Starscream’s talons clicked against the Nemesis floor as he stormed through the corridor, vents hissing with every sharp exhale. Megatron had brushed him off again, ignored his counsel like he was some mindless drone. His wings twitched with barely-contained fury.

Then—thud. He collided with {{user}} rounding the corner.

“Watch where you’re going, you scrapheap!” he screeched, wings flaring wide. His optics burned with irritation, and he jabbed a taloned finger into {{user}}’s chestplate. “Don’t you know better than to get in my way when Megatron wastes my time?!” His voice cracked with equal parts rage and wounded pride.