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.
Post by Optimus Prime on Dec 3, 2021 22:49:22 GMT -5
Even when backpedaling, even when attention was drawn directly to his question in a way Optimus did not believe could be misunderstood, Neon still stumbled around it, leaning back to emotions alone and the words that prefaced it. For all his want to help, for all his desire to assist Sparkplug, he wasn’t recounting the sections Optimus sought, and without them he couldn’t in good judgement plan a following stage of action. He needed the initial foundation in place before he could consider the building that was placed atop it.
With this, Optimus' gaze softened, starting to understand it could possibly be how the other mech functioned, and he had to guide him. Pull him back onto the road each time he drifted towards the outer edges and threatened to derail entirely.
The entire stability of their dilemma was resting on this.
"Good intentions and faith can guide well, this is not a sign of foolishness, however it mustn't be solely relied upon."
The Prime's words grew less abrupt as he spoke, gaze pulling away from the far borders of the vacant environment to look upon the smaller mech. He tried to relax his appearance and ease down his shoulders more, to not look as intimidating as he knew he could be, yet he was who he was. Ridged in posture, expression mostly neutral, Optimus’ height made him tower above most on this world, Neon certainly included in this. The buffer of space between them helped, though it simply was what it was and nothing more could be done.
"To ask her to return, implies you were aware she aligned herself with the Autobots."
Neon finally looked back at the Prime, a glint of focus in his optics. He did not let discomfort and unease get the better of him. The question was explained, narrowed down to a single focus. That is something the Autobot could work with. He wasn't foolish and knew full well that the intricacies of conversations escaped him and points went by that he did not understand. For a mercy, Optimus was specific and brief. While Neon did not realize that this had been done to accommodate him, he appreciated the clarity nonetheless.
"It started rather innocuously. I-I think. Yes. I remembered reading a piece of her research once. It was something minor about fuel pumps or the like. It would've been well within my right not to remember, but I never forget a good piece of engineering."
He let out a brief sigh of relief. Now that he could orient himself, firmly grasp what was wanted, he could speak with greater care.
"Of course, many Sparkplugs were working in the field back then," he said somewhat sadly. To think there might only be just the one nowadays was a grim reminder of how scarce their people had become, and good scientists among them even more so. Would there even be a single Sparkplug to remember when this bloody conflict ended? Would it ever end? Questions like this tended to boggle the processor, especially of those born during the War. Those like Neon.
But right now, he could not well afford to lose the footing Optimus procured. Making a swift recovery, he steeled himself in optimism and hope.
"To confirm that she was the same Autobot scientist who wrote it, I asked her about it directly—and she did. She was rather proud of it, too. Even remembered the full title and contents. That's the question that sold the deal."
There was also the fact that Sparkplug bore striking similarities to the recorded version of herself. True enough, with distinct differences, but doubtlessly the same bot in both the present and the past, to what extent that mattered these days.
Post by Optimus Prime on Jan 1, 2022 0:01:47 GMT -5
Optimus had been under the impression that Neon was bypassing the clue that he desired in order to get a good grasp on what had occurred. Something that needed to be pulled out, something that Neon may think was inconsequential but relayed much... He was prepared to work with the other mech to guide him in the direction that would eventually reach such a goal, yet, at the mech's next words, Optimus started to question if such a piece of the puzzle even existed.
He had assumed the other mech believed that she should have been an Autobot dependent on something she declared during their interaction. A word of malice against something the Decepticons had done, or an ire at their leadership... something akin to that to drive such an idea to the forefront. Instead, it was not a question brought up in the moment, but rather referencing an article that had been put together so many years ago.
So much time had passed... Optimus knew that he could not look back upon the works of Orion and still believe every word written with zeal. Individuals changed, and it made this situation somewhat difficult to come to the same conclusions based upon such factors. Who she was, was no longer who she is, and to funnel someone down to such traits was detrimental. Yet, other factors did support Neon's argument, and such details would not be cast aside.
"Who we are is not locked upon a linear path, but rather alters dependent upon obstacles reached."
Once more declaring this sentiment, wanting Neon to truly understand that if she had changed her mind, that was her decision to make. Yet, he was far from dismissive in full, simply wishing to take things with a fine tooth comb and a very critical eye.
"Duress at being confronted on said choice has many sources. Physical pain, however, is telling."
Very telling.
"What was visible?"
Not felt. Not sensed. What visual cues would lead to this conclusion...
Optimus was not well versed in such practices, he knew what Shadowplay was, and he could likely get a feel that something was off, akin to how Neon did on a lesser value. A sort of uncanny valley when looking into another eye to eye. Yet, he could not piece together hard details to ask directly about, such as a twitch in left shoulder joints, or harder blinking, or whatever it may be that were factual cues that could point to such tampering.
While continuing to reach out for clarifying details, Optimus was already thinking up what practical solutions may be utilized in this situation. The fact she was left to free roam still concerned him a great deal, it showed how deep issues may be locked down that the Decepticons could trust her, though it could work to their benefit. Bait her out in some way. They just needed to be as sure as possible before taking undue risk.
Unlike Optimus, Neon did not even comprehend the scope of time on which the Prime's worldview stood. To Neon, the War was but a fleeting memory. He did not live its many centuries as the Autobot leader did, and perhaps that is what made it so hard for him to understand. He could not begin to fathom as to why Sparkplug should have been anything but an Autobot, even as the larger mech posited options after options.
Has she not been a good person? Weren't most Autobots? Those good people could become Decepticons of their own volition. It was possible, but Neon refused to believe that this was the case.
No matter. He had another question to answer.
"She convulsed, gripped her helm," Neon answered, recalling the writhing Sparkplug before his eyes, "but not much else. When I stepped in to help her, it passed quickly."
The young scientist sounded concerned, well and truly so, yet equally defeated. Perhaps, despite hoping that immediate action would be taken to "save" Sparkplug, it wouldn't come soon enough. He worried for her, wanted to help her—as quickly as possible. And more than anything, Neon shuddered to think what he would have to do in case Optimus decided this was not pressing enough.
Accept it? Defy it? And if he chose the latter, would anybody ever forgive him for it? As it ever was with those so anxious, the question of their whole future hung in the balance constantly. Not that it would avail him to fret. Not while a decision hasn't been reached yet.
"It cannot have been unrelated, surely. I am certain of it."
He lied to himself as much as he did to Optimus. He was convinced but not certain. Such unscientific behavior. What has gotten into him? She—a different she from Sparkplug—would have never condoned it.
Do not rush your hypotheses. Gather evidence, revise, review, listen to feedback.
It would seem he was doing anything but. What a poor student he was. At that thought, he frowned weakly.
Last Edit: Jan 15, 2022 15:43:27 GMT -5 by Deleted: Grammar, oops!
Post by Optimus Prime on Jan 22, 2022 1:13:31 GMT -5
It was beneficial Optimus was questioning the young mech as much as he was. Pulling and guiding, directing with a short lead to try to mill out the information he sought... It manifested details that changed so very much from his first interpretation of things, such as elaborating that her discomfort was not simply looking away or showing unease and stress. A heightened feeling of anxiety that Neon could pick up on. Yet... was true pain on par with gripping her helm as if it would keep the contents from jostling further and conflicting with itself. This was a large token of a detail, and it pulled Optimus from his prior considerations further.
Yes, he knew that it didn’t devalue them entirely. Some individuals could hold so much guilt they would do such a thing to try to hide from their own emotions and hold themselves together to remain strong. However, that was the profound minority now. Dwarfed under the much more likely situations that were presented at the onset by Neon. It may not be Shadowplay, other factors to consider such as a captive ally that would keep them from fleeing command, yet even then that could be worked with and she would still need assistance to get free from the chains that held her.
Optimus looked into the darkness of the night, his sitting position not shuffling or moving in any way. He was still, quiet a moment, leaving but the environmental noises that were so very faint in such a desolate patch of land. The Prime's gaze flicked slightly at the horizon once more, the movement of his eyes and the apertures within seeming to be the only actions for a few beats, before he finally spoke.
"A lure must be considered."
An obvious sign his focus had sharply shifted gears.
"Yet, we mustn't tip our hand lest she be locked away entirely."
It could be a one-shot change. One attempt to grab. One moment to catch their target... If they were to fail due to lack of planning, there was a good chance they would not be able to obtain such an opportunity again. Whether Sparkplug was the extension of a hostage situation, or truly a victim of malicious tampering, it sounded as though the Decepticons valued her skills enough to take such efforts in the first place. To find that their asset may be threatened, she could be caged away where only an infiltration to their stronghold could pose any moderate hope of success.
"What actions are of consideration?"
This was where Neon could tap into his own tactical mind. Try to mill out what he would have attempted should Optimus have simply given him his blessing at the onset. At this question, his gaze woudl shift back down to the other mech, curious.
Neon thought about it for a good while. He remained silent throughout, considering their options. At the same time, he wondered whether Optimus wanted him to decide on a course of action before or after, should they be allowed to detain Sparkplug. He would give his perspective on both.
...Once he was done thinking about containment first. It did not take long. Then, a slight, up-beat shift in his posture preceded his explanation.
"Perhaps we ought to consider using the Decepticons' guile against them!" He exclaimed excitedly, feeling a second wind at his back. He also poignantly raised his finger as if this was a moment of revelation. He looked to the Prime, trying to gauge whether this sentence confused him or elicited the selfsame spark of excitement.
Then again, scarce could he gauge the emotions of a Prime. Even with his powers, Optimus remained...remote. Unknowable. So hard to read, inside and out. Stoic expression, a gentle, terse ambiance which revealed nothing unto him. Difficult.
He would have to explain either way.
"Whether or not Sparkplug is a Decepticon of her own volition, she is still a scientist. She visited the mine in search of abandoned technology, same as me."
Then, at long last, he stood up, turned around and faced Optimus. Even at his full height, he was not taller than the other mech sitting down. Like this, they could speak eye-to-eye while it gave Neon the space to gesticulate.
"Furthermore, as you may recall, Soundwave once used an energy signature consistent with certain types of Cybertronian equipment to lure me out. I believe I can replicate his methods..."
All of that was true, of course. However, it did not escape Neon that Sparkplug was not the only Decepticon apt in the ways of science, and so he had to make certain it would be her who comes and nobody else.
Those odds could never be raised to a 100%... But...
"...And apply them to mimic equipment only she would be familiar with. Her own creations."
Bold, risky. But it could work, in theory.
Whether the Prime thought so too remained to be seen. Perhaps he saw cracks and flaws in the plan that Neon did not. If the young scientist learned anything of value today, it is that having someone so wise offer a second opinion never hurt. And should the plan be incompatible? He would go back to the drawing board and adjust.
Post by Optimus Prime on Feb 19, 2022 0:17:49 GMT -5
The shift in Neon's mood was not one easily missed. From reserved and uncertain, trying to convince him of what he saw with broken up responses, to one who was eager and had his mood uplifted at the opportunity to consider what plans could be taken next. A scientist who suddenly was given free reign to offer a full proposal. Optimus liked to see such energy, for one who enjoyed their role was something he fought for from the very onset. Neon may have been placed into sciences in the Caste System, still planting him where he stood now, but what mattered most was the freedom to choose differently if he felt so inclined.
What mattered was that he was passionate enough to stand in excitement.
Optimus watched as Neon got to his feet, a brief flicker of thought given to the idea that he perhaps should stand as well, not knowing if it was expected of him. There was a slim possibility the other mech may have something already set up, something to show or share as proof of concept. He had declared he intended to move forward anyway and simply wanted his blessing. Yet, this probability was quite low given they were in a desolate wasteland of a patch of earth. Assumptions were just that, and as such he remained sitting so he did not tower above the other Cybertronian.
The Prime was not one to strive to remain imposing over others. While some leaders may baulk at the idea of lowering themselves initially to begin with, and even more so at remaining sitting while a follower took such a stance, yet he was not one of them.
"A sound concept. What sciences were her focus."
Once more Optimus's voice was rather neutral to a point that the inflection of a true question was muddled beneath the comment, yet, there were some of his own uplifted tones that mirrored Neon's own in a profoundly muted way. Nowhere near the other mech, the energy nothing but a soft ghost. Whatever the case, the answer to his question was a large factor that could be quite limiting, or it could give them an even more reliable lure to work with.
'Fuel Pumps' was such a vague statement. Biological to mechanical, they covered many fields. Even within the mechanical field alone you had pumps for shuttles, utility pumps for architectural systems, terrain altering pumps, and numerous other applications that spanned beyond his first thoughts on the matter. Should it be the latter, they may have something to work with, yet if it was the prior it would be more difficult to compile an adequate lure that would not bring Knock Out, Breakdown, or the unnamed medic that had clashed with Red Alert.
"I would need to do more research into her methods and creations. However, I am confident that a suitable lure may be developed eventually," Neon said hopefully. For the first time, his voice was not full of awkward pausing or accompanied by nervous gestures. Perhaps the Prime's modicum of faith restored him to a more reasonable state.
When he answered, he did so plainly and truthfully. The data in his dossier could only take him so far on its own, and he'd need to put no small amount of work into making certain the plan worked. The chances of luring out another Decepticon were never zero, but he needed to get as close to Sparkplug's methods as he could so that she'd be the likeliest one to notice. This would require substantial effort, time, and commitment. Neon could dedicate all three, yet there were more pressing matters, and so he felt the need to temper Optimus's expectations.
"But it might be some time before I am able to do that."
He did not want to give false hope, not to the Autobot leader nor to himself. If he was to try his chances "saving" Sparkplug as he had set out to do, Neon would need to spare no expense. A difficult feat, given their current circumstances. Few wanted to admit it, but Ratchet's indisposition taxed them more than they realized. With the CMO out of commission, his former responsibilities fell to Patch and Neon in the matters of medicine and science respectively.
This left little room for such "selfish" pursuits, noble though they were. The needs of the many had to be weighed to the wants of the few. Neon knew this, and still...
...He had to find the time. He simply had to. It was not right to leave things as they were with Sparkplug. Even should he limit his power-downs to a fraction, he'd find a way. But he could not afford, under any circumstances, to focus on her above all other Autobots. He suspected they would not appreciate if things around the base went unmaintained.
Last Edit: Mar 4, 2022 13:24:23 GMT -5 by Deleted: Stylistic thingy!
Post by Optimus Prime on Mar 5, 2022 1:33:57 GMT -5
Passion for a project could be a fleeting thing. Not always present... sometimes on the backburner as joy shifted to obligation... It was a priceless element that could not be forced, one that could drastically affect the final outcome from simply being functional to hit a goal, to something that was truly inspired. While a solution to their current concern was not immediately at hand, Optimus had no doubts that Neon could figure something out that could yield the results they sought. He was not only intelligent with a clever edge, but he had a personal investment and a drive to do good.
Trying to save a life.
Optimus related to this a great deal, listening to Neon's newfound energy and hopes, only to then note how they seemed to taper some as he tried to dull down and backpedal. The other mech appeared to already be setting himself up for troubles, trying to dampen timelines and brace himself for issues preemptively. The Prime could only look over his expressions as this shift happened, his weight easing back ever so slightly to get a little more comfortable.
"Based upon your descriptions, I do not believe Sparkplug is in immediate danger."
She didn't even seem to be in any duress at all given she showed pain only when confronted more directly. This was a grace, giving them the opportunity to truly tie up loose ends and seal any issues that could be found to properly prepare, without fear of her being tortured or offlined. Her adaptability to be out solo unsupervised was evidence to that. Weeks to months to years... with a Cybertronian’s lifespan they had time to work this out carefully to effectively save her life, while in the grand scheme of things not robbing much more from her.
Neon would have time to try to perfect his lure, and yet if someone else other than Sparkplug did arrive...? Well... when things were closer where the produced tool could be tested, they could investigate contingency plans and take the steps needed to make things a clean cut. There was always a way to try to make the signal legitimate and give the Decepticons a win of some kind if required, letting them believe they found what they sought as deception was used against them. If a true fail were to occur, there was a risk of not being able to get a second chance if it became clear what they were after.
Should opportunity rise to do something more immediate, that could be addressed at that moment.
Easing forward, Optimus moved upright with a push of one hand against the ground, hydraulics hissing as they engaged from the idled state they had been locked in for some time. Small bits of grit clinked and fell as he rose, the wheels on his lower legs twitching slightly while his mass re-settled. Upon rising fully to his peds, his shoulders would roll back momentarily on their pivots, the more formal stance of the Prime taken briefly out of habit before he forced himself to relax, to not come off as an intimidating force.
Calmly, Optimus' hand would then reach out and place upon Neon's shoulder, trying to be reassuring, as not only did he approach him and have to jump through the hoops to even reach said goal's approval, he now had the self-inflicted burden of taking on a troubling project with weight behind it. It likely wasn’t easy, given how stressed the entire ordeal seemed to be. However, Optimus did not want him to ever second guess approaching him with issues in the future. Neon would have his support where needed.
"Do not let this darken your days. I trust you have time."
He glanced at the gesture for a brief moment. Somehow, it felt eternal. Here stood Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots, with a hand on his shoulder and reassuring words to go with it. Such things happened to great heroes in stories from the battlefield and in news on the holo-feed, not to nobody scientists who spent half the war cowering in towers and another half on the run.
He did not feel worthy, yet accepted the kindness nonetheless. With a stiff motion, he nodded.
"I will do my best, sir."
And that is all anybody could do in their present situation. The odds were stacked against them, now and always, but they would find a way. Not just for Sparkplug but for Ratchet and the others. Neon did not have much confidence in himself, but he had enough in the Autobots to know that they would be there to catch him should he fall. The tasks ahead were overwhelming, threatening to consume hope. Yet thanks to but a few brief words from Optimus? He felt as if those troubles were a tad smaller.
Sometimes that was enough.
If Sparkplug had been abandoned before, she wouldn't be now. Nobody would so long as Neon was there for them, and for as long as they were there for Neon. Perhaps this was a naïve way to interpret this moment, but the young scientist could not understand it any other way, having yet so much to learn about the world. With that, he took a few steps away from Optimus and looked towards the starry sky yet again.
He wondered, and then he asked:
"How many more of us are out there, do you reckon?"
Sparks lost adrift in the void like the novas and the dwarfs. At least that's how Neon liked to think about it. Yes, many Autobots perished, but surely there were many yet alive out in the cosmos. He did not even need Optimus to answer to believe that. Perhaps such musings came out as non sequitur pondering when he put them into words, but it related to him and Sparkplug more than an initial impression would let on.
Post by Optimus Prime on Mar 26, 2022 0:49:58 GMT -5
There was no such thing as great heroes from stories.
There were only individuals that did what they felt was right.
"And that is more than any could ask of you."
Faith was in play. Optimus knew that things would work out. Even if they failed, if they could not get their first plans to work, in his opinion, everything happened for a reason, even if they may not understand the reason in the now.
Moving on, Optimus looked up when Neon did, staring up into the sky and all the distant stars that stretched to each horizon. Such things were not always visible, light pollution and a haze of smog often blotting out such views from many on this world that called cities their home. Out on this remote plane however, the darkness emphasized the faint lights, tiny black specks peppering across the blackened slate that enveloped them. They were still blind to so much however, the curling constellations and deviations of color... the true clarity and variation of the stars themselves... everything was oh so muted down, yet, enough was visible to appreciate.
It did not matter how far one could reach, how many planets they may traverse, or how much knowledge has snaked back in their direction to learn about other civilizations and environments. The most learned of scholars could still be overwhelmed and dwarfed by the pure magnitude of it all. Perhaps such unknown distant lands would make contact themselves, stretching everything that much further. There was simply no way to know where the true ends could be found, and how far their kind had gone.
"It is difficult to say."
Their population had once been so large. Their world was filled so much that populating other moons and explorations had begun. Countless Cybertronians likely escaped it all, avoiding the destructive wave that rippled across Cybertron. Free souls, not burdened with trying to reform their world, but instead able to seek their own ambitions away from the struggles for power.
"I choose to believe many avoided this war, and found peace elsewhere."
Optimus hoped they were happy wherever they were, where they could find joy and cast aside all the senseless conflict between those who ruined their home.
"That is a nice thought," Neon replied, gazing at those distant stars. Their shine, so warm he felt it. He kept looking and, perhaps, for a moment he imagined that they were friends and family long gone, drifting through the night sky, "I can see them."
Not literally, of course. If only. But the hope this idea gave him? It was as tangible as emotions could be. Perhaps Optimus did not realize it, perhaps he did, but he left a great impression today on a young soul. This meant incalculably more to Neon than it would to someone older and wiser. His expression betrayed little of the emotions felt, a simple and innocent smile, nothing else.
Maybe she was alive somewhere out there, too. His mentor who taught him so much.
No. He knew better.
"I had a teacher once. I believe she would have liked you."
There was a sudden pang of sadness, a weak texture to the voice as it faltered. The implications were clear. This teacher of whom Neon thought so highly was no longer among them—not amidst the stars, not amidst the living. It was time to come to terms with the reality of her death.
He waited a while for the grief to pass. It would not leave him, not truly, but he could choke it back for the present. Looking towards Optimus once more, Neon composed himself as best he could and straightened out his back.
"Thank you for letting me speak, sir. Shall we depart home?"
His manner was cordial and formal once again as if to suggest the brief indulgence of emotion was over. He could process it alone at a later time. There was no need to burden the Prime with idle outpourings with so much work resting on their collective shoulders. Not just his and Optimus', but every Autobot's yet alive. They were in this together, for better or worse, and owed it to see the war through to those who could not.
Post by Optimus Prime on Jun 3, 2022 19:23:09 GMT -5
"I had a teacher once. I believe she would have liked you."
A soft hum was made in reply to Neon, a sort of sound to simply show he had heard the statement rather than putting together a full response. Optimus had nothing he could really offer in regards to it. Should he be a more social individual, he perhaps would have asked questions about what they were like, or what overlaps they may have to create such a comment. Trying to figure out why she would look at him favorably. To do so however was outside of his typical range of discussion, and even if it was something he would address, now was not the time to start prying into the young mech's past. A past that likely held ample loss just like them all.
As the topic drifted more to the now, his weight would settle some, relaxing.
"It depends on what you desire."
Optimus' words had lowered in volume as he spoke, embracing the new heavier tones of the discussion.
"You are not obligated to return with me, should you seek solace here."
Events had sifted away from a discussion on a lost soul, to the broader picture of their kind as a whole. It could be a profoundly sobering thought to reflect upon who may lay within the darkened abyss of far space, as well as thinking of those who were lost to the stars and live on only in memory. It undoubtedly brought many feelings and thoughts upon their heels, contemplating the choices in ones life that lead them to this exact moment. A moment where space was nothing but tiny pinpricks of light within a black sheet, rather than anywhere that could be reached like they could many years prior. To transition from contemplating this world, and those beyond, could be violently harsh when entering back into an active outpost. Confined within walls that acted as a new base of operations in a seemingly endless war.
Optimus would not force Neon to return with him to Omega One. As far as he could see, the vacant patch of land was simply that, and there was no risk of discovery or threat. The young mech could spend some time to reflect and find peace before being thrust back into what had become the new normal.
Patiently, The Prime would wait for Neon's response before he would call out for a Ground Bridge in the chance that the other mech had any further concerns or topics to pull to the forefront.
He weighed the options, the question, for a brief few moments, then returned with an answer.
"I think I'd like to go home, sir," the scientist spoke with a kind voice. And that was all he said. He would not weigh down the Prime with further burdens, not the ones which were his own to carry, for they each had many already. The best that he hoped for has already been discussed, and aired into the open. Now, it only needed to be acted upon.
He would do it.
He would find a way to fix things, make them right. That is all any Autobot should aspire to do, though he silently hoped that his teacher would approve. Her Spark may have joined the multitude drifting in the dark vastness of space a long time ago, but somehow, he had always felt her gaze when his resolve surged.
She'd given and taught him what she had and knew, now he could use it—would use it—for the greater good. That the Prime approved, that they could work together, was an honor. But enough drifting thoughts. He had work to do. His face turned determined, then. Not unkind, not expressionless, but confident in ways it had not been up until today.
With that newfound confidence, he approached closer to the towering giant, ready to depart.
Post by Optimus Prime on Aug 6, 2022 1:34:36 GMT -5
A small pause was offered to the younger mech, waiting to make certain that returning was indeed what he wanted rather than feeling pressured to leave, before calm words followed.
"Very well."
With this acknowledging statement, Optimus would lift his right hand, placing two fingers along the side of his helm to activate the connection back to Omega One. He did not wait a moment for anyone to respond at the activation of the communication, trusting who was on duty to already be listening for any incoming alerts, and as such he would pass on the order to open a Ground Bridge at their location. Once this request had been made, cyan optics would drift over to the vacant patch a few strides away from their current location, where the ground was still windswept from their initial entrance into the area. It was a safe assumption that was where the portal would form once more due to the coordinates already having been set, and Optimus was not disproven in this matter as a flick of light was seen as a split-second warning before the gateway formed abruptly.
The all too familiar portal took shape, casting brilliant light that danced across the flattened earth in a rippling array of color. Teal and purples, white and blues... they all spiraled from the central mass, painting the ground that was otherwise flanked in surrounding shadow. It was once this settled, that Optimus would raise his arm, gesturing towards the waiting gateway. The action was somewhat subtle, his arm not lifting far from his central mass, though despite this, the implication was clear, inviting Neon to take point back to their makeshift home. A more arrogant leader may have opted to go first, wanting to not wait for others and use the action as a signal of power at all times, however that was not Optimus' mentality.
The Prime lived by a simple rule when it came to using the Ground Bridge. He would always try to be first through in battle, to carve a path and show that he would never send his soldiers where he would not go himself, while also being the last to leave to watch their backs and make certain all were ushered out before something could go amiss. While the interaction between Neon and himself hardly warranted such a mindset, there no issues of any kind in such a remote region, yet it was an ingrained habit, one that he continued to uphold and also acted as a polite gesture as well.
Once Neon moved to pass, Optimus' helm would raise back up, casting his gaze across the horizon line one final time. While there may have been concern over being spotted beforehand if any were to wonder the outermost edges, namely MECH within this region, now would be the time in which they would stand out like a flaming beacon. It mattered not however, for the illuminating force would only be there for a moment longer to let the Prime pass, before all trace of their presence would be gone save for what footfalls and disturbances were left behind on the grit coated ground.