Oc x Soundwave (Pre-war)
A/N - Sorry for such a late update! :c Shame on me, guys. I got distracted with life and all that other bullshit, so in return I made this chapter a little longer than the usual 1,300 words. c;
~Enjoy
Ch. 4 'If'
"Perceptor, what's required for the final assessment?" It'd take him a moment, but a conclusion would eventually be made. He wouldn't make it challenging...he never did; adding unnecessary steps took too much time. If anything he wanted to avoid any excess fumbling.
"Remove the device and set its coordinates to a fixed location. It should, upon receiving a radar pulse, transmit a reply pulse that enables the original sender to determine its position relative to the fixed location." He'd usually voice things in a manner that would seem to sound more complex than necessary, and often Prisma found that those were his exact intentions. The seeker could only respond with a vague smile as she tapped her screen with a steady index component, entering a specific set of coordinates on the statistical reference chart. She dragged the information beside a map, the blinking red indicator being spot on as Perceptor fully onlined the device.
"Radar pulse is active, and the emergency beacon appears fully functional." She'd nodded contently, the device in full operation and upon word he shut it down, an obvious expression of relief present on his faceplate. One less project to worry over, and now he could focus on rerouting several energon lines to the labs.
"Good. All in one sitting." He mumbled it crudely, his bitter mood dissipating with their success. He had earlier entered the lab stiff and irritated and quiet...so unlike Preceptor in every possible way. Possibly a lack of recharge, maybe lack of energon, or perhaps just a bad cycle...but whatever had caused it didn't matter, because his wavering spirits were lifted entirely upon the sight of Soundwave.
The femme perked beside her instructor, exchanging a quick glance with the visitor before typing something into the main computer. A pair of sharp, blue optics had yet to leave his frame, and the newly titled Third in Command of Megatron was incapable of figuring the gaze. Was it interest, or indifference? Did it even matter? No, not particularly...but that didn't make it any less awkward in his all but brief visit to check on Prisma's status.
It'd been four full cycles since he'd last seen her, and he'd been recently informed that she assisted in the newest generation of weaponry technology. Something Megatron required as a form of 'defense'. Orion, although hesitant, agreed keenly as though purposely avoiding any unnecessary disputes. He didn't know why. Megatron enjoyed a meager argument every joor or so.
"Perceptor...this is Soundwave." She said his name so sternly, as if to pull the scientist back into reality. His optics narrowed into his constant observations with a form of diversion as he inspected every inch of the other's plating from afar. Not out of sexual engrossing, no, never...Perceptor seemed too professional for such unbecoming things; more out of sheer fascination at such an unusual model of build. In fact it wasn't even a model; his frame was defined beyond belief for the purpose of information storage as well as adaption. He probably had a strong T-cog, capable of withstanding as many upgrades an Elite could afford. An impressive show of ingenuity as far as Vector Sigma goes.
"A pleasure to be properly acquainted with Megatron's advisor." He found it appropriate to nodd stoutly, the thought of physical contact nauseating to the digestive tanks on either end. Both were so 'to themselves'...hardly enduring much socialization unless forced as this current occasion seemed to be.
"Mutual." He stated it so bluntly, returning the nod with his own stiffened form of acknowledgement. The staring seemed to cease, and he couldn't help but find the rumors of said Scientist in being 'a little odd' true.
"Did Megatron find a way around the current weapon laws?" She thankfully interrupted, nearly standing on the tips of her stabilizing servos to interrogate him further; he nodded again.
"Good, then our work wasn't entirely wasted." The older scientist mumbled before turning back to the monitor, the seemingly endless rows of ancient Cybertronian littering the screen as he quickly accessed several reference files.
Soundwave exchanged a glance of perplexity before setting a subtle servo on her helm.
"You should get back..." The suggestion was wisely disappointing, the fair countenance of understanding and adversity crossing her faceplates. Soundwave had come on bad timing, their efforts constant and assuringly unwavering in their constant attempts at scientific success. "I'll try and visit if I can."
If I can. If. Again.
He found himself dreading the word, mainly due to the seemingly repetitive instance where 'if' had no viable nor applicable definition. It was just a word she tended to throw around carelessly, not even ensuring a 'maybe' it either meant yes or, more often than not, no. She wouldn't try to visit (making the term acceptable) whenever the time allowed it...she would either visit...or not. Prisma had never really been indecisive. Even when she'd spoken of Altihex he knew thy the femme had no intentions of leaving whatsoever. She'd made up her mind the joor both options had become available.
But of course he didn't voice such an intolerant opinion or...more accurately...an assumption. He simply nodded his helm as usual, and stood still as the younger embraced him all too keenly. She was warm as always, and she was radiating this optimistic attitude that Prisma lately never seemed to carry out of the lab. He set a servo on her helm again, and within the second he'd become comfortable in the confines of her hold the moment was ruined.
A cough. A rather loud and audacious grumble of the voice chip that had an impatient overtone.
Perceptor held back nothing but his words as this indescribable glower of agitation burned a hole in her wing panels. Prisma stepped away, her grin brief and mildly embarrassed. He turned to leave, their rushed encounter still worth the energon he'd burned to even get there. The doors slid open for his departure as if expectant of the mech to leave.
Next time he would stay longer, if only to spite everyone else within the vicinity.
It wasn't long before he'd requested her attention, Prisma slightly hesitant in conversation. Perceptor set a curled digit against his chin, optics narrowing in contemplation before finding the correct phrase to voice. For once he found himself incapable of composing a fitted sentence, the observations he'd made almost too sharp within the fresher filters of his processor to bluntly describe. His glossa was tied in the most awkward of ways, and Prisma simply awaited a comment to respond to as she continued to adjust their previous findings.
"Soundwave has a very...uniquely set build." He said it as if analyzing the comment, still unsure of the proper wording within such a contingent expression. It surprised her...considering that Perceptor made an analytical statement that consisted of only one blatant sentence; an uncertain one at that.
"Don't you have a bond mate?" She nearly cracked a full smile, the slim upward curve devious enough to assure that she'd been toying. Although the joke alone seemed to tighten her digestive tanks for some odd and illogical reason. But she'd never been comfortable with jokes regarding Soundwave...so why did she make them?
"...The assumption of sexual interest was not the intention of my observation." She rolled her optics, digits fidgeting with the holo monitor as the two exchanged such an unusual form of dialogue.
"Either way, he does. A six hundred channel data logger, universal control unit, long-distance communications satellite as well as eighty five levels of cache memory. He was constructed for his profession."
"You appear to be more conversant of his assembly than necessary." A smug phrase, one he usually found useful when showing off his intellect. But...he was correct. How many other sentient beings were actually aware of their familiar's internal structure? Very few, she assumed.
"He's my most respected associate." How blatantly passive and falsely apathetic of her. She couldn't help but notice the expression of mocking doubt on his faceplate. Purple optics glanced to the door upon their opening, another colleague walking in while scanning a datapad.
"Ah, perfect timing. Turbine, reconnect the outer stabilizer unit would you?" The smaller mech looked up from his readings, nodding silently at the microscope as the automobile so often did before turning heel and continuing back out the front.
"He's been saving up to go to the relinquishment clinic* and get a full body re-engineering." Prisma muttered it, typing still continuous and without fault as she analyzed the screen. She'd intercepted his thoughts once again and, although the transmission was often fuzzy due to his firewalls, she couldn't help but wonder why he would even consider something so...unnecessary. He didn't need it. He was fine. He looked fine, functioned accordingly, if not above expectations, had a decent alternate mode and seemed content with his speed. What more could he require?
"Turbine is?" Perceptor questioned, feeling odd to be the one with such a blunt inquiry as well as the curious implications; that was usually Prisma.
"No..." She found it irritating that their conversation'd been skewed, the topic quite entertaining when providing impressive details. But now they spoke of change...something happening too often to be appreciated. too quickly, almost. "...Soundwave."
"What are you doing?" He asked almost meticulously, visor unconsciously heating as she inspected his chassis a little too fondly. A clawed digit traced the inner curve of his plating, complete innocence obvious as this countenance of sheer curiosity crossed her expression. She was oblivious to his discomfort.
"After you left the main lab the other cycle, we discussed your structure." The other cycle? That's right. He recalled his thoughts then too vividly without the usual plus back to remind him. 'If' had for once been a positive outcome, which was enticingly peculiar considering any other instance in the past. He found himself curious as to what was bothering her, or perhaps she required something? "So I'm just inspecting...and observing."
She smiled a bit, as if teasing. Although it could have just been a delusion due to his unnatural interest caused by something as simple as a brief touch. Or her consistent staring. Or perhaps that inquisitive look on her face as she tilted her helm and smirked in thought. Either or. Everything she did seemed to bother him, or provoke a private inquiry concerning this seemingly fast-formed connection the two had. The connection that caused the inner workings of his circuits to throb when they would make physical contact.
Though he couldn't currently complain...this was the attention he'd oddly found himself craving from solely Prisma, the attention he'd provided her throughout the vorns that was never fully returned. It was always her naive sense of self absorption, he knew...but after all this time...it almost felt irritating to be such an insignificant component of her life.
"..." She stood straight, a huff of air eliciting from her vents in the most drawn out and enervated of ways. Her wing panels strut downwards, warning him of some kind of held-in scolding that she'd been pondering over for the last few rotor cycles*.
"Why do you want a full body re-engineering?" Frag that stupid ability of hers. Of course with how much he'd been deliberating the option she would find out with that fragging power to read his fragging mind.
Still...what was he supposed to say? It's out of style? It's become uncomfortable? It's not sufficient enough? Perhaps the last one...but she wouldn't buy it. Prisma was too smart to not realize when someone was lying, but she was often too socially uneducated to tell when someone was fibbing in order to better her own outcome. So he wouldn't lie. He would just stay quite and wait with hopeful prospects for the topic to blow by as many had in their previous debates.
"..." He just stared, feeling too mentally constipated to even physically move much less evade from the path of his plan. Soundwave could only stiffen and wait it out.
"If you don't want to tell me that's fine." She crossed her arms, wings perking a bit while lip components still curved down in a serious scowl of speculation. "Just pick something worth while."
He still didn't known what she'd meant.
-End Chapter Four
*Rotor cycle - a Cybertronian week; approx. 1 Earth week
*Relinquishment clinic - a clinic specifically made for the re-engineering of one's alternate and robot mode. (Mentioned within the MTMTE comic series)
I wanted to base Perceptor's character off of his own in the Prime universe, looking to the game Fall of Cybertron for help in building him up within the chapter. I didn't do as well as I'd planned, but I avoided making him plain...I think. ^^;
Anyway, sorry for such a long wait! Hope it was enjoyed. c; Oh! And Fall of Cybertron is an awesome game, really worth while. c:
I swear this story will eventually have a dramatic escalation. ^^;
Please, review?