#predatoryking

Continued from here: [x]

‘I have only recently returned from a stelar cycle’s repreve to the woods around Detroit,’ comes Prowls answer. ‘It has helped me to clear processor of problems I could not shake in a shorter span of time.’ Lifting helm to gaze up at the beastformer after he deems his visual bow has been long enough, the black and gold bot then offers a faint but warm smile.

@predatoryking

It was zero five hundred hours pacific time within the western U.S. state of Nevada, one hour before sunrise. At this time, a mech by the designation of Paradox, was going through his earlier solar cycle routine within the Decepticon warship, The Nemesis. Like the Decepticon C.S.O (Chief Scientific Officer) Shockwave, Paradox was a scientist, specializing in two specific fields of study. Psychology and palaeontology. Now while Shockwave had his own lab created for him outside of the Nemesis, Paradox himself was not gifted with such luxuries. Instead, the scientist had his personal quarters rebuilt into a small but efficient unit for his studies. He rarely used his quarters anyways, even for recharge.

Green optics blinked slowly in a relaxed manner as the mech they belonged to looked over the observational data made the night before. Paradox hummed in thought as he took a small sip of energon from his morning rations, a clawed digit slowly scrolling through the transcribed reports complied on his personal data pad. Perched comfortably upon a metal stool in front of his makeshift desk/lab bench. However, he was soon interrupted from his musings by the soft clicks and chitters of an awakening new spark.

"Imitate??" The great fire-drake let a little huff of smoke out from his massive snout, and a rumbling of a chuckle emanated from his throat. "Well, aren't you the most interesting being to trespass into my Kingdom... I am Smaug! The greatest of all dragons this Middle-earth has ever seen. The King of the Mountain!"

As he spoke, his wings slowly unfurled from the piles of golden treasure they had been hidden under, as well as the rest of his large bulk of neck and body. There was more yet beneath the trinkets, as his form took up most of the space in this area, blotting out what little light did trickle in from the shafts many miles above them.

"What do you think of flesh so perfect, my little metallic kin??"

//come at me bruv

*Tosses a dragon biscuit*

The deity perks on clawed pedes at the sight of a rare visitor to his domain. Predacons did not frequent the Grove where Fadewalker resided, and usually they passed through instead of lingering amongst a crystaline canopy to take refuge. However this one Celatum was familiar with - they had spoken before.

Clearing ventilation softly the shadow cloaked mecha offers Predaking a gentle quirk of lip components in a friendly smile whenever amber optics focus on him. Curling tail behind frame, the deity inclines helm in greeting as engines rumble in a hum.

Send 🔪 and my muse will give your muse a weapon that they think would suit them.

What Predaking gets is a thermal broadsword - conveniently a deep orange and black in coloration. The edge was offline at the moment, but when activated it would burn hot enough to do serious damage to any mecha beneath it. But how in Primus’ name had Prowl managed to even get ahold of what resembled a relic for Predaking? The weapon happened to be stowed away in the bowels of Teletran 1. Yet he had found it, and towed it out cycles ago.

The beastformer would put better use to it than dust if he accepted it.

Doing his best to hold the sword out for the dragon to recieve, the small bike is ultimately defeated by its weight. Therefore, he resorts to wedging its jagged tip into the dirt between himself and the tall mech.