Royal Energon :..: Predaking/Nariko Machisu : fluff :

The doors to the Command Hub slid open a moment before she was standing directly before the dark metal doors, retracting into the walls just as she moved her hand up to show her presence. Her first thought was that Soundwave must've fixed it to merely open whenever she was near, which was good. Now she wouldn't have to count on KnockOut to open the doors for her.

Her mind once again focused on the task at hand; report to Lord Megatron the good news. After all, it wasn't every day that you bested an Autobot, especially when you were "a mere skinjob". And to have bested the Big O himself? It was something she would be proud of years later, no matter what the outcome of this war was.

Nariko's gaze fell across the room, studying all the streaks of color faded into the dark walls all around her. All the screens, while opened, were vacant, no Vehicon nor Soundwave in sight. She wondered where everyone had gone off to, about to turn back and head for the Med-Bay, where her partner would surely be waiting, when she caught sight of the one mech she had (somehow) missed.

(How the fuck did she miss him? He was bigger than even Lord Megatron!)

He was not in his beast form, as he usually was when around her, and his back was turned to her. Golden streaks of what she assumed to be tinted energon shone through his armor, which was without chips, but full of dents. He didn't seem to take note of her or the dents, but she noticed and memorized every single one.

She was so used to seeing the dragon-esque creature beside the Commander of all scientific endeavors, and even then he was pretty big. But now, as a proud mech, he towered over the lowly woman. Nariko heard the hitch in her breathing as she took a tentative step back, a strange burning sensation in the center of her chest as her brown eyes widened slightly. He was distinguished, as a king should be.

Predaking, she remembered his designation to be. KnockOut had told her as much.

So when Predaking (God, just his name demanded respect) shifted his pedes and turned just enough to stare at her, she was awestruck. The Japanese woman couldn't move an inch in any direction for fear of accidentally moving closer to the Crown and forcing him to see her in the light - she was in the spot just between the darkness of the hall and the bright light of the Command Hub. But even through the darkness, he seemed to look right at her, studying her just as she was studying him.

He could've seen her a thousand times already, so why did he thoroughly examine her now? Under his golden gaze, she was suddenly aware of how disheveled her clothes were, how desperately her ebony locks needed a good washing, the dirt that covered almost every inch of her usually clear skin, and the dried blood on the crook of her neck.

(Optimus Prime, however gentle he was with humans, could not control the way she slammed against a rock and drew some blood.)

In short, she looked unpleasant. And as she fluttered her gaze down to the floor and brought up her hand to cover the blood, she realized just how beneath him she was. In all of her time on the Nemesis, Nariko knew that she was lower than the rest of the Officers, and she accepted this fact. But to stand before Predaking as if she was honorable enough to do so was blasphemous. He was the one true king of the galaxies, and she was perhaps the lowest lifeform even among her own kind.

She was terribly poor, horribly dishonest. Not a day could go by where her foul mouth didn't land her into trouble with someone aboard the ship. She was nothing compared to him - a pesky amoeba, she realized. Just the thought of it made her heart sink in her chest, but Nariko finally peered back up at the large mech. His optics never seemed to have moved, locked firmly on her face and piercing into her eyes. If she was so low, why did he look at her like that?

The sound of a clearing throat barely caught her attention, but seeing him turn his head to the side just the slightest bit was signal enough to let her know he was flustered. Was he embarrassed for being caught staring? He didn't have to feel ashamed; in fact, she felt it should be the other way around. Predaking's optics never flickered back to her form, and she realized he very much didn't want to look at her. Perhaps out of self respect, since no King should have to look down at a peasant for too long.

"What is it that you desire, Nariko?" Finally snapped out of her pitiful daze (and surprised that he actually knew her name), she felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks at the rising shame in her heart. He must've felt terribly uncomfortable with how intensely she was staring, so she straightened her posture and ignored her humiliation. He had asked her a question, after all, and she was not one to keep a king waiting.

"I came to look for Lord Megatron, is all. I needed to report something to him. But, since he doesn't seem to be around, I think I'll take my leave." Curtsying enough to be noticed and quickly regretting the action, the Japanese woman quickly spun on her heel and nearly ran for the door. She managed a somewhat graceful speedwalk, and left the Command Hub as swiftly as she had entered.

But it was in her own determination to escape his gaze, that she wasn't aware of the way in which his bright golden optics trailed after her rushing figure. Neither did she notice the smile that tugged at his lips as he watched her until the doors closed.