Megatron has brought over some of his sweeter spoils from his time away. He supposed they’re enough like candy to pass for Halloween treats. “Bumblebee? I’ve brought us a drink.”

the-scrappy-stinger:

(The Bumblebee that answers the door is lively and smirking devilishly… compared to the tired, shrinking Bumblebee that’s at his back.) “HEY LOOK, it’s Megatron here for pity hangouts! Guess Rung wasn’t available today, huh?”

(Bee looks ashamed, and the devilish Bumblebee shoves him back in the house and leaves the door open.) “Come in, come in! He can prattle on about his pets for a couple hours until you get bored and go home!”

Megatron looks at the loud, cruel Bumblebee and then at the one sinking into himself behind him. That one’s his.

Without so much as a change in expression, the warlord lifts his pede to slam it down on the rude imposter. “I thought we’d destroyed that carnival. Did I miss its source?”

[Pingity Ping Ping, Pa-Ping, Ping, Ping]

heligooddeals:

mightymegatron:

The pings wake Megatron, but seeing who they’re from he forgets to be irritated, answering the urgent message.

::Blackguard, what’s happened?::

He knew the sounds of a bridge opening, but the familiar energized whirring did not register to his processors until the over sized chair slowly came to a stop, facing him crookedly at the unexpected, armed guest. Quickshaft stilled completely then and looked over the other mech, taking in his grotesque image and trying his best to ignore the overwhelming sense of doom that radiated from the Lord’s cannon.

It was quite clear to him then that he had royally screwed up, that this was one curious comm call he would end up regretting for the rest of his limited lifespan. He couldn’t find it within himself to panic though. He was scared, there was no questioning that. Any being would if they had to stare down into the barrel of a cannon that was winding up a kill shot directly aimed at them, but fear was doing nothing for him. Nothing. No spring into action, no cries or pleas for mercy. He just sat there, staring, looking between the barrel and the optics of the mech who threatened him, wondering if the Lord’s half cocked plan would even work. And that wasn’t even factoring in whether or not Quickshaft wanted to die at this moment – which, coincidentally, he did not.

Time to bargain then, since Lord Megatron already got the drop on him and springing into femme fury was out of the question.

“…Ya know,” he grins, “You’re pretty handsome. A lil rough around the edges, but handsome. I could dig it.”

It takes Megatron a few moments to even process what just happened. It’s not that he’s unfamiliar with this particular tactic, it’s that he hasn’t encountered it in ages, not since Swind- Oh.

A lot more about Blackguard suddenly made sense.

Consequently, the tactic works for a moment. Megatron’s cannon drops a fraction, no longer aimed at the mini’s head. His optics squint in outright confusion as he tries to piece together how to respond. After a solid minute of staring, he finally lands on: “…I really would have picked better last words.”

[Pingity Ping Ping, Pa-Ping, Ping, Ping]

heligooddeals:

mightymegatron:

mightymegatron:

The pings wake Megatron, but seeing who they’re from he forgets to be irritated, answering the urgent message.

::Blackguard, what’s happened?::

If Quickshaft had come back from the dead and returned to Blackguard’s side, that would be one thing. But instead, he had taken the place of someone who Megatron knew and respected. To treat such an event with the casual attitude this mech presented rubbed him in all the wrong directions.

Once he hears of the Golden Age though, his curiosity returns. Blackguard lost this mech long ago… Such would explain why she didn’t seem like a mech in mourning for her lost love, and why Quickshaft didn’t understand who he was speaking to. Megatron decided he could forgive that, at least.

::By my count, it’s been nearly five million years for you. It’s a wonder you’re remaining so… calm about the current state of things.:: Keep him on the line. If he was using Blackguard’s comm he was in her office, and as soon as the tests cleared him, that’s where he was headed.

[: Huh. :] Was all he had to offer in reply, falling into a long and heavy silence. Five million years was… a lot. Plenty of time for cultures, laws, governments, and mecha to change, leaving him outdated and out of place. Which was to be expected, he was dead and life goes on, but it was still jarring to hear.

Five million years, and he only had – at best – fragmented memories of what went on while he haunted around Redstrike. He felt utterly lost in the universe and wondered if it had made the right call in bringing him back for awhile.

[: I don’t really do panic and all that. :] He shrugs, pushing his pede off the desk and spinning himself around in Blackguard’s chair, unaware of how fast approaching doom was. In his mind he was completely safe; The universe made its swap and wouldn’t kill him off until the right moment. [: Things were bound to happen and stuff, ya know? Why freak out about all that?

[: So who you are anyway? :] When the chair starts to slow, Quickshaft kicks himself off for another spin. [: And how do you know my lovely helicopter? :]

::I can appreciate such flexibility.:: The mech was going to have it tested in a few moments. Singer’s readings finished compiling, showing Megatron’s spark as self-sustaining and stable enough to pass through an energy field. He unhooked himself from the monitors and summoned a space bridge.

The warlord steps into Blackguard’s office just as Quickshift spins himself back around to face the front. The helicopter was large, so Megatron could stand his near 50 feet in here without ducking his horned helm.

“I am Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons and High Protector of Cybertron. Blackguard is the guardian of a youngling I’ve sworn to protect, and a friend, besides. Regrettably for you, I’ll be needing her back.”

Megatron’s cannon whirred to life, and aimed squarely at the much smaller mech in her chair.

thesoundlessvoid:

@mightymegatron

Megatron steps through the ground bridge first, waiting for the medic to follow before ordering it closed. The makeshift lair feels more like an Earth animal’s den than a base, carved into the very rock. Even so, it is both foreign and familiar, the smokey fire at its center reminiscent of those in the mines miles below Kaon’s surface. It’s almost enough to make him nostalgic, before he sees the damage Grindor has done to his lost soldier. To finally get him back after so long only to have him nearly taken by one of Unicron’s heralds… They are no longer at war, but he resolves to make Grindor answer for his crimes, one way or another.

The medic fidgeted at his side, clutching a medkit but waiting for permission to start working. Megatron pulled a piece of glass with metal edges out from behind his back, offering it to the tyton with his customary glare. “…Singer will get this reattached momentarily, but your senses are more vital. Are you able to see? Hear?”

It’s dark in his den, at least in the side room where Megatron and his medic would have first arrived in. There is no reason to have it lit; all that is present is a cobbled-together ground (or perhaps space) bridge and several of Blackout’s varying tools he has either stolen or collected over the years. Being underground one might expect the atmosphere to be cool, maybe even cold, but it isn’t.

The broken tyton is on the other side of the large circular cavern, prone on a heap of bedding, pillows, and other soft sundries. In the center of the room a fire roars, embers glowing nearly white-hot in the coal bed as the smoke disappears into a vent in the ceiling.

Blackout manages to sit up, forcing his bulk upright enough to get to one knee as a show of loyalty and respect to his leader. “Sir,” he rumbles, looking up at him and at the drone. “I, uh… I think you said something but I couldn’t hear it and I didn’t manage to read your lip-plates.” Blackout looks at the drone. “Whatchu lookin’ so nervous fer? Loosen up. You two hungry?”

The anxious-looking medic does not in fact loosen up upon being told to, having never had to treat a patient so big, let alone while his Lord was watching. He clenches his kit tighter. Megatron kneels too, though it’s to ease Blackout off of his own knee until they’re both seated, facing each other. This time, he waits until the tyton is watching him to speak, holding his gaze while handing the cockpit glass to Singer. At least his optics, though different colors, seemed to be functional.

“Please, there’s no need to further injure yourself just to be formal. Is your hearing worse since the attack, or is this your former condition?” If it was new, perhaps something could be done to restore what was left. If not, perhaps some sort of amplifier, though he was not the medic. He waves the vehicon over to take a look, and he obediently begins scanning the much larger frame.

“Either way, I’ve brought some nourishment of my own to share after he’s finished,” he adds with a smirk.

⚡️

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

Rung tensed as he heard the bang of boards against the side of the building, light illuminating everything before a loud snap resounded and all the power was cut off, leaving him with just biolights. His hands shook as he moved slowly to a cabinet, looking for something more to give him light.

“We should visit an organic world, like Earth sometime. Being in the rain is more pleasant when it isn’t melting through your plating.”

Ah, Sentinel. He really was a horrible product of the old regime in any universe, wasn’t he? At least Megatron knew for a fact that his was dead. After all, he’d been the one to relieve him of his helm… and of something else. Covering the reaching servo with his own, the warlord held it to his cheek, before turning his helm just enough to be able to kiss Rung’s palm.

“It may entertain you to learn this, then. Certain relics from the past could only be used by those who had held the Matrix. I needed a way to use them for myself… so I found Sentinel’s grave and his arm, for a time, became my own.” Megatron smiled just enough that his dental plates glinted in the dim light.

“He always saw people as tools. I thought it rather fitting to reduce him to one in the end.”

“I don’t find it entertaining, but I can’t say that he didn’t deserve it.” Rung pressed his helm to Megatron’s chassis.

Did he ever really forgive Sentinel? He wasn’t entirely certain, but it felt like a moot point since that horrible bot wasn’t around anymore. He couldn’t torment anyone now and that’s what was truly important.

“I just don’t understand how the Matrix could ever accept him. It was never meant for bots who could do the things that he did.” Rung spoke softly, shivering as he saw a flash of lightening from the corner of his optic. “Things got so twisted and it… it hurts to see what happened to it. What happened because of it.”

Megatron instinctively held Rung closer, optics narrowing as he scowled in the lamplight. “I never could understand it, myself. I used to justify it by thinking it was just an ancient power source, that it was the council who decided who would carry it next. …That would have made things so much simpler.” He tucked the smaller mech up under his chin, partly to further protect him from the storm and partly to hide his distant expression.

You’ve never been unworthy, Megatron. Not now and not ever…

“…I don’t know what to think anymore.”

ask-smokescreen:

Despite the agitated Megatron, Smokescreen’s keeping a grin, though his doorwings did droop some. “This sure doesn’t look completely wiped to me, Megs. I don’t think me being here restored data, either… You think Alpha Trion would’ve tried that?” Smokescreen’s staring at his own insignia now. Maybe he should really get himself checked out, in case Alpha Trion did do anything else besides put the Omega Key in him.

It could take a little while for the download to finish, since he’s downloading everything that Megatron took a look at in the past few minutes, but it should manage in no time. Plus, having the historical texts could be helpful for getting things back up and running! Plus, with those coordinates, they probably lead somewhere helpful- maybe more stuff to get everything back up and running! That’s probably what Megatron’s trying to find, he reasons.

Smokescreen’s nodding along, before he processes what Megatron says, and is staring at Megatron here.

“Wait, we’re what now?” Smokescreen’s turning to look at Megatron, doorwings perking up, “We are?! I’m coming along too, right? In case there’s anything else like this out there?” He’s gesturing at the terminal again

This time he does roll his optics. He hadn’t meant right this minute, or even that he would be the one leaving the planet… though it would make for an interesting trip.

“We will send scouts, first. If they are able to detect or locate any anomalies, we can use the space bridge to send extraction teams. These relics may have been buried in asteroids upon impact, or sent into volatile regions to dissuade others from discovering them.”

That wasn’t a no, not just yet. If he were being honest, the idea of flying off into space and returning with the Allspark sounded like a perfect juxtaposition to doing the same with a giant crystal of Dark Energon. He wants to go too, and understands Smoksescreen’s enthusiasm.

“If there is some form of Autobot security measure, you may join the extraction. Otherwise, your services are still most required on Cybertron. Remember, we still don’t know which of these coordinates leads to the planet’s core.”

ask-smokescreen:

A secret compartment with maybe a few miscellaneous items, he was expecting. The console suddenly turning on? Not so much. Smokescreen’s optics brighten some as the console begins to recognize him, before looking back at Megatron in confusion, “You guys tried the console, didn’t you?” He might be tensing up some as Megatron stands right behind him, still looking through the files shown on the screen.

“Hold on- I didn’t really use this console, but there’s a bunch of different things that are showing up.” Smokescreen’s going to give a few taps to the keyboard, making sure there isn’t some other effect that’s supposed to happen, before opening everything he can to quickly search through.

There were some documents that looked like they were just there as reference to anyone just beginning at the hall, probably saved here because information could get lost so easily, that he’s guessing is not what Megatron’s looking for. Some floor plans, articles that had been saved beforehand…

Smokescreen’s continuing on, taking a quick glance through some personal notes from Alpha Trion, before finding a coordinates list that should look familiar to both of them.

Very familiar.

But this time, the coordinates seemed to have a normally encrypted descriptor of what the item is, automatically decrypted for mecha authorized to view the document, which currently meant Smokescreen.

Smokescreen’s trying to be careful to hold his position, in case the console is still scanning for a sudden loss of an Autobot presence and encodes the document again, but is turning slightly to try to see Megatron’s reaction. Was this what Megatron was looking for?

@ask-smokescreen

“Of course we did!” he snapped. “Even with restored power, this hard drive had been completely wiped!” Soundwave had recovered a few referential files himself, but even he had run into too much damage to continue safely. Clearly that damage was merely an elaborate defense protocol… He had to applaud the ancient mech, for creating something that could fool Soundwave.

Megatron’s optics remained fixed to the screen as files flash into view: blueprints, historical texts.. and a complete list of relics sent to Earth, along with their coordinates and the cadet’s image. How many weeks had it taken them to decrypt, when all they needed to do was bring Smokescreen here? He was given an Omega key, after all. All that and it had been right in front of this optics, hidden by by a thin layer of symbolism. He almost rolled his optics. How like Alpha Trion.

And there, at the bottom of the list, another coordinate list added in later, with no labels on any of the fifteen entries. None of them were on Earth, though a few were just as far or farther. Some of them were even on Cybertron. Megatron recorded the image of it to memory with a triumphant laugh. What else would an old Prime help to hide but that most precious?

“This is it… Smokescreen! Download the contents of these files onto secure datapads.”

“We’re going to find the Allspark.”

Huh. Hey, kid. Ya look real familiar, ya know that?

autobotwheelie:

mightymegatron:

mightymegatron:

He stares right back at Wheelie, looking unimpressed at the comment.

“M’ a mining unit. There’s kinda a lotta those. You look… orange.”

“Awesome stuff… in me?” Terminus had told him he could do great things, but he’d never phrased it like that. Did Wheelie mean his organs? The little miner laughed at the thought of his capacitors and t-cog being called awesome stuff.

“Zep? Zep… ok. It’s not my name but you c’n call me that ‘til I get one, ok?” Wheelie had permission to call him by this odd name. At least he wouldn’t confuse it with another one! He tilted his helm in thought, still staring up at the excited bot.

“Music’s fer singin’, not listening to. Is “Zep” somethin’ they sing about?”

Wheelie grinned.

“Zep is short for Led Zeppelin. They’re a group of well known singers and musicians from Earth. They’re famous!” said Wheelie.

He sat down cross legged on the ground to close the height distance between the two of them. Wheelie knew all but too well what it was like to have to constantly look up at someone while talking.

“I’m not much of a singer. But I like music and I really like listening to it!”

“Famous… singers?” Sure, some mechs were really good at it, but singing was never something Zep thought anyone could be famous for. It was just something they did for fun to pass time in the mines, to focus on something that wasn’t the heat or the hard work. Joining into a song had an invigorating effect that made you forget how tired you were for a little bit.

“I wanna hear ‘em. Are they nearby? How far’s Earth? Are the songs hard to learn? How d’you get to be famous at music?”

big-shoes-to-fill:

mightymegatron:

An amused grin forms as he nods. “It is the exact same place. You haven’t gone anywhere, but your whole being is moving at a different speed. Almost as if you have become a collection of sound.” He remembers Soundwave’s retelling and shakes it from his mind.

“What matters is that you are here now. And if it happens again, now we have something we can try that may return you a bit faster.”

“I guess,” Rigel murmured, looking over the candies in his possession. “Hey, uh, do you need your bridge thing back?”

It occurred to him that the Ex-Warlord had given it to him with no set date of retrieval, so while he had him there… It was better to ask rather than assume.

This surprised the warlord. Had Rigel really not figured out the true purpose of the device yet?

“…No. That was for you. Even if you have access to another ground bridge now, keep it with you. It is a way to reach me if you have need of it.”

big-shoes-to-fill:

After the treats were taken, Megatron drew his servo back, remaining low to stay near the child’s level. At full height he was intimidating even to large mechs.

“I have heard it called a “Shadowzone” by many, but only recently did I realize they referred to this very realm. While there, you are in the same place, but at a different frequency than everyone around you. Soundwave was trapped there when two adjacent ground bridges interfered with each other’s energy, and he was caught between. He told me that escaped by repeating the accident, bringing himself back to this frequency.”

“But it’s not another Multiverse place? It’s… A different… Like sound?”

While the idea of multiple, parallel universe was

blasé to him now, this was a little more abstract.

An amused grin forms as he nods. “It is the exact same place. You haven’t gone anywhere, but your whole being is moving at a different speed. Almost as if you have become a collection of sound.” He remembers Soundwave’s retelling and shakes it from his mind.

“What matters is that you are here now. And if it happens again, now we have something we can try that may return you a bit faster.”