FLYBOY

[ continued from here ]

@the-wondrous-flyboy

Watching the entire spectacle unfold was mildly amusing. He'd known, of course, that the flyer was being disingenuous, and getting to watch him squirm as he was exposed was entertaining enough to take the edge off of his displeasure.

Still...

"I've yet to dismiss you," the tyrant cut in, watching the other mech's digits drop from Flyboy's collar before he hastily hurried back. A single, measured step was all it took to regain the space between them, and he reached out with a wickedly clawed servo, motions deliberately slow so he could savour the look of growing panic.

Gripping him firmly by the throat, Megatron lifted the smaller bot to optic level. He waited for the other's frantic kicks to cease, their struggling to subside as fearful acceptance took hold.

Satisfied he'd scared the younger mech enough for one cycle, he rumbled - tone tinged with dangerous promise, "If you ever lie to me again, I'll have your voicebox."

He said nothing more, letting the threat sink in. There were plenty of other ways to deliver reports, after all. Claws release the hold they have on his subordinate's neck, red stare following the sleek frame as it slips into a heap at his pedes.

Attention returns to the bot that had come to collect him.

Not fair, he thought in a sour manner as Skyslice hauled him up.

"'S'not lying, they really did only got mad when I started yapping," he muttered under his breath, partially to Skyslice, because his common sense had gone out the window in the brief life or death scenario he just found himself in. The best Seekers were like that; the common sense got thrown out the window and got replaced with the insanity required to pull off air maneuvers that should not have worked and may have broken and spit on the laws of physics.

"Shut up, you stupid little Seeker, get your goddamn life preservation protocols back online now," Skyslice hissed and grabbed him by the audial.

"Owowowow--" Flyboy said as his helm was twisted uncomfortably, and then he registered Megatron might have heard that.

Aw.

The Bounty Hunter speedily walked through the corridors, checked public spaces with no luck. Lastly, he returned back to where he'd left her, and, surprise, they'd respawned out of thin air!

Baffled, with vocals stuck within his intake, and a hammering spark, in the edge of panic, he stood there, as Corpse slithered her helm out of the cockpit.

She appeared a little startled, due to the landing jostled her frame. Nor did she expect to be caught red handed leaving a jet's alt mode, so clearly surprised.

"Why are you making it sound weird?" he challenged, his entire alt mode bending in a way that made him look... scrunched. "You told me to babysit, random stranger I don't know! Babysitting involves entertainment! Fun! Adventures! I don't know! So, up we went!"

As soon as Corpse got out, the Seeker transformed with a loud huff of annoyance, dusting himself off in a fine bad temper.

"Why is she inside you," he repeated in a mocking tone under his breath. "Why'd you have to go and make it weird? We were enjoying the sunshine and good music! She was basking!"

Angrily, he faced Darkfang, servo on his popped hip.

"If you don't want your pet, friend, weirdly nonverbal sparkling, whichever it is going on there, to go for a little flight, don't have a Seeker babysit!" he said, pointing his servo at him. "That's our prime mode of entertainment for little ones!"

She quietly flickered her forked glossa, absentmindedly tickling the glass. She certainly didn't mind the trip, nor how long it took.

So, he spent maybe a bit too long up in the air, giving plenty of time for Darkfang to panic about their absence, before he turned back to where he picked her up.

Was a shame he couldn't properly get a harness on her, he bemoaned. He wanted to give her a little barrel roll.

Ah, well.

The pains of having someone in your cockpit, he thought as he made his way back to the base and hit the landing strip, coasting to a halt and popping open his cockpit.

For what felt like ages, Corpse rested there, without barely a reaction. Calm, bright, and warm. When she finally shifted, she slithered forward, and placed her helm closer to the window panels. Reminded her of the times, of her owner rambling about wanting to fly, or the times the idiot hopped on a flier and nearly ended himself.

"... Not sure when we should head down..." he said, as an afterthought. When was the snake's companion going to come back?

Everything about the flyer's reactions bespoke a primal kind of fear, the sheer level of it simultaneously thrilling him and tamping his urge to maim. Knowing he was suffering in his own way seemed suitable punishment enough, for now.

The silence that follows seems to suck the air from the vicinity, the atmosphere suddenly stifling. Finally he releases the fidgeting mech, denta gnashing as he further threatens, "If you have not corrected your error within the cycle, I will devise your discipline myself."

A single step draws the towering mech alongside the seeker, stare cutting as he gauges the other's cagey motions. Drawing himself to his full height, Megatron waits until the bot has garnered his courage enough to meet his gaze, then speaks again.

The sound of footsteps echoed, and Skyslice circled around the other side of the hallway, setting his optics on Magivoke, and Magivoke shrunk back as the Seeker directly in charge of him leveled a glare on him.

"Lord Megatron," Skyslice said and bowed to Megatron. "Apologies, did Magivoke disturb you?"

A nasty glare was leveled on Magivoke, and Skyslice seized him, grabbing him by the back of his neck and dragging him forward like a scruffed kitten. Magivoke damn near jumped on the possibility to get out of Megatron's presence even if it meant scrubbing down the washracks again.

"If you're going to be a card shark, don't get caught," Skyslice hissed in his audial, just loud enough for Megatron to hear. "And don't be obnoxious when you are caught, you fraggin--"

He cut himself off, and Magivoke could already fill in what he was about to say, and great, now Megatron knew he was a card shark. For the record, this was the first time in the entire war he had been caught cleaning people out.

"I've never been caught before," he muttered darkly, now supremely annoyed that he was being accused of being sloppy. "It's not my fault they were too stupid to prove it for thousands of years and kept playing anyw--"

He cut himself off, fully away he shouldn't be squabbling over details like this in front of Megatron, and turned his big, wobbly, decidedly 'pathetic, sad puppy' optics to the leader of the Decepticons, praying he wasn't just going to dole out a punishment on the spot.

Or just outright execute him.

"Oh," he said, warning sirens going off in his head as he froze on the spot. "Don't mind me. Just-- Lost, aha. Thought it was a lift! Pardon me, just gonna--"

Yep. Not dealing with that. Magivoke did an abrupt about-face and prepared to slink off, because he was not about to put himself in more bots' crosshairs he couldn't afford to offend this time.

A clawed servo shoots out, hooking the ring of the retreating mech's collar plating before he can get too far.

"And what mess, pray tell, have you gotten yourself into this time?"

The sonorous command brokered no room for questioning, filling the quiet of the otherwise empty hallway like a roll of distant thunder. Hellish optics pin the mech with the weight of his expectancy as Megatron exits his habsuite.

Even so, Magivoke couldn't tell Megatron, whose berth he was not supposed to be in, and where was the rumored spark casing garland of sparks removed from Autobots' chassises personally by Megatron himself?? Where was the ambiance? The arch of decapitated helms? Why was it just some random door? He couldn't be blamed for this! It should at least be painted with the energon of his enemies! Anything! He was going to lodge a complaint with the quartermaster, actually!

In any case, he was not going to tell Megatron he got caught cheating at gambling. 1.) Cheating. 2.) They weren't supposed to be gambling. 3.) Cheating.

"Aha... Er, well, you see, some people are just so touchy, m'lord," he babbled. "You know how my mouth is, I don't even know what I said to make them so upset with me, but I assure you, I will-- Not be making it your problem, so if you could just--"

He wiggled in place, ever so slightly, and something about his evasive language and squirming with his back to Megatron gave off the extreme impression of some kind of prey animal caught in Megatron's servo trying to devise the best way to escape before it got eaten.

With a calm slither upwards, Corpse settled within his cockbit. Frame curled up into a ball, over the seat within with her helm nestled upon herself.

:: We'll take it slow! Don't wanna scare ya! Plus, I don't think a harness is gonna work for your slitheryness... ::

Whatever. He took off, shooting forward into the sky, jets firing, propulsion taking them higher, higher, higher, until they reached a good cruising altitude where he could slow down and engage his cloaking, disappearing into the cloud coverage, leaving behind nothing but a contrail.

The mechanimal owned no speech, but it didn't mean she wasn't intelligent enough to notice the tone of a question in his vocals. With curiosity, Corpse slithered forward and brushed her dark frame along his pede, before resting the underside of her jaws against it.

He didn't think this through. Just felt a bit dangerous to think about transforming while holding her. Wait...

The metal shivered briefly, and a series of rungs popped out under his cockpit to let her climb up.

Corpse, placed down in front of them and a glimmer of a warning glare flashed within Darkfang's optics.

"Keep an eye on her, while I go do some business." Spoken like an order, before he dashed away, leaving the smaller cybersnake to stare at his surprise 'babysitter'.

"... Come here often?" he joked weakly, his servos twitching in discomfort. Was the snake gonna bite him? "... Want a ride in my cockpit?"