- Motto: "Broken Autobots never mend."
- Weapon: Magnetic Repellor-Attractor
When the Stunticon turned to look at her, a huge grin split his face in half. Absolutely plastered across his faceplate. It was an expression that she had seen before, albeit at a lesser intensity. Being a femme did serve her well at times. Her sudden appearance would likely inspire questions from many a mech, but not Breakdown. Thankfully.
"Fight. Big fight. After Megatron and Optimus had that huge fight and we lost the Big M, we've been at each others throats ever since. I still don't think it's over."
Flamewar's expression remained unchanged. This was only a confirmation of what she had expected. Nevertheless, the loss did stir some long buried emotions in the femme's spark. However, she had no time to grieve their one true leader's loss. The fight in the hangar was clearly a battled for leadership of the Decepticons with no clear victory as of yet, according to the Stunticon's testimony. How to proceed from here?
Unfortunately, Flamewar had little time to ponder this as she was approached by Shadowing - Shockwave's assistant if she remembered correctly. He asked her simply what he could do for her. She removed her hand from Breakdown's shoulder and stood up to her full height. Switching from a demeanor of pleasantness to that of authoritative seriousness, the black and crimson femme gestured toward Shockwave.
"When will Shockwave be operational again? I wish to speak with him," Flamewar asked Shadowing plainly.
As a fellow loyalist, Flamewar could afford the cycloptic mechanoid a small amount of trust in certain matters unlike the treacherous ilk of Starscream and those like him. The military commander looked to be in very poor condition despite the illusion of stability. Someone had obviously not liked the cycloptic commander's logic-driven leadership style. He did tend to lack anything in the way of charisma.
Flamewar's thoughts were again interrupted when a familar face strolled over to her and greeted her. Warwolf. He had been a former pupil of hers long ago. She had trained him to be an interrogator, teaching him techniques outside of the usual Decepticon brute force. Her expression did not change, but Flamewar nodded in acknowledgement to Warwolf.
"Greetings, Warwolf," she said simply, "I am here on business."
Before she could even say another word, Misfire interjected. Flamewar had noticed the horrid marksman follow her inside of the medical bay, but she hadn't deigned to address him, supposing that he would go to socialize with the other mechs standing about the medical bay. To the contrary, the interceptor had lurked about and even eavesdropped on her little conversation with Breakdown. Of course, Battletrap had yelled something across the medical bay at Blitzwing to the effect of a rather crude summary of events.
"So, Flamewar, if Megatron's really gone, we'll need a new leader... you're one of his lieutenants. Maybe you should take over?"
Flamewar turned her cold gaze on Misfire, staring into his optics. The interceptor's careless remark brought a valid option to mind. As one of Megatron's lieutenants, she would be one of the few that many would look at as a potential candidate for leadership. As well as a threat. She could try her hand at taking the throne for herself. Indubitably.
"I have no intention of prolonging the little farce in the hangar any longer," Flamewar said finally, her unwavering gaze still locked onto Misfire's optics.
Whoever that blood bath yielded as the victor would rule over an army of the injured and broken. Frustrating and pointless. So many Decepticons were blinded by their ambitions that they would let the Decepticon cause become secondary in their conquest for power. And the Autobots...they'd no doubt capitalized on this in some way, but any headway that they might have made should have been quickly rooted out.
Instead, the entirety of the high ranking Decepticons assigned to Earth fought their own internal war. A blazing anger simmered just beneath Flamewar's calm exterior. After a few astroseconds, Flamewar composed her emotions, a calm descending upon her once again. The facts. Megatron was gone. Merely missing optimistically. Nonfunctional pessimistically. Whoever won the battle in the hangar would lead the Decepticons. It was far too early to make any rash decisions.
No. Flamewar would wait. She would watch. And after gathering a complete knowledge of all of the cards in play, she would only then make her move. However, that did not mean that Flamewar could not stack the deck in her favor in the meantime. The larger the network of supporters and informants, the more intelligence she could gather, and the more decisively she could make a play. The sooner she did this, the better.
Flamewar looked at those who had approached her. Perhaps she had already begun.
“Shadowing says Shockwave is pretty much fine, so what now?"
Weirdwolf glanced up at the cycloptic commander laying prone on the medical berth, grateful that Shockwave would not immediately explode in his face. The tracker had completely ignored the statements about the newly arrived femme regarding anything to do with her chassis. No one had really bothered to answer his query. Although Battletrap had made the odd observation that the femme was among the ranks of the seekers. The lupine mech cast another glance at her. No...she was clearly not a seeker. Perhaps Flywheels was not the only Duocon with an odd quirk.
"Until Shockwave is fully well, stay to guard. I am curious of fight though. It be interesting to see who win. Would Shockwave support winner? Will Cons stay together? I bet medbay will be busier soon enough. It is getting crowded now."
"Know the future I do not. Shrouded in uncertainty and doubt without Megatron it undoubtedly is," Weirdwolf commented offhandedly.
The tracker's thoughts shifted to his long-time comrade Skullcruncher who was still spectating the event, or so Weirdwolf assumed. In his skirmish with the Predacon cat Rampage, Weirdwolf had sustained some injuries of his own, primarily on his face. He really had ought to tend to them...but he disliked the idea of being ignorant of their new leader. Razorclaw had seemed like it would be he, but then Thunderwing had interjected...
His curiosity getting the better of him, the tracker rose to his feet and quietly padded toward the medical bay's doors without a word to the two Duocons. Halfway to the door, Weirdwolf cast a cursory glance behind him.
"Going I am to see the false king made true through trial of combat," he stated by way of explanation before continuing on his way.