M8-TE's crib

Oh. Well. Maybe Soundwave should have seen this coming, but honestly, he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t talked to M8-TE since Megatron returned and he’d broken things off with Tarn, had honestly more or less forgotten about the drone in all the hurt he’d felt. He hadn’t thought M8-TE would contact him. And he had no idea what to even reply.

Or, well. He had. Because visiting right now? Was a bad idea. Soundwave wasn’t sure he could keep his promise about not allowing harm to come to the drone.

How could it not be secure on the Nemesis? Was it not Soundwave’s stronghold, so to speak? Still, it was not M8-TE’s place to question. The drone considerd his reply, glancing around. Tremblebit was giggling in a corner, playing some kind of game. It would be easy to get Soundwave over- to drag him out on a walk or flight.

m8-te :

[x]

If M8-TE had looked excited before, he looked ecstatic now.

“I would love to, sir!” he said, actually bouncing closer. “Are ya sure, sir? What kinda fightin’? Are weapons allowed? Can we fly too or just ground? Oh, this! This will be fun, it’s been so long since I really sparred.”

M8-TE was practically squirming with excitement, visor bright, wings held high and flicking not unlike how a dog wagged its tail.

Well. Soundwave hadn’t expected a reaction quite that… eager. It was rather endearing, and extremely refreshing. Soundwave would never dream of suggesting sparring to any of the Eradicons in his own ‘Verse, they would be terrified. He was used to only training with his lord, and since they both had busy schedules, sparring didn’t happen as often as he’d like.

“Suggestion: hand to hand combat, only blades allowed, no flight. Rules: first drop of energon drawn gives point. M8-TE: think it sounds agreeable, have anything he might wish to add?”

The drone shook his head, bouncing on his heels.

Only to have his confusion increase when he stepped through it. He was hardly surprised to see that Tarn had an arm around M8-TE - the tank was touchy, after all. He didn’t like the sight of the scratches Tarn’s claws had left behind, though. That earned Tarn a very disapproving stare, Soundwave tilting his helm to one side while pondering where he should even begin addressing this strange situation.

“Query: what exactly is Soundwave even looking at?”

“Yes. He is mine.” Tarn was about to continue growling some more when he caught the telltale flash of a space bridge from the corner of his optic.

Soundwave. Had M8-Te…?

“A simple conversation,” Tarn answered before M8-TE could even begin to speak. “I had encountered this….fascinating little fellow and since I didn’t recognize him, thought it would be prudent to know who he was. Imagine my surprise when it turned out he knew you. Why didn’t you introduce me to your little….friend?”

Tarn sad friend the way other people might’ve said venereal disease or cosmic rust. His servos left M8-TE to instead lay on Soundwave’s shoulder.

M8-TE hardly listened to Tarn’s silky voice; no, the drone was far more focused on getting away from the mech as quickly as possible. Which was why, the moment Tarn let go, that the drone immediately hurried to stand behind Soundwave.

If they truly were courting, then surely Soundwave would be able to keep the scary mech from hurting M8-TE? That, or he would possibly leave M8-TE to his fate, but the flier rather hoped the superior mech was not so cruel.

So M8-TE ducked behind Soundwave and slid his claws nervously together, not daring to speak up just yet in fear of attracting Tarn’s attention once more.

m8-te :

M8-TE followed without resistance, but his frame was stiff as one could be. His visor was an odd mix of sick purple and alarmed red, but still M8-TE obeyed the stranger.

“I…. I t-think we were s-supposed to find more earth s-specimen, sir,” the drone stuttered the explanation, silently grateful he was not tripping over his own pedes. His walk was far from graceful, impossible to make it so with claws creating pinpricks of pain into his armor. “I ain’t s-sure, sir.”

Then the second question. M8-TE slid his claws together once more, EM fields held tight to his own frame, fearful and wary.

“N-No, sir, I do not- do not believe I’ve seen ya before, sir.” 

“I am Tarn. And I am courting Soundwave.” His claws dug, leaving faint scratches. “Perhaps you can understand why I’m so…involved in his affairs. That is an interesting story about Earth specimens. Do tell me more.”

“Don’t stutter. Surely you are capable of mere conversation, M8-TE. Such behavior is so unseemly. Do you stutter like this around Soundwave, or am I just special?”

The drone was startled by this information, rearing his head back to stare up at Tarn in shock- only to flinch as the claws dug into his armor. M8-TE hurriedly averted his gaze, visor white with shock, green bursts of confusion appearing amongst the white. 

“Ya c-courtin’ sir S-Soundwave?” he asked, unable to hide that shock, the pure surprise. His spark felt like it had been squeezed, but M8-TE did not linger on why. 

Soundwave had never mentioned this. And as M8-TE tried to place the designation, he remembered Cleves’ words. Suddenly Tarn was all the more terrifying, if this was the Tarn that Cleverbot had mentioned. The DJD one, the one who tortured mechs that did not follow his belief. M8-TE clasped his servos together to hide the trembles.

“I a-apologize, s-sir, I- I s-stutter when... anxious, s-sir, I’m- I apologize,” he stuttered, and before M8-TE could change his mind he sent out a frantic comm’ towards @soundless-surveillance

::Sir, ya f-f-fiance? Tarn? W-Wants to talk to me, sir, is- I’m not sure-:: he sent, the message garbled from his terror, but if anyone could understand then surely it was Sir Soundwave. ::What am I s-supposed to do, sir?:: 

“S-Sir Soundwave w-wished for me to… to accompany h-him on a t-trip to… to the A-African continent,” he stuttered, “I- w-with all due r-respect, sir, I, I would- I must tell m-my superior o-officer if… if I can’t make it, an’…” he shuffled his pedes, not daring to step away, but trying his best to not squirm. “An’ e-explain why, sir. D-Doin’ otherwise would… be, be p-punishable, sir.”

Even if Soundwave was not truly his superior, the mech never the less had power over M8-TE. On top of that, the drone considered Soundwave nearly a friend, and losing that odd relationship to this scary mech from out of nowhere, did not sit right with the drone. 

Tarn began to drag the mech away from wherever he’d been trying to go. A nice walk through the corridors would have to do serve.

“I.... I t-think we were s-supposed to find more earth s-specimen, sir,” the drone stuttered the explanation, silently grateful he was not tripping over his own pedes. His walk was far from graceful, impossible to make it so with claws creating pinpricks of pain into his armor. “I ain’t s-sure, sir.”

Then the second question. M8-TE slid his claws together once more, EM fields held tight to his own frame, fearful and wary.

“Speculation: perhaps these are thought to be exceptionally humiliating? Or exceptionally cute. Negative: Soundwave has not encountered others suffering same magical inconvenience.”

His visor grew a rosy pink, and he nervously looked away as Soundwave examined the flowers. M8-TE’s wings did little flicks, but other than that he did not move.

“T-That might be possible, sir,” he agreed, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden. And very, very aware of the closeness and the smattering of biolights, now clearly seen when Laserbeak wasn’t currently docked. “b-but the ones Lady Laserbeak a-are wearing are very, ah, cute, as w-well.”

He paused awkwardly, before hurrying to add;

“N-Not that ya look cute, s-sir, no, I mean, ya look- ya look terrifying! Sir. Of course.”

“S-Sir Soundwave w-wished for me to... to accompany h-him on a t-trip to... to the A-African continent,” he stuttered, “I- w-with all due r-respect, sir, I, I would- I must tell m-my superior o-officer if... if I can’t make it, an’...” he shuffled his pedes, not daring to step away, but trying his best to not squirm. “An’ e-explain why, sir. D-Doin’ otherwise would... be, be p-punishable, sir.”

Even if Soundwave was not truly his superior, the mech never the less had power over M8-TE. On top of that, the drone considered Soundwave nearly a friend, and losing that odd relationship to this scary mech from out of nowhere, did not sit right with the drone. 

“Sorry, sir,” he apologized, shuffling his pedes a bit but the amusement lingered in his voice. Then the drone turned his attention towards Laserbeak, tilting his wings up a bit.

Rather happy with himself, Soundwave flashed M8-TE a smiley, letting the image linger on his screen for a few moments. He felt accomplished in having dispersed any tension which might have remained lingering after he accidentally upset M8-TE.

starter for @m8-te

“You there!” A harsh order, full of authority and the expectation of being obeyed. “Come here.”

The drone jumped, visor going white with shock as he whirled around. But the voice demanded obedience, and so M8-TE nervously made his way over to the stranger- while wondering why this always happened when he was visiting Soundwave. First Lord Megatron, and now this scary, strange mech he had never seen. 

From his chest, Laserbeak undocked, her wing planes re-folding as she dropped into a low swoop before circling M8-TE once. True enough, she was sporting her own little flower crown, and in contrast to Soundwave, she seemed perfectly content with it, happily chittering a few singing notes.

Soundwave watched her with poorly hidden fondness, offering up his arm for her to land on. When she did, he carefully stroked her back, making a show out of shuddering so M8-TE would be able to understand his body language. In this case, he was expressing disgust.

“Sorry, sir,” he apologized, shuffling his pedes a bit but the amusement lingered in his voice. Then the drone turned his attention towards Laserbeak, tilting his wings up a bit.

*leans back* 

“He’s my big brother, an’ the oldest drone in our entire army,” he told Allen. “He’s pretty awesome. If kinda overprotective sometimes…” the flier snickered. “An’ I guess he’s a grounder? He ain’t got no alt, he’s just meant to do lots of other stuff instead an’ he’s pretty cool.”

But M8-TE nodded anyway.

Then the drone nodded, visor flickering to an excited gold and yellow combination.

m8-te :

The drone stood stiffly for a moment, before he dared to take a peek at Soundwave. The mech didn’t look murderous, and slowly M8-TE’s wings rose a little more. A cautios flick to the tips, before the drone nodded.

“Yes, s-sir. I, uh, I k-kinda like it.” He reached up to touch the flowers again, enjoying the feel of soft petals. “I think it looks cute,” M8-TE admitted, carefully not adding that he thought so of Soundwave’s as well. “So y-yeah. They ain’t so bad, sir, I promise.” 

That careful wing flick almost made Soundwave feel guilty about having scared M8-TE. He hadn’t exactly meant to, it had just happened as a result of his annoyance with the flowers. Now, he felt like a bully.

“Statement: bad enough.”

Did M8-TE mean to say he thought he himself looked cute, or that Soundwave looked cute? Unsure, the spy shot him a long look, then finally decided that he’d simply ignore it, turning his helm away again.

“At least Laserbeak enjoys herself.”

M8-TE perked up at that, visor turning into a curious light blue.

M8-TE perked up, looking shiny new.

“Sir!” he greeted the other mech, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Sir, somethin’ happened, I’m- look, I’m younger! Well, I, I mean, ya probably can’t spot the difference, but I am!”

And he truly was; while M8-TE found it a bit odd to be suddenly turned back into a younger self and still retaining all of his memories, he couldn’t say he disliked it. His processor felt right again, fully functional. His frame was new, not a scratch on him, no replaced arms or faulty processor. Just. New. He knew that he was likely clumsier than he used to be, as he was when he first was activated, but…

m8-te :

M8-TE’s visor glowed a bright white and pale gold, wings flicking happily.

“I know ya, sir. Ya gave Tremble a butterfly an’ didn’t get along with Slickride,” he said, still so very chipper. “Sorry, sir, I’m just-” his EM fields fanned out, warm and happy and giddy, “My processor is- I’m- I can think again, sir, I can- I ain’t battle damaged! Now. Like, it’s- everything is okay again, it’s-”

And he squirmed a bit, too giddy to hold completely still.

“I could fight now if I wanted! It’s- it’s just really nice feelin’, sir!” 

M8-TE’s joy was practically contagious, radiating from him like warmth from a fire. It certainly made him seem countless centuries younger, energy and restlessness evident in his every little movement or twitch. It reminded Soundwave of how the twins had acted the very first time they deployed from his armor, trembling with all the opportunities they suddenly had.

“Query: does M8-TE wish to fight? Soundwave: will offer a sparring session if M8-TE would enjoy it?”

Soundwave wouldn’t mind having the offer turned down, it had been meant as more of a recreative activity than actual training. Just a light session, purely for the fun of it. And he had to admit, he was curious - he had been told that M8-TE’s function had made him a major threat to the Autobots. M8-TE had been an extraordinary fighter, and Soundwave would be lying if he denied that he would find it interesting to spar with the drone now.

If M8-TE had looked excited before, he looked ecstatic now.

“I would love to, sir!” he said, actually bouncing closer. “Are ya sure, sir? What kinda fightin’? Are weapons allowed? Can we fly too or just ground? Oh, this! This will be fun, it’s been so long since I really sparred.”