*There was a time where every Cybertronian, human, and any sentient being was tried and pushed beyond their limits. And those limits never lasted long. Before finding the All Spark and arriving on Earth, Optimus would have thought losing Elita-One and Sentinel and his place in the Elite Guard was his test. After fighting with Megatron aboard the ship, that was his test. Then, it was fighting Starscream in the middle of Detroit, learning how to exist on Earth, dealing with a number of Decepticon attacks, protecting Cybertron from an invasion, and then taking on Megatron and his three Omega Supreme clones with his team.
If anyone else could have done it like he had, he would respect them. Immensely. Taking on a troupe of Decepticon warriors with four not-warriors and a small techno-organic on a backwater planet in the middle of an empty sector of the universe.. well. It hadn't been easy
( ... )
*The Decepticon Warlord rumbled softly at the brush to his Decepticon sigil. He'd branded himself all those stellar cycles ago, and although tattered and marred from endless war, the raised ridges where his own armor had melted and shifted to suit the brand were still there, and would remain so until he offlined - either from age or battle was yet to be determined. Optics dimming, his gaze fell to the soft touch, his vents hissing air in a tired sigh.*
Fighting is what I do best, Autobot. It is all I've known, or cared to know, for most of my existence.
*His optics flared at the admission, and he growled. He looked away, lips twisting in a frown, but he did not pull away*
So you are capable of deception. *He snorts, allowing a tight-lipped smirk* Saves me the trouble of beating my namesake into the dirt.
Deception comes from certain influences, but yes, I am capable of it. I didn't even know you had a counterpart here. I must be better than I though.
*Despite all of Megatron's growling and frowning and stirring up a mess, Optimus' fingers traced along the clean lines and sharp corners of the brand. Definitely "old school"; he could feel where the natural plating created ridges in an attempt to repair it. It was a scar. Optimus' own "brand" had a texture to it as well, and though it did hurt, he doubted it could compare to this.*
We do fight. More than we talk. You're not falling behind on your quota.
I apparently have quite a few that share my name, though only two others are present here.
*His brand had long since 'healed' as much as it ever would, and the sigil itself was more or less numb to feeling or touch. The sensors beneath had been scorched - it was a painful process, and even more so when applied by your own servos*
*He hummed, watching his mate closely. His spark was swelled to the very edges of its chamber, eager for a merge despite how much he tried to quell the feeling*
Indeed.
*His own hand raised, tracing the Autobot sigil adorning Optimus' left shoulder. It was not nearly as deeply ingrained. It was rather fresh compared to his own*
I recall that fool Ultra Magnus when he was young and naïve. Compassionate. The Elite Guard was already twisted beyond repair by the time he was promoted to Prime. Now he is as twisted as the rest, and his old age has only made him that much more jaded. Heh. You are still young, yet you hold a level of maturity.*He tapped the 'forehead' of the Autobot sigil, recalling
( ... )
*Megatron had delved back into memories, but Optimus was less concerned with all of that. Beneath his fingers, the other half of his spark was calling, and the half within his chest was seriously blocking off higher processor functions.
As the Decepticon spoke, Optimus only half listened, his fingers following the center angle down to its tip.*
You're one to call a mech jaded.
*It was a statement, an observation, and far from the defense his Autobot programming demanded. No, Magnus or not, that mech had no purpose being brought up. Slipping his fingers over the edge of Megatron's chestplating, Optimus tugged at him. Though it wouldn't likely pull Megatron far, it tugged Optimus closer.*
*His spark responded with a strong, eager pulse, and he smirked, allowing himself to be tugged closer, if only slightly. It was curious how quickly their moods changed simply because of the call of their sparks*
There are more adequate places for this, you know.
*That made him laugh, his optics brightening with amusement. He offered his hand, like a gentlemech that hadn't just been fighting with the mech before him not ten minutes ago*
*Nodding, Optimus took the offered hand. Even if it was a terribly domestic gesture, and it seemed out of place with their earlier fighting.. It didn't irritate him - if anything, it soothed earlier irritation. For the moment, anyway.*
*His hand was easily twice the size of his mate's, charcoal grey engulfing bright blue, and he led him back to his personal quarters. Their sparks were almost uncontrollable already, and they weren't even chest to chest yet. He growled low in his throat, pulling Optimus close before actually reaching the berth if just sigh in relief from the closeness, but his spark was incorrigible*
*Apparently, a week without anything passing over the bond had to be the limit. Even through the layers of armor between the sparks, it was hard to move away. But with a bit of determination, Optimus did manage to push himself away from Megatron, and keep the Decepticon's hands off of him. Long enough to get himself up on that fragging high berth, anyway. Impossible to do that without displaying his aft, either.*
*Megatron's engine was rumbling constantly now, his optics narrowed as he almost stalked forward, his prey willing and ready. His spark pulsed hot and needy, and he came up behind his mate, physically grinding him into the berth like a wanton animal despite the layers of armor still between them. He keened softly, his spark desperate for its other half*
*The pressure inside his chest was forcing an override to unlock the plating dividing it from its mate. Adding the friction of Megatron's frame grinding into his own, and the vibrations of two very worked up engines, he didn't have a chance. Against his bidding, catches and latches unclicked and Optimus echoed Megatron's keen - though he was considerably louder as his chestplating shifted aside, followed closely by his spark casing.
There was no fear, when the spark was displayed to its other half.*
(OOC: AND THEN THEY DID IT, because we are lazeh and don't feel like putting it in the other comm. :D Fast forward to after-merging snuggles.)
*Collapsing with an exhausted and sated whuffle from his vents, Megatron's higher functions were entirely shorted out. Their merge had been hot and hard and rough, and now both of their sparks were considerably sated, the bond re-opened and strong as ever.*
*A soft sound escaped him, and he unconsciously pulled his mate closer, both of them on their sides in the nanite foam*
*Forget higher processor functions. Everything took a backseat their connected sparks. Though it wasn't practical, and they couldn't recharge like that, but it was just.. more than something. Past the overload, their sparks were just.. reviewing. What had happened in the week they'd be separated, and if Optimus had had those higher functions, well, he might have been embarrassed.
As it was, being this close, having their plating touch and their sparks together - nothing else mattered, even as various memories and emotions were flipped through.*
*Megatron's optics flickered online dimly, his systems rebooting one by one. Memories of the Elite Guard, a yellow femme being swallowed by fire and energon explosions, Sari pressed tight to his plating while she cried, Optimus' entire crew and flash memories from specific events... all seen in a few nanokliks. He groaned softly, vaguely feeling his mate nestle closer to his chestplating and neck*
*There was a time where every Cybertronian, human, and any sentient being was tried and pushed beyond their limits. And those limits never lasted long. Before finding the All Spark and arriving on Earth, Optimus would have thought losing Elita-One and Sentinel and his place in the Elite Guard was his test. After fighting with Megatron aboard the ship, that was his test. Then, it was fighting Starscream in the middle of Detroit, learning how to exist on Earth, dealing with a number of Decepticon attacks, protecting Cybertron from an invasion, and then taking on Megatron and his three Omega Supreme clones with his team.
If anyone else could have done it like he had, he would respect them. Immensely. Taking on a troupe of Decepticon warriors with four not-warriors and a small techno-organic on a backwater planet in the middle of an empty sector of the universe.. well. It hadn't been easy ( ... )
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Fighting is what I do best, Autobot. It is all I've known, or cared to know, for most of my existence.
*His optics flared at the admission, and he growled. He looked away, lips twisting in a frown, but he did not pull away*
So you are capable of deception. *He snorts, allowing a tight-lipped smirk* Saves me the trouble of beating my namesake into the dirt.
Reply
Deception comes from certain influences, but yes, I am capable of it. I didn't even know you had a counterpart here. I must be better than I though.
*Despite all of Megatron's growling and frowning and stirring up a mess, Optimus' fingers traced along the clean lines and sharp corners of the brand. Definitely "old school"; he could feel where the natural plating created ridges in an attempt to repair it. It was a scar. Optimus' own "brand" had a texture to it as well, and though it did hurt, he doubted it could compare to this.*
We do fight. More than we talk. You're not falling behind on your quota.
Reply
*His brand had long since 'healed' as much as it ever would, and the sigil itself was more or less numb to feeling or touch. The sensors beneath had been scorched - it was a painful process, and even more so when applied by your own servos*
*He hummed, watching his mate closely. His spark was swelled to the very edges of its chamber, eager for a merge despite how much he tried to quell the feeling*
Indeed.
*His own hand raised, tracing the Autobot sigil adorning Optimus' left shoulder. It was not nearly as deeply ingrained. It was rather fresh compared to his own*
I recall that fool Ultra Magnus when he was young and naïve. Compassionate. The Elite Guard was already twisted beyond repair by the time he was promoted to Prime. Now he is as twisted as the rest, and his old age has only made him that much more jaded. Heh. You are still young, yet you hold a level of maturity.*He tapped the 'forehead' of the Autobot sigil, recalling ( ... )
Reply
*Megatron had delved back into memories, but Optimus was less concerned with all of that. Beneath his fingers, the other half of his spark was calling, and the half within his chest was seriously blocking off higher processor functions.
As the Decepticon spoke, Optimus only half listened, his fingers following the center angle down to its tip.*
You're one to call a mech jaded.
*It was a statement, an observation, and far from the defense his Autobot programming demanded. No, Magnus or not, that mech had no purpose being brought up. Slipping his fingers over the edge of Megatron's chestplating, Optimus tugged at him. Though it wouldn't likely pull Megatron far, it tugged Optimus closer.*
Now mute it. I want to merge.
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There are more adequate places for this, you know.
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Fine. You lead.
*Because, by now, he was entirely too hazy to think properly. And finding his way around in this place wasn't going to be easy.*
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*Nodding, Optimus took the offered hand. Even if it was a terribly domestic gesture, and it seemed out of place with their earlier fighting.. It didn't irritate him - if anything, it soothed earlier irritation. For the moment, anyway.*
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Berth. Now.
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You'll need to let me go for that.
*Apparently, a week without anything passing over the bond had to be the limit. Even through the layers of armor between the sparks, it was hard to move away. But with a bit of determination, Optimus did manage to push himself away from Megatron, and keep the Decepticon's hands off of him. Long enough to get himself up on that fragging high berth, anyway. Impossible to do that without displaying his aft, either.*
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*The pressure inside his chest was forcing an override to unlock the plating dividing it from its mate. Adding the friction of Megatron's frame grinding into his own, and the vibrations of two very worked up engines, he didn't have a chance. Against his bidding, catches and latches unclicked and Optimus echoed Megatron's keen - though he was considerably louder as his chestplating shifted aside, followed closely by his spark casing.
There was no fear, when the spark was displayed to its other half.*
Reply
*Collapsing with an exhausted and sated whuffle from his vents, Megatron's higher functions were entirely shorted out. Their merge had been hot and hard and rough, and now both of their sparks were considerably sated, the bond re-opened and strong as ever.*
*A soft sound escaped him, and he unconsciously pulled his mate closer, both of them on their sides in the nanite foam*
Reply
*Forget higher processor functions. Everything took a backseat their connected sparks. Though it wasn't practical, and they couldn't recharge like that, but it was just.. more than something. Past the overload, their sparks were just.. reviewing. What had happened in the week they'd be separated, and if Optimus had had those higher functions, well, he might have been embarrassed.
As it was, being this close, having their plating touch and their sparks together - nothing else mattered, even as various memories and emotions were flipped through.*
Reply
*Megatron's optics flickered online dimly, his systems rebooting one by one. Memories of the Elite Guard, a yellow femme being swallowed by fire and energon explosions, Sari pressed tight to his plating while she cried, Optimus' entire crew and flash memories from specific events... all seen in a few nanokliks. He groaned softly, vaguely feeling his mate nestle closer to his chestplating and neck*
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