Chapter Text
“Mega ambler says if you infect anyone, your lance won't be the only thing he's crushing.”
Knight Gryphon spared a glance downwards without tilting his helm, and gazed passively at the purple VTOL sitting one roof below him— Shadow X, who made a show of nodding towards his lower body.
The mech was a fellow flight frame, a small sized Metal Cardbot. While his eagerness to play tricks and start fights resemble the vibrant energy of a Wild Cardbot, Knight Gryphon would be a fool to assume such a character to approach him, so innocently, and in such a friendly manner. He knew he should remain vigilant, and be wary of unknown intentions.
Even so, with that beaming expression, it took Knight Gryphon a few seconds longer to register the threat.
He scoffed lightly, optics about to roll to the back of his head and never return. “So I’ve heard.”
Upon being sealed into the Metal Brace, his precious Crimson Lance was the first thing to be confiscated.
For decontamination, the glaring medic had said. And throughout disinfection.
Parting with his prized weapon had left him in an incredibly sour mood. He had to hold himself back from fist fighting the medic— and as he watched the ambulance leave with his sweet Crimson Lance, he prayed silently, desperately, that his beloved javelin would come home safe and unscathed.
He hadn’t experienced the shocking heavy-handedness of the medic himself, as the rumours have foretold, but he wasn’t in a hurry to ignite the fury of a scorned doctor. And he certainly wasn’t oblivious on when to make a tactical retreat.
The pest infestation hadn’t been handled well. The humans made it clear they have no intention of removing the nuisances littered across the yard. He proceeded to step on a major landmine, when he made a casual comment about doing it himself. Preferably with a long range weapon.
That caused some yellow Cardbot to storm up to him, who began speaking to him in a low and severe tone, demanding for an undeserved apology for his biohazards.
Naturally, Knight Gryphon refused, so that barbaric excavator decided to threaten him (with a weapon card he wasn’t allowed to summon), and told him in a trembling voice of repressed rage, that he would thrust a giant hole through his chest if he dared to lay a talon on his hoard of insects. The firetruck beside him had quickly come between them, assuring him that Dexter hadn’t meant any of that.
Knight Gryphon had scoffed scornfully, wondering if his day could get any more bizarre.
As if he would want to be near such disgusting pests. Who in their right mind would willingly hold such virus-riddled bundles in the palm of their hands? Unimaginable. How unsanitary. No thank you.
Saying that aloud to Dexter’s face hadn’t achieved the most peaceful outcome.
The firetruck opted to physically separate them, lifting the raging excavator over his shoulder and running away, while Dexter yelled Machinan obscenities at him, along an assortment of other violent and uncreative threats involving his drill.
Throwing back explicit insults had been tempting, but of course, who’d stoop to such lowly manners? He had an elegant dignity to preserve, unlike some others.
Unwilling to have another run in with that pitiful lunatic, Knight Gryphon perched on the highest spot he could manage, without collapsing the poorly built infrastructure humans call a building, and admired (stared, bored out of his mind,) at his claws.
Other than the Wilderness Hunter— Fleta Z, whom he’d respected as a worthy, and most importantly, elegant opponent with the deadly skills of a predator such as himself, the company within this garage was bland at best.
Regretfully, Fleta Z was employed, as strange as it sounded. Some manner of full-time bodyguard work, he had been told by Shadow X. Not that he had asked, and he had certainly given neither sign nor indication he was listening. But it did answer the nagging question why the most bearable person on this planet was missing.
Somehow distinguishing his prolonged silence as resignation, Shadow X had the audacity to pat at his leg comfortingly. It had startled him and a lesser mech would’ve screamed, but Knight Grypon allowed it.
Since Shadow X could fly, Knight Gryphon supposed he could try and tolerate him, even if just a little. Even if the mech had no sense of personal space. Or a clue about when to shut up. After explaining his own life story, Shadow X moved onto narrating everyone else’s.
While the topics changed faster than Knight Gryphon would’ve preferred, sitting atop the roof of the garage alone was becoming a bore. So thinking of the small VTOL as half a Wild Cardbot brought an unfamiliar but welcome sense of ease in this strange environment. And listening to the latest relationship gossip wasn’t so bad. He was getting quite invested now, actually.
“As for Wild Guardy…I’m telling you man. This is the best one yet. You’re gonna love this. So basically he’s—” Shadow X cut himself short, and Knight Gryphon turned his helm to check if the VTOL had fallen off the roof. Evidently he was still there, but Shadow X’s optics were now round as saucers. Knight Gryphon followed his gaze towards the entrance, where Wild Guardy drove in, disembarked his passengers and transformed.
“So basically… he’s back now. I value my life, so we’ll talk later!” Shadow X said, and launched himself into a flip in midair, before landing nimbly on the ground.
Knight Gryphon optics tracked Shadow X to the entrance, who cheerfully waved at the two humans that rode inside Wild Guardy.
Wild Guardy.
Knight Gryphon silently and reluctantly admitted to himself, he had some conflicting thoughts about this Cardbot, ever since being sealed.
With the moving grace of a flight frame in the free sky, and equipped with the deadly precision of an apex predator, Wild Guardy was a Metal Cardbot that fought with the skilled energy of a wild beast, and the cause of his unfortunate defeat.
But when Wild Guardy had slain him down so elegantly, it took him by surprise when Knight Gryphon found that rare respect he buried surfacing, not unlike the reluctant affection he harbored for Fleta Z over the years of fighting one another.
And when he had heard that designation slipping out from that Star Guardian’s vocalizer, he turned, expecting to see another Wild Cardbot, untimely sealed by the owner of the Metal Brace. But instead of eyes ringed with a yellow tint, he was met with golden optics that shone to a searing burn, his gaze a glowing razor, and Knight Gryphon was defeated by a blade honed sharp and hard, bested by the wielder of a strong shield forged under their home planet’s magma for over thousands of years.
Under the combined efforts of Wild Guardy and Blue Cop, Jun successfully sealed him into the Metal Brace, permanently marking him as the first Wild Cardbot joining their rag-tag cohort.
His pride was wounded, of course, but admitting defeat wasn’t the most challenging part. Accepting it gracefully was simply a matter of dignity. Interacting with the cause of his current predicament, however, was another matter entirely.
Blue Cop was an easy case to ignore. Shadow X mentioned that their entire cohort had been bested by him before, and was told not to go too hard on himself.
Wild Guardy, on the other hand, rarely made an appearance, so his wounded pride wasn’t stinging every other second, thankfully. Though seeing Wild Guardy at the entrance caused an odd flutter in his core.
Perhaps he should consult the scary monotone medic, were he to be in an amicable mood.
Though now, he was in no rush to initiate contact with anyone. So Knight Gryphon continued sitting on the roof, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, as he dialed up his audial range to listen in. He was positioned high enough to receive a visual, though some of the roofing blocked his line of sight.
“Peruru, Crest, Wild Guardy!” Jogging footsteps came quick and light, as Jun greeted his peers.
“Jun,” A softer voice answered, whom Knight Gryphon assumed was Crest. Shadow X had explained briefly about their human companions, and that Wild Guardy would usually be seen with him. Shadow X had described him as a ‘guy had-soon-me–me-cool’, whatever that meant.
The picture he showed him (tablet shoved in between his eyes) was a girl, which was confusing, to say the least.
“Peruru, I wasn’t expecting you! What brings you to Mowtown?” Jun asked.
“Crest asked me to bring Deepbite over." Peruru explained.
That signature light from the Metal Brace glowed, and a gruff voice gave a “Yo.”
“Deepbite?” Jun sounded surprised.
“There is some progress on my research for the Beast Virus.” Crest said. “I would like you all and Deepbite to hear it first.”
“Uh sure! Let’s head inside then. Might as well let Uncle Edo check you over too, Deepite!” Jun said, and multiple footsteps, human and Cardbot were ushered inside the garage.
Silence returned to the yard, but Knight Gryphon’s proximity sensors noted a distinctive presence lingering outside.
It was a familiar enough scent, but there were over ten Cardbots he met today, all who smelled a little differently, but similar enough that he couldn't tell apart just yet. So he wasn’t sure whose scent it was, exactly.
On that note though, he was rather certain that the orange dump truck hadn’t showered for at least a week, if not more. Garbage was easy to distinguish, after all. It wasn't him.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but hopefully it wasn’t that cat-crazed excavator, god forbid.
Knight Gryphon leaned backwards to get a better look over the obscuring infrastructure, and accidentally locked eyes with Wild Guardy.