“Mate, you wanna kill me, go for it. But trust me on this, not much scares me, but actually truly angering Asphalt, now that scares me. And if you kill me, well, I have to say not even I’d wish to see what he does to you.” Savage replied, hissing as he glared darkly, a tone of actual seriousness to his voice.
“As for you tiny, well what’s not to hate? You’r eegotistical, self-important, and what’s worst is you’re acting purposely robotic, cold, you’re trying to hide who you are behind a front of what you perceive as professionalism. I know your type, you like to toy with others, worm your way into their trust and play with it, see how far you can push it, how much you can get away with before you actually hurt someone. Let me guess, you’ve managed to gain all of the faction leaders trust eh? What’ve you done with it? Grouched when you were ignored? Attempted escape, broke into files, lied for fun? People like you actually sicken me, so come on, tell me what not to hate about you.” Savage called out to Firestorm, still glaring darkly as he stood up, giving himself a quick brush-off before heading back to the gun seat to assess the damage.
Firestorm was, hidden withing his little sanctuary, shaking with livid rage. Said the one who would possibly let all Transformers die if it meant his own survival. He thought angrily.
Firestorm jumped out of the compartment with his supplies and went over to Thunderfoot and asked, “Requesting permission to ride up on top of your head.”
“… Nothin’ eh? Bah, as I suspected. I bet you don’t care about anything but your own spark, that the reason you even care about helping take down this Nova guy is to justify to yourself that you can care about others. I can at least say I care about Asphalt, my brother, even if it’s but a mockery, a twisted version of the norm. I still care for him as much as I can with my defect and he does the same. You have no one, you’re just nothing trying to pretend to be something, something important, something you can say to yourself makes up for what you are, justify’s it.” Savage replied, still glaring before he turned and started fiddling with the gun controls, checking over the damage.
Savage continued to shake Asphalt, infrequent and barely noticeable flickers of light flashing at random times before Asphalts fist suddenly slammed into Savage’s jaw, slamming his head upwards and knocking him over.
“What have I told you about doing that to wake me up, Savage?! Ugghh, my head.” Asphalt groaned, sitting up weakly as he pressed a palm to his forehead, Savage also groaning as he lay upon his back, his eyes dazed.