Staring, still dumbfounded, Megatron didn't really hear either the laugh or Optimus' exclamation, even if a part registered something had been said, and another took in the confused-but-understanding expression.
But that wasn't active processing of sensory feedback, but rather recieved in a lower priority queue.
Highlord Protector? That was... that couldn't... Except it... sort of made sense, what with the details that had kept cropping up since he had been captured and sentenced. Red optics suddenly focusing on the swaying Prime, Megatron wondered if this had been planned, if it was all...
No. The confusion prior to the surprise the revelation had brought had been honest. Besides, if there were any sort of choice involved (there weren't, a fiber-optic thin, sparklight whisper assured him suitability couldn't be wrangled through politics) he doubted he would have been chosen...
Just as little as the Prime who now was would have been---
The clang of Optimus' frame hitting his own startled Megatron out of his thoughts, but his hands had - combat and miner instinct both, more than anything else - kept the mech from falling too heavily into him.
"You better not have fallen offline, Prime, or I'll pitch you onto the floor." It was a genuine, if joking threat. He needed more information. Actual, non-biased information, though he would of course read anything else as well.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2012-09-24 03:49 pm (UTC)But that wasn't active processing of sensory feedback, but rather recieved in a lower priority queue.
Highlord Protector? That was... that couldn't... Except it... sort of made sense, what with the details that had kept cropping up since he had been captured and sentenced. Red optics suddenly focusing on the swaying Prime, Megatron wondered if this had been planned, if it was all...
No. The confusion prior to the surprise the revelation had brought had been honest. Besides, if there were any sort of choice involved (there weren't, a fiber-optic thin, sparklight whisper assured him suitability couldn't be wrangled through politics) he doubted he would have been chosen...
Just as little as the Prime who now was would have been---
The clang of Optimus' frame hitting his own startled Megatron out of his thoughts, but his hands had - combat and miner instinct both, more than anything else - kept the mech from falling too heavily into him.
"You better not have fallen offline, Prime, or I'll pitch you onto the floor." It was a genuine, if joking threat. He needed more information. Actual, non-biased information, though he would of course read anything else as well.