Adjustment of character, 18
This is more or less the end. There's gonna be another 'half chapter' which will be pure Road/Metro smut, but that's as much for my friend as anything. The 'story' ends here... Of these mechs. Oh, yes, I have another story already though of. Shockwave wants his say.
Amber stayed more or less in her room for the next few orns, until Roadstead got tired of it. Oh, he understood what her problem was... He just didn't feel like indulging it.
"It's really past time you stop this, Amber. I know you're in a bit of shock over what you did. And by the way, there's copy of the video waiting for you... So yes, I do know what you did." Roadstead stood in the door-way and looked at the femme, who was idly drawing on a pad. She looked up as he spoke.
"But... After putting up so much of a fight, and I just- and- And I still don't even remember them, except that I looked them up..." Amber answered, a weak and disjointed protest.
Roadstead nodded a little, soothingly. "You feel like you changed so fast and so easily. Like you betrayed yourself? But you didn't. This change was not fast, not on the time-scale you still think in."
Looking up, Amber flickered her optics and her wings in confusion. "It wasn't? But it's only been a few months...?"
"A few groons. Each groon is almost two years. Three groons is five years, and five years living with a Seeker and his pet... I'm surprised it took as long as it did. I expected you to crack in Vos..." Roadstead smiled. It was good that Amber had adjusted so easily to the Transformer time-scale, but for this one, he was glad he could say she still thought in the human times. It made it easier...
"...Oh... I guess it... has been a while..." Amber said, musingly. After a moment she nodded, though it was still slow. "And being hired for- I mean, paid... I mean, no-one's going to think... less of me. ...After I reformat, no-one will even recognize me! So..." She gave a small, shy smile. "And it did feel good. They were nice..."
"I'm sure they were," Roadstead agreed, chuckling. "I did tell you they like Seeker-frames, and they're pretty nice mechs anyway. But you still want a tank, don't you? Even if all you do is keep his house clean and other, ah... Snow White slag."
Her smile was still shy as Amber stood, nodding. "Yeah. I still think I'm partial to tanks. They're very, ah... handsome in the shows."
"So let's take you to a place you can meet a few..." Roadstead said, pushing off the door-frame.
Thus began the taking of Amber to various bars and clubs, any place which Roadstead thought, or Metrodash said, there would be unattached tanks, or attached tanks who needed cleaner houses.
The first couple of orns, they got nowhere, which Roadstead had more or less expected. Amber was hesitant, unsure, and hid behind the Seeker. It wasn't until the fourth orn out that she started to approach mechs, and even then Roadstead had to more or less order her to do so. She must have had a terrible social life before translation, he thought.
After a full deca-orn, something happened which Roadstead hadn't expected. A white and yellow tank came up behind Amber when she was trying to get drinks, and, as near as Roadstead could tell, spoke quietly with her.
He wasn't going to complain. As long as the mech understood that Amber was a helio at spark...
For the rest of that night, Roadstead just drank energon and watched Amber talk, and dance, and laugh, with the unknown tank. He wasn't curious enough to ping for his name, though he did wonder if this was what it might feel like to have a sparkling. He tried to push the thought away. He didn't want sparklings yet, and he certainly didn't want any like Amber!
Ultimately, Amber came up to Roadstead alone, though she had rather a lot to say about the mech. Guzzle, she said his name was, and that he certainly lived up to it. She also said he had been watching her for the last few orns, something which Roadstead couldn't confirm but saw no reason to deny. He certainly sounded smarter than an average tank, though Roadstead knew that was prejudiced and insulting. Considering how taken Amber seemed to be with this Guzzle, he didn't bother pointing out that the actions were much closer to 'courting' than 'looking for a maid'.
They went back the next evening, and the same dance commenced. Roadstead tolerated it for a few more evenings, and then he was done being ignored. As much as he didn't like it, he was Amber's guardian, and Guzzle slagging well needed to respect that.
This time, when Guzzle moved in to greet Amber (they were up to short hugs), Roadstead left his chair and picked his way over to them. Guzzle noticed him coming, and tried to duck behind Amber's sweeping wings. The Seeker wondered if she even realized she was trying to protect the tank.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just checking you out, so relax," Roadstead said, pushing Amber out of the way. "Pit, I'm glad you're interested in her! But we still have to talk, and trying to hide doesn't really bode well..."
"...Sorry, sir," the tank murmured, edging his way out and shivering a little. "I'm not scared. I'm just..." He shifted, showing a scratched and obscured Autobot mark. Theirs was a brand like the Decepticons, but without the loyalty coding and virus, or exclusivity.
"I see. And now you're on New Kaon... Keeping your head down?" Roadstead nodded a little, mostly to himself. A former Autobot might be good for Amber. Either way, it was clear she liked him...
"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. I don't want to give anyone troubles... but I do like Amber. She's... fun to talk to. And she told me she needs to format to rotary, so I already know that..."
Amber interrupted then. "I've told him more or less everything you said was important."
He thought, then shrugged. "Well, it does sound like the basics were covered, at least. And despite what it might seem, I'm not trying to hurry things along. But you, Guzzle, have to calm down. You're allowed to walk free, we're not going to be judging you. And you don't have to call anyone sir, it's kind of weird..." Roadstead twitched his wings. "Well. I guess it doesn't matter. I do suggest you two hang out outside of this club, though, and I will be waiting for your final decision- both of yours."
With a final, polite, nod, Roadstead outright left. Amber could, maybe, handle herself, and she certainly ought to be able to do so by now, and Roadstead didn't really want to stay in the club. Not a grounder's club, anyway. He had his own clubs to go to... And the Seeker very much did want to go to those.
A few more deca-orns passed, with Amber and Guzzle actually continuing to draw closer. Roadstead was actually pretty amazed. He had foreseen this process taking much longer. Then again, it wasn't quite exactly as though they were dating...
Until Amber started staying at Guzzle's apartment. That was really quite the last straw for Roadstead, because if she was staying there, there was no reason for him to be staying off the frontlines. However, without her telling him, and a negotiated contract to prove it, he couldn't leave.
And so the brown Seeker did the only thing he really could. He called a meeting with Guzzle, in one of the small, empty offices available for visiting branded Decepticons, or those who normally didn't need such a thing. He knew that Guzzle didn't feel comfortable with authority, but with the tank wasting his time like this, Roadstead found he didn't care.
Roadstead had settled in at the borrowed desk by the time Guzzle came, unsurprisingly with Amber. The femme didn't look particularly happy, but Guzzle wasn't letting her talk, holding her hand and pulling her to sit in the backless couch provided. Roadstead didn't want them uncomfortable, not terribly so, he just wanted to get across the fact that he had better things to be doing.
"You- You wanted to see me? Er... sir?" the white tank said, and it was very clear now that he had once been an Autobot, and still had much of the conditioning. He was more officious than a Decepticon would be, than he needed to be.
The brown Seeker nodded, though he smiled reassuringly. "I'm really not going to hurt you. But I've been rather expecting a meeting before now. I would say it's clear that Amber wants to stay with you- and I'm not asking details. So we just have to make it official."
Guzzle wrung his hands together a little before venturing, "We've been waiting because... well, we... we don't want to make something too... restrictive..."
Roadstead didn't even try to hide his smile at that. "That's not a problem with Decepticon contracts. I would have thought you'd been here long enough to know that. We'll set out the minimum you're required to do, but leave open possibilities..."
Wing-flutter distracted him slightly, the nonsensical garble of a femme using the wrong wing-motions. Amber was embarrassed, Roadstead thought, but still holding on to Guzzle's hand. Well, he wasn't going to ask. It wasn't his business, once he had determined Guzzle wasn't hurting or forcing her.
"Metrodash already wrote this up. You'll be obligated to see that she gets reformatted within a groon, Guzzle. You're also obligated to fuel and house her until you've been repaid. Amber, all you're obligated to do is chores around the house. Cleaning, maybe polishing, picking things up. No hard labor. You are not required to touch him, or anyone else, in any way." Roadstead handed them the pad with the information.
"Of course, and I'm sure you noticed, but nothing there says more can't be asked. Or offered." Roadstead smiled, though his wings were somewhat obscene. "Also, if you find you can't stand each other after a while, there's a provision for transferring the contract to a new mech."
Amber read it before Guzzle did, and Roadstead had the feeling that the tank would have simply taken his word for everything if Amber hadn't made him start. "That looks... a lot simpler than human contracts are..." she murmured. "Um. O-one question? Before, er... you're not responsible...?"
It was a little surprising, but Roadstead nodded. "Sure."
"I know you said I should update my own ID, and I get all that! But... How do I add a designation?" Amber looked down as she asked. "I mean... I can't 'prove' the change...?"
Roadstead chuckled, but he hadn't told Amber that. He had expected her new caretaker to know... but maybe it made sense that Guzzle didn't. "Have you checked the registry for the designation you want? You need to make sure that no other helio has it." Given the permutations of their language, that was much less of a restriction than it seemed. The hard part came when a designation needed to be translated...
"And then, assuming it's free, you just fill in the field. Because you don't have a designation, you get to 'change' it for free this time." Designations were changed, at times, but Roadstead very much doubted that any 'civilian' would find a need to change such one. If she did, she could ask someone else!
"I- It is. And I just..." Amber paused, gaze flickering to Guzzle, who looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back, nervously, and then went unfocused again. A moment later, she looked at Roadstead. "When... can I start using it?"
"You have to wait for the official update, but I suspect-" Roadstead paused as Amber, still very human, flinched a little and then smiled again. Just as he had thought... changes to designations were usually handled very quickly. Pinging the info-net, he nodded. "And now you can use it. ...Cleansweep?"
The femme looked down again, and Guzzle answered. "She's... very good at vaccuuming..."
"I don't care!" Roadstead said, raising his hands a little and laughing. "Is there anything on the contract that needs to be changed? No? Then sign and get out of my life!" He smiled when he said that, though, and he really wouldn't mind the occasional note, or message...
Two quiet 'yes sir's met his words, and first Guzzle and then Amber- Cleansweep, signed, looking quite too giddy over something so mundane. Roadstead added his glyph, then took the pad. "I'll get this filed. You two... good luck. I really do mean that." Standing, he saw them out the door, then parted ways.
Amber stayed more or less in her room for the next few orns, until Roadstead got tired of it. Oh, he understood what her problem was... He just didn't feel like indulging it.
"It's really past time you stop this, Amber. I know you're in a bit of shock over what you did. And by the way, there's copy of the video waiting for you... So yes, I do know what you did." Roadstead stood in the door-way and looked at the femme, who was idly drawing on a pad. She looked up as he spoke.
"But... After putting up so much of a fight, and I just- and- And I still don't even remember them, except that I looked them up..." Amber answered, a weak and disjointed protest.
Roadstead nodded a little, soothingly. "You feel like you changed so fast and so easily. Like you betrayed yourself? But you didn't. This change was not fast, not on the time-scale you still think in."
Looking up, Amber flickered her optics and her wings in confusion. "It wasn't? But it's only been a few months...?"
"A few groons. Each groon is almost two years. Three groons is five years, and five years living with a Seeker and his pet... I'm surprised it took as long as it did. I expected you to crack in Vos..." Roadstead smiled. It was good that Amber had adjusted so easily to the Transformer time-scale, but for this one, he was glad he could say she still thought in the human times. It made it easier...
"...Oh... I guess it... has been a while..." Amber said, musingly. After a moment she nodded, though it was still slow. "And being hired for- I mean, paid... I mean, no-one's going to think... less of me. ...After I reformat, no-one will even recognize me! So..." She gave a small, shy smile. "And it did feel good. They were nice..."
"I'm sure they were," Roadstead agreed, chuckling. "I did tell you they like Seeker-frames, and they're pretty nice mechs anyway. But you still want a tank, don't you? Even if all you do is keep his house clean and other, ah... Snow White slag."
Her smile was still shy as Amber stood, nodding. "Yeah. I still think I'm partial to tanks. They're very, ah... handsome in the shows."
"So let's take you to a place you can meet a few..." Roadstead said, pushing off the door-frame.
Thus began the taking of Amber to various bars and clubs, any place which Roadstead thought, or Metrodash said, there would be unattached tanks, or attached tanks who needed cleaner houses.
The first couple of orns, they got nowhere, which Roadstead had more or less expected. Amber was hesitant, unsure, and hid behind the Seeker. It wasn't until the fourth orn out that she started to approach mechs, and even then Roadstead had to more or less order her to do so. She must have had a terrible social life before translation, he thought.
After a full deca-orn, something happened which Roadstead hadn't expected. A white and yellow tank came up behind Amber when she was trying to get drinks, and, as near as Roadstead could tell, spoke quietly with her.
He wasn't going to complain. As long as the mech understood that Amber was a helio at spark...
For the rest of that night, Roadstead just drank energon and watched Amber talk, and dance, and laugh, with the unknown tank. He wasn't curious enough to ping for his name, though he did wonder if this was what it might feel like to have a sparkling. He tried to push the thought away. He didn't want sparklings yet, and he certainly didn't want any like Amber!
Ultimately, Amber came up to Roadstead alone, though she had rather a lot to say about the mech. Guzzle, she said his name was, and that he certainly lived up to it. She also said he had been watching her for the last few orns, something which Roadstead couldn't confirm but saw no reason to deny. He certainly sounded smarter than an average tank, though Roadstead knew that was prejudiced and insulting. Considering how taken Amber seemed to be with this Guzzle, he didn't bother pointing out that the actions were much closer to 'courting' than 'looking for a maid'.
They went back the next evening, and the same dance commenced. Roadstead tolerated it for a few more evenings, and then he was done being ignored. As much as he didn't like it, he was Amber's guardian, and Guzzle slagging well needed to respect that.
This time, when Guzzle moved in to greet Amber (they were up to short hugs), Roadstead left his chair and picked his way over to them. Guzzle noticed him coming, and tried to duck behind Amber's sweeping wings. The Seeker wondered if she even realized she was trying to protect the tank.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just checking you out, so relax," Roadstead said, pushing Amber out of the way. "Pit, I'm glad you're interested in her! But we still have to talk, and trying to hide doesn't really bode well..."
"...Sorry, sir," the tank murmured, edging his way out and shivering a little. "I'm not scared. I'm just..." He shifted, showing a scratched and obscured Autobot mark. Theirs was a brand like the Decepticons, but without the loyalty coding and virus, or exclusivity.
"I see. And now you're on New Kaon... Keeping your head down?" Roadstead nodded a little, mostly to himself. A former Autobot might be good for Amber. Either way, it was clear she liked him...
"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. I don't want to give anyone troubles... but I do like Amber. She's... fun to talk to. And she told me she needs to format to rotary, so I already know that..."
Amber interrupted then. "I've told him more or less everything you said was important."
He thought, then shrugged. "Well, it does sound like the basics were covered, at least. And despite what it might seem, I'm not trying to hurry things along. But you, Guzzle, have to calm down. You're allowed to walk free, we're not going to be judging you. And you don't have to call anyone sir, it's kind of weird..." Roadstead twitched his wings. "Well. I guess it doesn't matter. I do suggest you two hang out outside of this club, though, and I will be waiting for your final decision- both of yours."
With a final, polite, nod, Roadstead outright left. Amber could, maybe, handle herself, and she certainly ought to be able to do so by now, and Roadstead didn't really want to stay in the club. Not a grounder's club, anyway. He had his own clubs to go to... And the Seeker very much did want to go to those.
A few more deca-orns passed, with Amber and Guzzle actually continuing to draw closer. Roadstead was actually pretty amazed. He had foreseen this process taking much longer. Then again, it wasn't quite exactly as though they were dating...
Until Amber started staying at Guzzle's apartment. That was really quite the last straw for Roadstead, because if she was staying there, there was no reason for him to be staying off the frontlines. However, without her telling him, and a negotiated contract to prove it, he couldn't leave.
And so the brown Seeker did the only thing he really could. He called a meeting with Guzzle, in one of the small, empty offices available for visiting branded Decepticons, or those who normally didn't need such a thing. He knew that Guzzle didn't feel comfortable with authority, but with the tank wasting his time like this, Roadstead found he didn't care.
Roadstead had settled in at the borrowed desk by the time Guzzle came, unsurprisingly with Amber. The femme didn't look particularly happy, but Guzzle wasn't letting her talk, holding her hand and pulling her to sit in the backless couch provided. Roadstead didn't want them uncomfortable, not terribly so, he just wanted to get across the fact that he had better things to be doing.
"You- You wanted to see me? Er... sir?" the white tank said, and it was very clear now that he had once been an Autobot, and still had much of the conditioning. He was more officious than a Decepticon would be, than he needed to be.
The brown Seeker nodded, though he smiled reassuringly. "I'm really not going to hurt you. But I've been rather expecting a meeting before now. I would say it's clear that Amber wants to stay with you- and I'm not asking details. So we just have to make it official."
Guzzle wrung his hands together a little before venturing, "We've been waiting because... well, we... we don't want to make something too... restrictive..."
Roadstead didn't even try to hide his smile at that. "That's not a problem with Decepticon contracts. I would have thought you'd been here long enough to know that. We'll set out the minimum you're required to do, but leave open possibilities..."
Wing-flutter distracted him slightly, the nonsensical garble of a femme using the wrong wing-motions. Amber was embarrassed, Roadstead thought, but still holding on to Guzzle's hand. Well, he wasn't going to ask. It wasn't his business, once he had determined Guzzle wasn't hurting or forcing her.
"Metrodash already wrote this up. You'll be obligated to see that she gets reformatted within a groon, Guzzle. You're also obligated to fuel and house her until you've been repaid. Amber, all you're obligated to do is chores around the house. Cleaning, maybe polishing, picking things up. No hard labor. You are not required to touch him, or anyone else, in any way." Roadstead handed them the pad with the information.
"Of course, and I'm sure you noticed, but nothing there says more can't be asked. Or offered." Roadstead smiled, though his wings were somewhat obscene. "Also, if you find you can't stand each other after a while, there's a provision for transferring the contract to a new mech."
Amber read it before Guzzle did, and Roadstead had the feeling that the tank would have simply taken his word for everything if Amber hadn't made him start. "That looks... a lot simpler than human contracts are..." she murmured. "Um. O-one question? Before, er... you're not responsible...?"
It was a little surprising, but Roadstead nodded. "Sure."
"I know you said I should update my own ID, and I get all that! But... How do I add a designation?" Amber looked down as she asked. "I mean... I can't 'prove' the change...?"
Roadstead chuckled, but he hadn't told Amber that. He had expected her new caretaker to know... but maybe it made sense that Guzzle didn't. "Have you checked the registry for the designation you want? You need to make sure that no other helio has it." Given the permutations of their language, that was much less of a restriction than it seemed. The hard part came when a designation needed to be translated...
"And then, assuming it's free, you just fill in the field. Because you don't have a designation, you get to 'change' it for free this time." Designations were changed, at times, but Roadstead very much doubted that any 'civilian' would find a need to change such one. If she did, she could ask someone else!
"I- It is. And I just..." Amber paused, gaze flickering to Guzzle, who looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back, nervously, and then went unfocused again. A moment later, she looked at Roadstead. "When... can I start using it?"
"You have to wait for the official update, but I suspect-" Roadstead paused as Amber, still very human, flinched a little and then smiled again. Just as he had thought... changes to designations were usually handled very quickly. Pinging the info-net, he nodded. "And now you can use it. ...Cleansweep?"
The femme looked down again, and Guzzle answered. "She's... very good at vaccuuming..."
"I don't care!" Roadstead said, raising his hands a little and laughing. "Is there anything on the contract that needs to be changed? No? Then sign and get out of my life!" He smiled when he said that, though, and he really wouldn't mind the occasional note, or message...
Two quiet 'yes sir's met his words, and first Guzzle and then Amber- Cleansweep, signed, looking quite too giddy over something so mundane. Roadstead added his glyph, then took the pad. "I'll get this filed. You two... good luck. I really do mean that." Standing, he saw them out the door, then parted ways.