(CO)-CAPTAIN

      Oh! As if on cue, the machine spoke, with audible words. So no, not a machine monster, as even the most powerful are silent so what does that make him?

    He himself rather wouldn’t answer to something like that.

This human seemed to be on the awkward side, considering this was something entirely new to him. Rodimus smiled somewhat, his optics dimming ever so slightly. This was a clean canvas alright. If he would be the first mech that this boy ever saw, he better make a good impression.

But he’s no stranger to such affairs, and Knock Out instead gazed at Rodimus with a deadly combination of curiosity and mischief as he downed another swig of his energon.

“And what brought this on? I’d be flattered if you were really just that interested in my love life, honestly, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a little more to it.”

    Well, he better give the other mech a good answer.

          “Really, it was purely out of curiosity!”

He’s never been a pious individual, but he forwent chastisement in favor of a slightly more amicable approach; a gift of his own, presented in the relieved afterglow of having emerged unscathed.

“You’re a fresh face. And I’m not just talking about here.”

One servo rested on a cocked hip, the other hanging lazily by his side as he appraised the newcomer; not a difficult feat, considering their rather friendly proximity.

“I’d certainly remember someone like you. You’re not exactly forgettable.” His optics roved over the striking hues of red and orange, and he was struck by a sudden nostalgia for the acid wastes. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, now, is it? Sometimes it’s what sets a mech of finer tastes apart from the rest.”

Certainly maintaining such impressive appearances would require a meticulous amount of care, yet he dared not express such admiration to the other. What sort of egotist would he be if he didn’t know the tricks of the trade?

     Well, that... and getting into a fight with one of his own was just bad overall. He hoped that, with the few cybertronians that were here, they could at least craft peace together.

          “Hey hey, look who that’s coming from!”

If anything, Rodimus claimed many metaphorical titles of royalty; not only the king of bad decisions, but he was also the king of bad flirting. Really, really bad flirting. If he had only been a little more self aware he wouldn’t have just made pistol finger gestures at the other mech like he had just now. At the very least he didn’t make ‘pew pew’ noises, now that would have been just embarrassing. 

          “You do know what you’re talking about, you look way fresh yourself you know? Love the finish.”

A small grin tugged at his lips. If he had to use just one word to describe the other mech ‘glossy’ would be perfect. By all definitions of the adjective, for sure. Rodimus had made it no secret that his optics had gone over the other’s frame. It was only natural; looking at someone new from head to toe; or wasn’t it? Well, whatever. What’s been done has been done, and he’d deal with the consequences later. That’s how it always went anyway. 

          “Yeah, Cybertronian for sure. I’m Rodimus of Nyon... And I wish I could discard this badge, but... Well, let’s just say that I tried the whole ‘the war is over there are no sides anymore’ thing before and it ended horribly.”

     But he had noticed him, and he’d even put his hand on him. It was astounding! He craned his neck to properly look up at him, wide-eyed and grinning right back at him.

The only bad thing about this situation right now was the silence; they’ve had their beautiful, quite literally ‘touching’ moment, now was definitely the time to introduce himself.

He knew someone named Arcee, but she was different from this bot. That was weird... Then again,  there were more humans with the same names right? It usually didn’t apply to Cybertronians, but then again, everything was possible in this city,or Rodimus thought.

          “Nice to meet you Arcee! The name’s Rodimus~ I think the fact more Cybertronians are here is somewhat of a silver lining to everything. It’d be kinda bad if I was here all on my own.”

        Within the few seconds of silence that now lingers between them, Drift closes the distance. Uncertain strides were taken, hastened by a feeling of longing– the longing for FAMILIARITY that existed beneath thin armored platings, guiding his every step towards the first and only remnant of a life once so familiar to him. Cerulean optics not once cast themselves away from this fiery-clad mech. Furiously, his spark pulses within, equal parts nervous and anxious. Equal parts dreading this fateful meeting.

        Equal parts OVERJOYED to see Rodimus once more.

        Distance between the two mechs now stands at a mere couple of feet. This presence is unmistakably Rodimus– this presence is equally welcomed as it is treated with caution.

     No, there was something else he focused on, it was the time that Drift said had passed.

          “Months? Drift, it’s been at least two whole years! It’s been two long years and I really, REALLY missed you.”

Other impulses came to the forefront of the mech’s head. He wanted to close the distance between the two of them, put his servos on Drift’s shoulders, smile at him even more. But he decided not to - at least for now he’d leave it like this.

      Not having been in this huge city long enough to be exposed to the more blatantly inhuman residents, Bakura is caught off guard by the sight of what can only be described as a giant robot. He really wished he had a better description prepared, but that is the only thing that truly sums it up. Blinking rapidly, he looked up at the imposing figure, not as giant as he might have imagined when confronted with the term ‘giant robot’ but certainly large enough, at around ten or so feet high, to qualify.

He didn’t quite mind being touched either, but it was still strange. Especially considering that he had been shrunken down when he had arrived. So this human was half his height.

        “… No, way.”

        Breathlessly, Drift utters words of disbelief in shuddering intervals. There’s no mistaking it– red and orange decal coupled with an unmistakable gait equated to none other than Rodimus himself. Months had passed with nary a smidgen of familiarity and it had to be Rodimus to break the monotony of nameless faces.

        Rodimus, whose last moments with Drift were unpleasant for the most part. Under his command (and further underneath being Drift’s own reason and decision thereof) he was stripped of his badge. Stripped of a family who barely wanted him around.

       Truth be told, the feelings in Drift’s chest were conflicting DREAD and RELIEF. Nevertheless… he finds himself calling an old comrade’s name in the dwindling masses.

Usually though, it took one good thought to get this mech out of a rut.

          And the familiar voice that had just reached his audio receptors most certainly did the trick.

In a flash, he turned around, standing face to face with his old friend. Rodimus could almost feel his spark skip a pulse. Really? How was it possible that of all possible encounters, it just had to be the friend he had to personally exile. 

           “Drift?!”

On the surface, he was overjoyed. An obvious smile forming on his faceplate, but underneath the smiles and happiness... He felt an ever increasing sense of guilt. He hadn’t seen Drift in so long. Has he been doing okay? How long has he been part of this experiment? Was it his fault that he even became part of it in the first place?