#* tears

[battlexworned]

" You're telling me you've never been to Disney land? Not even once? " Press X to doubt. Family vacation lets go/j

" Nope, I don't even know what the hell it is. Judgin' by how excited Ignite got tho', I bet it's somethin' to entertain. "

The way she asked about it piqued his curiosity. Oh there's no way Cherr is gonna try to change that. He's gonna get his aft dragged is he?

[hcmteam]

When the night was full of terror,

And your eyes were filled with tears.

When you had not touched me yet,

Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[battlexworned]

He was trying to sleep.

[battlexworned]

“ Starscream fragged who now? “

[battlexworned]

📼

Few days have passed since his forging. Because of his many qualities revealed and acquisition of an alternate mode in such short notice, the young spark was given the name of Ironhide. A cybertronian who’s steel was impeccable, capable of challenging a dozen warriors. He was the embodiment of a fortress, strong and powerful who’s walls can never be breached.

His mentor, Procyon, was impressed by his development. As a result, he wasted no time to mold Ironhide further. He sought to keep Ironhide secluded in his ship, free from all distractions or bad influences. He will train the young spark as the perfect soldier. A commander at his side, someone who can be far greater. Far greater than her.

Inside Procyon’s ship, the two were down the halls walking towards the training room. Ironhide was slowly falling behind, distracting himself by the halls’ decor. Despite his little achievements, he has yet to remove his protoform colors. His bright optics scanned the ambiance around him, inspecting every single detail, every corridor- and every window.

Like any sparkling, Ironhide was bound to loose himself in curiosity. And it happened every time he caught the sight of a window. To him, they were impenetrable portals who showcased the outside world. The outside world being the dazzling, violet city of Praxus.

This time it was no different, Ironhide’s frame moved in instinct, slowly approaching the window and placed a servo on the glass; his spark overflowed with desires, one in particular, was to explore that very city beneath the ship. To see what it had in store, what kind of people it had, to—

“ Ironhide, you are diverted, again. “

Procyon’s helm didn’t need to move in order to know that Ironhide was moving astray. All he needed to do was firm his tone and the young spark would listen.

“ …oh. “

Ironhide wasn’t the type to talk, at least not yet. So all he could manage to let out from his vocalizer were simple phrases or short sentences. Which was fine for Procyon, soldiers are only worth for their strength and loyalty, not speech.

The young spark had let go of the window, soon after sprinting for a short second to catch up with his mentor. However, despite being away from the portal of glass, Ironhide’s curiosity still remained.

“ Praxus. When can we go? “

“ When your training is complete, Ironhide. “

“ …too long. “

“ Ah, little lights, so impatient. Don’t let that fester in your processor, young one. Good soldiers move forward, they’re not swayed by pointless pleasures. “

Ironhide’s expression formed a frown, that answer didn’t satisfy him in the slightest. Procyon’s rule didn’t made sense at all. He had seen plenty of soldiers under Procyon’s command leave the ship and come back. If they can do that, why couldn’t he? What is it about pointless pleasures?

They were near their destination, but Ironhide came to a halt once more when his optics caught a mural on the hall’s walls. The moment he saw it, his spark shook.

The mural was that of an individual, one who Ironhide has never seen before. An individual of black, red and gold color scheme. They had two pairs of arms who’s servos held weapons and other tools Ironhide failed to recognize or understand. They seemed like someone powerful, someone of great authority, someone- of comfort?

Ironhide wasn’t sure, but those colors, the aura the mural emanated; it was all strangely familiar.

Procyon stopped once he felt the same occurrence, and this time he turned his helm to see just what Ironhide was distracted about again— …oh.

“ who this? “

Of course the young one had asked, Procyon’s 3 optics shined bright with hidden frustration. However, with a few seconds of clarity, he simply replied as he approached Ironhide. His servo placed on the young’s spark’s shoulder.

“ …nobody, Ironhide. Just a mere character. “

“ but- “

Ironhide’s question will never come to exist, as Procyon used the servo he moved to urge the young spark to follow and stay by his side at all times, now. Which was both an unexpected and a… uncomfortable action for Ironhide. Both cybertronians learned something new today:

For Ironhide’s case, he learned that there will be truths hiding away from him, and that Procyon was willing to partake in that obstruct for- whatever reason.

As for Procyon, he was reminded to remove every speck of the filth. Including that mural.