"This is not what I expected when you asked me to lend you the holoform and money," Ratchet crossed his arms.
Ultra Magnus continued driving further into the base, his trailer making odd noises as the buckets of liquids within sloshed around. "You didn't expect me to buy things with money?"
"I didn't expect you to buy art supplies," Ratchet corrected. "What are you planning to do with all that junk?"
"I'm not telling you unless it turns out how I want it to," Magnus answered. "But feel free to leave sanitation devices outside of my berthroom."
Ratchet stopped and tilted his helm. "This isn't like you, Magnus."
Magnus transformed, shifting the paints so that they would fall out of his trailer onto the floor. "I am tired of people telling me who I am. Go back to work, Ratchet. I am busy."
Then he shut the berthroom door in Ratchet's face.
Magnus turned back to his berthroom and frowned deeply. This was going to take a long time. He might as well listen to war strategy records while he worked.
▪️◾◼⬛◼◾▪️
"Alias," Ultra Magnus approached the human area and stopped next to the railing. "Are you busy?"
She looked up from where she had been picking through her feathers. "What do you want?"
Magnus frowned. "I wish to show you something."
Alias stood up. "Lead the way, Stick."
"Stick?"
She shrugged. "You're usually the stick up other people's butts."
"That is repulsive."
Alias facepalmed. "You're an idiot."
Magnus flexed his jaw. He couldn't decide if the return of her annoying personality was a good mental health sign or just irritating. Rather than making a decision, he opened the door to his berthroom and allowed Alias inside.
"You suck at painting."
"I'm aware."
Alias walked further in, her eyes travelling around the room slowly as she took the art in. Magnus had painted the entire room, from floor to ceiling, in various shades of green with speckles of color splashed across in the form of birds, flowers, patches of sky, and more. Actual wood came out of some of the walls, carved into seats far above the ground. Everything was in terrible perspective and the details were atrocious, but Alias could make it out.
It looked better when she crossed her eyes and pretended it was abstract.
On the other hand, it reminded her of the old days. Back when she and her crew camped out in forests for months on end, living wild and happily in the nature. Of course, Alias had never been in the kind of jungle that Magnus made, with all the exotic birds and plants. Her homes were usually colored with dull greens and browns and sparsely populated, but it was nice to imagine it.
"Why the sudden interest in artistry?" Alias glanced back at him as she ran her fingers over a ladder leading up to a branch protruding from the wall.
Magnus sat down on his berth. "You told me that you missed your clan. I can't bring them here, or vice versa, so I tried to bring the forest here."
Alias paused. He did this for her.
Of course he did. It seemed that Magnus had all but devoted his life to her health and happiness. It grated on her nerves at times and buried her in guilt other times, but this time Alias found herself caught between deciding whether she wanted to thank him or run away.
Instead, she placed her foot on the ladder and began to climb. She wasn't sure about Magnus's ladder-making skills, but at least if she fell, her wings couldn't possibly be any more damaged.
Magnus watched her climb with a disturbed expression. His thoughts went back to Ratchet and the fact that Alias wasn't even supposed to be walking around yet. Now she was climbing a ladder.
If Ratchet knew how much Magnus was letting Alias get away with, it wouldn't be her health on the line.
Alias reached the top of the ladder and sat down on the branch, wiggling her butt in an attempt to get comfortable. Magnus pursed his derma as he watched, worried he'd not followed the proper directions during installation.
"I like it," Alias decided, looking over at him. "It is a lot taller than most trees, but a nice perch for flying. Almost makes me want to jump off."
She looked over at him, expecting some form of protest to the idea. She wasn't disappointed.
"If you tried to fly now, you would probably become a cake."
"A cake?" Alias laughed. "You mean, a pancake?"
Magnus's frown loosened at the sound of her amusement, but he still bristled. "Regardless, you would be met with a painful death."
"Not if I aim my head right," she argued.
"I don't think cushioning your head will prevent you from dying."
"No," Alias grinned. "I meant aiming my head so that I die instantly instead of painfully."
Magnus sighed. "Of course you did."
The two of them fell into silence, but this time it wasn't awkward. Alias looked around at the various paintings, ignoring the fact that Magnus was watching her.
Stalker.
"You really need to work on your painting skills," Alias told him.
"I doubt I'll need them again."
She raised an eyebrow. "Did you think you'd need them in the first place?"
Magnus glared.
Alias stood up, balancing on the branch. "You know, I think I could fly from right here. My wings are feeling better."
"They're not looking better."
"Hey!"
Magnus crossed his arms. "Sit down before you get yourself killed."
Alias's eyes twinkled mischievously. "If you let me teach you how to paint properly, I'll sit down."
He shot her a pointed look. "The intention of this gift was to remind you of home, not give you reasons to blackmail me."
"Oh, come on, Stick," Alias pleaded. "Nobody is here but you, me, and Ratchet. Can't you have a little fun?"
"Fun?" Magnus asked skeptically. "Your idea of fun is usually illegal or against someone's direct orders."
"Well, there are no orders to defy now, are there?"
"You've broken at least ten since you walked into my room," Magnus stated.
Alias chuckled. "You outrank him."
"I'm a civilian."
She burst out laughing. "Civilian? You? Even if there was never a war, you'd be much more than a civilian. Magnus, have you met yourself?"
"Without any military rank, I hold no legal positions, which would make me a–"
"Oh please," Alias rolled her eyes. "Legal or not, you've got the aura of authority and the skills to back it up. The moment something goes wrong, I have no doubt you'd step and boss everyone around. It's who you are."
Magnus furrowed his brows. "I'm not sure mental authority gives me power over Ratchet's legal status as a medic."
"Well, at least you're not certain I'm wrong," she shrugged. "Does this mean you'll let me teach you to paint?"
"Fine," Magnus grumbled.
She grinned and scrambled down the ladder. Magnus waited until she was nearing the ground before he stood up and pulled the supplies together.
The lesson didn't turn out to be that bad. At first, he was a bit embarrassed to have this small, nearly criminal human teaching him how to do something. But Alias wasn't him, and she took the position of authority with far more grace. Her words held connotations of encouragement, support, and mostly humor.
Her jokes weren't funny, but she enjoyed herself. Magnus took careful note of her instructions and found that each figure he painted grew steadily better. There were techniques and patterns to painting that made the art more complicated, but more successful.
It gave him perspective. Ultra Magnus found that he could offer more respect to bots who worked in other trades. Their jobs were not as stupid as he imagined.
But they were still pointless... for the most part.
Alias herself wasn't exactly a wonderful painter, but she was good enough to teach him the basics.
"How did you first learn to do this?" Magnus questioned as he watched her paint a lizard on his pede.
"School," Alias answered thoughtlessly. "We got to paint a lot in the younger grades."
Magnus tilted his helm. "What are younger grades?"
"Well, school is divided up into age groups so everyone can learn what is best for them," Alias explained. "I don't really know much about the older grade levels, since I ran away in fourth grade."
"Ah," Magnus nodded. "So you were unable to learn without these school levels?"
She shrugged. "I found other ways to learn what was important."
"Or maybe you didn't," Magnus hummed. "That's why you're stupid."
"Pfffttt!" Alias rolled backwards and cackled. "I'm rubbing off on you!"
He frowned. "I was being serious."
Alias looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and cheeks drawn high with a wide smile. "Whatever floats your boat."
"Energon."
"Oh dear," Alias patted his pede with a smile of mock pity. "It's worse than I thought."
"What's worse?"
"Your absolute failure to comprehend semantics," she replied. "I'll have to tell Ratchet so he can knock some sense into you."
"If sense can be beaten into someone, I'm going to need to hit you a few times," Magnus told her.
She snickered. "At least you got that one."
Magnus chuckled.