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.

[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?"

[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?"

[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?"

[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.

[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."

[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.