With a glance to her hand, which was getting the finishing touches on it, Firestorm would look to Goa and speak up before he left, "You uh.. mind if I join you?" She wasn't very good with social interaction, which was plain as day.
Goa glances at Slipstream storming out, at his somewhat tingly hand, at the inert air commander, and then back at Firestorm's shadowed eyes. "Mind? What if I do?" He leans back self-assuredly, crossing his arms, mouth flat but optics belying an accomplished smile.
Firestorm caught that look in his eyes, getting his jist as she smirked slyly in return, "I'd likely come anyway. I usually do what I want." With hand fully repaired she'd pull it up beneath his chin, the teal colored middle finger doing a small transformation as it extended just a bit into a sharp blade that'd lift his head ever so slightly.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Courage Stat and succeeds by 3! The total roll was 9. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against its Terrify Software and succeeds by 1! The total roll was 31. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against its Presence Stat and succeeds by 6! The total roll was 6.
Goa crosses his eyes toward his chin as he rolls his head back, distrustful of the prodding at his throat. "... No rush." He pauses, perhaps perturbed by how easily he'd been read -- not that it should be a surprise, but still -- then sidles out, step resembling a formal march.
Firestorm stood from the seat once Goa made his way from the room, smirking triumphantly as blade finger turned back to normal and she followed upon his heels.
-- cut to drill hall --
Goa awkwardly skids into the drill hall, spinning about to check his back. He'd already tried to lose the seeker a few times in the nighttime crowd with little success, despite his ability to get lost underfoot. No one that eager to /accompany/ him could be in their right mind, or have his best interests at spark.
"Tsh, you're acting so jittery. Am I really as scary as they say? Wasn't like I was gonna really cut you or anything." Firestorm rolled her optics as she strode in behind Goa as if her action wasn't any big deal. She wasn't too sure if she'd train with him, wanting to possibly study his moves like she did with others.
Goa stands up, rolling his shell over his back, and looking decidedly sheepish. "Not scary, I just know how this works," he says, slipping into one of the firing alcoves. "You're going to come in here, play nice for a few minutes, then break my other leg." He turns away and starts to pull out his grenade launcher for the intended target practice, but takes a moment, propping it up against the far wall. "I guess it wouldn't be a bad way to sit out the rest of the week."
Firestorm raised a brow at his accusation, taking a seat on the far wall to watch as one leg over the other with arms crossed, "Break your other leg? Please, I just met you. If I were to hurt you or anything it'd be much worse than a broken leg, trust me." Gaze switched to her hand, watching digits move separately momentarily as she continued, "By the way... That spark burn I got.. Just wondering if you've ever gotten anything like that?" Firestorm tried to ask as casually as possible as she treaded lightly upon her own touchy subject.
Goa decides to punctuate her question with a grenade cast into the range, deigning to strike the crouching hologram of an empty mech chest-high.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Dexterity Stat and succeeds by 4! The total roll was 8.
... and it flickers out of existence in a cloud of debris. As the backwash puffed out of his alcove, he questions for a moment if the place had been erected with ballistic weapons tests in mind, but it seems to be holding up anyway. Goa clears his smoke-assaulted vocals with a backfiring cough that ricochets. "Not... before. You an energon fiend like the other femmes?" He leans against the wall of his post, visibly more interested in the seeker's question than another easy shot.
"Psh, no. But I hardly know what the other femmes are even like. Barely hang around anyone. I mean, slag it, I barely even look like a femme myself." The audible whirr of a sigh escaped her as she glanced down to her armored form, which was bulkier than a typical female model. "Only happened once before, back when I was a protoform. At least that's what my databank tells me.."
Goa scoffs. "You remember more than I do then. Memory's always been a bit choppy." Tapping the butt of the launcher to his head, then folding it back away, he says, "Femmes act like they get a hard time around here, anyway." He rolls his eyes. "How good're you with those fists?"
Firestorm glanced down at her own hands, clenching them into fists before looking back to him, "Pretty good, I suppose, since they're my main weapons. Why? You wanna spar?" A small grin began to creep upon her dark grey face, hand blades growing with it.
Goa slips a nanoclick's chirp of surprise at the seeker's specialty, then rubs his hands together, looking left and right. Once he's satisfied with the lack of crowd, he gleams up, content with his plucking of Firestorm's thoughts -- in this instance, at least. "If it counts to you as training. I've apparently got a quota to fill." He watches the minute twitches of the jet, and keeps a safe distance. /The bigger they are, the slower they move.../
Grin curled even more as glowing eyes flashed, the femme standing with now surprisingly long bladed spears extending from her hands. "Training, eh? I'll make sure to say that if anyone asks." With a swift move Firestorm would suddenly leap forward, exhaust heels burning the air itself as they flared to life, sending her hurtling towards him with surprising speed. Helmet plates on the sides of her face moved forward to add more protection as she jetted towards him with weapons ready to slash once he was reached.
+Roll: Firestorm rolls against its Agility Stat and fails by 1! The total roll was 14. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and fails by 3! The total roll was 17. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against its Agility Stat and SUCCEEDS PERFECTLY! +Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and succeeds by 12! The total roll was 2. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against its Melee Software and succeeds by 35! The total roll was 10. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Armor-use Software and succeeds by 29! The total roll was 10.
Firestorm was like a blur as she reached him in record time, blasting past him to the opposite wall with weapons slashing. The sound of metal on metal resounded through the air as the tip of her blade carved a nasty groove across half of his chest plate and over his shoulder tires.
Combat: Firestorm attacks Goa with Drive by slashing - (Melee) Level: 1 and HITS! Combat: Goa's Armor buckles but remains functional.
SCRAPE-- /or I could be totally wrong!/ The mech staggered backward, blinking and drunkenly grabbing at his back for a weapon. As he regains his wits and snaps a scythe away from his shoulder with his click, he spies rivulets of energon slipping from his chest to the floor. He shakes a long-buried image away from his head and - snarling! - leaps at Firestorm's shoulders, aiming to hook the blade around her wing.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and fails by 5! The total roll was 19. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Agility Stat and fails by 6! The total roll was 19. +Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Agility Stat and fails by 5! The total roll was 18. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and succeeds by 4! The total roll was 10.
Firestorm jet skated in a circle to slow her speed as she stopped, rocket heels shutting down and letting her ease to the floor. She'd grin at the thin sliver of energon dripping from her blade, cackling ever so softly, "Heheh, didn't expect tha-Ack!" Her words were cut short as the male 'con charged her, managing to maneuver his scythes into the notches of her large wings. "Arrgh! Get offa' there!" Vocal processor hissed a warning as she began to swing this way and that to try and get him off.
Goa shrieks. "Why does everyone try to kill me when I spar?!"
+Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Strength Stat and succeeds by 12! The total roll was 3. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Strength Stat and fails by 0! The total roll was 15.
Goa tries to dig in, but only manages to get one scythe hooked under a plate before being thrown away, the other in hand. Thunk! Hello, wall. He slumps to the floor, clambering to his feet while blindly hoping the stab of the hook will distract Firestorm -- long enough for him to actually prepare for the next shot.
"Rgh! Slag it!" The femme snarled as a hand was reached back to try and wiggle the scythe free.
Goa holds his free scythe out in front of him, trying to get behind Firestorm for another hit. "I feel more training-ing already!" he scoffs.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and succeeds by 1! The total roll was 13.
Combat: Goa attacks Firestorm with Straight-up backstab - (melee) Level: 1 and MISSES!
With the annoyance of Goa's scythe lodged around her wing Firestorm never noticed as the 'con snuck up behind her, at least until he gave away his position by talking. With a quick turn she'd knock his stabbing attack aside with a large wing while finally managing to dislodge the other scythe and toss it aside. "Playing dirty, huh? I'll play along, little man." Eyes were as bright as ever as she filled with the thrill of battle, her mind completely blocking out the fact that this was a sparring match. With eyes filling the same color as her electric blue wings Firestorm would cackle softly with a manic grin, a similar color pulsing brighter in her chest while lengthy blades began to crack and spark with energy. Not good.
+Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Terrify Software and succeeds by 25! The total roll was 7. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Courage Stat and fails by 1! The total roll was 13.
Goa falls on his aft, folding practically in half and skidding over the floor. He sits up, dazed, and witness to a remarkably -- uncharacteristically, even -- display of terror. Muttering something about "enough this week", his wheels squeak with variable friction as he scurries backwards. "Dirty?! You slashed me first!" He turns aside, examining his exit options...
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Awareness Stat and succeeds by 1! The total roll was 9.
On the tips of his feet, he sees a straight shot to the wind shaft and crouches to bolt for it.
With a battle cry able to send anyone fleeing, the femme would fire up her jets once more, which were an intense white and light blue, and was sent rocketing at him like lightning. If she were to reach him in time then a crackling blade would be lifted, coming down to strike a heavy blow upon the 'con.
+Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Agility Stat and fails by 2! The total roll was 15. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and succeeds by 5! The total roll was 9.
Combat: Firestorm attacks Goa with Electric energon strike - (melee) Level: 3 and MISSES!
Goa accelerates hand over foot, transforming for a last, desperate burst of speed. An explosion of fire and smoke spews forth behind him -- and he grimaces inwardly as a blade slices clean through the very tail of his armor, the plate sparking a moment or two before its redundant wiring becomes inactive. "Just as sane as you look, slagger!--" As the car falls into the open shaft, he debates his exit plan's wisdom for a moment...
Goa's scythes roll over to his chest as he folds into his vehicle mode. Goa transforms from robot to armored car Mode.
-- cut to Hangar Bay --
Goa unfurls from his vehicle mode and stands up. Goa transforms from armored car to robot Mode.
... a moment's thought, as he transforms mid-freefall and bolts out into more open space, straight through traffic. Muttering oaths and hopes that he hasn't been followed.
But of course he was, Firestorm giving chase with her jets and nearly on him as they weaved this way and that through the complex until they'd finally reached the hangar bay, where the femme pretty much knocked through anyone in her way. "Running from a fight?! Face me like a Decepticon!" The wild hiss in her vocals was clear as she zeroed in on him, clearly blind to reason as she tried to slash him once more with energized blades.
Combat: Firestorm attacks Goa with Tarydium terror - (Melee) Level: 3 and HITS! Combat: Goa's Armor buckles but remains functional. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Endurance Stat and succeeds by 1! The total roll was 11.
A blade hooks between the mech's neck and shoulder and slices through, hissing as it inundates it with ... electricity? He screams and claws at the gash, whirling about, blade singing through the air to parry the next blow. "To the Pit with this!"
Firestorm eyed the 'con as he swung about in a fit, femme still in battle stance though she made no movement to get closer. However, on close examination one would notice her body begin to shudder as jets gave a few sputters before finally dying and grounding her with a thud. Frag, her energy boost was giving out. Probably from chasing her opponent all over the complex. With audible whirrs of exhaustion, Firestorm tried to keep herself up as she tried for another attack, though significantly weaker now.
+Roll: Firestorm rolls against her Endurance Stat and succeeds by 5! The total roll was 7.
Combat: Firestorm attacks Goa with Last chance - (Melee) Level: 2 and HITS! Combat: Goa's Armor buckles but remains functional.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Awareness Stat and fails by 0! The total roll was 10. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Armor-use Software and fails by 2! The total roll was 41.
Goa's arm is simply slapped away by the unexpected strength of the seeker, and he can only watch as she 'kabobs over his shoulder and through his hunched-over back plate. He flails off-balance, punching at the exposed glass of her cockpit.
Combat: Goa attacks Firestorm with Solar plexus punch - (unarmed) Level: 2 and MISSES!
Firestorm's cockpit was tough enough to where his punch simply glanced off to the side, though she hardly noticed at this point. With blade stuck straight through him she'd just loom there before him like a shaking tower, the familiar 'bwoo' of powering down heard as every glowing part of her completely faded to dark and left her eyes a mere flicker of ruby. Despite having no damage Firestorm collapsed onto her knees, blade withdrawing from him while she slumped forward with shallow breaths from the lack of energon in her system.
Goa jumps away as soon as he's released, pulling a page from Slipstream's book -- he swings onto her back, pushing her to the ground with a twiggish knee and pressing his blade at the back of her neck with both hands. Even still, the blade rattles against Firestorm's armor as Goa's entire body shakes, chest heaving, still streaming violet fluid toward the ground. His wide, fiery eyes are almost spasmodical in their scan for any twitch, any activity that could hail another strike. He pins her left arm under his foot as a paranoid aside. Goa's jaw hangs slack, more expressionless even than before, a moment before he speaks. "You give?"
Firestorm seemed to be fighting slipping into stasis as her dim eyes flickered occasionally. But she was aware enough to still hear him, her lips twitching a little in a half smile while saying through terribly fatigued speech. "Heh... L..Like I.. have a choice... You're good.. strong willed. Just... so sorry to.. have gotten so out of hand..." With that said she'd tiredly sigh, finally letting stasis take over as redness dimmed full and optics shut.
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Intelligence Stat and fails by 7! The total roll was 18. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Courage Stat and fails by 3! The total roll was 15.
Goa is still winded, but not so much that a loud 'hmph' couldn't make its way out of his vocals. He sits down on the broad back below him, blade still warily aimed. Less warily, he lets his eyes lapse in vigilance to roll them. "Oh, what does the craziest seeker want, a free ride to the repair bay?" Tap, tap. The blade was flipped over, and he was rapping on the side of her helmet with the dull side. Egged on by the lack of response, he stands, digging the rest of his weight in on one tire. "Sure, sure. Lay there and rust. See if I fall for it." Wrenching a wing up, he tilts her off to one side and waits a tick for the loud complaints. Goa's grin diminishes to a confused half-smirk as he motions for his comm unit. -- cut to repair bay --
Goa half-hefts, half-drags an inanimate Firestorm through the mouth of the bay, clearly struggling to move her across the floor. How he managed to traverse the wind shaft is a mystery to itself. He lifts the femme onto an open repair bench, with much more coordination once he's able to push from below. Offering the general occupancy of the bay his most benign shrug, he slips away to flag a technician to the table. "Where in the pit did you find her? She's running on fumes!" The medic, visibly incensed (quite possibly by Goa's recurrence over the past few days), starts running fuel lines to the femme.
Firestorm was pretty much like a metallic ragdoll as Goa ungracefully brought her into the repair bay. After several minutes of energon pouring into her system both eyes finally opened, the glow within still dim, but much brighter than before. "Mmnmm... Where am I..?" Gaze shifted around the room in dazed confusion.
Starscream is passed out cold on the repair table. He is unaware of what is going on.
Goa says, "Guess." He holds his hands away, open- "You still allergic to me?"
Firestorm blinked with a blank expression, having to take a moment to absorb his words since her processor was a tad out of sorts. She finally got it and smirked lightly, "Heh, allergic? Doubt it. But..." She'd stare off for a moment or two before looking back, "Sorry doesn't seem enough for the way I acted.. It was supposed to just be sparring, but of course I have to blow it a hundred times out of proportion..." Her expression visibly showed the hurt and frustration against herself as fists clenched.
Goa reaches out and traces a finger along one of the glowing lines on Firestorm's chest, suffering an odd sense of déjà vu. "Is that habit how you got these?" He pulls up the medic's seat -- abandoned a few minutes ago among many received glares and angry mutters -- and perches, legs braked against the side. "I've got a lot of questions," he says, pulling his implacable smirk further upward with a finger. "But you gave me a good fight, so I'll give you a breather." He leans back, sneering, arms crossed over his chest. There was still a gash in it, splitting his Decepticon brand nearly in half, but he must've wiped away the energon flow at some point while Firestorm was out. "Breather's over. Who are you, how'd you get here, why'd you get here -- and what the slag was that all about?"
Firestorm sighed heavily, knowing he'd want answers. Lacing fingers together over her midsection she'd stare up at the dim ceiling, partially going back into her memory banks. "Well.. Suppose you deserve to know. Not many encounter that side of me and live to tell.. Almost no one knows my story except the higher ups, but I'll tell you." Eyes flickered momentarily as she went through her memory, continuing with her story, "Name's Firestorm, though you already know that. Got here like everyone else, which was joining on my own free will. Well... sort of. Got kidnapped at a young age, 'bout after I graduated academy. Some weird lab full of others my age... Not a pretty sight."
Goa laughs nasally and incredulously, his wheels slipping from their post to scuff against the ground. "You, kidnapped? You trying to pull a fast one on me, seeker?"
Firestorm's expression stayed stone solid, not finding any humor in his words. "If only I was, grounder... Was different back then. Nice kid, shy, polite, good grades, the works. My colors were even different and I didn't have these marks... But what they did to me.. Testing us with these strange blue crystals full of enormous powers. Maybe it was a new energon, but I had no idea. They... they ruined my insides with it, made it part of me, drove me insane... Which is why I went crazy when fighting you." Lips tightened at the memory as her fingers tightened around each other. "Only a few survived the torture, including me. But they were all too weak and crippled, so they just ended them there. Then... Megatron came.. saying it was an Autobot lab." Her voice almost hissed at the word. "And if I joined him that I could get my revenge for what they'd done... And that's pretty much why I'm here." Optics blinked a few times to bring herself back before her gaze shifted back to Goa to see any reaction.
Goa looks at his hands, his feet, around the bay, and at the various drones, clearly unsure what to do about a Decepticon actually /talking/ to him, capable of distracting his attention long enough to off-guard him. So fascinated with the environment, he barely realizes when Firestorm's stopped, optics still glazed over. "That's funny..." he says, moments before snapping out of it. His voice creaked slightly; "I, ah- I mean peculiar. I didn't realize that Autobots did that sort of... /thing/ ..." He grimaces, pondering the gladiator he met in the repair bay a few days ago, "but I can't say it surprises me." A grimace is as far as his politeness extends -- he's still curiously examining the shatter lines for any sort of reaction, indignant or otherwise.
"Mnm... I've looked through every computer, every file, every memory, even rough up a lot of people to talk. But I never got any answers of info on what happened. No one's even heard of the crystal they fused with me.." Firestorm seemed more aware now as more energon was pumped in her system, giving her the strength to sit up, though slowly and with plenty of effort. "Mmff..I guess you've never heard of it either?" The femme looked at Goa squarely now as legs were swung over the side to get more comfortable.
A delicate frown of disappointment forms on Goa's face as he clasps his hands in his lap. His voice withers to a whisper. "Crystalline energon, you said?" he says, returning her gaze. "You've already done the requisite roughing-up," He glances around, still quiet, "So I may as well mention where I'm from." His fingers tap against each other rhythmically. "I was an energon trader once." He pauses to mumble, "not a slagging mine-pick Autobot," then quickly moves along. "Do you have any sample of the crystal?"
Firestorm nodded a little, though her face looked unsure. "Yeah, I do. But... I can't give you a piece since it's part of me now." A few short clicks sounded, followed by a release of pressure, before both cockpit and chest cavity separated, opening up to show her spark chamber. What was inside was both interesting and horrifying. Overall it was a normal chamber, however clear blue crystals clustered everywhere like an infestation from the various cracks along the cavity walls where it branched off into her body. What was worse was that some of the crystals even spiked into her very spark.
Goa raises his eyebrows, then looks away, inquiringly, at Firestorm's face. "You sure you want to show me that?" he says, dental plates glinting electric blue in the glow. More soberly, he glances around before examining the chamber with his eyes. Was that a retch? "Takes a mean son of an empty to survive that..." he says to himself, prodding -- as far from the spark itself as possible -- to get a better look at the cracking. He steps back, brushing at his own chest nervously, letting his fingers trace the gash as they encounter it. A long, nostalgic sigh... "Hope you like answering questions." His voice diminishes again, "But not here." "How do you handle that sort of energon drain on the field? You've been through the academy, haven't you?" he sputters, eagerly changing the subject, while his eyes wander around the room again.
Firestorm luckily didn't feel any of his curious poking, instead letting him do his thing. A Decepticon showing their spark to another? Dangerous. But she was desperate for answers. When Goa had finished his examination she'd close up her chest, letting everything click back into place before she spoke. Rubbing the back of her head she'd look a little embarrassed, "I've been through the academy, yeah. But not after I was taken. Had to learn using these powers myself. But yeah... On the field I have a little more control over switching when my energon runs low. Though sometimes that control kinda slips away, like you saw firsthand."
"Yeah. Firsthand." Goa's eyelids droop with a mocking ha-ha, which exacerbates into genuine laughter. "Still a 'training accident', right?"
A brow was raised at his ability to shake the incident off so easily. But she managed a light smile, "I guess. But what'd you mean by answering questions?" Firestorm asked absentmindedly as she watched a medical bot begin to remove the tubes connected to her, able to let her go now since she was stable and back to normal.
"I mean that if I'm not on duty, I'm supposed to be training or sleeping," he says, willing his eyes to still, "And this isn't duty." Goa takes a further step back, offering Firestorm over sufficient room to stand. "Would you like to continue ... training? In the flats outside, maybe?"
Starscream is still snoozing...though he seems to be restless now. He could awaken at any moment...
Firestorm waved her hand in a declining manner to Goa as she stood up stiffly, grunting softly while stretching her limbs. "Much as I'd like to, I'd rather not. One, I don't need to go berserk again and hurt you more. Two, getting energon fill ups twice in one day might get the higher ups miffed. And three, I'm sure one or more 'cons have complained about our scuffle in the hangar, so I wanna lay low for a bit and not move around the base as much."
+Roll: Goa rolls against his Awareness Stat and succeeds by 1! The total roll was 9.
Goa palms at his face, looking away with moderate embarrassment -- wary eye locking on Starscream's tossing. In a whisper, "Not necessarily weapons training. Current events training." He turns back to Firestorm and brightens up. "Buuut your reasoning is quite valid. I trust you'll find me around anyway - Not like I'm going anywhere," he says, punctuation a nervous chuckle. "You heading for another nap, or do you have more to ask of a poor grounder?"
Firestorm finally stood, brushing off any debris picked up from when she was dragged halfway across the base. Following his eyes she'd note Starscream across the room, which of course made her grimace. Ugh, him. How she got stuck serving under Starscream was beyond her. "Poor grounder? You say that as if you're lower than me. But no, I'm wide awake now. Dunno what I'm gonna do though."
Goa looks down, reminding himself that this one hadn't fraternized with the other seekers. No fun. No fun at all. "Well, while you decide, I'm gonna get this mess fixed up," he says, motioning generally at his upper body, and replacing Firestorm on the bench. He gives her a cool, analyzing stare, then swings his legs up to lay down. Seeming to gulp down a lump in his vocalizer, he asks, "Anything on your mind?"
Firestorm shrugged a bit at his question, moving to stand beside Starscream as he slept, looming over him. "Not really. Though I do wonder why he's always in here. Sleeping. You think he's skipping his duties?" Snide smirk spread across her face as she poked the sleeping 'con a little.
Goa clicks his optics off and smiles at Firestorm's audacity, even while the drone disconnects the sensors and starts melting the connection points for his chest over plate with a hiss. "I can think of worse places to lounge about."
Starscream finally rouses. He hears voices and they don't quite make sense yet. He looks around and then his optics fix on Goa. "Did you say something, soldier?" he says, narrowing his optics suspiciously.
Goa snaps his eyes open. "Just complimenting your... interior design sense, sir." The drone makes off with the sliced chest plate and returns with a new, blank one.
+Repair: Decepticon Medical Drone repairs Goa. +Repair: Decepticon Medical Drone repairs the Hull Plating on Goa. +Repair: Decepticon Medical Drone repairs the Armor Plating on Goa.
Firestorm stiffened up a bit as Starscream finally woke up. While she was poking him, no less! Hoping he didn't spot her yet, since somehow he saw Goa first, the fembot scooted a bit out of his range before saluting, much to her displeasure, "Commander, good to see you awake, sir."
At least Starscream doesn't have a hangover right now, though he does have a robo-migraine. This tends to happen when mechs try to squish your head off. "Thanks," he murmurs as he tries to sit up more.
"Sir, sir, please lie down!" a medical droid says hurriedly, "We haven't finished-"
Starscream suddenly faints.
Goa cranes his neck around. "What's going on over there?" The repair bot flaps about angrily, trying to pin the mech down and finish engraving the Decepticon sigil on his new chest plate.
Firestorm had to use all her willpower to keep from laughing when Starscream fainted right then and there, the poor girl having to bite her lips shut while snickering heavily. But she couldn't hold back long, soon bursting into laughter. "Haha! Oh man! That memory file is definitely getting saved!"
The medic droid shakes its head and tuts. "His cranial fuel line got pinched," it says, "When he tried to sit up too suddenly. I'll have to fix it."
Goa has a sense he's missed a beautiful thing as he stills to let the medic finish its job, now coloring the symbol in and preparing to patch over the gash in his shoulder.