Ep.1 - 'Elders' - Closed
Sept 26, 2012 16:29:46 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2012 16:29:46 GMT -5
<<Set after 'Would you, could you?'>>
When Optimus had finally descended in the sublevel after Megatronus, Cleaver had waited several long kliks before slowly making her way back to the Atrium. Ironhide was talking to Shadowrunner, his backplates still flared from protocols yet to fully cycle down. Likely they wouldn't until the amnesic warlord was gone from the base.
The medic left him to his cohort-child, rotors tight to her back as she moved along the far wall to the Medbay and to Sunstreaker's berth. Cleaver had no desire to speak to Ironhide until his weapons had cooled, when the inevitable, highly emotional confrontation would be more bearable. She held no illusion that, for all her right to shelter anyone including the Decepticon Commander in her demilitarized Neutral base, Ironhide would still feel no small amount of betrayal that she had actively hidden Megatron's presence from him.
He'd flown off the flight deck when he'd discovered the mostly-healed wound in her side that she'd neglected to inform him off. Keeping a warlord in her basement whilst particularly vulnerable with the last stages of carrying wouldn't go over as well.
From behind the medical screens, Cleaver tracked the movement of mechs in the Atrium as she made minute adjustments to the regrown neural fibers around Sunstreaker's T-Cog. As soon as Optimus had gone to follow Megatronus, she'd turned off her visual feed of the Decepticon in the sublevel. Whatever would transpire between them felt as though it ought to remain private.
She finally emerged from the familiar haven of repair work when the activity in the central chamber of the Neutral base had almost ceased, and found Piston Gasket to be the only mech in sight.
The old mech was still working on the portion of the bar exposed to the Atrium, continuing with the same measured steadiness as before Megatronus had emerged from the tunnel. As if nothing had happened.
Despite herself, Cleaver was drawn to that curious normality like a magnet. Her pedes had taken her quietly to stand several paces from him without her realizing.
"Surprised you're still here workin' on this," she admitted, her optics drawn back to the mouth of the tunnel where Megatronus lingered, weighing on the DMZ like dark matter.
When Optimus had finally descended in the sublevel after Megatronus, Cleaver had waited several long kliks before slowly making her way back to the Atrium. Ironhide was talking to Shadowrunner, his backplates still flared from protocols yet to fully cycle down. Likely they wouldn't until the amnesic warlord was gone from the base.
The medic left him to his cohort-child, rotors tight to her back as she moved along the far wall to the Medbay and to Sunstreaker's berth. Cleaver had no desire to speak to Ironhide until his weapons had cooled, when the inevitable, highly emotional confrontation would be more bearable. She held no illusion that, for all her right to shelter anyone including the Decepticon Commander in her demilitarized Neutral base, Ironhide would still feel no small amount of betrayal that she had actively hidden Megatron's presence from him.
He'd flown off the flight deck when he'd discovered the mostly-healed wound in her side that she'd neglected to inform him off. Keeping a warlord in her basement whilst particularly vulnerable with the last stages of carrying wouldn't go over as well.
From behind the medical screens, Cleaver tracked the movement of mechs in the Atrium as she made minute adjustments to the regrown neural fibers around Sunstreaker's T-Cog. As soon as Optimus had gone to follow Megatronus, she'd turned off her visual feed of the Decepticon in the sublevel. Whatever would transpire between them felt as though it ought to remain private.
She finally emerged from the familiar haven of repair work when the activity in the central chamber of the Neutral base had almost ceased, and found Piston Gasket to be the only mech in sight.
The old mech was still working on the portion of the bar exposed to the Atrium, continuing with the same measured steadiness as before Megatronus had emerged from the tunnel. As if nothing had happened.
Despite herself, Cleaver was drawn to that curious normality like a magnet. Her pedes had taken her quietly to stand several paces from him without her realizing.
"Surprised you're still here workin' on this," she admitted, her optics drawn back to the mouth of the tunnel where Megatronus lingered, weighing on the DMZ like dark matter.