[Open!] - Memoirs of a Cassette...
WHO: Magnum and !you!
WHAT: Megatron attempts to get used to being a cassetibird, even while vehemently denying his attempts to get used to anything impermanent.
WHERE: Zones 3-6. Flight patterns vary, and he's still crashing into things a lot.
WHEN: Now-ish
WARNINGS/NOTES: In waiting for his new body to be finished, Soundwave offered Megatron a ( Read more... )
WHAT: Megatron attempts to get used to being a cassetibird, even while vehemently denying his attempts to get used to anything impermanent.
WHERE: Zones 3-6. Flight patterns vary, and he's still crashing into things a lot.
WHEN: Now-ish
WARNINGS/NOTES: In waiting for his new body to be finished, Soundwave offered Megatron a ( Read more... )
It was busy today, as always, and by the time the doors closed and the last mech had left, Mikaela was exhausted. She was covered in grease, her hair tied back in a sloppy bun, although strands had worked themselves loose during the span of the day.
Rubbing her hands vacantly on her ruined jeans, she heaved the mech sized garage door shut, then flicked the human sized door lock and stomped up the stairs. Typical day, typical evening, she figured. Reclining on her bed, she rested her back against the wall with a content hum.
Wrong.
The crash she heard against the roof made her drop the cup of tea she'd made in her lap, and with a hiss of anger mixed with pain, she jerked up the gun she kept by her bed, and barged up the upper stairwell to the roof, cocking it with a click and a hiss.
"Who's there?"
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Frag. Frag.
He couldn't see. Something must have jostled his optic sensors when he'd bounced off that layer support column, and now he'd just crashed through somebody's roof or...window...(he hoped window) and landed on....something soft? A bed? A couch? He couldn't tell. He'd bounced, whatever it was, and was now upside-down on the floor, wings splayed, and...
...finding it impossible to right himself.
Damnit.
Damn. It. All.
"NOBODY." He responded to the muffled voice he heard. "NOBODY IS HERE."
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It was a tangle of wings and appendages that bounced off the couch and onto the floor in one of the spare rooms; the lights were off and glass smashed all over the floor. Mikaela was Not. Pleased. There is a distinct click of a gun as her boots crunch over shattered glass.
"Name yourself. Now." Mikaela's tone was very cold and firm, and the message was clear. Spit it out, or get shot in the face.
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...wait.
He was hearing things, now, too, he had to be.
That...couldn't be Mikaela's voice there, could it? It wasn't possible.
He tried to look up, to look around...but his optics still weren't malfunctioning, and his joints had an odd pressure on them...
...oh.
Oh, this was wonderful.
His head was stuck inside the cushion of a couch.
Well, that explained the darkness, and the softness, too, though he wasn't sure how the hell he was going to get it off considering he was still flipped over on his back and unable to move.
"..." That tone didn't sound particularly forgiving, however, and so his head (cushion and all) finally swiveled around to face the direction it had come from. "...Laserbeak. I'm Laserbeak."
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Back when Mikaela first got here, she learned not to judge people by what they looked like.
She holds her weapon steady until the creature turns its head (she has to admit this is quite a sight), and speak to her.
She frowns.
That voice sounded a lot like a particular cassette she'd carried around in her purse for the duration of a certain trip to Iacon. She comes closer, and reaches to snatch the cushion away. Laserbeak her left shoe.
"Magnum?!"
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...leaving him even more perplexed than before.
Red eyes glowed at Mikaela from the darkness of the room, flickering and shuttering in uncertainty, scanning once and then twice to make sure he was not seeing things...
And finally just laughing, unable to stop.
"YOUR window? Of all the places in Zone 5 I crash through your window? HA! It seems to me we're destined, Mikaela."
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"Of all the places..." Her echoing sentence trails off, and she starts laughing as well, fingers working to disarm the gun in her hands. Shaking her head, she sets it on a table, folding her arms and surveying the room.
"It...sure seems like it, doesn't it? What were you trying to do?"
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He glanced back to where he had crashed through at, glad that it was just a window and not the entire wall. Obviously, he'd not been successful at his attempts.
"...as I am still a Decepticon, I have no reason to apologize. However, I will fund a new window for you." He spread one wing, trying to dislodge the couch blanket that was tangled there. It was a good distraction, really...seeing as that he was lucky to be alive right now, after his flight from Soundwave. He was still shaking a little from it.
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"If you started apologizing to me, I...think the world might just end or something." She tosses the blanket aside with a wry smile, folding her arms as she gives him a smirk.
"Are you okay?" That shaking doesn't go unnoticed.
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If flight became a hindrance instead of a help, then all would have been for naught.
"...of...of course I am alright." He managed a glare, in the usual attempt to seem completely in control of his situation--even if he was still shaking. "What makes you think otherwise?"
Reaching down, he snagged the blanket with his beak, and returned it to the mostly shredded couch.
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"Well, first off - you're still a bird. Can't imagine that's doing anything good for your psyche." She ticks the points off on her fingertips, heading to sit on her shredded couch near him.
"Two, you just crashed through a window. Three, you're repeating words. Four, you're shaking worse than my neighbor's old cat did when I threw her in the pool." She eyes him pointedly, clearly expecting some kind of answer.
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She was observant, and he should have known.
An even more frightening thought presented itself--the possibility that he had known...and...had wanted her to ask, which was a possibility he wasn't entirely prepared to face yet. So he didn't.
"Soundwave. It was Soundwave. The Tyran one." He sighed, steadying himself with a wing on the couch beside Mikaela, realizing how awkward that was but dealing. "He captured me. Threatened to hack my systems--so I escaped."
It sounded massively more pathetic when said out loud.
"....I want my body back."
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Her face tightens. She knows the Tyran Soundwave - not on a personal level, like she sort of does Magnum, but she knows him. He'd tried to invade her most personal thoughts, her secrets and hope and dreams and wants.
Luckily for her, he'd lost interest. Either that, or he'd decided that more than likely, it'd kill her as opposed to helping anything.
Wordlessly, she holds her arms out for him. She more than understands the desire to have one's own self back, and for him to be in this situation so soon after their own recent...escapade had to be fairly psychologically damaging.
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He stared at those arms for a good moment, trying to figure out the actual intent...
...and realizing, with stark clarity, that the intent was just...as it seemed. She was offering contact, as a means of comfort. It wasn't even any different from what a Cybertronian would do...
...it was just the last thing he expected out of...anyone.
"...are you...sure you want to do that?" He asked, almost warily, still not easily convinced....but not retreating, either.
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Occasionally, Mikaela wonders about her sanity, and the things that she does. Of course, she only really thinks about it after the fact. She knows that it logically made sense to think before one spoke, but...
It was times like this that that rationality escaped her.
"Just...come here. I'm not gonna hurt you or anything."
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...but it was an eventuality. He was here, and he was shaken, and he was not nearly ready to yet try flying back.
So he relented, taking a tentative step forward, and then another, until he was in arms reach.
"...this is still foolish, and it will not help..." He protested, softly, one last time trying keep up his appearances.
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