#//i went with a random nondescript location so it'll be easier to explain why everyone happened to be there ^^

[voraciouslyindulgent]

@viciousbite asked: -insert the meme icon to finding him next to a dead body here- //from Darkfang

Send ⚠ to find my muse next to a dead body

Beauty lived most vibrantly in the dying shrieks of a spark. The terror, the rage, the wordless pleas - none begged more desperately for life than on the precipice of oblivion. Tendrils of pure energy lashed and fought in whips of blinding light, screams unheard by all but the one plucking the strings. His own spark trembled with anticipation, pushing against the confines of its chamber. It felt too full, too hot, a smoldering burn nearly painful. Tarn wondered, a stray thought, if it would leap from his frame had he submitted to its desires and bared himself to its feast.

"Like the sun, how pristine it shines upon his light." He orated in a soft, gentle murmur, the libretto of a grand opera much adored. "Most sincere he was, yet betrayal he has committed to his most devout."

The mech below him, a dissenter who'd dared to threaten the peace of a triumphant Empire, let out an agonized cry, the jarring noise laced with static. Broken digits grasped for his mask, for his throat, but the grip was weak as energon bled a hefty pool across the ground. Upon the moon of a distant planet, hidden in the alleyway of a transport hub, Tarn sang the last notes of his hunt, and allowed his spark to gorge for the first time in years.

"Torn he was from his most beloved, from this world, by his own sword." The mech's life sputtered and flickered beneath him, stolen by force as his spark, its light barely visible through the seams of his armor, claimed consumption and ate its fill. "Truer oaths than his have never been sworn. None was purer." He sighed, shivering. "More loved...was no other."

The mech's hands fell limply, splattering in the puddle of energon faintly glowing. His plating dulled, mouth agape but lax, as Tarn completed his recitation. The last ribbon of energy seeped through his chassis, slipping between crevices to be taken by the insatiable hunger within him. With audible clicks, his armor closed snugly, and sealed his spark.

Overwhelmed still by the encounter, Tarn sat atop the corpse, kneeling on the wet, muddy ground. Intoxicated, his ventilation hummed a constant stream of heat, fuel pump a steady, thudding beat inside him. Stowed away in the dark, he didn't suspect anyone would discover him, or that an onlooker might be present. Oblivious, he waited for the rush to abate, optics dim and gaze unseeing.