There are things I regret

[show_my_cannons]

WHO: Ironhide, OPEN
WHAT: The Roaring Rampage of Revenge starts to wind down, after almost a week of failure. Not even Ironhide can keep going that long.
WHERE: Zones 4 and below.
WHEN: Late night, Sunday.
WARNINGS/NOTES:Prose or action tags are fine. Somewhere in the tag, please note where your character is. And this is open to anyone, but don'

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Zone 5

[talks2stoplight]

With everything that had been happening lately, Ratchet had almost forgotten about a follow up that he'd had with Vergil. Which, thankfully, actually provided a small bit of good news; something he was learning to cling to these days. Everything else was going to slag, but at least his optics weren't malfunctioning.

Afterward, he'd dug up an out of the way place where he could pretend to relax and try to forget about the stress for a while. It was only marginally successful and by the time he got kicked out for closing, it was late. He pinged Wheeljack to let the engineer know he was on his way home--after the incident with Skywarp, he'd made a point of saying something when he was out past curfew, just so the other 'bot didn't short himself out worrying--and started back towards the upper levels. Too late for the trams to run; he'd have to get himself home

[show_my_cannons]

He stopped, going still at the sound of his name. The turn was slow, tense, as if he actually had to force himself to move in any direction besides forward. Part of him, some distant, still-rational part of his processor, wondered if this were the authorities, and he'd finally not managed to avoid the curfew. The lower zones were still rife with late comers and goers, after all.

The 'bot in question dimly registered, and he almost dismissed them. Almost. But he made himself focus on something besides his goal -- this was an ally. A friend. He should speak.

"Yeah?"

His voice was a growl. Not on purpose, but from too many long days of growling and snarling at anything and everyone to cross his path. Worn out, like the rest of him.

"What?"

[talks2stoplight]

Ratchet almost recoils at the look he gets and the tone in Ironhide's voice, but he doesn't and the only thing that gives away the internal startle is a slight widening of his optics. They're quickly narrowed though and he fixes the larger Autobot with a concerned frown.

"What are you doing out here? It's late. Do you even have an exemption on your ID bolt?"

[show_my_cannons]

He stared at the medic for a few moments, before he looked away again, back down the street he was headed. Toward where he was searching. He rolled one shoulder, complete with grinding gears, in a sort of half-shrug. Talking was not helping. Talking didn't find the murderer and tear them apart.

"Been lucky," he grunted out, still facing away. "They have not seen me... not all week."

And then the first question really registered, and the low growl returned, menacing, rumbling.

"I am hunting," he said, simply. "For a murderer."