We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
Finale’s purple optics never left the newcomer as she approached. As the larger, and newest one, he was more likely to be the threat. It was unlikely their CMO would be an unstable killer, and the other seemed too injured right now to be much threat. So, she watched Downfall.
She observed him as he observed her, remaining silent.
Finale came to a stop a short distance away – near enough to hear normal conversation, out of arm’s reach should it be needed. Keeping her palm resting on her sword hilts, she listened as he spoke.
Silently approving of Knock Out’s quick introduction of himself, she inwardly nodded. Let the newcomer know right away who held rank – it was more likely to put him at ease. There was nothing worse than not knowing who to direct your questions to.
Her optics flicked towards the other one again. Flatline, he was called. Even from here she could sense a sort of....irritation? Anxiety? Was he actually grinding his denta? There was a reason beyond feeling helpless, she was certain.
Interesting.
Her optics moved back to Downfall as he suddenly rose to his feet, easing back into a standing form. She didn’t move, though her hands tightened on her sword hilts for a fraction of a second, then ease as he spoke.
Gaze flicking back and forth between Downfall and Knock Out, she continued to remain still, and observe.
The flicker of the fliers field was not lost on Knock Out, but he also wouldn’t dwell on the sudden change or bring attention to it. He’d no doubt have reacted the same should someone sneak up on him from an unknown location, so he couldn’t judge too much.
As Downfall rose to his pedes, it was then that Knock Out realized just how large he was. His facial features were rather strange, he noticed. No optics to speak of, nor a visor like a Vehicon. Instead, a metal band lay across where his optics should’ve been - and with that came questions. Questions of course that Knock Out was too polite to ask out here in the company of others, and so he would remain quiet as the newcomer began to speak.
“Discomfort? No, not at all! We were made aware of your arrival and made our way here to assist where we could. Glad to see you are unharmed and in one piece!”
He really was thankful for it, but probably for the wrong reasons. Anything to get himself out of more work - but then again with newcomers came stories and fascinating tales. Even if there wasn’t much work medically to be done, a checkup would still be in order. Maybe then he could find out about the facial aesthetic choice, as it hadn’t quite clicked yet.
“I am sorry you lost your team. Given the nature of this planet, you will have to come with us back to Blackridge - the current base of operation for the Decepticon forces.” he gave a hum of thought, before quickly adding “Long story. Although once you’re situated and rested, maybe we can try to contact your team should you want to.”
His gaze would shift with Downfall’s, and Knock Out would glance over his shoulder to Flatline - good, he was still there - and then to Finale, before back to the taller flier.
“Threat?” He blinked.
He thought back. Uuhh…
“Oh! The alien conspiracy thing I mentioned over the comm?” he laughed at that “Well, I was mostly joking with that so you’d land, but now that you mention it…”
Nothing like landing on a new, scary planet to find out that there was a terrifying threat after all! At least he was in good company!
Well, mostly.
“There are a group here on this planet called MECH. Nasty bunch of fleshbags, seem to find joy in torturing and dismantling Cybertronian. I suppose this is as good a time as any to inform you that because of this violent group of natives, there’s a… truce between Decepticons and Autobots. Temporary, I assure you! But uh, for now, we’re all friends!”
Things really did seem inert at the moment, all of Flatline's insecurities and worries starting to turn around and become completely unfounded. Or rather... they didn’t 'become' unfounded, considering they were unfounded from the get go all things considered... The new mech had taken on a far more passive stance, and was conversing openly with no apparent lying or trickery as far as Flatline was able to pick up on from his vantage point. While he was no master manipulator and couldn't read the smallest of details in others with pinpoint accuracy, he liked to think he was good enough to have known if this was some kind of trick and Knock Out was about to get his head clobbered clean off his frame.
It was nauseating feeling so paranoid, it was something Flatline didn't like at all... he used to be confident and bold! He felt strong enough in the past to talk back and assert himself should the moment be fit, but the latest events had clipped him completely off his game. He had to try to fight it though; Knock Out wasn't going to order his execution! So, now that things seemed to be civil, Flatline eased forward, claws scraping off bark as they slipped off from the trees side, causing the trunk to bow slightly as he pushed away towards the others after Knock Out spoke of MECH.
"They are more than just chop shop rats however..."
Flatline's voice grumbled out as he approached the other three, tone almost gritty with a subtle growl that snaked beneath his 'breath'. Each hobbled step was sharp, followed by a partial drag as his previously crippled leg lagged behind some, leaving grooves in the frozen ground. He wasn't advancing with any sort of haste; his helm raising a bit as red optics settled over to take in what details would become more visible as he got closer.
"Despite their size, they can take down even large Cybertronian who stray alone."
Breakdown was a prime example of that. For all of his power and strength, for all he could do and how much damage he could belt out with his hammer, in the end it was useless and he was lucky to get away from it all only missing a single optic. With this comment, Flatline's free hand pulled up, gesturing with a roll of the wrist in Knock Out and Finale's direction with a borderline flippant motion. It was a clipped flick, before his long arm looped back down to his side.
"Hence the group."
A lower grumble, casting a sideways glance at Finale. He knew the femme would be joining them, but he had yet to get a good look at her, having not met her before this adventure. From a shadow snaking through the trees, to someone out in the open, his gaze ran over quickly to see what sort of weapons she may call her own, his attention settling on her swords which were an interesting choice. While Flatline was not as enamored with weaponry as others in their faction, there was always some interest in plainly visible weaponry to make a statement. If foes could see what you MAY use, sometimes it could deter, which is why he opted for harpoons which looked so barbaric, though, he had yet to get those back... the turrets on either side of his spinal strut looking more like laser cannons than harpoon slots at this point.
There was no movement, no shift in his field nor any other visible sign that could indicate of any outward felt emotion as the other began to speak. Though, the big flier was actually very thankful to receive such a detailed, and open minded answer from the medic, one which wasn't paired with demands or false arrogance.
Knock Out surely seemed like one of the more friendlier individuals among the Decepticon ranks, a welcoming personality Downfall could admire without having to be mindful of any sort of consequences.
However, the big flier lifted his helm some, looking up into the sky at the next phrasing, thinking.
He surely hadn't expected such kindness, and was thrown off-guard at the sudden offer to reach out to the stars in order to contact his superiors, and friends. It surely put the jets mind at ease, knowing that he now would be able to at least let them know that he was okay, and maybe even report back to assure them that others were still fighting for their cause.
“Thank you. I appreciate your offer, and would like to make use of it in the foreseeable future, sir.”
Though, the mentioning of an organic race opposing a serious threat to their kind quickly led him to hum in thought, tilting his helm back to look down at the medic.
This was definitely a first, at least for him. While he had interacted with quite a few alien races before, Downfall had never been in a position where he had found himself at a disadvantage, nor could think of any encounter where another race outranked them in their technology.
But what truly caught his attention, was the ensuing of a truce between factions.
A result of said threat?
This was getting weird, but interesting at the same time. Nonetheless, the flier wasn't above voicing his concerns, and would merely accept the facts for now. He was confident that, with enough time, they would allow him to know more, and maybe fill him in on such details.
He was just about to answer, when he heard an unfamiliar voice speak up. With a slow, yet determined turn of his frame his helm tilted towards the approaching mech. Ah, the one who had been hiding at the tree lines...
The first thing Downfall could notice were the jerking movements, which seemed unnatural and overall 'forced'. While he could not actually 'see' the reason behind those movements or determine the mech's visuals in general, he wasn't one to ask either. Figuring that whatever it was, it surely had its reason.
“I understand. My designation is Downfall, sir. And it is my pleasure to meet you.”
He responded calmly and dipped his helm in respect before turning his attention back to Knock Out.
“Then may I assume that, by referring to this organic threat, you mean a certain type of creature? I am afraid to report, that I can not pick up any aggressive behavior from the locals currently present.”
This question, this statement was spoken carefully, with no intention to question the medic in general, nor his knowledge. Downfall did not wish to upset the other in any way, not after all the gracious offers he'd received.
Finale continued to watch Downfall, her purple optics scanning him closely. Her face seemed impassive - not so much that she was bored, but rather she had no real feelings one way or the other. Her forearms rested comfortably against the hilts of her swords, and she stood at ease.
Hearing Downfall speak, she did not answer. The question had been asked of KnockOut, and therefore not her place to speak. Not yet.
Finale was privately amused at the medic’s use of the word friends. While she wasn’t averse to having companions, she felt it was far too early yet to call anyone a friend. She had learned a while ago not to be eager to make friends of other Decepticons - sometimes she was hired to kill them.
Of course, that was before she gained enough skill to earn the right to pick and choose her contracts. For not, at least, Finale decided she was looking for a more stable place to exist.
She found she approved of Downfall so far. He appeared smart enough to show respect to his superiors, even if they were smaller, and had yet to make a single, boring, pointless boast.
Glancing away for a moment, Finale noticed Flatline scanning her.
Remaining still as ever, the assassin waited to see if the mech would make optic contact with her. If so, a single, amused arching of an optic ridge would be her only response, a slight curling of her lips.
Knock Out would shift his weight as Flatline commented, nodding in agreement to show that what the black and red mech was saying was indeed, fact.
It was hard to describe MECH to those who didn’t know about the natives - honestly, if he hadn’t seen their work first hand, he’d find it hard to believe that mere organics could inflict such damage, or be that ruthless. Then again, there were dangers throughout the universe and it wasn’t surprising that such a humble planet such as Earth had a threat of its own.
One thing Flatline said he did disagree with, but his expression would remain neutral, showing no hint of this. Knock Out and Finale could’ve handled this new arrival on their own with zero issue, but Flatline was still on shaky ground when it came to the Decepticons, and for now, Knock Out had been tasked with babysitting him, almost.
That, and he didn’t trust Flatline alone in the Medical Bay back at Blackridge. Even if his once sassy rival had become considerably meek and withdrawn, given their past rivalry he didn’t want to risk anything.
As Downfall spoke and stated his designation, Knock Out would bob his head in return. Any moment now he hoped the Vehicon’s would ping back with confirmation of the identification codes the other mech had sent earlier, but for now Knock Out saw no reason for him to lie.
“The pleasure is all mine!” honestly he was thankful that it wasn’t another crashlanding - those were always a hassle, with mountains of paperwork that came with them. Downfall had been lucky, arriving on his own power and seemingly uninjured.
“As for your question, I refer to the natives here on this planet. Humans. MECH are only a small group but we are uncertain as to their exact numbers, or how widespread they actually are.”
A hum of thought, a click of his tongue. 'Humans' wasn’t really... descriptive. Earth had many lifeforms and species, and while the fleshbags were the dominant species, for a newcomer? That didn’t mean much at all.
“Humans are- mm.” how to even describe them? “Bipedal, small. Annoying and everywhere, like Glitch Mice.” the unamused sneer on his faceplate coming through in his words. “Tend to congregate in cities, as an aerial type you shouldn’t have reason to deal with them, however, so that’s a silver lining I’m sure!” he laughed.
Another shift of his weight, lifting one pede from the mud and stepping down in a slightly different spot so he didn’t get too filthy. He kept his attention on the newcomer but would quietly open a comm to Flatline.
::Flatline, can you get those Vehicons to hurry up with verifying those codes? I’m getting filthy out here, and the sooner we can get back the better.::
The look Flatline had given Finale was a passive one. Quick scan over to see what she even looked like, pick out recognizable traits to be able to identify at a glance later on, observe the visible weaponry that were prominently shown... It really only took a brief moment of a casting glance, but evidently it had timed out poorly. At the last moment the femme's gaze locked with his as he scanned her features, causing Flatline's upper lip to curl slightly with a defensive reaction at being 'caught' looking her over. Not one to turn the opportunity into anything amusing nor make a comment, the black and red mech simply broke his line of sight and glanced back at Downfall, peering up at his perceived lack of optics.
Visors were common. Many used them to protect their eyes, while others used them to act AS their eyes if they didn't have a set of optics nestled behind them. The question here, was why it was such an opaque silver color.. One way mirrors, one way panels... it very well could just be an aesthetic choice, but it was uncommon, looking like a plate of metal which didn't make a whole lot of sense unless he had other sensors in play, which would be interesting to look into later if permitted.
Letting his processor drift a bit, Flatline was allowing himself to become more relaxed in the moment as conversations continued. Listening to what was said, thinking about what having another fighter meant for the team, where exactly they were going to try to store someone of his stature... but this drifting thought process was cut off when Knock Out opened a direct Com-Line, jolting him back awake and alert.
A slight flinch, a moment of worry and tension... red eyes snapped over to look at Knock Out, before he truly registered what was asked of him, and the fact it had been sent as a direct message and not something spoken aloud. It hadn't been a snarled demand, nor was he in trouble which was good, but after a brief moment he did realize Knock Out was being a whiney little child over his finish again. On an average day, Flatline would have snarled back something sarcastic, maybe been tempted to kick a small chunk of tundra at him 'unintentionally', but right now he just didn't have the energy to go to battle in even the smallest of fights.
::Understood::
Easing his weight back some, Flatline's gaze shifted off to the side as he focused on trying to get in contact with base. To notify to the others that were present that he was actually doing something, and not drifting away mentally and dozing out, he lifted his right primary and gently placed two talons along the side of his helm, as if activating a radio. It was what he understood, a pretty universal motion of 'on the phone' or other things, pairing it with a further shift of his body as he settled down, leaning heavily on his makeshift cane.
Around them, the temperature had fallen below zero already. Chilling air whipped past them by now, dominating over the late evening with ease. Of course it wasn't as cold as it may felt like, but even the green jet's heavy frame was affected by the new atmosphere he found himself in. Droplets of condensed water was forming onto his frame, rolling down and dropping to the ground before being absorbed by earth and mud.
“Understood.”
It was the only reply he had to offer.
If their medic found it 'difficult' to explain what humans were, then he would ask no more, hoping to receive those information once he'd been able to establish a more solid position within this group.
For now? He remained as silent as ever, processing every bit of information that had been given to him.
Once this had been done, the big flier turned his attention to Flatline. His helm canting down as to watch him closely, seizing him up and observing every movement that accompanied the other mech. He simply watched, unfazed while keeping track of the silent 'I am busy' motion. Whatever it was he was doing, Downfall would not interrupt and instead turn his attention to the smaller femme then.
“Pardon my curiosity, but I do n-”
The sentence was cut off then, abruptly coming to a halt as his attention shifted from the small Decepticon towards the dark tree-line behind her.
What followed after was a quick movement, one so unnatural for such a big frame like his; Downfall's posture became rigid before pulling himself up to his full height again, wings flared out in alarm as his right servo shot forward, pointing over and behind the femme should she not move. This movement was accompanied by the distinct sound of transformation, metal plates shifting around to rearrange each other anew until his right arm formed into a weapon. A faint low humming sound occurred as the weapon slowly charged up, yellow lighting glowing faintly as it did so.
This action however, was not addressed at any of the Cybertronians currently present. It neither was out of aggression or hostility, but it was clearly a defensive stance he currently found necessary to uphold. All his attention shifted as he simply stared into the black.
Remaining quiet, Finale watched as Flatline seemed to appear irritated at her attempted humor. Again, she found this interesting. There was more to this mech, she felt, than she was seeing. And again, she wondered why he was limping? If he were wounded, why bring him along? His form was so odd as it was....
Bemused, she watched as Knock Out, lifted a leg, looking disgustedly at the mud and muck gathered at the bottom. His high gloss was obvious, even here, and she glanced away to avoid her grin from being seen.
From the corner of her optic, she watched as Flatline raised a hand, making it obvious he was contacting someone...the base, perhaps?
Her attention was taken to Downfall as he began to address her....and then suddenly shifting as he raised his head slightly, seeming to look at something behind her.
Amusement gone, Finale turned, hands going to the sheaths protruding from her hips, as she sought to focus on what Downfall was seeing.
Shifting from pede to pede, Knock Out realized it was pretty much a waiting game now. Flatline had to get through to the base and contact whichever Vehicon it was that’d been assigned the duty of confirming the newcomer's codes. It could take seconds, it could take a few minutes.
Hopefully not too long, though. He was all for making small talk, but the whole situation and those present not really contributing anything of value to possible conversation… maybe it’d be easier to stay quiet and simply wait it out.
As the newcomer turned his attention to Finale, Knock Out would cast a glance back and over at Flatline. Only once Downfall’s sentence was cut off midway, did he turn his attention back to see what was going on.
The tension in the tall fliers frame was easy to spot, and it seemed he was looking at something - or someone - past Finale. Knock Out couldn’t see anything from here, but there was a sound of transformation then that made him wish that maybe he could.
Uuuuh what was going on?
Finale pulled both weapons then, and it was then that Knock Out started to panic some. He hadn’t come out here to get attacked! Was it an Autobot out there? There was a Truce! Primus how he wished he had some sort of ranged weapon.
At least he was between whatever it was, Finale, and the immense frame of the other Mech - meaning if he had to run? He’d get a pretty good headstart before those two were taken out. And with Flatline the cripple? He'd outrun him, too! Ha-HA!
“Something the matter?” he asked meekly. He didn’t want to side-step so he could get a better view, that meant he’d be in possible view of whatever it was that was out there, and he wasn’t about that! Nope!
Flatline was no fighter. He didn't really have means to defend himself other than some cobbled together surgical tools turned weapon, and his harpoons that were more for intimidation than actual function. He could try to look intimidating, but that ability had been lost the moment he became injured and lost his two spear like weapons in the darkness of the Nemesis. Despite this, habit was habit, and as Downfall directed his ire at some kind of unseen threat, Flatline lurched violently, breaking off from listening to the Vehicon's response, and nearly dropping his cane.
A sharp movement, a turn of his frame as a hoof like ped gored into the earth at an unnatural angle... Flatline nearly fell over as he spun around to aim in the same direction as the larger mech, his broad shoulders squaring off, while the turrets that were mounted above them whirled and snapped down into a targeting position, despite the fact he had nothing to fire. This pose that was rather confrontational and mimicked power and capability, was fleeting, only momentary, before the pain of his fast movement caught up to him and he hissed out a faint sound of discomfort. Leg twitching and collapsing somewhat, he bared his weight more onto the cane he clutched onto to will himself not to fall over.
What was being aimed at? What was out there? Flatline didn't know of local animal species at all beyond some of the most basic, and that was only heard in passing and idle commentary... He wondered if MECH was THAT prompt in locating this new mech... but it couldn't be?
"Downfall got his codes approved, so if we are looking to depart..."
Trailing off...
In truth, he only heard part of the Vehicons reply before he was startled into thinking he had to fight at that exact moment, but he heard enough to believe that everything was A-OK and that the large Cybertronian was indeed one of their own. Maybe they would be able to slide through a Space Bridge portal before needing to confront something?... then again, they had Downfall AND Finale now, and Knock Out technically could fight.... probably... so he shouldn’t be so trigger happy nervous, but when he only had a circular saw and his claws to his name, it was still a bit unnerving.
The yellow glow of the weapon began to grew in its light intensity, charging up with a deep and low humming sound to collect the energy inside the barrel. Downfall remained still as he pointed towards the dark tree line, focusing deeply on the moving branches that rattled in the wind.
The reactions and words spoken were lost to him as he tried to actually get a grasp of the motions within the forest.
The thick populated area was not taking any pity on him, clouding his vision with subtle motions and distinct sounds. But nonetheless, one sound, one movement stood out like a fire that bristled in a desert. It was bigger than a leave, thicker than a branch and it moved in a way that was so very different than the organic fiber that danced to the lead of nature.
The green jet couldn't decipher the object, the creature, the... 'thing' until it took off and shook the trees underneath its weight with one simple motion of its appendages. The sound of whipping feathers ripped through the air as it fled towards the sky. Its eyes bright and yellow against the darkness of the night before vanishing into the distance with its prey clutched between its claws.
Some would may find it cute, some would even be amazed at the delicate and acrobatic dance the owl displayed in the air. But for Downfall it was a big red flag that screamed at him to be careful. He did not know anything about the natives creatures... and was thankful for the small mercy it took on them as it decided to leave the alien beings alone.
A few moments later, Downfall lowered his weapon as it changed back to its original form. Just as fast as it had transformed, it now clipped back into place once more to rest at his side.
He did not move, nor spoke, but the tension of his frame was gone by now. His wings rested comfortable at his back and his field was now a calm haze that surrounded him. With a subtle movement he then turned to regard the others, noticing their startled postures. The big flier tilted his helm to look at each one of them before his visor rested in a blank and dull angle to stare at Flatline.
The weird looking mech seemed to be the one most affected by this as his movement screamed all too familiar signs of confusion and nerves being strained to their full capacity. It was sad to see someone so on edge, as if he was falling mentally apart. But what had caught his attention the most, was the hiss of pain the mech had given off. It was one short, perhaps not even notable chirp that still lingered somewhat between them, and Downfall regretted his actions immediately. He'd never wished to cause anybody harm, not even unintentional. And this mech seemed to be hurt, physically. Why, or how? He currently did not know.
He watched for a moment before he would address them.
“I apologise for my sudden actions. It was not my intention to cause any panic. But the organics of this planet, the aerial type creatures... they tend to get unpleasant.”
He tried to explain as he took a step towards the startled mech, slow and steady as to not cause any more harm. Then, with a faint apologetic pulse of his field, he reached out to offer his servo to Flatline. The gesture friendly and easy to understand, palm facing up to allow the mech to lay his own into it if he so wished.
Finale remained alert, optics scanning the area Downfall had been looking, and back to his face, searching for any sign, and indication as to what he had seen. She couldn’t help but notice the reactions of the other two.
Their reactions were more…relaxed, yet still wary. They were probably far more accustomed to the local wildlife here than either herself or the newcomer, but from what she had heard about MECH, she felt a little more alarm might have been called for on their parts.
Dark purple optics snapped back to the forest as movement caught her attention, and she focused in on some sort of avian creature as it took flight. For a few seconds she remained utterly still, scanning and watching it as it departed. Obviously not a threat, but she wanted to record it’s appearance in her processor in case she came across another. Just because it was small didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous.
Relaxing her grip on the sheaths of her swords, she turned back to the others, turning her back on the strange creature. She would have to seek a name for it later.
Finale wondered what Downfall meant by “unpleasant”.
"This world is still strange to myself and Downfall, and we are not accustomed as to what constitutes...normal wildlife. My apologies."
Last Edit: Feb 19, 2019 19:03:45 GMT -5 by Deleted
The tension was building, just like the yellow glow of the weapon. Meanwhile, Knock Out’s processor was racing. If it were an Autobot, surely one of them would picked it up on their scanners? If it were one of the newcomer's companions that he’d said he’d lost, somehow tracking him down here? He wouldn’t have been so quick to pull a weapon, surely.
If it were MECH, well - he doubted that. There’d been no crashlanding, nothing that could set off their scanners. And even if it was - could they have gotten here so quickly? Had they expanded that far? A scary thought. Terrifying, almost, but the likelihood was so slim!
Or so, Knock Out hoped.
Flatline spoke up from behind, but Knock Out barely heard him - too focused on what was happening in front of him. Between the four of them, they could probably handle a threat, even if it meant the cherry-red Mech fled into the distance and left the rest of them to handle it alone.
An answer came moments later with the sound of feathers cutting through the silent air - a bird of some sort, a predator. A good one at that, given it held prey between its talons.
But it wasn’t a threat to them.
Venting out a long, slow, sigh of relief, Knock Out would relax his frame. Shifting his weight and remaining quiet. He’d let Downfall speak first, let the bigger mech feel at ease - not wanting to speak while that weapon was charged and risk spooking the other mech into firing.
Luckily it didn’t take long for Downfall and Finale to settle, and as he was addressed, he’d smile cheerfully.
“No harm done! The organic life here on Earth comes in many forms, uh - thankfully they all leave us alone. So no need to worry there. As for unpleasant, the only thing I can think of is how their excrement absolutely ruins my paint job - easily fixed, I don’t park under trees!” he laughed at that, tapering off and awkwardly clearing his throat as the newcomer then made a step forward toward Flatline.
Uh.
Knock Out hummed softly in thought at that, sidestepping and allowing the other mech room to move - watching what was going on curiously.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2019 17:17:57 GMT -5 by Knock Out
Flatline did not even know that had been in the area, though... he hadn’t been listening for it.
So small, so subtle the noises had to have been previously before it took flight, it was a miracle Downfall even picked up on it to begin with. The ruffle of feathers, the soft flutter as it took to the sky with whatever unfortunate animal had been in its claws... The exact name for that animal was lost to Flatline, it not something that he researched past a fleeting glance, but he knew it was basically harmless to him. They were more threats to the flyers who could meet an unfortunate head on collision when rocketing at the ludicrous speeds they take on whenever they take flight.
But how had this flyer sensed it well before there were any sounds that Flatline could hear?
This thought was cast aside momentarily as the behemoth addressed him directly.
Oh no, WHY was the mech addressing him? Why was he approaching!?
Flatline's red eyes danced from Downfall's eyeless features, down to the open palm, then up to his face again, an incredulous and confused look as he did not understand the friendly gesture from another Decepticon. Pair this with the apology that seemed oddly earnest, and it was weird and foreign in a way that threw the black and red medic off his social balance. Most would likely cast him aside or laugh at his injury or flightiness, look down on how easily he hurt himself, or consider him worthless with his injury and just something to ignore... as such, the offer of help seemed borderline alien in a way, red eyes darting back down to the open palm as he gripped onto his cane a bit tighter, talons hooked over the metal post.
"Thank you I am fine."
Stiff, uncertain. While he didn't want to grab Downfall's hand, feeling it made him look weaker and even MORE feeble if he were to take the assistance of another to move again, he did know that coldly blocking him with such a frigid reply could be seen as rude and cause a poor first start. For all he knew he WOULD need the mech's aid in the future and he didn't need this event to tarnish that, even if the situation seemed weird to him.
"You have apt response times however, very prompt. Should there have been a true threat it would have undoubtedly been tended to swiftly."
A stilted but honest compliment, Flatline shifted his weight as he picked up his injured leg to take the burden off of it. A low roll of the joint, a slow stretch, the pronged hooves at the end of his narrow limb flared out with a soft grunt beneath his breath, before he settled them lightly back down onto the tundra below. He was trying to regain his composure and look normal again, turrets rocking back on their mounts to point back at the sky in a resting state, while helm lifted up a bit. His left hand cupped over the top of his cane, while right curled over the left, thumb claw nervously sliding along the other hand in a nervous movement that attention was pushed onto him.
He was trying to look more capable, less... hindered, but they all had to know it was a front, a self conscious response to being called out.
"Please, don't let me distract..."
Spoken professionally, feigning some of the older confidence he felt before the Nemesis crashed. After he said this, he cast his gaze to Finale then Knock Out, before looking at Downfall's visor again... thinking, putting the facts together gradually, and what this entailed.