*After their little excursion, Megatron had contented himself with a good cleaning in his hot tub. He found he rested there a lot lately, with the crap that his mate liked to pull and the nice mess the Warlord and Starscream often created...*
*Still, it was unmistakeable when he felt the tug of the other half to his spark, and his optics dimmed to barely online slits as he waited for his mate to walk further inside. He didn't miss the glint of fresh welding on his now re-attached arm, either. He'd left the bond open, as he'd said he would, but he kept his emotions and thoughts carefully guarded as he felt Optimus lift his half, allowing their energies to mingle, even if they were fuzzy from the lack of a recent bonding*
*He waited until Optimus was only a few feet away - he was unsure of how exactly the Autobot couldn't see or feel his mate so close, but his low booming voice was sure to startle*
Autobot. How nice of you to visit your bondmate.
*His voice may be a little bitter, and only a tad sarcastic*
*Unaware that his mate was nearby, he was not. The tug on his spark told him that the Decepticon was close, but he.. Did he want to hear his voice?
Refocusing his optics on the mech seated in the hot tub, Optimus fought the urge to sigh. He hadn't come here to pick a fight with Megatron, he'd come.. Apparently, he'd come on a fruitless mission to make amends. And Optimus did nothing to hide his intentions, either. Lying wasn't going to get him any further than fighting was.*
*There were still spatters of oil littered over his frame that the hot tub hadn't quite cleaned yet, and a few droplets caked on his faceplates and down his neck as well. His optics brightened some, his gaze flicking up and down his mate critically*
*They'd gone through this endless circle once before already. He was tired of fighting, but his pride wouldn't allow he step down so easily*
Are you expecting some sort of apology from me? You won't get one.
*And for some reason, his desire to fight back just as hard as Megatron fought was gone. He wasn't trying to give as good as he got.*
No. I know I won't get one from you. I am sorry, though. For.. getting myself slagged, putting you at a.. disadvantage like that. And.. generally being a glitching piece of slag.
*It was awkward, really, to say all of this, and what was he doing? Cutting himself down for Megatron's benefit. Glancing to the side of the entrance tunnel, Optimus reached with his arm to rub at his neck cabling.*
There's too much for me to apologize for. And you.. you don't like hearing me talk too much, do you? ..I do talk a lot.
*What was he supposed to be saying, again? He shouldn't leave, should he..?*
*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
( ... )
*That reminds him of his own jetpack, still battle damaged and flightless, resting in his subspace. With that in mind, actually being able to fly was.. unlikely. But then, the flicker of.. invitation across the bond of their sparks...*
You mean you could actually carry me, and not be thrown off balance?
Comments 77
*Still, it was unmistakeable when he felt the tug of the other half to his spark, and his optics dimmed to barely online slits as he waited for his mate to walk further inside. He didn't miss the glint of fresh welding on his now re-attached arm, either. He'd left the bond open, as he'd said he would, but he kept his emotions and thoughts carefully guarded as he felt Optimus lift his half, allowing their energies to mingle, even if they were fuzzy from the lack of a recent bonding*
*He waited until Optimus was only a few feet away - he was unsure of how exactly the Autobot couldn't see or feel his mate so close, but his low booming voice was sure to startle*
Autobot. How nice of you to visit your bondmate.
*His voice may be a little bitter, and only a tad sarcastic*
Reply
*Unaware that his mate was nearby, he was not. The tug on his spark told him that the Decepticon was close, but he.. Did he want to hear his voice?
Refocusing his optics on the mech seated in the hot tub, Optimus fought the urge to sigh. He hadn't come here to pick a fight with Megatron, he'd come.. Apparently, he'd come on a fruitless mission to make amends. And Optimus did nothing to hide his intentions, either. Lying wasn't going to get him any further than fighting was.*
I.. yes.
Reply
*They'd gone through this endless circle once before already. He was tired of fighting, but his pride wouldn't allow he step down so easily*
Are you expecting some sort of apology from me? You won't get one.
Reply
*And for some reason, his desire to fight back just as hard as Megatron fought was gone. He wasn't trying to give as good as he got.*
No. I know I won't get one from you. I am sorry, though. For.. getting myself slagged, putting you at a.. disadvantage like that. And.. generally being a glitching piece of slag.
*It was awkward, really, to say all of this, and what was he doing? Cutting himself down for Megatron's benefit. Glancing to the side of the entrance tunnel, Optimus reached with his arm to rub at his neck cabling.*
There's too much for me to apologize for. And you.. you don't like hearing me talk too much, do you? ..I do talk a lot.
*What was he supposed to be saying, again? He shouldn't leave, should he..?*
Reply
*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 ( ... )
Reply
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
*Small was acceptable enough, and Optimus allowed the memory to close on its own, shivering lightly at the ghost sensations of flying that it left.*
In a way, you're lucky, you know. Being able to fly whenever you want to.
Reply
It is a most efficient ability. And one you are now open to as well. *An invitation? Perhaps*
Reply
*That reminds him of his own jetpack, still battle damaged and flightless, resting in his subspace. With that in mind, actually being able to fly was.. unlikely. But then, the flicker of.. invitation across the bond of their sparks...*
You mean you could actually carry me, and not be thrown off balance?
Reply
*That's not saying that jetpack couldn't be repaired, so his mate didn't have to go through the trouble of carrying him like a taxi*
Reply
Leave a comment