damned_institute | Day 40: Lunch

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Day 40: Lunch

*hobble wobble*

"Damn that SCOURGE!" Starscream cried out, the slowly-filling cafeteria producing a jarring echo of his raspy voice. His limping, already bad enough from not knowing how to properly use his crutches, was now exacerbated from the injuries he'd received the shift prior. Despite the gauges in his non-casted leg so lovingly provided by the aforementioned 'patient', Starscream could still put some weight on it, but not so much that he could really stop and rest; relieving the soreness under his arms was out of the question. The nurse that walked behind him with his tray, already upset at having to deal with yet another troublesome inmate, was growing rather impatient as his charge slowly made his way down the food line.

"Just...give me a standard serving of the aquatic creature's flesh, some of those fried potato slices, two bananas, and three bottles of juice," Starscream sighed, his anger from just a moment ago assuaged by the physical exertion needed to move the way he did. "I'm going to sit down here...bring it to me when you're done."

He was hardly surprised to find that one of the bananas was completely bruised along its inner curve, or that the handful of 'chips' on his plate were all on the small side. Tired and frustrated as he was, however, he could barely muster a 'damned flesh-creature' before moving his fingers to the plate, picking one of the longer 'chips' and shoving it into his mouth listlessly.

There was an unusually high concentration of sodium chloride crystals on it. Of COURSE.

[For Tony Stark]

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"Yeah. That's right." The way he said the word didn't exactly strike confidence into Depth Charge's spark. Yet another Cybertronian who'd never heard of the Maximals- to be honest, he'd put it down to Blitzwing and Lugnut's negative collective IQ at first, but now? It looked like he really was alone here.

Not like he wasn't used to that.

"And you're the bounty hunter from Blitzwing and Lugnut's side of the universe. Which makes you a 'con." He narrowed his eyes a touch. "I don't think I need to tell you that I'm not a fan."

Lockdown shrugged, and started on the crispy meat. "Only on by default," Lockdown said in between bites. "Most Decepticons only seem to care about universal domination. As for me, I'm just in it for the rewards. Someone wants to involve me in some diabolical plan, I'll only go along with it if it means I'll get something out of it."

He wasn't trying to win Depth Charge over, he was simply stating the facts. He could tell right away that he and this 'Maximal' were definatly not going to get along.

So Lockdown was the pay-em-and-slay-em type. Just gear. On one hand, meeting a Cybertronian who wasn't a card-carrying Megatron obsessive made a refreshing change. On the other, it meant that he couldn't trust the guy for slag unless currency was involved. And yet, even that had an oddly reliable ring to it. He relented.

'Diabolical plan', huh?" He sat back, catching the man's eye briefly. "Well. Just so long as it's nothing to do with me, I don't give a frag. I've got bigger fish to-" He broke off suddenly. Not any more you don't, pal. "I'm not interested in politics," he finished eventually, cursing silently. How was it that X had managed to sink so deeply into him?

"Neither am I, to be honest," Lockdown replied. "A good bounty hunter doesn't ask too many questions about his job."

The Maximal's sudden break off in the middle of his sentence had not been lost on Lockdown. Taking another bite of meat ('fish', was it called?), he stared intently at Depth Charge. "You're after someone or something, aren't you?"

Depth Charge's response was swift, sharp and painful- probably more for him than the Decepticon.

"None of your fragging business," he snarled, clenching his fists. Without realising it, Lockdown had managed to take a shot at the motherboard of all open wounds. Not his fault, of course, he could never have known, but since when was the Maximal ever rational these days? The last thing he wanted now was to be reminded that... that...

Lockdown's optics widened in surprise when Depth Charge snapped at him. Cleary, the subject of the question was something very close to Depth Charge. What that something was or what it was all about, Lockdown had no idea. Perhaps Depth Charge had a dead lover he though might be here? Or maybe he had a revenge kick that he wanted to settle?

Either way, this looked like prime entertainment to Lockdown. And Lockdown's idea of entertainment was never nice or sensitive.

He ate a yellow strip (a 'chip', perhaps?), trying to hide the little smirk that threatened to creep across his lips. "My, my, aren't we the sensitive one?"

"Blow it out your exhaust port, Decepticreep, "he retorted, snatching up his fork so that he'd have something to keep his hands busy with- something told Depth Charge that Lockdown would be getting pretty close and personal with his fist if he didn't.

The initial flush of anger behind him, he managed to even out his tone just enough to keep himself from being sedated. Slowly, he met the 'con's eyes with a steely coldness. "I don't have to take this slag. Why the Pit do you care so much, anyway?"

Lockdown could tell that he had struck a nerve-cord. The Maximal was getting defensive. Oh, this looked like it was going to be fun.

The bounty hunter made his expression look hurt. "What, a Decepticon's not allowed to be curious?"

"Not unless he wants his tailpipe handed to him on a titanium platter." Depth Charge stared fixedly across the table at the 'con, still glowering menacingly at him but now with a hint of wariness about him as well. What was this guy's angle, anyway? "Don't push it."

Still feigning innocence, Lockdown said, "What, you afraid I'm a spy for Blitzwing? Relax, I'm not working for that insane triple-changer." He wasn't sure if Depth Charge had met Starscream or not. Nontheless, he wasn't going to tell the Maximal who he was working for.

If nothing else, it was fun to watch Depth Charge squirm.

Depth Charge's face remained stony. Working for Blitzwing or not, the last person he wanted to tell about X was Lockdown. So far he'd only let Javert know, and even with the buffer of talking to someone who seemed to understand it had still felt like taking several hefty blows to the gearbox- embarrassing, painful and acutely personal. Reliving that with a 'con of all people, now that would have been insane.

"... tch. Just stay out of it." This time his voice lowered to little more than a cautionary growl. By the looks of things, threatening the guy wouldn't get him anywhere. What had he expected? He was, after all, a bounty hunter.

Lockdown managed to surpress an amused snicker. Seems Depth Charge had decided to threatening him and change tactics. He didn't care whether or not the Maximal told him or not. It was all just a game. However, it looked as though this game was going to get old quickly.

"Fine, don't tell me," He said in a casual way. He then switched gears, and tried to take the game in a new direction. He sized Depth Charge up with his optics, then said, "What were you supposed to be anyway? A car, a tank?" He wondered if the Maximal's previous body had any good mods on it, ripe for the taking.

At first, Depth Charge had been glad to see a subject change on the horizon. Thinking about it now, though? Slagging 'con...

"A manta ray." A pause. "Laugh, and I tear out your diodes and ram them up your rear thruster." And he really meant it- the last thing he wanted was for the guy to remember him as the happy little fish-bot. His Beast Mode had been a lot more deadly than the initial description might have lead one to believe.

Time for a little deflection. "What about you?"

Lockdown raised an eyebrow. "A what? Just what the slag is a manta ray? That some kind of new or plane or boat?" Furthermore, did it have any parts worth taking, such as good limb grafts?

In response to Depth Charge's question, he said, "A muscle car." There was no problem with revealing his own alt. mode. Unless the Maximal turned out to have a particular vehicle fetish or something.

For the first time in stellar cycles, Depth Charge thanked Primus. Apparently, Lockdown hadn't spent enough time on earth to check out the wildlife.

"It's an organic creature. Ocean-based," he explained, less defensive now that he could be sure that the Decepticon wasn't going to be getting any overly-cutesy ideas, "though I had a third hover mode too. Not that I got much of a choice- the Earth I landed on didn't have anything but animals on it." Then, curiosity winning out, he tilted his head to one side. "So the Earth you knew had vehicles. Primitive scrap, I'm guessing?"

"Your alt. mode is an organic ocean creature?" Lockdown asked incredulously. "So, what, you're like Blackarachnia or something?" He didn't stop to think that Blackarachnia might not exist in Depth Charge's universe.

And Depth Charge had said that his Earth only had animals, and no vehicles. Lockdown couldn't imagine having to take an organic alt. mode. The idea was just too weird. Slag, Blackarachnia was weird enough by herself without a whole hoard of others like her.

When the Maximal asked his question, Lockdown composed himself and answered. "Yes, quite primitive. Although, I was lucky and did not have to change my vehicle mode. Seems that it looked similar enough to an Earth vehicle for me to pass off as one."

"Figures. The humans I saw didn't exactly strike me as scientists." Understatement of the millennium. "But seriously. Blackarachnia?" The image of a familiarly infuriating femmebot surfaced from his memory core- forget the Preds, she'd caused more than enough conflict for the Maximals by herself. It was Depth Charge's turn to be incredulous now and he raised an accusing eyebrow. "You really think I'm like Blackarachni-"

Wait a nanoklik. How did this guy know Blackarachnia? Weren't they supposed to be from different universes? Unless, of course, there was more than one Blackarachnia in existence. Not an attractive prospect, so long as your name wasn't Silverbolt or Cheetor.

"So there's a Blackarachnia in your universe as well. Frag." He shook his head slightly, somewhat bewildered. "She gets everywhere."

So, it seemed there was indeed a Blackarchnia from where Depth Charge came from. "So it seems. She's an odd one, her. Even she knows it." Lockdown had only met her a couple of times, but those two times were enough for him to assess her. Unlike Blackarachnia, however, Depth Charge did not seem bitter and spiteful towards his beast mode.

"Hah. 'Odd' isn't the word I'd use." More like 'scheming', or 'underhanded', or maybe even 'devious, wily little she-bot'. For whatever reason, though, Primal seemed to trust her, as did Silverbolt- and for all their spark-blowing stupidity, neither of them were blind. Not that that mean he had to like her.

Enough reminiscing. He watched Lockdown's face carefully, tone hardening a touch. "You seem pretty in with the 'cons for someone who's just in it for the money."

Lockdown shrugged, and took a sip of liquid. "One particular unit hires me more than others. When you spend enough time with someone, you get to know them quite well." Ever since the war ended, work hadn't been as bustling as it used to be. "Every other mech who hired me, it was usually a one-time deal, and I never heard from them again. That particular unit were my best customers."

When he put it like that, it wasn't surprising. Since when were Blitzwing and Lugnut capable of pulling anything worth slag off without outside help? But even if they didn't seem too much of a threat (especially with their somewhat uneasy truce still in place), a repeat performance from Lockdown implied talent. And that had the potential to be very, very bad for him indeed.

"So you're pretty in-demand, huh. Must be worth the holo-chips." A statement, not a question. "Level with me here. Just how good would you say you were?"

"Yes, holo-chips are nice, but I usually only take them as payment when the employer has no good upgrades or mods to pay me with." Not that he couldn't scavage what he could off his prey.

He started on his salad, taking one bite before deciding that he didn't like the sauce he had poured on it. Pushing his salad aside, Lockdown answered Depth Charge's question, "Well, you could say that I'm the greatest bounty hunter on Cybertron. I'm a weapons expert and know many different fighting styles, including Circuit-Su and Metallikato. I've never failed a mission." Well, that wasn't true for one instance, but Lockdown wasn't about to let that slip. He remembered Starscream's reaction to his capture of Optimus Prime, and he wondered if Depth Charge would have the same reaction. "Not to mention that I once subdued and captured Optimus Prime."

A scavenger too, huh? Depth Charge's hands jerked a little, as if out of a latent desire to protect his parts from roving thieves. Not that they have been much use to Lockdown, even if he had still been in his original form; from the sounds of things, Lockdown was a lot larger than Depth Charge had ever been. One of those evolutionary changes that had occurred between the Great War and the present day.

The 'con's other claim, however, attracted a little more attention. "Optimus Prime?" he managed, barely able to keep the surprise and (begrudging) respect out of his voice, "The Optimus Prime? As in, the big guy? Leader of the Autobots?" He sat back, shaking his head. "I don't buy it."

If it was true, though... he eyed Lockdown suspiciously, face unreadable. If it was true, the guy had just gotten a Pitload more dangerous.

Lockdown was pleased when Depth Charge gave the desired reaction. So, he was right, the Optimus Prime from these other universes was indeed more famous and high-ranking than the Prime of his own universe. From the sound of it, the other Prime was to them was Ultra Magnus was to the Autobots of his universe.

"That's right, the Optimus Prime. He went down without much trouble. Neither did the little rescue party that came after him." He purposely left out the part where Ratchet had gotten the better of him. The more dangerous he made himself sound, the better chance he had of Depth Charge not trying anything against him in the future.

Depth Charge had to hand it to him. That was a pretty impressive resume, providing none of it was a lie. And there was no way he was going to swallow it all without some kind of proof. He sat back, watching Lockdown's face warily for any twitches or tics, any tell-tale sign that would tell him just how truthful he was being. Well, that smug grin certainly spoke volumes; whatever the case, the guy was obviously pretty slagging pleased with himself. But there was one thing that the Maximal didn't understand...

"If you managed to capture Optimus Prime, why is the Crazy Brigade still howling for 'bot mech-fluid? Surely that would have ended the war?"

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ruthless-hunter.livejournal.com - 2009-04-09 16:01 (UTC) - Expand

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