They both play their cards close to the chest, he’s noticed. That’s fine by him. It’s not worth it if they aren’t playing the same game, and it’s clear enough to him that they are.
It’s called ‘Secrets’. And it’s Barricade’s favorite.
They figure out little things, every once in a while. From pushing each other just a little too far; he’d found something dirty in Convoy’s past, and Convoy found the side of Barricade that was reserved for those on his table for his little ‘sessions’. From the one wandering into a warehouse and catching the other dancing – better than a warrior maybe ought to.
From the fact that he could tell Convoy had been hollowed out and dumped here like him. Abandoned by the ones that did that to him. No one really familiar around. Certainly no one that could understand what he was and what he’d gone through. But sometimes he caught sight of a fire buried in there and was pleased to see it.
His arms and chassis are splattered with Energon, most of it not his own. When it came down to brass tacks, he only ever gave a little. Convoy isn’t the mech he’d lost that he’d willingly submit to, after all. Even all his power wouldn’t get that from Barricade. The Decepticon’s posture is relaxed, gazed fixed out the window. Couple people, far away. They wouldn’t notice either of them, likely. Human eyesight isn’t the best at dusk, after all.
He feels a hand slide along one of his pauldrons, gripping the tire and tugging, and he exvents slowly. “You’re paranoid,” a voice, rough but still familiar – the voice of somebody he respected and wanted to see dead – rumbles out, tugging him again.
He allows it, shifting on his feet to turn. “And you,” he starts, running a claw unkindly across a section of plating he’d diligently pried at for an hour, “worry too fraggin’ much.”
From anyone else, he’d expect at least a hiss. But the slight widening of a pair of red optics – how strange still, for an Autobot to have red optics – was reward enough for him. “Says who?” Defiance.
Nemvoy and Barricade, 34. I feel like I should apologize about the song since not everyone likes...
They both play their cards close to the chest, he’s noticed. That’s fine by him. It’s not worth it if they aren’t playing the same game, and it’s clear enough to him that they are.
It’s called ‘Secrets’. And it’s Barricade’s favorite.
They figure out little things, every once in a while. From pushing each other just a little too far; he’d found something dirty in Convoy’s past, and Convoy found the side of Barricade that was reserved for those on his table for his little ‘sessions’. From the one wandering into a warehouse and catching the other dancing – better than a warrior maybe ought to.
From the fact that he could tell Convoy had been hollowed out and dumped here like him. Abandoned by the ones that did that to him. No one really familiar around. Certainly no one that could understand what he was and what he’d gone through. But sometimes he caught sight of a fire buried in there and was pleased to see it.
His arms and chassis are splattered with Energon, most of it not his own. When it came down to brass tacks, he only ever gave a little. Convoy isn’t the mech he’d lost that he’d willingly submit to, after all. Even all his power wouldn’t get that from Barricade. The Decepticon’s posture is relaxed, gazed fixed out the window. Couple people, far away. They wouldn’t notice either of them, likely. Human eyesight isn’t the best at dusk, after all.
He feels a hand slide along one of his pauldrons, gripping the tire and tugging, and he exvents slowly. “You’re paranoid,” a voice, rough but still familiar – the voice of somebody he respected and wanted to see dead – rumbles out, tugging him again.
He allows it, shifting on his feet to turn. “And you,” he starts, running a claw unkindly across a section of plating he’d diligently pried at for an hour, “worry too fraggin’ much.”
From anyone else, he’d expect at least a hiss. But the slight widening of a pair of red optics – how strange still, for an Autobot to have red optics – was reward enough for him. “Says who?” Defiance.
Well. He can play that game too. “Say I.”