Tag: Thesoundlessvoid

 thesoundlessvoid‌:

 mightymegatron‌:

Megatron may not have tusks, but he may as well have horns, and his claws are no less capable. While he does not dwarf the tyton, he’s gained enough mass to meet him in sheer size.

Remaining seated seems like the best choice for this, in an attempt to seem as non-threatening in this form as possible. Singer looks nervously between the two of them, before returning to his work station to give them space.

“Unwillingly, I assure you. I am in the process of returning my frame to normal… after Unicron’s possession of it.” He did not meet Blackout’s optics but watched the helo’s shoulder instead, keeping his field reigned tightly in. His reveal could be disastrous, but it had to be done.

Blackout despises gods. All gods, not even just the “bad” ones – Unicron and Primus are both halves to the horrible whole as far as the forty-four foot tyton is concerned. Neither of them have ever meant anything good for him.

Clutching one of the necks of his 2-neck harpguitar nervously, as he had been intending on serenading what he thought was a sick Megatron with music, the rotorflier swallows.

“Unicron, huh?” he mumbles almost under his breath. “Always some good news. You’d think gods would have better shit to do than meddle with mortals, huh?”

Singer has all but been forgotten for the tyton. His focus is entirely on the “boss”, the mech he followed into war for so long. For the wrong reasons, a voice chimes from the black depths of his mind, but Blackout squashes it.

You have no reason to feel such loyalty to this mech, Soul Eater whispers.

Shut it.

You joined his cause so you could further your own. Does he know that? Does he know you killed his own soldiers half as often as you killed the enemy?

SHUT UP.

Blackout shakes his head sharply once and the concentrated fearful look vanishes under a charming smile. “Shit happens,” he quips, moving over to plant his aft on the empty medical berth across from Megatron. “Are you feeling better?”

Considerably tense, but that was to be expected. Honestly, the quick return to casual conversation is a welcome surprise; he’d half-expected Blackout to attack him, or turn right around and leave. As soon as the tyton begins to relax, Megatron does too, looking a little more like himself again with a fanged grin.

“Eto luchshe, chem byt’ mertvym. You’re looking much better, yourself. But of course, it’s near impossible to keep a gladiator down for long.” Hopefully the same would hold true for his conjunx. “A little music and nostalgia certainly couldn’t hurt, either.”

Staked

STAKED – a jarring event, something that changed their life/outlook

Speaking of stakes, hoooow ‘bout that time he got stabbed through the spark chamber by Bumblebee and fell to Earth and thought he had failed and was going to die and didn’t die because dark energon and was forced into bedrest for months and physically couldn’t be angry for a while so was forced to sort out some emotional shit?

 thesoundlessvoid:

 mightymegatron:

::…In a manner of speaking. You may enter.::

The doors open and Singer steps aside, bowing his helm to Blackout. Megatron sits up on the edge of the primary berth, dominating the room without even standing. His frame is much larger than it was, almost every inch of it warped with rusted plating and extraneous spikes. Even his face has been altered, to closer resemble that of the Chaosbringer. Thankfully, his biolights are a healthy blue, rather than violet. The door shuts behind the helicopter. 

“My affliction was one I fear you are all too familiar with… but you are safe. There is no trace of dark energon within me anymore.”

When the door opens, the tyton enters as bid, looking down at the mech who fixed him up after his most recent … incident with a smile. He doesn’t really know Singer, but he knows the little dude is pretty good at medicine. When Blackout looks up, though, the smile quickly disappears. 

Halting in his tracks just inside the medbay, the giant eyes Megatron warily. He has images of Unicron seared into his brain, it’s true, but more often than not it isn’t the Unmaker that haunts his nightmares. It’s something more real, with claws that rend and tusks that maim. 

“You, uh,” Blackout starts, gnawing on his cygar nervously. “Going for a new look?”

Megatron may not have tusks, but he may as well have horns, and his claws are no less capable. While he does not dwarf the tyton, he’s gained enough mass to meet him in sheer size.

Remaining seated seems like the best choice for this, in an attempt to seem as non-threatening in this form as possible. Singer looks nervously between the two of them, before returning to his work station to give them space.

“Unwillingly, I assure you. I am in the process of returning my frame to normal… after Unicron’s possession of it.” He did not meet Blackout’s optics but watched the helo’s shoulder instead, keeping his field reigned tightly in. His reveal could be disastrous, but it had to be done.

thesoundlessvoid:

@mightymegatron

When Blackout gets to the medbay, the door is locked, the room in quarantine. The familiar voice of a medic pipes up from the intercom beside the door. ::Oh, Blackout sir! One moment.::

After a pause, Megatron opens a private com channel to Blackout.

::Blackout. Before you enter, I warn you. My current appearance, and the reason for my current appearance, may disturb you.::

That’s odd. His appearance? Blackout chews on the end of his cygar a bit, arching an optic ridge. 

:: I don’t care what you look like, boss. What’s going on? You get scrapped? ::

::…In a manner of speaking. You may enter.::

The doors open and Singer steps aside, bowing his helm to Blackout. Megatron sits up on the edge of the primary berth, dominating the room without even standing. His frame is much larger than it was, almost every inch of it warped with rusted plating and extraneous spikes. Even his face has been altered, to closer resemble that of the Chaosbringer. Thankfully, his biolights are a healthy blue, rather than violet. The door shuts behind the helicopter. 

“My affliction was one I fear you are all too familiar with… but you are safe. There is no trace of dark energon within me anymore.”

Gasp. The warlord is sick? This won’t do. The tyton can come visit him in the medbay bearing gifts of cygars and delicious food, and music. Good music this time, sung by the chopper himself.

When Blackout gets to the medbay, the door is locked, the room in quarantine. The familiar voice of a medic pipes up from the intercom beside the door. ::Oh, Blackout sir! One moment.::

After a pause, Megatron opens a private com channel to Blackout.

::Blackout. Before you enter, I warn you. My current appearance, and the reason for my current appearance, may disturb you.::

 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.

A request for coordinates is sent, along with a greeting ping. Megatron will be coming with medic in- tow, a vehicon with prominent weldscars at his waist.

thesoundlessvoid:

Blackout warns Riella that Megatron is coming, so she can head out and be elsewhere, before pinging the warlord back. Come on over.

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?”

thesoundlessvoid:

@mightymegatron

::Heh, I’ll keep that in mind. Shitty company is always appreciated.:: He takes a deep breath, the burn in his lines still there.

::Soon, I will take you up on that. …I am also in possession of your cockpit glass, I can return that as well.::

::It is good to hear from you.::

Blackout manages to sit up, patting the ground around his nest until he finds the cygar he left there. :: Oh, that’s where my glass went. He sent it to you. Great. ::

The tyton sighs softly. :: I’m sorry. About the whole … bullslag and all. :: He lights the cygar and takes a long vent full. :: Grindor is as crazy as they come. Keep an optic out for him, if he could send you something, he knows where you are. He says he’s a Herald of Unicron. ::

::Apologizing for being tortured? Seems we’re both sorely in need of company.:: The name gives him pause. His thoughts go to Rigel. That was where he had tracked the mechling before. Does the beast know his current location?

::…I have known Heralds, but it sounds as if yours is more willing and active than mine. Even so, I’m unconcerned for myself. I have some rather unfortunate experience in this area. Should I bring a medic along?::