I don't need nobody flyin' in my jet stream

[loltraitorlol.livejournal.com]

WHO: Starscream loltraitorlol and newly BM style Wazzzzpinator chewtoyoffate
WHERE: That abandoned warehouse where Starscream and Metabee fought.
WHEN: After Wasp and Screamer talk.
SUMMARY: Starscream figures he needs to negotiate with this new Waspinator and get the Vehicon under control. Negotiation is probably going to involve guns. Lots of guns.
FORMAT: uh stuff.

This porter malfunction was madness.
Starscream was certian that's what it was - which boded ill for everyone. It meant, in all likelihood, that the porter was still connected to them in some way. Which meant in turn that at any time, he could be the next victim. He could be switched with his much less canny self from four million years ago, and probably ruin all his hard work; or from even before that, with the young and even slightly optimistic scientist he'd been, or with the version of him from Optimus and Blackarachnia's universe.

Or something else still.

He wondered if that was what had really happened to Megatron; if the poter could do this, then mightn't it spontaneously send people home? But, slag it, if that was the case why didn't this version of Waspinator remember anything?

It was madness.

The fact remained that Waspinator was making a mess of everything. He'd pretty much blown his own cover to Optimus - if this ever got fixed he'd have to lie through his afterburners about Wasp being a Maximal to get Optimus to trust the wayward Predacon again. And then of course he'd lost his temper at Waspinator. Again.

Well.

Part of this was damage control and negotiation. He'd negotiate and hopefully Wasp would calm down and declare alligence and it'd all be fine.

"Who the slag am I kidding?" he wondered aloud. "He's going to try to scrap me as soon as we meet."

Well, in that case, he was well prepared. He'd already been getting more gear for his nightly flights - a thick jacket and pants reinforced with kevlar, a helmet and goggles to protect his face when flying. All, unfortunately, in black. He wanted so badly to fly his proper colors, but he also could only fly at night as he didn't want anyone becoming suspicious, particularly since he was working with the anti-mutant groups.

He waited for Waspinator to arrive, perched up in the rafters on a rusted crossbeam, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

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[chewtoyoffate.livejournal.com]

It had taken Waspinator far too long to figure out flight in his new body. Hopping up and down on the roof of the apartment complex he'd woken in, he cursed both under his breath and at the top of his lungs, alternatively. Why hadn't the stinking fuzor gotten the aerial general? He couldn't even remember the last time he was airborne, slag it all...

After a certain amount of trial and error (and a few tries of scaling the chimneys), he managed to stay in the air; scrapes and bruises aside.

He approached the warehouse cautiously, certain that there would be some kind of trick or booby trap on the inside. There were plenty of things wrong with his core processor, but memory wasn't one of them. He'd met Starscream before, after all.

Easing around the first doorway he saw, Waspinator hung in the air a few inches above the ground. He'd just gotten the hang of flight again, there wasn't a chance in the pit he was risking touching down and forgetting it. Scanning the huge, empty building, he came up with nothing. "Screamerbot!" He yelled, figuring that the Decepticon probably knew he was here already anyway.