Protective to a fault

Ripclaw for Amber. 

-Ripclaw made a short whine and her eager posture drooped slightly. Her wings tucked close to her body and she glanced down to her claws.-

'Most still with Shockwave. Asleep. But, Skylynx here! And Skystalker. But haven't seen both in a while.... Worried. But Predaking thinks nothing is wrong, so won't worry too much.'

-She then flicked her head up again and nearly bounced in realization.-

'Oh! Have met others on ship? Pretty and friend? Fixed voice! Couldn't speak. Still can't. But...Comm-link? Pretty put in and fixed! Pretty's friend likes sweets!'

-She moved around Razorclaw, tail swaying, as she glanced down the hall. Her tail wagged after she spotted a small group of Vehicons walking and watched them for a moment.-

'Many of them. Confusing because all look the same. But one is big and fun to wrestle with! Smaller ones scared of us. Not sure why... Also, many fliers like Predacons. Keep trying to look for one with weird voice."

-Ripclaw fidgeted for a moment and sat down again.-

Or, well, he did. Before this whole “being sent into the past” snag. Is this universe behind or ahead of his in the timeline? Hmm… he’ll have to find that out. 

"Indeed," he responds simply, intending the answer only for her first question, but finding it fits the second one as well. "Yeah. Prredaking and I met before. I’m from another dimension, though. ‘Nother timeline. Gonna be honest, I was kind of surprised to learn there were Predacons in this world at all." 

'....Oh.'

-She made a soft growl and bowed her head towards the other Predacon in silence. She didn't really understand much of the whole....dimension stuff, even though she's heard about it a few times.-

'But...still Predacons?'

-She stood up again and approached Razorclaw with a short wag to her tail and stared at him.-

He reaches for his high grade and takes a swallow as Predaking speaks.  “It happens, unfortunately,” he says.  “I assume you are aware of these tears that have been occurring?  It is why I questioned your numbers.  These tears make it far too easy to enter and leave the Nemesis without anyone knowing, a large breach in our security.”

'Predaking...'

'Guess so. But prefer to think of Predaking and other Predacons as group. Must look out for each other.'

-She then slowly stands up on all fours and move closer and closer to Razorclaw, head raised in a curious gesture. She lowers her head and softly sniffs at the other Predacon.-

'Know Predaking?'

'Oh!'

-She then makes a friendlier gesture and rolls onto her back. She squirms closer to Razorclaw and wags her tail at him, before pointing the tip at herself for emphasis.-

'Ripclaw!' 

-The Predacon stares up at him and watches him. He said that he was a Predacon too, so that was good enough for Ripclaw.-

For the most part, the predacon has been keeping to himself since he arrived. He politely answers comms when they come to him, and will attend any summons, but otherwise he simply stays out of the way. One might think this is the result of laziness, but Razorclaw is just getting a feel for the dynamics of the ship. It’s so different, so very, vastly different than what he’s used to. 

They have a veritable army of drones, for one thing. Razorclaw’s home timeline is decidedly thin on Decepticons. He doesn’t recognize half of the mechs here, and from what he’s learned from reading (and he has been doing a lot of that since he got here; anyone visiting his temporary quarters will stumble upon the amusing sight of a lion casually sprawled before a row of datapads) the history of this universe’s Cybertron is almost completely different than that of his own. 

It’s a lot to take in. He’s not actively including Onslaught in his investigations, but he’s willing to share what he’s learned if the Combaticons’ leader can bring himself to ask. He knows very well what kind of plots and schemes Onslaught is likely trying to cook up, but keeping him in the dark will do neither of them any favors. 

Razorclaw had been making his way down one of the main corridors in the Nemesis, mainly just for the exercise. His joints have a tendency to lock up if he lies in one place for too long and… well, quite frankly, Razorclaw tends to do just that. 

He pauses, one paw raised, as an unusual scent crosses his olfactory sensors. A predacon has been through here recently, but not Predaking. He’s aware that there are others on the ship, but he hasn’t met them yet, and is frankly quite curious as to what other predacons from this universe are like. He considers tracking the scent, but decides against it. The other predacon might be busy, and it would be better to err on the side of not being a nuisance. 

The decision, as it turns out, is made for him. When he veers down a side passage he very nearly bumps into her, managing to skid to a stop before they collide. He blinks, caught off-guard, and simply stares for a moment.

'....Who?'

-She blinked and slowly moved closer again, caught off guard by how different he looked from Predaking or herself.-

'Predacon?' 

-Slowly, she slinked closer, tail raised high in alert. She mimics his posture and stays in a very similar half-crouched position, flicking her tail back and forth. After a short time, she moves into a sitting position and stares back at him.-

-He was careful with the remaining length - he wasn’t too sure what predacon etiquette was regarding the aft region, but if it was anything like with more typical mechs, the ‘wrong’ touch could give the wrong impression. Not that that usually stopped the medic with some of his patients, but Ripclaw wasn’t exactly his type in terms of proportions …

… and you’re all set!

-He proclaims at last, pulling away after wiping off the last bit of wax into a shine.

Now just try and avoid getting into too many scuffles - ideally this should last you a week, if not longer~

'Yay!'

-Her tail swayed happily as she stepped after Pretty and picked him up in gentle hug.-

'Thanks Pretty!' 

-She innocently rubbed her face against his for a short moment, in an affectionate gesture. She slowly placed Pretty back down and resumed admiring how shiny her armor was now.-

'Almost as pretty as you.'

-She commented and flexed her claws a few time. After a moment, she blinked and frowned, bringing one arm up to her face.-

-Most mechs didn’t have the clearest memories of their forging or the immediate moments that followed - for most it was a general blur of ‘this and that’. It was, after all, hard to form coherent memories. A new processor just come into being was far too engrossed in the data-overload of simply experiencing life for the first time that there was little room for anything else.

That doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary - well, some parts of it, maybe. But then again, you weren’t forged by any conventional means, either.

'Ahhhhhhh.'

-She admires how pretty her armor was turning out to be and clapped her claws together again.-

'Almost done?'

-He explains, pulling the buffer away a moment, to make sure the light bounced off each green plate in the same manner. Satisfied, he moves a bit ways back, hiding more behind Ripclaw’s field of vision as he moves up her tail.

'Oh. Don't remember much from...being forged?'

-She glances down to her claws and flexes them for a short time, tilting her head as she stares down at them.-

'But, remember some things...Happened before being forged. Other Predacons! Many of them. But, also was weird. Wasn't really there. Or Predaking. Just watching.' 

-He hums idly, only half-listening as he works his way down the lengthy collection of plates. Really, self-maintenance was instinct - every Cybertronian knew how to clean himself (even if a certain few preferred not to bother with the ritual and instead wallow in their own filth). This, the whole “shinying” up, was merely an exaggerration of that.

-Ripclaw makes a curious send as she listens to Pretty's story and shifts into a more lax sitting position. She brings her claws together and rests her chin on top of her arms as she watches Pretty.-

'Knew Pretty's friend then?'

In case you haven’t figured it out, I figure your protocols will at least prevent you from hurting yourself~

-He hums, looking over the way the plates folded over one another on the flexible appendage. It would be interesting to buff, that was for sure.

It will certainly compliment the rest of your waxed plating so far, that’s fore sure.

'Takes...time. Pretty patient.'

-She glances from her own shiny armor to Pretty's and tilts her head.-

'How did Pretty learn this?'

It’s your tail - you can’t tell me you haven’t bothered to learn how to wield it after that … ‘unfortunate’ incident.

-He shrugged it off - really, the damage was done, and even then, it wasn’t entirely beyond repair. Well … it was now, but that was due to Skyquake’s intervention and Breakdown’s own dim-witted eagerness to compete in ‘sport’ - the fault had entirely shifted over from the Predacon.

… well?

'... Um. No.' 

-But as he kept staring at her, she fidgeted again and hesitantly moved her tail towards Pretty. She didn't move her gaze off of her tail as she silently nodded to Pretty.-