[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Agenda [Starscream, Soundwave]
Jul 21, 2023 0:29:43 GMT -5
Post by Starscream on Jul 21, 2023 0:29:43 GMT -5
Despite the fact the Seeker’s attention had not left Megatron, the gentle incline of the other mech’s helm toward the Spymaster went unnoticed. Such subtleties were not gifted to him, and as such - he did not see it, not knowing to even look for such a thing. The Warlord often favored a more… direct approach when dealing with him, though that same courtesy was often extended to the majority of their forces as well.
But not Soundwave.
Even though his focus was on the Warlord himself, the terse comment had him tense just slightly, clawed digits curling and flexing as he mulled over the spoken words. He expected it, yet to be put on the spot - an order given, with Soundwave as witness - he knew and understood he must comply without fuss, nor protest.
He recognized that he was on thin ice after the events of Haven, and while he had managed to scrabble his favor back into good standing, it was ever the precarious tightrope which he walked.
Meaning he had to stay at least two steps ahead.
As such, he was quick to nod at Megatron’s words, frame shifting to stand up a little taller, wings twitching, though not rising to their full height behind himself.
“T-Then with your permission, I shall take my leave at once and begin updating the necessary schedules, with an aim to begin at first light.” despite the initial stammered word, his optics would not leave Megatron. As much as he wanted to look away, as much as he wanted to leave the room - he would remain standing until either dismissed or ordered otherwise.
It was early, and while they had the entire day to set to task, this was no small undertaking and was something that needed to be planned accordingly, with little rush. This slight delay would hopefully give Soundwave the necessary time to acquire manifests and maps of said locations, making their job as efficient and as swift as possible.
He, meanwhile, would assign those who he felt were capable of doing what was needed. With various fliers at his disposal - including Thundercracker, who he was certain to include as to keep an optic on him - they would make quick work of gathering what was needed, by any means necessary.
Or, so he hoped. After he spoke, he would fall quiet. Optics darting ever so briefly away from the Warlord, before returning to look at him once more as he awaited the order on what to do next, a gentle wing twitch betraying the nervous tension that weighed on his frame, a tension he was desperate to bleed out.
But not Soundwave.
Even though his focus was on the Warlord himself, the terse comment had him tense just slightly, clawed digits curling and flexing as he mulled over the spoken words. He expected it, yet to be put on the spot - an order given, with Soundwave as witness - he knew and understood he must comply without fuss, nor protest.
He recognized that he was on thin ice after the events of Haven, and while he had managed to scrabble his favor back into good standing, it was ever the precarious tightrope which he walked.
Meaning he had to stay at least two steps ahead.
As such, he was quick to nod at Megatron’s words, frame shifting to stand up a little taller, wings twitching, though not rising to their full height behind himself.
“T-Then with your permission, I shall take my leave at once and begin updating the necessary schedules, with an aim to begin at first light.” despite the initial stammered word, his optics would not leave Megatron. As much as he wanted to look away, as much as he wanted to leave the room - he would remain standing until either dismissed or ordered otherwise.
It was early, and while they had the entire day to set to task, this was no small undertaking and was something that needed to be planned accordingly, with little rush. This slight delay would hopefully give Soundwave the necessary time to acquire manifests and maps of said locations, making their job as efficient and as swift as possible.
He, meanwhile, would assign those who he felt were capable of doing what was needed. With various fliers at his disposal - including Thundercracker, who he was certain to include as to keep an optic on him - they would make quick work of gathering what was needed, by any means necessary.
Or, so he hoped. After he spoke, he would fall quiet. Optics darting ever so briefly away from the Warlord, before returning to look at him once more as he awaited the order on what to do next, a gentle wing twitch betraying the nervous tension that weighed on his frame, a tension he was desperate to bleed out.