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breadlam

Megatron sat at one of the tables lining the bar wall, seeming relaxed except for his contemplative expression as he stared at the datapad in his hands. Towards Peace. He reviewed this one in particular often, especially his recent edits and additions. Maybe looking at his own actions so far would reveal a path being taken, and thus, an idea of where to go. Like there was a line he could draw from what felt like directionless reactions. Nothing came to him as usual, so he continued idly scrolling the text while sipping some plain energon, paying little attention to the quiet activity around the room.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

weapabilities

It's been a few days being back. Things have been weird to say the least. Mercifully he'd been filled in, mostly. Still, nothing prepared him to see Megatron in person again. Unfortunately, he's already walked halfway into Swerve's and turned in his swords. So with an awkward pause he takes a seat. Not far enough from the "co-captain", as Rodimus had called him, as he'd like.

He knows their meeting is inevitable, but if he can put it off as long as he can, he'll be happy with that.

From:

aimlessgun

Even as engrossed in thought as he is, it's difficult to not be aware of new arrivals to the bar. He spares a glance upwards when the newcomer enters his field of vision: Deadlock. Or Drift, now. Truthfully, he found it hard to regard him tossing off the name he personally had given him with anything other than tired amusement, now that Megatron himself had essentially done the same. In fact, he was mildly curious of just how Drift might react to him- he wasn't across the room, and had actually sat down within hearing range.

Perhaps this might show just where he stood right now, after all.

Setting the pad down for good, he greeted the newly returned mech.
"Drift."

From:

weapabilities

Having resigned himself to an eventual meeting did not prepare him for hearing his name uttered by that voice again. His glass is fumbled and he spills his drink all over the counter, much to Swerve's ire. Quickly moving to help clean it up. He holds up a hand in an apologetic gesture.

"Yes, uh. Hi. There. Mgh... hi, hello."

From:

aimlessgun

Well, 'obvious discomfort and need to leave immediately' wasn't 'outright hostility'. That was almost surprising, but getting him nowhere, and he didn't care to sit and wait however long it would take for Drift to make an actual sentence on his own.

"You won't be a particularly effective third in command if you can only blubber around your captain." The wording was somewhat harsh, but it had no real bite behind it- more of a distanced observation than anything else.

From:

weapabilities

Drift is immediately more indignant than anything else. He puffs up and scowls.

"I didn't assume I would be your third in command. I'm Rodimus' third, sure but-" Well. Semantics. Either way, working under Megatron again for any reason felt. Weird.

"I'm sorry, my aura is a bit cloudy right now."

From:

aimlessgun

Briefly he considered pointing out that any position on the ship would fall under him anyway, but Drift surely knew that, and he wasn't here to assert some sort of power anyway. And-...

He raises an optic ridge. "Your... aura."

From:

weapabilities

Drift fixes him with a challenging expression.

"Yes. My aura. My energies. They're clouded with- things." Look, he doesn't want to go in on about his feelings, but he sure as hell will tell you about his energies.

From:

aimlessgun

Megatron considered voicing how unimpressed he was, but settled for a flat look in Drift's direction. He knew what he meant, anyway- he had a lot on his mind. Even if he did say it in the most obfuscated and annoyingly fluffy way possible.

"Hm. Aren't we all like that nowadays." He's looking away, and his expression is thoughtful rather than harsh.

From:

weapabilities

Hm. He's never seen Megatron so uncertain before. It's weird and almost scarier than him being- well. Himself.

"Yes, well. The war has poisoned us all, spiritually." He notes quietly, relaxing a little when he realizes he's probably not going to be immediately torn limb from limb.

From:

aimlessgun

"Millions of years of war twists a mech, doesn't it." Something he hadn't realized the full extent of until recently.

"But then, what do you do after it, I wonder." An opening for input, if he so wanted. Megatron was still not making eye contact, unable to completely own his uncertainty in front of Drift.

From:

weapabilities

"I- well yes."

It's still weird. It's like he's still Megatron, still there, but stripped to his core. Lost, a little. What a suitable crew to join, Drift muses. They're all a little lost.

"Haven't quite figured that out, myself." Drift says finally, taking an uncomfortable sip of his drink.

"Thought someone like you would have all the answers. What would you be doing had you won?"

From:

aimlessgun

His dry look returned for a moment, unsure if Drift was mocking him.

"As if you haven't heard of the phases."

A pause.

"That.. was the plan."

Yes, was. Should he somehow be in charge now? He honestly didn't know.

From:

weapabilities

"Well yes, I know the phases. I'm not dense, but I figured maybe all of that changed you know. The deeper things got." Drift shrugs. "Just wasn't sure if that was the plan right up until the end or-"

He tenses, unsure if he's pressing any buttons. Megatron had always been difficult to read.

"Or when you realized the path you were on wasn't the same one you'd started on."

From:

aimlessgun

Megatron tenses as well, visibly bristling.

"Considering how that lined up with.. all of this," he gestures vaguely to the room, "yes, that would have been it right 'until the end'."

"Were I in charge somehow now, I," He gives a hard sigh, frustrated and maybe a bit frightened by how he didn't truly have an answer. "I don't know."

"Rebuild, I think."

From:

weapabilities

"Rebuild. What would you have done with people like me?" Drift suspects, but he wants to hear Megatron say it. "People like you now, I guess. That's weird, isn't it? People like us."

Frowns and stares at his hands.

"People like us."

From:

aimlessgun

He almost wants to laugh. Almost. Did it disturb Drift, to realize just how alike they were?

"Yes, exactly like us."
He spoke without smugness, though- just the strange, self-deprecating camaraderie between those at rock bottom.

Back to the matter at hand, though.
"Depends. Are you asking me, or myself if it had not ended this way?"