Beeps and Buzzes

⚔️ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5

　　　

One long, stressful discussion later where Bee wound up vowing - vowing - to bring Steven ‘Spike’ Witwicky under his guardianship; your small team landed upon a long beachfront after taking an eyeful of those infamous White Cliffs of Dover. Weren't exactly sure how nobody noticed this strange plane landing just a short stretch past a famous landmark… but that alongside many other things went unquestioned.

Grassy hills and woodland came next on this road trip, basking on the lingering British fog before Cogman announced that they broached his masters private estate and you needn't worry about getting spotted. Specifically Bumblebee who was, out of all of you, taking most of Cogman criticisms by the chin. He was either driving too fast or too slow, ruining precious habitat or being noisy - Bee pretty much ejected the Headchanger from the passenger's seat in his frustration.

Needless to say you were happy to see the crux of this expansive estate. Surprised to find it wasn't a stately manor house, rather a large castle complete with a moat and several hundred years of weathering!

“If he expects me to bow, he's gonna be disappointed” you murmured just loud enough for Cade to hear, earning a miffed look as the man had yet to tear his gaze away from the looming structure ahead.

Though, who could blame him.

Transformers and Castles didn't exactly strike you as a complementary pairing either, both so far removed from one another's genre. Although, there was the whole Dinobots situation… Alchemist used magic (no better way to describe what he did, honestly) and had reported several others capable of performing such a feat.

Okay. So maybe this wasn't so far-fetched. Still incredibly unusual, though.

“Fucking –” you barked, stumbling over your own shoe from surprise. Hardly the type of greeting you'd been expecting, nonetheless one you were used to. Just not by old British tanks older than your grandparents.

Bits and pieces fell off a Cybertronian sporting armour reminiscent of World War One generals. Remarkably similar to Jetfire who himself was very old. Drawing upon first hand experience, recalling how scatterbrained that old Mech was, this Tank was probably suffering with their age. Gradually losing mental prowess, clinging onto whatever he could in a stranglehold. Something that just so happened to be transforming and firing off missiles upon trespassers.

Disheartening, in a way. Didn't mean you felt any less bitter about the unscheduled reflex test.

“What the hell!” blipped through Bees radio, closest to that blast and certainly displeased by it. This happened to be the only response to Sir Burton (and his dogs) amicable greeting.

Cogman approached, begrudgingly taking the leash from Sir Burton's care, looking at the old lumbering hound with a hint of bitterness “The Constable is a complete knucklehead” introducing the pitiful Transformer who'd just begun backing away from the scene out of shame.

“I'm so sorry about that,” Sir Burton continued, peering back, “but - um - you see, he still thinks it's the year 1918 or 1914 or something like that. World War One. Battle of the Marm, Battle of the Son. Battle of the Marm, Battle of Passion Bay Trenches and mud and Death and trenches and all that gore. Terribly sad. Long way to Tipperary, it's a long way to go. Yeah, but it's - um - it's terrible, I mean it's so sad but I mean it's late onset… Robot Dementia. It's not at all pretty”

Then as you do after foreclosing a robot's medical history to partial strangers, Sir Burton stuck a mahogany pipe between his lips and resumed smoking. Otherwise unbothered by the conjoined looks of apprehension possessed by yourself and Cade.