* Still staring at the flickering lights of what she now knew was indeed a map of the city she felt bad for Metroplex, felt bad for the Cityspeaker. The titan was injured but he couldn’t speak, the lone city speaker is left with the task of maintaining an entire city’s status day in and day out like a nurse watching a critical patient. That’s gotta suck *
That’s some heavy stuff, you know Starscream really doesn’t give you enough credit for the amount of work you do here. Almost everyone in this city doesn’t have a clue what you do here, but you still stick around and do what you have to do without looking for any glory fro yourself. I respect that a lot.
* At the mention of her vocalizer the Con places a hand around her throat as if to hide it, averting her optics from Windblade and back up to the Titan’s processor *
Thanks, I guess. I get that sometimes, most bots are put off by the way I sound, but for me personally, i’ve never once considered it, or myself to be pretty in any way..But uh, that’s enough of me, i’m still curious about Metroplex here.
* Forcing a fake smile she watches lines of golden light shimmer across the Titan’s brain like city lights from an aerial view at night. Reminded her of Cybertron before the war, everything seemed to look just like that from above. *
Heh, riddles huh? That would get old pretty fast for me, never been much for the cryptic stuff, not unless I can crack and encrypted set of data in less than 5 minutes of course…Caminus, that’s where you’re from right? I never knew how many Titan’s were out there, always thought they were a myth really, something we heard told in old bots folksongs and things. I wonder how many more are out there.
* She glanced at Windblade for a moment at ‘never spoken to a healthy titan’ what did that mean? *
My designation? Gee, this is all so sudden, I didn’t even prepare a speech! * she chuckles and then becomes rather serious and confused when hearing that it was Metroplex who called Starscream the ‘Chosen One’. She’d always mocked that title, figuring it was a self proclaimed vanity name..Nope, that’s what a titan calls him, well frag. *
Uh, well big guy, my enemies call me Scraplord von Glitch, anyone dumb enough to consider me a friend calls me Hopeless. But I think my real name is Octavia..No yeah, that’s it, it’s Octavia. Been a while since anyone would attempt to refer to me by my actual name so I tend to forget..that and..I prefer to not talk..to most bots.
* She tried for a smile but couldn’t quite make it. She knew her guard of seeming fine and dandy was almost up and with a Titan present and actually inquiring about you it’s hard to keep any kind of barrier up. Why would a titan even want to acknowledge her presence anyway? She wasn’t worth the time. *
Is this, gonna end up being an interrogation I blindly walked right into?
[She released a small sigh]
To side with all of creation, regardless of who gets credit for it, or how it happens.
I’m not in this for glory or to be praised, I’m only in this for Metroplex. It’s my job to help him, but I can’t help but feel like I do nothing. There’s not much I can do other than translate and source problems. I’m a Cityspeaker, not an engineer..
[Hm, note to self: Don’t mention her vocaliser. Windblade still liked it, though. It was something she’d never seen before, and she was one to appreciate the small things like that. Metroplex rather liked the idea of it - of speaking with light.]
Caminus is where I was created, that’s right. [She glanced downwards to a panel on the floor, biting her lip] There are still many titans out there. Titans like Caminus - who have colonies aboard them, who are waiting for the mythical Cybertron to call them back home.
I grew up with stories of Cybertron, but the Cybertron I came to was nothing like those stories. It’s kind of funny. To us, Cybertron was a myth. To you, we were a myth.
[She blinked chuckling]
I wouldn’t exactly call you Hopeless, but I suppose that’s a start on trying to get your designation. [That was her way of trying to say they were friends. Don’t mind her, she’s just a little awkward with others]
[As the other continued, she looked up to Metroplex, who was beginning to formulate symbols and words for Octavia, a few lights appearing, before fading away, replaced by a different set of lights]
«Even the smallest ripples can stir an ocean. Smile, Prism-Singer.»
[Cue Windblade giving a small smile and looking to Octavia] Everyone is important, regardless of rank, or faction. You deserve to be called by your proper name.
Oh, don’t worry, You’re not being interrogated. Metroplex is just sort of.. warming up to you, Prism-Singer.
* Octavia smiled, for real this time, this bot was so, genuine. She wasn’t trying to pretend to be anymore or less than what she was and that is something hardly seen among bots anymore. She liked that *
I don’t think talking to a Titan and deciphering his code to know what’s hurting him can be called ‘doing nothing’. You’re doing something to help not just Metroplex but EVERYONE who lives here! How can you say that’s nothing? At least you help to protect life…I was an engineer once, a mechanic centuries later..But I used to help build things, to make life a little better * she mutters under her breath a quick * -for those who could afford it-
I built and i fixed, then it all changed when I became a Decepticon in the name of fighting for liberation, for equality. Instead of building things, I destroyed..I destroyed everything I touched, and it’s never changed..I’ll always be a destroyer…
*Looking down at her hands solemnly she sighed, Windblade couldn’t see it, no bot could, no bot but Octavia. Hands covered in energon that would never be washed away. The gray femme looked up at Windblade, her red optics sad and guilty *
You are the luckiest bot i’ve ever met Cityspeaker. You never had to be part of our war. You never had to experience what it’s like, to kill your own brothers and sisters for a cause you could hardly see anymore through the blood staining your optics for 4 million damned years.. Here you are, for nothing more than to help a Titan survive, the only functioning city for us Cybertronian’s to live in…Yet you owe us nothing.
* She could feel the hydraulics in her legs starting to weaken from the withdrawals, not having blown her processor in energon for over 10 hours was starting to get the best of the femme. Deciding it was better to take a rest she sat down on the ground, crossing her legs and staring up at Metroplex’s brain with a tired sigh *
I’m sorry you had to see Cybertron like this. We ruined for you, for everyone. and for what? What have we left the others to return to?……Heh, you should’ve seen it before we blew it all to hell. Especially this sector where Metroplex decided to settle down. It was..quite a site to see…Everything was, right down to the slums that I used to call home.
* Windblade chuckled, but Octavia only felt a dagger dig into her spark. She was just being friendly, but that’s what hurt the most. It didn’t feel right for anyone to be ‘friendly’ towards her. *
-Noticing the lights appear and then fade she looked to Windblade in confusion, thinking perhaps it meant something had just gone wrong. She gives a look of skepticism at the Cityspeakers words. Sure, everyone is important in some way, everyone but her. -
That’s nice and all but unlike you and everyone else in this universe, I don’t have a place to belong to, I gave up on that..a long time ago.
* It was then Windblade used that peculiar name, one that was obviously referring to her, light up throat midooby and all. She would’ve been mad to the point of wanting to hit WIndblade, but she couldn’t…She couldn’t be mad, because it wasn’t given by her. It was given by the Titan. *
-She tried her best to hold back a leak of optic lubricant, finding it difficult to keep composure, but managing to look up at Metroples’s processor with a quivering smile-
Thanks big guy..It’s beautiful.