Don’t look at him like that, it makes it harder to stay emotionally distant from this. He feels guilty enough as it is dragging you into this, literally, just so he could have some peace of mind nothing stupid would happen when he wasn’t looking. Then again, he left Eve…
…Maybe he should have brought his two charges together and made them promise to take care of each other in his absence. Yes, that would have been the smart thing to do.
"I know what I said." Slightly more aggressive pets going down the spinal strut, mixed in with a little bit of scratching. "And you know I’m right - you have to choose some time. I don’t follow the idea of taking off your Decepticon brandings though." He leans forward a bit, regarding the insignias on his wings curiously. "I’ve kept mine for the past year, despite all my traitor…doms." Did he use that word right?
The aggressive petting does help, if you could call slumping down in resignation ‘better’. He can’t help but purr, which sounds alien and out of place in the midst of all this.
Those wings will instinctively flatten back, sir, though the symbols are still visible. Branded into the metal. Not as old as the ones Megatron wore, obviously, but they had been there for most of his adult life. They added barely any weight, but he’d still find his wings unbalanced without them.
"Yeah, but have you ever actually actively stood against your faction? Besides hookin’ up with bitty Prime.” A light nuzzle to take the edge off the reminder. “Like, literally went, ‘these guys are my enemy’ looking at the mecha you used to fight beside.”
He knows literally nothing about your past, but he’s figuring that’s not a thing. Besides Starscream. No Starscream followed the rules.
“‘Cause, I mean, even with.. doing the stuff you don’t approve of, with you know who, or even Salad - I don’t go ‘my fellow Cybertronian is my enemy now’. I’ve been staying the hell away from any conscious decisions as long as I possibly can - cause if I’m supposed to choose one, I have to choose neither. That’s the rule.”
A lot quieter. “That doesn’t win me any friends.”
"No." He grumbles, leaning back as his engines shifts slightly from purring to growling. He didn’t need that reminder, thank you. "I haven’t had to fight against my own." The closest he’s come to that was Starscream, who arguably never really stood against but merely stood with different view points, and Thrust, who abandoned the Decepticons after Sideways promised him power from Unicron that would never come to fruition. "So I guess I really can’t say anything about this, let alone advise you on the best course of action."
Yes, he’s being pissy, feeling bitter that his advice on the situation is being completely ignored because having to actually do something requires effort and courage which is way more difficult than laying around and moping, but at least he’s still petting you. That counts for something, right?
"Maybe you should just go home then. And stay home, wait until I come back before you go wandering around so if anything bad happens I’ll be there to help you."
I want to be where you are so that I may protect you and offer aid as it is my duty as your friend and patron deity. I think… definitly as your friend though.
Hmm, very well then.
[Ping! One set of coordinates, set way out in a place you’ve never been before. Mind the strange atmosphere, and the locals who don’t always pay attention to what’s under their feet.]
"Hm?" Megatron glances up from his datapad and smiles softly once he recognizes the seeker. "It has been a while.” He chuckled, setting the datapad down on a nearby table.
"This is quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Starscream."
"Right." Megatron has yet to see empathy in Junior. There’s been some complexity here and there, displays of intelligence and signs of understanding what’s going on around, but there hasn’t been much else to him other than vicious guard dragon.
Chuckling, he shakes his head as he grabs the datapad, idly reading the information logged onto it. “‘Pinning him’, as you put it, really isn’t that challenging. He just needs consistency.” And when one is a constant force of pleasure and stability it’s easy to keep someone around.
"Of course you have problems. I never said you didn’t. I only said things are peaceful. You’re not tearing each other apart and destroying the world because it brings you one step closer to harmony, or world domination, or whatever it is you’re after. You’re dealing with typical political problems." He pauses. "You were anyway, I should say. Now your political disturbances are far, far away and there is only the faint rumble of war.” He stopped smiling and looked somberly at the glyphs on the datapad. That look wouldn’t last long though as a glare is quickly thrown Starscream’s way. “Do not call me that.”
He shrugged and fluttered his wings innocently, “I think you understand my aversion towards calling you simply ‘Megatron’, considering my history with your alternates, both past and present.” The seeker tipped his chin back and stroked an idle servo down the sleek slope of his slender neck, “I was merely expressing my esteem and affection for you, by tendering you by that nickname.”
"Welll…" He uncrossed his legs and clattered his claws against the plating of his knee, "I was rather hoping that, given your skill, you would treat me to a little sparring session. Skyfire seems very adamant about you testing my skill, you know."
"Even so, you will not address as that. It is not my name, and it is never going to be my name." Unless you’re Astrotrain, in which case you address him as Moosetress, but that’s another story. "If you detest addressing me by my full name then simply refer to me as Tron." Anything besides Moose would do.
"Sparring hm?" Megatron couldn’t hide the twinkle of excitement in his optics. "What are you after? Hand or hand, or shooting?"
"Hmm…" Megatron’s expression remained blank but there was a flicker of emotion in his optics, if anyone was paying enough attention to notice that. An energon crisis was a new element to the warlord, and it stirred up a feeling of sympathy towards the mecha who live through it. In his universe, energon was well on it’s way to becoming irrelevant through the war. It was invaluable of course, as the energy boost it could give warriors could be enough to change the outcome of an entire battle, but finding it was near impossible and came at a high price. It was wiser - for both Autobot and Decepticon forces - to focus their efforts on fighting and leave the energon where it was.
He wondered, for a moment, if the others had started searching for energon again now that the war was over. Were they going to use it rebuild Cybertron, or were they going to hoard it away to themselves?
"Where dos Vos’ energon resources come from?" He turns his attention onto Skyfire. "Is it imported from other cities, or is it mined within the cities’ limits? Either way, we should entertain the idea of severing the energon supplies and starving all of them - the citizens and the Decepticons. If my alternate is sending as much energon as he can back to your Earth to feed his troops, then cutting off his supplies should crash the little party he’s created for himself. They’ll go back to being hungry and desperate, morale will drop and weaknesses will be created."
“Imported, I believe. If there are mines within Vos, they are small and sparse. The city-state is not known for a booming mining population.” He frowned, tapping his datapad thoughtfully.
“The trouble with that is that Starscream will doubtlessly object to the starving out of his citizens. Besides, it would be simple enough for the Decepticons to bring energon back to Vos and distribute it to the people should we cut off their supply lines, thus insuring that we are painted as terrorists and Megatron as even more a savior.”
The edges of Megatron’s mouth lifted slightly, hinting at a smile. Starving out Vos would be no trouble for them - they’d simply have to cut off the fuel lines and wait.
That is, if they would actually agree to that plan.
What little trace there was of a smile on his face was quickly covered up by a large frown. “Starscream may want to reconsider his limitations then. Wars can’t be won without some sacrifice.
"The Decepticons can feed the Vosians and paint whatever pictures they want, but they’ll run out of energon eventually. They couldn’t sustain themselves before they got here and started to drain Cybertron of it’s energon, so they couldn’t possible hope to sustain an entire city."
Deserts are nice for sun bathing and warming up, but they tend to get uncomfortably hot after a while. The old girl stuck it out as long as she could in the land of nothingness and rocks, waiting to hear back from the larger companion, but she can only tolerate the blaring heat of the sun for so long. She needs shelter, somewhere cool to rest when being roasted alive didn’t suit her.
The little one had returned some time ago, chirping about a rock that stood taller than her and the big male combined but was covered in the scent of another dragon. Being a tiny little runt who stood no taller than her knee, he dared not to venture closer and risk upsetting its host and become its next meal. Best to leave that job to the big ones.
With a heavy groan and sigh, she rolls her head over to look at the tall rock that stood on the horizon, contemplating it’s possible worth over the amount of time and effort it would take to get there. In one claw, she would have a shaded home, a good place to rest when the sun became too much bare for both her and the prey. On the other claw though, it was far away, already occupied, and there was a slight risk of losing her large companion. The current occupant did not worry her much as she was confident in her abilities to outwit and beat them out of their home, but crossing the desert would use up strength she could not spare, or else she might lose the fight, and risked separating her from her companion who was obviously having trouble finding food out in this barren wasteland.
But she needed to get out of the sun. It was eating away at her strength faster than any fight ever could.
Groaning once more, the dragons rises to its feet and heads for the plateau, her eyes and ears open for any sign of movement - be it prey or predator - as the little one trots along within her shadow. At least his journey would be somewhat easier.
Mother was supposed to be back by now.
Had he abandoned him again?
No, no, he wasn’t going to wonder about that. He had a job to do. He knew where they were, and if need be, he had a pretty good understanding of how to operate the space bridge. His mother and his antlered pet were safe.
The broken mother and the massive lobster creature on the other hand..
After a constant subtle power struggle, Junior had finally chosen to chain the mech to the nearest sturdy object and slide him cubes, regardless of whether or not he drank them. Trying to manipulate a chain with claws and teeth instead of hands was nigh impossible, and he was pretty sure the poor slagger had given up on life by that fifth or sixth attempt. Still, it meant less whining. Kind of suspiciously less whining.
The dragon had cornered his other unwanted houseguest outside, trying to get it away from the rainbow cubes he knew for a FACT weren’t for anything but bipedal mecha.
He might have found this out the hard way.
Out here as he was, snarling the ravebeast into a hole under the unnatural rock formation, his proximity alert went off. He could smell something organic that he had no experience with. Black scales and wings flared, momentarily abandoning his mission to haul himself up onto the rocks, where he could properly engage his targeting system, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.
A thing like him. A large one, and a smaller one. Ambling towards the silo.
He … wasn’t aware things like him existed.
His organic heart may have skipped a beat.
That might be why he let them get a little too close before sounding off a warning roar.
So the little one did not lie then, there is another dragon in the desert. Narrowing her eyes, she stares up at the black mass on top of the plateau, heeding no caution to its roar. She knows it’s your territory black one, that’s why she’s coming to take it.
Raising her snout she sniffs the air, trying to pick up the other dragon’s scent (and maybe the large purple one, if he’s still in the area), but the heat makes it near impossible to pick up anything besides the smell of the little ankle biter, who currently hides less in her shadow and more under her belly. There is something else besides the little one though, something… metallic? Impossible. Metal was with the humans, and there were no humans here. But the more she sniffed the more she could smell that strange metal scent.
Hmm.. This will be investigated later, after she’s acquired a new home and got something to eat.
Until then, she’s going to continue marching on towards the plateau, acting as though she had no reason to care or worry about the large black dragon but keeping her eyes on them the entire time (it’s not like there’s anything she could trip on out here), waiting for them to make the first move.