«Holy shit, is that actually you? Please tell me it’s you.»
::Fitting, isn’t it?:: It’s difficult for him to tell if he’s being sarcastic.
::I fell prey to dark magic that separated my spark from my frame. Without anyone to fight against it, the dark energon in my systems took hold, and Unicron molded my body to his will.::
He turns his servo over, sneering at the claws in disgust. He’s made up his mind that these will be the first things to be repaired.
::Were it not for my…:: Half dear friends, half desperate enemies. ::-allies, he may have prevailed.::
She hums, surprised her question yielded that much success and at a loss for words. Megatron made it all sound so simple, like the whole thing was just an accident he got caught up in. Nevermind that a long lost and forgotten god took possession of his body and threatened her (and presumably anyone else who tried to get in contact with Megatron), it was only an unfortunate accident. Things were fixed now; Megatron was back in his own body, Unicron was no longer in control, and all was well again.
So simple it made her slightly uncomfortable.
«Where’s Unicron now then? Is he still out there?» A slight pause.
«Is he coming for Cybertron?»
If it sounds like he’s glossing it over, he is. What happened was a huge debacle, entirely his fault and could have not only destroyed him but his planet and the universe… and he isn’t much in the mood to be scolded for it a second time.
::Unicron’s essence has been contained here, in a reliquary that was made to seal away the power of the Allspark.:: And he left it with two of the most anti-Unicron mechs he could think of.
::All traces of dark energon vanished. My stores, what had been implanted in Cybertron, what had been within me.::
::…Unicron was very real, but now he is gone. Cybertron is safer than it’s ever been.:: No thanks to him.
::I must admit, you do have perfect timing, Riou.::
I know. Didn’t even realize anything was going on.
So. What was it like? Or were you even aware?
::Yes, you managed to just miss the chance to kill me this time.:: He knows it’s unfair to say. He doesn’t know why Riou makes him so thorny. Perhaps it’s being in the other’s debt. Perhaps it’s because after all this time he still reminds him of Optimus, or perhaps simply because he was right.
::My spark was elsewhere, unfortunately. I was completely unaware of what he did until it was already over. Now, he is gone.::
Megatron couldn’t see the frown that slowly formed on the boy’s brow. Not a particularly heavy frown. More like a tired one. “I suppose it’s a good thing he’s gone. And no, I won’t taunt you over the fact it happened, or the circumstances that lead to you falling into this predicament.”
A pause.
“Do you want to keep doing this? Do you want me to gloat over how I had you in a state of vulnerability the likes of which you’d swore never to allow yourself to be inflicted with again? Do you want to keep jabbing me about the fact I didn’t have the nerve or stones to kill you when a opportunity no-one else could’ve ever been so lucky to have was presented to me?”
“Do we have to keep fighting?”
Riou’s reply is not one he was expecting… and honestly, it’s a relief to hear. So much has transpired in this short time. It was a good question. Why was he bothering to perpetuate this cycle? Out of habit? The fires of his contempt had all but burned out when he had burnt up, and continuing to push people away had lead to… everything that had gone wrong in the first place. He’s too tired to forge that again.
The human had a point. An irritating one, but nonetheless a true one.
::I would rather not. I am still… coming to terms with that, I suppose.::
::I must admit, you do have perfect timing, Riou.::
I know. Didn’t even realize anything was going on.
So. What was it like? Or were you even aware?
::Yes, you managed to just miss the chance to kill me this time.:: He knows it’s unfair to say. He doesn’t know why Riou makes him so thorny. Perhaps it’s being in the other’s debt. Perhaps it’s because after all this time he still reminds him of Optimus, or perhaps simply because he was right.
::My spark was elsewhere, unfortunately. I was completely unaware of what he did until it was already over. Now, he is gone.::
«Holy shit, is that actually you? Please tell me it’s you.»
«Yes, I did.»
She pauses for a short moment, then quietly remarks,
«And you weren’t just acting weird, were you? That.. He was real.»
::All too real, I assure you.:: Megatron sighs heavily on his end, and decides to dust off a never-used function on his private datapad- the “selfie” cam.
::He is gone now, but he has left his mark.::
Were the subject matter less gravely serious Blackguard would have been absolutely giddy over the fact she somehow managed to get Megatron to take a selfie and send it to her. She might have even saved the photo, for safekeeping and light blackmail, and put it on her wall of collected photos. Such things could only happen though if Megatron didn’t look like the World Eater recreated in a new form, as he did right now.
She quickly closes out the message on her datapad and leaves the messaging application, putting as much digital and physical space as she could between herself and the photo. The less it could stare at her with those cursed optics the better.
«You look…»
Awful. Dead. Terrible. Rusted.
«…You look just like him. Or, at least like pictures of him. I’ve never seen Unicron so I don’t really know what he looks like, but…» Frowning, Blackguard drums her digits against the desk as she thinks. There was a story behind this disfigurement, one she was eager to know, but asking about it without offending was going to be tricky.
Perhaps it was best to keep things simple.
«What happened?»
::Fitting, isn’t it?:: It’s difficult for him to tell if he’s being sarcastic.
::I fell prey to dark magic that separated my spark from my frame. Without anyone to fight against it, the dark energon in my systems took hold, and Unicron molded my body to his will.::
He turns his servo over, sneering at the claws in disgust. He’s made up his mind that these will be the first things to be repaired.
::Were it not for my…:: Half dear friends, half desperate enemies. ::-allies, he may have prevailed.::
«Holy shit, is that actually you? Please tell me it’s you.»
::Ah… So you spoke with him too, then.::
«Yes, I did.»
She pauses for a short moment, then quietly remarks,
«And you weren’t just acting weird, were you? That.. He was real.»
::All too real, I assure you.:: Megatron sighs heavily on his end, and decides to dust off a never-used function on his private datapad- the “selfie” cam.
“Comics?” Megatron is sitting down again but he motions for Smokescreen to stop for a moment, gesturing over to Soundwave. He’s a dull version of his usual navy away, chest plating rising and falling to aid in ventilation. Laserbeak isn’t docked, but is perched atop his chest, flaring his wings in aggression.
“Careful, it’s the first time he’s been allowed in here since the transplant. He’s feeling rather protective.”
“Comics! I’ve got all the classics- I can pick a story for you, if you want! And I got some documents when you’re up for it so you can keep up to date on Cybertron, when you’re ready to do Lord High Protector-y things again.”
Smokescreen’s waving at Laserbeak, making a point of staying close to Megatron, though he’s taking a look at Soundwave- he’s ventilating, at least, which is a good start!
“Can’t say I blame him. But he knows he can shoot me down if I get too close, right? It’ll be fine!”
The documents pique his interest, he’s been gone for quite some time… it feels shameful to have to hide here while he looks like Unicron’s spawn. He won’t be able to keep it up much longer.
Laserbeak snaps the ends of his data cables at Smokescreen, be he finds the deal acceptable. He relaxes, nestling into Soundwave’s chest with his wings resting flat over him like a tiny metal blanket.
Megatron is standing again, at Soundwave’s berth. He’s grinning broadly, and the other is still unconscious but looking very much not-dead.
“Bumblebee. Things are… so much better.”
(This might be funny. He calls out to Singer.)
Would you prefer that we sit?
The vehicon jumps, not expecting to be addressed. He stares at Bee before finding his own feet, and forgotten professional confidence. “Y-yes! Lord Megatron has been standing and trying to walk the entire afternoon, he has to rest- you have to rest or you’ll overtax yourself. Soundwave isn’t going to get better any faster just because you’re standing there-!” He remembered who he was talking to and froze.
Megatron chuckled, shaking his helm. “At ease, I’ll sit down. Hold on, my friend.” Sitting took a moment, but soon enough he was back on the edge of his own berth, joints creaking as they relaxed. Now it was Singer’s turn to sigh in relief.
You’re like a drawbridge…
(Bee surveys the situation.) I should find you a back support pillow. I worry you’re gonna put a butt groove in your bed.
“A drawbridge?” Megatron leans back slightly, propping himself on an arm.
“…That may be for the best. I’ve attempted using an actual chair and I’m going to break it if I attempt again.”
(already drawing up some plans) I bet it’d support you if it was stuffed with sawdust…
(sketch sketch sketch) and I’ve gotta make it big so it’s nice and oversized when you’re back down to small… -ish. -er.
Megatron turns his helm to look at the relatively tiny drawing, but his optics won’t focus this close to his face. It would be nice to be able to sit up and be supported, however. Medical berths were not necessarily designed with comfort in mind, no matter the size.
“I have faith in your skill, though I have one request. Make another for yourself, to scale of course.”
Megatron is standing again, at Soundwave’s berth. He’s grinning broadly, and the other is still unconscious but looking very much not-dead.
“Bumblebee. Things are… so much better.”
(This might be funny. He calls out to Singer.)
Would you prefer that we sit?
The vehicon jumps, not expecting to be addressed. He stares at Bee before finding his own feet, and forgotten professional confidence. “Y-yes! Lord Megatron has been standing and trying to walk the entire afternoon, he has to rest- you have to rest or you’ll overtax yourself. Soundwave isn’t going to get better any faster just because you’re standing there-!” He remembered who he was talking to and froze.
Megatron chuckled, shaking his helm. “At ease, I’ll sit down. Hold on, my friend.” Sitting took a moment, but soon enough he was back on the edge of his own berth, joints creaking as they relaxed. Now it was Singer’s turn to sigh in relief.
You’re like a drawbridge…
(Bee surveys the situation.) I should find you a back support pillow. I worry you’re gonna put a butt groove in your bed.
“A drawbridge?” Megatron leans back slightly, propping himself on an arm.
“…That may be for the best. I’ve attempted using an actual chair and I’m going to break it if I attempt again.”
Megatron's back up 