Laid to Waste
Yet another drabble, because I couldn't get the image out of my head. Might write more for it, might not. Warning for extreme injury.
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Starscream was still reading an energy signature from the mech, so he wasn’t dead, but he certainly looked the worse for wear, slumped back against the wall like that. Cautiously, nullray aimed at the still form, he stalked up to him and did a quick visual inspection: Multiple scrapes across his entire body, burn-marks and heavy denting, fluid leaking from his joints into multi-colored puddles beneath him, one door-wing ripped nearly completely away, and his left optic was shattered.
The Autobot Second-in-Command was a mess.
Kneeling down to look still closer, Starscream saw that there was even liquid leaking from the broken optic, but not the transparent, cleansing kind that would be normal for an injury there. No, it was the brown-tinted fluid of hydraulics. The Seeker didn’t even want to know how hydraulic fluid had ended up that high - the nearest source would have been the jaw-hinges, if he remembered his anatomy correctly.
“I don’t know if I should take you in for interrogation or for scrap metal,” he scoffed to himself. Mildly curious, Starscream reached to the back of the tactician’s helm and lightly poked an area that was torn right open - he’d never touched a living mech’s processors before…
As soon as his fingers made contact, though, there was the sparking of electricity and he pulled back from the shock. Prowl convulsed, throwing his head back and gagging. His one optic lit up, over-bright, and the dark sludge of partially-processed energon welled up in his mouth. The convulsions continued as he choked, purple muck spilling from his upturned face, and Starscream recoiled in disgust. White helm falling forwards again, the pool of energon sloshed out all across Prowl’s front.
Once it appeared that the Datsun’s fuel tanks were emptied and the involuntary spasms had ceased, Starscream moved nearer again. “Prowl?” He leant down and tipped his own head to look up at the downturned face. The blue optic was still online, though it looked unfocused and dim, now. “Oh, Prowl~?” There was no visible reaction, so he jabbed one finger into the mech’s functioning door-wing (a relatively clean space, so he wouldn’t get all icky). The half-dead mech jerked lightly in response, a messy exhalation sending a new splatter of purple droplets to the ground between his thighs.
“Goodness, but you are disgusting, aren’t you?” Starscream hummed amusedly to himself. “I suppose that I will simply be forced to take you back to the Nemesis and see if Hook can repair you enough for Soundwave to hack your CPU - assuming that there is anything left worth hacking.” Considering what the back of Prowl’s helm looked like right now, that was subject to doubt.
“Starscream to Skywarp.”
“Yeah?” came the reply via internal comm.
“North side of the battlefield, just behind the big building - I need you to help me carry something.”
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/4566.html.
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Starscream was still reading an energy signature from the mech, so he wasn’t dead, but he certainly looked the worse for wear, slumped back against the wall like that. Cautiously, nullray aimed at the still form, he stalked up to him and did a quick visual inspection: Multiple scrapes across his entire body, burn-marks and heavy denting, fluid leaking from his joints into multi-colored puddles beneath him, one door-wing ripped nearly completely away, and his left optic was shattered.
The Autobot Second-in-Command was a mess.
Kneeling down to look still closer, Starscream saw that there was even liquid leaking from the broken optic, but not the transparent, cleansing kind that would be normal for an injury there. No, it was the brown-tinted fluid of hydraulics. The Seeker didn’t even want to know how hydraulic fluid had ended up that high - the nearest source would have been the jaw-hinges, if he remembered his anatomy correctly.
“I don’t know if I should take you in for interrogation or for scrap metal,” he scoffed to himself. Mildly curious, Starscream reached to the back of the tactician’s helm and lightly poked an area that was torn right open - he’d never touched a living mech’s processors before…
As soon as his fingers made contact, though, there was the sparking of electricity and he pulled back from the shock. Prowl convulsed, throwing his head back and gagging. His one optic lit up, over-bright, and the dark sludge of partially-processed energon welled up in his mouth. The convulsions continued as he choked, purple muck spilling from his upturned face, and Starscream recoiled in disgust. White helm falling forwards again, the pool of energon sloshed out all across Prowl’s front.
Once it appeared that the Datsun’s fuel tanks were emptied and the involuntary spasms had ceased, Starscream moved nearer again. “Prowl?” He leant down and tipped his own head to look up at the downturned face. The blue optic was still online, though it looked unfocused and dim, now. “Oh, Prowl~?” There was no visible reaction, so he jabbed one finger into the mech’s functioning door-wing (a relatively clean space, so he wouldn’t get all icky). The half-dead mech jerked lightly in response, a messy exhalation sending a new splatter of purple droplets to the ground between his thighs.
“Goodness, but you are disgusting, aren’t you?” Starscream hummed amusedly to himself. “I suppose that I will simply be forced to take you back to the Nemesis and see if Hook can repair you enough for Soundwave to hack your CPU - assuming that there is anything left worth hacking.” Considering what the back of Prowl’s helm looked like right now, that was subject to doubt.
“Starscream to Skywarp.”
“Yeah?” came the reply via internal comm.
“North side of the battlefield, just behind the big building - I need you to help me carry something.”
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/4566.html.