[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... )
Though he slowed and eventually came to a stop when he saw a bird crash into the pavement. Well, that's ironic. And odd. It was a flier, obviously enough, so why did it seem to have a problem with that staying in the air thing? Not to mention that it looked awfully... small. Symbiont? He saved the question for later.
"I've heard the flying thing works better if you actually try to stay in the air," he rumbled, tone deadpanned.
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If there was a god, Magnum got the feeling that he wasn't well liked. If there was a Primus, and especially if there was a transtech Primus, he'd have really prefered this dislike just be shown by expelling him to another universe. A living one. HIS universe would have been most preferable.
But that didn't really happen, did it.
Strange that THAT didn't happen, but that winding up millions of years, millions of miles, and millions of instances away from home in the body of HIS communication's officer's cassette...DID happen.
Frag.
Just...frag it all.
He even recognized this intruder...one of Malus's Tyrans. One of the Decepticons that used to follow him ( ... )
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But he had a job of some sort and a roof over his head (which was the pay for his job), and that was important. And now he'd found a bird that was calling itself lame and giving directions. Here he'd thought two Megatrons would be the most bizarre thing he would encounter here.
Still, he could pretend friendliness. Maybe get something out of this.
Maybe just get taken for a ride. Hmm.
"Sounds like a Nigerian scam e-mail t'me," he proclaimed, cocking up one brow ridge. Still, he lowered his arm in offering. "Can the 'lame bird' climb any better than he flies?"
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If nothing else, there was now an arm extended, and he carefully reached out a claw to get a grip, then started walking awkwardly up the arm using his wings to steady himself.
...that helped, actually, and the more he thought on that the more he started to realize what he'd been doing wrong up in the air. Part of it...was...just balance.
He looked at Barricade again, wondering what he'd been up to in the several months it had been since he'd seen him...
...and decided there were other ways to find out.
Cocking his head, he repeated the message:
"Congratulations! You are the lucky winner of the 'Find the Lame Bird' contest! To claim your prize, please return the bird to 111 North Metal Street, Zone 6, sublevel 4." And settled on the Tyran's shoulder. "I am not..." A pause, constructing his farce a bit. "...paid to say more than that."
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...interesting.
Interesting, as in 'it didn't work.'
"...it is a well-known contest in the area. A simple drone would not be able to execute as randomized of movements." This...was a test of his own, feeling out how well Barricade was familiarized with Zone 6. He...hadn't reacted to being fed the address of the Decibel Arena, twice...but, then again, not many people knew the actual address of the Arena. "Have you been in the Nexus long?"
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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 ( ... )
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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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