WarehouseFeint wrote: "Thundercracker... you... you put me to shame, my fellow 'Con."
Hearing
Feint's appreciation and humbleness caught Thundercracker off guard. To be honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard a fellow Decepticon emote those traits unless Megatron's hand was wrapped around their neck. It was enough to cause the Seeker to hesitate, but he detected legitimate gratitude in the mech's demeanor.
In answer, he shook his head and smiled. "There is nothing to be shamed about. I've grown... accustomed to similar machines over the vorns. The trick is to look for the simplest answers. If it's too complex, Lord Megatron wouldn't trust it for field use."
He added the final part as an after thought. While it was true Megatron wouldn't put his Decepticons in danger haphazardly, the exact methodology of thier current leader was still in question.
Still, he hoped he was being helpful. There were few things that hurt more than looking like a fool in Megatron's optics, and the fact that this mech was concerned enough to mention it instead of slinking away showed he wasn't typical.
Such as knowing my name?Thundercracker inwardly winced at that, and decided this was the best opportunity to correct that oversight.
"Since we'll be working together, it's the least I can do." He paused, trying to figure out the best way to eat cybercrow. The fact he was known made sense, but that didn't give him a pass for not knowing who he was serving with. "Forgive me for the oversight, but I don't remember your name. Though, we did serve together before, didn't we?"
Feint wrote:"Wow..." He said softly. "Seeing them so up close... humans are ugly."
Thundercracker had to agree. While he believed there were some good qualities to these people, but after what he'd seen, he thought were doing this region a favor. In many ways, he thought they were similar to Cybertronians. Maybe too similar. He couldn't help but wonder if they would be doing the fleshlings and the universe a favor if they wiped them out.
~~~
Warehouse ComplexDessicator motored along a narrow roadway as he continued along a patrol route he thought would be ideal given their current situation. It was the best way he could think of to deal with having others so close and his desire to level anything that moved in the distance.
It was an inner war he hadn't had to face previously, and it only served to put him more on edge. It would be easy to get lost in energon lust and bombard everything, including his fellow Decepticons, but that wasn't what the mission was.
Why was I selected again? he wondered for what felt like the millionth time. As much as he wanted to think Flamewar was behind it, a vocal part of him argued against it, citing the lack of reasoning in that. If she wanted to see or talk to him, she could have done so at any time. If she wished to gauge his abilities, well, she'd seen those up close when they first met.
No, it had to be something else.
He didn't believe she wanted to embarrass him, so that left only one thing: she wanted him to demonstrate himself to Megatron.
Of course! He wasn't a high enough rank for her to feel comfortable with, so he had to prove himself. It made perfect sense.
Now, all he had to do was keep walking the line between the jovial mech he was around the Decepticons with the murderous bombardier that loved spilling energon.
Not so simple, but it was a challenge after all, was it not?
Pleased that he'd worked through that mystery, he felt confident time would reward him for his struggles. If he could just blow one thing up...
Megatron wrote:>>"Infiltration team, we're heading into the city,"<<
Dessicator's fuel pump nearly skipped a beat at hearing that.
We're going to see action?It was something that should've made his circuits sizzle with anticipation instead of dread, but if he was going to prove himself, remaining here wasn't the way to do it.
Sighing, he opened his end of the communication and said, >>
Message received, Lord Megatron. Enroute now. Dessicator out.<<
Pulling up his navigation system, he entered in the coordinates and a new pathway appeared in his visual.
It had to be better than driving around going crazy.
He held onto that thought until he arrived and transformed. He'd arrived in time to see a couple of avatars enter an Earth vehicle.
Though he was sure one was Megatron, it didn't stop him from thinking,
You have got to be kidding me.Had he been human, he would've whimpered. As a Cybertronian, he barely contained the impulse. Knowing he wouldn't have as much control over his body as a fleshy, even if it was a hologram, didn't help calm him.
You're doing this for Flamewar. Remember that, part of him reasoned.
Not like I'll ever forget, he shot back at himself.
He scanned the area with his optics, looking for anyone (especially Flamewar) that might be watching him. Seeing no one, but knowing someone probably was, he forced himself to focus and deal with the situation.
It was all he could do since committing himself and he knew it.
Unhappy as was possible for a mech, he entered the warehouse in time to see Megatron's Cybertronian form standing with others gathered around.
He didn't want to interact with the others until he sorted himself out, so he ignored them as he thought,
Suck it up, big boy. If he and the others can do it, so can you.He quietly wondered if it was possible to remove the glitch of a personality that had been gnawing at him since this started as he approached the machinery.
Technology wasn't really his thing, but it looked like a neural type of interface as well as a physical one. Looking at those already there, he thought about asking which was better, then decided against it. He didn't want to appear as worried as he felt.
Okay, this shouldn't be difficult just locate the signal and connect and... Oh scrap...He barely had a chance to register the sensation of being copied, transferred, or whatever they called it before he saw his avatar.
I really should've put some thought into this.A human male standing about five-foot-three and with a large, protruding stomach and no hair appeared in front of him.
Not quite that image he'd assumed would represent him, but compared to the others, he wondered how out of place he would be on this world.
At least, I got the secondary paint (clothes) right. I think. With nothing else to do but proceed, the avatar turned and headed toward the waiting vehicles. With any luck, he could find one all to himself. As he got used to his new body, a human saying he'd heard broadcast once came to him, but in a much more fitting style: Misery doesn't alway want company.
Ain't that the truth.