Welcome To The Underground

“…”

“Rude.”

“Oh hello there! Are you a knight as well?”

Not only was he indeed a knight, though proclaimed, but one already showcasing himself knee bent down and a deepest helm bow for his glorious introduction.

             Wʜᴇɴ TWO ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇ﹐ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴊᴜsᴛ SHINES ~ ✧

The gold and red femme glanced up from her rune translation work and at the large and regal looking being.

She had been pretending to not notice him staring at her the past several days as she did tasks at the desk that Shockwave had assigned her, but found it increasingly difficult to keep up the charade.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with sir?” She finally inquired.

Predaking wasn’t leering, if that’s what the femme was assuming. A few days ago, Shockwave held a brief conversation with him, explaining to not bother her work, before heading off to his lab. Not surprised by the cold shoulder, he simply decided to watch from afar.

There wasn’t really a way to be subtle with his minor observations without being overbearing when Predaking’s rather tall, towering even Megatron by a few. So when her vocalizer interrupts the silence of the room and awknowleges his presence, he perks up suddenly.

He slinks over to the desk, his optics collecting details of the femme, and her work so far.

“Only in giving information. Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before, and your scent certainly doesn’t seem familiar so what are you doing here for Shockwave?” He leans against the desk, shooting questions that sounded a bit accusatory of her intentions.

It didn’t necessarily feel prickly or angry to her. Mostly just oozing curiosity, but it still felt like it had a bit of ‘spice’ to it. A bit of prideful territorial protectiveness or dangerousness perhaps? Whatever it was- it made her instinctively and subtly shrink back a bit.

She took in a long, slow deep breath before giving the mech her answer.

“I’m called Holos. I’m translating stuff on relics that’s written in primal vernacular. Megatron… ‘hired’ me for the gig.”

His defenses are still a bit prickly even if she is just a simple translator. Often times, Predaking felt the need to establish his place amongst unfamiliar bots. Mainly Predacon instinct, behavioral code stemming from eons ago.

Holos bit her tone and resisted the urge to scold her new acquaintance for grabbing a potentially delicate artifact without asking a professional, quickly remembering the fact that she was a glorified prisoner.

“Either a relic of power or useful information from the ancients probably.” Holos said with a shrug.

He clears his processor of that train of thought and pretends to inspect it some more just so he could hold onto it for a bit. “Well, Megatron could be onto something…” not that he cared.

“Um yesss…?” The gold and red knight answered hesitantly as she shifted in her seat, uncertain if he would get upset at her claim.

The gold and red femme glanced up from her rune translation work and at the large and regal looking being.

She had been pretending to not notice him staring at her the past several days as she did tasks at the desk that Shockwave had assigned her, but found it increasingly difficult to keep up the charade.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with sir?” She finally inquired.

Predaking wasn’t leering, if that’s what the femme was assuming. A few days ago, Shockwave held a brief conversation with him, explaining to not bother her work, before heading off to his lab. Not surprised by the cold shoulder, he simply decided to watch from afar.

There wasn’t really a way to be subtle with his minor observations without being overbearing when Predaking’s rather tall, towering even Megatron by a few. So when her vocalizer interrupts the silence of the room and awknowleges his presence, he perks up suddenly.

He slinks over to the desk, his optics collecting details of the femme, and her work so far.

“Only in giving information. Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before, and your scent certainly doesn’t seem familiar so what are you doing here for Shockwave?” He leans against the desk, shooting questions that sounded a bit accusatory of her intentions.

It didn’t necessarily feel prickly or angry to her. Mostly just oozing curiosity, but it still felt like it had a bit of ‘spice’ to it. A bit of prideful territorial protectiveness or dangerousness perhaps? Whatever it was- it made her instinctively and subtly shrink back a bit.

She took in a long, slow deep breath before giving the mech her answer.

“I’m called Holos. I’m translating stuff on relics that’s written in primal vernacular. Megatron… ‘hired’ me for the gig.”

His defenses are still a bit prickly even if she is just a simple translator. Often times, Predaking felt the need to establish his place amongst unfamiliar bots. Mainly Predacon instinct, behavioral code stemming from eons ago.

Holos bit her tone and resisted the urge to scold her new acquaintance for grabbing a potentially delicate artifact without asking a professional, quickly remembering the fact that she was a glorified prisoner.

“Either a relic of power or useful information from the ancients probably.” Holos said with a shrug.

The gold and red femme glanced up from her rune translation work and at the large and regal looking being.

She had been pretending to not notice him staring at her the past several days as she did tasks at the desk that Shockwave had assigned her, but found it increasingly difficult to keep up the charade.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with sir?” She finally inquired.

Predaking wasn’t leering, if that’s what the femme was assuming. A few days ago, Shockwave held a brief conversation with him, explaining to not bother her work, before heading off to his lab. Not surprised by the cold shoulder, he simply decided to watch from afar.

There wasn’t really a way to be subtle with his minor observations without being overbearing when Predaking’s rather tall, towering even Megatron by a few. So when her vocalizer interrupts the silence of the room and awknowleges his presence, he perks up suddenly.

He slinks over to the desk, his optics collecting details of the femme, and her work so far.

“Only in giving information. Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before, and your scent certainly doesn’t seem familiar so what are you doing here for Shockwave?” He leans against the desk, shooting questions that sounded a bit accusatory of her intentions.

It didn’t necessarily feel prickly or angry to her. Mostly just oozing curiosity, but it still felt like it had a bit of ‘spice’ to it. A bit of prideful territorial protectiveness or dangerousness perhaps? Whatever it was- it made her instinctively and subtly shrink back a bit.

She took in a long, slow deep breath before giving the mech her answer.

“I’m called Holos. I’m translating stuff on relics that’s written in primal vernacular. Megatron… ‘hired’ me for the gig.”

His defenses are still a bit prickly even if she is just a simple translator. Often times, Predaking felt the need to establish his place amongst unfamiliar bots. Mainly Predacon instinct, behavioral code stemming from eons ago.

The gold and red femme glanced up from her rune translation work and at the large and regal looking being.

She had been pretending to not notice him staring at her the past several days as she did tasks at the desk that Shockwave had assigned her, but found it increasingly difficult to keep up the charade.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with sir?” She finally inquired.

Predaking wasn’t leering, if that’s what the femme was assuming. A few days ago, Shockwave held a brief conversation with him, explaining to not bother her work, before heading off to his lab. Not surprised by the cold shoulder, he simply decided to watch from afar.

There wasn’t really a way to be subtle with his minor observations without being overbearing when Predaking’s rather tall, towering even Megatron by a few. So when her vocalizer interrupts the silence of the room and awknowleges his presence, he perks up suddenly.

He slinks over to the desk, his optics collecting details of the femme, and her work so far.

“Only in giving information. Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before, and your scent certainly doesn’t seem familiar so what are you doing here for Shockwave?” He leans against the desk, shooting questions that sounded a bit accusatory of her intentions.

It didn’t necessarily feel prickly or angry to her. Mostly just oozing curiosity, but it still felt like it had a bit of ‘spice’ to it. A bit of prideful territorial protectiveness or dangerousness perhaps? Whatever it was- it made her instinctively and subtly shrink back a bit.

She took in a long, slow deep breath before giving the mech her answer.

“I’m called Holos. I’m translating stuff on relics that’s written in primal vernacular. Megatron… ‘hired’ me for the gig.”

“that’s too small. i’m not going in there.”

She had gotten tired of crouching to get to other folk’s eye level.

With that task completed, the two cyber-organics suddenly found themselves having some unexpected free time.