maskormenacelogs | It's time we had the talk.

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It's time we had the talk.

WHO: Metalhawk and Bumblebee
WHERE: Residence #016, Bumblebee's room.
WHEN: June 24th
WHAT: Metalhawk and Bumblebee were about to have a talk back on Cybertron about each other, but they both died. That's a bit of a downer. So they're having it here!
WARNINGS: Nothing that I know of

To say Metalhawk was apprehensive about this was like saying the sky had at least 1% nitrogen content. After all, relations with the Autobots back home had been lukewarm at best, especially with the likes of Prowl. But recent events had changed that, both on Cybertron and here, and it was definitely something that couldn't go unsaid anymore. Metalhawk owed Bumblebee an explanation, and vise versa.

The only thing that stopped them before was...death. And since they'd been given a second chance here, it only seemed fair.

He stands outside the door to the residence, arm held up to knock, biting his lip. He was never nervous--not like this. But it takes a few moments before the knock sounds, not even realizing he'd done it before the hand drops to his side.

They both need this, he tells himself, waiting patiently for the door to open.

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On the other side of things, Bumblebee isn't as nervous. There is an element of it, sure, but ultimately it's just Metalhawk and himself. He had promised the other that they would talk and they never had the chance to. To be fair, their relationship here is already better than it ever has been. That gives him some hope that maybe they can actually be something closer to friends this time around - that maybe they can really work together instead of against each other like they had been back on Cybertron.

The knock sounds and Bee finds that he had been tapping his finger against the table. He winces as he rises to get the door. Something is really on Metalhawk's mind and Bumblebee has no idea what it is. It's evident in the way that Metalhawk looks sometimes and in how his voice changes. All of his years as an espionage agent haven't made him blind to that sort of thing.

Answering the door comes easy as does the smile on his face. Bumblebee opens the door wider, allowing Metalhawk access. "We're going to have to teach you about doorbells."

Metalhawk would agree on the relationship thing. When the war and the pressing issue of the state of Cybertron was taken out of the equation, he found himself actually enjoying Bumblebee's company. They ate lunch together, they had talks about Heropa and interesting things they'd found out on their own.

To be honest, it was almost friendship. Not that Metalhawk would admit to it. The wait at the door's causes him to adjust himself, personally fixing his coat as he waits, eyes widening when the door eventually opens.

Seeing Bumblebee there.

The statement, however, catches him off guard.

"Door...bell?"

He casually points to the fixture on next to the door. "That button there. When you press it, it chimes throughout the home and lets people know that someone is at the door."

It's not the only problem Bumblebee sees either. Metalhawk has been wearing the same thing every day. For a race that doesn't really HAVE silly things like clothing, he isn't surprised by the fact that the other Cybertronian hasn't picked up that humans do change. Daily. Take Bee for instance. At the moment he's wearing shorts and a yellow tank with his hair pulled back. Yes, he finally figured out how to do that with much difficulty. He also has some appropriate attire for the job he takes on as a representative too. Little details are super important.

"We're also going to have to take you shopping at some point, bird brain," he chuckles, shaking his head. "Humans don't wear the same thing every day, you know."

This is also kind of distracting them from the conversation they are supposed to be having. It's a bad delay tactic.

As Bumblebee explains, his gaze understandably follows that arm to the button, before slowly drifting back to the 'woman' himself. And then back to the button. There's soft temptation as he lifts a finger up, as if going to press it--only when Bee's second statement pops up. And he really takes notice. Bumblebee is wearing...considerably less than what he used to be.

"I didn't realize...," It was then sinking in that humans had so many rules when it came to the little details. Different clothes, different foods (don't even get him started on that one), different ways of knocking. But he nods, a soft smile spreading. "Whenever we can, then. If I have to be human, I'd like to play the part well."

But right, he'd come here for a reason, didn't he...

"Now, about this whole meetup."

"Oh we'll never play the part well," Bee replies with a wink, pulling Metalhawk inside. "But we can be passable."

Before the other Cybertronian can really start to talk about what they needed to, Bumblebee is shooing Metalhawk to his room. It's not great, but passable. Honestly they have more here than what they ever had while trying to rebuild Cybertron. It's not as if his housemates are all that disruptive... Bumblebee just realizes that this is a very important conversation and a very private one at that.

Now the shorter of the two takes a seat on the bed and waves the other to the chair at the desk. It's super informal and that might make Metalhawk a little uncomfortable, but it is what it is.

"All right. Now we can talk."

"I'll accept passable." He smiles, looking almost...warmly at the Autobot. Before the smaller one is shoving him in. A part of him leans back, almost resisting it. Out of surprise, mostly. But seeing as he's just a giant stick of a woman, he's in the room in no time.

There's a moment of Metalhawk looking around, just getting a glimpse at Bumblebee's belongings before sitting down. Rigidly.

"Right."

His hands press against his knees, looking down a moment.

"I feel like after everything that's happened...this talk was needed. About the note we left off on."

Bumblebee doesn't have much, really. There's nothing of himself in that space yet. It's something he's been meaning to do, but it's so hard to think of things as yours when everything you've ever owned has been lost to the war. Hell, being in a war for so long makes it difficult to adjust to worrying about domestic things like redecorating and regaining possessions.

One thing he does have, that Metalhawk may take note of, is a little shelf on the wall. There are presently two car models resting there - both yellow and only one has black stripes on it.

He folds his arms as he watches the other sit down. The first thought that the Autobot has is that Metalhawk really needs to learn how to relax. It's like the guy needs to not have something crammed up his tailpipe at all times, you know? However, that passes as the conversation really begins. Slowly, though... Bumblebee lifts his hand as if to stop Metalhawk.

"It probably is. I don't know what you wanted to say, Metalhawk, but there's something I need to say."

Bumblebee then sighs, unfolding those arms and starts to rub at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. You were right on a lot of things and I should have listened to you. I was so caught up in a battle between Autobots and Decepticons that really no longer existed that I kind of forgot the real reason that we were back on Cybertron. The Unaligned were mad at us - hated us. I can't really blame them either. Instead of trying to meet them where they were at, I acted just like the Senate and the former Primes did and that I regret even now."

Edited 2014-06-27 05:33 (UTC)

Relaxing is one of the many things Metalhawk needs to learn. He's spent so much of the war trying to be stoic about it, to shield himself from anything that might draw him back into it, that he forgot how to feel for anything entirely. It's a rough path, and one he certainly can't do alone. His fists clench and unclench, and just as he's about to speak--once the words pop into his head--he lifts it up, only to be shushed.

And now, it was his turn to listen.

Listen he does, and it's something that he truly never expected to come out of the Autobot's mouth. An apology. Bumblebee could have stopped right there and Metalhawk would have accepted it. But there's reasons, there's admissions, and most of all, he could tell it came straight from Bee's proverbial spark. He straightens up more, making sure to give him his undivided attention as he speaks.

The respect swelling in his chest practically soars, eyes closing. And then, for a moment, Metalhawk smiled--as if something brought him peace for just a second.

"You always did have to speak first, didn't you."

Blue eyes practically glow at him, his lips glued in that smile.

"Thank you, Bumblebee. You're the first Autobot to ever say that. And it'll be the one I remember."

"Of course I did, unless you wanted to do age before beauty," Bumblebee replies, a little smug look on his face. He is well aware that his form is rather pleasing, but chances are he would have said that even if this conversation had taken place in their original bodies.

That being said, he settles. Bee is prepared for what Metalhawk has to say now, only nodding at the smile. He does have to look away a little, if only because seeing Metalhawk's expression is nearly transfixing. The guy doesn't really know how to smile, but Metalhawk's been doing a lot of that recently. Bee is almost tempted to take a picture of the moment, to document the occasion and mark it on the calender.

"Er... You wanted to say something?"

If his smile had been pointed out, it would have disappeared as quickly as it'd came. So really, being quiet about it is probably the better choice anyway. His hands fiddle with his gloves, partially because he's still getting used to them, and partially because of his nervousness.

"I wanted to apologize to you as well, Bumblebee. Back on Cybertron, we came back to see our planet a shadow of what it once was. We were angry, and we blamed you all. Granted, there was blame to be shared among you"--he holds up a hand, as if to quiet anything Bumblebee might say--"but we've been less than accomodating as well. We might not have destroyed it, but we certainly could help with repairing."

A pause, before he gets into the more personal part of this.

"I didn't mean the things I said to you. That your actions meant nothing. Like before, I was angry at the Autobots, and while I may have meant it at the time, I had a lot to experience before I had any right making that assumption about you. You made mistakes--and while I'm trying my hardest to forgive you for them, I have to ask for yours as well.

To give me time."

Metalhawk raising his hand is a good thing. Bumblebee certainly could have made a comment. The Autobots hadn't purely been at fault here. Megatron would have forced everyone under his thumb. They had merely fought back so that they wouldn't replace a group of dictators for one single one. Before Optimus, the Primes certainly hadn't helped either. Yet it had been Bumblebee that had faced the wrath of the people who hadn't even cared enough about their homes to protect them or their own neighbors. That's why Bumblebee gets upset over it. He can take the blame for a lot of things - his poor leadership skills and the choices he's made.

What he refuses to do is accept the blame for ruining a planet that none of those Unaligned had deemed fit to try to protect. So yes, he continues to listen, but still rather disgruntled about the entire thing. No, they hadn't destroyed it, but they let it happen. Instead of helping with everything, they had wanted to be pampered and screamed when things hadn't run smoothly from the get go.

Still, he listens. Of course Metalhawk has to be stubborn. It's a rather passive apology and he snorts. "That's not how it works. You either forgive and move on or don't and hold onto that grudge."

It's rather ironic. Bumblebee had only been at each other's throats for political and philosophical reasons for a few months. Megatron? That had been millions of years with direction confrontations. Yet Bumblebee could put all that aside and forgive the stupid revolutionary turned tired, but Metalhawk couldn't even just move on even though he had just admitted that not everything that happened had been Bee's doing. Said Autobot rolls his eyes.

"I'm not going to strive to earn your high and mighty forgiveness, Metalhawk. That's not what I'm using my second chance for. It's done. It's over and I'm going to keep moving forward."

Maybe it's what Bumblebee said, or rather how he says it that gets Metalhawk's attention. A strange look on his face, to be sure, like...he's not even looking at the same Bumblebee anymore. The strength was there, sure. Bumblebee had always been strong, even if Metalhawk wouldn't admit it. No...here he was actually showing those qualities he'd needed all along.

It spoke to him right there. And his arms fold in on themselves. His face takes on a new expression, not even being able to look the Autobot in the eye. The way he bites his lip, the eyebrows lower, and the lack of direct eye contact...it's like Metalhawk's suddenly feeling...ashamed. And to be honest, it wasn't that far from the truth. Had he really resented both sides long enough that he couldn't even give a proper apology anymore? That was scary to think about. As if avoiding becoming one monster made him...something else entirely. It's a long time before he speaks again, clearing his throat. "I think it's about time I followed suit."

A good start.

"My real apology is this." He stands up, gaze testing the waters by taking small glances before fixating on him. "I'm sorry, Bumblebee. I knew you were trying your best, but I...the unaligned--we resented you all for what you did to our world. It happened, and we accept blame in what we did. And even now, after Starscream killed me and I received a second chance at life, I'm still fighting them. And with a friend.

Our feelings are bitter, but lashing out at each other...won't solve anything."

And with that, he holds his hand out.

Even though Metalhawk can't look at Bumblebee, the reverse isn't true. Bee's eyes are glued to the other, gauging reactions. It isn't really his intention to make the Unaligned feel bad, but Bumblebee is passed carrying if that is a thing that happens as a result of facing the harsh truth. There is a small part of him that believes that Metalhawk should be ashamed. Here he had wanted the Autobots and Decepticons to set aside their differences and make immediate peace between them and yet couldn't find it within his spark to forgive anyone himself.

"So what was that before? A fake apology?" Bumblebee huffs, though there's no malice behind it. It's actually half joking, fairly amused that somehow Metalhawk is coming around and being less of an ass about it. This is an unexpected turn and Bee hopes, he really does, that it will continue.

He looks at the offered hand and then back to Metalhawk. This might work out after all, despite his trepidation and high hopes. Bumblebee takes it, giving a little shake. "So glad you can get off of your horse to see it."

Hey, Bumblebee is snarky and that's something that isn't going to change.

A lot of it had been anger at seeing the loss of life, another being that neither side could relinquish their factions. To him, as long as those symbols were there, the divide would be too. Autobots became synonymous with war, as did Decepticons. But Metalhawk was realizing that he was being a negative force in all of this too. He was looking at factions just as much as either faction did.

And that's what has to change.

"A rough draft, you know I'm not exactly adept at this," a humble joke escapes his lips as he straightened himself up. He's trying, at least, to be something other than a political billboard spouting out complaints. He owed Bumblebee enough to try.

He feels that hand being taken and closes his longer fingers around it, the grip now firm. It's not something he can really express right now, but he's happy. Relieved. And most of all, like a burden's been lifted, if only for awhile until Cybertron becomes an issue again. That mouth goes from a smirk to a little pout, eyebrow perking.

"Are you saying I'm not humble?"

Friends. That's what Bee called them, right? Maybe...maybe this could work out.

"Not adept at feeling much beyond contempt?" he replies with an amused huff this time. "Already knew that. You're making a lot of progress right here."

One of these days Bumblebee will be a little less sassy. Today is not that day and, unfortunately, it's how he deals with tense situations. Somehow he makes an attempt to deflate it, just a little. What ends up coming out are little comments like this. He might have to curb that until Metalhawk finally understands this about him.

Too bad that instead, the Autobot is laughing a bit at that expression. Bumblebee is seeing enough of it lately to be less surprised about it. Shame that pout is still too funny. Bee waves Metalhawk off, dismissive. "It's not that. You can be... But not always."

As much as the sass can be a hassle to deal with, it's not something Metalhawk's particularly against--it's familiar, but not in the way that they argued back home. There's no feelings being hurt (not really), and push doesn't come to shove. He can appreciate it, at the very least.

Even if it's not his battleground.

That hand moves from the other's, gently pushing the shoulder of the other woman. There, he was trying to be fun and playful. Well, glad that's all spent up! Now he can go back to being minimally amused.

"Your confidence is reassuring."

"I have my moments where it pulls through," he grins, appreciating the effort.

Bumblebee then stands up, stretching just a little. A lot of the tension that had been between them has fizzled out. Metalhawk is going to try to keep a bit more of an open might and soften his spark ( and boy does the guy really need to learn to not be serious all the time ). It's progress, even if only slight. These are good first steps and Bumblebee feels pretty good about this. About all of it.

"There's obviously only one way he can celebrate," Bee states, turning to Metalhawk again. "Ice cream."

Humans have really good sweets and Bumblebee may be developing a little bit of a sweet tooth.

He could feel the lighter atmosphere that came with it too. The tension drifted out, and what was weighing so heavily on Metalhawks shoulders now seemed lighter than air. It was hard not to be a tad optimistic about it. As Bumblebee gets up, he walks over to the bed, finding it more...casual(?) to sit there as his eyes follow the yellow bot.

Eyebrow perking up at the food in question.

"Ice cream?"

He knew what ice was...but..

"This is going to be a real treat for you then!" Just one sec."

First he's going to change real quick. Metalhawk will just have to be patient until Bumblebee comes out from the restroom. At least the Autobot is quick about it, coming out with a hair tie dangling in his mouth as he starts to meander around the room. Bumblebee is already grabbing things that he needs. Money and hey look at that... Buy one get one free coupon. Definitely going to come in handy.

As soon as he's ready, Bee reaches for Metalhawk to yank the other Cybertronian up. "Up up up, Birdy. Time to go."

It all happened so quickly. As if he couldn't keep his eye on bee for very long before he's dashing to get ready. The bird sits there, palms pressed against his legs(at rest, sadly...), looking at the little figurines Bumblebee had while he waits.

But when he comes out, he feels himself yanked to his feet (it's not all that hard to tug on him, though. For someone so tall, he's fairly easy to push around). "We're going to go...get the ice cream?"

An honest inquiry, if anything. This whole situation's very new to him.

It's because Metalhawk's human body is apparently a stick. Bee kind of wants to make a comment about putting more meat on those bones, but that might be in bad taste..

"Yes, birdy," he grins, tugging more. "We're going to get ice cream now and you're going to love it. I promise."

Actually, he can't promise that. Metalhawk probably drinks his energon sour or something like that. There has to be a reason the Neutral's face is stuck like it is ninety-nine percent of the time. At least Bee knows that he will enjoy the sweet treat, even as he's practically shoving the taller one out the door.

Hey, he didn't ask for this body, and to be honest? It fits him rather nicely. You should see all the stuff he can get off high shelves, thank you very much. And swear, one wrong move with the 'm' word...

"...Well, alright. I'm trusting you, Bumblebee."

An amused look spreads across his face as Bee shoves him, causing those long legs to practically trip over themselves out the door.

"Bee! I can walk just fine on my own...!"

"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say," he chuckles. "And you're too slow."

It's going to be a little bit of a walk to any places that serve ice cream. At least they're going to have plenty of time to talk and maybe have conversations that friends should have. ...That might be stretching it just a little bit. In reality it's probably going to be a long, awkward walk. Metalhawk still is too stiff and formal for Bee's liking.

This is the start of how he is going to change that.

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It's time we had the talk.

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