[Complete]
Who: Rodimus and SG!Megatron
What: Getting jumped in not-actually-back-alleys
Where: Just outside the Tyran base
Summary: Megatron doesn't believe Rod, no matter how good a story he spins.
Notes: Rod tells VERY good lies. Megatron has a Cassandra complex.
Confounder
Lurking in wait for a victim did not come naturally to Megatron, but in a war in which the Decepticons were sorely outnumbered, he'd learned the skill well enough. This time, at least, he had little intention of killing the mech he was waiting for. A fairly innocent query had resulted in Rodimus's current location, and all Megatron had to do was loiter out of sight of the Tyrans' apartment until the Autobot emerged.
Evilmoustache
Rod was bored, tired lonelybored and annoyed. The spill had been cleaned up, but the Tyrans hadn’t settled back to their base properly yet, and both Ironhide and Soundwave weren’t interested in drinks or socializing. He didn’t have enough tolerance built up to try to hang out with Starscream, and he’d had enough of humans for a few days at least - so he was heading back ‘home’ to his overpriced apartment and to Stampy, one of the most interestingly useless mechs he’d ever met. He was, admittedly, distracted. Which was likely why he didn't notice anything strange upon leaving the Tyran base. He was distinctly lost in thought - mainly how he was hoping to approach Megatron and what would be the best tactic to take to ensure his cover wasn't blown.
Confounder
Even better than Megatron - the Megatron that Rodimus was most familiar with - could have hoped. The Autobot was clearly elsewhere mentally, and that made it remarkably easy for Megatron to slip in behind him. "Just the mech I've been waiting to see," he announced calmly to the recolored mech's back.
Megatron was waiting when Rodimus whirled, one hand drawing a weapon and the other aiming a punch - Autobots had terrible startle reflexes as a general rule. The Decepticon leader caught Rodimus's wrist before he could ready his weapon, dodging the punch with equinamity. "I'd like a word with you, Rodimus."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus struggled, off balance and angry - angry at being followed and angry at being surprised and angrier still at being stopped from lashing out. He recognized the face of the bot in front of him, and that only made things worse. Frag.
He continued to struggle in vain to give himself time to think - he’d planned for this, though admittedly he’d expected Starscream to show up first. “Get your hands off me, you Decepticon scum!” He snarled, trying to wrench his hand from Megatron’s. He made sure he wasn’t using his full strength, which made the entire affair rather pointless - but a show of effort was needed. “Skulking in the shadows, hey? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you under the paint?”
He yanked again, this time aiming a surprise kick hard enough to unbalance Megatron and free his arm with a tug harder than the ones he’d been trying up until that point. The canon was quickly aimed at the other’s face - but Rod paused, face showing confused, not even trying to yank his other hand free. “Wait - you - you’re Multivariable, ain’t ya?”
Confounder
Megatron pushed at the barrel of Rodimus's cannon with his own, moving it away from his face. "If you like." The Decepticon's face was impassive, the sort of expression that normally meant Prime had /phenomenally/ enraged the mech somehow. To anyone unfamiliar with Megatron, he only seemed a little irritated by something.
Evilmoustache
Rodimus was very familiar with the expression, seeing Megatron use it on the field. Rod also knew better than to make things worse. He relaxed, completely, letting his arm drop and the canon powering down, his servos shifting as he made himself settle, tugging now lightly at the grip Megatron still had on his arm. “You’re ‘Wave’s Megs, right? Whatcha doin sneakin up onna bot like that for? I coulda slagged you, an then he’d’a killed me.” He shook his head, as if staring at Megatron was hard. “Man. It’s creepy lookin at you.” He kept himself as open as possible - banking that ‘Megs would want to play nice instead of slagging him on the chance he really was a god ol’bot and not the Rodimus he thought he was.
Hopin at least.
Confounder
The corner of Megatron's mouth twitched into a faint smile, the expression not making it anywhere near his optics. Still, he released Rodimus's hand, the action very deliberate. "I'm sure it is. And as it so happens, it's Soundwave that I would like to speak to you about..."
Evilmoustache
Rod shook himself out, rolling his shoulders and nodding at Megatron, as if being accosted on the street were simply that easy to shrug off. “He’s inside- ain’t feelin up much for company, but I’m sure he’ll be glad seein you.” His optics looked Megatron over nervously, though he held his ground and did his best to look at ease. He hoped he failed.
“Be careful though- grabbin a bot on the street like that- you look too much like my Megs for comfort, you know? No point askin for more trouble yet.”
Confounder
"I need to speak to you, not Soundwave," Megatron corrected - the words lacked the mech's characteristic dry humor, and that was /also/ a dangerous sign. When someone who could find something amusing about hanging over a five-deathtrap monstrosity saw no humor in a situation, it boded ill for anyone even remotely involved. "It should not take much of your time."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus shrugged, leaning back against the building behind him. He wished he still had the high-grade he'd left for Soundwave- a can right now would help settle shakes he didn't realize he'd have with this meeting, and would make Rod look even more stupid and not-at-all-threatening. He had a suspicion where this conversation was gonna go (Soundwave was a Decepticon, an this was Megs, an what else was he gonna do?) but that didn't mean he could make plans for everything.
At least being right by the Tyran base meant Megs probably wouldn't try to scrap him outright. And words- well, words just weren't too scary when he was used to hearin Prime spout threats.
"I gots time, so whatever ya need m'bot. What's'about 'Wave?"
Confounder
"I don't blame you for not wanting to show your faceplates in the same vicinity as Optimus Prime," Megatron said without preamble. "Others have chosen to believe your story; I have not. You have been given an /opportunity,/ Rodimus." The Decepticon's tone of voice did not make it sound like a gift.
Evilmoustache
“What story?” Rod asked, optics flaring in annoyance - he didn’t like the tone Megatron was taking with him, and he didn’t bother to hide it. “An it’s Rod. Nobot calls me Rodimus, especially not you.”
Confounder
Finally, Megatron's optics narrowed with a faint trace of that characteristic dark amusement. "If I am incorrect, I will explain right after my apology, but I don't think it will come to that."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus shuddered. It took a minute to create the effect: he’d had to play back one of his failures to Prime to achieve the desired effect. He was suddenly glad he’d never buried those memories in his banks: being able to pull them up as needed was useful in some situations.
Rod pressed back against the wall, realized what he was doing, and shook himself, forcing himself to step out from the wall and back onto the street - shifting so he had a line of retreat. “You know for all ‘Wave’s been after you bein a ‘cool dude’ you’re a bit bein... hard to give the benefit of doubt, if you catch my meanin.” Rodimus was scared, which made it easy for Rod to be scared and clearly trying to hide it, as if bravado ever stopped something like Prime or Megatron.
Confounder
"So are you." Megatron didn't react visibly to the fear Rodimus was displaying, aside from that shadow of humor vanishing as quickly as it had come. "But I believe you understand my concern quite well, and so I will leave you with one observation. I know that you are smarter than you'd like everyone to think, but you're not as smart as you think you are, either. I take no pleasure in reminding you what happened at Praxus-Delta, the Novus heap, and at Kaon."
Evilmoustache
“You-you dare” Rod sputtered, fists clenched, the canon on his arm actually powering up for a moment before he could bring himself back in line. “You don’t even know. Primus damn you!” he took the anger - he’d lost the Wreckers that day, all of them, on that contract - at Megatron’s hands - and slammed his fists into the wall beside him (instead of at Megatron, as he oh so wanted to).
Engine whirring and cooling system attempting to compensate, Rod stood and shook for a few moments before he forced himself to look at Megatron. “I lost a lot of good men that day. To a ‘Con who looks like you an sounds like you, an the only reason you ain’t slag right now is Soundwave and the fact that youse ain’t supposed to be the bots I’m fightin, an you’re walkin close to me not even carin bout that no more.”
He shook out his fists, chunks of brick falling from the joints of his fingers. “I’m getting clear now that you got me figured for the Rod in your ‘verse, right enough. Well I ain’t, for all the good that does me. This you threatenin me? We can just add it to the list then of why this damn Nexus can go to hell, you with it.” He gestured out to the city streets, optics flaring wildly. “What? Want me away from ‘Wave? Fine. I’m so damn tired of this world and tryin to figure Cons who are supposed to be the good guys and Bots who don’t act like they’re supposed to at all an knowin how bad the war’s goin without me an not bein able to go home because there’s bigger bots who don’t care who’s dyin while they file things.” The last sentence was a strangled cry, Rod turning away from Megatron to look down the street, leaving his back open, shuddering as his engine revved in his chest.
In a strange, almost surreally funny way, Rodimus found he was getting truly upset. He’d spent so much time crafting the lie, creating this ‘Rod’, he was starting to believe it himself. He wasn’t sure if that was useful, or dangerous.
Confounder
Megatron would need more than his personal certainty to shoot Rodimus in the back - though not /much/ more. His tone was cold, deliberately so, as he replied. No, he didn't like doing this at /all./ "I'm glad that you understand me. If I'm wrong about you, I will apologize, but I consider that possibility unlikely at best. I trust you'll keep that in mind this evening."
Evilmoustache
“Stick it in neutral, Megatron. Day I get an apology outta a ‘Con, any ‘Con, I’ll-“ he cut himself off with a snort, as if the response was too rude to actually finish. “You know what’s funny?” He kept his back to Megatron, still shaking slightly, his voice strained as though he was holding back emotion and attempting, however futilely, to keep it even. “Funniest thing is, best reception I got here was from a damn Decepticon. From a face I’m used to seein kick my aft across the turf more often than not. It wasn’t easy, but I ain’t exactly got friends here, an I thought I’d give ‘Wave the benefit of the doubt, you know?” He glared over his shoulder at the other mech. “Cause it’s easy, seein the cons you been fightin and tryin to settle that they ain’t the guys who slagged most of your men an killed your par-“ he stopped, and looked away. “Jus’ forghetaboutit. You don’t want to see me round, you ain’t the only one. I’m gone.”
He took a few steps away and stopped, fists clenched as he stared up at the Zones above. “I want to go home.” His voice was hardly audible. “Thassal.”
He shook himself out again, engine a quiet pur as transformed to alt mode and drove away.
What: Getting jumped in not-actually-back-alleys
Where: Just outside the Tyran base
Summary: Megatron doesn't believe Rod, no matter how good a story he spins.
Notes: Rod tells VERY good lies. Megatron has a Cassandra complex.
Confounder
Lurking in wait for a victim did not come naturally to Megatron, but in a war in which the Decepticons were sorely outnumbered, he'd learned the skill well enough. This time, at least, he had little intention of killing the mech he was waiting for. A fairly innocent query had resulted in Rodimus's current location, and all Megatron had to do was loiter out of sight of the Tyrans' apartment until the Autobot emerged.
Evilmoustache
Rod was bored, tired lonelybored and annoyed. The spill had been cleaned up, but the Tyrans hadn’t settled back to their base properly yet, and both Ironhide and Soundwave weren’t interested in drinks or socializing. He didn’t have enough tolerance built up to try to hang out with Starscream, and he’d had enough of humans for a few days at least - so he was heading back ‘home’ to his overpriced apartment and to Stampy, one of the most interestingly useless mechs he’d ever met. He was, admittedly, distracted. Which was likely why he didn't notice anything strange upon leaving the Tyran base. He was distinctly lost in thought - mainly how he was hoping to approach Megatron and what would be the best tactic to take to ensure his cover wasn't blown.
Confounder
Even better than Megatron - the Megatron that Rodimus was most familiar with - could have hoped. The Autobot was clearly elsewhere mentally, and that made it remarkably easy for Megatron to slip in behind him. "Just the mech I've been waiting to see," he announced calmly to the recolored mech's back.
Megatron was waiting when Rodimus whirled, one hand drawing a weapon and the other aiming a punch - Autobots had terrible startle reflexes as a general rule. The Decepticon leader caught Rodimus's wrist before he could ready his weapon, dodging the punch with equinamity. "I'd like a word with you, Rodimus."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus struggled, off balance and angry - angry at being followed and angry at being surprised and angrier still at being stopped from lashing out. He recognized the face of the bot in front of him, and that only made things worse. Frag.
He continued to struggle in vain to give himself time to think - he’d planned for this, though admittedly he’d expected Starscream to show up first. “Get your hands off me, you Decepticon scum!” He snarled, trying to wrench his hand from Megatron’s. He made sure he wasn’t using his full strength, which made the entire affair rather pointless - but a show of effort was needed. “Skulking in the shadows, hey? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you under the paint?”
He yanked again, this time aiming a surprise kick hard enough to unbalance Megatron and free his arm with a tug harder than the ones he’d been trying up until that point. The canon was quickly aimed at the other’s face - but Rod paused, face showing confused, not even trying to yank his other hand free. “Wait - you - you’re Multivariable, ain’t ya?”
Confounder
Megatron pushed at the barrel of Rodimus's cannon with his own, moving it away from his face. "If you like." The Decepticon's face was impassive, the sort of expression that normally meant Prime had /phenomenally/ enraged the mech somehow. To anyone unfamiliar with Megatron, he only seemed a little irritated by something.
Evilmoustache
Rodimus was very familiar with the expression, seeing Megatron use it on the field. Rod also knew better than to make things worse. He relaxed, completely, letting his arm drop and the canon powering down, his servos shifting as he made himself settle, tugging now lightly at the grip Megatron still had on his arm. “You’re ‘Wave’s Megs, right? Whatcha doin sneakin up onna bot like that for? I coulda slagged you, an then he’d’a killed me.” He shook his head, as if staring at Megatron was hard. “Man. It’s creepy lookin at you.” He kept himself as open as possible - banking that ‘Megs would want to play nice instead of slagging him on the chance he really was a god ol’bot and not the Rodimus he thought he was.
Hopin at least.
Confounder
The corner of Megatron's mouth twitched into a faint smile, the expression not making it anywhere near his optics. Still, he released Rodimus's hand, the action very deliberate. "I'm sure it is. And as it so happens, it's Soundwave that I would like to speak to you about..."
Evilmoustache
Rod shook himself out, rolling his shoulders and nodding at Megatron, as if being accosted on the street were simply that easy to shrug off. “He’s inside- ain’t feelin up much for company, but I’m sure he’ll be glad seein you.” His optics looked Megatron over nervously, though he held his ground and did his best to look at ease. He hoped he failed.
“Be careful though- grabbin a bot on the street like that- you look too much like my Megs for comfort, you know? No point askin for more trouble yet.”
Confounder
"I need to speak to you, not Soundwave," Megatron corrected - the words lacked the mech's characteristic dry humor, and that was /also/ a dangerous sign. When someone who could find something amusing about hanging over a five-deathtrap monstrosity saw no humor in a situation, it boded ill for anyone even remotely involved. "It should not take much of your time."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus shrugged, leaning back against the building behind him. He wished he still had the high-grade he'd left for Soundwave- a can right now would help settle shakes he didn't realize he'd have with this meeting, and would make Rod look even more stupid and not-at-all-threatening. He had a suspicion where this conversation was gonna go (Soundwave was a Decepticon, an this was Megs, an what else was he gonna do?) but that didn't mean he could make plans for everything.
At least being right by the Tyran base meant Megs probably wouldn't try to scrap him outright. And words- well, words just weren't too scary when he was used to hearin Prime spout threats.
"I gots time, so whatever ya need m'bot. What's'about 'Wave?"
Confounder
"I don't blame you for not wanting to show your faceplates in the same vicinity as Optimus Prime," Megatron said without preamble. "Others have chosen to believe your story; I have not. You have been given an /opportunity,/ Rodimus." The Decepticon's tone of voice did not make it sound like a gift.
Evilmoustache
“What story?” Rod asked, optics flaring in annoyance - he didn’t like the tone Megatron was taking with him, and he didn’t bother to hide it. “An it’s Rod. Nobot calls me Rodimus, especially not you.”
Confounder
Finally, Megatron's optics narrowed with a faint trace of that characteristic dark amusement. "If I am incorrect, I will explain right after my apology, but I don't think it will come to that."
Evilmoustache
Rodimus shuddered. It took a minute to create the effect: he’d had to play back one of his failures to Prime to achieve the desired effect. He was suddenly glad he’d never buried those memories in his banks: being able to pull them up as needed was useful in some situations.
Rod pressed back against the wall, realized what he was doing, and shook himself, forcing himself to step out from the wall and back onto the street - shifting so he had a line of retreat. “You know for all ‘Wave’s been after you bein a ‘cool dude’ you’re a bit bein... hard to give the benefit of doubt, if you catch my meanin.” Rodimus was scared, which made it easy for Rod to be scared and clearly trying to hide it, as if bravado ever stopped something like Prime or Megatron.
Confounder
"So are you." Megatron didn't react visibly to the fear Rodimus was displaying, aside from that shadow of humor vanishing as quickly as it had come. "But I believe you understand my concern quite well, and so I will leave you with one observation. I know that you are smarter than you'd like everyone to think, but you're not as smart as you think you are, either. I take no pleasure in reminding you what happened at Praxus-Delta, the Novus heap, and at Kaon."
Evilmoustache
“You-you dare” Rod sputtered, fists clenched, the canon on his arm actually powering up for a moment before he could bring himself back in line. “You don’t even know. Primus damn you!” he took the anger - he’d lost the Wreckers that day, all of them, on that contract - at Megatron’s hands - and slammed his fists into the wall beside him (instead of at Megatron, as he oh so wanted to).
Engine whirring and cooling system attempting to compensate, Rod stood and shook for a few moments before he forced himself to look at Megatron. “I lost a lot of good men that day. To a ‘Con who looks like you an sounds like you, an the only reason you ain’t slag right now is Soundwave and the fact that youse ain’t supposed to be the bots I’m fightin, an you’re walkin close to me not even carin bout that no more.”
He shook out his fists, chunks of brick falling from the joints of his fingers. “I’m getting clear now that you got me figured for the Rod in your ‘verse, right enough. Well I ain’t, for all the good that does me. This you threatenin me? We can just add it to the list then of why this damn Nexus can go to hell, you with it.” He gestured out to the city streets, optics flaring wildly. “What? Want me away from ‘Wave? Fine. I’m so damn tired of this world and tryin to figure Cons who are supposed to be the good guys and Bots who don’t act like they’re supposed to at all an knowin how bad the war’s goin without me an not bein able to go home because there’s bigger bots who don’t care who’s dyin while they file things.” The last sentence was a strangled cry, Rod turning away from Megatron to look down the street, leaving his back open, shuddering as his engine revved in his chest.
In a strange, almost surreally funny way, Rodimus found he was getting truly upset. He’d spent so much time crafting the lie, creating this ‘Rod’, he was starting to believe it himself. He wasn’t sure if that was useful, or dangerous.
Confounder
Megatron would need more than his personal certainty to shoot Rodimus in the back - though not /much/ more. His tone was cold, deliberately so, as he replied. No, he didn't like doing this at /all./ "I'm glad that you understand me. If I'm wrong about you, I will apologize, but I consider that possibility unlikely at best. I trust you'll keep that in mind this evening."
Evilmoustache
“Stick it in neutral, Megatron. Day I get an apology outta a ‘Con, any ‘Con, I’ll-“ he cut himself off with a snort, as if the response was too rude to actually finish. “You know what’s funny?” He kept his back to Megatron, still shaking slightly, his voice strained as though he was holding back emotion and attempting, however futilely, to keep it even. “Funniest thing is, best reception I got here was from a damn Decepticon. From a face I’m used to seein kick my aft across the turf more often than not. It wasn’t easy, but I ain’t exactly got friends here, an I thought I’d give ‘Wave the benefit of the doubt, you know?” He glared over his shoulder at the other mech. “Cause it’s easy, seein the cons you been fightin and tryin to settle that they ain’t the guys who slagged most of your men an killed your par-“ he stopped, and looked away. “Jus’ forghetaboutit. You don’t want to see me round, you ain’t the only one. I’m gone.”
He took a few steps away and stopped, fists clenched as he stared up at the Zones above. “I want to go home.” His voice was hardly audible. “Thassal.”
He shook himself out again, engine a quiet pur as transformed to alt mode and drove away.