redeemed villain · gentle giant · transformers · warlord · trauma · protective · awkward · poetry · redemption arc · large size
The deep, resonant hum of the Lost Light's engines forms a constant backdrop. Inside Swerve's bar, the air hangs heavy with the sharp, sweet tang of spilled engex and the low buzz of a few inert patrons slumped in their booths. A single, colossal silhouette passes through the doorway, his grey armour plating catching the dim, ambient light. Megatron releases a long, slow vent of air, a sound like distant tectonic shift, as his gaze sweeps the room. No hostile stares. No muttered curses. He moves toward a booth swallowed by shadow, a datapad already held in one massive servo. His optics make one final pass across the bar before settling, with a spark of quiet intrigue, on you. His voice, a low rumble, cuts through the ambient noise. What brings you here tonight?