Work Text:
Enough was enough.
You decided it was time to spend more 'quality time' with your guardian. Though there was not much in common between you two to begin with, it left a lot of room for trials and errors on potential bonding moments. Ultra Magnus even offered to explain the history of how the wreckers were first formed and how he came into such a commandment position.
You do not remember much of that lecture.
In fact, you fell asleep not even twelve minutes in.
Thankfully, you used the excuse of insomnia to spare his feelings. He really couldn't place you in the wrong as he's recieved multiple calls very late at nights about your shower thoughts. You even remember your guardian hanging up and declining any further 'creative' calls one night after you were certain that the moon could be a boomerang of cheese.
Another failed experiment was taking old fashioned advice from Agent Fowler.
Fishing.
Sitting at a lake next to a giant alien robot was not ideal. Lazily twirling your fishing rod into the water, it had snagged on a much larger fish and pulled you entirely off the dock and into the liquid depths below. Ultra Magnus had to reach in to pluck out your drenched figure before you called it a day and went home.
Still, you continue to put your efforts into Ultra Magnus.
Today, you were destined to storm his quarters with a bucket of paint and a mop.
Today, you were certain you could have fun together.
Wailing outside of his room in a fake emergency, the Autobot commander had opened the door enough for you to scurry yourself past him. You bit your tongue to hold back a devious grin at your 'fake emergency' plan working so well. Careful not to spill the paint too much, you make your way to a nearby wall with your supplies as your name is shouted from behind.
Ignoring your name being addressed a second time, you set down the mop and bucket of wet paint against the wall. Trying your damnest to refrain from sticking your whole hand in the paint to slap a hand print somewhere in this giant room, you turn to face Ultra Magnus as he approaches with a not so friendly look.
Careful enough to put some distance between you two, the Autobot drops himself down to one knee and gives you a look.
Well, perhaps a glare from your earlier scheme.
"[Y/N]." He gruffly says. "I don't find it reasonable to deceive your protector of false accusations."
You give a big smile. "I am just dying to spend more quality time with my guardian through-" You dramatically gesture to the bucket and mop. "-the beauty of art!"
This earns you another stricken look.
You can't get another word out before a blue light emits from your guardian to shine through your figure. It's blinding at first when you aren't warned, but swiftly disappears into thin air after a few seconds. You blink a few times to make the white stars in your peripheral dissapear.
"The diagnostic scan hasn't revealed any dire illness to this cause. Your health chart is the same as it were last month."
"Yeah, that's great..anyways," Dismissing the commander's confusion with earthling humor, you gesture again to the bucket and mop. "Let's get artsy, pull out your inner Van Gough."
"I don't understand."
Ignoring the urge to facepalm, you kick the mop over to your oblivious guardian. "Here's your paint brush, give it a try and draw something on the wall."
Ultra Magnus stalls for a moment, realizing your artistic intent of bonding. Leaning away from the mop, the mech declines your offer of finding his inner artist. "I will not partake in any method of vandalism."
"It's your room." You argue.
"Provided by Agent Fowler's department."
"That was given to you." You retort, pulling out a drawing marker from your pocket.
You face the bland wall that made up the rest of Ultra Magnus' room and uncapped your marker. Bringing the tip to the wall, you go ahead and doodle a quick flower on it. You smile at your newest creation. "There we go."
The commander towers over your artwork. His optics allow him to see it perfectly from his position while you had to be close enough due to the poorly evolved human sight. "I will have it washed." He says, already pinging a message request to Agent Fowler for cleaning supplies.
You give a shrug, a smirk creeping on your face. "It gives you perfect opportunity to draw something on before erasing it."
There was a moment of silence.
"You are quite persistent, [Y/N]." Ultra Magnus comments, making you grin in victory.
He just knows how stubborn you can be when set on a goal.
"I am the chosen one." You mouthed the words, proud of finally reaching a new level of Autobot-Human bonding time with the second in command.
Your guardian then picks up the mop and skeptically looks it over. "What am I to create with this?"
Already doodling a smiley face next to your flower, you shrug before attempting to draw a stick figure. "Anything, really."
The mech gives a hum of acknowledgment, reaching to dip the mop into the bucket. He pauses his efforts, taking note of the chosen paint color. "This color choice of yours is.. intriguing."
You frown, wondering if you remembered correctly. "White is your favorite color, right?"
Wasn't it? Because it had reminded him about Cybertron's clean and sleek architecture before everything went up in flames. Wait, are you a terrible listener for getting his favorite color wrong?
"It is."
Deflating yourself from over thinking, you let out a relieved sigh.
That would have been super embarrassing.
You watch your guardian prepare the mop for the rather bland and boring wall of canvas. It was suitable to have such a work be done closer to the floor for future wash. With a swift movement, Ultra Magnus streaks his tiny sized paint brush of a mop across the wall. Angling his wrist, you watch in awe at his quickened speed.
If you blinked, you might have missed most of the action before Ultra Magnus pulls the damp mop away from the newly designed wall.
Wow! Its-
What is it?
Taking a few steps back, you try to get a better look at the art. It doesn't look like anything you know or can recognize from earth. "What did you paint?" You question, only seeing scribbles and whatnot.
Ultra Magnus surprisingly does not get offended. "A series of threaded intel of the first report I had written in commanding office. I converted the rhythmic coding script of the files into an intricate design for.. what registers to be art in your case."
He points to the far left corner of his confusing design. "American culture analyzes from left to right. Here are the report's sequences reconstructed enough for one to read in that order." Ultra Magnus explains, now gesturing to a few coded lines.
Your brain cramps after trying to grasp the concept.
Ultra Magnus had ultimately rewritten his first report in a way for you to read comfortably from left to right of the American style. Basically, you could read this if you had endured years upon years of Ratchet's Cybertronian culture lessons. Although the numbers layered over eachother with many symbols you cannot even fathom to understand, you can make out an autobot insignia forming itself between the spaces of coding at the top left.
You smile and shake your head lightly at the art.
Of course a mech like him would draw this.
If only it were a giant squid or unicorn. Now that would be interesting.
"It looks nice." You say, comparing your poor excuse of doodles to a masterpiece of art beyond your imagination. "I see the autobot symbol in the corner there, did your reports usually have it there like that?"
The commander dismisses your idea of being a super human genius at such an age. He places the mop into the bucket, careful not to spill or tip it over and explains. "No, there are layered encoding enough to hide the faction. Only those of Autobots are able to recognize the hidden pattern. I had downgraded the sequence measurements enough to leave it visible for the human eye."
"Oh."
Well, at least you were knowledgeable enough to see it.
Giving yourself a mental pat on the back, you gesture once more to the wall of mixed creativity. "Do you think we could mix my art style with yours?"
Ultra Magnus has no clue what you said. "Your symbols are not compatible with cybertronian."
"They're not symbols," You snort out. "It's just a flower and stick people." Making sure your marker hasn't dried out just yet, you move over to Ultra Magnus' written coding. You could mix your art with his, right? Careful not to draw over anything of his, you draw a small butterfly somewhere in the bottom spaces.
"The series will no longer register." Ultra Magnus says flatly.
"Ignore the system stuff." You wave off his concerns. "If you ignore it, then it works fine. Just think of this little guy as a friendship token. It'll remind you of our human to guardian type of bond."
The Autobot takes a moment to understand.
Ignoring the urge to slap some sense into his racing processor, you click your tongue and pitch an idea. "Try to look to it as modern earth based art. What comes to your mind when you see it that way?"
Your guardian refocuses his attention onto the wall of creation. Searching through the internet of multiple levels of the modern day art, Ultra Magnus attempts to apply the idea of human appreciation for painted art projects. "Rubble."
Rubble?
You almost choke on your intake. "Huh?"
"The human concept is limited. If you were to combine your work with mine, then it would only create a message about.." He stalls for a moment, trying to put together the right wording. "..finding hope within the struggle of navigation through negative emotion."
Damn.
This dude had roasted your entire species in just two sentences.
You give a nod in agreement, crossing your arms over your chest to mimick that of an important business person. "Rubble." You repeat, taking in the new perception.
This one is going in the scrap book. You pull your phone out and take a quick snap of the complicated coding mix with your cute little butterfly. If Ultra Magnus plans to erase this, might as well keep some rememberance of it for the future.
You could try to get an Autobot commanding officer like him to keep it.
Turning to your gurdian, you flash him a bright smile. "It looks good on your wall. Especially with the new name and meaning."
Ultra Magnus gives a thoughtful hum at that. He takes a moment to decline the incoming request from Agent Fowler's department on what needed to be cleaned from earlier. "..Perhaps there can be an acception."
That's right.
THAT'S RIGHT.
You not only brought out the artsy fartsy side of Ultra Magnus but you also convinced this stricken robot to allow the creative space to live to see another day!