Perhaps he should've checked back, considered that the situation might not be suitable... the problem was, of course, that any such "catching up" would've given hints of what he'd planned. And in a way, while Megatron didn't even notice and mostly wanted to show Optimus he could trust him with this, there was something else.
Megatron didn't have the Matrix, with its memories handily available or a more direct, emphemeral contact with previous Primes or even, supposedly, Primus himself to nudge Optimus' actions where necessary. That didn't mean he was completely unaffected by the Omega Key, which, while it could do nothing like the Matrix could, did maintain something of a... connection.
And trust was most vital here, trust that had to go both ways if the protection of Cybertron was to be at its most effective, if the Omega Lock itself was to be used to its full potential if needed. The High Lord needed to (be able to) trust the Prime to give direction in that, and conversely... The Prime needed to (be able to) trust the High Lord to use his strength and power when deemed necessary.
So, not completely understanding why, Megatron stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed, beside the door, except that he really thought Optimus needed to understand that he would not abuse any trust put in him... When it came to interface, since that was what Megatron was thinking on presently, but was, really, not the whole picture.
The moment Optimus came inside, Megatron straightened, moving even as Optimus was probably turning around, since what the slag was Megatron doing behind him without saying anything, right?
Flashing a wide, canine-baring smirk at his Prime, Megatron pounced, using weight and surprise to topple Optimus backwards and into the pit, which had been pretty thoroughly covered in plush wire-mesh pillows and a large, short "haired" throw or two to make the landing comfortable.
Not bothering to say anything, he just wrestled with Optimus until he could yank first one, and then another of Optimus' hands above his helm and snap the statis cuffs closed, the short chain that was threaded through a metal loop keeping the hands locked over his helm, and then sat back, satified.
"Low on fuel, Optimus?" The question was sincere, since he really thought that shouldn't have been as easy as it had been, but he couldn't help the near obnoxious smirk accompanying his words either.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2012-11-09 09:22 pm (UTC)Megatron didn't have the Matrix, with its memories handily available or a more direct, emphemeral contact with previous Primes or even, supposedly, Primus himself to nudge Optimus' actions where necessary. That didn't mean he was completely unaffected by the Omega Key, which, while it could do nothing like the Matrix could, did maintain something of a... connection.
And trust was most vital here, trust that had to go both ways if the protection of Cybertron was to be at its most effective, if the Omega Lock itself was to be used to its full potential if needed. The High Lord needed to (be able to) trust the Prime to give direction in that, and conversely... The Prime needed to (be able to) trust the High Lord to use his strength and power when deemed necessary.
So, not completely understanding why, Megatron stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed, beside the door, except that he really thought Optimus needed to understand that he would not abuse any trust put in him... When it came to interface, since that was what Megatron was thinking on presently, but was, really, not the whole picture.
The moment Optimus came inside, Megatron straightened, moving even as Optimus was probably turning around, since what the slag was Megatron doing behind him without saying anything, right?
Flashing a wide, canine-baring smirk at his Prime, Megatron pounced, using weight and surprise to topple Optimus backwards and into the pit, which had been pretty thoroughly covered in plush wire-mesh pillows and a large, short "haired" throw or two to make the landing comfortable.
Not bothering to say anything, he just wrestled with Optimus until he could yank first one, and then another of Optimus' hands above his helm and snap the statis cuffs closed, the short chain that was threaded through a metal loop keeping the hands locked over his helm, and then sat back, satified.
"Low on fuel, Optimus?" The question was sincere, since he really thought that shouldn't have been as easy as it had been, but he couldn't help the near obnoxious smirk accompanying his words either.