AT LONG LAST
WHO: OPEN
WHAT: ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING
WHERE: ANY ZONE
WHEN: Mostly Backdated
WARNINGS/NOTES:There are many scenes Megatron needs to do. Off the top of my head, he needs to have a meeting with Roxanne, Bed-in-Breakfast with Starscream, Kidnapping Nurse Rodimus avec Kittyscream, interviews with Primescream, and more ( Read more... )
WHAT: ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING
WHERE: ANY ZONE
WHEN: Mostly Backdated
WARNINGS/NOTES:There are many scenes Megatron needs to do. Off the top of my head, he needs to have a meeting with Roxanne, Bed-in-Breakfast with Starscream, Kidnapping Nurse Rodimus avec Kittyscream, interviews with Primescream, and more ( Read more... )
Comments 43
Wing was exhausted: his employers--now, really more like owners--were certainly making his change in status clear. He'd never run so many errands in his life. And while he didn't mind the flying, it did take a lot out at the end of the day.
He could have refueled there, but he just wanted to get away for a while, so he was sitting, in the dead of night, in a window booth in one of the few all-night cafes, toying with a cube of energon, simply, for the moment, enjoying letting his engines idle.
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For being a relatively rich mech in a city where others were starving, he insisted on doing his errands himself. There was no one to contest that, particularly, and he'd considered hiring someone to do it just to have another mech at his command...
...but the problem was, he didn't know how to be 'rich.' He didn't know how to run a business. He didn't know how to run an army. In this, he simply pretended like he knew, and charged ahead with the confidence he'd fostered in Kaon, pushing through obstacles with power and planning.
It worked.
It turned out that the mentality you needed to be ruthless and cunning in order to kill someone was the same mentality you needed in order to succeed ( ... )
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Perhaps he should, like Magnum, have some ambition burning through him, but he wasn't. To him, sometimes, simply existing was enough.
"Magnum!" He struggled to his feet, trying to fold his wing panels that had flared in alarm at the sudden rap on the glass. "What brings you here?" In this hour of the night, he almost added.
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"Are you waiting for someone?" He looked toward the door, wondering if he should join Wing inside rather than shouting through the window.
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Surrounded by robots that tower over her like giant, metallic office buildings, she remains coolly unaffected and outwardly unphased as she waits for him.
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Sometimes, he missed Jonathan. The human had been exceptional at keeping things running, and without Jonathan around Megatron was finding out all the little fiddly details that needed to be taken care of. Dylan had been able to pick up on most of the slack, and was fastly approaching Jonathan's efficiency, but it would be a while before they both were settled into the old...grove.
Still, he had a secretary. And that secretary was aware of his appointments, and was aware to leave notes with the bouncers at the back gate...who would approach Roxanne, confirm her identity, and show her in to the Arena backstage.
It was...dark.
It was dark, and filled with towering mechs in shadows who weren't paying much attention to where they were stepping.
"A human could get crushed in here, Miss Roxanne." Said one of the shadows, voice familiar, crouching down to offer her a hand. "Good thing you're not afraid."
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"It's a good thing I'm observant," she told him, eyeing the hand warily before moving to haul herself up.
"Nice to meet you in person."
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It had only reduced accidental deaths-by-stepping by a percentage, of course, but even Megatron hated the feeling of squishy, organic matter gunking up his treads.
Still, this human had come here because she claimed to have some information of importance to him. It was to his interest to protect her, and, pulling her up to optic level, she seemed sincere enough.
He nodded, almost politely. "The pleasure is all mine." And, without further ado, he moved through the back rooms, away from the roar of the crowds, heading for the washracks. "So. I'm guessing you'd like a chance to leave the Nexus before you die waiting for an exit visa?"
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... He just had to see it.
Beside getting a better look at the inner workings of the Hollow might give him a bit of an edge in the long run.
So he landed and waited ... and looked the ever impatient as he did so.
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Megatron laughed, leaning off the wall he'd been waiting near. "And you're alone, enough." He glanced around, not worried, here, outside of his fortress. The secret of the Hollow was not nearly so...secret...as it once had been. However, there was still the three-headed canine that was guarding the maze of underground tunnels, protecting him enough while he was building his Kingdom in Zone Seven.
"I'm sure you do not trust me, entirely, so you will forgive me if I cannot, entirely, trust you..." Gesturing toward the shadows, said Canine ventured forth to sniff at Starscream, searching for hidden trackers or unusual scents. "...but that's the reason for this alliance, isn't it. Sometimes its nice to know you can wake up without a knife in your back."
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An average day, one of many he has come to survive since his unceremonious entry into this world. If he could let himself forget for a moment that he and new and former allies were surrounded by a people who could care less about them and who had the power to rip them from their makeshift homes at any given moment's notice, it felt an awful lot like something he knew eons ago, back before there was war, before there were factions.
After so long, Optimus had forgotten civilian life. He could recall things that were said, sometimes. He knew major events that had taken place. But how it all felt? What it was like to live without considering possibility of attack from this corner or deception from a stranger?
He drove himself back toward Zone 5 that evening after his usual shift, feeling half worked and too full of energy to really return to his apartment.
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Megatron...was walking his dog.
He was aware of leash laws, and he was aware of how ridiculous it was to try to find three leather collars and leash for what amounted to 20 tons of canine. Therefore, he ignored the leash laws. Cerberus needed exercise, and Cerberus was particularly aware of just what lengths Megatron would go to if he managed to escape: It had taken three bounty hunters, last time, to bring him down.
Besides, he liked to play fetch. It had taken Megatron and Barricade some time to train the dog out of playing fetch with humans, but after substantial legal ramifications and having to pay too many hospital bills, it had been necessary ( ... )
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"Your Megatron must have been very focused on you, then." He handed the drink over to his companion, settling in to watch Breakdown debuting the new Arena track. "But really, what is the problem? Its not like I'm asking you to participate. The Arena is...not designed for jets. I'm sure you'd win."
It was flattery, simply. There had been more than plenty of jets in the Arena, and they often had done well, but not always. There wasn't enough class.
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He turned his gaze back to the arena as Megatron spoke, his lip curling with obvious disdain at the sight of the race track bordering its walls.
"This is hardly a place for a business meeting. One would think you were still just an upstart miner, waving your tattered flag around in rebellion," Starscream said with a very distinct smirk. "As for winning- I hardly need to prove my battle prowess anymore."
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"Me? Upstart miner? Are you comparing me to Megatron?" He smirked, echoing what he could only interpret to be coyness. "I may own an Arena, but my interest in it is monetary." Apart from the times he needed to compete, to stretch his servos, to feel the dirt under his pedes and the warmth of spilled energon on his digits. "And I'm the one with a job offer. Unless you're getting better ones?"
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