plan was simple; ditch the bird a fair distance from its destination.
Not before a bit of information, though. Maybe not before getting word out of his skills. Medics couldn't be a dime a dozen, not with Ratchet apparently absent... neverminding his less workable skills. His slightly more valuable skills.
"Primus only knows what he was up to." He snorted out a chuckle. "Seems I fair bit more skill at several things than he might have. Hm. How well you know this zone, sparrow?"
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Having found a good spot, he settled down to enjoy the journey, pointing out a faster, more direct path if he noticed Barricade leaning towards the popular (and longer) routes.
"...well enough, wheel-bound. For instance, I know that the Scarlet Wheelwells rigs their gambling machines...but can give big payouts for those that know their Stacks and Splinters." He answers, picking a new direction with a smugness to his tone, giving information for information. "I can tell you more, if you are interested. Oh, and...what kinds of skills? Just in case I know someone in need of them. You'd be surprised how many mechs I meet in my line of duty."
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Really, taking the longer routes had been the idea. But showing faith in someone else's directions is bonding, or something. He's just pleased that the bird managed to get comfortable.
"Not much of a gambler, but I'm always interested in information. Used to be my trade, during the war." This one is more clever than most of the smaller mechs Barricade has met. Besides... Well. Needless to say, he makes a point to keep an optic on him. "As for my workable skills, I'm a fairly capable medic. Mostly repairing Tyrans, but I'm a fast learner." He's exeptionally good at taking mechs apart, too, but tha isn't something he talks about. Not with mechs he just met... that aren't his superiors.
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He took a step in closer to Barricade, sidling up to his head almost conspiratorially. "There are...other options....however, for those that might be looking for a change--or just those that might be getting tired of being caged for the Transtech's enjoyment. Of course, since you don't know me, and since I don't know you--all this can be taken with a grain of salt. But if you're interested--join a few fights at the Decibel arena, and see who shows up. It might be worth your time."
"...if nothing else, they're always looking for good medics, there--and they pay well enough. Its not so difficult to...download a bit of info from warriors who are knocked out, also."
Conspiracy finished, he stepped back to his previous perch, and settled down, stealing a bit of heat from his current companion. Flying had proven to be moderately cold, even if he wasn't staying in the air for long.
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He listens carefully to the bird's conspiracy, engine humming quietly. He repeats the suggestion in his processor and lets it rumble through his subvoc for a moment before storing it. It might be worth looking into; he has been on the lookout for a job where he might not have to deal with the Tyran Autobots' medics, after all. Much as he'd enjoy the irony of spats in a medical clinic. And it would give him some sense of not mooching completely off of Bonecrusher.
"Appreciate the tip. Might check it out, when I have the time." Which he always has, when he's not fixing his roommate/boss/whichever-of-his-'cons-call-him or scrounging for serviceable parts.
He looks over to the bird settling back onto his shoulder, appraising. "So aside from the obvious, how's that flying thing work out?" He's known plenty of airframes, but he's never for the life of him understood the appeal.
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"But you should." Especially since, if all his plans went well, there wouldn't be an Arena around for much longer to check out. It would do Barricade well to visit it while it was standing...
...which, as it turned out, was now, as the pair of them came closer to the address.
"It isn't. There's a reason why its called the 'lame bird' contest." He smirked. "...which is why I'll be heading off now. If you want to claim your prize...
Come back, in a week. Ask for Magnum. Bring a friend if you are worried about a scam--he won't mind."
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"Week from now, ask after Magnum," he repeats, to reassure. He cues it onto his priority list. "And depending on the scam... I've lost nothing for the walk here, and if he plans to find spare parts, he'd have trouble retrieving them from me." It's not a threat in the least, just conversation. Besides, there's something suspicious about the instructions.
"Though I suppose I can check about available work, so long as I'm here. Would be a wasted oppotunity."
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