randomplaces | Nexus. The Black Dog bar. Alive again, or newly alive.

She sits at the bar, idly dabbling a finger in her cube of mid-grade blue as she listens to the comings and goings and the talk and laughter all around her. She can make sense of what she hears now, since Scattor gave her a little of his own programming... an 'operating system', he'd called it. So she knows what's going on here, and she knows how to use this body she's found herself in.

She still doesn't know what she was created for.

Nothing is random. Scattor says this, and she finds that she strongly believes it herself now that she's capable of believing anything. Yet here she is with a superbly equipped body and a functioning processor inhabited by the memories and personality of a dead organic femme and the quirky jokes of a former Decepticon turned Guardian Fae.

Her ears quiver softly in a smile as she thinks of her mentor. She still hasn't figured him out, but she thinks she likes him. As much as she likes anything yet.

There's a whimper and a little yip from her left, and her hand goes out unerringly to scratch the ears of the hybrid Maximal sparklet that the bar is named for. "Ach, Pooka, is everyvone ignoring you again?"

There's a good-natured snort from Nemesis, and Liedherz's ears move with amusement as she lowers her head to nuzzle the fuzzy youngster.

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"Try me." Despite the impassivity of her face she manages to give him a smirk that is Decepticon in its mocking coldness.

"As I said," he says, the words falling like slabs of paving stone, "you don't leave us a choice." Backing down is not an option; any notion of grovelling for the information is so far out of range it hasn't even occurred to him.

"Und you're too crippled to just go und search the Multinets yourself."

If he did grovel, it would probably break her processor.

He resists the urge to lecture her on the folly that plan would be. "We both know I won't find a useful answer there."

More accurately, even if by chance he stumbled on the part that would tell him what he needs to know, he wouldn't know it. The Multinet will tell you everything: that's the problem. It will tell you anything. And while there are ways to extract the worthwhile sections, cross-reference for the most common events... why wait for Movor to report on that? Liedherz is right here.

She stares at him, both her useless silver optics and her small perked ears focused upon him intently as she inwardly acknowledges a message she just received.

She'd rather let these guys rust in the pit. But she owes Scattor her life. She'll honor his request, but she doesn't have to make it pleasant.

Optics narrowing, she gives the tall mech a good solid poke in the processor, demanding permission to download data there.

His visor doesn't so much as flicker, though he gives a loud 'hrmph' of satisfaction. Permission is granted, even if he is going to be watching very closely what she sends him. Don't measure your energon until you're home...

Her horn is shining brightly as her presence becomes palpable in his mind, much stronger than it had ever been when 'Liedherz' had been an organic woman. The presence is deliberately noticeable, and very uncomfortable, but before he can protest (if he's inclined to do so), an image flashes across his awareness, followed by others.

Everything that has happened in most timelines like his. Every detail of the reprogramming, the using them as fuel, and their final trip to Cybertron.

A growl escapes his vocaliser, but before he has to restrain himself from cuffing her the information is his processor.

Mega-Octane jerks backwards, barely aware of the roof beneath him, optic visor dimmed as he runs through the images, forward and back and forward as more come in. His vocaliser gives a short sputter as it seizes up. It's a long minute before he unclenches himself and stares at Liedherz once more. "How did you find out about this?" he demands roughly.

She replies with another image, one flavored with her own dislike of the being depicted. The picture flashes through his processor like lightening, but it's recognizable enough.

Blackout.

Silence for a bare second, and then there's an iron calm in his voice: "If Blackout knew about this, why wouldn't she tell us?"

The real surprise, here, may be that he isn't completely surprised. Mega-Octane himself doesn't notice that yet.

"I vouldn't know," she says indifferently, breaking the connection abruptly and rudely. "You have your information. Now go avay."

He growls and rubs his chin, looking straight over her head for a minute.

Then, at last, he turns on his heel to go.

Behind him, Liedherz slips into the shadows to go home and face the gentle reproach of her teacher.

Nexus. The Black Dog bar. Alive again, or newly alive.

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