[ he never forgets at they are in a war. they have crawled and killed, and so much of what makes him up isn't what he was anymore. from a shadow in the corner of the street, prying for information for his contractor, to the comms officer in a planet-wide rebellion, his orders, his missions, his goals, they align with the decepticon cause. and no where, no time in his off hours does he forget that they are at war. it's only the briefest touch against his chin that takes him away for a fraction of a second - a moment he would reflect on later, much later - before he turns sharply, lest his pause was seen as hesitation to follow the order.
he pause, near the entrance. his posture doesn't change so much as the feel of him does - the way the stands still, head cocked to a direction of a secret in the subfrequencies or some other bullshit. ]
Overlord ...approaches.
[ it's a while later when he sees megatron again. he doesn't question the new patch work and marks. ]
no subject
he pause, near the entrance. his posture doesn't change so much as the feel of him does - the way the stands still, head cocked to a direction of a secret in the subfrequencies or some other bullshit. ]
Overlord ...approaches.
[ it's a while later when he sees megatron again. he doesn't question the new patch work and marks. ]