Nightshift 39: M31-40 Hallway
Along with giving him an idea for a good cover story, Scourge's conversation with the soldier-human on the bulletin board had made the tracker stop and think about his place in the Decepticon hierarchy. More specifically, the fact that he didn't have one. Galvatron wasn't here anymore, there was no one who he was obligated to by virtue of creation. He was a free agent for the first time in his life, and it wasn't as scary as he thought it'd be.
Lugnut and Blitzwing probably wouldn't be too happy with him thinking like this, but who cared? They were both crazy, Blitzwing random and Lugnut stubborn, and without a stabilizing Cyclonus-like influence Scourge suspected they wouldn't get very far. Better to get himself a better footing with someone saner and just give lip service to "mighty Megatron" when it was convenient.
In the meantime, Scourge had to see a Superboy about a virginity. What exactly that would entail he wasn't really sure, but it sounded a lot more fun than raiding the kitchen with pointless idiots who seemed to be liking him less and less as things went on.
The tracker took out the wooden cooking spoon he'd found last night, set it on the floor with his foot on the scoop end, and yanked upwards. The spoon cracked and left him with a long rod with a dangerously pointy and splintered end that would probably at least distract anything with a squishy place to stick it in. Better than nothing. The makeshift wooden shiv went in one pocket, the flashlight in the other--with his eyes he wouldn't need it for anything but small details and it would be easier to hide in the dark. The handle of the pan went in his hand and the tracker cautiously went out into the hallway. Let him be a force to be reckoned with.
Or at least one that made the other guy look like a tastier option.
[ To here.]
Lugnut and Blitzwing probably wouldn't be too happy with him thinking like this, but who cared? They were both crazy, Blitzwing random and Lugnut stubborn, and without a stabilizing Cyclonus-like influence Scourge suspected they wouldn't get very far. Better to get himself a better footing with someone saner and just give lip service to "mighty Megatron" when it was convenient.
In the meantime, Scourge had to see a Superboy about a virginity. What exactly that would entail he wasn't really sure, but it sounded a lot more fun than raiding the kitchen with pointless idiots who seemed to be liking him less and less as things went on.
The tracker took out the wooden cooking spoon he'd found last night, set it on the floor with his foot on the scoop end, and yanked upwards. The spoon cracked and left him with a long rod with a dangerously pointy and splintered end that would probably at least distract anything with a squishy place to stick it in. Better than nothing. The makeshift wooden shiv went in one pocket, the flashlight in the other--with his eyes he wouldn't need it for anything but small details and it would be easier to hide in the dark. The handle of the pan went in his hand and the tracker cautiously went out into the hallway. Let him be a force to be reckoned with.
Or at least one that made the other guy look like a tastier option.
[ To here.]