THIRD IN COMMAND: SOUNDWAVE

At the moment, however- he's relieved that Arcee isn't going to judge him. Not that he had expected her to, but the reassurance is welcome. The intensity of his gaze still rests on her, giving absolutely undivided attention. A stray thought passes from him to her, idly querying about her knowing chronolinguistics. It's less a question, and simply a stray process that brushes the outside of her neural net.

'You are very brave,' his words returning to brush against her processor. 'To admit your own shortcomings, and embrace them. Mechanisms try to... stop them, to get rid of them- but shortcomings are also advantages.'

His own micro-expressions resume as he continues the conversation.

'Honesty is a rare occurrence- even to one's self. It is, again, refreshing.'

His field's corona fizzles with delight again, as well as that gentle, welcoming brush of ionization against her's. Of course he doesn't mind if they do this again. In fact, there's a certain amount of eagerness there- to sync with someone and to share time and space with them. He is, despite his aloofness- something of a mech that enjoys company.

'I cannot give you all of my secrets, not now. However, I will happily answer as many questions as you would like to ask.'

His attention is diverted as a shadow wings inwards, the small smile on his face widens as Laserbeak spirals overhead into small concentric circles, before gently alighting on his knee joint.

Those bright, red-gold optics peer at Arcee as her helm cocks. Metallic platelets rise in excitement as she recognizes the femme.

'You came! You came! Soundwave felt very excited- so I wanted to see! Hello, Arcee!'

Her voice is as cheerful as ever, twittery and bright. Soundwave's face pulls an expression of long-suffering, but it's tinged with fondness. His vocalizer clicks on, and he gives his symbiote a wry look.

"Laserbeak: impatient."

" I think we all have right to it. I know my case is different... you would know everything in a blink - and I... I lack ability to do defend or do the same." she smiles. " Talking about trust, I don't think I have to convince mine further. But I do am curious to other things..."

Another field entering is very familiar to Arcee, one she immediately recognizes. The first, who was brave enough to approach her first, then Ravage, long before the host took direct contact to her.

" Oh Laserbeak, I wouldn't miss an opportunity. " She chuckles at the comments exchanged between the deployer and the deploy. Delicate digits reach to stroke the top of her helm for a greeting. " You are like a... family."

And she doesn't say it lightly. Bot who has lost her entire family in the beginning of the war, the team provided escape from solitude she so feared. Who hoped to surround herself with many sparks as she could. She was happy to found mechanisms within their troops. Yet such times would be only temporary.

She was thankful having found these meaningful connections - along with someone to feel such a strong bond, despite the rough start.

He wouldn't do that.

This place is sacrosanct for him, and despite his reputation amongst the Autobots and non-affiliated mechanisms, he's not a monster. No, that sort of title belongs to others. Towards the truly cruel mechanisms that delight in the pain of others, and seek to draw it out. The spymaster won't deny that occasionally that desire for vengeance or to hurt as he was hurt does not slip out.

He is not omnipotent, after all.

The vocalizer kicks on, those lilac-and-lavender optics flickering over to her as his lips twitch into a faint smile.

"Soundwave: trusts Arcee. Grateful: for your trust."

Laserbeak twitters her own little laugh as she steps to the leg closest to the petite femme. The elegant line of her helm dips underneath that hand, allowing herself to be touched with a pinning of her optics. Their dilation decreases and increases with the oscillation of her spark- denoting her delight.

Ravage is a bit more aloof as she makes her way over. That doesn't mean that Arcee is not greeted. No, the pantherine femme gently presses the flat of her forehelm against the other's shoulder for a moment— before padding over to settle on her own berth. One of her thin cables snakes out to gather the energon container Soundwave has left for her.

He watches as she slips the end of the tube in to start siphoning, before returning to Arcee again. Laserbeak laughs softly as well.

"Ravage is thirsty! Finished patrol, we both did. Nothing new, Soundwave. The humans still haven't figured us out." He nods at that, then gives Arcee an amused look.

"This base: shielded with cloaking technology. Shockwave: brilliant. Shockwave: also in hiding. Decepticons: scattered."

While they've been linked up- his backdoor processes have been gently defragging the data in her banks. He hasn't changed, or moved anything- only taking out the trash data to make her processor feel a little better. It's something he does to himself on the regular, as being a receptacle of so much information makes for ghost files.

And those have to be cleared out, or else one could suffer a crash.

He does, out of courtesy, provide her the event logs of him doing so- which includes where he went, and what was removed. It's something he was very used to doing with his Liege, though those days have passed. There had been things not even his formidable programming prowess had been able to fix, and data corrupted via some esoteric energon consumption is at the top of that list.

'Your darkness is part of you,' he rumbles in her "audials"- his digital vocal pattern reverberating. 'As is mine. There is truth in data. Truth in the Uplink. Hosts like myself prefer not to lie, as it corrupts data- causing issues later. I can, and do exaggerate.'

One shoulder-strut flexes upwards in an absent shrug.

'I do not feel the need to do so with you. You are...' here, his optics flick away as he searches his word banks for an appropriate term that fits his partner. 'Refreshing. Your emotional subroutines make sense. Your command processes are logical, only augmented by emotional branches. You are passionately expressive.'

Those optics flick back to her, faceplates still tilted down so they're close together.

'I admire that. It is why I have my mask. Emotions are easy to hide in the field. Not so much on my face.'

That little smile turns into a wry grin, before a moue of surprise morphs his face into something like wonder. Not many mechs would voluntarily link up with a Host. There are some risks associated, of course- with one system accidentally overriding another. This is why mechs like him are brought online with special protocols to help tether the full force of their interfacial strength to a non-lethal level.

" And I choose to lie and hide... even to myself, I can deny, but my emotions would take the best of me. I guess don't want pain of mine to be held against me, if that makes sense. Here, I have to be honest, to myself too. "

It feels odd to ever admit it, while he could possibly sense the emotion she constantly tried to bury under a veil of aggression. Those unhandled emotions, which didn't disappear, no matter how much she denied the existence.

Half lidded optics remain in his, focusing at times for the scars - his mouth in form of a tiny smile, that doesn't move for words, even when she hears his voice. That smirk and shift as he hears her request, caught.

Surprise, understandable. Being in her position now - knowing the history, would have been unheard of, even to herself back in service. Even to this day, it would be unheard of, volunteering to give herself to a giant that terrified the entire Team. No one would understand. But she had seen his other side... the genuine one, she now felt.

" Ah, I just hope this wouldn't be the one and only time." her smile spreads a little, helm tilting to the side. Perhaps, there is more to it she wasn't aware of. Not that she wished it to be anything regular or permanent. Rather, something special.

" To be this close to you... should be treated as a special occasion. In the same time, I hardly know how you function as a host."

At the moment, however- he's relieved that Arcee isn't going to judge him. Not that he had expected her to, but the reassurance is welcome. The intensity of his gaze still rests on her, giving absolutely undivided attention. A stray thought passes from him to her, idly querying about her knowing chronolinguistics. It's less a question, and simply a stray process that brushes the outside of her neural net.

'You are very brave,' his words returning to brush against her processor. 'To admit your own shortcomings, and embrace them. Mechanisms try to... stop them, to get rid of them- but shortcomings are also advantages.'

His own micro-expressions resume as he continues the conversation.

'Honesty is a rare occurrence- even to one's self. It is, again, refreshing.'

His field's corona fizzles with delight again, as well as that gentle, welcoming brush of ionization against her's. Of course he doesn't mind if they do this again. In fact, there's a certain amount of eagerness there- to sync with someone and to share time and space with them. He is, despite his aloofness- something of a mech that enjoys company.

'I cannot give you all of my secrets, not now. However, I will happily answer as many questions as you would like to ask.'

His attention is diverted as a shadow wings inwards, the small smile on his face widens as Laserbeak spirals overhead into small concentric circles, before gently alighting on his knee joint.

Those bright, red-gold optics peer at Arcee as her helm cocks. Metallic platelets rise in excitement as she recognizes the femme.

'You came! You came! Soundwave felt very excited- so I wanted to see! Hello, Arcee!'

Her voice is as cheerful as ever, twittery and bright. Soundwave's face pulls an expression of long-suffering, but it's tinged with fondness. His vocalizer clicks on, and he gives his symbiote a wry look.

"Laserbeak: impatient."

She's given a wave of relief, and of gratitude across his field. He lets it linger, like waves rippling from a rock dropped into a still pond- before he's lifting her hand up and gently brushing open the port at her wrist. The cable sockets in neatly, painlessly- the handshake a neat, tidy thing that suddenly opens up the proverbial floodgates.

Data begins to sync between the two, calmly at first. As he's said, it's a physical sensation for a Host-mech like himself. It ebbs and flows like the tide, each time adding a little data and then withdrawing with the same amount. It allows their spark oscillations to sync a bit more in time, the pulse of their fields intermeshing into a seamless one.

In this- too, she can hear his 'voice' across that handshake. It rumbles in her processor as if it were whispered near the audials, surprisingly sonorous.

And gently lyrical.

'There are far less limitations this way,' the words vibrate- gently rattling her plating. 'Easier for me to parse words, than rely just on my vocalizer.'

His face is still turned towards her, like nightshade to the sun. Even with the fissures on his faceplates, his expression is not hard to read. There's delight there, at her willingness to link up with him. She can feel it so much more this way, a direct uplink that feeds the packets directly into her system. The delight is palpable, definitive, tactile.

'I am grateful that you trust me,' he continues, mouth still and tilted up at the corners. 'My symbiotes, my companions- they are wonderful to sync with. However, it is different when you do this with someone who has a different handshake.'

He turns that hand again, the two of remaining connected- and brings it to his forehelm to rest there for a moment.

The connection finalized, the built up anticipation releases immediately. The slightest resistance by instinct fades, submitting completely to the host's rhythm and flow. His voice building clear and complete sentences.

This deeper connection to another could only happen in a state like this. To share feelings and experiences. Unexplainable, but a pleasing experience. For a while, her optics had closed, but open once more to witness his expressions sync with the broadcast. Insecurities she feared to reveal, bothered her no longer. Sharing that same calmness.

" It's lovely... to feel and hear you. You know, I could get addicted to this. I feared my darkness might intimidate... but now, it doesn't feel so pressuring. "

Smile radiates the same comfort she shares. Small digits flex and press against the roughed features, a small caress with those dull tips, lacking any sharpness. Her frame that gently leans against his - the Autobot's overall features were so soft in contrast, excluding the unique edges of her armour and wings. A sign of a curious, distant ancestry.

While they've been linked up- his backdoor processes have been gently defragging the data in her banks. He hasn't changed, or moved anything- only taking out the trash data to make her processor feel a little better. It's something he does to himself on the regular, as being a receptacle of so much information makes for ghost files.

And those have to be cleared out, or else one could suffer a crash.

He does, out of courtesy, provide her the event logs of him doing so- which includes where he went, and what was removed. It's something he was very used to doing with his Liege, though those days have passed. There had been things not even his formidable programming prowess had been able to fix, and data corrupted via some esoteric energon consumption is at the top of that list.

'Your darkness is part of you,' he rumbles in her "audials"- his digital vocal pattern reverberating. 'As is mine. There is truth in data. Truth in the Uplink. Hosts like myself prefer not to lie, as it corrupts data- causing issues later. I can, and do exaggerate.'

One shoulder-strut flexes upwards in an absent shrug.

'I do not feel the need to do so with you. You are...' here, his optics flick away as he searches his word banks for an appropriate term that fits his partner. 'Refreshing. Your emotional subroutines make sense. Your command processes are logical, only augmented by emotional branches. You are passionately expressive.'

Those optics flick back to her, faceplates still tilted down so they're close together.

'I admire that. It is why I have my mask. Emotions are easy to hide in the field. Not so much on my face.'

That little smile turns into a wry grin, before a moue of surprise morphs his face into something like wonder. Not many mechs would voluntarily link up with a Host. There are some risks associated, of course- with one system accidentally overriding another. This is why mechs like him are brought online with special protocols to help tether the full force of their interfacial strength to a non-lethal level.

The grasping claws are located on the outer edge of the housing, but inside are thinner filaments- not unlike threads, or perhaps- fiber cables. These wave and sway like fronds in an invisible sea, glowing the same indigo as his biolights. At the end of those little fronds are little indents. It's these indents that allow him access to the inner parts of most consoles.

However, they're retracted gently back into the center of the main cable itself- protected by bands of tough protosteel and mesh. This allows them to be strong, resistant, but also flexible.

"Hosts: rare. Soundwave: one of two known remaining. Other: Blaster, Autobot. Location: uknown. Coordinates: last deciphered in Cygus Sector."

He'd kept close tabs on his rival, partially for the fact that there are only two mechanisms that can come close to his talents in hacking and espionage.

And partially because part of him had hoped that once the War ended, they could have reached some middle ground. After all, once upon an eon- Steeljaw and Ravage had been companions, and Sundor had watched over Buzzsaw and Laserbeak. Blaster had been instrumental in the early stages of the Resistance.

He allows himself another deep sigh, though this one silent. A slight moue of something like sorrow ripples across his field before it disappears, and he gives her an apologetic look.

"Apologies. Soundwave: remembering. Memories: some good. Not all."

The spymaster shakes himself slightly, bringing himself back to the conversation at hand. A few notations are made in the formidable annals of his processor, a reminder to see if he can't find his erstwhile rival and attempt to reconcile. There are so few of them left.

Helm turns, gaze withdraws from the cable to look at his face plates - how much she could see that he couldn't dress in words.

" I require no apologies, memories can easily be... both lovely and painful." Arcee if anyone, understands that. Her optics remained at his face. The rare hue of his optics, the twitches as he focuses. Frustration? So far, she could tell. Her hand, brushes gently over the large digits of his. Comforting. Words were easy to her, in both good and bad, boosting her expression of emotions - never hidden from the World.

Aware of the challenge, potentially source of his irritation, she gives him take time to speak before an answer.

" Yes." She brings the hand closer to her frame. Her spark, the most vulnerable. Such a simple word is her response, along with a silent gesture. Words were easy to her, in both good and bad. Now, she brushes aside the light tone and jokes. Focusing to speaking silently, that another form of art he may have been more familiar with.

Her optics set at his, gaze so gentle, her face plates never hiding how she felt: fear beneath anger, joy, sadness. Now, serene and calm. Comfortable under his veil. In silence, she does feel the tiny messages within the field, the small inquiries. That quiet pause lingers for a moment. She isn't sure whether her through process could translate as clear as his. So, she adds, just to clarify:

She's given a wave of relief, and of gratitude across his field. He lets it linger, like waves rippling from a rock dropped into a still pond- before he's lifting her hand up and gently brushing open the port at her wrist. The cable sockets in neatly, painlessly- the handshake a neat, tidy thing that suddenly opens up the proverbial floodgates.

Data begins to sync between the two, calmly at first. As he's said, it's a physical sensation for a Host-mech like himself. It ebbs and flows like the tide, each time adding a little data and then withdrawing with the same amount. It allows their spark oscillations to sync a bit more in time, the pulse of their fields intermeshing into a seamless one.

In this- too, she can hear his 'voice' across that handshake. It rumbles in her processor as if it were whispered near the audials, surprisingly sonorous.

And gently lyrical.

'There are far less limitations this way,' the words vibrate- gently rattling her plating. 'Easier for me to parse words, than rely just on my vocalizer.'

His face is still turned towards her, like nightshade to the sun. Even with the fissures on his faceplates, his expression is not hard to read. There's delight there, at her willingness to link up with him. She can feel it so much more this way, a direct uplink that feeds the packets directly into her system. The delight is palpable, definitive, tactile.

'I am grateful that you trust me,' he continues, mouth still and tilted up at the corners. 'My symbiotes, my companions- they are wonderful to sync with. However, it is different when you do this with someone who has a different handshake.'

He turns that hand again, the two of remaining connected- and brings it to his forehelm to rest there for a moment.

½ = How the character feels about people taller or shorter than them

± = The character and what they think about math

† = How the character feels about murder

@ = How the character appears online

¥ = How the character handles money or spends it

° = The character’s temperature preferences 

æ = The character and languages (Known or Want to Learn)

↔ = The character’s ability to read directions

♥ = Character’s preference for relationships (sexuality, type of person, etc.)

zzz= What time the character enjoys sleep or being awake

☂ = Weather the character enjoys

♪ = What music the character likes

( =①ω①=) = What animals the character likes and if they have a pet/pets

(・∀・ ) = The character’s emotional state most of the time

☆～（ゝ。∂）= How the character greets people

⊙﹏☉ = What flusters the character

(≧∇≦) = What makes the character happy

(/□＼*)・゜ = What makes the character blush

(;╹⌓╹) = What scares the character

（；へ：） = What makes the character cry

(´ q ` ” ) = The character’s “guilty” pleasure

（・□・；） = What makes the character uncomfortable

(*^◇^)_旦 = What the character likes to eat and drink

｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ = What makes the character laugh

(´；Д；｀) = What worries the character

(⑅ ‘﹃’ ) = What the character daydreams or thinks about

"Yes," he bobs his helm in agreement- oddly expressive without his mask. "Data: stored until needed-" though here he shakes his helm. "Burden: no. Soundwave: enjoys data carriage. Knowledge: worth having."

He has to pause in his speaking, reaching over to take a pull of his filtered energon from nearby. His vocalizer was never properly rebuilt, so speaking for him is usually at a minimal. However, for her, he makes more of the effort as they're still learning how to be around one another without fighting.

Once his vocalizer is reset, and cooled down by the energon- he resumes.

"Data transfer: intimate," he repeats, a little softer. "Data: can be felt as physical sensation. Cables: used for uplink, have sensor clusters. Clusters: sensitive, can be-" he falters slightly in comparison.

Purple optics narrow in thought as he rummages through his language banks for the proper words. The term keeps slipping through his keen processor- and he shrugs, hoping she can get the inference from that.

" I recognize him as a great artist when it comes to words. Much later I found out his work... I couldn't deny some of it resonating with me. This is more I ever owned before the need of disposal. Thank you."

The datapad is briefly looked through, held close to the spark with her free hand, before it finds a place in a container. Such treasure she would have to indulge in, later.

Right now, the freed hand joins to hold his hand, as he took a well-deserved pause. Even Arcee hasn't heard him speak this much in one day. These gestures of trust from a mechanism notoriously silent and solitary. She couldn't always read him, as he did her, but his openess now let her peer little more within the mech's processor.

Such open conversation, is much appreciated by her.

" Got you." She assures as he shrugs, letting him finish with the explanation - her spark feels warm within her armour. A mixture of acknowledging her vulnerability before him, and trust to overcome it. Tension which draws her only closer.

" You're the first mech I know having them. Didn't think data exchange could be exciting, other than a chore to get done with for upgrades and procedures. But I am speaking of mere devices. With you, I have no doubts. Your firewall alone has a kick to it, surprised me, for sure. I don't usually trust my frame with many... well, obvious reasons. " With a chuckle, his hand earns a small squeeze. Arcee's comments may remain light-hearted and half-joking, but between the lines, she wants him to know: she wouldn't hesitate a second.

The grasping claws are located on the outer edge of the housing, but inside are thinner filaments- not unlike threads, or perhaps- fiber cables. These wave and sway like fronds in an invisible sea, glowing the same indigo as his biolights. At the end of those little fronds are little indents. It's these indents that allow him access to the inner parts of most consoles.

However, they're retracted gently back into the center of the main cable itself- protected by bands of tough protosteel and mesh. This allows them to be strong, resistant, but also flexible.

"Hosts: rare. Soundwave: one of two known remaining. Other: Blaster, Autobot. Location: uknown. Coordinates: last deciphered in Cygus Sector."

He'd kept close tabs on his rival, partially for the fact that there are only two mechanisms that can come close to his talents in hacking and espionage.

And partially because part of him had hoped that once the War ended, they could have reached some middle ground. After all, once upon an eon- Steeljaw and Ravage had been companions, and Sundor had watched over Buzzsaw and Laserbeak. Blaster had been instrumental in the early stages of the Resistance.

He allows himself another deep sigh, though this one silent. A slight moue of something like sorrow ripples across his field before it disappears, and he gives her an apologetic look.

"Apologies. Soundwave: remembering. Memories: some good. Not all."

The spymaster shakes himself slightly, bringing himself back to the conversation at hand. A few notations are made in the formidable annals of his processor, a reminder to see if he can't find his erstwhile rival and attempt to reconcile. There are so few of them left.

Following a mech nearly to the road of madness, before being able to pull one's self back.

"Soundwave: enjoys Arcee's observations. Arcee: observant. Soundwave: admires this. Soundwave: prefers blunt speaking. Subterfuge: understood, but not always needed."

That all, doesn't matter now, as she gently places her hand on his, curling over the edge for a small squeeze. Such a contrast were her hands never seen tough labour, or true struggle of survival. Whatever injuries inflicted, Ratchet had earned his reputation.

She then tries to peer over at the datapad, even if the gylphs were unknown to her. Perhaps, she hoped to understand something. Maybe, she didn't have talent, but for sure, she had curiosity. Pleased to hear, he was willing to share and feed that curiosity.

" So data could be taken and deposit in need... imagined carrying all would be a burden, emotionally and practically." She nods, though, there was always a chance she had missed a point. This concept, she could understand. Having done small data scanning and transfers herself. Even to this day, she stored her choreographies for the shows. Switching and mixing into combat sets. Simple procedures, as the data was just skill based.

" Personal? Like... between mechs. " The azure wings tense a bit, before fluttering, return in the idle state. The only change in her demeanor - as her imagination clearly took a free route there, trying push it aside before he caught it, though there was no hurt if he did. Of course, she pondered what it might feel like.

" ...I could imagine that as a personal data... to actually understand and feel what other is feeling? To share experiences or just favourite things." She shrugged, thinking about the synchronization between two systems.

"Yes," he bobs his helm in agreement- oddly expressive without his mask. "Data: stored until needed-" though here he shakes his helm. "Burden: no. Soundwave: enjoys data carriage. Knowledge: worth having."

He has to pause in his speaking, reaching over to take a pull of his filtered energon from nearby. His vocalizer was never properly rebuilt, so speaking for him is usually at a minimal. However, for her, he makes more of the effort as they're still learning how to be around one another without fighting.

Once his vocalizer is reset, and cooled down by the energon- he resumes.

"Data transfer: intimate," he repeats, a little softer. "Data: can be felt as physical sensation. Cables: used for uplink, have sensor clusters. Clusters: sensitive, can be-" he falters slightly in comparison.

Purple optics narrow in thought as he rummages through his language banks for the proper words. The term keeps slipping through his keen processor- and he shrugs, hoping she can get the inference from that.