capitalh | no one mourns the wicked

Who: Optimus Prime and AUTOBOTS
Where: The Autobot campground.
When: The evening/night after the dance off.
What: Orion Pax has been restored to his past and future self. Optimus Prime is NOT HAPPY. Also, very very tired.
Warnings: Injuries, intense robot ass devastation. Angry dad. Angry mom.

Optimus Prime, unlike Orion Pax, leaves no time for argument or complaint. After he's finished dealing with Megatron, he orders the Autobots to roll out, provided assistance to injured comrades where necessary. He takes no assistance for himself.

Which is stupid, because after days of starvation and torture and minus the burst of power from the Matrix he was utilizing just before, he is extremely fucked up. It's less obvious that he's on his last legs than it might be with some bots, but he is very injured and trying hard to pretend that he isn't. He drives back to base by his own means, and doesn't speak but to give the occasional order until they are there.

He wants everyone safe and tended to and organized, and he needs to have a talk with just about everyone on the team, and besides that he needs to catch up with everything he hadn't been paying attention to as Orion Pax...he doesn't see how he could possibly take a rest quite yet, there is too much stuff to do, and if he made it this far he can make it a little bit father.

More than tired, though, he is angry. He's angry at Megatron, angry at some of his team, and angry at himself. He doesn't pause to talk to anyone once they get back to camp, and immediately starts to ineffectually try to organize things with as few words as possible.

[Feel free to tag in as someone at any point in this, including later in the night or the next day. He will probably pass out in the medibay within the hour, though. Either that or Ratchet will get him.]

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Magnus wished he could give Optimus a better reply than what he had, but he wasn't one to sugar coat the truth. This was certainly not their best outpost, but he didn't want Optimus to thing they had overlooked anything so basic in his absence.

"Our location has been secure to this point as far as we can determine, based on the fact the Decepticons never made a move to attack us here. However, Starscream was located suspiciously close to base, and we have had to share our location with the local peace keeping organization CONDOR. It may be prudent for us to relocate once everyone has recovered.

Optimus has his hand to his face again, but not out of exasperation or disapproval, but just because he feels light headed. He isn't necessarily concerned about CONDOR from what he understands of it, but...

"Tracks," he says, abruptly. "I left...tracks when I met with him, I am sure. I was not...I did not know to be as careful as was required."

Magnus somehow managed to hold back an exasperated sigh. He didn't want Optimus dwelling on the mistakes he made as Orion Pax, but this was exactly the kind of thing Magnus had been trying to avoid, exactly what he had been worried about allowing Pax free reign.

"I'll have the area scouted as soon as we have an available hand, just to ensure that if there are tracks that we can clear them before the Decepticons have time to discover them. Perhaps I can reach out to CONDOR once more, see if they can assist us with finding a location that will be properly secure."

You and him both, Ultra Magnus. It is hard to resist berating himself for his carelessness, but reasonably that was no fault of his own. Not with what he knows now.

"I think that CONDOR will be an important ally," he says, after a moment. "Focused effort must be put into confirming their reliability, and then finding a workable compromise between us."

"That will be seen to, I assure you, but not know." He's keeping an eye on Optimus now, worried he may run out of energy before they reach Ratchet's ship.

There's a small spark of warmth, a hint that Magnus may be attempting a bit of a joke to try and distract his commander, as he continues.
"I am led to believe the humans do not typically function at night."

He's getting there, but he seems to be holding on...for now. He nods to that, understanding somewhere that it is a joke but mostly just mentally considering how true of a fact that is.

"I have found them to be...a good species," he says and has a brown-out moment where he fumbles down to one knee. He doesn't quite fall forward, though he grunts in vague discomfort and confusion. Whoa there.

"Sir!"
He put down the Forge, kneeling beside Optimus. If it wasn't clear Optimus was running fumes before, this was certainly an undeniable sign. Magnus was worried, he wasn't even trying to hide that anymore. He glanced up, taking stock of how far they were from Ratchet's ship. Not too far.

"Sir, if I may."
Without waiting for a response he did some quick maneuvering, managing to get one of Optimus' arms across his neck (no easy task considering). He wrapped an arm around Optimus' waist and hauled them both to their feet. He had to pause there with a hiss of pain. Standing hunched over like that supporting both of them hurt quite a lot more than he was willing to admit.

With them both standing he started groping for the handle of the Forge, picking it up as close as he could to the head to try and counter balance the weight. Not a perfect solution, but he wasn't about to leave it lying around in the middle of camp after he had just promised Optimus he would keep it safe.

Wow, this was the last thing he wanted. But in some distant manner, he can acknowledge his own limits. Somewhere in the haze of his processor going fuzzy, though, he feels badly for putting more strain on Ultra Magnus when he is already wounded.

He doesn't fuss about it, though. That wouldn't be helping. He allows Ultra Magnus to help him stand, gripping his shoulder when he's in position. He feels like he would eject fuel if it weren't for the fact that he is functionally empty.

"I am sorry for that, Ultra Magnus," he says foggily, just trying to shuffle towards the medibay now. Primus, alright. No more messing around. He needs to stop being stupid about this.

Edited 2014-08-27 22:09 (UTC)

Magnus had to pause to brace himself before the next bit of walking, but even then he kept his eyes on the ship entrance. He didn't want to try and read Optimus' expression right now. He hadn't thought about what it would be like when Optimus regained the Matrix, but this uncertainty, this hesitation, apologizing for needing help, this was so unlike the commander Magnus had come to know over the years. He started walking toward the ship again, and when he replied it was with resigned sincerity.

"Optimus, this isn't the first time I've helped a soldier off the battlefield." And I doubt it will be the last. It was an unfortunately familiar situation, but that familiarity was helping him cope, as dismal as it was to think that.

Ultra Magnus is one of the few bots large enough to assist him like this, and he finds himself thankful. But he feels so off, so agitated, and he worries that these feelings aren't going to stop. He is starting to feel like he's lost his mind.

"I do not feel well," he says, and realizes that that must sound obvious. But he doesn't mean physically. It's hard for him to admit that, though. "It all feels wrong."

"I imagine it couldn't have been easy, taking back the Matrix," he started, struggling with keeping up the conversation and walking them to the medibay, "Especially considering you were already compromised."

Primus, what a mess. Magnus is grateful when they finally reach the ship, leaning heavily against the side to rest. Energon had started beading at weak points in the rushed welding job. Nothing serious but enough to keep him distracted. If only he could help Optimus more, but all those forced conversations he'd had with Orion kept rushing to mind. Absolutely useless.

no one mourns the wicked

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