Entertainment Weekly: This doesn’t exactly fit, but I thought a little bit of the Amish. The Jabari have a separate, traditional culture within a modern one. But then, the Jabari don’t lack technology. Winston Duke: Yeah, they’re not against technology. They’re against Vibranium. Their society is based around Jabari wood.
EW: That’s what we see decorating M’Baku’s throne room. WD: Yeah, this is something we didn’t get to interrogate deeply in the film, but everything for them is based around this Jabari wood that comes from this sacred tree. Everything in Jabari land is made out of this sacred wood that can essentially go toe-to-toe with a Vibranium sword or a Vibranium weapon because it’s this tempered, strong, treated wood.
EW: But it has its own mythology… WD: They believe it was given to them by Hanuman, the ape god. Meanwhile, the people of Wakanda will say, “No, it’s actually the Vibranium that’s seeped into the wood. That makes it stronger.” [Laughs] You have this whole divergence of ideas. They’re quite technologically sophisticated but it’s based around wood. Meanwhile, Wakanda proper is technologically advanced based around Vibranium. That’s kind of where they get separated, but it’s still the same house.
EW: What does M’Baku really want, deep down? WD: Where’s Wakanda going? How are they going to do that? T’Chaka (John Kani) is dead. I didn’t like the direction he was taking the country and now his son is going to take the throne, all these people have been asleep letting these people take control of the country for all these years, and we’ve just been watching from the mountains being like, “This isn’t right. My people have to live, they got to survive.” Instead of him just being this ostentatious dude who’s running around in a gorilla fur costume, he’s this guy who has deep attachments and needs. You can understand, “If I was in that position, I think I would have to make a similar choice.”
EW: M’Baku is a showman. WD: He is. He’s proud and he’s big, and he is a showman. It’s the idea that if I’m going to challenge and take over this country, I’m going to do it with honor and I’m going to do it in front of everyone the right way. I’m not going to use some subversive tactic to take over the country the way other people could.
EW:He does this chant, a kind of grunt that silences people. He’s frightening, and then immediately funny. He knows how to weaponize his demeanor. WD: It’s super fun to play, and we created the entire culture. The Jabari, similar to the Dora Milaje, believe in the oneness. When he speaks, he speaks in a “we,” but he doesn’t talk as a royal “we.” When he says “we,” it’s really we, like me and my people. That means a lot to him. When he speaks of the Jabari, he speaks of them as one.
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
“Together, then.” He take the knife and slices off a piece, not wanting to feel the protomesh tear on his digits. There is a sauce accompanying the dish and he coats it before letting it into his intake… It falls apart in his mouth, apart from the crispy flake made by the grill. The sauce is some sort of spicy oil, smooth and soaking into the mesh.
“…I have now eaten another mechanical creature.”
One with an intelligence so basic and unliving, a human could program it. (MUNCH)
(It falls into a shower of flavor in his mouth and gently brushes his tongue with the satisfying warmth of oil.) Mmmmhmm…
(Bee goes for another bite.)
That does make it more palatable. A simple creature with almost no processing power. A Roomba with more legs that happens to taste very good. He’ll have another bite too.
“I never would have considered anything like this. I’m curious as to what oil it’s fried in, or if we could make anything comparable on-world. Colonists might warm up to it more easily than former soldiers, having had more of a chance to see the universe.”
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
On a Cybertronian-friendly bar on Shax’s planet! (Bee takes out each little dish one by one, most of them big enough to fill his arms, and puts them on the desk. The biggest thing, he leaves in the box; some manner of robot insectoid, more lobster than Insecticon, cooked until its protomesh has formed a rich-smelling roast. Side of oil dipping sauce, of course.) They had stuff I couldn’t even think of! Like this thing!
(Bee breaks off a hunk of the bug’s shell to use as a knife and slices off a piece of a meaty loaf-looking dish. He pops it in his mouth without thinking.) I couldn’t e-WOOAAH THAT’S STRONG!
“It’s always enjoyable to find things we can process that aren’t energon.” Although, a part of him isn’t terribly keen on knowing exactly what he’s eating. Especially since at least one of these things seems to have been alive at one point. He’s going to try it regardless.
Curious as to what set Bee off, the strangely organic things is next, steaming hot and soaked in some sort of dark liquid. He takes the rest of the piece Bee cut from. “It’s… smoke. And sodium. I can’t say I’ve ever had anything like it.” He gets himself another piece of it, pointing towards something else that looks suspiciously like meat on a stick. “What is that?”
(Bee hurriedly shifts over to the skewer and tears a primal chunk off with his teeth. He chews in contemplation… and a dreamy smile cracks his face.)
Good! REALLY good! The crust is the only thing holding it together and it’s soft and melty on the inside!
Things are not often layered that aren’t candy in his experience, so he takes a bit with some skepticism… and it’s light and savory instead. He still thinks that it’s likely some kind of creature, but he won’t dwell on it if it’s this delicious.
And if this one is so delicious… “I’m going to do it. Give me the… “knife.”
(Bee peeks between the insectoid and the wall of the box and pulls out the serving knife. It’s plastic and light, but made for Megatron’s hand size. Bee has to pitch it onto his shoulder and lever it upwards for Megatron to grab.)
You’re gonna do it? With the big main dish bug?
(Bee slices himself a big piece with his palm-size bit of shell.) Then I am too!
“Together, then.” He take the knife and slices off a piece, not wanting to feel the protomesh tear on his digits. There is a sauce accompanying the dish and he coats it before letting it into his intake… It falls apart in his mouth, apart from the crispy flake made by the grill. The sauce is some sort of spicy oil, smooth and soaking into the mesh.
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
On a Cybertronian-friendly bar on Shax’s planet! (Bee takes out each little dish one by one, most of them big enough to fill his arms, and puts them on the desk. The biggest thing, he leaves in the box; some manner of robot insectoid, more lobster than Insecticon, cooked until its protomesh has formed a rich-smelling roast. Side of oil dipping sauce, of course.) They had stuff I couldn’t even think of! Like this thing!
(Bee breaks off a hunk of the bug’s shell to use as a knife and slices off a piece of a meaty loaf-looking dish. He pops it in his mouth without thinking.) I couldn’t e-WOOAAH THAT’S STRONG!
“It’s always enjoyable to find things we can process that aren’t energon.” Although, a part of him isn’t terribly keen on knowing exactly what he’s eating. Especially since at least one of these things seems to have been alive at one point. He’s going to try it regardless.
Curious as to what set Bee off, the strangely organic things is next, steaming hot and soaked in some sort of dark liquid. He takes the rest of the piece Bee cut from. “It’s… smoke. And sodium. I can’t say I’ve ever had anything like it.” He gets himself another piece of it, pointing towards something else that looks suspiciously like meat on a stick. “What is that?”
(Bee hurriedly shifts over to the skewer and tears a primal chunk off with his teeth. He chews in contemplation… and a dreamy smile cracks his face.)
Good! REALLY good! The crust is the only thing holding it together and it’s soft and melty on the inside!
Things are not often layered that aren’t candy in his experience, so he takes a bit with some skepticism… and it’s light and savory instead. He still thinks that it’s likely some kind of creature, but he won’t dwell on it if it’s this delicious.
And if this one is so delicious… “I’m going to do it. Give me the… “knife.”
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
On a Cybertronian-friendly bar on Shax’s planet! (Bee takes out each little dish one by one, most of them big enough to fill his arms, and puts them on the desk. The biggest thing, he leaves in the box; some manner of robot insectoid, more lobster than Insecticon, cooked until its protomesh has formed a rich-smelling roast. Side of oil dipping sauce, of course.) They had stuff I couldn’t even think of! Like this thing!
(Bee breaks off a hunk of the bug’s shell to use as a knife and slices off a piece of a meaty loaf-looking dish. He pops it in his mouth without thinking.) I couldn’t e-WOOAAH THAT’S STRONG!
“It’s always enjoyable to find things we can process that aren’t energon.” Although, a part of him isn’t terribly keen on knowing exactly what he’s eating. Especially since at least one of these things seems to have been alive at one point. He’s going to try it regardless.
Curious as to what set Bee off, the strangely organic things is next, steaming hot and soaked in some sort of dark liquid. He takes the rest of the piece Bee cut from. “It’s… smoke. And sodium. I can’t say I’ve ever had anything like it.” He gets himself another piece of it, pointing towards something else that looks suspiciously like meat on a stick. “What is that?”
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
(Bee’s in vehicle mode, and strapped to his hood is a Cybertronian take-out box just a bit bigger than he is, both by width and height. He rolls in very carefully.) I was wondering where that was! Thank you. In the meantime, I found this place did take-out and I brought you a box!
“And I see you’ve taken out your weight in fuel!” He teases, but closes the door and very carefully starts to unstrap the box to let Bee transform. “What manner of food is this? It’s heavy..”
Heavier than the stuff I make, ‘cause I asked for something that’d fit your size class for once!
(The box is hot in his fingers, and steaming through the seams. Bee hops onto the desk and carefully clears a spot for it in front of Megatron’s chair.) The place was a total dive, but the food smelled great! I got you batter fried tubing skewers, something that looked thick and sliced good, stuff on sticks, and something that looks like a thing that WAS alive but got split in half and roasted- there’s a LOT of stuff, okay? And also hot high grade.
That sounds like… No, it couldn’t be. Megatron sets down the box in the cleared space and opens it to a cloud of steam. The food is foreign and strange and none of it is energon but it stirs an old memory in his banks. The smell is amazing.
He plucks out a skewer of something on covered in glistening oil and tries the end, sliding it off the stick. He closes his optics and falls back into his chair. “Fried tubegrass… I’ve only had this at a banquet, eons ago. And it’s the only thing I recognize! Where did you get this?”
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
(Bee’s in vehicle mode, and strapped to his hood is a Cybertronian take-out box just a bit bigger than he is, both by width and height. He rolls in very carefully.) I was wondering where that was! Thank you. In the meantime, I found this place did take-out and I brought you a box!
“And I see you’ve taken out your weight in fuel!” He teases, but closes the door and very carefully starts to unstrap the box to let Bee transform. “What manner of food is this? It’s heavy..”
There is commotion behind the door before Megatron opens it, looking as composed as ever. Nevermind his core temperature. “Ah, hello Bumblebee. You left your pillow here, but I assumed it was intentional.”
There is no way he can properly answer this, he’s smiling too much, bound up in the wonderful words. “I would very much like to kiss you. The sooner the better.”
Given permission, Megatron stood fully again, bringing Rung up with him by supporting his upper back and hips. The cloth long forgotten, it fluttered on the floor as he walked past it with the other in his embrace, enjoying the way Rung’s arms wrapped around his neck. His own field prickled wherever they touched, as if trying to keep them together. In a few short steps, Megatron was able to turn and sit on his berth and lean back against the wall.
Looking up now into Rung’s brilliant optics, the warlord was serious for a moment. “I want to make you forget to be used to being treated poorly. It isn’t something you should be accustomed to, not when you are my equal.“ He was lost again then, taking in the sight of the gentle orange mech so comfortably astride him with a soft grin. “It almost feels like dreaming, though I’m hard-pressed to remember when I’ve had one so pleasant.”
His gaze was soft as he stroked his hand along Megatron’s chassis, his thighs tightening around the bigger mech as much as he could. He wasn’t afraid of being dropped but he did like to feel the shift of sturdy strong metal under him. There was a faint flush to his cheeks and he reached for one of the large hands so he could bring it to his cheek, lean into it and kiss the war stained palm. If Megatron wanted to help him forget that he used to be an object then he’d go along with him.
“If you think that you’re dreaming now, I could perceive that as a challenge you know. Stating that might just make me want to spoil you some more. I should find some nice oils for us to share.”
Perhaps he really was going soft, he certainly felt that way. But strangely, the idea didn’t bother him like it once would have. Was it really a sign of weakness to be moved by a gentle touch and kind words, to extend the same? His servo cupped Rung’s warm cheek, fascinated by its glow. His own couldn’t do that, though his half-lidded optics were brighter than usual, betraying the buzz of building charge in his lines.
“Spoiled? No- I would be blessed by anything you were inclined to share…” Sitting up a bit, Megatron leaned forward just enough for another kiss; he was growing rather fond of those.
Ah, his favorite drink. He takes a deep vent in with a smile, taking in the bitter aroma before taking it off Bee’s hands. “The company, as always, is appreciated.” He drinks, sighing contentedly as it slides down into his tank.
It’ll be quiet, though. (He’s already hunkering down and making himself comfortable for a night spent close to him.)
Thanks for having me over.
He smirks, gently rubbing Bee’s back with a claw while he gets settled.
Megatron's back up 