the world outside is dark. [NARRATIVE/OPEN?]

[thehardway]

WHO: Ultra Magnus. Open if anyone wants to visit him for some reason.
WHERE: His office at the enforcer's HQ.
WHEN Sometime after the Glyphless are all dealt with.
WHAT: There's a lot on Ultra Magnus's mind, but the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord never rests. There's always a task to see to.
WARNINGS: Various mentions of character death in various ways.



There's still a tired ache in his joints.

Everything with Ultra Magus concerning things like attention to emotions, how to phrase certain things, how to consider a perspective and maintain a sense of being professional no matter how he might actually want a certain matter -- it boils down to the aspect that he needs to behave a certain way because that is what is needed of him. Ultra Magnus must remain a reliable constant.

That doesn't change what he is internally. Not as he silently handed off Drift's body to Wing. Not as he carefully cradled Tailgate's corpse in one arm despite how energon dribbled down to his wrist because of the shot in the head. Finding Swerve, tending to him, trying to not think of how Tailgate sobbed and apologized. Optimus asking him to keep watch over Smokescreen. Collecting Hot Rod's body from Solus Prime.

Or when he finally stood in Alpha Trion's quadrant, looking at Blurr's hard work, and began to arrange graves.

Alone, he allows himself a long time to just. Hold Rodimus in his arms for one last time. He'd tried to repair some of the external damage, because he couldn't bear to see what he had to do. It doesn't change the fact that the colors are faded now. He knows what he had with Rodimus wasn't meant to be very deep, but it didn't change how fond he was of the young, impulsive, potential-filled captain. For Rodimus, it was purely a good physical interaction. For Ultra Magnus, it got more complicated, despite his own attempts to stifle those thoughts and feelings.

In his silence, he calmly places Rodimus away with the others.

He should, logically, see to his own repairs eventually. He knows that. He doesn't tend to put that sort of thing off until the last minute, but this is different and complicated and he can excuse it. Repairs? No, he'll point the medics in other directions. There are others injured besides him, after all.

No, he wants to feel this for a little longer.

It's silent now that they're dead. Magnus slowly limps his way into the headquarters so carefully crafted by McCrane and his friends, finding himself in his office. A familiar, clean comfort zone where nothing changes.

So he sits, pulls up a datapad, and considers.

Right. He should maybe write a report. That would be suitable. Professional.

The enforcer gets to work, as always.

There is one constant that should never change. Ultra Magnus will be that constant.

Comments

Let me know if this isn't okay =3 I'll be happy to edit or withdraw it as needed

[notyourblueangel]

Thundercracker had seen the powerful Autobot commander enter the police station. When first built, the Seeker had been nothing but wary of the building, determined never to go there himself, voluntarily or involuntarily. Now . . . he stood on the threshold staring at the door. It was something he'd been thinking about for a while now, more and more seriously.

Overlord...

Tarn...

The Glyphless...

With the last, especially, he'd finally had something to do. Not in a sense of combating boredom, but . . . a real purpose, a reason for being. Without the war, without something to fight for, without a reason beyond mere survival to come out of recharge each morning, the veteran warrior had been lost. It was an ache even Megatron - the negative polarity one to whom he'd sworn himself some weeks ago now - had been unable to alleviate. And now Lord Megatron was missing.

With a growl at himself for his cowardice hesitance, he pushes the door open, striding in until he finds the Autobot's office.

He too is still injured and covered in fluids, but he doesn't care. The medics are busy. He'll take care of himself, like he normally does. Later. This first.

He pauses at the door, knocking softly on the frame for the mech's attention. His head is up, back straight, wings high as he addresses the mech in a low voice. "Ultra Magnus." He can't help a level of anxiety - he feels like he's walking into..."the lion's den" as he's heard humans put it - but he's careful to keep it from showing.

totally okay!

[thehardway]

Of all the individuals to come see to him (not that Ultra Magnus is anticipating any) he does not expect a visit from Thundercracker.

The enforcer peers up from his desk. The way the melted plating on various spots for the Autobot commander, some parts torn, dented -- it all makes him more imposing. His blue optics glow a bit more fiercely as he stares at the Seeker.

"Thundercracker," Ultra Magnus returns, setting his datapad down, his motion full of barely contained emotion of some kind. Though he remains detached in most cases, it's at least subtly clear that he's on edge.

"Why are you here?"

8D;;;

[notyourblueangel]

The mech is indeed imposing, far more so than his counterpart from Thundercracker's reality. In fact, he's on par with Megatron, his Megatron, right now, especially when the powerful Decepticon overlord was in one of his fouler moods. Thundercracker is long used to dealing with that, though. It doesn't scare bother him anymore.

That's what he tells himself, anyway.

Ultra Magnus might or might not catch the faint flinch as the datapad is set down. This is a bad idea. This is a fragged idea! What is he thinking, aiming to put himself under the command of someone who's already made it abundantly clear that all he has to do is move wrong and he'll have the enforcers after him. Merely because of his faction. Because of his past.

No. Don't think like that. He knows that Blurr would speak up for him if something happened. And Starscream is on the committee that makes the laws, right? Right. He's not alone. He just has to remember that, as much as he feels he is so many times.

He squares his shoulders and meets the mech's optics, the flick of his wings being the only real indication of any discomfort. "I'm not here for trouble, Autobot." He doesn't even notice he's called him "Autobot", it's not meant as an insult, just a recognition of the faction differences. "Least of all right now, after everything that's happened and things that are still outstanding."

He pulls a cycle of air over his vents. "Blurr said there's a process to go through to join the police force."

[thehardway]

Carefully, Thundercracker is observed under a scrutinizing glare from the enforcer. The way the jet moves, even in the slightest, is observed. Possibly mental notes are being made. A faint twitch, the way his wings move.

But he doesn't point it out. Just watches.

If Ultra Magnus is annoyed or insulted at the use of Autobot, he doesn't show it. He's heard worse and he doesn't expect Thundercracker to be a fool. Of the trio, Thundercracker's been the most sensible. It seems that trait carries out, no matter the universe he's from.

What Thundercracker comes to state after that? Is a surprise. Ultra Magnus scowls and stands up slowly, ignoring how his joints still creak from the pressure and strain.

"There is," Ultra Magnus responds slowly. "I would not have expected you to show any interest in enforcing the law."

[rungout]

If Rung was going to be honest, this was the sort of thing he was far too use to. After living for as long as he had and working with the Wreckers especially, Rung had seen countless numbers of comrades and associates fall victim to death.

But that never made it any easier. Especially this time around.

He'd felt so absolutely helpless, more so now than he ever had before and even now, as arrangements were being made, Rung wasn't sure where to even start. There were so many that he wanted to help, that he wanted to check on but finding them all was the key thing. Luckily, though, there was one bot, a bot that had been directly involved in a lot of what had gone down with the glyphless, that he did know how to find easy enough.

So that's where he headed.

Hesitating at the door, Rung lifts a hand to knock on the door frame, not even bothering trying to school his expression--he's never been good at that after all.

"..Ultra Magnus?"

[thehardway]

The Decepticon had been a surprise.

So is this.

Work is slower to manage as he tries to force himself to focus. To type and sort, but the words are difficult. Harder than usual. He doesn't entirely understand why. After all, Ultra Magnus has been doing this sort of thing for a few million years.

Of course, he's never really had to kill comrades, much less these circumstances. Still...

He pauses, glancing up towards the psychiatrist.

"Rung," Magnus addresses him. "What can I do for you?"

[rungout]

" ...I wanted to make sure you were alright," the therapist replied softly, taking a step into the office, then another. He studied the other, taking in his appearances and any little clues that might be there that Rung knew to look for wih anyone he worked with.

It was all about reading others after all.

"are you?" Rung pauses a few steps away from the desk, head tilted just slight. He could tell the other wasn't but he wanted to hear what Magnus had to say.

[thehardway]

Of course. Not only for his sense of professionalism, but Rung is kind at spark. It makes sense that he'd make time to check on Ultra Magnus. Though the immediate response he wants to give is of course in regards to the fact that he's all right.

It's just. He knows, internally, that something doesn't feel right. For all that he tries to remain detached, it's suddenly harder.

"I require repairs and I am likely due to a recharge cycle, all of which will be attended to when I am done with my reports." Ultra Magnus leans back a little in his chair, exhaling wearily.

"I'm. Certain that there are others who will require your assistance. I can still tend to my duties."

[mccrane]

There's been too much happening, of late.

He'd thought the worst this world had to offer was his own death, until he'd seen the horrors wrought after the Glyphless. He'd monitored the network. He'd watched over Pharma, waiting for an audience with Liege to speak with him about keeping Pharma safe.

Then, when an...agreement had been made, he'd left. There was too much work for the police to do, for him to remain watching over one prisoner.

There were too many repairs to make.

It's only coincidence that Ultra Magnus is at his desk when McCrane drops by to hand in his own report. Doing such has become habit for him, in lieu of Deckerd or Commander Seijima. He's almost surprised to see the other mech here and not out, patrolling, bringing law to the lawless on the plains...

...but he cannot blame Ultra Magnus. Too much has gone on.

Instead, he simply sets down the datapad on the desk, and watches the other quietly for a time. "Did you get the drafts that I forwarded you?"

[thehardway]

Slowly, Ultra Magnus looks up as McCrane arrives. It's good to see another coworker's face, a reliable sort. Still, he himself he's aware is not in such a good condition.

Briefly, his optics linger on McCrane's glyph. White, untainted, glowing sharply.

He wonders who Rodimus would have been aligned to, for all of the complexities one mech could be. Rodimus was chaotic, wild, impulsive, but coming with great intentions and confidence. There was a lot that needed fine tuning, but there was enough to admire as well.

"I did," Magnus responds. "I have not had a chance to review them, unfortunately. I became very quickly occupied. My apologies."

[mccrane]

There are few times when McCrane wishes he were good at something that he's not, and watching Ultra Magnus, covered in burns and metal scars, is difficult. If this had been any of his team...Dumpson, Power Joe, or especially Drill Boy, he'd have at least found a wet towel to use in lieu of a competent engineering team.

He recognizes the stubborn-ness of staying on the job, however, because he's seen it in himself. He's seen it in Deckerd, too, and in Gunmax...albeit differently.

When he realizes he's been staring--and that Ultra Magnus, too, has been staring back at a particular part of his anatomy, he finds himself reflexively reaching to cover the Glyph.

He stops.

"They aren't pressing." He'd only forwarded them to provide Ultra Magnus with a distraction. The fact that he hadn't read them yet gave McCrane all the information about the other's last few days that he would need to know.

"Pharma is in Liege Maximo's custody," he says, indicating this new report he's left on the desk, "and everything is fine, here." His fingers uncurl from around his Glyph, and he glanced back toward the main room. "In fact...I took the liberty of installing a spare berth in the garage." He doesn't look at Ultra Magnus, as he continues, knowing he doesn't have to, to make a point. "For those late nights when it's too long a drive to go home after working."

[thehardway]

At the motion, Ultra Magnus takes a moment to look at his own glyph. The mark of Vector Prime, for all of the good it's done him; he ignored Vector's advice and he doesn't see how he ever could have, but he still did nothing. And perhaps Vector paid for that.

He isn't so sure.

"Good work," he informs the other enforcer, glancing back to McCrane. "I'll... finish my reports."

And then, he isn't sure. Work, if he could help it, but he can foresee Blurr telling him to take time off.

A berth in the garage. Ultra Magnus's optics brighten slightly at the suggestion.

"So noted. I think it was wise to place that."

[sciencetank]

Perceptor should never attempt to comfort anyone. It's an area of study best left to those with more sensitivity, with gentler personalities, and those less likely to bluntly state their opinions whether or not they were asked. In short, anyone besides himself.

Logically, there is no reason to shoulder any blame. He had done what he could. Had made every attempt. His work simply hadn't been enough, and there was, quite literally, no way of knowing that. With no tests to run, no willing subjects to use -- there was no data.

He figures, at the very least, he should return the handcuffs to their rightful location. Which was, honestly, how he'd even seen the retreating form of the alternate Magnus. And, of course, he'd followed, out of some lingering curiosity. Some sense of duty --

He stands outside the room for a few minutes, debating.

"Commander?"

He even knocks. "This is your office, yes?"

[thehardway]

If he can count on something, it's that most likely Perceptor is here for business. Not for compassion, which Ultra Magnus has no idea what to do with anyway, or to waste his time.

He lifts his chin up and he peers at the door before he responds.

"It is. Come in, Perceptor. What can I do for you?"

While he doesn't necessarily want to do much more work, he will.

[sciencetank]

He enters, but, for the most part, ends up standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. Yellow optics flick up and down the other Autobot's frame, noting changes, making notes. From his expression, he isn't liking what he's seeing.

"I came to return a few unused pairs of cuffs."

A statement which he punctuates by holding out a pair.

"I believe I have enough data to build my own, now, should... the need arise..."

He lets that sentence hang, all the implications weighty enough to be left unsaid. After a moment, he adds, quietly, and, for him, gently: "You look terrible."

[thehardway]

There's almost a furious, irrational part of him that wants to ask, to be angry as he demands what's the point now. But the Firstforged have always said that this has happened before. It stands to reason that they will have to face this horror once more.

Ultra Magnus internally pleads that he will not have to kill Rodimus again.

"Very good," he responds softly, taking the pair from Perceptor.

There's a pause at the remark, then he tilts his head away. "I was set on fire a few times and I had to kill three of my crew. Captain included. I'm a bit... weary."

[raceme]

[Blurr was practically moving on autopilot. Once he finally stepped inside the Headquarters he stopped paying attention to his surroundings. He was not expecting to find a Glyphless inside there, he was sure they couldn't enter either.

From the chest down he was covered in bright dripping energon and he only wanted to clean himself and get back to work. He was tired and aching all over, his left arm hurt from his fight with Ironfist and his processor was sending him warning messages about his low fuel levels. There was also a different warning, about that stinging pain in his side that just didn't go away. He ignored it all.

When he passed by Ultra Magnu's office he noticed the light and stopped. None of the glhypless were from his work but many, way too many, were from Ultra Magnus's universe. He had to see his comrades go mad and die, and worse, he had to kill them himself. It made Blurr's spark ache for the other bot. He knocked at the door, quite fast, his particular way of doing it.

[thehardway]

The fast paced knock is one that he is familiar with. Eventually, he knows he'd have to see Blurr. His commanding officer, and his friend.

With a shove, he stands up from his desk.

"Blurr. Come in. I'm here."

[raceme]

Blurr walks in at a slow pace, too tired to move faster when there's no need for it. He gives the other bot a soft smile.

"Hello Ultra Magnus, I didn't knew you were here." Blurr's speech was also slower, soothed. "How are you feeling?"

[wheeljackofalltrades]

After dealing with Cylas, and unintentionally working with two Decepticons to bring him down, Wheeljack had left the battlefield in...well, he had seen better days, to put it honestly. His white paint had been charred from Cylas's cannon, there were dents, scratches, and numerous torn wires to add to the mix. He didn't seem...particularly in danger, but...he figured he might as well report it in. Knock Out and Shockwave wouldn't.

It was better that they didn't.

He gets to the headquarters, limping his way in and holding his swords, making his way towards Magnus's office. Out of anyone, he's the one who'd listen to Wheeljack the most. Oddly enough. There's a soft, weak knock at the door--

Oh...did he come at a bad time?

"Sparky."

[thehardway]

Not someone he'd been anticipating. Of course, Ultra Magnus hasn't been anticipating anyone at all. Today is a surprise for many reasons.

And here Wheeljack is, just as injured as he is.

There's a soft groan from Ultra Magnus as he forces himself to his feet. It's harder to stand, the longer he ignores melted plating and torn pieces. He should see to First Aid, he knows it.

But he feels the pain now. Needs it.

"Wheeljack. What happened?"

[wheeljackofalltrades]

If Wheeljack could be surprised, it was shown no better than his reaction right now. His optics widen at the sight of him, and he almost drops his swords. Even Magnus put himself on the line. Wheeljack was...still getting used to this, Commanders putting themselves on the line instead of sending cronies and leaving when the going gets rough.

Those optics dart around, checking every part of him.

"Glyphless attack. Came to report that Cylas is dead. The hunk of scrap."

As much as he hated Breakdown, fighting his re-inhabited corpse only sickened him even more.

[warborn]

If anyone knows about breaking points, it's Fortress Maximus. And while he's been keeping to himself lately, watching and wary and ready for anything that needs him...

He hasn't felt very needed, lately.

But.

He hunts down Ultra Magnus eventually, coming across the office he was told was his. And, after a minute or so of staring at the door...

Knocks.

[thehardway]

The knock just makes him weary. Though to be fair, Ultra Magnus hasn't really focused much more on his work since hes interacted with everyone else. It's been increasingly harder to organize his reports.

There's a heavy exhale before he pushes himself up to his feet. It's getting harder to move; he knows he should take the time to see First Aid.

"Who is it?" he calls out.

[warborn]

"Open the door, Magnus."

If he can't figure from the the voice...well, Max may just have to push his way in, anyway. He does try the door anyway, just to see if it's locked.