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Although she didn't care for selling scrap, she hadn't really been given much of a choice. Her father's connections made it easier for her to pawn it off, even if it was stolen-- especially if it was stolen. The better the metal, the better the price, and sometimes the only time she could get her hands on anything worth stealing was to snatch it right out of someone's car, truck, or motorcycle.
That wasn't the case today, though. After a few reported "UFO sightings," a fun little term to describe military testing, Leah had packed up her Jeep. She took off from good, old Pahrump, Nevada, and made her way into the desert. If her sources were correct-- and they had been!-- there would be plent of scrap metal for her to choose from.
Once her Jeep was loaded down, Leah took a small break to wash off her hands. Selling scrap made a decent amount of cash, especially when one combined it with her ❝other occupation,❞ but it sliced her palms to hell and back. The absolute LAST THING she needed was to get some sort of infection from radioactive whatchamahoozits she was collecting.
With that done, she clambered into her Jeep, pleasantly surprised to see she had managed to spend the entire day out in the desert. Not only would she be making some money, but it also appeared as though she had gone a full twelve hours from hearing from her mother. That was probably the best news she had discovered all day. Now to get these damned scraps home.
Taking one last loop around a plateau, Leah was about to pack it in and head back home, when the glint of something against the sunset caught the corner of her eye. It was hidden, tucked away in a cave, but it seemed to be metallic. She weighed her options quickly, then decided to just say Fuck It and drive inside. It wouldn’t take more than half an hour to explore and determine if there was anything worth salvaging. And even if she only found another few pounds worth of junk, that was still a few extra dollars she could use for the next week.
The wind whistled through the cave, and once again Leah was glad she kept her hair short. But even though the wind was reaching her, it seemed that the light wasn't able to, and the young woman removed a flashlight from her bag. The light scanned across the cave-- first here, then there-- until it came across what she was looking for.
And, in the moment, Leah could only whisper, "Score."
On Starscream's top five worst days, this day, so far, didn't even come close to ranking. But if he had to put it somewhere? He'd probably put it in the top one hundred.
The Air Commander felt like heap of scrap parts. In the midst of the search for these accursed artifacts, he'd gotten caught in a skirmish with a group of Autobots. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue, but they'd been feistier than usual, this time, and they'd dented his wings and plating something awful. He'd flown what distance he could so that they wouldn't give chase – none of the infernal things were flyers, so they hadn't had much hope of keeping up – before crashing outside of a cave in the desert. He'd dragged himself inside it with difficulty, slumped down into recharge, and resolved to call for a groundbridge and medical attention when he woke. Nothing vital was busted. He could afford to rest.
A few hours into his slumber, he was interrupted. Of course he was. Why should he have expected any different?
The sudden new source of light, the sound of footsteps, and the soft whisper of an unfamiliar voice where what had him jolting awake. Starscream flared his wings in threat – wincing as he did. It seemed one of them was no longer hanging correctly on its hinge. He raised both arms, pointing his missiles towards the source of the noise.
A human. That was what the Air Commander's crimson optics rested on. A lowly, primitive organic native to this backwater planet, gawking up at him like he was some sort of prize or treasure for her to collect and make off with. Ignoring the pain in his joints and the creaking of his plating, Starscream leaned forwards, sneering down at her and keeping his weapons trained all the while.
Some part of him realized he should just kill her now. They were supposed to be keeping themselves nominally a secret to the general populace of this pit-forsaken world; the sort of war they fought was so much easier without the entirety of the world's military, primitive as it was, breathing down their neckcables. But another part of his processor, the part in charge of scheming, stayed his hand. Perhaps he could use her for something, threaten her into not speaking. She could be an ally of sorts. If he played things right, perhaps she'd even grow attached to him. The Autobots kept human pets all the time. He didn't see why he shouldn't, too. Clearly something was working out for them.
“And just what do you think you're doing?” Starscream hissed, talons flexing. “Give me one reason not to blow you to pieces right now, organic.”
When the robot’s optics powered on—a bright red color that seemed almost a little too cliché—Leah immediately went for her bag. She wasn’t entirely sure what her weapons could do to it, if they could even do anything at all. For all she knew, this was some kind of military weapon that could withstand bullets. Hell, knowing the American (Russian? Who knew?) Government, it could have even been impervious to laser.
“And just what do you think you're doing?”
Oh, good, and it was SENTIENT, too. That was so much better.
It seemed as though she wasn’t going to get any money out of this one. With a huff, Leah shifted her hand, to allow it to move from her back to her hip. She popped the joint to the side, raised a single eyebrow. If this little dude thought she was going to be intimidated by his words, then he had another thing coming. The woman gave a huff, rolled her eyes.
“Dude, you need to chill your fuckin’ grill, okay? Or, uh, whatever equivalent you got there.” Reaching up, she pushed a strand of her bangs out of her eyes. Goddamn, she really needed to get that cut off. “Look, dude, I hate to say it, but if you’re tryin’ be threatenin’, I’ll give you brownie points. A for effort. Whatever gets through to you. But…”
Moving closer to him, dark eyes traced his silver form. There were dents there, a few cuts. Cuts that, upon closer inspection, revealed a sticky substance. Blood? Well, no, probably not, but, maybe something similar.
What the fuck?
“You, uh, you okay there, dude? You got some…” Casually, the human reached up and touched her cheek, brushing it as though she was trying to brush the goo off for him. “You’re HURT. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
MOOD [ his mood is butts. his personality is also butts. ]
MUSIC [ battle against a true hero - undertale soundtrack ]
TAG [ @leah ]
NOTES [ it's so weird writing him like this after their development on tumblr oh my god ]
Oh, wonderful. Marvelous. Not only was he being accosted by one of the fleshies -- it was also insolent. The thing rolled its little optics and tossed its hair and glared at him as if they stood on equal footing. As if one flick of his finger or blast of his weapons or a kick of his heeled pede wouldn’t send it careening out of the cave in fluid-y, disgusting little pieces.
Starscream sneered, holding his helm up as if he ruled every inch of the ground this creature walked on. And why shouldn’t he, as superior as he and his were? With an attitude like that, it probably wouldn’t be of use to him. He needed a human more pliant, agreeable. He couldn’t waste his time on a long term project as worthless as one of these pathetic things.
But then, had he really given it a chance to show its colors? Yes, it was an annoying creature, there was no denying that even this early on -- but perhaps this one, after sufficient first-time annoyingness, would become something somewhat softer in tone and attitude. After all, it seemed to be showing some sort of concern for his well being, pointing out the leaking cut on his fascia. With an optic roll and an ex-vent of his own, Starscream sat back, being careful of his damaged wings.
“I was attacked by those barbaric Autobots, but I’ll live,” he grumbled, reaching up to wipe the energon from his cheek, lest it be sucked unpleasantly into his facial vents. The Seeker kept careful watch on the human beneath him. “It’s nothing my medic won’t be able to handle, I assure you. I… apologize,” it annoyed him to say it, but it didn’t need to know that, “if I come off rude. Being assaulted doesn’t do wonders for one’s mood.”
[ she's still worried, even if he's a little shit ]
« ☢ »
If Starscream thought he had seen anything, then he was certainly in for a rude awakening. Leah was currently having a half-decent day, which meant that she was in a relatively good mood. Sure, she didn’t enjoy being THREATENED, but she could get past that. Hell, if she had woken up from a nap after being beaten around, and then been accosted by the locals, she might also be a little pissy. So, yeah, she could excuse his behavior— this time.
“Hey, man, nah. You look like you’ve had a GODDAMNED hard day.” Moving closer towards the giant robot, Leah removed her bag from across her chest and began to shuffle through it. “You need that sealed? I mean, I don’t have any replacement for your kinda metal, but I got some sheets. At least, I don't think so. But I got some, uh—”
Her brain stopped right there, no longer able to spit out the sentence she wanted. The human stared for a moment, silent, before she finally managed to shut her mouth. What had she been trying to say? She knew what she WANTED to say, but what was she trying to say? Goddammit, why did her brain have to stall now?
The human cursed, snapping her fingers together as her mind desperately tried to summon up the word from the tip of her tongue. “Shit. Shit, fuck. That thing that, uh—welder! Yeah, I got one of those in my car. I can take care of that. Get it sealed up for ya. I mean, I ain’t exactly NASA, but I know a thing or two about fixin’ up machines. Giant robots shouldn’t be too hard, my man, if you let me know what’s wrong.”
post template by Tony
Shoutbox
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