Protective to a fault

"Yep," he responded, flicking his own tail tot he side in a feline shrug. "A Pred’s a pred. To be honest with ya, I’m not like most of the other Decepticons, either." He gives an amused snort. "Me’n my team weren’t built under what you’d call ordinary circumstances."

He rose from his sitting position, standing and giving a brief stretch. “Sio, how do you guys operate around here? Obviously Predaking’s your leader, but what’s the rest of the squad like?”

'Predaking leader, yes! Others follow him. But....haven't seen many others.'

-Ripclaw made a short whine and her eager posture drooped slightly. Her wings tucked close to her body and she glanced down to her claws.-

'Most still with Shockwave. Asleep. But, Skylynx here! And Skystalker. But haven't seen both in a while.... Worried. But Predaking thinks nothing is wrong, so won't worry too much.'

-She then flicked her head up again and nearly bounced in realization.-

'Oh! Have met others on ship? Pretty and friend? Fixed voice! Couldn't speak. Still can't. But...Comm-link? Pretty put in and fixed! Pretty's friend likes sweets!'

-She moved around Razorclaw, tail swaying, as she glanced down the hall. Her tail wagged after she spotted a small group of Vehicons walking and watched them for a moment.-

'Many of them. Confusing because all look the same. But one is big and fun to wrestle with! Smaller ones scared of us. Not sure why... Also, many fliers like Predacons. Keep trying to look for one with weird voice."

-Ripclaw fidgeted for a moment and sat down again.-

'Oh. Talking a lot. Sorry.'

Razorclaw nods. He definitely agrees with the sentiment of the predacons working together. His team is unruly a best and violent at worst, but they can come together and work as a team when the hunt is on, and Razorclaw does what he can to keep them all together.

Or, well, he did. Before this whole “being sent into the past” snag. Is this universe behind or ahead of his in the timeline? Hmm… he’ll have to find that out.

"Indeed," he responds simply, intending the answer only for her first question, but finding it fits the second one as well. "Yeah. Prredaking and I met before. I’m from another dimension, though. ‘Nother timeline. Gonna be honest, I was kind of surprised to learn there were Predacons in this world at all."

He flicks his tail. “But other’n that, I don’t think we’re a whole lot alike.”

-Ripclaw sat down again and stared at Razorclaw in silence, as if letting the information he had told her sink in. She tilted her head again and folded her wings together.-

'....Oh.'

-She made a soft growl and bowed her head towards the other Predacon in silence. She didn't really understand much of the whole....dimension stuff, even though she's heard about it a few times.-

'But...still Predacons?'

-She stood up again and approached Razorclaw with a short wag to her tail and stared at him.-

'Don't have to be alike.'

autobothunter

Meeting up with someone new

autobothunter

It didn’t really matter what they shared number wise. Not like they were going to hurt them or anything. He pats Ripclaw’s helm though.

Predaking looks Skyqyakes way. “There’s four of us so far that have turned up. Ripclaw, Skystalker and Skylyynx, the two of them look exactly alike just different paint jobs, and myself.” That was all that had turned up so far as far as he knew. “The two other’s are probably stalking around being quiet, like always. Yet, they’ve been outnormously quiet. Maybe they went missing,” he shrugs a bit.

giant-green-moth

Sleeping? he thinks. Great, I’ll have to question Shockwave about that too.

He reaches for his high grade and takes a swallow as Predaking speaks. “It happens, unfortunately,” he says. “I assume you are aware of these tears that have been occurring? It is why I questioned your numbers. These tears make it far too easy to enter and leave the Nemesis without anyone knowing, a large breach in our security.”

He nods to Predaking. “Check to make sure they’re onboard soon, if you will. I’ll also probably need to meet up with them soon. It won’t do to have people on the ship I haven’t met with.”

#autobothunter #giant green moth

-Ripclaw's tail lightly twitches after Predaking pats her head and she continues to lean against Predaking. She then looks back towards Skyquake and watches the flier. She wasn't sure how to feel about him, especially since he was asking a lot of questions about the other Predacons.-

'Predaking...'

-Ripclaw made a soft sound and glanced back up to the other Predacon.-

Razorclaw remains where he is, his posture still and stoic, regarding the wriggling and excited predacon before him with grave feline dignity. “Rrripclaw, then. And I am verrry strong.” This is said simply, as a statement of fact rather than a boast. Razorclaw is the leader of a deadly gestalt team. He’s not to be trifled with, and he knows it.

"Wrestle? No, not now." He looks down at her with a slightly puzzled air. She’s acting very differently than the predacons he is used to dealing with. "You serve Predaking, correct?"

-Ripclaw stops her wiggling and slowly rolls back over. She moves from a laying position back into a sitting one and stares back at Razorclaw, mimicking his posture.-

'Guess so. But prefer to think of Predaking and other Predacons as group. Must look out for each other.'

-She then slowly stands up on all fours and move closer and closer to Razorclaw, head raised in a curious gesture. She lowers her head and softly sniffs at the other Predacon.-

'Know Predaking?'

-Ripclaw asks and tilts her head as she stares at him.-

Ripclaw breaks the tension in the air by sitting, and Razorclaw follows suit. It would be an undoubtedly odd sight for anyone passing through the hallway: two bestial mechs, of startlingly different form and aesthetic, sitting on their haunches and staring at one another.

Razorclaw was not off-put by her simplistic greeting, as his own team was often short with him. “Rrrazorclaw. Not from around here. Yourrr leader knows me.” He regarded her with a sense of patient alertness. “Hearrrd the preds from this world arrre very different than mine.”

-Ripclaw stared at him and slowly flicked her tail back and forth.-

'Oh!'

-She then makes a friendlier gesture and rolls onto her back. She squirms closer to Razorclaw and wags her tail at him, before pointing the tip at herself for emphasis.-

'Ripclaw!'

-The Predacon stares up at him and watches him. He said that he was a Predacon too, so that was good enough for Ripclaw.-

'Look strong. ...Should wrestle!'

Razorclaw has to give it to the mechs from this universe: they sure know how to pull off the whole “dark and brooding fortress of evil” architecture. Hmm—does shipbuilding count as architecture? There doesn’t seem to be any Constructicons around to ask, so I’ll just assume yes.

For the most part, the predacon has been keeping to himself since he arrived. He politely answers comms when they come to him, and will attend any summons, but otherwise he simply stays out of the way. One might think this is the result of laziness, but Razorclaw is just getting a feel for the dynamics of the ship. It’s so different, so very, vastly different than what he’s used to.

They have a veritable army of drones, for one thing. Razorclaw’s home timeline is decidedly thin on Decepticons. He doesn’t recognize half of the mechs here, and from what he’s learned from reading (and he has been doing a lot of that since he got here; anyone visiting his temporary quarters will stumble upon the amusing sight of a lion casually sprawled before a row of datapads) the history of this universe’s Cybertron is almost completely different than that of his own.

It’s a lot to take in. He’s not actively including Onslaught in his investigations, but he’s willing to share what he’s learned if the Combaticons’ leader can bring himself to ask. He knows very well what kind of plots and schemes Onslaught is likely trying to cook up, but keeping him in the dark will do neither of them any favors.

Razorclaw had been making his way down one of the main corridors in the Nemesis, mainly just for the exercise. His joints have a tendency to lock up if he lies in one place for too long and… well, quite frankly, Razorclaw tends to do just that.

He pauses, one paw raised, as an unusual scent crosses his olfactory sensors. A predacon has been through here recently, but not Predaking. He’s aware that there are others on the ship, but he hasn’t met them yet, and is frankly quite curious as to what other predacons from this universe are like. He considers tracking the scent, but decides against it. The other predacon might be busy, and it would be better to err on the side of not being a nuisance.

The decision, as it turns out, is made for him. When he veers down a side passage he very nearly bumps into her, managing to skid to a stop before they collide. He blinks, caught off-guard, and simply stares for a moment.

Razorclaw doesn’t rise from his half-crouched position when he finally speaks, tail lashing slowly. “Hey.”

-Ripclaw had been tracking the odd scent, intrigued by who it could belong to. It wasn't familiar to her. She stalked as quietly as she could, but still seemed to be caught. After all, she nearly bumped into the strange scent's owner and backed away, tail raised in alert.-

'....Who?'

-She blinked and slowly moved closer again, caught off guard by how different he looked from Predaking or herself.-

'Predacon?'

-Slowly, she slinked closer, tail raised high in alert. She mimics his posture and stays in a very similar half-crouched position, flicking her tail back and forth. After a short time, she moves into a sitting position and stares back at him.-

'Predacon!'

Almost.

-He was careful with the remaining length - he wasn’t too sure what predacon etiquette was regarding the aft region, but if it was anything like with more typical mechs, the ‘wrong’ touch could give the wrong impression. Not that that usually stopped the medic with some of his patients, but Ripclaw wasn’t exactly his type in terms of proportions …

… and you’re all set!

-He proclaims at last, pulling away after wiping off the last bit of wax into a shine.

Now just try and avoid getting into too many scuffles - ideally this should last you a week, if not longer~

-With that, Knock Out begins putting away all items.

-Ripclaw quickly jumped up eagerly after hearing Pretty and looked her armor up and down. She even turned a few times in place to glance at the base of her tail before she clapped.-

'Yay!'

-Her tail swayed happily as she stepped after Pretty and picked him up in gentle hug.-

'Thanks Pretty!'

-She innocently rubbed her face against his for a short moment, in an affectionate gesture. She slowly placed Pretty back down and resumed admiring how shiny her armor was now.-

'Almost as pretty as you.'

-She commented and flexed her claws a few time. After a moment, she blinked and frowned, bringing one arm up to her face.-

'...What if Grimlock doesn't want to speak again?'

… I see.

-Most mechs didn’t have the clearest memories of their forging or the immediate moments that followed - for most it was a general blur of ‘this and that’. It was, after all, hard to form coherent memories. A new processor just come into being was far too engrossed in the data-overload of simply experiencing life for the first time that there was little room for anything else.

That doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary - well, some parts of it, maybe. But then again, you weren’t forged by any conventional means, either.

-He switches to the neglected side of the trunk of Ripclaw’s tail, polishing it out.

-Ripclaw gazes down at her armor and makes a very happy expression at seeing how shiny it was.-

'Ahhhhhhh.'

-She admires how pretty her armor was turning out to be and clapped her claws together again.-

'Almost done?'

-Ripclaw asks curiously and glances over her shoulder to Pretty, lifting her tail slowly to allow easier access to the underside of her tail.-

I was forged a racer - as you can obviously tell by the name, they race~

-He explains, pulling the buffer away a moment, to make sure the light bounced off each green plate in the same manner. Satisfied, he moves a bit ways back, hiding more behind Ripclaw’s field of vision as he moves up her tail.

I didn’t know Breakdown then, no - that came much later, after I left the circuit. There was just too much going on, that I had to start prioritizing … Brewing civil war and all~

-Ripclaw just nods as Pretty speaks and stares at wall of the fixing room across from her.-

'Oh. Don't remember much from...being forged?'

-She glances down to her claws and flexes them for a short time, tilting her head as she stares down at them.-

'But, remember some things...Happened before being forged. Other Predacons! Many of them. But, also was weird. Wasn't really there. Or Predaking. Just watching.'

-She twiddles her claws together and moves her gaze down at the ground.-

Mhmm~

-He hums idly, only half-listening as he works his way down the lengthy collection of plates. Really, self-maintenance was instinct - every Cybertronian knew how to clean himself (even if a certain few preferred not to bother with the ritual and instead wallow in their own filth). This, the whole “shinying” up, was merely an exaggerration of that.

I learned a few tricks from my benchworkers, back on Cybertron - racers are supposed to look ‘pretty’, but just because you have mechs assigned to keep you that way doesn’t mean they always know what works best, ensemble-wise. I figured I’d do both myself and them a favor by having them teach me in my free time. Less work for them, more fun for me.

'Racers?'

-Ripclaw makes a curious send as she listens to Pretty's story and shifts into a more lax sitting position. She brings her claws together and rests her chin on top of her arms as she watches Pretty.-

'Knew Pretty's friend then?'

-She glanced around again and began to lightly sniff the fixing room. Pretty's friend was easy to smell here. However, after a moment, she stops and glances back to Pretty.-

-He gave Ripclaw a full klik to change her mind, before accepting the gesture and taking her tail in hand. Just to be sure, he kept the tip aimed at her, and not at himself.

In case you haven’t figured it out, I figure your protocols will at least prevent you from hurting yourself~

-He hums, looking over the way the plates folded over one another on the flexible appendage. It would be interesting to buff, that was for sure.

It will certainly compliment the rest of your waxed plating so far, that’s fore sure.

-Picking up the buffer, he begins to shine the dull teal to a sparkling sheen.

-Ripclaw silently observes Pretty as he works on her tail. She blinks and crosses her arms together as she watches.-

'Takes...time. Pretty patient.'

-She glances from her own shiny armor to Pretty's and tilts her head.-

'How did Pretty learn this?'

-Ripclaw asks after a moment, interested in learning more from Pretty.-

-Oh? Oh …. oh, right. He rolls his optics; it was a valid concern, but … really?

It’s your tail - you can’t tell me you haven’t bothered to learn how to wield it after that … ‘unfortunate’ incident.

-He shrugged it off - really, the damage was done, and even then, it wasn’t entirely beyond repair. Well … it was now, but that was due to Skyquake’s intervention and Breakdown’s own dim-witted eagerness to compete in ‘sport’ - the fault had entirely shifted over from the Predacon.

… well?

-He would move on without pushing her, if she was that insistent.

-Ripclaw tapped her claws together in silence as Pretty questioned her over her control over her tail and frowned.-

'... Um. No.'

-But as he kept staring at her, she fidgeted again and hesitantly moved her tail towards Pretty. She didn't move her gaze off of her tail as she silently nodded to Pretty.-

'Ok.'