Nexus. A bench near a stone arch. A different take on things

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Threnody is unaware of the symphony of bird song occurring over her head and all around her. She's paying no mind to the local rodent population, though there's a squirrel sitting on her foot right at this moment. She has no attention to spare for the bright forms of the flowers that are scattered throughout the undergrowth and the grass of the little forest glade she's found. Most of her attention is focused on the tiny construction of paper and various colouring chemicals that she holds between her fingertips.

Cyclonus would be non-plussed, and Scourge would be quietly and uncomprehendingly supportive if they found her now, but she's used to those reactions when her friends find her with a book.

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She pushes off from the tree and saunters toward him, her presence seeming to fill the space between the trees.

"No, I know the feel of my own spark. That's the scraplet I left baking in the CR tank before Unicron's treachery finally caught up with me and sent me to be nattered at by Starscream for all eternity. What earns your disapproval?"

Her journey stops in front of him, and those crimson optics measure him curiously.

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Scourge can't meet her optics. He's not sure whether to offer the deference he would to his Galvatron, or to treat her as less than the one he considers the 'real' Galvatron. For now he simply keeps his head down, almost bowing but not quite.

"It seems...to lack your fire. Someone is keeping your memory hidden away and it does not seek to uncover it, nor to assume leadership as your heir might."

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"Keeping my memory hidden?" Her brows draw together. "Did she say who?"

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"Everyone, as far as I can tell. She said she had to get Astrotrain drunk just to get any information out of him, she's scoured the databanks and doesn't even know what you look like..." Scourge tugs at his beard again. "And even that's assuming she's telling the truth in the first place."

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A snort. "Astrotrain is an idiot. And she's young enough to fall for his ploy to get a free drink."

Then she scowls darkly as she thinks. "There should be... oh yes, I forgot. I didn't leave any pictures behind."

Inconvenient, that.

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"...why?" Scourge asks, mouth gaping. "You--Galvatron was glorious. There's a statue in his honor standing over his crypt, and Megatron before him was all over the propaganda pieces. There's barely anything of our Galvatron and still Cyclonus keeps every scrap he has."

This is not Galvatron. This is something else, something secret, and Scourge doesn't like it.

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"The statue should still be there." She's scowling darkly again. "It better be! Someone needs to go and see who's screwing up over there. Where are my monuments?"

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"If she is telling me the truth, someone's conspired to hide your legacy from her. I don't know why, but...the whole thing sounds wrong." Scourge's gaze flicks to the spot where Threnody pinpointed away from. "Even a name like Threnody...a dirge. What name is that for a conqueror?"

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She shrugs at that last, mentally making a note to make Ratchet's life like the very pit until he agrees to have someone look into this gross neglect. "Names can always be changed."

Then she tilts her head to look at him with a slightly demanding expression. "What's she like? Not like me, you say? Did she throw more to Cyclonus?"

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"No, not to Cyclonus, more to..." He shakes his head briefly, as if he's trying to get something away. "I don't mean this to be offensive, but more to an Autobot. If she's truly your creation, there's been a great treachery committed to keep her down."

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A thunderstorm seems to pass over the forest as her scowl darkens. "Explain! Why do you think she's like an Autobot?"

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Scourge cowers before her, knowing that Galvatron always wanted honesty from his troops. But talking back to anyone who even calls themself Galvatron is jarring.

"She is kind and gentle; she helped me when I was a stranger to her and put herself in potential danger without the least fear of betrayal. She doesn't seem to want to exert her authority over others, to use force and commands like a true Decepticon leader would."

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The lack of desire to be in charge she attributes to Cyclonus. The lack of authority might be due to her youth, which is the fault of that slagging thing she was created in. But kind and gentle?

Still scowling, her angry thought translates into angry action as she starts pacing like a caged wildcat. What has she done to her legacy by building her in that pit cursed Autobot tank?

She's still aware of you, Scourge.

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Scourge keeps cowering, staying close to the shelter of the trees. They won't prevent a gun blast from this strange creature, but they make him feel better.