| abstract
| - October 30, 2011 (Throne Room, Polyhex) --- Megatron glowers at the throne room doors as he waits for them to open, his dark hands curling tight over the armrests of his throne. It seems that every time he has reason to suspect matters in the medbay have calmed down, something *else* goes wrong. It's not entirely unexpected, of course. The traitors' removal left a massive power vacuum in the repair campus, and it's only natural that various Decpeticons would fight over it, whine about it, plot about it, and form and dissolve alliances as dynamics shifted and everyone formed their own opinions on what should happen next. But that doesn't make the news he just heard about Starscream's recent behavior any less *irritating.* Starscream saunters in, fairly sure of the reason he's been summoned. That scrapheap of a medic brought this on himself, though, and Starscream /knows/ it. He decides to play somewhat dumb. "You needed something, my Lord? To take time out of your /busy/ cycle, just to summon me here...what a singular /honor/." His wings betray him, though- slightly rigid and the tips twitch ever so slightly. Megatron gives Starscream a cold smirk as he walks in. He's known Starscream for long enough that he knows very well what that wingtwitch means. "I wouldn't have needed to take that time if not for recent events in the medbay." His optics flare. "And you wouldn't have warranted this... honor... if you hadn't *shot* my chief medical officer." He rises to his feet. "Tell me... precisely *why* did you feel the need to null ray a mech while he was busy *running the medbay*?" Starscream "For several reasons, my /Lord,/", the sarcasm virtually dripping on the floor, "but the main one being that he snubbed me! Relegated me to an inferior technician so that he could tinker with a pile of /junk/! I am Air Commander and my exceptional function outweighs that of a copter who couldn't resist liplocking with a Dinobot!" He stands to his full height, as usual forgetting to be afraid while in the midst of his dramatics. "He insulted /me/. I didn't harm him. Just gave him a short nap." Megatron moves to loom over Starscream, the air around him crackling as he feeds power to his weapons systems. "He snubbed you, you say... by tending to someone other than you? Who had been damaged more extensively?" Starscream exvents several times in rapid succession, /quite/ familiar with those sounds. "I- my Lord, I never looked at Vortex, so I do not know." His optics cycle and he takes an involuntary step back, beginning to worry. "I suppose it's /possible/, but Quickrazor showed blatant disrespect to his superior...ME." His voice rose into that annoying whiny screech at the last word. Megatron frowns, unimpressed. "Rude to you? Perhaps he was." He was there the last time Quickrazor repaired Starscream, after all. "Perhaps you even had reason to take exception to it." He lets that comment hang in the air a moment. Then, without warning, he reaches out to grab one of Starscream's wings. "But tell me how precisely his rudeness warranted stunning him with a null ray *while* he was busy running the medbay after a battle in which several Decepticons were damaged and needed repair." He chuckles as his grip on Starscream's wings tightens. "*Especially* when you yourself claim your problem was that you wanted him to repair you instead of Vortex. How was he supposed to do that if *you* knocked him out?" Starscream 's optics flicker in pain and...other sensations as he feels those hands on his wing. Talking faster now, a bit of static in his vocaliser, he says, "Perhaps I shouldn't have. What's done is...agh...done, though, and you ripping that off me will only necessitate my return to his domain..." Starscream stops. That is likely Megatron's intent. Wonderful. "After I shot him the repair issue was moot. Knifepoint did the job...adequately, I suppose, but my trinemates were in attendance, which likely forestalled...Oh!...forestalled any shenanigans. My Lord, why is it always the wings??" he ends with a slightly desperate tone. "That /hurts/." he whines. "Heh." Megatron is, of course, perfectly fine with doing exactly that -- and there are plenty of spare wings in the medbay supply room. It would be a useful test of Quickrazor's skill to see how quickly and well he fits Starscream with new ones. But he didn't call Starscream in here just to pull his wings off before he admits his wrongdoing. He clenches his fingers hard over Starscream's wings, his frame rumbling with amused satisfaction as he feels the thin plating buckle. "If you so strenuously object..." He pauses for a long moment, fixing an intense stare on Starscream, and then shoves him away by the wings, sending him sprawling. Starscream hisses softly, the pain white and hot, but it's not...enough, somehow. He hits the floor with a clatter, looking up. "Growing soft, glorious Leader? I should think that a few /dents/ would be sufficient punishment." He chuckles lightly, emboldened by his own bravado. "Do you wish to hear me say I will not shoot at, maim, or otherwise harm that overblown afthead again?" Megatron smirks and turns partially away -- not enough to present his back to the treacherous Seeker, of course, but enough to be clearly dismissive. "Going soft? When ignoring you leads to you frantically guessing what you think I might want? I don't think so, Starscream." Starscream snarls. "Don't /ignore/ me, you pile of rusted scrap-!" Starscream is /torqued/, now, wings quivering and he stands back up, hands on his hips. "So what /do/ you want from me, oh Mighty Megatron?" He taps a pede idly. Megatron chuckles. So terribly predictable. He feigns intense interest in the wall for a few moments longer, his frame vibrating with amusement, before finally turning back to the livid Seeker and taking a few steps toward him. "To hear you *say* you won't disrupt my medbay, Starscream?" he asks, his voice deadly quiet. Starscream trembles just slightly, before regaining what little control he had over himself. "I-...my Lord...I will try not to disrupt medbay operations without just cause...and...and I will not consider myself being just cause without physical assault upon me." The qualifiers are pure Starscream- he never followed a direct order without at least a little creative interpretation. And he never could lie convincingly to Megatron in the first place... Megatron snickers. "That is a start," he says, reaching for Starscream's wings again. "But how am I supposed to believe what you say without proof? I *will* have to send you back, you know that." So saying, he grabs Starscream's wings again, in the same unforgiving grip as before. But rather than tearing them off or otherwise damaging them more than his viselike grip already would, he simply presses down, inexorably forcing Starscream to his knees, his optics flaring intense crimson as he pushes the Seeker down. Starscream frowns very briefly, allowing himself to be shoved down to his knees for several reasons, the main one being that he really couldn't /stop/ Megatron from much of anything. "I- my Lord, what-?" His wings, still gripped tightly by strong hands, twitched and he struggles just a bit, settling himself as best as he can, considering that he's not quite certain what's about to happen. Megatron shakes his head, amused, as Starscream's knees hit the floor of the throne room with a clang. He tightens his grip on Starscream's wings until they stop their twitching. "First you complain that I haven't done enough, and then you take issue with me doing more?" Starscream smirks, his expression full of attitude and pure Starscream snark. "When have /I/ ever been predictable, my /Lord/?" His optics cycle widely, and his grin intensifies- this dance is one that he enjoys far too much for his continued safety and personal function, but Starscream doesn't much care at the moment. Baiting Megatron is just too much fun. "If you're going to do it..." He smiles wider. Megatron loosens his grip on Starscream's wings. When have you *not* been predictable? he thinks, sneering slightly. And yes, he certainly *is* goign to do it. But he also knows very well what Starscream expects; after all, the Seeker himself said it. His hand slides from Starscream's wing to his chestplate almost gently, then wraps around the glass there. "Very well," he says, his optics glowing brightly as he pauses for a moment and then closes his hand, the glass cracking and then shattering under the force of his grip. Starscream shivers under the too-gentle touch- he has a just a moment before...*crack*! There it was, the shattering pain. Starscream shrieks as if on fire, shards falling around his knees, and he looks up at his Lord, vents cycling heavily. "Is ..is that all you've got, you-you incompetent /fool/?" Starscream's world was blazing pain but still he insisted upon insulting and baiting the Warlord. One would think him insane. Megatron lifts up his hand and shakes it off, sending glittering glass dust falling to the floor. "Incompetent? Me? When *you* are the one shooting those you want to repair you?" He grins. "Perhaps I should send you to the medbay with explicit instructions that only the drones are permitted to repair you." Starscream glares fiercely, his words falling like chunks of frozen steel. "Maybe you should...but do you /really/ want to risk your best flyer when things are so uncertain? It was /my/ tactics against that giant rusted heap that wanted to flatten /your/ city, after all, my glorious Leader." Golden glass littered the floor around him and /still/ Starscream did not back down. "Maybe I should?" Megatron chuckles. "You're making this entirely too easy, Starscream. "But maybe you're right -- perhaps you really *wouldn't* mind drones fixing your glass." He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as his hand moves back to Starscream's wing. "That's not -- *personal* enough, is it?" He grabs the centers of the wings tightly and pulls down. It's not enough to pull them all the way free of their sockets. That would take a bit more effort, even from him. And that's not what he wants anyway. If Starscream isn't kidding about preferring a drone to the medic who irritated him, ripping off his wings isn't the wisest course of action. While fine calibrations must be done carefully, any repair drone can install a new pair of wings. Repairing torn joints is another matter, at least for someone as perfectionistic and invested in the finer points of flying as Starscream is. Starscream whines loudly, the sound morphing into a grating screech. "M-megatron! I thought-" A popping sound of the joint giving way can be heard, and Starscream loses his balance, then, his knees giving way...so that the only reason his faceplate isn't kissing the floor is Megatron's hand on his now incredibly sore wings. His optics flicker wildly, a maelstrom of emotion behind them, and he pants air through his vents in an attempt to distract himself. Megatron stares down at Starscream, smirking as he listens to the Seeker's panting. "That's better." He traces his fingers over the dents his grip left in the surface of the wings. He doesn't say anything more, not yet. Not while Starscream is dazed from pain and from the feeling of finally having given in. Anything he says now, the Seeker may not even remember. Instead he waits, watching, his optics fixed on Starscream's dark face. Starscream 's optics spiraled out of control. "My lord, I...don't send me to the /drones*!" He twitches at the very thought, feeling equal parts disgusted and somewhat afraid that his Leader will do just that. Those hands had the power to soothe or to rend, to continue or to cease, and that familiar feeling of abject submission overwhelmed him. "M-master. I will...I will follow your will." He hated himself for this, but he had no choice. Megatron's frame rumbles in satisfaction. "Perhaps there is no need to do so." He gives Starscream a stern frown as he pulls his hands away. "But if I *do* allow you to be attended by the medics, I expect you to behave yourself. Even if you see Quickrazor." He smirks. Starscream scowls...but nods his agreement. "You win this time, I suppose..." The words taste like slag. "I suppose I have your leave to get repaired by that sla-...uh, Quickrazor now?" He hadn't caught himself. Too bad. Megatron chuckles. "Very well." He doesn't care whether or not Starscream *likes* Quickrazor, as long as he doesn't *shoot* him, or otherwise disrupt the workings of the medbay. Besides, he'd worry far more if Starscream pretended to like him, as it would be a sure sign he intends further mischief. He moves brusquely away from the Seeker, his hands at his sides -- though someone staring particularly intently at them might notice them just barely closing and reopening, as if still squeezing delicate wings within their grip. "Dismissed." Starscream scoots back on his aft, quickly rising before Megatron changed his mind about letting him off already, and limps out of the throne room, his bent wings a testament to his impertinence. "I /hate/ you." he mumbles on his way out.
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