[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Format (Closed for now)
Dec 5, 2020 0:20:04 GMT -5
Post by Optimus Prime on Dec 5, 2020 0:20:04 GMT -5
Good. The Helicopter had departed.
Optimus eyed the direction MECH had seemingly retreated a moment, making certain they were not looping around to try to come at a new angle, before looking back to the issue at hand.
There had been hope upon seeing Ratchet that something would go right this day, that their confused friend would offer some kind of tentative trust if his mind truly had been erased... Perhaps seeing them eye to eye would kindle something that may linger in his processor. Remind him of so many countless years of interaction, convey a feeling of familiarity even if specific memories or names could not be applied to it. Instead, Optimus and Bumblebee found themselves now staring down two blades that were drawn against them. Or, more mainly... drawn against Optimus.
Weaponry of such kind was not a concern to the Prime, a worry and fear of melee attacks, especially those of blades, becoming numb across time and War. He was not dead to it, he would not cast it aside as a non-issue or get arrogant, yet the fact he had means to fight back and retaliate with experience at his side made it all hazed over. Because of this, Ratchet's motion did not make Optimus shy away or show apprehensive fear. Instead, he felt a twang of pain seeing his old friend look upon him with such distrust and fear.
He was grateful his battle mask was still up so that the softer saddened pull at the corner of his mouth was obscured.
Cyan optics flicked down to watch as Bumblebee scurried over to try to defend him, the small mech making a direct barrier between them in case Ratchet decided to go on the offense instead of continuing to flee. For a fleeting moment he thought about replying, tried to consider what words would be most beneficial in this scenario to try to earn some kind of trust, but before he could do so, the Ground Bridge roared active, his helm crooking to look its way.
If Ratchet was truly lost, the Bridge could be terrifying.
"You may not recognize us, Ratchet, but I implore you to believe that your safety is our first concern."
Pained words, Optimus looked upon the other Cybertronian over Bumblebee, his gaze still softer and sad. The fact he had his sword drawn seemed to not even be a concern, the weapon pointed to the side having not been moved up in any way in response to the threat against him. All the blade seemed to do was be a means to hold onto netting that was torn into and damaged badly, water dripping out of mechanics.
"MECH may not be deterred for long. We must depart."
A soft plea.
Optimus hoped that Ratchet would stand down and comply. They could not afford to wait around and have a long discussion about this, they couldn’t hold out a hand and casually chat beyond a few words about how they were here to help, and how they were the equivalent to family and a team. Dependent on how lost Ratchet's mind was, they couldn’t even afford to have to try to explain what a 'family' even was. With every fleeting moment the foot soldiers may grow nearer, or the helicopter personnel may decide they needed to take a second swing at things. There was also a risk of civilians being curious to the nonsense, taking on an active 'reporter' effort to get their moment of fame.
They were not in the vast wilderness.
They were in a streaked outcrop of trees and a natural formed stream that was deemed too troublesome to try to build over.
Ratchet had to trust them. He simply had to take that leap of faith and walk through the Ground Bridge portal with them. If he did not? If he decided he simply could not trust them? Well, Optimus feared he would need to take matters into his own hands. While Ratchet was not a small Cybertronian, and had good strength and a stocky frame with a lower center of gravity... the Prime would find a way to forcibly remove him from this environment.
Optimus eyed the direction MECH had seemingly retreated a moment, making certain they were not looping around to try to come at a new angle, before looking back to the issue at hand.
There had been hope upon seeing Ratchet that something would go right this day, that their confused friend would offer some kind of tentative trust if his mind truly had been erased... Perhaps seeing them eye to eye would kindle something that may linger in his processor. Remind him of so many countless years of interaction, convey a feeling of familiarity even if specific memories or names could not be applied to it. Instead, Optimus and Bumblebee found themselves now staring down two blades that were drawn against them. Or, more mainly... drawn against Optimus.
Weaponry of such kind was not a concern to the Prime, a worry and fear of melee attacks, especially those of blades, becoming numb across time and War. He was not dead to it, he would not cast it aside as a non-issue or get arrogant, yet the fact he had means to fight back and retaliate with experience at his side made it all hazed over. Because of this, Ratchet's motion did not make Optimus shy away or show apprehensive fear. Instead, he felt a twang of pain seeing his old friend look upon him with such distrust and fear.
He was grateful his battle mask was still up so that the softer saddened pull at the corner of his mouth was obscured.
Cyan optics flicked down to watch as Bumblebee scurried over to try to defend him, the small mech making a direct barrier between them in case Ratchet decided to go on the offense instead of continuing to flee. For a fleeting moment he thought about replying, tried to consider what words would be most beneficial in this scenario to try to earn some kind of trust, but before he could do so, the Ground Bridge roared active, his helm crooking to look its way.
If Ratchet was truly lost, the Bridge could be terrifying.
"You may not recognize us, Ratchet, but I implore you to believe that your safety is our first concern."
Pained words, Optimus looked upon the other Cybertronian over Bumblebee, his gaze still softer and sad. The fact he had his sword drawn seemed to not even be a concern, the weapon pointed to the side having not been moved up in any way in response to the threat against him. All the blade seemed to do was be a means to hold onto netting that was torn into and damaged badly, water dripping out of mechanics.
"MECH may not be deterred for long. We must depart."
A soft plea.
Optimus hoped that Ratchet would stand down and comply. They could not afford to wait around and have a long discussion about this, they couldn’t hold out a hand and casually chat beyond a few words about how they were here to help, and how they were the equivalent to family and a team. Dependent on how lost Ratchet's mind was, they couldn’t even afford to have to try to explain what a 'family' even was. With every fleeting moment the foot soldiers may grow nearer, or the helicopter personnel may decide they needed to take a second swing at things. There was also a risk of civilians being curious to the nonsense, taking on an active 'reporter' effort to get their moment of fame.
They were not in the vast wilderness.
They were in a streaked outcrop of trees and a natural formed stream that was deemed too troublesome to try to build over.
Ratchet had to trust them. He simply had to take that leap of faith and walk through the Ground Bridge portal with them. If he did not? If he decided he simply could not trust them? Well, Optimus feared he would need to take matters into his own hands. While Ratchet was not a small Cybertronian, and had good strength and a stocky frame with a lower center of gravity... the Prime would find a way to forcibly remove him from this environment.