He'd left Orion recharging when he'd had to leave after a few cycles - a recharge cycle cut short of the usual joor was a small price to pay for a pleasant and... ahem, relaxing evening.

That was three days ago, and while they'd managed to squeeze in some meetings during the day like usual and a - he supposed - pleasant enough dinner date, that was all. Megatron would certainly like to see Orion more, but training and actual matches had to take their space - he wasn't going to lose his edge.

And said edge unfortunately included image as well, which, while needless decoration, had its uses. Therefore he was up earlier than he necessarily had to be for a match that started at noon (a prestige one, though he was "merely" there as the roadblock, it was his opponent that would need a particular score and wins to qualify to the State Games, not him) for the rather lengthy process of painting the necessary glyphs.

With a snort, Megatron sat down on the berth and picked up the high-pressure precision airbrush, running through which glyphs would be suitable for this occasion.

Nothing too ostentatious, but enough to make a point, to his opponent if nothing else...