(no subject)

[lordmegatron]

Temporarily withdrawing from the battlefield and retiring into the temporary base, Megatron surveyed their progress over the running report Soundwave was supplying. The Autobots had, predictably, upped their efforts as he left, assuming that he was up to something... ah, "nefarious" if he was leaving the battlefield.

Smirking as he stalked down the corridor and distractedly rubbed a hand over hot metal, he thought about how correct they were. Though not where they thought they were. Since anything "nefarious" wasn't going on at this battlefield, in this bunker.

Oh no, that was half a world away, underneath Kalis and the energon refineries.

Such a pity.

The door to the room he'd claimed as his for the duration slid closed behind him, belying its rusted, makeshift look. The bunker was old, a leftover, and the only thing they had done when they took it over was moving in weapons and new equipment and furniture as needed.

Sitting down in one of those aformentioned new pieces furniture, Megatron disconnected all three of his cannons and slumped back. Still couldn't quite relax. The heat from the battle was still coursing through him, causing cables to stay tense, energon to continually be rerouted and charge to skitter down circuits and be held in preparation.

Megatron loathed to abort a battle. It was not, precisely, the only thing he lived for, but he was finely tuned, used to finishing what he started, may it be a task, a gladiator match, a battle...

With a grunt, he stroked the metal over his chestplates again, following the uneven surfaces and the rims of the sparklights...

Well.

There was more than one way to finish something...

::Lord Megatron? We have a stray Autobot. Interrogate or execute?::

Black hand frozen right over the dimming glow of his largest sparklight as the sequence to open his sparkchamber was initiated, Megatron scowled, glaring at the pitted floor. He was not in the mood---

The other hand, previously having rested on the armrest of the overblown "chair", relaxed from the fist it had turned into.

::Bring him in. It'd be a waste of opportunity and I am currently otherwise unoccupied.:: So to speak, really, because this still didn't stop him from sitting back again and allowing the opening sequence to run its course.

He'd waste less time and make use of his tension by simply questioning the mech either during, or after.

Comments

[ichooseboth]

With the number of times he had been hit and the amount of vertigo and static in his vision, Orion was sure his helm had a good sized dent in it. But really, that was the least of his concerns at this point.

Too dizzy to stand, and the fight at least temporarily beaten out of him by those that captured him, he 'allowed' himself to be dragged into Megatron's inner sanctum on his knees. Even if he could stand, the fear was making his spark pulse erratically, though he refused to verbalize it.

Megatron. It was a name they all had learned to fear, thanks to his infamous cruelty. He wasn't even sure why he was still functional.

A mere grunt like him surely wouldn't last long in the tyrant's clutches, he was sure.

[lordmegatron]

The two impromptu guards jerked to a stop with the prisoner right inside the doors, and it was only partly due to respect shown. Mostly, they'd frozen where they were when they entered with their prisoner and realised what was going on.

"... Lord Megatron?" It was probably a commendable effort from the Decepticon that he didn't stutter even if it took him a moment to start his vocaliser without glitching. And yet another moment longer for them both to rip their optics away from the swirling spark, only partially hidded by the hand close to the bared spark chamber, a finger lingering along the rim.

"Should we--- ah..."

The Lord of the Decepticons snorted and waved at the floor in front of the chair he was sitting on with the hand that he wasn't teasing the edge of the most sensitive spot on his whole frame with, the circuits connecting to the edge sparking slightly where black metal touched.

"Over there. I'll take care of him as soon as I've taken care of this. Dismissed," he snapped and the two guards jerked to attention, dragging the relatively short Autobot between them to the indicated spot. They pulled apart the cuffs he'd been tied with, activating the energy chains and the other end of the cuffs, locking them to the floor and effectively chaining him to the ground, short enough he wouldn't be able to move much from his kneeling position.

Then they saluted and nearly fled.

Megatron could have laughed and instead dismissed his two embarrassed soldiers to look over the grunt that had wandered too far from the herd.

He didn't look like a soldier. At all.

"Tell me, Autobot... what's an archivist doing on a battlefield?" Megatron's voice had dropped compared from his earlier barked orders, both from incredulous amusement and the tingling charge dancing around his fingers as he, for the moment, avoided the outer corona and trailed his finger in a slowly inwards-spiral pattern around the rim of his bared spark chamber.

[ichooseboth]

Orion swayed on the spot as he was shackled down, and it was a struggle just to remain on his knees despite the indignity of the position...and his incredulous gaping.

He had to reset his unfocused (damaged, he noted idly,) optics before he could even be certain of what he was witnessing first hand. He vented hotly, embarrassed, before he could even think about retaining his self-imposed silence.

Politeness demanded he look away...but he refused to show further weakness, even if he felt dangerously off-balance, like he was listing helplessly to one side.

"...Even an archivist might fight, if his archive is threatened. And you've threatened far more than that."

[lordmegatron]

It shouldn't be as amusing at it was to see that flash of absolute surprise and incredulity before the prisoner looks away, but it was. Some might feel unsettled or embarrassed at being... as exposed as he was leaving himself, but truly... The mech before him, smaller, weaker, chained down and weaponless as he was, wasn't enough of a threat to bother feeling embarrassed in front of.

Besides that, he was still hot, a charge running over his plating in a way that meant only a few things, and the little Autobot? Wasn't a worthy opponent even if he let him go and gave him his fusion cannon.

"I have, haven't I?" He chuckled then, optics dimming while he studied the Autobot; graceful, if still sturdly lines and angles and a pretty pleasing colour-scheme. Not too terrible of a view as he brushed just lightly against the outer corona, barely enough to make the energy pulse outwards towards the very fingers touching it. "And yet you have no idea why, and fight blindly... for what?"

Rethorical; most would fight to keep their way of life of course. Fight for it or against it. Once again he dipped his fingers into the outer energy, ghostly swirls tingling against his fingers and his engine dropped down to idly hum on a deeper pitch as he relaxed a bit more into his seat.

[ichooseboth]

It was a struggle to keep focused on the important things. His injuries, his dire situation...

Head listing awkwardly to the side, he could not help but see and watch the sight of the most feared tyrant in recent memory carelessly and shamelessly exposing his spark to self-pleasure in front of a captive.

Who could focus in the face of that?

...It was clearly an interrogation tactic. And a brilliant one at that.

"...I hardly fight blindly. I fight for my own freedom and existence. The very things you would deny me if you had your way."

[lordmegatron]

Knees falling open as he relaxed and splayed his fingertips onto the outer surface of his spark, pushing inwards enough to cause a flare of tendrils out around his hand and a pulse that he could feel through his whole frame, causing a small jerk, Megatron at first merely smirked at the reply given.

Helm tilting as he let up for a moment on the pressure and scraped along the circuits instead, remaining still despite the rising heat, the charge that wanted to jerk and pull at circuits and cables, Megatron shrugged.

"Temporarily, yes. Some things need to be sacrificed, and I hardly deny anyone their existence... In that case I'd have killed every single one on the planet already. There's a reason for all of it, but it's hard to get to the Council without tearing up the rest of Cybertron," he said with a rumble, voice dropping and optics flickering, dimming and then flaring stronger as the heel of his hand pushed against the core of his spark, resistant under the metal.

He was watching the chained down mech closely through narrow optics, very much amused and enjoying his attempts to not look, the tension flickering over his frame... Megatron wasn't really an exhibitionist, he didn't truly get anything out of driving himself to overload while someone watched...

But he did like the attention of being watched, in whichever situation, the reactions of an audience helpless to his actions. It was gratifying.

[ichooseboth]

Orion managed a somewhat-delayed snort of contempt at Megatron's words, hard pressed to avoid watching the free 'show'. He couldn't help but have a sort of...morbid, train-wreck sort of curiosity about it.

Watching the mech that was probably going to kill him getting his post-murder charge off. It was ridiculous, and so insane no one would ever believe him if he dared place it in an actual report.

Was this really the mech everyone feared? His spark looked the same as any spark; warm and bright and as tempting as all those that he had seen personally.

...which was rapidly becoming a problem for the bound archivist.

"...The Council? You're wiping out droves of your own people to get at them?"

He leaned back as far away as the chains would allow him, disgust naked on his exposed face. ...And disgust was good. It could cover up any other, far more inappropriate expressions before he could even make them.

[lordmegatron]

"Short-term? Yes." Megatron just smiled, too sharply, too much teeth, at the disgust on that too-soft, too-open face. There wasn't just didgust here, but the disgust itself was as amusing as anything else.

There was more to it than that, of course, but he doubted this whelp would pick up on what he was actually saying, what his choice of words were implying... Which, frankly, just made it all the better.

Shifting his hand to almost "clutch" at his own spark, twisting in a short, jerking motion, Megatron was momentarily not really in a position to continue speaking, his hand shivering minutely as uncontrolled charge from spark and the circuitry around it both lashed up the fine workings of his hand, helm falling back and optics flashing.

Almost.

Energy thrumming through him, he dug a foot into the floor, denting it as his spark flared again, swirling around and against the touch, the sensation partly physical, partly not, and threading fire outwards along his limbs.

"There were warnings, there were reasons given... Those who are---nnh... standing in the way now have chosen to do so despite that." Not that there hadn't been civilian casualties; he wouldn't deny that.

Sacrifices, points made.

The Council, as part of what he wanted to do, would learn its folly, that they couldn't deal with the figurative minions of Unicron and stand unopposed.

[ichooseboth]

"Whatever your reasons may be-" and rumors of them abounded amongst the ranks of the defenders, from freedom-fighter to insane murderer to everything in between- "Your methods are beyond overkill! It's madness."

Even building himself up to a good, righteous rant, Orion couldn't help but wince slightly at the rougher methods Megatron was using to stir his spark towards completion, but he could not deny that they were apparently...effective.

Very effective. Orion shifted in his chains uncomfortably, dizzy and now far too warm, remembering too late to keep his eyes averted.

The mech in front of him disgusted him in the worst of ways. And yet...

Not for the first time, he felt a quiver of fear.

[lordmegatron]

To be absolutely honest, it was somewhere inbetween those two extremes, while adding a dash of grandiose egotism with a tyrant flavour. Though while he was certainly a murderer, insane he wasn't.

Dim optics falling down to refocus on his very unwilling audience, Megatron cocked his helm. Digging his hand in again, nearly too harshly, a restrained drawn-out jerk traveled through the powerful frame.

This time, however, he kept his gaze on Orion, a knowing, mocking grin somehow lingering despite his frame reacting to and busy with the rising charge laying heavy around his spark.

"Others... have tried other methods. Gentler. More fair---" Briefly, Megatron gasped, static fuzzing out his words and his helm tipping backwards to expose his neck and yet he managed to stare. "Hmm. More fair ones, I suppose. They've failed. I'm rectifying the situation, and will get us where we should be."

His engine working on a pitch low enough the vibrations were adding to the sensations, Megatron slowly uncurled his other hand from where it was clutching at the armrest of the chair... throne, honestly, and first dug a finger down along the seams on the inside of a thigh, then moved to press the heel of the hand down against his pelvic armour.

Another twist of the hand nearly buried - dangerously so, but he didn't have the patience at the moment for anything else - in his spark and at the same time redirecting the deeply thrumming feedback from the engine vibrations to the sensor nodes around his spark chamber and finally...

Orion would thus be witness to something few got to see, despite the warlord's nonchalance over baring his spark in the presence of his soldiers or a chained down prisoner; the Lord of the Decepticons twisting around his own hands, overspill charge manifesting as licks of blue lightning at joints, his (perfectly normal) spark heaving and flaring out around the hand so "abusing" it.

Megatron jerked, ground down both against the seat he was sitting on, and into his own hand and then suddenly slumped against the back of the seat. Optics completely dark as his helm was tilted back and the black hand falling away, for a moment, he was... still.

Not frozen, merely utterly relaxed.

[ichooseboth]

Mouth opened to verbally retaliate, Orion froze at the stare, vocalizer gone inexplicably quiet. Instinctively, he tried to lean away, bonds slowly going taunt; such was the intensity of the look that Megatron felt far too close, uncomfortably close, despite being several frame-lengths apart.

Even worse, his optics dropped unwillingly to the...display involving Megatron's spark that silenced him.

He watched silently, jaw clenched along with the rest of his frame from the tension, venting a heated sigh when the tyrant finally slumped in completion.

[lordmegatron]

Unfortunately, that still moment didn't last very long at all before those red optics flared abruptly to life again. The glow lambent and colouring the edges of his helm that framed his faceplates and the cheek themselves boldly rose, pale enough against Megatron's off-white metal that it almost looked like energon smeared out.

Lazily stroking over the still-bared spark as the metal slid closed over it again, Megatron considered his prisoner, optics narrowing as he took Orion's frame in. Leaned away in an attempt for space - not so very odd.

That tension though... and the sigh he'd definitely heard, as well as the readings just a brief scan gave him, had a slow smirk bloom out over his lips.

"I am finished..." he said, trailing off as he stood up and briefly frowned down at the floor and the dents he'd worked into it. Shoddy worksmanship, but that might be because the bunker wasn't very old.

"You, on the other hand... looks like you've barely started." Stalking slowly forward, Megatron noted the tautness of the energy chains, knowing the Autobot couldn't get any further back.

He probably would try anyway as Megatron kneeled in front of him and put a finger underneath his chin to tilt it up.

[ichooseboth]

The unexpected recovery was enough to make the archivist jump in his chains, despite the injuries. He had barely even begun to relax and calm himself from whatever unwilling heat had begun to build...

When Megatron made to close the distance, Orion jerked back- or tried to at least, knees sliding forward across the floor with the sudden force.

"-What?!" Optics gone wide, he flicked his helm to the side, dislodging the finger as panic blossomed, sharp and staticky in his spark.

Despite the futility, he strained at the bonds, their glow brightening as the energon only got stronger with the exertion, while his thin armor creaked in protest.

[lordmegatron]

"I can tell when someone's getting worked up, so do yourself a favour and don't act surprised." There was a threatening rumble underlying Megatron's words, but he didn't exactly snap. He was still relaxed enough the percieved coyness wasn't lethally annoying.

And besides, he could certainly appreciate what little strength the mech could put into fighting the chains, glancing down to note the colour and intensity of the chains as Orion strained backwards.

Engine thrumming softly, Megatron didn't bother with catching Orion's chin again and rather curled one hand around an upper arm, smallest finger resting against the partly bared elbow joint and subtly pressing it inwards.

The other hand, the one which had offended by tilting Orion's chin back was spread over the prisoner's chestplates, too-hot and even vibrating slightly. Though from Megatron's expression one couldn't guess he'd done anything to enhance the touch on the less-armoured frame, his narrowed stare nearly blank.

Underneath that, however, and threathening to surface, was both amusement and a predatory urge to make sure he got what he wanted. Right now, what he wanted had nothing to do with death or pain in particular.

[ichooseboth]

Orion jerked against the heavy grasp of the huge hand, startled and repulsed by the heady jolt that shot through his arm at the touch to his unarmored joint.

No.

"I'll- be surprised if I damn well please- get off of me!"

The touch over his chest, over his spark, tellingly warm from the 'show' - that brought out true fear. He couldn't lean back any further, but that didn't stop him from trying anyway, optics opened to their widest aperture in sick fear. He shook himself, distantly aware he'd sooner do more damage to the floor and himself than shake the war-mech's touch away if he didn't want to be moved.

[lordmegatron]

That was certainly true, and Megatron wasn't going to be moved at the moment. The hand on Orion's arm tightened suddenly, a lot less gentle than previously. Though the finger against the joint remained surprisingly light on the joint even as the rest threatened to crush thinner metal.

"Stay still!" Snapping, Megatron shifted to lean closer not needing to change his position since he was - even when kneeling - taller than the relatively short Autobot.

"We can do this several ways, Autobot, and you wouldn't like the other possibilities." He paused, bent over Orion, their faces close enough it was like a mockery of a near-kiss. "All of them would include you leaving here alive and functional, however." The index finger splayed over Orion's chest drew a slow, caressing half-circle. The motion was probably threatening in context, but there was sincere promise in what Megatron was saying.