TG'verse. Prime's compound in Iacon. Safe port after the storm 2
The compound that they were crossing was huge... easily the largest group of buildings that Tigatron or Airazor could remember seeing, and there were still more buildings visible outside the wall....
Tigatron's hand tightened protectively around his spark-mate's as he looked up at those towering edifices. -So strange... they are taller than the mountains.-
-But beautiful.- Airazor thrilled with the urge to fly among them, then gave a soft beep of surprise and put her free hand to her chest.
"Airazor?" Tigatron stopped, having felt that slight hitch in her awareness.
"He's pressing against my circuits." Her voice and face were full of surprise and wonder. "And trying to talk to me." There was a wordless touch over her com. "Did you feel that?"
"Trying to talk?" Panacea had also stopped, her brow ridges lifting. "Don't worry, he's almost strong enough to transfer. You'll be free of all that poking soon. For now let's just get you home and find you a couch to rest on."
"Alright." The avian femme nodded, sending absent thanks to her mate as he put his arm around her shoulders supportively. It was only a few more strides to the large, low building that they were approaching, and then they were passing the guards at the front door and going down a short, comfortably decorated hallway.
Even before they reached the second door they could hear the noise.
"What the slag?" muttered Panacea irritably. "Oh, they better not be...."
She threw open the door and scowled at the two mechs who lay on the floor not far from it, the green one grimacing as the flame-emblazoned one twisted him up into an intricate wrestling pin. A softly-coloured small femme who closely resembled the flame mech was dancing around the pair and clapping her hands, while another, smaller and brighter mech who also wore flames was watching quietly from a relatively un-trashed corner of the room.
There was a moment's startled silence.
And then Panacea let out a roar. "WHAT THE SLAGGING PIT IS GOING ON HERE? YOU FRAGGING GLITCHES COULDN'T LEAVE THE HOUSE PRESENTABLE FOR ONE SLAGGING JOOR?? I'M GOING TO MELT YOU BOTH DOWN AND USE YOU FOR GARBAGE BARGE PARTS!!!"
Behind her Airazor grimaced with pain and nearly fell as the new spark in her spark compartment jagged with fear and hid behind her own. Tigatron caught her and held her close as he watched the outburst with wide optics, all his instincts urging him to either protect his mate or run.
The green mech and the watcher both flinched; the green one looking as though he feared for his life, but the larger flame mech just got to his feet and walked over to pull the raging femme close and set his lips to hers.
Panacea flailed and socked him upside the head a couple times, but then her fist loosened and she set her hand to the back of his helm in order to prolong the kiss.
"I'm still slagged at you," she informed him as she finally broke it, her optics snapping up at his laughing ones.
"We'll fix it." His grin was boyish and full of love as he set his forehead to hers. "And Springer's really sorry he made the mess. Right, Springer?"
The green mech just gave a wordless growl from where he was laying on his face trying to get his limbs to work as the little femme sat on his back.
"That doesn't improve the first impression that our guests just got," noted Panacea sourly.
"Guests...." Flame mech looked up at Tigatron and Airazor guiltily. "Ah... heh. Sorry about that. Things don't usually look this bad... wait... yes they do. Pansy, are you sure you want to bring them into this nut house?"
She jabbed him in a sensitive spot, then turned back to the newcomers without pulling out of his embrace. "One thing I can guarantee is that things don't usually get that loud. I'm sorry."
Tigatron nodded, unsure of what to say, then looked quickly toward an apparently empty armchair to one side of the larger couch. Was there someone there?
"This is my spark-mate, Rodimus Prime."
The words snapped his optics back to Panacea and he blinked, unconciously snapping to attention as Airazor attempted to do the same. "Rodimus Prime! I... this is an honor."
Rodimus shook his head at him. "At ease. Around here I'm just Roddi. And 'Dad'." He looked down at the little femme, who had given up her seat on the green mech and come to worm her way into he and Panacea's hug. "This is Oriana 2, the guy on the floor is Springer. Over in that corner is Blazer, and that creepy feeling that you're picking up is Ironhide."
"Ah'll creepy feelin' you, kid." A red and black mech hove into sight in the chair, his slightly out of focus faceplate holding a friendly grin.
"Ironhide's a ghost," continued Rodimus, giving the free spark a smirk. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. He's just here to take care of some unfinished business...."
"Dad!" A smaller replica of Ironhide came running from the entrance to an inner hallway and threw himself into the chair with the ghost, who yelped slightly and managed to catch him.
"And there's some of the unfinished business." Rodimus didn't blink. "Starforge. He's got a golden sister around here somewhere too. That'll be Nova. Ironhide's spark-mate, Chromia, lives here too."
Tigatron and Airazor were both looking a little overwhelmed by this point.
"This... feels like a dream," said the winged femme softly. "I wouldn't be surprised now if Optimus Prime walked in."
"Well, we had an Optimus Prima," said Rodimus, letting go of Panacea so that she could properly greet their sparkling. "But you've sort of met a half of her."
"What do you mean?" Tigatron tilted his head, frowning slightly.
The Autobot Prime pointed to his spark-mate.
Both Maximals blinked.
"She was my female creator." Panacea shrugged. "And Ratchet was my male one. I can't say I'm really related to them, though, because I was built a long time before we ever had the CR tanks or the technology to make sparks from existing codes."
"I think I need to lay down." Airazor's warm voice trembled, and she made no protest as Tigatron gently scooped her into his arms.
Panacea's expression darkened with concern as she gently pushed Oriana 2 away. "Alright. Your room's this way."
Rodimus watched her go, then leaped over Springer and started to quickly throw everything back into order. "You're a bad example, old man."
"Nobody said ya hadta try it out right now," retorted Ironhide cheerfully, though his optics had followed the newcomers with curiosity and concern. "Nova." His hand went out. "Stop lurkin', darlin', 'n come'ere."
Springer groaned as the little golden femme stepped on him in passing, then watched her sidestep so that her brother could get up and help Rodimus and Oriana 2 with the cleanup. "I think you pulled something loose."
Rodimus took a turn at stepping on him. "Stop being such a wimp."
"What? Wimp! I don't...." He froze and listened as the outer door opened and Arcee's voice came from the hall, then leaped to his feet and started to grab things and put them into their right places. "Wanna get stomped on by the expert. Where does this go?"
"Wimp." Rodimus chortled.
"Did you hear anything about Ironsides?" Springer ignored the taunt, knowing that he'd probably get an answering dig in later when there weren't any guests or sparklings around.
"They just released him from repairs. He's been ordered to rest a couple days, and then he'll be on the next shuttle to Cybertron." Rodimus dug a chiproach out of the couch and looked at it bemusedly as it babbled and tasted his fingers. "Hi, Laserbeak, how's life?"
Springer snorted as his friend flipped the little bug toward him, then set it on an end table next to a collection of toys, not noticing as it was pounced and pummeled by a datasprite. "You're weird."
"Thanks. I try."
Tigatron's hand tightened protectively around his spark-mate's as he looked up at those towering edifices. -So strange... they are taller than the mountains.-
-But beautiful.- Airazor thrilled with the urge to fly among them, then gave a soft beep of surprise and put her free hand to her chest.
"Airazor?" Tigatron stopped, having felt that slight hitch in her awareness.
"He's pressing against my circuits." Her voice and face were full of surprise and wonder. "And trying to talk to me." There was a wordless touch over her com. "Did you feel that?"
"Trying to talk?" Panacea had also stopped, her brow ridges lifting. "Don't worry, he's almost strong enough to transfer. You'll be free of all that poking soon. For now let's just get you home and find you a couch to rest on."
"Alright." The avian femme nodded, sending absent thanks to her mate as he put his arm around her shoulders supportively. It was only a few more strides to the large, low building that they were approaching, and then they were passing the guards at the front door and going down a short, comfortably decorated hallway.
Even before they reached the second door they could hear the noise.
"What the slag?" muttered Panacea irritably. "Oh, they better not be...."
She threw open the door and scowled at the two mechs who lay on the floor not far from it, the green one grimacing as the flame-emblazoned one twisted him up into an intricate wrestling pin. A softly-coloured small femme who closely resembled the flame mech was dancing around the pair and clapping her hands, while another, smaller and brighter mech who also wore flames was watching quietly from a relatively un-trashed corner of the room.
There was a moment's startled silence.
And then Panacea let out a roar. "WHAT THE SLAGGING PIT IS GOING ON HERE? YOU FRAGGING GLITCHES COULDN'T LEAVE THE HOUSE PRESENTABLE FOR ONE SLAGGING JOOR?? I'M GOING TO MELT YOU BOTH DOWN AND USE YOU FOR GARBAGE BARGE PARTS!!!"
Behind her Airazor grimaced with pain and nearly fell as the new spark in her spark compartment jagged with fear and hid behind her own. Tigatron caught her and held her close as he watched the outburst with wide optics, all his instincts urging him to either protect his mate or run.
The green mech and the watcher both flinched; the green one looking as though he feared for his life, but the larger flame mech just got to his feet and walked over to pull the raging femme close and set his lips to hers.
Panacea flailed and socked him upside the head a couple times, but then her fist loosened and she set her hand to the back of his helm in order to prolong the kiss.
"I'm still slagged at you," she informed him as she finally broke it, her optics snapping up at his laughing ones.
"We'll fix it." His grin was boyish and full of love as he set his forehead to hers. "And Springer's really sorry he made the mess. Right, Springer?"
The green mech just gave a wordless growl from where he was laying on his face trying to get his limbs to work as the little femme sat on his back.
"That doesn't improve the first impression that our guests just got," noted Panacea sourly.
"Guests...." Flame mech looked up at Tigatron and Airazor guiltily. "Ah... heh. Sorry about that. Things don't usually look this bad... wait... yes they do. Pansy, are you sure you want to bring them into this nut house?"
She jabbed him in a sensitive spot, then turned back to the newcomers without pulling out of his embrace. "One thing I can guarantee is that things don't usually get that loud. I'm sorry."
Tigatron nodded, unsure of what to say, then looked quickly toward an apparently empty armchair to one side of the larger couch. Was there someone there?
"This is my spark-mate, Rodimus Prime."
The words snapped his optics back to Panacea and he blinked, unconciously snapping to attention as Airazor attempted to do the same. "Rodimus Prime! I... this is an honor."
Rodimus shook his head at him. "At ease. Around here I'm just Roddi. And 'Dad'." He looked down at the little femme, who had given up her seat on the green mech and come to worm her way into he and Panacea's hug. "This is Oriana 2, the guy on the floor is Springer. Over in that corner is Blazer, and that creepy feeling that you're picking up is Ironhide."
"Ah'll creepy feelin' you, kid." A red and black mech hove into sight in the chair, his slightly out of focus faceplate holding a friendly grin.
"Ironhide's a ghost," continued Rodimus, giving the free spark a smirk. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. He's just here to take care of some unfinished business...."
"Dad!" A smaller replica of Ironhide came running from the entrance to an inner hallway and threw himself into the chair with the ghost, who yelped slightly and managed to catch him.
"And there's some of the unfinished business." Rodimus didn't blink. "Starforge. He's got a golden sister around here somewhere too. That'll be Nova. Ironhide's spark-mate, Chromia, lives here too."
Tigatron and Airazor were both looking a little overwhelmed by this point.
"This... feels like a dream," said the winged femme softly. "I wouldn't be surprised now if Optimus Prime walked in."
"Well, we had an Optimus Prima," said Rodimus, letting go of Panacea so that she could properly greet their sparkling. "But you've sort of met a half of her."
"What do you mean?" Tigatron tilted his head, frowning slightly.
The Autobot Prime pointed to his spark-mate.
Both Maximals blinked.
"She was my female creator." Panacea shrugged. "And Ratchet was my male one. I can't say I'm really related to them, though, because I was built a long time before we ever had the CR tanks or the technology to make sparks from existing codes."
"I think I need to lay down." Airazor's warm voice trembled, and she made no protest as Tigatron gently scooped her into his arms.
Panacea's expression darkened with concern as she gently pushed Oriana 2 away. "Alright. Your room's this way."
Rodimus watched her go, then leaped over Springer and started to quickly throw everything back into order. "You're a bad example, old man."
"Nobody said ya hadta try it out right now," retorted Ironhide cheerfully, though his optics had followed the newcomers with curiosity and concern. "Nova." His hand went out. "Stop lurkin', darlin', 'n come'ere."
Springer groaned as the little golden femme stepped on him in passing, then watched her sidestep so that her brother could get up and help Rodimus and Oriana 2 with the cleanup. "I think you pulled something loose."
Rodimus took a turn at stepping on him. "Stop being such a wimp."
"What? Wimp! I don't...." He froze and listened as the outer door opened and Arcee's voice came from the hall, then leaped to his feet and started to grab things and put them into their right places. "Wanna get stomped on by the expert. Where does this go?"
"Wimp." Rodimus chortled.
"Did you hear anything about Ironsides?" Springer ignored the taunt, knowing that he'd probably get an answering dig in later when there weren't any guests or sparklings around.
"They just released him from repairs. He's been ordered to rest a couple days, and then he'll be on the next shuttle to Cybertron." Rodimus dug a chiproach out of the couch and looked at it bemusedly as it babbled and tasted his fingers. "Hi, Laserbeak, how's life?"
Springer snorted as his friend flipped the little bug toward him, then set it on an end table next to a collection of toys, not noticing as it was pounced and pummeled by a datasprite. "You're weird."
"Thanks. I try."