The Singer Chapter One
Megatronus hadn’t really thought much of the Singer before now.Everyone knows about the Singer. A Seeker, blessed by Primus to be connected to the ‘Song of the Universe’, or so it is said. They are supposed to work in tandem with the Prime to guide the people of Cybertron – which would explain why Megatronus had never seen him before. The Singer stays in Iacon, they would never travel to somewhere like Kaon.But now, he is the one travelling to Iacon. He glances out the window of his transport vehicle and sneers at the posh scenery. He might be the Kaon delegate, chosen to represent the city-state in the latest batch of mass trade talks hosted in Iacon, but he can still resent the upper-class nature of the city.Iacon is a city of rich elites – for the most part anyways – and he doubts most of his fellow delegates and councillors consider him to be ‘politician’ material. He isn’t, not really. But Kaon is a rougher class of people, and he had worked his way up the ranks until he had gotten here.Inside the city of razor snakes, he thinks bitterly, turning away from the window to where the rest of his delegation is waiting. They are on their way to a state dinner – Iacon is fond of those sort of high-class simpering parties – and rumour has it that the Prime makes a habit of presenting the Singer as entertainment.“I’ve never heard the Singer before,” he hears Blitzwing say as he comes over, the mech’s optics bright with anticipation. “I’ve heard it’s like listening to an angel.” He leans forward excitedly in his seat. “Do you think it’s true that his songs can predict the future? My sire said he’s connected to the Threads of Fate, and it comes out in song.”Next to him, Hook scoffs and crosses his arms. “That’s just a story,” he says, shaking his helm. “Besides, everyone knows you can’t understand the Singer. It’s all song, he can’t even talk to explain what he’s saying. He could be predicting the future and you would never know it.”Blitzwing pouts a little at that, which Megatronus ignores, instead glancing over to his silent Second, the blank black mask revealing nothing. “And what do you think, Soundwave?” he asks. “Will this Singer be everything he is chalked up to be?”Soundwave remains silent for a moment before he lifts his servo to pet the symbiote on his chest and repeats back the sound of Blitzwing’s voice. “I’ve never heard the Singer before.”Megatronus nods before flicking his optics up, noting the slowing pace of the transport vehicle. “Look sharp,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “We’re almost there.” oOoThe dinner is just as CPU-numbing as he had been expecting it to be. He and his delegation are seated with the others at a long table in a vast dining room, the room itself a perfect example of grand exuberant Iaconian tastes, with high vaulted ceilings sweeping up to small windows which let in the light of the setting sun. The table is set with crystal tableware, and the feast hosts food from all over the planet. The seating too, seems overly complicated, but it is probably intentional for intricate political reasons.He flicks his optics around the room as each delegation is broken up, but not completely, so that most mechs are sitting next to both familiar and unfamiliar faces. There are delegations from nearly every city-state at the dinner, although he can’t help noting the lack of a Seeker delegation from the city of Vos. He supposes they might not need to send anyone though, if their Singer is constantly at the Prime’s elbow.He himself still has Hook at his left elbow, but an unfamiliar mech from Crystal City sits on his right. The mech’s paintjob is impeccable, polished till it is near sparkling, and he has a light blue robe draped over his shoulder struts that pools down by his chair, the thing made out of light, impractically gauzy fabric.Actually, most of the delegates have extra finery either flowing or clinking about their person. Kaon doesn’t generally bother with that sort of thing, but from the look the mech throws him, he imagines his lack is poorly regarded.He grits his denta and works on keeping his face neutral. Just because everyone in the room is an upper-class snob doesn’t mean he can get off on the wrong pede with them. He scans the mech and tries to place him. “Councillor Crystalspire, I presume,” he says, turning towards the mech with what he hopes is an appropriately welcoming expression.The mech seems a little surprised by his ability to recognise him – as though he couldn’t have spent the last few deca-orns preparing for this like everybody else— and he finds he has to keep the small, pleasant smile on his face by sheer force of will.“Ah,” Crystalspire says in a lofty tone, turning to him. “A pleasure.” His optics flick over him, taking in his battle-grade armour. “Megatronus of Kaon, I believe?”Megatronus smiles serenely and makes polite conversation at him for a while before a fanfare finally choruses through the room, cutting through the chatter and announcing the entrance of the Prime and his Senate. He turns and watches silently as Sentinel Prime steps in through the high doorway, followed by the Senate as he makes his stately way towards the raised dais at one end of the table, a separate feast spread out for him and the Senate.The Senate seats themselves, while Sentinel remains standing, his heavy, deep blue robe draped over one arm as he reaches for a glass of energon. “My friends,” he starts, raising the glass, the crystal sparkling in the warm light. “It pleases me that we are able to meet and refuel together.”He smiles widely at the group, and Megatronus works on keeping his expression calm. He had known when he had come here that he would have to deal with pompous simpering and speechmaking politicking, but he would really much rather just get on with the trade talks.Nevertheless, Sentinel continues, speaking of peace and cohesion and comradery, the councillors around him nodding along as though they all wouldn’t spit in each other’s energon if given the chance.“Finally,” Sentinel says, gesturing off to the door from which he had entered. “As a symbol of the great bond between our city-states, as well as the wisdom of Primus given to us, I present to you, the Singer.”Megatronus sits up slightly and can’t help craning his neck a little as he watches a slim mech step into the room. A hush falls over the table, and Megatronus watches almost mesmerized as the mech’s wings sweep up elegantly behind him, the simple silver panels nearly glowing in the light.This isn’t the first time he has seen a Seeker before, although it is a rare occurrence, and like any that he’d managed to catch a glimpse of, this one is stunning. He wears a robe like everyone else, the sheer, lightweight fabric completely pointless, but beautiful as it flares around him, the gold mesh complimenting his grey and red armor. The finery suits him better than some of the other councillors, and the Seeker moves confidently, with a grace that some could only dream of.Up on the dais, Sentinel Prime sits back, a satisfied smile on his face at the reaction drawn by the Singer. He gives the mech a nod and the Seeker sweeps his wings up as he steps lightly over to stand next to the dais, his chin high as he opens his mouth to sing.“When I look into your… eyes...” Megatronus blinks at the soft, slow melody, the Seeker’s voice seeming to float over the crowd, the folds of his robe swaying with him as he sings. “It's like watching the night sky… or a beautiful sunrise, there's so much they hold.”Megatronus raises an optic ridge as he listens. He will admit that the voice is pleasant. Legend says that the Singer is blessed with the clearest, broadest voice among the Seekers, capable of reaching the highest or lowest notes of any of them, and that at least, seems to hold true.“While at least his voice isn’t overexaggerated,” Hook grumbles quietly next to him, his optics on the Singer. “But his song doesn’t seem all that special to me.”Megatronus can’t help but agree. It is a nice song, the notes flowing and calm, a perfect opener for a state dinner, but he wouldn’t say there is anything magic, or cosmic, or fateful about it. The song finishes, and the Singer sweeps into a low bow as they applaud, his optics glancing over the table as he stands.His gaze drifts over him and their optics meet for a nanoklick, and for a moment Megatronus could swear they widen in surprise at the sight of him. Just as quickly though, the Seeker’s face is reset with an expression of calm elegance, and Megatronus is almost certain that he had imagined the whole thing.The Singer continues with another song, but the councillors slowly turn back to their dinner, sipping at flavoured energon and nibbling at fancy treats as they chat lightly with each other, twisting their words in and out of phrases so as to never quite say exactly what they mean.Megatronus sighs and reaches for a spun crystal pastry, a delicacy from Praxus that he would never normally have been able to sample. He vents and darts his optics around the table, keeping a lookout for both Soundwave and Blitzwing, and noting the councillors sitting on either side of them. He might hate the politicking, but he is not completely ignorant of it. He had come to Iacon to protect the interests of his city, and he intends to do so.Which means making nice and chatting stupidly with the mechs around him.The dinner stretches on, and he has just about exhausted the topic of the assorted variety of refreshments at the feast with Crystalspire, when the Singer changes his song again.He probably wouldn’t have noticed, except for this time, the Seeker hums to himself for a few beats, as though imitating an instrument, and he glances up for a moment, wondering briefly why the Singer couldn’t have been provided with real instruments for the occasion, considering how he is supposed to be the evening’s entertainment.As he looks up, his optics meet briefly with the Seeker’s again, and the mech’s mouth ticks upward into a flash of a sly smile before he opens his mouth and begins his song.“I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told, I have squandered my resistance, for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises.”The words are soft, almost gentle as the Seeker sings them, and Megatronus isn’t sure why they capture him so much, except for the fact that the Seeker holds his gaze the entire time. The phrase finishes and the Singer’s optics glint, his voice becoming a little louder.“All lies and jests,” his optics dart around the room as he sings before landing on him again. “Still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest.”The Seeker closes his optics for a moment, swaying as he hums again and Megatronus finds himself staring at him, his dinner forgotten. The Seeker opens his optics and looks at him again, the intensity of his gaze practically pinning him to his chair.“When I left my home and my family,” he sings, something knowing in his optics. “I was no more than a boy, in the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railway station, running scared.”His voice seems to target something in him as he strikes the last two words, his wings flaring out behind him.A klick later and Councillor Crystalspire is trying to talk to him, seemingly unfazed by the song or the Seeker singing it. Megatronus blinks and forces himself to tear his gaze away from the Singer, turning to fumble his way through Crystalspire’s inane remark on the weather in Kaon.By the time he manages to turn back to the song, the verse has changed, and the Seeker’s optics are on him again. “In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade,” he raises his chin. “And he carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down, or CUT him till he cried out, in his anger and his shame.”Megatronus stares, almost numb as he listens, the chatter of the other delegates buzzing emptily in his audios. Up at the front, the Singer’s voice raises with emotion, his arms lifting without ever breaking optics with him. ‘I am leaving, I am leaving’.” His voice drops. “But the fighter still remains, mmm mmm.” The Seeker hums again, swaying slightly with the beat, his optics bright red as he stares at him.This is about you, his optics whisper. Listen to my song. It can’t be anyone else, can it? Not in this room.Megatronus swallows and drags his gaze away. He is being irrational. He has no reason to believe that the Singer would sing about him. Even if the rumours are true and the Singer is connected to Primus through his song, he is supposed to aid the Prime in guiding Cybertron. He has no reason to be singing about the past of one city-state delegate.I’m just reading into it too much, he thinks as he reaches for a cube of delicately spiced energon. I’m sure everyone thinks he is singing about them at one point or another. His songs can mean anything if you want them to.That doesn’t explain why the Seeker had refused to look away from him.He turns to Hook after that, finding out who is on his other side, and making polite conversation about current trends, and weather events, and isn’t-it-good-of-the-Prime-to-invite-us-all-here, all the while unable to keep his audio receptors from tuning into the Seeker at the front of the room.The tone changes for the next song, the Singer tapping his digits against his leg to speed up the beat, his robe swaying lightly with his movements. “Sing for your supper, and you'll get breakfast,” he starts, his voice harder than before, his wings swinging up. “Songbirds always eat.” The note is drawn out, almost jarringly sharp before he continues. “If their song is sweet to hear.”Megatronus finds his helm turning back to the Seeker, unable to keep from focusing on the song. The Singer’s optics meet his again, before flicking briefly to the raised dais, his voice climbing.“I heard, from a wise canary, trilling makes a fellow willing…” His optics are sharp as they turn to scrutinize the room, his gaze landing on him again. “So, little swallow, swallow now, now is the time to sing for your supper and you'll get breakfast.” For the barest flash of a klick, a sneer seems to flicker over his mouth, but it is gone in the next instant. “Songbirds are not dumb.”“What, do you suppose a canary is?” he finds himself asking, mumbling almost to himself, his optics still up front.Next to him, Councillor Crystalspire snorts, shaking his helm. “Who knows?” he says with a dismissive wave. “He may have the voice of Primus, but nobody knows what he says.”The verse is repeating, and Megatronus watches as the Singer sings, his optics narrowed. “Now is the time to sing for your supper, and you'll get breakfast,” he sings as he glances over the crowd, his servos spread to mirror his wings. “Songbirds are not dumb. They never buy a crumb of bread, it is said...” His gaze drops to Megatronus’ again. “So sing. And you'll be fed.” He hums sharply and his wings flare as he raises his chin. “Just sing. And you'll be fed.”Megatronus sets his energon down and glances around the table. He might not have the brightest mind at deciphering hidden meanings, and Kaon might not have a tradition of song like Vos does… but the song certainly feels pointed.Nobody else seems to have noticed though.The Singer meets his gaze for a klick, before he straightens and starts another song, his voice going softer and his digits moving for a klick, as though plucking invisible strings in the air. “I need another story,” he sings. “Something to get off my chest. My life gets kinda boring, need something that I can confess.”His voice filters above the sounds of the mech’s around him, and Megatronus can’t help noticing how their conversations remain uninterrupted. He really is just supposed to be the entertainment, he thinks as he glances around the room. Most people are hardly even listening to him.From what he can hear though, the Singer seems to be saying something anyways.He lifts his energon again to take a sip. “What was his name again?” he asks, his optics pinned on the fiery ones in front.The optics stare right back. “Tell me what you want to hear,” he sings. “Something that will light those ears. Sick of all the insincere, so I’m gonna give All My Secrets away.”Councillor Crystalspire shrugs, hardly paying the song any mind as he reaches for another pastry. “Starscream, I believe.”Megatronus hums thoughtfully.Up at the front, the Singer sings. “This time, don’t need another perfect lie, don’t care if critics ever jump in line, I’m gonna give all my secrets away.” oOoThe dinner carries on well into the night cycle, and the Singer sings for the whole of it, never stopping once, even for energon, the fact making it difficult for Megatronus to forget his ‘Songbird’ song.Songbirds are not dumb, he had sung. Sing and you’ll be fed.Is he reading too much into the Singer’s songs? Everyone knows he can’t be understood, or so he has been told. It seems pretty clear, to him at least, that the Seeker has something to say, regardless.Stay focused, he reminds himself as he and his delegation follow the servant leading them down to the guest quarters set aside for them. You aren’t here for the Singer; you are here for trade and Kaon.Trade talks won’t start until tomorrow though, so for now he just needs to concentrate on getting a good recharge. The rooms they are led to don’t disappoint. Like everything else in the Prime’s palace, the suite is extravagantly outfitted, a lush sitting room separating out into a large crystal washrack, and separate berthrooms for all of them, each with their own overstuffed silken berthmat, and wide windows revealing the glowing nighttime city.“Wow,” Blitzwing murmurs, summing everything up into one awed word. Megatronus can’t help but agree. Council work for Kaon might have introduced him to a higher class of life than what he had been born into, but this is several steps above even that.When I left my home and my family, the voice of the Singer echoes in his processor. I was no more than a boy, in the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railway station, running scared.He shakes his helm and turns to Blitzwing. “So, what did you think of the Singer? Did he live up to your expectations?”Blitzwing grins and walks over to plop down on one of the luxurious couches that sit in the middle of the room. “Well his voice is certainly worth it,” he says, leaning back and kicking his pedes up onto a pillow. “Can’t say I understood what he was going on about, but I doubt he would say much. It was just a dinner after all.”Megatronus hums noncommittedly and sits down on the couch across from him, the soft fabric gliding easily against his armor. He wonders idly if the nicks and old scratches in his frame – hidden, but never fully gone – will catch on the flimsy fabric. Will the small blemish be enough to ruin it? Will the couch be replaced after he leaves?“You didn’t think he was saying anything important?” he asks, turning to Soundwave. “I got the impression he was trying to say something.” Even with the strange words he hadn’t understood, the general impression of the songs had still stuck.Soundwave tilts his helm for a klick before an audio wavelength appears on his faceplate, flashing as he speaks. “He was trying to say something,” his own voice says back to him, and Megatronus can’t help relaxing a little at the fact that he hadn’t been the only one to notice something.By the door, Hook huffs and rolls his shoulder struts. “Well, I didn’t catch anything, but–” He looks over at him. “If you’re really curious, the femme next to me said that anyone can go to see the Singer. Some golden-age rule from before the city-states split or something.”Megatronus blinks. “Surely not everyone can go to see him,” he says. “He’d never stop singing.”Hook laughs, a shrewd expression on his face. “Well, you’re not wrong there,” he says, a rueful tone in his voice. “Certainly no common folk make it to see him. From what I hear, it’s mostly reserved for government officials and such. Mostly the Prime.”Megatronus nods slowly at that, thinking it over. In the clearing stands a boxer, the Singer’s voice comes back to him, along with the memory of his fierce gaze. And a fighter by his trade.“I’ll look into it,” he decides, looking up. “For now, get some rest. We have a long orn tomorrow.” oOoHe isn’t wrong about the length of the orn. Nothing can be simplein Iacon, they can’t just sit down and make trade deals, no, they have to go to conferences, and network, and grease each other’s palms with knives and credits.Frankly, it’s exhausting, but necessary if Kaon wants to keep up with the other city-states, so he plays his part, attending one meeting after another and trying to keep track of which delegates from which city-states he thinks will be the most likely to open favourable trade with Kaon.One thing is a little strange about the conferences though, the Singer is nowhere to be found. He had been expecting to see him constantly by Sentinel’s side, muttering soft lyrics to him in guidance, since he is supposed to be able to do that sort of thing.“Will the Singer be coming later?” he asks the mech seated next to him, Councillor Firespark, an orange bot from Tyger Pax with far too much gold ornamentation about his frame. The mech glances over at him, his yellow optics matching the trinkets dangling from his helm.“Oh.” He blinks and offers him a warmer smile than he had come to expect. “Megatronus, right?” The trinkets jingle as the mech gives him a small nod of respect. “This must be your first time. I wouldn’t expect the Singer. I have never seen him present at any of the trade talks.”Megatronus’ brow furls in confusion at that. He had assumed that the Singer would play an active role in the negotiations. Even if his Primus wisdom is mythical or completely unintelligible, he is still the only Seeker here, Vos hadn’t sent a delegation.Although, he thinks, flicking his optics around the room. If he does have the Primus’ wisdom, and if he can read the lines of Fate, then I suppose he wouldn’t have to be here in person to be able to advise the Prime later on.The oddity of the Singer’s role in Iacon however, is a mystery for another time. Instead he turns back to Firespark. “Have you ever had the Singer sing for you?” he asks. “I’ve heard anyone can go request a song.”Firespark smiles, the bangles on his wrist jingling as he moves. “Oh yes,” he says, giving him an indulgent smile. “I’m sure every councillor requests a song at some point or another.” He flicks his optics over him. “If you wish, I could show you the way to his wing once we are finished here?”Megatronus takes a moment before nodding. While he could probably find a servant to lead the way, forming a bond with Firespark could be useful. He just hopes that the mech won’t take this favour as something to be owed later on.Firespark seems pleased by his acceptance, and they both turn back to listen to a tall purple mech from Tarn explain the recent scientific endeavors of his home city-state, Megatronus doing his best to keep his mind focused on the presentation and not the mysterious Seeker somewhere else in the palace.“Councillor Shockwave is always trying to push his technological advancements,” Firespark tells him afterwards, the sounds of their pedes echoing in the large open hallway leading away from the council rooms. “If you ask me, he’s vying for a spot on the Senate.”Megatronus hums in interest, walking with his servos clasped behind his back and glancing periodically at the scenery outside the large windows that line the hall. He doubts very much that anyone will be entering the Senate anytime soon. Those seats haven’t changed in vorns.“Is the Singer far?” he asks instead, changing the topic.Firespark shrugs his shoulder, his entire frame jingling with his every move. “He can most often be found in the Western Tower,” he says. “That’s his wing. Every Singer has lived there since the construction of the Prime’s Palace eons ago.”Megatronus nods, noting how the wandering hall seems to be slowly leading them upwards. It also seems to be mostly empty, devoid of any other mechs besides themselves, a few servants here and there, and a couple of guards. “There doesn’t seem to be many people in this part of the palace,” he notes, glancing over to Firespark. “I was expecting to find him busy. Is there a time most people go to listen to him?”Firespark laughs and shakes his tinkling helm, looking deeply amused by his comment. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he says, giving him a knowing look. “The novelty wears off after a while.” He smirks. “He may be easy on the optics, but his songs are incomprehensible. There is only so much nonsense a mech can put up with.”Megatronus only just manages to keep from scowling. He can understand that the Singer might be slightly confusing, but surely someone else must wonder a little about his songs. From Firespark’s lewd expression though, he imagines some mech’s minds wander a little too much in other directions while listening.I wonder if the Singer can refuse to sing to someone? he thinks suddenly as he and Firespark begin to climb a white staircase of elegantly carved crystal. What would it be like for anyone to be able to come ask for a song for any reason?He gets distracted from his musings as he and Firespark come closer to the Singer’s quarters. Like the rest of the palace, the whole tower is a grand mix of elegant and expensive tastes. They pass through a hallway of high windows arching up to the sky, these ones filled with colourful glass, the panes casting enchanting shadows on the floor.Around the bend is an open archway with two armed guards standing on either side. “Here you are,” Firespark says, coming to a stop with a light clink. “Enjoy.” He throws him a wink. “The music is only half the show anyways.”Megatronus’ protoform crawls unpleasantly at the implications and he fights to keep a pleasant expression on his face as he watches Firespark walk away. He vents, trying to rid himself of his discomfort, before turning back towards the entrance.The guards watch him as he steps closer and he scans them each in turn. They are warframes, just like himself, and like him, they don’t fool around with extra finery, even their armor primarily one colour, the one on the right mostly red, and the one on the left predominantly yellow.He half expects them to stop, or at least question him as he steps forward, but they don’t, letting him step through the archway with no trouble. He stops just inside the room though, his optics wide, as he takes it in.The space is huge.The room is round, the ceiling several stories above him and made up entirely of skylights, letting the golden light of the sun filter down onto two curved staircases that start from the ground floor and arch upwards along the tower wall. They meet in the middle, the balcony lining a wall inlaid with shelves of datapads, while even more windows sit higher up, doting the round walls at regular intervals.There is a wide berth in between the staircases, complete with fluttering mesh curtains and silk pillows. Beyond that, luxurious couches and chaises spread out throughout the room, every one of them empty. There is a rippled glass door off to the side, which Megatronus assumes to be the washrack, but he doesn’t pay it much mind, his optics drawn towards the staircase on the right, where, halfway down, his gaze meets the fiery red pair of the Singer.Starscream’s servo is unmoving on the banister as he stares down at him, the blue gauze of this orn’s robe swaying minutely with a slight movements of his wings. The slits in the back leave the appendages free, but frame them beautifully.The music is only half the show, Firespark’s voice hisses at him, and he tears his optics away, glancing around the room in a quick scan to settle himself, before looking back at the Seeker. As he looks up, he catches sight of the remains of a narrowed expression, the suspicion flitting away from the mech’s face almost instantly, leaving only a serene mask behind.He hides his wince at that and bows, hoping to make up for his staring with a show of respect. “Many good orns,” he says formally, looking up at the Seeker again. “Singer Starscream, I wish to request a song.”He isn’t exactly sure the protocols for this, but Starscream doesn’t seem offended by his request, instead he tilts his helm at him, an almost thoughtful look in his optics. After a moment he blinks, and his servo tightens on the banister briefly before he begins to descend the stairs, the robe swirling around his pedes as he walks.He stays by the base of the stairs once he arrives, his optics continually pinned to his before he vents and spreads his wings, raising his chin as he opens his mouth to sing.“Incy wincy spi-der,” the notes drop jarringly out of his mouth and Megatronus blinks, taken aback by the tone. In front of him, Starscream never breaks optics with him as he continues. “Crawled up the waterspout.” His voice changes suddenly, jumping to a higher note. “Do-wn came the rain and washed the spider out.” The individual words turn choppy, as though he is venting between every one. “Up. Came. The. Sun and dried up all the rain, and the incy wincy spider crawled up the spout again.”He breaks off into humming some kind of upbeat rhythm, and Megatronus can only stare. He… he knows that song. That is a sparkling’s song. The tune isn’t quite right, but still— The Singer's voice turns choppy and syncopated again.“I said, lit’le bunny foo foo, a-hoppin’ through the forest, scooping up the field mice and bop them on the head.”He is moving slightly now, humming with the beat, his optics still on Megatronus as he sings another random sparkling rhyme, unintelligible words mixed throughout. “I said, five little monkeys, jumping on the bed, one fell off and Broke His Head!” His optics flash with the intensity of his singing, even if Megatronus can’t understand a word of it.“Mama called the doctor and the doctor said– pe-pe-pe-pe-pe Peter!” His wings flare. “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!” Megatronus feels his mouth drop open as the Seeker continues to spit off sparkling riddles at a rapid pace, his face as somber as though he were singing a funeral dirge.“And he, was so fast–” His voice drops and changes, like he is singing a second person’s part. “–was selling seashells, down by the seashore–” It changes back. “He just, wouldn’t last.”His voice suddenly goes flat, his helm tilting as he sings. “I said, imma little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout.” He flicks his optics over him, and he smirks. “When I get all steamed up, I may shout: TIP me over and pour me OUT!” Megatronus blinks at the abruptness of the last line, and the Singer continues, his voice droning strangely.“I say I’m all made of hinges cuz everything bends from the top of my head way down TO my ends.” The words go choppy again as the Singer stands tensely in front of him. “Got hinges-in-front–and-hinges-in-back, I have to be hinges or else I will CRACK!”The Seeker’s optics flash on the last word before he hums the beat again, his servo tapping against his leg. “I said I met a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name! Oh!” He scowls and glares at Megatronus, seemingly furious as he spits out the next letters almost venomously. “B, I, N, G, O. B, I, N, G, O. Be! I N G O and Bingo was his name, yo!”He finishes, venting harshly, before drawing himself up with easy dignity, staring at him with an almost challenging gleam in his optics.For his part, Megatronus is nearly speechless. He had thought the Seeker’s songs were saying something but what…? What did any of that even mean?...
16woodsequ
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