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the-scrappy-stinger:

(He’d finally been caught.)

(That inviting little cave had been a trap. Bee had his meal of fish bits and mollusk guts, but the metal grate latched tight behind him, and it was a long overnight stay before he was pulled in by very disappointed, very confused fishermen. They’d been trying for the massive eels in the area… not for… whatever he was.)

(Confused by his shape and concerned by the gashes he’d put in his arms trying to get out, they kept him in the live well and brought him back to shore. They turned him in to the local sea park, and now he was kept in a windowed tank, on display to the mechs outside while he healed.)

(This toothy one felt familiar, and Bee watched him intently through the glass.)

The new arrival was entirely too young. At least, that was what Megatron had thought when he’d first been brought to the rehabilitation clinic. With a bit of study however, it was discovered that he was a part of a species that normally lived in groups, on the other side of the world from where he’d been found. Even so small, he was fully grown, and reportedly alone. How had he managed to get so lost?

It was long before they opened, but Megatron was already adjusting the informational plaques, looking up to meet the little one. He was being stared at, it would seem. Not uncommon; new arrivals tended to be frightened of him because of his appearance alone. Too shark-like, he imagined. This one however was right up against the glass. With a smirk, he let his claws rest against the tank.

“Curious one, aren’t you? I wonder when your feedings are scheduled…”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

mightymegatron:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

“Plans change, Smokescreen. Now drive!”

He’s almost there, picking up the pace and starting to run. With the marker in sight, Megatron starts testing his t-cog, revving his own flight engines to clear the dust from them…

“Okay, okay! I’m not gonna lose to you, Megs!”

Smokescreen can sense Megatron running, which is enough of a motivator to drive faster. Even if he’s his friend, Megatron running towards him is a terrifying sight!

Spurred on by the chase, Smokescreen’s tires make it past the blast mark just as Megatron’s stride falls even with his back end. With a creaking groan of machinery, he leaps into the air, his long and spired limbs spinning and shifting into place around his form. This jet was even larger and more streamlined than his usual alt-mode, his engines lighting in a mighty shriek a few feet above Smokescreen’s roof.

This frame feels even more alien in this state, the entirely new sensations causing him to falter and dip close enough to the ground to graze the surface of the Sea with a wingtip. Sheer frustration keeps him aloft with a snarl, picking up speed as he evens out.

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

“Plans change, Smokescreen. Now drive!”

He’s almost there, picking up the pace and starting to run. With the marker in sight, Megatron starts testing his t-cog, revving his own flight engines to clear the dust from them…

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

mightymegatron:

ask-smokescreen‌:

mightymegatron‌:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

Megatron folds his arms behind his back as soon as Smokescreen is in sight, and looks out over the flat expanse of metal.

“Miles without obstacles, walls, or even onlookers. This place is covered in the tracks of ancient racers, of merchants, nomads and runaways crossing Cybertron’s surface to find freedom.” He turned back towards the Autobot, expression serious.

“I will not attempt to fly until I see you drive across it.” He pointed out towards the horizon. “I’ve made marks in the ground, a cannonblast half a mile in that direction, and another three more miles out. When I see you pass the first one, I’ll transform and catch up to you, and we’ll race to the second. I want to see if you can outpace these old engines. I really don’t think you can,” he added with a smirk.

“You want to race? Against me? Man, Megs, I didn’t know you liked to lose that much!” But even as Smokescreen said that, he looked a little uneasy at the path set out, unsure if he could even manage a race.

Smokescreen finally transform, after moments of hesitation, but doesn’t start driving yet. He’s revving his engine, but doesn’t seem to be moving at all.

Waiting, Megatron takes a step back to give Smokescreen space to transform. He waits some more… and some more.

“Am I just going to be standing here all night? I had been looking forward to my first flight in months.”

“No, no! I was just… Feeling the road, you know?” Smokescreen starts to move, though his pace is very, very slow, and he stops before he gets to the finish line.

Smokescreen’s trying to increase his pace as fast as he can, revving his engine to encourage himself, but he’s still not as fast as he had been, stopping frequently in frustration

The marker is still another 200ft away. Megatron is glaring now, though not necessarily at Smokescreen. He’s making progress, slow though it may be. At least he’s moving. Still, Megatron begins walking after him.

“If I’m able to pass you on foot before you get there, I’ll win by default. Don’t let me.”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen‌:

mightymegatron‌:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

Megatron folds his arms behind his back as soon as Smokescreen is in sight, and looks out over the flat expanse of metal.

“Miles without obstacles, walls, or even onlookers. This place is covered in the tracks of ancient racers, of merchants, nomads and runaways crossing Cybertron’s surface to find freedom.” He turned back towards the Autobot, expression serious.

“I will not attempt to fly until I see you drive across it.” He pointed out towards the horizon. “I’ve made marks in the ground, a cannonblast half a mile in that direction, and another three more miles out. When I see you pass the first one, I’ll transform and catch up to you, and we’ll race to the second. I want to see if you can outpace these old engines. I really don’t think you can,” he added with a smirk.

“You want to race? Against me? Man, Megs, I didn’t know you liked to lose that much!” But even as Smokescreen said that, he looked a little uneasy at the path set out, unsure if he could even manage a race.

Smokescreen finally transform, after moments of hesitation, but doesn’t start driving yet. He’s revving his engine, but doesn’t seem to be moving at all.

Waiting, Megatron takes a step back to give Smokescreen space to transform. He waits some more… and some more.

“Am I just going to be standing here all night? I had been looking forward to my first flight in months.”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

mightymegatron:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

::Meet me there or don’t. I will be flying.:: Hopefully.

This has gone on long enough. Smokescreen’s problem clearly isn’t only with being in his vehicle mode, not when he can hold a conversation while parked. The speedster never even revs his engine without prompting. It’s not right for a mech so energetic be so still.

Hours later, Megatron had the area scanned for spark signatures before bridging out to the Sea of Rust. Not a soul in sight for miles to see his twisted frame. Singer had told him his frame was technically capable of transforming… and he had to admit, the wind blowing across his sensors even while standing here felt refreshing. Now all that was left… was to make Smokscreen see the same.

::You got it! It’ll be nice to see you flying, at least. How’re you feeling?::

For all his worrying, Smokescreen still shows up, waiting in his root mode, waiting to transform until he is sure Megatron is nearby.

Megatron folds his arms behind his back as soon as Smokescreen is in sight, and looks out over the flat expanse of metal.

“Miles without obstacles, walls, or even onlookers. This place is covered in the tracks of ancient racers, of merchants, nomads and runaways crossing Cybertron’s surface to find freedom.” He turned back towards the Autobot, expression serious.

“I will not attempt to fly until I see you drive across it.” He pointed out towards the horizon. “I’ve made marks in the ground, a cannonblast half a mile in that direction, and another three more miles out. When I see you pass the first one, I’ll transform and catch up to you, and we’ll race to the second. I want to see if you can outpace these old engines. I really don’t think you can,” he added with a smirk.

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

::Meet me there or don’t. I will be flying.:: Hopefully.

This has gone on long enough. Smokescreen’s problem clearly isn’t only with being in his vehicle mode, not when he can hold a conversation while parked. The speedster never even revs his engine without prompting. It’s not right for a mech so energetic be so still.

Hours later, Megatron had the area scanned for spark signatures before bridging out to the Sea of Rust. Not a soul in sight for miles to see his twisted frame. Singer had told him his frame was technically capable of transforming… and he had to admit, the wind blowing across his sensors even while standing here felt refreshing. Now all that was left… was to make Smokscreen see the same.

Rubbing Salt

Megatron found himself unable to sleep despite having filmed something for an upcoming public announcement earlier. He looked over at Soundwave’s form, silent and unmoving as ever. Laserbeak slept docked in his chest, which rose and fell in incredibly minute intervals that may easily be missed if one didn’t stare. Nothing was improving, and if those readings were accurate, Singer was having to give him higher doses of medication. He would have to ask about that.

As it did often now, Megatron’s mind wandered. Perhaps something in his archived files would keep him occupied, some memory that would give insight into a solution here. Instead, a datapacket titled “Personal Guidelines, Subject: Atonement” sat unopened at the forefront of his archives, sent from Soundwave’s alternate. He thought he had deleted it… He may as well listen to what the defector had to say.

Moments later, Megatron was bent over himself, optics wide in agony. He deleted the file, but he’d seen it all, every tortured swing, every cry of despair as Soundwave blamed himself. The warlord was shaking. Immediately, Singer was at his side, concerned with the disturbing spikes in his read-outs, attempting to scan Megatron’s frame. Before he could get very far, the vehicon was lifted by his shoulder, made to stare into searing optics through red battle filters.

“Call in a bridge. There is someone I need to tear apart.”

Within minutes, leaving a poor frightened medic in his wake, Megatron stood in air that would have obliterated him mere months ago. Despite his appearance, there was no trace of Unicron left within him, and therefore nothing for the barrier here to react to.

The inhabitants however were another story.

He had arrived just outside of Dancitron, in full view of twenty or so minibots. The sheer volume of their alert shrieks forced Megatron to dampen his audial receptors, but neither the noise nor the error warnings his frame was giving him dissuaded him from his purpose. He opened up a crackling comm channel, growling across the airwaves.

::You and I have unfinished business to discuss.::

Rung, it’s me…

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

Dark blue optics stared at him and he backed up from the larger mech with a soft growl. The mech was too big and dangerous. The armor spines that layered across his back and arms were flexing with each vent. His helm had a large wound going down the back of it and energy snapped from it.

Megatron was far from scared of Rung’s demeanor, but imagining what could have put him in such a state was the real concern. He looked warily around even as he kept his motions small, but never enough to let the injured mech out of his sight. It hurt to see him in such distress. Keeping one arm outstretched, Megatron lowered himself carefully, down on one knee.

“Easy, Rung… I won’t hurt you.”

One knee, he knew that body language. Tilting his head a bit, he churned quietly and let himself step away from the wall he had backed himself into and began to walk around Megatron. His claws clicked on the floor and his frame poofed outwards, trying to make himself look bigger.

He didn’t move, keeping still as Rung stalked around him. His EM field was laced with concern, but apart from that he maintained his calm.

“I won’t hurt you,” he repeated, unsure the other could even understand him. Closing his optics, Megatron’s shoulders tensed. “Please. I won’t lose you, too. Come closer.”

Rung, it’s me…

willnotgogently:

Dark blue optics stared at him and he backed up from the larger mech with a soft growl. The mech was too big and dangerous. The armor spines that layered across his back and arms were flexing with each vent. His helm had a large wound going down the back of it and energy snapped from it.

Megatron was far from scared of Rung’s demeanor, but imagining what could have put him in such a state was the real concern. He looked warily around even as he kept his motions small, but never enough to let the injured mech out of his sight. It hurt to see him in such distress. Keeping one arm outstretched, Megatron lowered himself carefully, down on one knee.

“Easy, Rung… I won’t hurt you.”