Of course she had some trouble collecting her supplies. She was met with a wall of thugs who were more than happy to pull her apart like a tangle of wires.
What they DIDN'T count on was that "somebody" tipped off a certain biker gang of the red herring she'd demanded in her list - energon dispenser - who wanted it pretty bad now that they'd gone awhile without one. She watched the brawl, watched the biker gang lose, watched the thugs one at a time give up trying to keep the post - since word travels fast in this area - and eventually give up, taking everything with them. Lyra needed to only corner her and demand the organic substances, something she was more than happy to do once Lyra made it abundantly clear she wasn't going to be nice, and that the Church of Primus wasn't that nice about replacement equipment being within their grasp so easily, either.
Poor kid...this thug was barely old enough to be free of her mentor, let alone trapped in a horrible life like this.
Lyra brought everything back to Arkvander's.
"Ima shoot you in the head!" he threatened.
"Relax, I'm here to 'rent' your 'equipment.' Where's the oven?" He had a kiln that could bake anything at any temperature.
He held out a hand. "Payment first."
"Fine, here." He wasn't messing around about signing a million forms, either.
"Do ya know how to use it?"
Even when condescending he was beautiful. Lyra tried not to sigh. "I do not. Help me?"
The end result, after a horrific mess, looked like a nightmare. Still, she was proud that they looked - and tasted, thanks Starscream - similar to what she had witness being assembled before. Better yet, the 'frosting' was pretty good, too!
Mega, who had quietly watched her throughout her trial and error, now spoke. "What are they?"
Her pride and ambition had never been higher. "The things that will bring me Grimlock!"
So much time had passed...yet she'd never heard from her brother.
In the early days of starvation Lyra had attempted to get in line for the Church of Primus' handouts. She heard much, learned little.
Then one day, she managed to grab the audio receptor of a volunteer. She did not like what she told her.
"There aren't any more relatives coming to pick anyone up..." she repeated.
"Yes. Mirage, the new Civilities Manager, ordered that it stop, since most budgets were redirected into repair funds." This volunteer gave a pitying look. "I'm sure your brother will find you sooner or later," she lied.
This was a low blow. "I'm sure he will," Lyra breathed, swaying a little from the shock. "After all we've been through. Excuse me."
She returned to walking nowhere with nothing. Thinking of even less.