"I'd just come out of that thing - a space bridge, right? - and he was there." He grits his teeth, curls his claws into fists. "He was there, mocking me, telling me that my brothers-" He cuts himself off. This Starscream doesn't need to know, and Gold Arm doesn't want to tell him.
"He. Grabbed me." The humiliation still stings, the anger still seething under the surface. "Grabbed me, and when I fight back he calls me a fool. I had to have Ratchet hammer the dents out from where he fragging squeezed me half to scrap! And-" He gestures angrily to his shoulder drill. "He threw me to the ground. I'm lucky your mechanic is so damn good at his job."
"If I hit him right though..." A cruel little grin snakes its way across Gold Arm's face. "He should have damage too. I dug my claws into his hand joints, and he might have optic damage. If not, damage somewhere, like a Leaguer-grade baseball hit him at high speeds. Genocide Screw doesn't miss."
"Medics," Starscream corrects mildly when Gold Arm pauses. "Ratchet and the others are medics here, not mechanics. And you wouldn't be the first to retaliate in such a way for being grabbed up without permission like that. I take it you wish to press charges?"
The anger (and any wondering about the difference between medic and mechanic) falters in the face of sudden choice. The look of surprise on the Leaguer's face is almost comical. It's strange; here he was, a free mech, and still getting blindsided by what freedom means.
"Yes?" Starscream answers with just a touch of skepticism. But then he remembered how the Seekers of Acid Storm's universe thought so lowly of themselves because it was all they had known, and wonders if perhaps Gold Arm has come from a similar situation.
"Yes, that is something you can do," he elaborates. "It is a right which everyone aboard the ship have."
He nods when Gold Arm says he wants to press charges. "Very well, I will take care of it."
He shuffles a little there, awkward in the face of how... Easy this felt. Too easy. Back home this would have been a struggle, he feels it in his circuits. But- He trusts Ratchet, and Ratchet trusts this, so Gold Arm thinks maybe he can trust this security mech too.
"If you need anything more from me," because this is what you did, right, "My name is Gold Arm. I'm 'goldprince' on the network."
Another mech might have given him odd look at the thanks, but Starscream was use to fighting for what others took for granted, especially since the New Cybertronian Parliament came into power. So he merely tilts his head in acknowledgment.
"This should be everything, but I'll contact you if something comes up. My name is Starscream, and my network ID is $aircommander."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"He. Grabbed me." The humiliation still stings, the anger still seething under the surface. "Grabbed me, and when I fight back he calls me a fool. I had to have Ratchet hammer the dents out from where he fragging squeezed me half to scrap! And-" He gestures angrily to his shoulder drill. "He threw me to the ground. I'm lucky your mechanic is so damn good at his job."
"If I hit him right though..." A cruel little grin snakes its way across Gold Arm's face. "He should have damage too. I dug my claws into his hand joints, and he might have optic damage. If not, damage somewhere, like a Leaguer-grade baseball hit him at high speeds. Genocide Screw doesn't miss."
no subject
no subject
The anger (and any wondering about the difference between medic and mechanic) falters in the face of sudden choice. The look of surprise on the Leaguer's face is almost comical. It's strange; here he was, a free mech, and still getting blindsided by what freedom means.
To have that kind of right.
"…Yeah. Yeah, I want to press charges."
no subject
"Yes, that is something you can do," he elaborates. "It is a right which everyone aboard the ship have."
He nods when Gold Arm says he wants to press charges. "Very well, I will take care of it."
no subject
He shuffles a little there, awkward in the face of how... Easy this felt. Too easy. Back home this would have been a struggle, he feels it in his circuits. But- He trusts Ratchet, and Ratchet trusts this, so Gold Arm thinks maybe he can trust this security mech too.
"If you need anything more from me," because this is what you did, right, "My name is Gold Arm. I'm 'goldprince' on the network."
no subject
"This should be everything, but I'll contact you if something comes up. My name is Starscream, and my network ID is $aircommander."