[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Ten Seconds To Midnight (Neon)

[Thundercloud]

Episode 3 | Week One | Day 3

So. Thundercloud was pretty sure the new guy had already been given a tour around the base by someone way more qualified to do those things than he was, but that tour was probably all formal and informative and boring as hell. Enter Thunder, who liked to think he knew a thing or two about having a good time and figured he could give the new kid a way better housewarming party than the one he'd gotten.

It hadn't taken him long to find out which room Neon had been shuffled into – the base wasn't all that big, but it was easy to get lost if you weren't paying attention to how many turns you had taken. Thankfully, things around the outpost hadn't changed much while he had been under. All the twists and turns were still the same, nobody had gotten it in their head to flip the whole design of the base and switch all the rooms around. The world had spun on without him, but somehow it felt like he hadn't missed anything.

It was kind of a relief, in a way. Thunder wasn't the sort to ever admit to things like nostalgia or sentimentality, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't come to appreciate having a little consistency in his life. It wasn't like the outpost felt like home or any saccharine crap like that – not that Thunder really knew what that felt like in the first place – but it was nice to have familiar surroundings, things and people that actually stuck around long enough to get used to.

The new guy, Neon, he wasn't a part of any of that yet. He was a shiny and new and stuck out like the stranger he was, which is why Thunder had decided he needed to pay the guy a visit and size him up, find out what he was about – make him familiar.

There were probably (definitely) better ways to go about this than by shanghaiing him from his room after he had only just gotten settled in, but Thunder wasn't one to entertain multiple possibilities. He went with his gut instincts 9 times out of 10, which meant his first idea was usually his only one. Unfortunately for Neon, Thunder's first idea was to saunter up to his new quarters in the middle of the night, knock twice for posterity's sake, then immediately kick the damn door in before the room's occupant had the chance to answer.

“VIBE CHECK!”

[Deleted]

What a wonderful, silent night!

Although Neon wasn’t much of a sleeper if he had the choice, after traveling for so many lightyears on Kamal’s old ship, he was deathly tired. Why, he was essentially ready to lay down and fall asleep at moment’s notice. He bounced onto his recharge slab with a light thud, patting the surface with his hands. Nice and smooth.

He took one last look around the room and sighed happily with a warm smile. It was not a large room or anything, but it was cozy and comfortable. Sure, there were still some crates around that needed moving, but he could do that later. For now, he was just glad to have a place to sleep.

Nothing could go wrong…Nothing at all.

Knock, Knock!

What? Somebody was at the doors? Neon didn’t even notice any footsteps with how preoccupied with his surroundings he was. Before he could even finish the darn thought, boom, the doors came swinging in! Neon blinked twice, confused as fuck. What the hell was going on?!

Who he hell was this guy?! What the frag was a vibe check?!

He didn’t get it, not at all. Thunder’s off-brand Earth humor was completely lost on him. And why wouldn’t it? Neon barely knew what a human was. But he was also too polite to send Thunder to scamper off and annoy somebody else. Besides, he already kicked down the doors, so it must’ve been important!

“Uhm...Can I...help you with something?”

The black mech inquired in a thin, amicable tone.

“It’s pretty late. Maybe you should stop by tomorrow."

He didn’t want to sound rude, but he still felt like he should inform Thunder in case the big bot made a mistake and didn’t know what time it was. Oh, Neon, you poor, innocent soul. This was about to get much, much wilder. The night was still young, as the saying goes.

[Thundercloud]

When you've lived as long as Thunder has, keeping the sort of company he typical does, you tend to get used to people responding far more violently and vitriolically than Neon just did. Thunder was expecting to have a gun pulled on him, a knife reflexively thrown at his head, something. Instead the kid had a calm, completely reasonable reaction, which said a lot about him. To Thundercloud, that seemingly innocuous response spoke volumes - it said Neon probably wasn't much of a fighter, that he didn't have his fight-or-flight reflexes keyed up to 11.

It said he was a non-combative little nerd that would be super satisfying to dunk on.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a rakish little half-smile, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the doorjamb and made himself comfortable. He didn't bother keeping his field close to his plates; he let his quiet amusement radiate off him like heat from a coal.

"Actually I was thinkin' I could help you."

He said it like he was doing the mech a favor, barging into his room and imposing on him in the middle of the damn night - and he was, at least from his own twisted perspective. The way he figured, your chances of surviving and thriving in any kind of new environment depended on how well you knew who and what you were dealing with. That's certainly how things worked in Garrus, and even though he'd been out nearly as long as he had been in, Thunder still found himself applying prison rules to everyday situations. It was a habit, and not always a bad one. Sometimes thinking like he did when he was Inside came in handy - it helped him out of a few bad situations, gave him a frame of deference to look to when he was otherwise at a loss or out of his element. Which, y'know, was a lot, since prison kinda makes you forget how society works after a while.

"We got a pretty colorful cast of randos and degenerates livin' here, figured I'd give you the run down, let you know who's what."

He un-tucked a hand from the crook of his elbow, pointed at himself with his thumb.

"Me? I'm your friendly neighborhood low-life. My job's to make everybody look better by comparison."

He didn't sound the slightest bit ashamed of this - the very opposite, if anything.

[Deleted]

Primus had a wicked sense of humor. Was this some sort of divine punishment? Has it been ordained by the greater cosmic forces that Neon should suffer the greatest moron to ever disgrace the surface of the world? Godly in origin or not, it was gonna be a long, long night. And not the kind of long night Neon had in mind.

He rocked back awkwardly as his joints and gyros stiffened. That Thunder seemed aware and super self-satisfied with his little midnight foray into invading somebody’s privacy did not reassure him in the slightest either. But Neon was polite and he rarely complained.

And besides, the flier seemed so excited to show him around. How could he refuse such a heartfelt and genuine offer which had no basis in malice or mischief? None at all! Either way and for better or worse, Neon decided to play along with Thunder’s scheme or lack thereof.

“That’s—very nice of you,” he smiled weakly. You didn’t need creepy emotion-reading powers to known that Neon was rather uncomfortable in his position. But he also felt like he didn’t have a choice. If he could oblige a fellow Autobot, he would.

Besides, there was something oddly refreshing about Thunder’s inane stupidity, disregard for personal space, and complete ignorance of rules. Neon was used to leading a simple, structured life and this piece of work stood contrary to all of that.

“So, what’s your name?”

Neon asked, shifting his optics away from Thunder ever so often while twiddling his thumbs. He was not great with people if that wasn’t clear yet. He was also terrible at saying no while we’re on the subject of being obvious.

[Thundercloud]

...Huh. That was weird.

Thundercloud paused for a moment, unsure what to make of Neon's response – or lacktherof. Most mechs would a lot less agreeable about this whole situation, a lot more pissed off or dismissive. And rightly so; Thunder was well aware he was being a dick, imposing on a stranger in the middle of the night just for jollies. Usually when he was being a dick, people got salty; when he pushed, they pushed back. This new guy though, he was just taking everything in stride, like the thought of telling him to get fragged never even entered his mind. Thunder had to wonder what was going on in that pretty little head of his – was he intimidated? Just playing along so he wouldn't get on his bad side?

That seemed the most likely explanation. Anyone with half a brain would want to be on good terms with the convicted felon prone to solving problems with violence, especially if he was all up in your space with no one else around to save your sorry tailpipe if he went postal.

Not that Thunder was anywhere near as violent and unstable as he liked people to think he was, but that was beside the point. For all Neon knew, he was dealing with a mech who was every bit as scary and threatening as he looked, which meant it was in his best interest to play along. Looking at it that way, Thunder kinda bad – not enough to backpedal on his plan, but enough to dial down on the dickishness just a tad. He wanted to mess with the new guy, get to know him a little through some mild, good-spirited harassment, not make him fear for his life.

Then again, if Neon was scared of him he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. He wasn't shifting nervously or avoiding eye-contact, his voice was steady, and his field wasn't broadcasting anything even close to fear. He seemed more awkward than anything, like he was just going along with things 'cause he wanted to be nice, not 'cause he was worried about what would happen if he didn't.

Not a coward, then – just a mild-mannered pencil-pusher. Thunder could work with that.

“Ooh, look at you, assumin' I got a name.”

He flashed a sharp smile, just in case it wasn't obvious that he was just messing around.

“You gotta be careful askin' batch-builds that kinda slag. You expect a name, they'll give you a number and a busted headlight.”

Thunder pushed away from the doorframe hip-first, then took a few lazy steps into the room, stopping about an arms-length away from Neon. He looked him up and down, nodded to himself in approval of whatever it was he saw in the other mech, then offered him a hand to shake.

“Me, I ain't got time to recite all those digits. Just call me Thundercloud - Thunder for short, Cloud if you wanna die.”

[Deleted]

Neon reluctantly reached out, shaking the mech’s hand sloppily. He was still trying to process, but more importantly, he felt bad for Thunder. That he’d say something like this when meeting new people really set the tone. It had to do a number on self-esteem.

“Nice meeting you Thunder,” he kindly responded.

After a while longer spent shaking Thunder’s hand, Neon realized it was probably a good idea to stop. He retracted his arm back with a shy tug and an embarrassed chuckle. Oh, right! He totally forgot to introduce himself.

“I’m Neon!”

A happy, cheery voice. Then the techy pulled back a little. Of course Thunder knew who he was talking to, right? He didn't just barge in because Neon was the new guy, did he? Actually, he probably did. No, he most definitely did.

“You know...Like the gas...heh.”

He sounded a lot more deflated getting that little joke in. It was probably because Neon had nothing to go on and he barely knew how things worked around here. He wasn’t very social either, which did not help at all when it came to making small-talk.

“Sooo...where are we going first?” The mech asked anxiously and rubbed the back of his neck with a light shrug. Honestly, he had no business being this fidgety, but try telling that to a bot whose only company in life was a cranky old lady and piles of data.

[Thundercloud]

Thundercloud wasn't all that big on formalities - handshakes weren't typically his style, but you could tell a lot about a mech by their grip; how forceful or confident they were, how reserved or gentle. Neon's handshake told him the mech was awkward as all hell and probably didn't meet many extroverts, frontliners, ex-convicts, or combinations thereof. Thunder was probably setting a bad precedent for the poor guy. Not all ex-cons were in the habit of harassing their neighbors just for the hell of it, Thunder was just a special case.

...Well, no, Carbine would probably pull slag like that too, so he wasn't all that special. Maybe he was wrong about being the exception to the rule - maybe folks who did time in G1 really did just be like that.

Eh, that was a philosophical thought for another never. He had more interesting things to spend his precious little attention on -like how weirdly long that handshake was taking. He looked down at their clasped hands, then back up to Neon, one brow slowly raising until the other mech finally realized things were dragging on longer than they should have been.

He made a smooth recovery by laughing the whole thing off and diving straight into introducing himself, which Thunder appreciated. He hated it when people floundered and apologized; the secondhand embarrassment was excruciating.

"...The gas?"

He squinted slightly, brows furrowing as he processed what was apparently news to him.

"Huh. Here I thought neon was just like, a modifier. Y'know, for describing bright-ass colors."

To the surprise of absolutely no one who had even a passing familiarity with him, this was -somehow- not the stupidest thing Thundercloud had said that week. Hell, it wasn't even the stupidest thing he had said that day.

"Eh, the more you know."

Dismissing the subject with a shrug of his shoulders, Thunder turned back towards the door, expecting Neon to follow without needing to be asked.

"Keep up and you'll find out."

[Deleted]

Neon let out a flustered chuckle. Primus on a piston, Thunder was so dummy stupid. It’s not that Neon was trying to mock him, he just found it genuinely endearing. Not like the big blue mech was trying to be that, it was just an unintentional side effect that humored the little guy. But he did have half the mind to explain it before quickly dismissing the thought. Thunder didn’t look like the kind of bot who liked smartafts.

“Alright, let’s go,” he sleepily nodded, draggling after Thunder. He was ready to see the base all proper through the eyes of somebody who wasn’t forced to tour him around like a little lost puppy. Besides, what could go wrong? It’s not like it was smack middle of the night and Neon was following a convicted criminal.

Not to mention, he didn’t even know about that second part. Somehow, Neon never approached at the fact that not every single Autobot had a clean record. But it’s not like he can be blamed for it either. He didn’t exactly go out often back on Cybertron, and he has never seen a proper battlefield and what kind of people they pull in to keep the grinders grinding.

“Maybe I’ll get an opportunity to check out the Groundbridge proper. I heard you had a medic build it. Not that there’s anything wrong with medics, but you can’t beat a good engineer at his own game.”

Neon paused for a second, stopping in his tracks.

“I’m thinking out loud, ain’t I?”

H slammed his palm against his face with an audible thud. His shoulders drooped a little and his hand bent forward. Good job, you ditz. Way to sound boring.

[Thundercloud]

Thunder wasn't great at small talk - he could only go so long before saying something obscene or provocative, so he didn't mind letting other people take the floor so to speak. Neon was free to ramble on as long as he liked, so long as what he had to say wasn't boring as hell or completely beyond Thundercloud's understanding. Considering how fickle Thunder's attention span was and how small his knowledge pools were, however this wasn't saying much. As soon as folks started breaking out the scientific terminology or the three syllable words, he just checked right out.

Neon stopped himself before he could get anywhere near a tangent, though, which saved them both the trouble of Thunder having to stop and ask him to repeat himself. 

Pausing mid-step, Thunder glanced over his shoulder, turning slightly so he could see Neon past the bulk of his armor.

"--What? Nah, it's a good question. You wanna see the bridge, we can see the bridge."

He waved an arm, gesturing for Neon to stop feeling embarrassed and come get a move on.

"It ain't a modern marvel or nothin', but it gets the job done. Helluva lot better than anything I could've pieced together. Ships 'n generators 'n shit, I got that on lock. Anything that can punch a hole in space is a little outta my league."

He continued forward, sparing Neon a glance every now and again to make sure he was keeping up with his longer strides.

"What about you? You're some kinda techie, right? Geek-squad extraordinaire?"

[Deleted]

Neon lifted a hand and shook it side to side as to indicate that what Thunder said about him wasn’t completely accurate. While Neon was very smart and he knew a great deal about technology of all different sorts, he did not feel nearly confident enough in his own skills to consider himself an “extraordinaire.” Sure, he could take pride in his work, and he thought of himself as being very good at it, but nowhere near the top. That’s the spot he reserved for his teacher and her only.

“...Ish. You could say that, but it’d be more accurate to say I am, shall we say, a ‘Geek-squad’ upper-manager.”

Of course, Neon had no idea what a Geek-squad was. He just figured by association that it was something related to technology, engineering, or some other form of STEM field. But that aside, it didn’t seem like he had much of a problem keeping up with Thunder.

Though, being one to overthink simple things, Neon also noticed the bot’s habit of checking back to see if he wasn’t lagging behind. Perhaps Thunder was more cautious and aware of his large size than a cursory glance might suggest? Eh, best not to worry about it too much. He could run the risk of opening a can of space slugs.

“Either way, it’s not really important. In layman’s terms: I can fix stuff, build stuff, and design stuff.”

He casually explained, tilting his head upwards and adding a little bit more speed to his strut so that he could stand side to side with Thunder. Not that there was particularly a lot of room to allow that, but he tried to his best effort.

“But not weapons. Nope. I don’t make weapons. I mean—it’s not like I can’t, I just hate them,” Neon kept going.

“Besides these,” he pressed his hands into fists and a pair of energy blades ignited to life on the outside of his wrists, their generators hidden behind a sheet of black metal. They were a light magenta hue, sizzling with plasma and pent-up energy.

“But I like to think of them as tools.”

That sounded a little bit sad. It almost seemed like Neon wasn’t completely alright with having these welded into his frame, but the dangers out in the wider space made them necessary. He was also very conflicted on whether to be proud of them or hide them, as they stood pretty contrary to his pacifist nature.

Still, he figured Thunder wouldn’t mind. He seemed like the kind to appreciate a good weapon.

[Thundercloud]

Thundercloud had never been formally trained in anything related to repairs; everything he knew, he picked up through trial and error and occasional observation. Most folks didn't have the patience or the inclination to teach him jack shit, and the few who did quickly realized he wasn't exactly the best study. He either got things or he didn't - if the idea didn't click straight away, it was probably never going to. Not that that ever stopped Thunder from trying; he was nothing if not a stubborn, willful son of a glitch and he didn't like being told he couldn't do something.

As a result of this, Thunder had a habit of powering through his own confusion and lack of practical understanding until he got results. He couldn't tell you how or why things worked, or what the hell he did to get broken things working again, but get things working again he did. It was just a matter of persistently bothering machinery with a variety of different tools and solutions until they took the hint and stopped being broken.

Inventing things, though, building things from scratch - that was some next level shit.

He'd never admit it, but he kinda envied mecha who were built to create, not destroy. Sure, he enjoyed wrecking shit as much as the average meathead frontliner, but he liked the idea of being able to balance the scales, to put as much into the world as he took out. He wasn't anywhere close to striking that kinda balance, though - he could spend the rest of his life trying to make up for all the things he broke and lives he snuffed out, and even then he'd barely make a dent. The way he figured, he was always gonna be in the red, so he may as well double down on being an agent of entropy.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the slag other people made. Neon, he seemed the type of guy who made quiet, unassuming little gadgets - the polar opposite of Wheeljack's crazy-ass bombastic gizmos. Y'know, the sort of stuff that was practical but not much to look at, had utility but no potential for weaponization. That's what Thundercloud figured, at any rate.

Cue the baffled, pleasantly surprised look on his face when Neon pulled out a pair of sick-ass energy-blades like they were no big deal.

Now normally when someone pulled a knife on him, Thunder's brain would scream prison rules! and automatically send his fist into their face, but after being out of G1 for so long he was getting better at putting a lid on his more... feral instincts. It helped that Neon was about as threatening as a strongly worded post-it note; even with his weapons out, Thundercloud didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him. If anything, he thought it was kinda cute - a techie playing soldier, holding a pair of badass weapons like he had any business being anywhere near a fight.

For a moment, Thunder fought with the sudden, irrational urge to sweep the other mech's legs out from under him or put him up to the wall, see just how much good those flashy toys would do him when push came to shove.

Thunder resisted the temptation, however, and settled instead for simply raising his brows and letting out a low, appreciative whistle.

"Hot damn. You made these?"

Because he was equal parts curious, reckless, and stupid, he reached out to give one of the blades an experimental poke. He had no pain receptors in his hands and no sense of self-preservation in his head, so touching the weird glowing energy construct seemed like a perfectly good idea to him.

"Leave it to a pacifist to find a way to make a shivvie look pretty.'"

[Deleted]

“Oh, no, no, no! I wouldn’t—” Neon panicked, but couldn’t even finish his thought before Thunder jabbed the stream of purple currents. If he had any pain receptors, this would sting; a lot. But he didn’t, and to Neon’s surprise, his hand was probably not doing so bad against the weapon either, considering the modifications Thunder had installed that the other mech was as of yet unaware of.

Well, Neon sure as hell wouldn’t wait around until it did something to Thunder. With a concerned grunt, he snapped his fingers and the edge-shaped lilac plasma dissipated into thin air and light mauve smoke.

“Please, don’t do that. Ever. Again.” He huffed with relief. The sentence wasn’t said in a way that would indicate that Neon was trying to give Thunder orders. Really, his intent was simply to articulate that it unnerved and worried him. This was not a child’s toy. Blades like these were more than capable of killing bots if used properly. Not that Neon ever had to do something so drastic, or that he even knew how he would do that if push came to shove.

He wrung his hands and adjusted the cuffs of his forearm plates in a distressed manner coupled together with a disturbed expression. He didn’t want to seem rude but he asked anyway.

“Are you—okay? Should I fetch a medic?”

Neon couldn’t feel anything even approaching pain from Thunder’s EMF, but he also knew that the empathetic abilities with which he was gifted were not infallible and that some bots were really good at hiding their feelings. He figured the blue mech could be just such a person, with how much he lessened himself to appear so substandard in contrast with everybody else while somehow sticking to gleeful joy at the same time.

But even that was a stretch, and really, Neon probably worried too much. This was war. Way worse things happened every day than somebody getting their fingers cut a little. Not like it was his fault, but he just had no scale of comparison, coming from a sanitary place where injuries were a rarity...Well, ones that weren’t work-related.

People getting hurt just because they were morons was a completely new experience. Not to worry, though. With Thunder around on a daily basis, it was pretty much certain that this would grow old on Neon very quickly.

At least he wasn’t responsible for his health. Primus, he felt so bad for that old grouchy CMO now.

[Thundercloud]

The thing about unethical body-modifications is nobody likes to talk about them, so nobody likes to think about them, so nobody ever suspects they're a thing when a situation arises where they'd be the most logical conclusion to jump to. It's a lot easier for people to look at all the slag Thundercloud does, all the stunts he pulls, and assume he's got a wicked high pain tolerance - the thought that he might not be able to feel any pain at all from the shoulders down is never a consideration. Partly because that's a weirdly specific condition to have, partly because the very idea is...kinda unseemly.

Point is, Neon had every reason to think there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for Thundercloud's reckless touching-of-things-that-shouldn't-be-touched that didn't involve ruthless body modification - like him just being a total dumbass.

That's honestly the most realistic conclusion one could come to, particularly in light of how confused he seemed when Neon rightfully freaked out over his act of supreme stupidity. It was like he didn't see what the big deal was, and needed someone to explain to explain to him (in small words) why he shouldn't ever do what he just did. Still, confused as he was, he held up his hands in the universal 'slow your roll' gesture, not only to assure Neon that he was fine, but to encourage him to calm down.

"Easy, Hoss. Don't even trip."

He curled the fingers of his left hand into a loose fist, then thumped it against his right shoulder.

"Can't feel nothin' from the joint down, pain-wise."

To emphasize just now okay he was, cause Neon looked like he could use the extra convincing, he held out his slightly singed hand and gave it a little wave. His fingertips were a little blackened, but the blistered paint didn't seem at all out of place considering it was surrounded by countless other little dings and scratches that went completely unnoticed by their owner.

"Here - hit me in the arm, hard as you can. I won't feel slag."

[Deleted]

At first, Neon looked flabbergasted. Thunder wasn’t hurting. That was good, great even! But...why? More importantly, he didn’t understand the kind of Earth slang he was trying to pull now. From past experience, he could distinguish what a Geek-squad was, and that a vibe check was some sort of human greeting. But he had no reference or context for this particular phrase.

He tilted his head quizzically and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re fine, but who is Hoss?”

With a quick sway of his weight, Neon brought a hand to his chest, then another, and started twiddling his thumbs nervously. He retorted with a plain albeit hesitant nod when Thunder explained the deal with his body. Okay, so he was numb to pain. He could get behind that. It probably spared him a lot of trouble on the battlefield. On the other hand, how would Thunder recognize something was wrong with his servos without a checkup?

That could be dangerous!

A sudden, shocking request. Neon staggered, stopped playing with his hands, and stiffly dropped them to the side of his torso, tensing up somewhat. Why would he hit Thunder? The bot’s already proven his pain tolerance by touching a literal beam of condensed plasma with his bare hands!

“I don’t know about this, Thunder.”

Unease and discomfort. Clearly, Neon didn’t need further proof of Thunder’s amazing modifications but he also wanted to turn him down in a courteous manner. Hopefully, that big blue jet wouldn’t be too mad.

“You can’t feel pain, that’s great! Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt you, though.”

Neon tried to explain, raising his shoulders ever so slightly while keeping his head low in a sign of submission. His antennae were pulled back, further adding to that feeling. it didn’t quite matter that Neon was too weak to significantly harm Thunder with a single punch, he just wasn’t a big fan of violence even if it was trivial.

He never actually punched anybody either and it made him a little queazy. What if he did it and found out that it felt good? His world view could completely flip on its head! Or maybe Neon was just overthinking stuff as usual and the implications of a good ol' punch have thus far been a foreign thing to him.

[Thundercloud]

Ugh. Uuuugh. If this guy got any more nice and decent, Thunder was gonna hurl. Or just, y'know, start to feel bad for giving him a hard time. It was downright uncanny, seeing someone act all bashful and nervous, twiddling their thumbs like they didn't know what to do with their hands - war had a way of beating that kind of modesty out of people. How the hell Neon managed to still care so much about social niceties was beyond Thundercloud's comprehension - he knew techies didn't usually see too much bloodshed, never really got firsthand experience the more brutal realities of war, but it was still strange to see someone who had managed to make it this long relatively unscathed.

Thunder waved a hand, dismissing Neon's concerns outright, tossing his protests straight in the garbage where they belonged.

"Don't even worry about it. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's takin' a beating."

He grinned, and a hundred different stories to verify that claim immediately surfaced in his mind. He could give Neon any number of examples, if he wanted, but Thunder strongly suspected the other mech wouldn't wanna hear 'em. He struck him as the squeamish type, the sort of guy who didn't even like to think about other people getting hurt, much less seeing it in person - or god forbid doing it himself.

As far as Thunder was concerned, that was all the more reason to goad him into throwing a punch. The guy had made it this far without needing to resort to violence, but now that he was on Earth - up against an army lead by the Decepticon Warlord himself - he was gonna need to know how to put up his dukes. He'd need some legitimate training, some actual structured combat practice, but first he needed to be eased out of his comfort zone and coaxed into giving violence a shot. And who better to do that than the persistent jackass who couldn't care less if he got hurt in the process?

"Come on, gimme your best shot. Five bucks says won't even leave a dent."