A quick Drabble, because I haven't posted anything during November (cause I was winning NaNoWriMo!).
I would love suggestions for a title, I don't adore this one.
Word count: 243
Megatron stomped into the cell, irritated at the final straw in his horrible day. He stopped in front of three cells, his arms crossed.
In the first one was the new medic that he had re-established contact with, who was buffing out the many scratches that riddled his bright red surface. He merely looked annoyed, as if the whole thing wasn't his fault and he as much as a victim as the rest of the base. Which maybe he was.
In the second one was his huge companion, a blue mech with a scarlet face, who was pacing back and forth like a caged animal in his cell, occasionally banging his fists at the wall, frustrated. His paint was scrapped off in several places, and there were scratches covering him too, just like his companion.
Megatron finally looked over to the cell on the far right. There, sitting sweetly on her berth as if she was in her own room, Slipstream was without a scratch, dent or scrape anywhere on her body. She wore an innocent grin on her face, an expression that spoke of virtue and purity, though her eyes betrayed an unquestionable mischief about her.
Megatron walked over to Slipstream's cell, ignoring the other two. Standing at her door, Megatron kept his face flat.
"You have one minute to explain why you inexplicably attacked our new chief Medical Officer and his assistant within the first five minutes of their arrival. Go."