Day 41: Breakfast

[oftemptation]

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute

Comments

[clockmongler]

[Free for threading. Limit: 3]

Luxord was incredibly displeased to find himself alone in the morning.

Be it no fault of the god's, X was the one who was designated to sneak off into the night and did not much enjoy having the tables turned in that regard. Not because any concepts of shame or attachment or such things as that, but damn it, he had been perfectly comfortable. He had been warm, comfortable, and just sleepy enough to act as though he were truly happy, and then came dear Mr. Landel to muck it up as usual.

Dash it all.

Not that the morning could possibly ruin such a wonderful night. The Gambler cast a cursory glance to the lone woman staring at the doors (or perhaps it was somehow a man, you could never be sure here) when led in by McNursingson, then taking a seat at the opposite end of the cafeteria. He was in a pleasant enough mood, really. It just seemed that every instance he acted upon it brought him woe. He was hardly going to bother.

[oil_connoisseur]

How does Luxord feel about evil dictators and pancakes?

By the time Megatron had followed the woman through sterile corridors of the so-called ‘Landel’s Institute’, his processors had come online and he was utterly furious. It had taken him quite a few steps to get used to the altered weight placement from his usual form, and now he walked with his back straight and his head held high with a calm disdain. The woman had certainly noticed and frowned at him, before ordering him to stay ‘put’ after they had entered a large, echoing chamber. He was too exhausted to do anything different, staring out over the wash of humans.

Megatron had looked up at the ceiling, searching for even the most basic of security camera equipment, and, of course, if there was anything of interest it had been well hidden. If Megatron really had been placed in a simulation, the humans he was looking out at were nothing more than bits of code, shifting through his processor. If the Quintessons really had managed to transfer his processor into a human body… well

[clockmongler]

[NOT MUCH but fffff megatron. ♥]

The Nobody had taken to poking at his eggs with his fork and staring intently at his other hand, mind thinking back to the events of the night past. Or, to be more specific, he was playing a little game he liked to call "Whose Blood Is Under My Fingernails?" His nails were not even that long. How did it get under there?

Of course, then came the intrusive voice of one of Nursey's fellow McNursingson kin. It seemed even when he was not acting upon his good mood that it would be ruined. Wonderful

[oil_connoisseur]

[Luxord! ♥]

To fuel or not to refuel.

Staring down and absentmindedly drumming his fingers, Megatron couldn’t help but eye the glistening contents of his plate. He could assume his surroundings genuinely were simulated, and choose not to eat, but with the technology in consideration there was a very real chance that he could now be residing in a human body. If he did not refuel, and he was now organic, he would have no energy reserves to function on. He would be useless, and could easily be eliminated.

Well, he would somehow manage to be less of a threat than in his present state, which was decidedly minimal at best. He had an irritating realisation that Starscream, even as little more than a head, would most likely be an equal match. Organics, especially humans, seemed to be lacking in the department of even the most basic of defensive mechanisms

[clockmongler]

"No." And again for good measure. Luxord did not even bother to look at the other this time. He'd done this pathetic exposition dance to the new members of the institute countless times by now and, if the man wanted information out of him, he would be surely disappointed. That was what the bulletin board was for. "To anything you are about to ask, the answer is no. Even to a question where the answer would logically be otherwise, the answer is still no."

If there were one thing Luxord never enjoyed, it was being helpful to another person without anything to gain from it. And, considering how this man was obviously new within these walls, it was highly doubtful he'd anything of use. He regretted his cynicism not.

[oil_connoisseur]

“Oh, be still my wounded spa- heart,” Megatron said dryly, only just catching himself with a smirk, “Whatever shall I do without such a beacon of light and hope to the questions of the universe?”

If this was a simulation, the unknown variables within the human reply code were fascinating. This fact unfortunately made it even more logical that he was dealing with an actual human. (Whose hygiene habits were apparently much to be desired from the way he carefully examining the tips of his fingers.)

Pity. A simulation would have been far more pleasant company. Thankfully, with the right persuasion and leverage, humans could be bought like any Cybertronian - unfortunately, he was lacking anything that could remotely be considered ‘leverage’. The best he currently had on offer was a cooling fuel source, of which the human had his own to consume.

…that said, Megatron had been in worse situations with less.

After catching another fragment of the infernal pancake, wiping off the tree-sap against the side of his plate and placing it in his

[clockmongler]

It was not his fault that he could not fathom just whose blood was dried under the tips of his nails. There were four people from which it could have been, including himself, and the simple fact that he would have to sit through breakfast without having the ability to wash it away was going to annoy him for a good while.

At least until the man spoke with an obvious dose of sarcasm. He would admit, it made him smirk.

"I do believe those are questions and I should rightly answer the both of them with 'no', but it seems I cannot follow my own set of rules." He pulled a die from his sleeve, rolling it back and forth across his knuckles as he spoke with the same level of seriousness as the other. "For the first one, I suggest you weep at the loss of the obvious brilliance I am unwilling to share. Secondly," he tossed the die into the air before swiftly catching it, "it helps that such vast knowledge is trapped inside such a gorgeous body. Being stunningly attractive and charming makes these games much more bearable."

[oil_connoisseur]

…and yet it was still highly distasteful. Megatron had low tolerance for human hygiene rituals at the best of times, and now he was at the receiving end of a front row view. He supposed he should be grateful that it was just mere observational work, and not one the more… private interludes.

“My sincerest apologies,” Megatron said idly, and with a flat tone of one well aware that they were bordering on a cliché: “I’ve never been one to play by the rules

[clockmongler]

Perhaps Fortuna was not as cruel as he first suspected. A good sense of humor was always a good thing in Luxord's book, meaning the stranger had less of a chance of feeling X's imaginary ire and a higher probability of Luxord telling him something useful. It was still not a high probability, simply higher.

"It's a miracle, yes I know. I've been told, however, that," he trailed off, distracted, the screaming from another obvious newcomer catching the Nobody's attention and, for a minute, he could not decide what was more depressing--that he could actually understand and make sense of everything coming out of the man's mouth or that he found it comical. He had been spending too much time around II, really.

...back to the person in front of him, though. X extended a hand to the man, a wry grin on his face as he did so. "You've not yet given me your name. That can be incredibly rude, I will have you know."

[oil_connoisseur]

Agh, I’m sorry, tried to post this earlier but the internet provider kept dropping in and out. Keepin' it classy, Australian ‘broadband’.

Megatron had never been picky about where his sources of amusement necessarily came from, so when the dulcet tones of a younger screeching human caught at his audio receptors, he pivoted slightly to watch the spectacle. No matter how advanced the Quintessons actually were, it was highly unlikely they had the imagination for such variable characteristic tendencies in their simulations. The Judges within the race were apparently a textbook definition of bipolar, with each joint face for an emotion, while the lackeys barely managed that. He had always found it particularly ironic that they could imbue their creations with such emotional sentience, when they themselves felt sporadically at best.

Which meant, after all the other variables had been eliminated, the most likely conclusion unfortunately seemed to be that he was, in fact, humanThe realisation left Megatron cold. He ended up frozen,

[clockmongler]

Hm. Strong, firm handshake. It was a good sign, but it never told the whole story. The name he was given, on the other hand...

Ah, so they were going to play this game again, were they not? Luxord shook his head and chuckled as he brought his hand back, unconvinced. Either people would learn how to lie without hesitating or X would just have to call them out every instance. He would be fine with either or. "What is your name, Mr. Magnus?"

Why was it that others felt the need to lie about their names? A name was a name. The fact that they would hide something so rudimentary and simple was enough to drive the Nobody around the bend. Was it that simple 'a name brings power' stigma that mortals held so dear? Not that this "Magnus" was a human. Ugh.

[oil_connoisseur]

Megatron, completely unapologetic, quirked his lips in response. “Oh, you are far too quick.”

Apparently his processors weren’t up to full speed yet - he was still sluggish, and hopefully this was a misstep that wouldn’t cost him. Unfortunately, that most likely meant consuming more fuel, and the sight of cold pancakes partially bloated with absorbed syrup wasn’t necessarily an appetising one. It made Megatron long for a container of rich oil - one of the few amenities on Earth that was surprisingly passable. At any rate, Megatron could not afford to be off his game anymore than he was, so he reluctantly took another two bites and slowly chewed as he mulled over the human’s request.

Settling back once again in his chair, and interlacing his fingers, he eyed the man in barely concealed amusement. “Is the name ‘Megatron’ more adequate to your purposes, Mr…?”

[clockmongler]

"Luxord," he supplied helpfully, evidently pleased with himself. At least this one did not fight with him over such a silly thing as Mr. Grants had. They all came around eventually, but it made things much smoother if they simply gave in before he became exasperated with them.

The new name was... surprisingly familiar, however. The Nobody paused, bringing his hand upward to stroke his goatee (apparently forgetting about the pressing issue of the blood under his nails) in thought. It was merely something he'd seen in a passing glance, yet the memory was so strong. Why? It must not have been so important for him to not comment on it, but-...

Ah, yes. He should have know. The grin on his face grew disturbingly creepy as the realization dawned on him. "You'd not happen to be one of those... 'Decepti-somethings, hm? I believe your little robot friends have been searching for you."

[oil_connoisseur]

There were few circumstances in the entirety of his existence that had left Megatron genuinely bemused - the knowledge that he was not the only Decepticon idiotic enough to get caught by the Quintessons was certainly one of them. The astonishment did not outwardly show, but he could not entirely conceal the tensing of his muscles.

Megatron had been disabled by stasis lock in order to be captured. What was their justification? Even more problematic was that the subordinates in consideration were apparently behaving blatantly enough to spread themselves throughout the human faction. 'Subtly' was not necessarily a trait found in most of his Decepticon warriors, but secrecy certainly needed to be.

"Decepticon. I am used to my reputation proceeding me, but not usually to... such an extent," he told Luxord dryly, beginning to drum his fingers against the table again as he mused on this new revelation

[clockmongler]

And if Luxord had his powers, he would delight in turning the other into a die and punting him off a cliff, so it appeared they were at an impasse in that regard.

He shook his head at that question, however. In between all the 'slag this' and 'SLAG THAT, DISGUSTING HUMANS' and the occasional 'sex auuuuuugh sex', X never bothered paying much attention to their names. "Perhaps you should inquire on the bulletin board? They enjoy spamming the poor thing, so it should not be difficult to find your answers."

His bacon was going to grow cold if he did not eat it, but he could not bother with it at the moment. There was something about the idea of eating in front of others that the blond did not like.

Megs = an air-borne dice // Luxord = more squished than the Wicked Witch of the East. Going well!

[oil_connoisseur]

"Bulletin Board?" Megatron inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Appreciated."

Noting Luxord’s scrutiny with his food, Megatron reluctantly turned back to his own. He was thankfully starting to gain a little more dexterity as he became gradually used to using muscles over hydraulics.

"Even though it is not necessarily within the boundaries of your ‘rules’ from earlier - approximately how long have you been a captive with in this facility?" Megatron quired after a moment, observing Luxord out of the corner of his eye. He offered a condescending smile to the other man. “Of course, you are more than welcome to say 'no