Ep. 1 - We're All Mad Here (Closed, Ravage)

[Deleted]

(Week 2, possibly after Setting Up Shop unless Felds wishes it otherwise :3)

Despite his vastness, finding privacy within the 'Nemesis' could be notoriously difficult. His hallways were riddled with sensors of one sort or another, providing audiovisual input at the very least. Automated logs keep track of who went through which door, who keyed what code against which lock, and who took which lift where. One need only know how to find and read such logs, and every last life within the great warship was made uncomfortably public. Soundwave did so regularly; there were, he suspected, very few mechs that knew how well the 'Nemesis' kept track of his crew, and even less that knew the full extent to which the warship served as one of the 3IC's tools of espionage.

It made him well aware, fortunately, of those few places where one could go and find privacy.

The ship's fusion chamber was full of razor-sharp shadows. As the automated arm picked up and dumped cube after energon cube into the core with its immutable sense of timing, those shadows danced and shifted, but were never gone. The room was never dark unless the 'Nemesis' himself were dormant. Its gates were always closed, and unless a delivery were being made to feed the ship's prodigious appetite, no one wanted to be in here.

Soundwave was perched on one of the highest points in the cavernous room, on a curving support beam, one hand holding onto the nearest anchor point to the ceiling. He'd found himself with one entirely unusual off-duty moment; no search protocol needed his immediate presence at the moment, and even his remote connections to the ship's systems were giving him no feedback that demanded his conscious attention.

The ship and his crew, apparently, were at an odd nadir of activity. It wouldn't last, Soundwave knew - it never did. But for the nonce, he had it in his hands and needed only to decide what to do with it.

The ping he sent out was limited to an extremely narrow frequency, used almost exclusively by himself and his cassettes. It was a simple tidbit of location, with no command or urgency glyph attached. Laserbeak offered his usual, and immediate protest, but nonetheless roused and detached from Soundwave to begin an idle perimeter flight around the vast chamber. The slender mech sat cross-legged on the highest point of the arching beam, hands on his knees, and seemingly watched the play of light from the core.

[Ravage]

Soundwave's ping was immediately answered. A quiet acknowledgement over private spaces, and with it was a sense like the brush of a muzzle, a nod, and silent footfalls. It was close; carrying the place where he spent much of his time; the high crossed beams of that place where Ravage could rest and observe the mechs down below doing their daily routine.

Often, Fairwinds was with him. She'd crouch on one of those criss crossing beams and chat about all the gossip. Who was doing what, why they were doing it. Who was doing things they sure weren't supposed to. Who had she seen on patrol this week. Today though, it was simply Ravage and silence, and he was glad to break it. Too much on his mind weighing heavy lately, too many things that were out of pattern. He'd been roaming away from the base, sniffing, listening, trying to track trails that were not there, coming up with dead ends and dead spaces and that- that bothered him intensely, even if the dark mech would not admit it aloud to anyone.

Sleekly, Ravage lifted himself onto his feet and stretched out over his forelimbs, rolling his shoulders before he padded down that narrow bridge of metal. A lithe leap down, then another, and he was on the floor. His ears flicked forward, then back as his head dropped between his low-slung shoulders, and the cat smoothly padded down the corridors. His dark metal blended easily into the shadows of the great ship as he made his way towards the fusion chambers.

He passed through the halls in silence. No one noticed him, and it was a skill he took pride in. As always, he listened to them; to the Vehicons chattering and nattering between themselves as they toiled on some task.

"You hear about that? Totally torn apart. Whole damn patrol. Ripped to pieces."

"Yeah, not even enough left to make a paperweight."

"Gruesome, Jerry."

"Hey what can I say?" A deep laugh. "I like dark humor. That's why I'm painted black."

"We're all painted black, you moron."

Ravage did not stop. He moved past, optics half-lidded in thought. He filed that away too though, placed it among all the other patterns out there.

Footsteps down the next corridor. One set was heavy and solid. The other was lighter, with a bit of a swagger. Ravage didn't even have to sniff to know who they were. Ah, the medic and the fighter.

"... what did he say?"

"Nothing intelligent," the medic dismissed, with a chortle of laughter. "Not that I expected anything else. Humans. How did they ever manage to evolve to be the dominate species here, you have to wonder."

"Dunno."

"A question for the ages!" Knock Out crowed, throwing his arms wide. A grin crossed his face, sloping and amused. He paced on a few more strides and laughed again.

A flick of the dark cat's ear. Ah, he'd been out racing again. The faint whiff of outside scents curled off the medic's shiny plating. Ravage noted that as well, and continued on.

It wasn't long before he slipped into the fusion chamber. He lifted his muzzle up, ears framing the silent sweep of Laserbeak's path. His tail tip flicked from side to side, and he merely paced on after that quiet acknowledgement. Ravage never quite came out of those sharp shadows before he lightly leapt up one beam, then another, climbing easily and smoothly upwards until he came to a stop at Soundwave's side.

He settled his haunches down and his tail smoothly wrapped around them. There was the quietest incline of his head; his ears turned to frame the tall, lean mech between them in the way of old companions that knew and trusted the other with comfortable silence...

Also, many many secrets.

[Deleted]

Laserbeak reported Ravage's arrival as soon as the dark mech crossed into their space. Soundwave's helm tilted so that the cat's reflection leapt and paced on the empty surface of his face-plate; however, by the time Ravage reached the beam on which Soundwave sat, the mech's head had turned and reflected only the on-again, off-again glow of the hungry furnace below.

Soundwave did not need to watch Ravage's approach for treachery. He was, perhaps, one of three beings alive that could make that claim on the Decepticon 3IC.

Laserbeak's slow spiraling had devolved into some sort of private game wherein the ever-shifting shadows were apparently no-fly zones. The small cassette, however, abandoned his flight path as soon as Ravage had settled next to Soundwave and came to circle tightly about them both, firing his usual sulk/fuss message: a precise timer, up to the vorn and down to fractions of an astrosecond, of the time the cat had spent away from them. Simple creature that he was, Laserbeak nonetheless found ways to express himself well to the point to his odd little cohort.

Soundwave shifted briefly to watch his smaller cassette. He eschewed, as always he did, comm. communications, even his own brand; he knew better than anyone just how easy they were to invade, and with the occasion being not one of business, he did not care to be intruded upon at all.

A glyph etched itself on the empty screen, the most basic of queries. With no undertones of command, or secondary shadings pertaining to a specific subject, it looked almost like a scribble, a question mark on an otherwise empty space.

Below the lonely, plain glyph and with enough time between one and the other to make it clear they were entirely separate bits of conversation, flashed a set of coordinates identifying a particular section of the 'Nemesis' as well as a time and date. Something, not particularly threatening or useful for intelligence purposes but perhaps entertaining, odd, or simply deviating from the warship's endless routine, had taken place there. It was, however, up to Ravage to see about acquiring that little tidbit of knowledge if he so wished; a game Soundwave rarely indulged, lacking both opportunity and companionship to do so. For mechs so interested in other people's secrets, very few of the crew actually actively dug after them within the 'Nemesis' itself.

[Ravage]

Ravage flicked his ear at Laserbeak's lofting around them. His amusement was obvious; not degrading, but obvious. Yes, yes, I spent time away. Yes it was that much time. Yes, you are correct. The other mech continued to chatter and chitter mentally; Ravage just merely accepted it as his due.

There was a gentle, quiet flick of his ear back, a bit out to the side. He was not apologetic for the time he'd spent away. It was duty, it was work; Soundwave knew where he went- well, for the most part. They tended to be polite about it, some things were simply held aside. Could they have been dug up, dealt with, shared between them? Yes.

It was a measure of trust and confidence in the other that they were not. Long years, distant places, their goals intertwined with a friendship and an understanding. Ravage did not need words from Soundwave and he did not ask for them. He was content and pleased with silence because it spoke far more to him than all the screaming and screeching of their fellows. That was why he had agreed to this, so long long ago. Become my partner, and we go on, stronger than we were.

Soundwave understood patterns. He understood the rise and fall of those around him, he caught subtle nuance. Currents of power, the sniff of a subordinate to a superior. Politics. Ah, so much politics. Ravage genuinely enjoyed those discussions; they agreed on many things and agreed to disagree on others. It was pleasant.

His ears pricked up again at the glyph.

"I am well," the cat murmured, and his voice did not carry. Low and deep, it was the barest of rumbles, deep in the lean black chest. His tail moved slightly, but the flick was lazy, calm, and echoed his thoughtful musing on the query.

Ravage tipped his head to the left as the coordinates passed by. Then he couldn't help himself, his jaw opened slightly, fangs gleaming. His shoulders shifted as his tail swept out behind him, the tip twitching in amusement.

"The Vehicons were not trading Pokemon cards again, were they?" he queried, gently nosing for the gossip. "Ah, last time ended up in a fist-fight. Amusing, over an electric... whatever it is."

[Deleted]

Laserbeak was a simple creature. His acknowledgment at being acknowledged was about as much as he could provide in the way of greeting. Nonetheless the flyer darted by with a wholly unnecessary spiral; in his own way, he was pleased.

Soundwave had never set his hand to enforce or refuse any sort of interaction between his cassettes, other than avoiding actual loss of spark and servo. They would come to a relationship, or they would not, as best they could on their own. Fortunately for him Laserbeak was easy-going in his simplicity, and Ravage was too intelligent not to mark the difference between being familiarity and fawning. Laserbeak did not, could not, fawn.

He accepted Ravage's answer whole, his helm tilting in the briefest of nods and the query glyph blinking away. Then he tapped a single talon on the set of coordinates, which rose; below it appeared a small image of a blue-ish creature, and two brief gists for disturbance of the peace in the hallways.

Soundwave did not claim to understand why the Vehicons were fascinated with specific parts of human culture. Collecting, collecting games, collecting the games themselves or the paraphernalia that came with them. Collecting movies or emulating the behaviors of said movies. Laserbeak collected pictures of feathers - not birds, just feathers. He imagined it served some subconscious purpose; it helped developed some part of the Vehicons' minds that had, until Awakening, lain forgotten and stunted. He did not mind it, never reported and hardly ever stopped it unless it interfered with the pulse and rhythm of the warship.

It still amused the Pit out of him, and he could have spoken at length (if he actually spoke) of the current value and rarity of most every card on board the 'Nemesis', of who smuggled, who traded, who cheated and so on. This particular card had caught his attention because it was beginning to run around as a "cursed" card - no one kept it for very long, and usually lost it under less-than-sterling physical circumstances. It, of course, had nothing to do with their own collective obsession - no, surely it was cursed. At the moment it was really considered cursed, since it had vanished and no Vehicon knew who had it. Again the single inquiry glyph appeared, inviting Ravage to offer his opinion.

[Ravage]

Ravage settled his weight and lifted a paw. He rubbed along the bottom of his jaw in a very mech-like gesture of thought, more humanoid than animal. His ears tilted thoughtfully as his tail tip twitched slightly again.

Overhead, the venting systems of the Nemesis hissed and burbled. They pushed the dry air past the two mechs as they sat. Ravage lifted his nose into those invisible currents and drew in a slight touch to analyze every molecule. It was who he was, to stay on guard at all times. So many memories, from places long, long gone. Yet the echoes remained of his feet on the wide white corridors, the murmur of his fellow watcher.

Ravage didn't think of him often anymore. Distance and lifetimes. Eons between them, where cities rose and fell. A change in power, those on the bottom rising to the top as if they were the slow cryptic bubbles in oil sludge.

Except Lord Megatron. He rose and he stayed there above it all. Like he had risen from the pits of the gladiators. Echoes of speeches, churning up from that stagnation and decay. Soundwave understood. So did Ravage. They followed because they had heard the truth and they chose to change their world before it spiraled down into a place of no return.

Ravage stretched his forelegs out. Slowly, the cat settled down on the beam, his deep chest brushing cold metal. His hindquarters folded smoothly underneath him, and he crossed his paws one over the other, as if he was an ancient statue at the foot of a information repository.

"Ah, that one," Ravage agreed. His muzzle tipped downwards in a nod. "That one has been passed around quite a bit."

His ears moved back and forth as he regarded the spindly mech next to him. The glyph's afterglow lingered.

"I have not kept track of it much myself lately," he admitted. "It is amazing what they believe is cursed."

A soft huff of air purled out of his muzzle.

"Perhaps in your possession?" he wondered, and inclined his head with interested amusement. It seemed to fit the pattern. Quiet, letting the others flit and panic and believe deep dark things about the most innocuous of objects, before releasing it again out of nowhere.

[Deleted]

Soundwave turned to look at Ravage fully, or at least mimicked the gesture. His helm tilted just so, slender talons coming up to rest on his chestplates. The message was clear, and paradoxical if only because of the mech delivering it in posture, rather than words.

What, innocent little ol' me?

Surely, he could never do such a thing. Surely, his interests were elsewhere; he was far too busy to indulge in such idle manipulation of the Vehicons and their random obsessions. Surely!

Besides, he didn't have the card; Laserbeak did. The first time, the cassette had picked it up abandoned on the floor of a Vehicon mess hall after one scuffle or another, and brought it to Soundwave, who'd eventually left it to be found elsewhere... only to have his cassette bring it back every time it was 'lost' or 'forgotten'.

At some point it had gone from irritatingly obsessive to downright amusing. Nothing Soundwave had done would stop Laserbeak from brooding over the damn thing, so he might as well roll with it.

The 3IC was slightly more given to hacking the games the Vehicons traded through the mainframe. Everything from Duck Hunt to Space Invaders (oh, the irony) passed through swiftly as only information can, and some of them were getting very good at covering their tracks... but not good enough. There might well be a version or two of the first game where one ended up shooting a highly pixelated version of a certain Air Commander. No Vehicon had ever mentioned anything.

But, that was as it were. Dropping the facade of perfectly wounded innocence, Soundwave flicked a single talon towards the actual guilty party, then shrugged one shoulder elegantly. He could point the who, he just was bedamned about the why. Ravage, of course, was welcome to try and find out.

[Ravage]

A soft chuckle rolled from the curving black depths of the cat's chest and drifted only between him and Soundwave. It was an honest laugh though, not one that was merely a polite gesture. His tail tip echoed his amusement with a tiny flick.

"Yes, of course," he murmured. The systems around them hummed and whirred. Tiny motes of dust drifted in the overhead lights; it was one of those things that you could never quite get rid of. Dirt was constantly being brought in to the ship. While the air-scrubbers and those assigned to cleaning duty did their best, it still managed to get through the conduits and vents into all the places it could find, seemingly attracted by the most polished ones possible.

Ravage glanced over at Laserbeak though when that light talon flicked upwards to the other cassette. "I see," he agreed. "If I ventured my theory, it would be because of his drive to lift and return valuable information to you. To the Vehicons the card is valued. It has become important, it is..."

A pause. "A point towards a sense of self, I believe. A thread that becomes memory which becomes personal, perhaps. I do not know. I merely watch the Vehicons develop their sense of individuality. I still do not understand what causes one over another to step out on the path of a name. It is different. Very different. Every pattern is not alike. I have often wondered if that is the answer?"

He glanced up at Soundwave, ears pricking forward.

[Deleted]

As Ravage spoke, Soundwave's helm tilted to follow Laserbeak's flight. In truth, Soundwave rarely if ever looked directly at any mech when listening to them; he was used to standing off to one side, or behind someone, and drawing far more information from how they said things. Whenever he turned that empty faceplate directly towards someone, he was either expecting physical violence, or not paying a great deal of attention. Occasionally he was being pert when he did so, but he rarely did so anymore.

Ravage's frame told him very little; like his carrier, the mech seemed to have grown used to minimizing bodily language. Even their fields leaned more towards subtlety, barely detectable things until, at least in Soundwave's case, an excess of emotion brought it to clarity. Soundwave wanted, instead, to focus on how the words were spoken, as well as the words themselves.

The cat was bringing about a point that had seen much discussion and, sadly, very little analysis. Awakening was a gift, but one that was as little understood now as it had been when first found among the lowest echelons of Cybertronian society. Soundwave could have spend the entirety of his time chasing down the elusive wisps that he thought might lead him to understanding the phenomenon, but they hardly ever coalesced into obvious answers.

He coiled his hand back, and tapped a talon lightly against the top of his helm, then against the narrow angles of his chest; he lifted that hand again and curled two talons in a sort of 'fingers crossed' gesture. He rather thought Awakening came from both mental and spiritual developments, simply because the Awakened had both; it could just as easily be that the one led to awareness led to the other, but he didn't think so.

After a moment's thought, he pointed at Ravage and nodded; the desire to hoard, to own, to collect seemed intrinsically bound to rising sentience. Why, only Primus knew, and he could only guess.

That guess, however, he could share in present company if nowhere else. He opened his hand, palm up. Over it, in rifling order and simplest of details, circled small symbols for the little vices the Vehicons allowed themselves and fought over: video games, collectible cards, games about collectible cards, digital hoarding of equally collectible items. These were things they did not need, but coveted anyways. Faster and faster the tiny holographic carousel spun, until it became the simple faction symbol all Vehicons wore. With utmost care he closed his talons over it and drew it to his chest.

It was, perhaps, a materialistic view of the evolution they were watching, but ownership had been, for many of the lowest castes, all they'd ever known, as immediate as their existence and yet distant as the stars. Soundwave's helm tilted in mild inquiry, inviting Ravage to consider the point.

[Ravage]

Ravage's tail did a low, long motion across the beam, back and forth. He rested in complete silence throughout Soundwave's gesturing explanation. When the mech opened his hand, the cat's nose stretched towards the holographic elements; they reflected along the curving sweep of his glossy forehead and played across the narrow chest.

He remembered. Halls and places. Being owned once, a pet. However, Ravage never remembered crossing into awareness though, it was simply - it had always been there. Maybe not to the extent that it was now, with eons of memories behind him. Sitting at the foot of a heavy throne, his tail wound around him. Nighstalker across from him. Dark statues, one sleek, one heavy, his thick plates guarding his structural weak points of throat and chest and shoulder.

One who sniffed, listened, warned, who followed the drifts of words among the mechs as easily as he did scent. The other to simply stand his grown fight it back. No finesse needed. Teeth and weaponry, hold and defend.

Hours. Days. Decades. More. Sit and listen. Your post is at my feet.

There is change coming.

We don't need changes. Confusion, and the yellow eyes turned to him. Jaws opened; massive silver fangs glinted. Things are fine like they are.

No they are coming to places where violence is imminent. Corruption. This government does not serve the masses. We serve them. They are not interested in change, nor thought. They want mindless servants, and we are not mindless. We are not their pets.

Well, some of them are. Huff of air, a laugh. Some of them are.

No. Ravage's ears tilted back to lay flush against the curve of his skull.

They are merely done being lied to.

The sharp angles of the cat's optics watched as the holograms faded into nothing, leaving only an empty palm before him. The lowest rise by becoming aware that they are owned. To own something, to possess it, to collect and hoard these things until your awareness blossomed. This is mine and I will struggle to keep it so, and then I must think to keep it safe, and then I think to keep myself safe... Self awareness is survival.

Soundwave's general thoughts on the matter agreed with his own. Like him, he had been created to be nothing, and he had stepped forward on the path to something. This conversation resonated within him.

"Agreed," he murmured, and settled his paws across one another again. "I suppose someday the pattern will be clear to both of us. Or it never will, and that is a mystery I would accept. Some mysteries are better staying so."

A chuckle purred again out of his chest. "I know. That is odd coming from me. You understand."

[Deleted]

Soundwave's field, usually no more than another layer of the 'Nemesis" own electronic presence, rippled with ghostly amusement for the briefest, most minute of spark-pulses. One hand gestured elegantly to point at the cat, then at his own audials, and lifted in inquiry. Ravage, not seek out mysteries? Never!

His legs unfolded, and he let them hang from the edge of the beam that served as seat for both of them. His hands came to rest on the upper armor panels. In response to the motion Laserbeak suddenly swung upwards and circled them once, then dove down again. The game had gone from 'the shadows are lava' to a tossing and re-capturing of some small, fluttering scrap of... something.

Soundwave pointed lightly at Ravage, then tapped his own chest with two talons, and nodded. He tapped the side of his helm and then cupped both hands, creating an imaginary sphere that he expanded gracefully. The matter... intrigued him, and it was not given to him to let questions go unanswered. But he could acknowledge that the birth of sentience was just too vast and expansive a matter for just one mech or two to solve, particularly when so many other, more immediate concerns always drew their attention away.

To that somewhat difficult admission, he shrugged in an oddly sheepish way. He did understand; he was in the same situation, of wanting answers that were not just difficult to find but potentially beyond one spark and one mind's understanding.

And, in any case, the conversation had become far too serious for time when they could be otherwise relaxing. With a light wave of his hand he invited Ravage to offer his own gossipinformation tidbits. Not everything among them had to be life-threatening espionage, after all.

[Ravage]

Ravage shifted his hind legs and rolled onto his flank. His tail swished comfortably behind him for a second; the tip brushed along the beam a few times and stirred up a mote of dust. His optics focused on the bird; and then he lifted a lazy paw and outstretched it as if to take a friendly swipe at Laserbeak from a a distance.

A chuckle escaped him, as he turned his head and looked back at Soundwave. Silently, his ears rotated. He resettled his paws on the beam, letting both of them dangle over the edge as much as Soundwave had; relax and quiet. No, sentience was too heavy of a subject at the moment, as much as Ravage appreciated these sorts of discussions, today didn't feel like one of those days, even to him.

He simply nodded and returned the shrug. A lift and roll of the cat's shoulders. "I suppose it is one of those things we simply will return to in time. When we have it. Someday."

"But ah, yes... hmm, the gossip?" he agreed, and opened his jaws in a fanged smile. "Let me think. Usually the most I have is about Fairwinds and her latest candy extravaganza experiment that perhaps has created an issue in the bottom of her cupboard..."

[Deleted]

In response to the gradual relaxation he could physically catalogue from his little cohort, Laserbeak had slowly altered his own behavior to more and more sedate flight patterns. Though he was nowhere near that reaching paw he still went through an entirely useless and utterly lazy barrel roll, twittering idle data at them both about wind currents and temperature shifts in the vast chamber before simply settling to circle their position at minimum speed.

Soundwave's helm tilted down and shook briefly, the gesture universally associated with those who hear of the mischief a friend's offspring has gotten up to. Megatron and Fairwinds had what many onboard the 'Nemesis' thought was a strange and mismatched partnership, but Soundwave found it exceedingly fitting and very useful to them both. Fairwinds, through all the 3IC had seen of both of them, never failed to achieve something even Megatron's meteoric rise to power and absolute control of the Decepticons never did: she both made him smile and drove him to explosive annoyance - sometimes simultaneously.

It was those brief, surprising little hiccups of emotion, sneaking up on one like fireflies in the dark, that kept one alive through the bleakness of the War. Soundwave believed they would win nothing if Megatron was not there, at the end, as himself rather than a hollow war-shell.

He could, however, entertain himself with mental images of what Megatron's face might have looked on finding whatever mess the cassette had made of her off-dock dwelling.

He lifted one talon. The sizzling, unmistakable sound of acid dripping on, or perhaps through, something drifted from him. He lifted a second talon to the squelching, entirely unpleasant sounds of something (or someone) attempting escape from an all-too-sticky substance. His head cocked in question, the bare ghost of his field quietly amused.

[Ravage]

Ravage's red optics rested on the lazy spiral from Laserbeak and he chuckled again. A game, then. He would no more strike the bird drone than it would dive at him. His ears pricked up at the data Laserbeak was feeding back; nothing out of the ordinary that might drive him to lift himself onto his feet and inspect the area once more.

"Oh, she has gotten herself stuck in it several times," Ravage agreed, with a soft huff. He relaxed his jaws even more and let his forepaws dangle over the edge of the beam in quiet comfort. Honestly, Fairwinds was an interesting combination with Lord Megatron, but... he agreed it was not a bad one. While he and Soundwave were-- ah, colleagues of time and very similar in many ways...

Fairwinds was Lord Megatron's opposite in more than one. Ravage had always felt that was the best; her antics and behavior kept... well, if he had to put a name to it, it kept the mech from sinking too deep into problems that no aspect of his sheer power, intellect, or determination could solve. Those lonely spaces where really, you had no one to turn to. Fairwinds kept him focused on things that were outside that spiral.

Such as the cabinet she occupied in his quarters.

"Yes, it has melted through at least twice that I know of," he agreed. "It gets fixed, she makes something in some odd flavor for ah- spice, I do believe. Then leaves it for something rather shiny and the process repeats itself."

"I am rather surprised that her experiments have not become as hotly contested as the Pokemon card. The gummy candies are interesting. Have you tried one at all?"

[Deleted]

Ah, well then. That's where the extra-strength cleaning supplies and minor repair requisitions went to. While their Lord might do some repairing himself, the supplies still had to come and go on writing, and Soundwave was not so crass as to spy on his liege.

Well, not without a halfway passable excuse. Or unless he needed it. For his own good.

Soundwave ran the tips of his talons on a slow staccato over the side of his helm. He was, in a very real sense, wondering what went through the mind of Fairwinds, even though he could make a perfectly educated guess of it. Still, after you've stapled yourself a few times to the bottom of your living quarters, or melted the bottom out of the same, one is allowed to wonder if the lesson could penetrate at all.

Overall it just told the 3IC he ought to put some reinforced paneling somewhere where Lord Megatron could find it. That big mountain of stubborn would never ask for it.

At Ravage's question, Soundwave turned to look at him and shook his head briefly. He was rarely if ever approached by the rank-and-file; a byproduct of his station. Fairwinds, for all that she was partnered with their liege lord, had no trouble shedding the cloak of rank to mingle with the Vehicons, but the slender, dark mech did not possess the... effervescence that powered such a thing. All he knew of the lives of the Vehicons came to him through his endless observations and calculations. From all he'd seen the cassette doled out her experiments with a miser's hand, and they appeared to be hoarded with no less greed.

In so many ways, the 'Nemesis was a whole, vast little city, and as ever he found himself watching rather than belonging. At least this time it was from choice.

The maudlin tone his thoughts might take was cast aside with familiar skill, mainly because he wasn't sure he wanted to be offered a gummy from such... dubious origins. The tilt of his helm became wary for all that he was still amused.