[Animated] Bribes
Dec. 18th, 2014 07:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Not quite the last flash fiction fill, but one of the two chapters I need to post before I can post the flash fiction fill. lol. Enjoy!
Title: Bribes
Universe: TFA, The Art of Self-Destruction
Characters: Optimus, Flatline, Megatron
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Description: Megatron offers Optimus a gift.
He tries not to flinch. It is a failed attempt.
Optimus hisses a ventilation. “Don't you have some kind of sensor block?”
The Decepticon medic chuckles from behind the sparks of weld-fire. “I didn't realize Autobots were so delicate.”
Optimus grinds his denta, grateful to hide behind his battle mask. “And I didn't realize all Decepticons were masochists.”
Flatline laughs, but it's a raspy sound that never fails to make Optimus recall all those late-night horror movies Sari used to watch. “I think, little Autobot, that the masochist is you. Few step away from the mat with Megatron and come back thirsty for more.”
“I don't have a choice.”
“So you say.” Flatline cuts off the welder and sets it aside, magnifying optic peering closer at his work. “There. A fine job if I do say so myself. And I just did.” He pats Optimus on the shoulder, a friendly gesture he has not earned.
Optimus flinches away from the medic, sliding off the berth to see to his frame in the mirror. It is currently a pockmark of dents, gashes, and scrapes. The worst of it had been the gash across his back, what Flatline had just finished welding.
Megatron, even in so-called training, does not hold back.
“He'll kill me before I learn whatever it is he thinks he can teach me,” Optimus mutters, frowning at the state of his paint. Red and blue are dull, scraped through. He doubts he'll be given any nanite filler.
“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that.” Flatline's smirk is heard in his vocals as he turns to clean and put away of his equipment. “Lord Megatron never disposes of an asset. How else do you think Starscream lingered for so long?”
“And now he's dead.”
“Well...” Flatline rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Accidents do happen.”
Optimus folds his arms over his chestplate. “He didn't accidentally walk into a blast from Megatron's cannon.”
“No. He flew.” Flatline waggles his optical ridge. “Never let it be said that Lord Megatron misses his targets.”
Ugh. Optimus hadn't realized Flatline was such a Megatron fanbot. He's almost worse than Lugnut. At least he refrains from the overly flowery addresses. Our Glorious Megatron. Pffft.
“Am I good to go?” Optimus asks.
Flatline flicks a hand at him. “Sure, sure. There's nothing else you need save a good scrub and a bucket or two of paint. There are washracks down the hall. But unless you can convince Lord Megatron to stop by a supply depot, you're out of luck on the paint.” He pauses, cocks his helm, and grins. “Though I do have several lovely shades of gray and purple that would suit.”
“I'll pass.”
“Suit yourself. But if you change your mind...”
“You'll be the first to know,” Optimus says and turns on a heelstrut, heading for the exit. There's only so much he can take of Flatline.
The washracks are thankfully empty. Optimus usually times his ablutions to avoid Decepticon contact. Once upon a time, Optimus would have lingered as he washed his frame, using the time to let his thoughts wander.
It's not safe to do so here.
Optimus washes quickly, brushes in vain at his scraped armor, and returns to his assigned room. His daily routine is the only comfort he's found in his captivity.
That he can't divine Megatron's true intentions turns his recharge restless.
He is safe in his room. This he knows. The door will only open to himself, the serving drone, or Megatron.
That is still little comfort. Especially since there's a new addition, a piece of equipment that hadn't been there when Optimus left upon onlining.
Optimus stares at the console as though it is a bomb waiting to ignite. Did he dare use it? Why would Megatron give him something he could use to furnish his escape?
The screen flickers to life. Unsurprisingly, it is Megatron's face that appears.
“Do you like my gift, little Prime?”
Optimus' optics dim. He loathes the way Megatron addresses him. “What does it cost me?”
Megatron chuckles. “Gifts are meant to be free. You could call it a welcome gift.”
Optimus moves closer to the console. “It's bugged.”
“And sanitized as a matter of course. But it's yours to use. I can't have my favorite captive bored enough to be found wandering the storage bay, now can I?”
Optimus's faceplate heats. “I'd gotten lost,” he lies. “And since I don't have the schematics for this ship, that shouldn't come as a surprise.”
“I never said that it did.” Megatron waves a dismissive hand. “But should you get the urge to wander, you can take the time to educate yourself.”
Optimus crosses his arms. “Decepticon propaganda.”
Red optics flash as Megatron leans toward the screen. “Unfiltered truth,” he clarifies, vocals taking a hard edge. “Autobot and Decepticon alike. It is up to you what you choose to believe, Optimus Prime. Have a pleasant recharge.”
The screen goes dark.
Oo. Must have struck a sensor with that implication.
Optimus squares his jaw and stares at the console. This, he knows, is all part of Megatron's game. He can't not use it. He needs to know what Megatron is willing to offer.
Optimus takes the seat, datacable emerging from his left wrist. He hesitates, wondering if Megatron could have planted some kind of virus or something on it. But then, the Decepticon warlord has had plenty of other opportunities if he wanted to cause Optimus damage. There'd be no point.
Optimus connects.
This may be monitored. This may be sanitized. But he'll take what he can get and he'll find a way.
If there's one thing his time on Earth taught him, it is that there is always another way.
***
a/n: Starscream is dead! .... or is he? This is TFA after all. Maybe they only think he's dead. Heh heh. I still don't know exactly where this diverges from canon but as soon as I figure it out, I'll let you all know.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Coming up in the next update: Shockwave is a good spy and Megatron finds Optimus a little bit more appealing. Stay tuned!
Title: Bribes
Universe: TFA, The Art of Self-Destruction
Characters: Optimus, Flatline, Megatron
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Description: Megatron offers Optimus a gift.
He tries not to flinch. It is a failed attempt.
Optimus hisses a ventilation. “Don't you have some kind of sensor block?”
The Decepticon medic chuckles from behind the sparks of weld-fire. “I didn't realize Autobots were so delicate.”
Optimus grinds his denta, grateful to hide behind his battle mask. “And I didn't realize all Decepticons were masochists.”
Flatline laughs, but it's a raspy sound that never fails to make Optimus recall all those late-night horror movies Sari used to watch. “I think, little Autobot, that the masochist is you. Few step away from the mat with Megatron and come back thirsty for more.”
“I don't have a choice.”
“So you say.” Flatline cuts off the welder and sets it aside, magnifying optic peering closer at his work. “There. A fine job if I do say so myself. And I just did.” He pats Optimus on the shoulder, a friendly gesture he has not earned.
Optimus flinches away from the medic, sliding off the berth to see to his frame in the mirror. It is currently a pockmark of dents, gashes, and scrapes. The worst of it had been the gash across his back, what Flatline had just finished welding.
Megatron, even in so-called training, does not hold back.
“He'll kill me before I learn whatever it is he thinks he can teach me,” Optimus mutters, frowning at the state of his paint. Red and blue are dull, scraped through. He doubts he'll be given any nanite filler.
“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that.” Flatline's smirk is heard in his vocals as he turns to clean and put away of his equipment. “Lord Megatron never disposes of an asset. How else do you think Starscream lingered for so long?”
“And now he's dead.”
“Well...” Flatline rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Accidents do happen.”
Optimus folds his arms over his chestplate. “He didn't accidentally walk into a blast from Megatron's cannon.”
“No. He flew.” Flatline waggles his optical ridge. “Never let it be said that Lord Megatron misses his targets.”
Ugh. Optimus hadn't realized Flatline was such a Megatron fanbot. He's almost worse than Lugnut. At least he refrains from the overly flowery addresses. Our Glorious Megatron. Pffft.
“Am I good to go?” Optimus asks.
Flatline flicks a hand at him. “Sure, sure. There's nothing else you need save a good scrub and a bucket or two of paint. There are washracks down the hall. But unless you can convince Lord Megatron to stop by a supply depot, you're out of luck on the paint.” He pauses, cocks his helm, and grins. “Though I do have several lovely shades of gray and purple that would suit.”
“I'll pass.”
“Suit yourself. But if you change your mind...”
“You'll be the first to know,” Optimus says and turns on a heelstrut, heading for the exit. There's only so much he can take of Flatline.
The washracks are thankfully empty. Optimus usually times his ablutions to avoid Decepticon contact. Once upon a time, Optimus would have lingered as he washed his frame, using the time to let his thoughts wander.
It's not safe to do so here.
Optimus washes quickly, brushes in vain at his scraped armor, and returns to his assigned room. His daily routine is the only comfort he's found in his captivity.
That he can't divine Megatron's true intentions turns his recharge restless.
He is safe in his room. This he knows. The door will only open to himself, the serving drone, or Megatron.
That is still little comfort. Especially since there's a new addition, a piece of equipment that hadn't been there when Optimus left upon onlining.
Optimus stares at the console as though it is a bomb waiting to ignite. Did he dare use it? Why would Megatron give him something he could use to furnish his escape?
The screen flickers to life. Unsurprisingly, it is Megatron's face that appears.
“Do you like my gift, little Prime?”
Optimus' optics dim. He loathes the way Megatron addresses him. “What does it cost me?”
Megatron chuckles. “Gifts are meant to be free. You could call it a welcome gift.”
Optimus moves closer to the console. “It's bugged.”
“And sanitized as a matter of course. But it's yours to use. I can't have my favorite captive bored enough to be found wandering the storage bay, now can I?”
Optimus's faceplate heats. “I'd gotten lost,” he lies. “And since I don't have the schematics for this ship, that shouldn't come as a surprise.”
“I never said that it did.” Megatron waves a dismissive hand. “But should you get the urge to wander, you can take the time to educate yourself.”
Optimus crosses his arms. “Decepticon propaganda.”
Red optics flash as Megatron leans toward the screen. “Unfiltered truth,” he clarifies, vocals taking a hard edge. “Autobot and Decepticon alike. It is up to you what you choose to believe, Optimus Prime. Have a pleasant recharge.”
The screen goes dark.
Oo. Must have struck a sensor with that implication.
Optimus squares his jaw and stares at the console. This, he knows, is all part of Megatron's game. He can't not use it. He needs to know what Megatron is willing to offer.
Optimus takes the seat, datacable emerging from his left wrist. He hesitates, wondering if Megatron could have planted some kind of virus or something on it. But then, the Decepticon warlord has had plenty of other opportunities if he wanted to cause Optimus damage. There'd be no point.
Optimus connects.
This may be monitored. This may be sanitized. But he'll take what he can get and he'll find a way.
If there's one thing his time on Earth taught him, it is that there is always another way.
a/n: Starscream is dead! .... or is he? This is TFA after all. Maybe they only think he's dead. Heh heh. I still don't know exactly where this diverges from canon but as soon as I figure it out, I'll let you all know.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Coming up in the next update: Shockwave is a good spy and Megatron finds Optimus a little bit more appealing. Stay tuned!
