Megatron looked around his quarters and realized that he hadn’t left them in a few days.
::..Not at all. In several months we have not found anything vital based on the sites you pointed out, but the soldiers have located Alpha Trion’s living quarters and an adjoined suite. Give me a few kliks. I have yet to revisit there, myself.::
::Perhaps fresh optics will prove useful.::
Megatron bristles, optics narrowing.
“’The collective wisdom of the Primes’ is a vague statement, and I am not the one who would know, Smokescreen. I did not exactly discuss the experience at length with any Prime.”
No.
The same Airachnid who has poisoned you and tortured you with near-vivisection for a few hours?
And he’s grinning at, “It’s a gift! Since you came all the way to school! If you collect the most out of all the class, you’ll win a prize.”
SUCH suspicious squinting. But he’s not giving it back. The sticker was a gift.
“…What’s the prize?”
This bitlet stares at the sticker. Slowly, his optics meet the older mech’s as he slowly glares. The picture of suspicion.
“…Why are you giving me this?”
It’s not that I can’t think of so many instances when I would have loved to shoot you with my cannon. It’s that even if you’re so certain that it won’t harm you, I won’t risk the high chance that you are wrong.
pumpkin king
That title is already claimed.
::Anons, and it’s a bad thing because it’s a huge waste of- well, everything! And they have the idea Cybertronians need to be constantly getting clean or something.::
An aggravated sigh.
::Then you get a free cleaning out of it.::
::…Bathing you. Who exactly is bathing you and why is this a bad thing.::
Megatron's back up 