I have not thought of him for some time… the small human with the glasses.
He was stronger than expected, and underestimating his technical skill set the Decepticons back on multiple occasions. Somehow, the young humans proved more formidable than the grown ones.
“Flying! I have wings- carrier used to talk about how I might fly with ‘em someday!” Though since getting his tires, it has been a little while since that conversation’s come up.
Excited thunking against Megatron’s legs now, looking at them in complete amazement, “Wings?! I want leg wings! Can you float?”
Megatron pointedly ignores any and all mention of the temporary sparkling’s creators. No need to put him through unnecessary stress when this spell will wear off soon enough.
“I can, but with my jets, it is easier to go very fast.”
Fine. Let them be crusts. He’s too tired for that. The leg-knocking gets a smirk out of him, however.
“When you’re older, perhaps.” Although, he’s certain Smokscreen’s armor isn’t nearly as thick as his own. If it was, the racer would hardly be able to run, let alone race.
He’s going to keep knocking on Megatron for a while, maybe trying to make a rhythm using Megatron’s leg, even. It’s a good sounding leg!
“Really? Really? I need it when I’m starting flying! It needs to be here soon.” His doorwings are fluttering some- he’s looking forward to trying to fly! “Can you fly? Where’s your wings?”
“Flying, hm?” Perhaps Smokescreen would want to be reformatted one day. One of the few things he’d be able to relate to.
“You’re actually tapping on what becomes my.. “wings”. My leg plating stabilizes my alt-mode in flight.”
This is certainly unexpected. Normally the small Bumblebee that approached him is not his own.
“Yes… I am big. You on the other hand, are very small.”
Something in his spark trembles when the very, very big mech speaks, but Bumblebee doesn’t possess the higher processing functions needed to interpret the feeling properly. Instead, he takes a step back and tilts his helm.
“No, you are too big.” He nods to himself, satisfied. “And pointy.”
This earns a deadpan stare. He’s never been called “too big” before, and the absurdity almost gets a laugh out of him.
“Really, now? Well… I can reach very high things. What can you do?”
How come they’re ridges? Will I get them? Where’s your lights?
Mm. I’m not sure why they’re called that. You have them already, they’re just small- and what lights do you mean?
Really? They’re optic crusts! I don’t! I don’t have any!
/He’s pointing to all his biolights- Megatron doesn’t have many, and it’s weird!/
“Ridges, not crusts.” He’s staring at tiny Smokescreen’s face, at the little optic ridges on his helm… but he’s not up for arguing.
“Ah. I have them too, but they’re covered up by thick armor.” He raps his knuckles against abdominal plating, demonstrating with the sound it makes.
As he can’t see them, they might as well not exist- he’s very confident on this! “How come? They’re crusts!”
And that gets a long look of awe, before the bitlet starts knocking on Megatron’s leg, and then on his own, somewhat softer plating. “Can I sound like you?” He likes Megatron’s armor!
Fine. Let them be crusts. He’s too tired for that. The leg-knocking gets a smirk out of him, however.
“When you’re older, perhaps.” Although, he’s certain Smokscreen’s armor isn’t nearly as thick as his own. If it was, the racer would hardly be able to run, let alone race.
Megatron's back up 