#theslagmaker

Well...it wasn’t as if Redstrike could have avoided a run-in with Megatron forever. Even this one. Though he would have preferred his own. It was, perhaps, his own fault for deciding to explore closer to the Decepticon’s territory, curious as ever about the alternates of his friends and comrades. 

Send 🤝 to hold my muse’s hand

@theslagmaker​​

🤝

Surprisingly, Soundwaves servo’s were not moving. At lest not as much as before as digits occasionally tap against the smooth surface in front of him. Looks like he might end up being lost in thought over something. 

A delay in response as he felt someone taking hold of his servo. Biolights flickering, seeming to pull himself back from the storm clouding his processors. Granted, there was still a few moments of processing that the other is holding his servo. Once everything clicked back into place, Soundwave’s thin digits holds Megatrons. 

Send 💍 to be my Muses arranged fiance!

The blue femme walked the halls down the Nemesis as she made her way to Megatron’s throne hall. The fact that she was walking calmly and not speeding down the halls as if her life depended on it made her uneasy. This was more than a little unusual for her, but she took comfort in the fact that at least it wasn’t the Megatron from her universe, but she were to be bonded with a Megatron, which made her both nervous and intrigued.

The actions leading up to her current predicament were many and quite frankly, didn’t matter anymore. The suggestion of a peace offering had been thrown around for a while, but what made her volunteer she couldn’t say. Perhaps it was desperation or morbid curiosity, maybe this Megatron wasn’t as bad as the one she had fought against for endless cycles.

Walking into the hall, she walked up to the silver mech, not saying a word for the time being. She had seen him kill mechs for seemingly no reason, while life itself wasn’t too precious to her anymore, she didn’t wish to die here and be discarded among with the trash.

If one knows how to touch, it's not difficult to make Megatron purr.

It shouldn't be a surprise, then, that one of his alternates might know how to touch him- who would know him better? And so when a servo rubs under his chin, Megatron finds his optics dimming, and he leans into it, engine stuttering in surprise before evening out into a low rumble of a purr that makes his own plating rattle a little.

Cyclonus here, intercepting this ask before Galvatron sees it. "Then I can only assume that's why the Unmaker saw such potential in you," he responds.

His tone is carefully neutral, his optics wary as he watches the silver mech. Cyclonus doesn't hate Megatron, not in the reflexive way that Galvatron does. Galvatron's discomfort around Megatron(s) is rather unique in its quality; born of having detailed, first-person knowledge of everything his predecessor ever did, but not feeling the same emotions or motivations that justified it all at the time.

The injury was severe, energon dripping copiously from the gash in his side.

He'd gotten over confident, cocky, and the mech he'd been hunting had surprised him. Cables were wrapped around himself, an attempt to stop the bleeding, unsuccessfully. The pedesteps of another mech catch his attention, and Megatron turns to face the new threat, snarling savagely.

*gives him a loud speaker.*