[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Trial and Error [Closed]

[Cintra]

Episode 3 | Week 3 | Day 2

Settling in... That idea came in a few forms.

To the meek, aloof and secluded, this could invoke an idea of finding one's own niche or hovel. A small space, a little bed and area of comfort to escape others. Said area and place where belongings could be laid to rest without overt threat of them being brushed away like they may have been in an open room that all inhabitants occupied. On the other side of the coin, you had the overt social individuals. Their idea of settling in meant getting to know others more so than finding their own little place of comfort. Making their name heard, pushing into the open to stand tall and implant oneself into the team aggressively...

Cintra wasn't far from the latter, but she took a different approach.

Trying to be remembered, trying to be the center of attention, none of that really mattered. It sometimes was simply a side effect of her garish paint making her stand out, and her aggressively in-your-face approach to life drawing eyes her way in a lot of scenarios. No. She did not actively seek such things, but what she did seek was to instantly start to weave a framework of security, a means to aid in not only her own survival, but the survival of others she teamed up with.

The pink femme's life often depended upon having a 'host' for a lack of better terms. Not too much a teammate in the sense of fighting side by side to support and augment, as much as actively gripping on and becoming an extension of their frame for combat assistance. While she could rely on Flux, for they worked often borderline seamlessly as a duo in combat, Cintra recognized that he may not ALWAYS be at her side, and she had to practice and get to know some of the larger inhabitants of the outpost. It was this goal that set the femme off on a mission this day.

A tap scuttle of smaller peds, a scramble down hallways, stopping only so long to peek through a door and scan over inhabitants... A lot of the individuals that she saw were not really the ideal size. While she could piggyback on most, if their scales were too similar, she would be more of a burden than an aid, throwing their balance and flow off. She had a very specific shape in mind, and as such the takkity running would continue until she head the sound of a Space Bridge roaring open. Sharply, her helm crooked up, before she ran in the direction of the Control Room.

A skid, a crackled scrape of feet sliding against the floor... Cintra rocketed into the archway to the room so fast she almost slid right past it in the process of stopping. Luckily her right hand swung out, slamming against the frame to halt her momentum as the long extrusion from the back of her helm and shoulders whipped around with a snap to further stop her movement. It was then orange eyes settled on an individual she had not seen yet, processing the other femme in an instant.

She wasn’t recognizable, no overt records or speeches down back in Cybertron that Cintra remembered, so she possibly wasn't a commander of some kind... so a more informal approach was probably alright without insulting too badly. She was tall and broad, solid footing and build, large wings spanned out on either side which would provide ample surface area to grip and move with... It seemed like a prime opportunity and as such Cintra's left hand that wasn't on the door swung out, pointing sharply at Coldwind.

"YOU."

A growled lower word, decisive and bold with the confidence as if she had been told to yell at Coldwind by Megatron himself. This tone snapped to a more cheery approach a second later.

"You look like a discerning lady who is a fan of combat and the more unruly things in life!"

Pushing off the wall, Cintra's hands clapped together, pointers extended while the others were woven. She flicked this grip down as she spoke, walking towards the drab blue colored lady that could really do with a makeover. Though, that was not the goal this day. Whatever the case, she continued to speak, not really 'coming up for air' to let the Jet interject instantly, her words flowing together rapid fire.

"I'm combat assist Cintra! I want to practice working as a team while you punch my Boi."

[Coldwind]

The Seeker stood alone in a field of poppy flowers, no civilization for miles around. Just her and the hollow gales which played an innocent song with the boughs of distant trees. It was quiet for a while. At least until a scintillating gateway opened. The seafoam rift in the fabric of reality was a bridge back home. This is where Coldwind's patrol ended.

She sighed.

Another disappointing day. No thrill to lift the mood, no Autobots to beg for mercy.

Earth was turning out to be an insufferably dull planet. Beyond her encounter with Rain, Coldwind had little opportunity to face the enemy. And Rain herself provided pitifully little sport. There was no challenge, no joy. Alas, resolute to abandon today's search for a worthy kill, Coldwind passed through the convenient groundbridge. Wherever she may have been before, she was in the Control Room now. The same, gray walls. Sculpted rock and cold metal.

Familiarity. It tended to weigh down on Coldwind with a certain kind of ennui.

But before she could decide what to do now or take another step, a blot of sickeningly showy colors crossed her optics. The next thing she noticed was a very loud and exuberant "YOU."

How strange. Few dared to address Coldwind so casually. And even fewer of them could be permitted to do so. Many more ended limbless for it instead. With a lazy glance, she looked down upon the invading gremlin as it continued to jitter around, mumbling one nonsense or the other.

Yet more freaks. Perfect.

With her optics half-closed, Coldwind quickly decided that she did not need this distracting affront to the senses. Be it thanks to the stranger's colors, attitude, or voice, her instincts drifted towards the most direct way of dealing with such nuisances: killing them.

Coldwind's hand naturally reached for the weapon at her waist. It was muscle memory at this point. There was no conscious decision in wanting to remove the approaching Cybertronian. Simply put, the action of killing her would be no different from breathing to Coldwind. And with her firepower, it wouldn't take so much as a wink to put a few lethal holes through that showy plate.

But then, among that dreary, indistinct chatter, the femme heard something worth her interest after all. The servo, previously ready to grab at her rifle and fire, slid back to the firearm's side.

"Practice as a team?"

What a laughable idea. Yet still, Coldwind couldn't possibly pass up on an opportunity like that. Especially not after she almost attacked a teammate on simple reflex. It was her place as Seeker Lieutenant to be better. Perhaps some combat practice could go great ways towards alleviating those murderous urges. But even then, there was no satisfaction. All of this was a necessity, nothing more.

"Very well," she replied joylessly, letting this...Cintra...do as she pleased.

[Cintra]

Aw... this person was one of those subdued types.

A half-lidded gaze, a sort of unamused stillness... it seemed Coldwind wasn't terribly thrilled with her presence, yet Cintra couldn't be bothered to really feel anything in response to that. As far as she was concerned, either the other femme was too dull to really process her words and was struggling with them on her own time, or perhaps she just was one of those hollow emotionless husks that seem to have lost any semblance of expression through the war from those pesky little things like 'trauma' that seemed to be a 'good' excuse in many individual's eyes. Whatever the case, this subdued response meant that when Coldwind reached for her gun, it most assuredly did not go unnoticed.

Orange eyes snapped down momentarily, locking on the handle of the weapon to see how Coldwind was grabbing it. It could almost appear like she was worried a moment, though that was far from the case. In truth, she was looking to see where it was holstered, to be mindful so she didn’t swing down and step on it to pop it free in combat. The last thing she wanted was to break a weapon by full tilt kicking into it. The idea that it could be a threat display didn't even click, her gaze flicking back up to Coldwind's own, unphased and not seemingly bothered in any way.

"Yes! A team!"

Reiterating, both in excitement, and to reinforce the words incase she was a bit slower.

"I specialize in riding individuals such as yourself to offer a second set of eyes, and combat support if someone gets too close! Great to help if you are against more than one."

She really did feel she was valuable. Whether it was true or not for most individuals and fighting styles remained to be seen however. Cintra did not always mesh too well, and if they clashed too much it wasn't really something that could change by practice. Alas, she had some high hopes going into this.

"Flux is already down in the training area! Unless he meandered..."

She spoke as if Coldwind should already know who Flux is, striding forward towards her before halting within arm's reach. Still having zero knowledge about how this Femme behaved, Cintra was over casual and friendly, both of her arms swinging up and slightly out to either side with a broad flourish. Her palms were crooked to face the other Cybertronian, triangular fingers splayed while they wiggled a bit as if to draw attention. A broad grin paired with this.

"Up up!"

Cintra was more than capable enough to pull herself up onto Coldwind on her own. She need only take a running jump, drive her ped into a panel of armor and throw her weight to be able to get where she needed to be. However, just bumrushing a new teammate and possible partner to jump on them and climb up like that would be rather rude. She just needed one invitation, one tentative '...ok', and she would be off the ground in an instant.

The pink femme didn't seem to register in any way that she MAY need to be wary of Coldwind. To her, this femme was a teammate through and through. They were all fighting for a unified goal, and to be beat down and smacked aside for being too energetic? Well, it wasn't even on her mental radar. It is because of this fact alone she seemed so carefree in the face of one who was rather savage and cruel, an individual that could rip the plating right off her struts with brute force alone.

Yay ignorance!

[Coldwind]

Cintra was a bit much to take in. It took every bit of Coldwind's saintly patience to not turn the colorful Decepticon into high-art wall decor. Still, the merits of such an alliance as she suggested could not be denied. Perhaps, Coldwind dared hope, it could even be fun. She rarely entertained the thought of working with others, seeing them as burdens rather than people with their own skills, but this new arrival had a lot of energy. It only needed to be pointed in the right direction.

There was no harm in trying. It wasn't like Coldwind had much else to do either way...Thanks to Starscream's relative lack of involvement ever since Megatron came back, she found her schedule somewhat empty. That is beside the occasional outing with and without the Air Commander or mandatory patrols. Most of the time, she was simply assigned to whatever mine needed an overseer—no place for a Seeker in her opinion—or, worse yet, babysitting Vehicons.

This should at least be a diverting experience after a long and boring day.

The giant femme bent her knee before Cintra as to see eye-to-eye. This was a sign of interest, if not outright respect. Coldwind has never been more accommodating to someone so seemingly unimportant. Her stock-in-trade was to glare, look down upon, and insult. But today, she didn't have the energy to deal with whatever reprimands Command had in store, should she conduct herself inappropriately...again.

"Before you do anything asinine, you should know that I don't suffer fools gladly. I will judge you severely—and by severely—I mean fatally."

She sighed, resting one of her arms across the knee.

"But with that out of the way...Let's get moving. I assume Flux is your comrade?"

To be fair, if Coldwind read recent reports, she would probably know. However, she was the kind to keep her head buried in Autobot files more-so than those of her allies. Truly, she couldn't care less for what rabble managed to get their spacebridge frequency this week.

Not like it mattered. All that did was to move on and proceed with the exercise. She hauled herself up again, rolled her shoulder, and prepared to depart. Of course, she also expected Cintra would like to get right down to mounting her as well, and so she flared her wings a little to make it easier.

[Cintra]

As Coldwind stooped down closer to her level, Cintra's rather pleasant, friendly, and cheery demeanor took a bit of a sidestep away from what it had been. While the action had been intended to be some sort of respectful thing in Coldwind's perspective, to the pink femme it was demeaning and was done to mock fun at the fact she was a smaller individual. Cintra wanted to be treated like she was the same as others, to be seen as someone who was capable of doing their job without frivolous nonsense holding them down. She demanded for others to believe as though her scaling didn't impact her worth. To be looked down upon by taller individuals was a simple day to day part of life and she knew that... but to be LOOKED DOWN upon? Well, that was something else.

The corner of the pink femme's smile twitched somewhat, the friendly look taking on that subtle shift to a forced sort of grin. Her jaw tightened, her eyes appeared to glimmer with more ferocity while the narrow pupils seemed to contract that much more, while the top edge of her lip flicked up a bit to briefly flash the mounting plates that held onto her teeth. She stared into Coldwind's eyes unblinkingly so, not challenged or threatened in any way by how she still loomed high overhead despite the stoop to a point her mass blotted out lighting that shone above.

While the drab blue femme spoke, Cintra's gaze never wavered.

I could punch her in the teeth right now.

With a 'dainty' movement to keep the meeker persona running. her broad hands placed palm to palm, the triangular fingers flaring before clenching and intertwining together. There was a faint creak from the joints, truly inaudible to both likely, as the wrist crooked to the side to further try to lock her hands in place. The action was trying to keep her playing nice while the tendril that extruded from her back shuddered and twitched with a controlled, though slightly erratic, movement that was kept near her frame.

Rage was a pretty good way to narrow Cintra's focus. Pull her thoughts down from drifting around thinking about colors or fun excursions or adventures that could be had. Reel her in from wondering what she could do to help, or tasks that would be able to assist the Decepticons. She was proactive, and it came down to a rather active mind. Yet rage? Ohhh... anger could reel all of those strings in, knotting it together so that she absorbed and took in every word that was said with a dagger's edge.

Orange optics continued to not blink as Coldwind stood back up and walked passed, her grin faltering before sharply slamming into a sneer now that she wasn't being directly looked upon.

"Oh, I see."

The smaller femme did not address the comment asking about who Flux was, her goals set upon a different path altogether. As such, her hands would then unlace with a lurchy twitch, flaring out at either side before she kicked forward to start into a sharp sprint. While she didn't have much space to REALLY ramp up, she got enough momentum so that she could jump up. Her first ped struck down onto Coldwind's calf paneling of the leg that was furthest back, before kicking off and landing solidly on the upper portion of the jet's spine. Each foot planted flat along each wing, the suction cups locking down, while her hands clutched the top edge to keep stable.

As quickly as Cintra landed and locked down, the tapering tendril hooked up into the air not unlike a scorpion's stinger. The metal blade caught onto the light a moment, a sheen of silver reflecting off its honed edge before it started to fracture. A clicking sound, a crackled noise like a ridged zipper was peeling apart... the appendage ripped away into four distinct shapes. Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended, leaving four cables that now darted forward sharply.

The end of each blade and teal banded tendril would hook far into Coldwind's line of sight, showing plainly the type of weapon that was in use. The moment they would be seen, making sure she knew there were four, the bottom two would tuck back and down while looping with one another, not unlike tying a knot. It would snare beneath the femme's throat, though did not truly constrict or bind. The thinner ends would loop as many times as they were able, while still of course keeping the sharp end a safe enough distance that it wouldn't unintentionally slice. The top two pair remained hovered, the daggers angling away so they weren't pointed DIRECTLY at her any longer.

"Shouldn't turn back on someone you just threatened."

An almost pleasant statement at first, her hands sliding up to plant flat on the back of Coldwind's shoulders beneath the armor paneling near the 'shoulder blades'. Her last word was a threatening growl, not impressed, before her voice hard snapped back to the peppy carefree chirps from before.

"I'm trying to make allies, not corpses!"

Bold? Overconfident? Perhaps she was some profoundly powerful little thing that could down Coldwind in an instant? The last was most definitely not even remotely true, but the first two were so potent that it was almost as if Cintra believed it was. Whatever the case she was rather irked and riled, not only from being treated like a runt, but for being threatened with death should she be foolish.

Everyone made mistakes! What the frag!?

Once done with her words, Cintra would wait for a reaction, cautious and keeping a sharp bead on what she felt beneath her palms. While she had never ridden Coldwind before, and had not felt and gotten used to how the femme was built, she liked to think any broad movements of the arms would able to be sensed as they started. If she felt any semblance of larger action from the shoulders beyond that of walking, she would try to snake the tendrils back instantly out of the way, so that the other's clawed hands couldn’t snag and tear the lining right off them with a slash.

((Permission to bind throat gotten))

[Coldwind]

Coldwind was instantly stopped in her tracks. Whereas many would panic, or worse, try to lash out against their assailant, the Seeker remained deathly calm. She just stood there in unnerving silence, letting the little 'Con do as she pleased with no indication of any resistance. Then, the wings shifted slightly. That there. That was the signal she has been waiting for. The sign of a motion in progress.

Nary a second later, the monstrous flyer lifted a hand, and should the tendrils still be latched around her neck at that moment, however briefly, Coldwind would get a feel for them with a gentle stroke. But under such a touch, she felt them tighten, coiling still. Like a craven serpent covetous of its prey. Then the Seeker grinned terribly as she recognized the capacity for destruction contained within that marvelous, gaudy frame of Cintra's.

Indeed, indeed. A most impressive display from such an unassuming creature. And to think that they were just getting started. Perhaps with some guidance, this Cintra—and by extension whatever tagalong she brought with her—would make for powerful instruments of carnage.

And so, Coldwind tilted her head slightly, eyes looking over her monolithic shoulder despite the tightness. Now would be a perfect opportunity for a lesser femme to hide behind her rank, explain to Cintra her grave mistake. But not Coldwind, no. It was not her intention to discipline.

Quite the opposite, in fact. Snuffing that raw, animalistic impulse so soon would not do.

"Oh, but I am certain you will make plenty of corpses, Cintra," she stated, full confidence in her own superiority practically oozing from every syllable. If Cintra could find it within her limited processor to read the room for a while, she would know that Coldwind did not boast in idleness. The potential to wreak untold havoc was at their fingertips.

"Heh, the name is Coldwind," she chuckled at once, shoulders bouncing up with a hefty click.

"Move along now. It would be a shame to waste any more time talking when we could be fighting." The Vosnian urged her colorful companion with palpable glee. Whereas moments ago Coldwind was willing to surrender herself to apathy, this singular strike definitely put Cintra on her radar.

[Cintra]

Cintra's attention was focused down upon Coldwind. Intense, wary, she didn't want to be hurt, even if the idea of TRULY attacking an ally was foreign to her. Battered a bit? Perhaps. Thrown across the room? Yeahh... She had kicked people before, and gone on her own little tantrums, but that was different! That was provoked and they were asking for it! This right here? She felt justified, though she had no real intention of doing anything to truly harm Coldwind. That was why she was so mindful of her blades. The last thing she wanted was to whip the tendrils back and gouge her neck in the process.

There was movement next, yet it was that of the wing and not shoulder. While Cintra's peds planted at the base of the wings, she still shifted her entire body with the ease, unsure how high the panels would go, wanting to be ready if it were to lurch back to try to aim away from Coldwind's body... This little distraction due to her unfamiliarity that the motion was just a shift and nothing more, made her miss the shoulder blade action, the tendrils then being touched which snapped her attention right back.

Orange eyes locked onto the back of Coldwind's helm, focused, her fingertips flaring out before slightly digging down in a sign of displeasure. To pair with this the coils that were looped around the flyer's neck would constrict ever so slightly, a nervous motion as sharpened fingers moved along the sheathed mechanics. It was not unlike a serpent trying to guard its meal, though it would not pull enough to truly hinder or pinch off lines in any way. for now, Coldwind didn't seem like she was out for blood.

When Cintra was looked back upon, she would ease forward some, helping to allow them to make eye contact for a moment. While Coldwind seemed amused and content, the pink femme in contrast looked stubborn and irked. She would likely bristle for a good bit about being looked down upon, to have the other Cybertronian kneel down to get on her level like she was some kind of critter or child needing to be coddled.

She was trying to figure out a response at first, her plating flaring in a mockery to pulling in a breath of air, before the action was cut off by the shrug of shoulder's beneath her frame. With her attention snapped back down, Cintra would pull back both of her hands quickly, momentarily tucking them close to her chest while relying on the tendrils and peds to keep her from toppling off. She didn't know if the pauldrons would grate down and pinch the space beneath into the shoulder blade, and she didn't want to get clipped in the process.

After she was clear of the armor, her palms would return and slap on the external flat part, where there was no risk of being crushed under brash movements. Pairing with this, the long coils that had been around Coldwind's neck would then uncurl, her threat made perfectly clear. Once cleared, of course still keeping mind of the blades, the appendages would snake back together, binding once more into a singular shape. She preferred to keep them unified if not required, it far less likely to be damaged when they reinforced and supported one another.

"Move along now."

"But you’re the one using your legs."

A blunt annoyed reply, confused, Cintra's brows would furrow at this, frame easing up with a hop to get a better grip now that she could get comfortable. The femme wasn't broad enough for her to settle on her shoulder, so she instead remained clutched on her like a backpack, knees bending to settle a bit closer so she didn't throw off weight too much. The cable that extruded from the back of her helm and shoulders would twitch and lurch a bit from side to side in irritation, lips pressing tight together.

[Coldwind]

Cintra tested Coldwind's patience yet again.

Strangely, the jet was at odds with herself. But it wasn't a dilemma of conscience as one could expect. Coldwind was far beyond even questioning whether what she did or wanted to do was moral or not. Instead, she, for a brief moment, considered going back on the goodwill offered to Cintra. Such audacity as the pink femme displayed made the violent Decepticon want to grind that annoying little twerp underfoot. So much so that she could practically hear the popping of pistons at the mercy of her crushing weight.

Yet the desire to make a comrade in destruction won out over sheer brutish instinct, and Coldwind slowly began to walk. As she did so, Cintra could feel the full weight of the Seeker's massive frame shift beneath her. Wide hips and even broader shoulders swaying as heavy footfalls landed one after another. Soon, they found themselves at the tunnel leading out of the control room.

It was then that a few Vehicons passed them. Even if they had considered the imagery to be humorous, Coldwind would not let them laugh, peering at one, then the other, and then the third, with a glance that could pierce armor. The kind of stare that said: "If you ever mention this, I will kill you."

But with that annoyance out of the way, they were free to proceed unimpeded towards the training room. And in an uncharacteristic bout of interest, she decided to speak with Cintra in a stern tone to inquire about her new "friend's" origin.

"I assume you are a new arrival to Earth."

It was more of a statement than a question. But at the very least, Coldwind pretended to be interested. Perhaps as they conversed, she could pry some superficial mutual understanding from a person other than her superior officers.

"I could just read your file—having access to such information in my capacity as one of Starscream's lieutenants—but I think it would be more prudent if you were to divulge your life's story personally."

Primus, she was starting to sound like the type of people she hated. Those accolade-hungry talkers who did nothing of value and provided no other services than whatever weight they could throw around with their ranks. That alone reminded Coldwind just how bad she was at talking about anything that did not involve work. She had no interests other than killing Autobots and pure destruction.

It did not bother her, but it did make her a delightfully dull conversation partner...as Cintra was about to find out.

[Cintra]

The moment Coldwind started to move and flow into a natural gait, Cintra's attention would shift down. She didn't pay heed to where they were going, she didn't pass the Vehicons a glance... instead, she focused hard on feeling how Coldwind moved and carried herself. Each step, the twist of her frame, how her wings rocked upon their connectors or the shifting of shoulder panels... she could sense the general mass beneath her, getting a better bead on where the flyer carried her weight. Figuring out her center of gravity was important, more than Cintra likely consciously realized, though true knowledge of where this lay was still up in the air.

With a cautious movement, not enough to throw the larger femme off, Cintra would push her arms straighter, and would lean her weight back and forth between her legs some with a makeshift bounce. Her suction cups never disengaged, she never truly let go, but she did throw her mass a bit to test the 'feeling' of things beneath her. It may be a tad annoying to Coldwind, yet it was simply something that was needed as she explored and tried to familiarize herself. It was only when words were cast her way that her gaze broke from the other femme's back.

"Yup I am! Four days ago! Or maybe four and a half technically... I think."

The local timeline was its own thing here, and that was skewed by the fact she couldn't see the rise and fall of the sun. She had to simply rely on a clock of some kind to get a bead on days, which partly worked, yet was partly forgotten... The best way to guess days were when the patrols lessened and things seemed to go silent in the cave system. Soft clicks echoing down the tunnels, distant footfalls and perhaps mutterings... an implication of night where a lot of the base got to retreat and find some form of rest. Or at least, those who didn't serve at night. Whatever the case, Coldwind's follow-up words struck Cintra, and she let out a sort of gaspy sound.

"You are a lieutenant?!"

Amazement, excitement, it was like all of the ire from before was heaved out of an airlock and forgotten in an instant. She had no idea Coldwind carried a higher rank, and in a way she almost expected it to have been called out sooner. Or... she more WISHED it had been called out sooner. Then she wouldn't have done what she had done! Threatening someone so much more important than her!? How embarrassing.

"Under Commander Starscream!?"

Her voice pitched a bit higher at this, still very much enamored and amazed. It was still so surreal to her that High Command was here. Starscream, Shockwave, Soundwave, and even Megatron himself... how she ended up serving such a prestigious team was beyond her, but she wasn't really arguing. Because of this blind loyalty and excitement, she happily dove into her story.

"Well! I started off as a window washer and patch repairer in Kaon. Back then my blades were suction cups... but I am sure you could guess that and don't need to be told! I mean you are a lieutenant! Really smart to be where you are! I, er, I shouldn’t spout filler."

Cintra hunkered down a bit closer to Coldwind's back, panicking that she was annoying by assuming initially that someone smart enough to have such a rank couldn’t put two and two together that she didn’t use knives to scale buildings. She bit her lip, scrabbling mentally a second before he continued with anxious energy.

"I met Flux, and he got me involved in rallies when they were just starting out I think. Got scared when the War was on the horizon, but it was adapt or die! So... we adapted!"

It wasn’t fun adapting, Cintra was still bitter at losing her job and suction cups... she missed old Cybertron, but she wasn't going to say as much here and now.

"We got shipped out to some sideline planets to assist at. Bit of bouncing, and then we somehow got here."

She felt self-conscious then, growing meeker.

"I don't have a super cool story..."

[Coldwind]

An unimpressive origin. It did not matter.

As Cintra spoke, Coldwind continued down the corridors with her on the back. The hall ahead coiled like a serpent, forcing them to be more mobile. With such mobility came an even more violent shift in Coldwind's frame, revealing hitherto unused joints and pistons. If Cintra could hold on until the end of their short walk down to the training room, the Seeker would consider it enough proof of her would-be friend's potential usefulness.

"I don't have a super cool story..."

"You do not need one," Coldwind spoke suddenly.

"Many great warlords of our time rose from even lesser stations. That is the beauty of the Decepticon way."

The Seeker herself was a nobody before the war. There were many like her in Vos, but the crucible of conquest singled her out. Now she had it all: station, minions, powerful foes, and a yet more powerful master. Coldwind was often quick to forget these boons. Her short conversation with Cintra reminded her that melancholy was an ill-suited emotion for someone who possessed all of these things.

And yet it felt hollow with no Cybertron to fight over. Long gone were the glory days.

"This war separates the strong from the weak, the ambitious from the incompetent, the cunning from the naïve. If you had the strength to become something more than a window washer, that already proves you have potential."

She was never one for chatter or vapid "noble" ideas and preferred to command fear rather than respect. The very concept of a "pep talk" was outside of Coldwind's vocabulary. To tell people that they were remorseless, conniving killing machines for making it this far in the war was the closest thing to a compliment coming from her.

In the end, they all had blood on their hands: Optimus, Megatron, Starscream, her, and Cintra. Not even the most insignificant Vehicon was innocent. The only difference was that she never pretended otherwise.

Yes, the Seeker was a self-made monster, but she knew just as well that any Autobot or Decepticon was one bad day away from being just like her.

[Cintra]

Cintra was loyal. Whether it was misguided or not, she bit down hard onto the Decepticon ideals, and didn't let her snarled clenched jaw loosen at any point. Any that fought their way up the ranks and earned a true title? Well, they earned it for one reason or another as far as she considered. Whether taken by skill and competency, or taken from an opportunistic grab didn’t matter. They had the aggression to seize their place and that go-getum' approach was something to be commended. Because of this, the pink femme listened carefully to what Coldwind had to say, her thoughts only lapsing when they started down the slope to the lower reaches and the Seeker's frame shifted its mass to accommodate the tilt.

This didn't last long though as she snapped back.

"I DID have strength! I DO have potential!"

A cried realization, as if she had been ignorant to such a truth this entire time and it took the other Cybertronian's words to dislodge it. This wasn't the case, she felt she was capable, she knew she had skill and value, but she was oh so very excitable and easy to rile up into blind following. It didn't matter that she already believed it, because Coldwind said it? It suddenly felt like some new fresh concept.

As sideways and passive as the Seeker's compliment may be, it did much, and inspired her to do even better in the coming training exercise. Cintra knew that she now had not only opportunity to gain another combat partner and help assist others, she now had an opportunity to impress someone of rank! Someone that could notice her and Flux! She didn't know what she expected from this, not having a drive to raise the ranks to rule... but she knew impressing was always good.

"I will show you what an asset I can be! Not just something to tote around!"

Amped up, redirecting her energy into a need to make good impressions. While Cintra was still a bit anxious about the idea she was hanging off a lieutenant's back as if the larger femme was a warhorse, possibly annoying them with movements, she knew she had to try to push that aside. If she was a true pest she wouldn’t have been permitted to hop on to begin with, and if obnoxious she would have been told as much already? Because of this her hands unlatched from their placement, lifting up clunky fingers to hook over the leading edge of Coldwind's wings, before she hoisted up higher.

With a careful action, mindful of the pokey designed guard plate, Cintra hooked her knee over the base of the wing on those mechanics, sitting up some to perch higher up on the other femme to a point her arms were completely free. This would help her further understand and get a feel for movement, while also giving an unobstructed view of the hallway before them. Her helm did hook a bit close to the ceiling however, and not a second after she popped up she had to bend and duck somewhat to let a light fixture not peg her in the face.

"If I can ask-"

Cautious, her riled energy jittering on the backburner.

"How did you get to a place to serve Commander Starscream?"

Curious, orange eyes flicking ahead to see how close they were from the training room.

It wouldn’t be too much further if she remembered correctly.

[Coldwind]

The hallway forked ahead and forced Coldwind to veer left—hard. To the right of them loomed a forlorn corridor, one which Coldwind took great pains to avoid with a maneuver that could easily throw somebody less agile and sticky than Cintra off her back. Should the little scamp still be safely attached, even after such a sudden motion, Coldwind would subtly throw her chin in the direction of the tunnel they avoided.

"Megatron resides down that hall," she remarked off-handedly as if sharing the base with the Warlord himself was not a momentous event. Indeed, not for Coldwind. She had a much more jaded outlook on status and rank, but perhaps it would go some length towards further inspiring Cintra—whether through admiration or fear—to act her best from now-on.

"In any case," Coldwind returned to the pink femme's question, "My squadron got quite unhappy with Starscream after the siege of Vos. They wanted to keep resisting Megatron. I knew there was no point. But they were idealists, you see. It's a toxic mindset. Rots at your processor. Eventually, they decided Starscream went too far. Wanted him gone."

As she explained, the doorway to the training room slowly crept around the corner. Just a few more moments at—or rather on—Coldwind's back, and Cintra would finally reach her destination with the commandeering friend she has made.

Said friend finally let out a final few words with a hefty, nostalgic chuckle: "So I turned them in, kept doing my best from there-on, and the rest was history."

Of course, Coldwind carefully omitted the part where Starscream disposed of her like some low-ranking Vehicon. But she needed Cintra motivated, not facing the harsh truths of the Decepticons and the cutthroat world of the upper echelons. Not that Coldwind expected Cintra to understand even if she were to explain.

Either way, the time for talk passed. The training room was now directly ahead of them, and hopefully, that Flux mentioned by Cintra stood somewhere around.

[Cintra]

The veer left was perhaps not unexpected given the fact that was the direction of the training room, but the harshness of the turn was what caught Cintra off guard. Annoying to some, the action could almost be seen as an attempt to throw her off to laugh at her failure, yet when in the mindset of training it was exceptionally valuable. What if Coldwind had to dodge incoming fire or a weapon? What if she had been hit by a combustive thing and was thrown to the side? Unexpected slams of weight being thrown or a spin happening were a way of life in her role, and as such Cintra reacted fast.

Flat paneled hands clapped down with a sharp movement, a muffled clang ringing out as they collided with Coldwind's shoulders to catch her weight. To pair with this the long extrusion from the back of her helm and shoulders would swoop down and to the side in a curved motion, throwing some weight and torque to also contest being spun off. Her hands clapped down perhaps a bit too hard however, and her frame shifted to the side a little further than wanted by overcompensating, but that was what this exercise was for! Her impulse reaction having been tuned to Flux's shoulder shape, broadness, and general design rather than Coldwind's own.

Orange eyes snapped back down to the back of the femmes' head then, looking to see what she was thinking. Was she amused? Annoyed? This question was launched aside however, as a declaration of what was down the long hallway launched all previous discussion and thoughts aside in her processor. With a snort rattled gasp, Cintra's hands would unlatch and she would push back up into her high propped stance, the finials on either side of her helm crooking upright along with her brows.

"Really!?"

Excited, amazed. She would certainly not go down that hallway anytime soon, though it was not out of FEAR for the Warlord, but more profound respect to stay out of his way and not be a bother. The pink femme would lean back as Coldwind continued, the leg that had been crooked so her weight as on her knee, now lifting to place flush flat between shoulderblades. To pair with this, the extrusion would crook around like a hook, looping over the Seeker's shoulder and across almost like a seat belt. With her ped suction cup engaged and her cable 'grip', Cintra would push back and stand at an angle off of her back, trying to watch the hallway until it was no longer visible.

The continuation of the story pulled her back some.

"Yeah! Frag those morons. Idealists are fools!"

Wait... what?

Hypocrite much?

"You serve or you die. Wishy washy gets left behind!"

Still standing from Coldwind's frame with one knee bent so she wasn’t at a 90-degree angle, Cintra would slightly bounce her weight again to go in tandem with the other Cybertronian's movement. Sometimes she synced up, others she intentionally went off balance to feel things out. She seemed awfully wiggly but it all had a purpose, trying to record down results.

"Good on you for doing that!"

It seemed Cintra always spoke in over energetic words that could almost be a shout, a lot of amped up hype in most of her statements... though this last one was exceptionally proud, as if her approvals truly meant something to the unfamiliar femme.

[Coldwind]

Coldwind craned her neck to the side and narrowed her optics at Cintra. For a while, it seemed like she was about to snap at the small femme's eagerness. Her body tensed up, she stopped walking. Surely Cintra should feel it herself if she was attuned to the movements of the warriors she assisted.

But it came as a surprise when Coldwind suddenly relaxed, letting the initial anger pass. She even reassured Cintra:

"Your eagerness to please is...refreshing. Unlike some, you know your place."

That was about as reassuring as Coldwind got on a good day. A hypothetical pat on the shoulder for a good, little pet like Cintra. If only more soldiers followed in her footsteps. Sadly, Coldwind met many Decepticons that made it their goal to throw around their weight like they owned the place, especially ones of low station.

...Such was her recent experience with Breakdown. Coldwind did not know much about him, but she certainly wouldn't let herself get pushed around simply because he swaps paint with the CMO behind closed doors or somesuch. Truthfully, what led Breakdown down this path of resistance, what was his relationship with Knock Out, or how strong he truly was were details that did not concern her. All that mattered was that he got in the way. That's the only thing that ever mattered.

But Coldwind did not linger on these thoughts and proceeded into the training room, hopefully with Cintra still attached. She was quite eager to meet this other half of the equation.

Now, what did that scamp call him...Flux, was it?

[Cintra]

Cintra WAS attuned to some level with individuals she practiced with, however it was to actual movements and not so much mood unless she started to work with them outside of combat training. Because of this, she noticed instantly when Coldwind stopped and tensed up, while being completely ignorant to the actual tension of mood that was building. To her, she expected it to be the precursor of a violent action. Tightening of cables, a system pressurizing... something to lead to a sudden lurch that she would need to be aware of...

This caused Cintra to bend her legs further, frame pulling closer to Coldwind's mass. Orange eyes were wide and focused, staring at the back of her helm in wait... and yet, nothing came? There was no hard sidestep, no spin lurch, and no sudden bend and heave forward to try to kick her off like an angry animal. The strain she thought she felt bled way, and she didn't really understand. Finials on either side of the pink femme's helm flicked up at this, brows furrowing as she stared at the other Cybertronian, before the conversation progressed to draw her attention forward.

"I do what I do best."

Prideful once again.

Relaxation started to come back into play, the odd uncertainty from a few moments prior cast aside as an odd fluke of some kind. Once was weird, twice was concerning, and three times? Then she may need to try to learn WHAT it meant in case it happened in combat... yet, that time wasn't yet, and her focus was pulled forward as they turned into the rocky room that somehow got dubbed as a training area.

"Flux!"

A barked happy chirp, Cintra would pop forward, moving from Coldwind's back to sling a leg over her shoulder, sitting on the highest point almost straddling with back leg behind her wing. The jet may be a Lieutenant, something she DID honestly and truly respect, but she knew she needed to work on their coordination and balance. The biggest thing however was her absolute BLIND nature to the fact that Coldwind may not favor being used as a jungle gym to this level. Whatever the case, she sat perched on her new seat, spine straight, chest pushed out and shoulders back in a proud way, helm crooked up as she sported a broad grin.

"I found a friend who will be working with us today!"

Her right hand lifted, wiggling a finger in the mech's direction, brow crooking up as she spoke with a lighthearted tease.

"Tell me you remember our date."