Cybertron has been revived, but Predaking enjoys the planet he knew as Earth as well. There were far more creatures than he could count, and most were as connected to nature as him. Instinct ruled them, though this beast was far more civilized and c...
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Predaking was far past angry, he was furious. Not only did Tapper allow (Y/D) to run off on her own, not just in a storm, but an acid storm, the Autobots refused to let him see her. They claimed Knockout was watching her, but he didn't trust the egotistical medic as far as he could throw him, which was most likely halfway across the galaxy.
"I haven't told anyone else, neither has Smokescreen or Knockout," Bumblebee stated, arms crossed as he stared up at the Predacon king, "Now, tell us what's going on. Clearly you have not been as transparent as you have so claimed."
The beast growled, unwilling to speak until he saw the femmeling. He had made this condition earlier, but they refused to listen. Whether they liked it or not, he was going to see his young charge, or they would be told nothing.
"Predaking this is idiotic and irresponsible," Bumblebee tried to reason with him, but the bigger bot remained silent in his fury. "Fine, you can see the femme, but we will not be putting her back in your custody."
"That was all I asked," the mech huffed, tired of their bull-helmed ways and refusal to listen. They heard more than he spoke, false assumptions, because of their stereotyping.
He was led to a far room in a practically unused hallway, having to duck under the door by the slightest bit before being tackled by (Y/D). She giggled, jumping up and down in her shiny new coat of paint, the (F/C) was the same but the (S/C) now had a slight sparkle to it, like glitter. Knockout seemed proud of his work as an exterior designer in bodywork.
"She's hopping up and down like an excited Smokescreen when he's sent on a real mission instead of scouting duty."
"She was not badly damaged by the storm?" Predaking questioned.
"Horribly damaged," Knockout admitted, "She was blinded, circuits melted, wings deformed, paint peeled-" he shivered, looking to the femmeling as she showed no signs of these ailments, "Then suddenly her systems were back online and the only proof she was ever harmed was her paint job and wings."
Predaking picked her up with ease, giving a sigh.
"Did you have to add glitter to her (S/C) coloring?"
"Your lack of femmes is showing," Knockout huffed, "A proper lady needs some sparkle! Makes her feel fancy sometimes. Gives her class!"
Knockout continued his Edna Mode rant in the background as Predaking looked to the other two who had guided him to his charge. (Y/D) cooed, snuggling into his neck cables.
"I will explain now."
The two mechs listened, albeit with some hesitation to believe him when he lied about the youngling altogether. "Hadn't found anything" their left pede. As Predaking continued his story, their expressions softened and soon Knockout joined the conversation as he asked about how she was taken care of; hygiene, energon rations and the like. When he mentioned check-ups, they were all surprised to hear it was Ratchet who gladly took on that task. Predaking didn't trust his own doctors on his land, neither did he trust Knockout, which made the cherry red mech huff, but he trusted Ratchet, out of all bots-
