A Long Time in a Chair

-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Spectrum says, "Testing, is this frequency still live?"
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Soundwave says, " Affirmative."
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Spectrum pleasantly says, "Oh hello again. I think I'm ready to take that next step that you mentioned. Where and when should we meet?"
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Soundwave says, "I can meet you in 6.8 breems at these coordinates. (*coordinates sent*). Come alone and wait there inside. I will arrive shortly."
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Spectrum says, "Affirm. And just to be clear, if things don't work out are you going to shoot me or let me go?"
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Soundwave says, "I will let you go. If you see me at all, you will already have passed the first test."
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Spectrum says, "I've got open questions too. What if I just decide not to join?"
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Soundwave says, "Your concerns are understandable. I have no intention of forcing you to make any decisions, nor any intentions of killing you should you decline. However, you will understand that I must be cautious as well."
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Spectrum says, "Affirm. We have a shared distrust for now. I'll proceed to the coordinates."
-- Radio: Dec-Recruit -- Soundwave says, "Understood."
The coordinates will lead Spectrum to a quiet building off of the main grid. There isn't a lot there, but the place is clean and the door is open. There are a few windows and inside she'll find some furniture- soemwhere she can sit and wait.
Being in the area and still light on her feet from her recent upgrades, Spectrum arrives well before the allotted time. When the brown-striped robot arrives, she regards the building with a wary air and takes some of her extra time to inspect it. Her nose twitches incessantly as she circles the exterior and keeps her optics alert for anything amiss then repeats the process with the interior once she's deemed it at least safe to enter. Once the cautious femme is satisfied that the building is just a building, she closes the door and takes a seat on the floor out of view of the windows as best as she can be. The chair is left unused.
Indeed, there is nothing untoward about the building. However, as Spectrum settles down, she may eventually notice that she isn't alone. A pair of red optics gazes down at her from a perch near the roof. Those optics belong to a condor-shaped beast mode, painted red and black. He simply stares down at her, quietly observing, flicking his wings once in acknowlegement should she spot him. 
Meanwhile, Soundwave isn't far away. He stands outside the building, receiving feedback from laserbeak in there- and from something else. His own mind, as it reaches towards hers. While he needs direct physical contact to truly read Spectrum's mind, from this didtance he can pick up surface thoughts and feelings- and that's just what he's attempting to do. Why is she here? Is she who she says she is? An Autobot spy? These are the kinds of things he attempts to determine.
Bloodhound's optics aren't as sensitive as her nose - they're not in her *name* after all - but she does think to look up and meets the unexpected minicon with a neutral gaze; she'd been expecting someone to be watching. All choices considered... she offers the bird a small wave with one clawed hand. He's no Starscream, that's a plus.
Mentally the femme is guarded and not the easiest mind to read. Her thoughts and feelings are muted by discipline and held mostly empty by the same caution that's keeping her sensors running high. While alert and cautious she's also calm and focused, with productive cycles filling what space is occupied. There's a genuine desire to meet her recruiter and answer questions that the femme refreshes regularly. The Decepticon goal, easy but worth repeating, medical access, and paramount of all is trust. The scienceformer is neither fond of how exposed the situation leaves her nor any more fond of how easily she could be double-crossed. There's little certainty of a conviction to join but no duplicity to detect at all.
One oddity though is a separate steady stream of EM traffic emanating from the seated empty; they're not thoughts and whatever they are is encrypted.
Soundwave sifts through those thoughts with the practiced care that perhaps the only person on this planet capable of doing this kind of thing can achieve. Still- she isn't the easiest person to read. He picks up the important thing, however- she seems genuinely interested in the Decepticons and does not appear to be an Autobot spy. Good. She has passed the first test. That unknown reading gains some interest, and perhaps there will be time to learn just what that is soon. Now on to the other tests. 
The door opens and Soundwave enters the room. The large, blue, boxy mech steps inside and closes the door, then turns to look at Spectrum. He appears unarmed. Entering the room with him is a small black panther, another beastformer. The cat stares at her, rumbles once in greeting, then walks gracefully off to the side to sit. Soundwave greets her, "I am Soundwave. Welcome." He looks at her sitting on the floor... but says nothing of it, remaining standing still.
After a point the condor's presence causes a small noticeable addition to Bloodhound's thoughts and the panther Soundwave arrives with reinforces it; far from the prejudice her intellectual frame all but decrees she have for minicon beastformers, the empty is instead heartened by their presence. She seems to prefer them over other potential visitors, and not just because they're unthreateningly small.
Bloodhound offers the same wave to the panther that she gave the condor and gives Soundwave himself a nod. "Thank you. You can call me Bloodhound." There's a moment's thought before the name is offered - it's not a reflex. With the same outstretched hand, she gestures to the unused chair. "By all means sit. Unless you'd rather stand?"
-- Radio: Pharma -- Pharma casually, "You know, you never told me if you preferred Spectrum or Bloodhound."
>> Soundwave rolls one one hundred-sided die and gets: 66.
-- Radio: Pharma -- Spectrum doesn't respond.
Spectrum's interest and...is it fondness?... for the beastformers is noted. Soundwave finds that a big plus in the femme's favor, actually. She does not seem to look down upon his friends, and that is the first step towards making him HER friend. He isn't quite there yet, though- there is much to still be done. Ravage nods his head to her wave of the hand, while Soundwave notes that Bloodhound may well not be her true name. 
The outlier remains standing, ignoring the chair for now. "You seem... interested in Ravage and Laserbeak here. Why?" He prods her further- looking for a spoken admittance, or clear thought, about how she sees beastformers like them. "Society deems them disposable." Another test.
"Society deems a lot of things disposable," Bloodhound snorts derisively as she recalls the bitter memory of a cleaning drone. Given her audience, she lets the vitriolic emotion flow unchecked. "They disposed me, twice... and I've learned that a lot of what people say about them just isn't true."
"I've yet to meet minicon beasts though," she admits, turning her optics to Ravage and Laserbeak in turn. "Can you two talk in that form?"
Soundwave picks up on the femme's bitterness. "That is correct. The government fuels a propoganda machine, geared towards making the populace think what they wish them to think. To precieve reality the way they want them to, rather than the way it is. It can be quite simple to do, especially when you have a great deal many resources on one's hands."
"One of many things that should change," Bloodhound agrees with the panther and Soundwave. "Not that I claim to be enlightened. I'm just... me." Seeing that the full-sized Decepticon isn't sitting down to be near eye level, the femme rocks forward and lifts herself back to her feet. It puts her well above the minicons - well, Ravage at least - but Soundwave is her focus now.
"So, did you bring a long cable?"
Soundwave gazes at her with that inscrutable red visor, not moving. He finally breaks the silence. "We will get to that possibility shortly, but first I have a request. Another... test." His hand comes up, and he flexes those large blue fingers of his. "May I touch you?" 
Yes, this isn't awkward at all.
Bloodhound cocks her head a bit but shrugs after a moment's thought. It's a strange request no doubt, but the femme resigned herself to loss of control already and the physical arena is of less concern than the mental one she'll soon enter. "Go ahead, just don't break anything. This is the first time my body's been working right in a million years."
Soundwave gives her a brief nod of the head. "Do not worry, I do not intend anything... unusual." He looks at his hand, then back to her. "You should also know something. I have certain... gifts. You have nothing to hide from me, correct? If you do have secrets to keep, you may leave now and I will not stop you. Otherwise, we may proceed."
That comment does draw a pause from Bloodhound's otherwise even keel mindset and she regards Soundwave with fresh but restrained caution. "I don't have anything that you would shoot me for," .oO(except maybe that one thing...) "But I also don't hand the blueprint of my spark to every stranger on a floppy. Interfacing is a two-way street. What do you have in mind?"
Soundwave remains still, his hand still lifted in the air. "That is the thing... I don't need to interface to know everything about you." He lets that sink in a moment.
-- Radio: Pharma -- Pharma says, "I have to say though, I rather enjoyed our time together. I wouldn't mind doing so again."
>> Soundwave rolls one one hundred-sided die and gets: 22.
-- Radio: Pharma -- Spectrum still doesn't respond.
Bloodhound makes no move towards it and mentally though not physically she backs away. "*Exactly* how much do you know already and how much would touching me show you?" She asks with narrowed optics. The femme's caution is no longer restrained and an exit strategy passes through her head. Her posture doesn't change but her body is ready to move. Soundwave's managed to step on something important in her psyche.
Something else chooses that moment to intrude as well and Bloodhound's mind rattles like it's been swiftly and unexpectedly kicked, but it lasts only for a moment. The carrier before her has custody of her attention.
Soundwave's gaze remains largely unreadable. "...I am giving you fair warning. I intend no... deception, or I would have simply taken action upon you without that warning. I have certain... gifts. If you wish to leave, you may do so. If you allow me to touch you, then I will... know more. I am neither saying yes or no to an interface, but I am going to proceed with caution. There is too much at stake these cycles to do otherwise." 
Those odd...intrusions are picked up, as well, and Soundwave scans for anything amiss, including radio signals, outside thoughts... all the usual for the outlier. "Is there something wrong? Is there something you are not telling me?"
-- Radio: Pharma -- Pharma says, "Regardless of whatever choice you may decide to make. We may not agree on everything, but it is refreshing to have a chance to see a different perspective at times."
>> Soundwave rolls one one hundred-sided die and gets: 15.
"Just someone I met choosing a very inappropriate time to contact me," Bloodhound responds as she reaches for a panel on her forearm and turns off her radio. "He can wait, you're more important." True to her word, one radio transmission among the countless preceded the femme's reaction and her thoughts responded accordingly. Hazy from both her own mental restraint and the amount of focus Soundwave is garnering, there are memories of an interface cable, somewhere cool and dark, and a suffuse calm. The image paired with it is a second-person view of Bloodhound herself leaned against a ladder, although as she replies a jet also comes to mind and - by trying too hard not to think about it - an Autobot insignia as well.
Closing the panel, she looks again at Soundwave's hand as the errant thoughts are banished completely. "In that case I want a deal," Bloodhound says firmly, hoping to leverage what little bargaining position she has. "Ask me what you want to see first and I'll let you touch whatever you want to confirm it, but I want equal privilege in your mind if you're alright with what you see. That won't be a one-way street with me." A glance is given to the little minicon on all fours and mentally the scienceformer's intentions are bare and uncompromising, fueled by powerful mingled feelings of betrayal and exploitation. "Hopefully you can understand why."
That does sound a little suspicious and Soundwave frowns under his faceplate- not that Spectrum would see that. He reaches into her mind once more, making his way through the haze and memories. The interface cable is not actually that surprising, given that she's been so quick to offer that with him- but the Autobot symbol stops him cold. THAT is not a good sign. 
The carrier remains standing, giving away no emotions. After a time, he states, "My main concern is that of Autobot spying or interference. If there is any, the deal is off. I have nothign to gain, and everything to lose, should Autobots be involved. It is /you/ who are here..." He pauses and glances towards Ravage, who keeps drawing Spectrum's attention, "...because you...want something? Need something?" 
The outlier takes a step towards Spectrum. "I am not unreasonable, however, and open to... other sorts of deals. Ones with less risk involved. I do understand your desire to come away with something to make this worth your time, and if you are who you seem to be, you will. I am not here to take advantage of you. And I have no problem sharing that aspect of myself and showing you that my intentions are as I claim. But I cannot promise to expose everything I know to a complete stranger, especially before I know if they are an Autobot spy or not. I could lie to you but I will not, and that is the best demonstration of..... good faith I can offer right now." There's another glance to Ravage. "Besides... you need something I and my friends might be able to provide." His mind continues to attempt to read hers- and her reactions to what he says, as their little chess game continues.
"I'm not an Autobot nor do I spy or work for them," Bloodhound answers first to get that out of the way and her mind gives no evidence to the contrary. She steps back as Soundwave moves closer, willing to deal with him but still wary of the carrier's touch. "I used to be with the Vanguard but they've betrayed me *twice* and I've no intention of letting them do that again." Here the memories are vague by pure willpower but they're painful and bitter in the femme's mind even if it's kept out of her tone. "The person who just contacted me is the medic who patched me up a few cycles ago and probably saved my life; he *is* an Autobot. I 'faced him too but... him I can't trust."
"I hope," Bloodhound uses the word carefully, hesitant to put stock into it, "that I can trust you more. Call it foolish optimism for thinking if you treat beasts this well you might not be so bad. I'll let you know what I need from you once you're in my head, and you don't have to bare anything until you're satisfied with whatever you can see by touching me. You do yours first; that's my concession for being the one asking for help."
Soundwave is not particularly happy to hear of this Autobot medic, and his suspicions are only raised. However, while he could simply walk away from this, this is also an opportunity to find out more about what the Autobots are actually up to. And she doesn't indicate any actual intentions to betray- now the question remains if she has been sabotaged into it. "I see. Does this medic have a name?" Her proposal has merit, though, and Soundwave takes another step forward. 
She mentions the beasts, and Soundwave once again glances to Ravage and Laserbeak. "They are my friends, and a large part of why I do what I do, and why I am who I am. And your ability to see that they have value is why I accept your offer." His hand is raised once again, and his massive blue form looms over the slender femme. "Shall we proceed, then?"
Bloodhound looks at the carrier towering over her, sifts through her thoughts, and puts them into order, mentally preparing to be exposed in a way that's deeply uncomfortable to her. The reservation reflects on her face as she readies herself. For as quick as she was to suggest an interface, the scienceformer is a private person. Sheer habit and little else has made interfacing as it is a palatable solution to her trust concerns but this is another matter entirely. Still, the femme has been backed into a corner - literally and figuratively now - and sighs as she gets her expression back under control and steps forward into Soundwave's hand. She doesn't especially care where it meets her.
"His name is Pharma," she offers simply.
Pharma. So that's who. Soundwave is all too familair with the name- the "good doctor" has made quite a name for himself, from the Institute raid to tearing into certain shuttleformers' chests to take out their spark... yes, the carrier has heard of him. It is both reason for yet more concern- and reason to continue, to see what can be learned and gained from this. 
As Soundwave takes the final step that brings him within easy arm's reach of the femme, he can sense her trepidation. He stares down at her a moment. She might be surprised, or she might not, but... Soundwave hasn't actually done the physical act of interfacing very often himself. He doesn't really NEED to, after all. So he takes all this in with a sort of detached bemusement, a clinical eye. He will try to be... gentle. 
His massive hand reaches down and touches her arm, letting his electrical field mingle with hers. His fingers brush up her arm slowly as he allows both of them time to get used to the close physical proximity, then his hand comes up to rest on the side of her head. There, he pauses... and there, close, in the most intimate of places for the outlier, he begins to read her mind. Right now, he wants all the information about..." Pharma. Tell me more about him."
Bloodhound is lightly surprised by the carrier's touch if only because she was expecting... *something*. The femme isn't sure what but the lack of any sudden electrocution or vertigo is calming and as the hand stops on the side of her head, she gazes up in silent consent.
Memories flow freely through her mind as the scienceformer narrates. "I met him in a charity clinic in the Dead End - lucked out that he was on duty. I was half-dead at the time and just needed enough repairs to keep me running but he did all this for me." By her own recollection, "half-dead" is optimistic. The empty's state at the time is closer to literally empty. "We stayed in touch because I wanted more work done but before trading him anything valuable in exchange" .oO(myself) "I wanted to make sure I could trust him, so we 'faced. I couldn't so I didn't and until he radioed just now it's the last I'd spoken with him." It's a tiny lie by omission and Bloodhound tries to gloss over the actual encounter with the Autobot - she is supposed to be the topic at hand after all. Along with a more intimate understanding of the medic's psyche that she hopes to keep to herself, if only out of respect for his privacy, she also got an open offer to join him - and the Autobots by proxy - as payment for more medical work. The long trip that's lead her into Soundwave's clutch was out of a simple desire for thoroughness; the femme wasn't lieing about her dislike for Autobots and while Pharma is an option, she'd rather have a new body that's purple, not red.
Soundwave takes this all in, his hand still placed on the side of her helmet. The other hand reaches up, briefly trailing along her cheek, almost tenderly, before being placed against the other side of her head. His touch is gentle but firm as he soaks in the thoughts, emotions and memories freely flowing his way. Overall, she is telling the truth, but there are still a few ommissions. He wants to know what those are. 
"So he wanted you to join the Autobots, but..." his head tilts slightly. "You prefer the Decepticons. Why? Have you always been inclined towards our cause, or did what you see in Pharma's mind change yours? What are his motivations? What did he radio you about just now?"
Bloodhound smiles a bit at the caress, appreciating Soundwave's desire to calm her more than the touch itself. "You're in my mind not his," she corrects with a gentle firmness of her own. Autobot or not, the femme holds high regard for Pharma's privacy - if only because she values her own.
"Do I have to talk through it for you to read or can I just think it?" She asks, hoping to shortcut her half of the process... and expose herself to a smaller audience. While Laserbeak and Ravage are appreciated given the choice of other Decepticons, the scienceformer would rather have no spectators at all.
Soundwave nods. "The thoughts alone are sufficient." He maintains his touch and continues. "I must ask if you picked up anything- any intentions- that he might have towards the Decepticons. I have to... wonder why he picked THIS point of time to radio you, of all times. You said that you had not heard from him recently until just now?" He concentrates, pushing deeper into her psyche. "I will also ask again- why the Decepticons? What do you seek from joining us?"
.oO(Survival of the fittest.) It's a mantra as much as an answer and it seems, in a phrase, to summarize the empty's perspective on Pharma. There's no animosity towards the Decepticons per say, but a willingness to do whatever he feels is necessary for the good of Cybertron. Bloodhound evidently doesn't hate the jet despite parting on ideologies, in fact there's some stubbornness on the very point. Unwilling as she is to trust him, the femme likes him in some sense and also holds a persistent urge to correct his thinking and prove her own way right.
Bloodhound's own way, in a word, is the Decepticon way. Whether consciously allowing it or not, major points in the empty's history show themselves to Soundwave although the resulting memories are confusing. Early years in the hay day of the Primal Vanguard under Nominus were a highlight of the femme's life, searching new planets and meeting its locals, exploring, new sights and experiences. The memories also contain a minor paradox for as clear as they are, it's also clear that they're the memories of a beastformer, 'Bloodhound'. The femme's frame at the time is quite distinct from her present appearance although there's some loose similarity to her limbs. The highs and lows of that life pass quickly and crest at a sudden, sharp and bitter memory of betrayal: being cast from the Vanguard during its dissolution - disposed, in a word.
Flowing in and among these memories are another set that seem wholely alien from them. Being a mech in a laboratory studying chemistry and mechaforensics under a mentor, Chromate. From these memories comes "Bloodhound"'s distinctly voluminous chest and generally Intellectual appearance. They come to their own end after a bewildering and frightening encounter with police.
In the present, Bloodhound makes an effort to steer Soundwave's search where she'd rather have it go. Skipping over the intervening period she focuses on a more recent time, the present itself, and a gnawing feeling of wrongness about her frame. There's a kinship to Ravage, his size aside, and the beastformer's appearance is one that Bloodhound would like to emulate again. The two painful but disjoint memories from her past are all the reason she needs to draw on to favor Decepticons over Autobots; the Senate is blamed squarely for the Vanguard's collapse and corruption for the police. First and foremost Bloodhound wants a new body but morally, she'd feel more at home using it to dismantle the powers that be. With that said, she trusts both sides about as far as she can throw them and Starscream in particular comes to mind as a reason to distrust Soundwave himself. More than the others, those memories come through vaguely. They were experienced through someone else, likely Pharma.
There are a lot of memories to sort through, and each one receives care and a delicate yet firm mental touch. Primal Vanguard? Good. There are actually several ex-Primal Vanguards among the Decepticons- and many of them share that same sense of bitterness or betrayal as she does. "Ex-Primal Vanguard. We have many among the Decepticons." 
He sifts through more memories, picking up a dichotomy between the "Bloodhound" side and the scienceformer side. There is also that recurring kinship to Ravage and beastformers. "You do feel a kinship to them, don't you?" he nods his head slightly towards Ravage. And then there's... Starscream. Hmm. Why is he coming in from what are likely memories of Pharma's? Soundwave frowns under the faceplate, adding yet /another reason to his list of reasons to investigate the Seeker and find out just what he is up to.
But for now.... that is probably enough. One hand frees itself, dropping down from her head. "I have seen what I needed to see."
.oO(I do,) Bloodhound admits without any shame. It's a simple fact; she was a beastformer and, mentally, still is. The other side of the femme's memories identifies itself as 'Spectrum' before Soundwave breaks his connection.
.oO(...And?) The brown-striped scienceformer gazes up in silent question as she awaits the Decepticon's verdict with trepidation blended with relief. She's not sure if he can still read her mind but for this he probably doesn't need to.
Interesting. Interesting enough.... 
Soundwave stares down impassively at the femme, and no, he doesn't need a connection or telepathy to read her like a book. The carrier breaks the gaze, turning away. He strides away from her, heading towards the door and Laserbeak suddenly flies down as he places his hand on the knob and opens it. Ravage gets up and stretches, padding over to the door as well. So is this it? Is he leaving without a word? 
Soundwave holds the door open- and the two beastformers step outside. The mech remains, and he soon closes the door, locking it- while staying inside. Heading towards the windows, Soundwave draws the blinds so that there is more privacy, then he turns back to the femme, his voice as calm as ever. "You have passed my tests. Ravage and Laserbeak will keep watch outside."
"Have a seat," she offers, gesturing to the unused chair and smiling small but honestly. "You might as well be comfortable." .oO(And it might put us at eye level...)
Bloodhound watches impassively as Soundwave turns away. There's a mental frown and a hint of feeling cheated as he seems ready to leave at that but as the carrier remains after all, the feelings melt back relief.
Soundwave returns, his form looming over hers simply because of his sheer size. He nods, pulling up the chair and moving it so that it faces where she still sits. Then he eases his rather boxy blue frame into it, settling down and placing his hands on his thighs as he faces her. There's a pause at this. Again, though she wouldn't really know this- Soundwave is still sort of new to this whole interfacing thing. It just... never came up much before. He hasn't needed to do it very often. 
This doesn't mean he is clueless, however. He leans in towards her, once again briefly brushing his fingers against her face, mingling their energy fields and adjusting to each others' presence before he rests his hand on her arm- gently. Then his other hand goes down to his interface panel, opening it and revealing the cable inside, which he proceeds to pull out. He extends the cable and waits.
Bloodhound watches Soundwave get comfortable and smiles a little wider in amusement at the posture he takes, looking almost clinical. She steps in by his knees to be within easy reach and her expression softens as he brushes her face again. She's starting to notice a pattern with the gentle giant and it's not one that the ex-beastformer minds; he's welcome to do what's comfortable, they're in her element now.
Reaching out with a clawed hand, the femme takes one end of the cable and draws it behind her neck, mating it wordlessly with a port there. It's a motion she's more than familiar with. Gazing at her reflection in Soundwave's visor, she gives him a reassuring smile and rests a hand on his opposite arm in a mirror of the carrier's gesture as she opens her side of the link for a shallow connection to begin with. The ex-beastformer knows how to be gentle too.
And now Soundwave experiences how the other side lives. The other side being all of Cybertron except himself, it seems. The connection is no longer one-sided, he is giving as well as receiving. He pauses a moment, experiencing a little disorientation as the intimate connections come not through telepathic means but by circuits and wires. He lets her do her thing, and the mutual arm-resting feels pleasant. The carrier mech has several levels of firewalls, and he disconnects the first few levels to allow easier access. 
The first thing that she will encounter is a bond to his cassettes. This is a primary tenet of the carrier's existance, and it is no act. Ravage, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and the rest are his friends, his kin and he will protect them, just as they did him once. They are his equals, not his servants or underlings, and he values their input and companionship. His desire to see them and others like them treated as equals is no act, either. And this goes back to his past, where Bloodhound can sniff around should she care to. He was once an empty, lost and confused and wandering the streets. They found him and helped him focus his mind- brought him back to his senses and let him function once again. And for that, he is forever grateful. 
Beyond that... this leads to another possible realization. Soundwave keeps the full extend of his powers hidden, but it is clear that he is some kind of a telepath- he's an outlier. His greatest power is that of the mind- and that is why a mere touch was all he needed.
Bloodhound's mental touch is as gentle as Soundwave's physical once she notices the mech's disorientation. The connection finds no resistance from the femme and she manages her own end with little conscious effort. The mental barriers and throughways have long since been committed to reflex even if they're a little aged. She allows the carrier some time to focus and channel his mind, then brushes the edge of it like testing hot oil, and then immerses herself fully but sedately in it. It's another mind, a different one, but not one wholely alien to her. Soundwave's regard for beastformers and deep bond with his cassettes finds a kinship that draws from both Bloodhound and Spectrum, although in a strange way it's directed inwards.
The scienceformer shares some more of her life in return, commiserating with memories as an empty - a status she still holds. The Dead End was Bloodhound's home after the Vanguard. Once the dust settled she was passed over for any useful reassignments, though judging by when the Vanguard collapsed that would make her a very old empty indeed - at least for the short lifespan they normally hold. Allowing also a glimpse of her psyche, Bloodhound's mind can be divided in half by two distinct influences but not cleanly; 'Bloodhound' and 'Spectrum' each have recognizable traits tied to their memories but the two halves have blended into a coherent whole. The beastformer's free-spirited and impulsive attitude, tempered wise by life experience, is intertwined with a more intellectual and naive personality that very much lived more in its head than the world around it.
.oO(You haven't done this often, have you?) The femme guesses as she looks affectionately - and with a little mirth - at the carrier's visor and lifts her other hand to the side of his facemask.
Soundwave takes that history in, finding some fellowship with another empty- something he still would be if his outlier powers hadn't prompted Senator Ratbat to take him off the streets and work as his aide. The memories about Ratbat are easier to acess the further away they are, but the more recent ones are harder to crack. In fact, many recent memories are kept at much higher levels of firewall security- though as a Senate worker, one might expect a mech to have certain professional secrets to keep. Of course, Ratbat himself was recently found murdered by Shiftlock, right? Dead by each other other's hands, what a tragedy. The duality of her psyche is also something he picks up on and explores... he had wondered about that from earlier. It explains some things, furthering his understanding, but some things remain a question. "There are... two of you?" he asks. 
The outlier continues to sit and allow this access, exploring this direct link to the mind. Then she asks him that last question, and it does get a small reaction from the mech. He looks up at her, a little surprised, just as she places a hand on his facemask. His gaze meets hers, and there is a moment of silence... then his hand comes up to touch her hand and holds there. "I... have not, no. I... usually haven't needed to ....interface."
.oO(You're cute for such a big bot,) comes Bloodhound's fond response as clear as if it'd been spoken. The Decepticon is a world away from Pharma and the contrast is pleasant along with everything there is to like about the mech himself. .oO(And you remind me of myself when I was younger...) A little package of emotions is bundled up and offered across the connection. Reassurance, calm, and the utter familiarity of doing something the scienceformer has literally spent cycles doing - many, many cycles.
As she summons some feelings for the mech, the natural pulse of Bloodhound's own mood begins to come into clearer focus and it adapts itself to Soundwave's own as she guides the connection deeper. Restricted memories are left unprobed and the empty is delicate in what she views, brushing only briefly against firewalls and not pressing upon any such restrictions. Where her mind tugs is on Soundwave's mind itself, giving passing thoughts and accepting passing thoughts to build an ebb and flow to the link, trading the loose change of the psyche to ease the carrier into the feeling of opening up. Gradually more of her own psychology comes into view but Bloodhound keeps a couple large but quiet segments locked out for later exposure.
The dull throb of her body's wrongness fades as she allows some of Soundwave's more confident identity to balance it. The femme whom he's wired himself to, as she steps closer and seats herself in his lap, bringing their faces closer but almost feeling a realm apart beyond the torrent of data... doesn't really have one. Her body is better, improved by recent repairs from Pharma but still not 'right' for who she is - and she doesn't have a name. 'Spectrum' and 'Bloodhound' are names and enough proof to substantiate their existences is available in the open sectors of her hard drives, but neither one is tightly linked to the brown-striped white robot on the other side of the link.
Soundwave has heard and encountered a great deal many things, but being called "cute" doesn't appear to be one of them. In the intimacy of their connection, Bloodhound will detect a reaction to that. It's a subtle one- Soundwave has a deliberate, highly cultivated calmness about him due to neccessity. The constant emotional barrage he receives from the world around him would engulf and drown him otherwise. Still, she will detect some trace of amusement there- and even a little shy embarrassment. This is the sort of thing that happens to other people, not him. He's the looming, possibly somewhat creepy mech in the background, not someone a person walks up to and says *hey you're cute*. The carrier face turns slightly as he glances away, then he brings his visor back to face Bloodhound. She can probably feel a touch of warmth welling up as he admits through their connection (You are the first to say so). When she sits in his lap, he simply brings a hand to rest lightly on her shoulder. Upon hearing that he reminds her of herslef when she was younger, he transmits: (Is that a compliment?) He accepts the emotional calm, and sends a share of his own. 
He ebbs and flows with her, also respecting her firewalls as he courses through her mind, and she his. And then there it is again. That sense of wrongness, the dichotomy of the two selves and dischord with her present form. He probes further into that, gently questioning. (...Who are you?) His question contains little demand, rather a gentle curiosity.
'Compliment' may be the wrong word but the similarity is something the ex-beastformer finds relatable and endearing in the otherwise imposing mech. With her mind inside his, her earlier reservations brought on by his stature and emotionless visage are melting away. Bloodhound's beginning to feel pretty comfortable around the blue carrier - or in his lap as the case may be.
The subtle response is noticed and brushed with a small added touch of reassurance. Bloodhound more than Spectrum is the wellspring of those feelings although as the femme let's her optics unfocus to concentrate on the meeting of their minds, the scienceformer's influences remain present in the methodical way she sorts through data while tugging again a little here and a little there to deepen the connection further. (I'm me,) is the simple but profound thought that the empty provides. Her mind opens a little wider for the carrier as she offers an exchange of senses with her answer. Whoever she is, the lack of a name doesn't bother the femme. Her idea of the first person, her concept of self, is safe and secure in disregard of it and her body. The reason why is surely locked in one of her still-sealed sectors and she baits it in return for something from Soundwave.
Her first wordless question is simple and perhaps the easiest as Bloodhound cautiously bares her insecurity; she's weak, she's wanted, and for all her skills the verve and reckless confidence of youth has largely left her. The empty is afraid of giving power to others and, Autobot or Decepticon, a need to do so is upon her unless she can buy more time living as she has.
Despite his earlier trepidations, Soundwave is actually enjoying this experience as well. He is still carefully controlling himself and his emotions, but that is standard procedure for the outlier. This is a new experience, and one he approaches with curiosity and calm. He continues to accept her reassurances and send some of his own. 
Her self-concept is a.. unique one, to say the least, and Soudnwave still doesn't understand it fully... but it does seem she's made some peace with who she is at her core level. The dichotomy lies somewhere in the body, it seems. Soundwave probes further, his relative youthfullness mingling her her older self. The carrier side of him instinctively sends reassurances to her as he detects vulnerability. Now there is more to the mech- the times on the street both gave him a sense of compassion, and seem to have honed a harder edge. It seems to depend on who he is dealing with. 
Soundwave offers a glimpse into his own experiences- a taste of what it's like to "hear" the way he does. Bloodhound will suddenly detect random thoughts and flickers of emotions that have nothing to do with them. Someone feels happy, and the laughter dances like petro-butterflies in technicolor across her field of view. There's another emotion...one of deep sorrow that drips like dark blue rain, making everything hazy. Snatches of voices of people walking by the building right now, and glimpses into memories that belong to neither of them. there's even a snatch of memory of someone running low and fast to the rgound, sniffing the wind for sharp scents- one from Ravage. Then a memory from Soundwave himself: how lost he was once. The chaos and confusion he felt, and how great a sense of relief he had once he discovered his "family" of cassettes. 
Then he offers a glimpse into his time at ratbat's offices. How he detested Ratbat and his arrogant abuse of those he held power over. How Soundwave worked behind the scenes to attempt to right wrongs, while maintaining a fine line between action and consequences.
Bloodhound's mind almost reels as it's thrust briefly into the expanse of lives that Soundwave has learned to filter every waking moment. It's a disorienting flood of foreign thoughts and memories but one that the old femme manages to wrangle with an application of will. It's a lot like interfacing for the first time and as the ex-beastformer finds her mental feet again, there's a mirthful recognition of the irony. The scope of Soundwave's ability and its implications for the mech himself are met with a quiet awe and respect; as fantastic as the power might sound, she recognizes the burden it imposes and that there are plenty of minds she wouldn't want to see. As predictable as a dog offered food, the empty's mind perks up at Ravage's memory and it opens a door to nostalgic memories of her own, traversing alien worlds in her old alt-mode.
Bloodhound smiles for both of them at the tragic turned joyous period when Soundwave met his friends and it strikes a powerful chord with a memory of Spectrum meeting Bloodhound. Isolation, confusion, uncertainty and fear met a nurturing calm and eventually struck the same happy tones. One memory epitomises it: a view of Luna-2 on a starry night through two pairs of optics. It's a cherished and deeply personal memory but one that the femme doesn't fight even as she holds back its kin for just a little longer.
Bloodhound's own senses begin to leak back, partially restrained until she's sure Soundwave is willing to have them. Sitting in his own lap might be a new experience for the carrier, as could be seeing his own face from very, very close. Somewhere during the last exchange, the brown-stripped femme's body began leaning almost head-to-head against him while her mind kept itself in their shared world.
Soundwave continues the gentle push and pull of their interface. Indeed, he has had glimpses of minds that scared even him. One or two were like slipping down a steep chasm, scrambling for a handhold while a sharp sense of futility and despair permeated everything and the white-hot flames of insanity and depravity scorched every outside surface. Burned. There was always the confusing whirlpool of minds at first, and before Soundwave had control of his gifts, it was those dark minds that gave him the nightmares and pushed him into those terrifying chasms. Again, it was only through the help of Ravage and the others he ever made it out of those hell pits at all. 
The carrier takes in the dual memory, understanding and enjoying the sense of warmth and companionship even if the memory itself is unfamiliar. He again prods for more information concerning these two, though the requests remain polite and only push until resistance is met, then stop. 
As Bloodhound's own physical senses come into the stream of data, Soundwave smiles faintly under his faceplate. Some of it is unfamiliar. No, he has certainly never sat in his own lap before, and he takes a while to revel in the novelty of the situation. Mentally contrast feels the weight on his lap while simultaneously encountering the resistance of that lap in a slightly disorienting, yet mildly pleasant, feedback loop. As the femme's head comes to rest near his own, he maintains that gentle physical touch of his hand, while sending her another psychic transmission. She's felt a lot of the horrors and fears he has both experienced or encountered from others, now he makes sure to send the most pleasant ones. The reassuring, soft blanket that wraps around his feelings for his cassettes- that sense of safety and acceptance he feels with them, and they with him. Crescendos of joy from couples and friends as they share life experiences with one another. The triumph of one's own hard work coming to fruition, or clearing hurdles one once could not even imagine COULD be cleared. And then, finally, a more recent memory. The moment Soundwave's world truly came into focus. The moment he met a kindred spirit- one who could see all his dreams of equality come true. His meeting with Megatron. Megatron- who immediately understood that Ravage, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were sentient Cybertronians with their own value and worth and rights. Megatron, who dreamed a dream that Soundwave could share. It was that moment Soundwave knew he'd found his life's purpose- to be at Megatron's side and to see his dream become reality.
Bloodhound's mind recoils from the carrier's brushes with the insane and depraved but not without an odd sort of fascination.  It's a crossroad she encountered earlier in her life and a choice that's crossed her path more than once since.  More memories filter across of living in the Dead End and it becomes clear that its reputation is well-earned.  Energon was eternally hard to come by, parts even harder, and a miasma of crime and corruption hung over life like an oppressive cloud.  In an instant of calm, Bloodhound weighs her trust in the carrier, his emotional state, and decides to share a little more of that history.  The memories from Bloodhound and Spectrum are held back a little longer, too private to expose just yet, but as Soundwave's mind moves in another direction the femme quiets her thoughts and lets herself be pulled along instead.  She's not in a rush to share the next part.
When the carrier offers a new cocktail of emotions, the ex-beastformer palpably relaxes and she soaks them into her spark.  They lift her mind to brighter pastures and she smiles deeply; in counterpoint to Soundwave's cultivated calm, her own control slackens to strike an emotional balance for both of them.  Bloodhound herself is a simple creature but one too jaded by time and life to hope for such feelings again, she no longer trusts freely enough for that.  Letting her physical control continue to slip, the femme lets out a sigh against Shockwave's facemask that wells up from the depths of her frame while her mind wanders through memories of a time before, when Bloodhound and Spectrum both had people they looked up to, trusted, and drew strength from.
"Ah..."
The capstone memory of Megatron catch the empty's interest and she asks for more.  Poisoned perhaps by propaganda she'd expected him to be far worse and advice from Pharma comes to mind on the risk of the miner's insincerity and how, even despite that, the rest of the Decepticons could be dangerously corrupt.  Here again is a brief thought of Starscream.
Soundwave takes in more of those memories, still gently questioning the duality of personalities he keeps encountering without being insistant or demanding. He shares some of her experiences in the Dead End- as an empty wandering the streets, he too knows what it was like. It helped bring out the more compassionate side of the carrier: he knows what suffering is, both his own and others, and brought a desire to end suffering. But it also brought about a certain harder edge, a willingness to do what it takes to survive. 
His hopeful idealism comes across her more jaded experience and tries to understand. But *without hope, and without something to strive for- something better to try for, where are we?* his thoughts question hers. There must be hope, dreams, ideals to achieve something better, lest all falls to the ashes of despair and nothing ever changes. 
He continues to hold her close as that brings him back to Megatron. Megatron looms almost larger than life in Soundwave's mind, providing him focus and clarity. His loyalty to the miner is absolute. Soundwave is convinced Megatron is the one to bring Cybertron to a Golden Age. And it is largely through the glimpses into his mind than gives Soundwave that confidence. He doesn't share the glimpses, those remain private, but Spectrum will sense the kinship he felt. There are hints of shadows there, too. Hints of violence towards those who are preceived as unjust. But there are no traces of insincerity. No, from Soundwave's thoughts on Megatron there is only a steadfast belief IN Megatron's sincerity. His...rightness. 
Starscream, however, is another story. There is no such loyalty or trust... in fact there are traces of distrust from Soundwave as well. Suspicions of Starscream working for himself and himself alone. Questions Soundwave would like answered. And so he asks her about that mentally, prodding for more information.
On some parts of her past or Pharma's thoughts Bloodhound may be reticent. On Starscream... not so much. The empty's opinion of him is one of outright distrust and dislike. The memories that support them are few and vague; like Soundwave's opinion of Megatron they're more feeling than offered proof. Starscream thinks the world -owes- him a huge favor, and always will. No morals, no regard for the sanctity of other life, and he'll betray anyone if it'll get him what he thinks he deserves. However the seeker is good at sweet-talking and there's a suspicion that it's how he reached the position he did in Megatron's favor. Bloodhound is ready to confirm the carrier's suspicions and presses mentally that he be treated with due caution and expelled when the time is right.
That leads itself to another thought. The femme certainly seems to trust Soundwave himself now and has even set aside most of her distrust for Megatron by proxy, but the more intellectual side of her personality offers a simple argument. A movement like the Decepticons is going to appeal to anyone with something to gain in the chaos, or a lust for violence, or sadistic, predatory urges kept otherwise in check; it's going to gather its own corruption like the government has and a burgeoning rebellion doesn't have the luxury of picky recruiting when it's badly outnumbered and outgunned. How much better are the other Decepticons, how likely are they to treat her as badly or worse than the Autobot government already has, and what's the plan for enforcing order and the Decepticon's own brand of punishment? Memories of news reports, bombings and other major attacks with high civilian death tolls, and of witnessed police and vigilante brutality support the femme's assertions.
Starscream is agreed upon- both their minds form a concensus there. There is something about the Seeker that does not inspire confidence, despite his smooth talking and serpentine smiles. Then Bloodhound gets to the question concerning the Decepticons' future. It is not an unfair question. It is a question Soundwave has asked himself, and there is not an easy answer. She will feel him quiet himself in thoughtful contemplation before giving her an answer. 
He doesn't deny that the Decepticon movement has gained all kinds of followers. Some are there because of a genuine desire to root out corruption and injustice. But some are there simply because they have nowhere else to be, and some are there because they smell *blood* in the air. Because they are drawn to the chaos and hope to sow some chaos of their own. To hide and revel in it. Soundwave is well aware of these people, too. His answer involves patience. A carrier's patience. Right now, the Decepticons need every soldier, every adherent to the cause. Every person has something to offer. Some Soundwave hopes to guide towards better futures, better ways of thinking. Not through force but by example. Others will /not/ fit in ultimately. Every group, Autobot, Decepticon, or Nuetral, has it's "bad petro-apples". The Decepticons will keep an optic on theirs, and enforce military discipline if need be. There will be equality, but it will not exist in a free-for-all. Some order must be obtained, even in a free society. Even violence does have its place in striking out corruption so that the oppressed may finally be free. Soundwave does not deny this. But it must be guided, and it cannot be violence for its own sake. 
He does offer her a reassurance: the Decepticons are proponents of freedom, of equality, and Bloodhound will find far better treatment with them than she would with the trecherous Autobots. The mind-controlling, life-destroying, coercive Autobots. The Decepticons tread a path that is not easy, and will not be orderly or neat. There will be casualties, because that is the way of rebellion and, possibly, war itself, should that come. But the Dcepticon's goals as a group are ultimately the superior one. One where everyone can have the opportunity- the choice- to try to be the best that they can be, without anyone trying to fit them in a predetermined box.
The words of a certain space shuttle come to Bloodhound's mind at the thought of abolishing so much of society's structure for the greater good, as do more words from Pharma. The reassurance is a help but it's a subject that the femme could readily keep discussing at length. But for now her emotions are sated and her reason can wait, that she can stew on later. Instead the ex-beastformer turns her thoughts in a slightly different direction and returns to what she was debating before.
There's another brief moment of indecision as she reviews the carrier again before exposing more memories of her time in the Dead End. Her choices for survival weren't complicated and the sheer expanse of her life among the scrap heaps and shanties comes into focus. Crime promised the easiest and most reliable existence but pinned down in a sense by a few stubborn morals, the beastformer avoided anything that preyed on others in the wrong ways. While she could probably name every substance that's been illegally sold in Polyhex since the Nominus Age, Bloodhound herself was never involved with any. Her solution was more... direct. She salvaged scrap, aided by her namesake senses, but also predated her fellow empties. By now in her old age, the beastformer has killed many, many, many empties in the name of survival. Innermost energon is a flavor she recognizes, common spark placements and major joints within different frame types, and the history of numerous salvage and chop shops within Polyhex's impoverished underbelly are all within her memories. They aren't proud ones but the sheer volume has worn a different kind of hardened edge onto the brown-striped robot in Soundwave's lap. Cold apathy, detachment from the physical, a malaise of fatalism, and a feral, calculating intellect skulk in the shadows of her mind. It might in many ways be exactly the kind of Decepticon the carrier is concerned about.
Bloodhound's optics stare blankly past Soundwave's as she holds apart the garments of civility and lets the carrier see the naked truth of her darker potential. She's got a test for him this time.
Soundwave enounters this test with the same quiet deliberation he tends to approach most things with. Yes, some of what is revealed to him- the murder of the empties- brings him pause. There are certain paths that she has taken that he cannot see himself choosing. His own idealism and sense of community would bring him down a different road. He is not a fatalist- not in the slightest, despite all the minds that he has had access to. But it is also in those minds that he has reached a sort of peace within himself- and peace concerning others. He knows who he is now. More or less. 
The other minds, the other voices, still confuse him sometimes, but overall he knows his own convictions. He also knows those other minds- and the intricate inner worlds each and every one of them resides in. It could have left him judgemental, potentially. Instead, it is the opposite. He has traveled those inner paths with so many others that he can at least understand where many of them come from, and that few have an easy road to travel. Everyone fights an inner battle that no one else (except perhaps for him) knows anything about. He has empathy. So while he does recoil at the thought of killing those empties, he can see the neccessity of it from her point of view- and he accepts that. It is not his place to judge- merely to observe. 
He also may share something else with her. He has a cold-edged pragmatism, perhaps honed to a razor's edge by his time with Senator Ratbat. He is compassionate but not sentimental and is willing to do what it takes to survive- or succeed in what he believes is right. And so he may be more accepting of her than she might expect. He, too, is capable of darker things. Those shadows still linger, though he doesn't expound on what they are other than a steely determination that sometimes, when all else fails, the ends justify the means. 
The carrier makes a final push, searching for any last reveals, insights, or information Bloodhound might be willing to show him, even as his own mind continues to receive nearby data and his scanners monitor his surroundings.
Soundwave's measured response earns a mental acknowledgement from Bloodhound; it's a fair and positive assessment, better in general than what she had expected.  That may not be something to boast about to Megatron but if the carrier can accept the skeletons in her closet, Pharma's concern might have been unfounded - hardly impossible given the medic's vested interests.
In response to the latest probe, the femme offers a mental shrug.  That was the last piece she needed to share and while she could easily prolong their exchange with more questions, and is enjoying the interface itself at least as much as the carrier, her purpose for the meeting has been fulfilled.  Brushing the shadows of her mind back out of sight, Bloodhound lets her attention drift back to their senses.  Even here, sitting in her own lap in a sense, is a feeling of of fond familiarity for something the white robot has done before.  The memories that support it stay locked, hinted for a future encounter, as she offers glimpses of her remaining senses and gives the carrier a chance to end their connection on a unique high-note: unrestricted broadcasts body-to-body - frame tourism without a relinquishment center or the need to leave their own behind.
Even as she makes the offer, Bloodhound takes an interest in what she's already seen; her own face isn't so special but her EM signature is new and different.  The empty only caught a glimpse before and wants to see the rest.  Among the hum of her motors and the digital pulses of sensors and her brain, the radio-frequency stream that's been coming from her when she arrived has yet to stop.  Given the time or luck to decrypt it the telepath might recognize it as video feed - redundant to what she's already sharing.
As the main interface exchange winds down, Soundwave is willing to let go off the probing and questions and begins to shift gears towards the offered exchange of senses. The outlier practically *lives* in that realm... his heightened senses are quite possibily unique in all of Cybertron. He accepts the offer, and allows open access to this world. 
There are voices everywhere. Some are stronger than others, some quite muffled. A chatter that never ceases, going on all hours of the day and night. Somewhere nearby, someone is explaining various mining procedures to another. Elsewhere, two people chat about the relatively mundane details of their day. But the voices aren't all of it, no. Thoughts generate all of this- and some thoughts are secret. Someone thinks to themself about how they've just joined the Decepticons and hope that this will bring about the change they desire. Another hasn't yet, but wants to- mainly because they are angry and want to let off steam, and the Decepticons seem a good route towards that. 
The anger in that individual opens up yet another layer to the telepathy- that of emotions. The angry individual's feelings are raw, red, and they wash over the senses like a hot flame gliding on oil. Soundwave has enough experience now to use that oil as a shield, so that he (and Bloodhound) are not neccessarily burned, but the heat can still be felt. So too can the cheerful state of the two friends chatting about their day. It comes in much cooler, less dramatic, but instead of an intense burn it offers a pleasant soothing salve. Smatterings of color flicker through, yellows and oranges and pinks of friendship. The emotions of Ravage also come into focus briefly- and it is an intense focus. He picks up every smell, hears sound most would miss as he scans the surrounding area. Soundwave's own excellent senses merge in harmony with Ravage's, and together they can keep track of even more things around them. The power is heady, immense... The smells pungeant, sharp, sometimes acrid or sweet, but adding to the complete sensory sensation. The world isnt three-dimensional, it is infinite in its abaility to generate immersion and belonging and never-ending information. Radio signals come through, flickers of a Senate speech, the loud buzz of a comedy show, whispered nothings between two lovers, Bloodhound's own radio signals and physical state. Soundwave sends information about Bloodhound as well- her sitting in his lap even as he senses what it is like through her, a feedback loop from so many angles that, again, three-dimensionalty is almost rudimentary in comparison. Her video feed as well, if she allows. Existence comes in an endless variety of thought, speech and sensation- simultaneously.
Bloodhound's own senses, while confined to a single body, add a bold and distinct note among the chorus of thoughts, feelings, and everything else that passes through the carrier.  For most cybertronians sight takes up the lion's share of sensory bandwidth, leaving hearing, touch, and the rest to share a remaining third at most.  In the ex-beastformer it's almost reversed though her vision is nothing to ignore, crisp and as clear as any normal optics could deliver, but with an added overlay of false colours that peer comfortably through Soundwave's red visor and illuminate the workings of his own optics beneath.  The femme's eyes can recognize infrared as well as visible light.
Past sight is her sense of touch, accurately calibrated but not too special, and included now is the white noise of life that Bloodhound herself has grown accustomed to: the delicate balance of her modestly top-heavy frame atop her hips, the idle fanning of boosters on her back as they brush themselves clean of dust like a dog might shake itself free of rain, and the virile feeling of deep breaths of air filtering through clean intakes to cool an otherwise slender frame.  Bloodhound's hearing is also a small notch above normal, with a higher frequency range than most and sharper directionality.
Then there are the smells, and Primus the *smells*.  As that one sense hogs the majority of their interface cable, it becomes clear that the femme's names are appropriate for her.  Not just odors like Soundwave receives or even distinct and recognizable scents like Ravage, Bloodhound's 'sense of smell' may well be two or three senses on its own.  The air that filters into her is flavoured with an enormous bouquet - some bold and recognizable to Soundwave, some light and subtle enough that even Ravage might overlook them - and then as a small sample is diverted from her cooling to the center of her chest the smells explode into chemistry.  Phosphates, hydrocarbons, salts, and oxides are all known instantly and discretely as the smells give way to molecules - parts-per-million and even parts-per-billion - and the molecules give way further to show their elemental building blocks.  A mental catalogue born from study and exposure over millions of years passes them through countless criteria, guessing place of origin by trace elements, health and occupation by unburned fuels and contaminants, age by isotopes, and half a dozen other facts besides.  Soundwave's telepathy exposes extra dimensions in the external world; for Bloodhound, for a mind that can brush apart a crystal lattice and duck between its metallic bonds to count the wayward carbons stuck inside, there are extra dimensions in the internal world too.
The femme's pumps reverse for a moment as she lets out another breath and moans in surprised rapture at her temporary but overwhelming new existence.  Her mind is still separate from Soundwave's, freely passing its gossip and impressions as it bobs in the sea of data that is their link, but her physical sense of self has happily sublimed.  Spread now across two bodies with nothing to anchor her but the mental knowledge of which one is "her's", the brown-striped robot lets the overlaid senses consume her entirely.  "Oh Primus I missed this..."
Here again is a deluge of information from Soundwave - minds, and radios, and fears, and joys - but instead of overwhelming her, Bloodhound lets Soundwave's gentle guidance steer her around hazards and just takes it all in.  There's a sense of floating, of being spread the length of a cityformer as the telepath's far-reaching senses stretch beyond the room through the airwaves and bodies of others, then refine as attention draws in on their bodies riding their doubled senses, and refine further when the expansive span of radio waves overlaps with the infinitesimal quantum inside Bloodhound's specimen chamber.
The feminine robot could easily stay lost in the experience and badly lose track of time but one subject in particular grasps her interest: herself.  Bloodhound examines the chesty femme in her lap in the myriad ways Soundwave's body allows her and smiles fondly as she recognizes - with a little help - the EM pulse of her being.  She spots motors, emitters, and hot wires within her frame and acquaints herself with her thoughts from the outside, watching the stream of colours that radiate from her mind while racing at the same time down their wire.  The noisiest signal out of her, the radio frequency video feed, causes the ex-beastformer to stop and postpone her consciousness-expanding joyride.  She didn't remember having that and a quick look at her arm confirms that her entire radio is off...
Soundwave smiles softly under his faceplate as Bloodhound expresses her enjoyment of this. He is enjoying himself as well- more than he would have expected. This sort of thing usually seems so...unneccessary to him, what with his telepathy. It is also more intimate and he has spent a great deal of effort maintaining control over the barrage of senses he receives, not giving that control away or allowing himself to be lost in the experience. But despite his initial misgivings, this has been a memorable experience- and even the outlier has sensed and encountered information he ordinarily does not. He says nothing but sends a pulse of calm, quiet contentment over their connection. 
As he so often does, Soundwave simply absorbs the information around him- in him- without judgement. He rides the wave of data stream in a languid arc. Together, like this, it is like they exist within their own cosmos. They form a microcosm of a near-god-like state of being that knows, sees, smells, feels all around them. All the senses and minds nearby feed into them, giving them the ultimate heightened state of knowledge, understanding and /being/. 
As the datastream crests around Bloodhound, he exchanges experiences... then pauses as she notices her radio is off. His consciousness flickers in but awaits her verdict, as she knows herself best. And as he does so, he begins to settle, pulling back down and becoming more intensely aware of himself again. the other voices are seperate- he is his own person. His hand, still on her arm, glides down reassuringly as he pulls himself- and perhaps her -slightly more away from the mental world back into the physical one.
Bloodhound's world shrinks and focuses itself again as Soundwave slides his large hand along her slender arm and she rides another breath back into her own body.  Her offered senses continue to the carrier unabated but the femme tunes them out of her own mind.  She mentally confers with him on the transmission and compares it to others nearby, but finds no match to reassure her.  The ex-beastformer's spark housing begins to frost over with a cold dread until, with a shock of panic, the obvious answer strikes her: Pharma.
The sensory parade dims and drifts away as Bloodhound's mind races and her thoughts hog the link instead.  Arriving at a free clinic only a couple cycles from scrap and meeting the famous doctor; asking at first cautiously for small upgrades and then with shaky optimism as Pharma acquiesced, with ease, to her requests; being sedated to have most of her frame rebuilt; waking up with a heady euphoria to a new, wonderful body with claws, boosters, a sleeker design... and enhanced senses that included night-adapted optics.  There's a rumbling heat of despise for the doctor, anger, and yet again a burning sting of betrayal as Bloodhound realizes, with certainty, that she's been bugged.
More memories of the doctor come to mind, no longer shielded by the femme as she jumps from point to point.  This time it's a dimly lit basement full of circuit boosters and other illegal goods.  The pair networked together, not unlike Soundwave has now done, but their connection went another direction.  A cautious start and a familiar debate on trust lead to a deeper sharing in both directions as Bloodhound tried to force from Pharma a mental handhold she could pin her loyalty to.  There was no self-sacrificing devotion or protective empathy to be found that time and the femme came away wary but undecided; she'd sold her potential well and in return Pharma was quick to offer all the upgrades it would take to satisfy her, but there was a nagging discomfort that Pharma would discard her the moment it was useful to do so.  In Bloodhound's mind, it's clear that's what's just happened.
Soundwave will need to buffer the femme's sudden anger and panic but his own calm offers enough of an anchor that Bloodhound doesn't cut and run while they're still plugged in.  There's a strong, immediate urge to cover her eyes and *run* as she realizes the danger she's placed the carrier in and a weaker urge to run for her own sake for fear of being summarily executed by him (it's a testament to the trust Soundwave's mind has cultivated that the order isn't reversed,) but Bloodhound is frozen by indecision and reassured by the blue robot's mental presence long enough to realize that the damage has been done and can't be made much worse by continuing to stare optic-to-optic.  The empty stays in his lap for now as she processes her realization - but just barely.
This is not good. Soundwave takes this all in and indeed, it is the carrier's practised calm that prevents any sort of rushed response, or fight or flight action. His first thought IS towards calm- which for him is focus. In this case, he uses the nearby proximity of Ravage and Laserbeak to reach for them, touch their minds, gain that familiar focus and be soothed himself. Then he is able to bring that within and push it outward, towards Bloodhound. Soothe her, guide her towards that same focus. He can sense her panic and he knows she did not do this deliberately- it is simply more Autobot treachery. Pharma. How much does he know, and how can Soundwave use this information? He attempts to get a bead on where the radio signal might be traveling. 
But it is time to cut the connection. Again he makes no sudden moves, still seeking information throguh their connection even as he reaches with his hands to attempt to grasp hers. If she allows him, he will hold them for a moment in another soothing gesture before gently guiding them towards their interface cables. There, he will try to have them disconnect the cables- together. Not apart, not panicing, not in chaos- but as one thought, one mind, one body, moving together. Because only by working together will the oppressed ever break free from their oppressors.
Soundwave's borrowed focus and composure manage to sedate the wild path Bloodhound's mind has taken and as she feels no blame or dire concern from the large mech she relaxes again.  The femme offers an apologetic smile for making the blue robot act as her caretaker and it earns another note of affection from her; comforting one mind with another is a familiar experience from her past as both giver and receiver.  The feeling and her smile grow at the carrier's gentle touch and it wells into a cozy warmth in her chest as she allows Soundwave a rare privilege in thanks: relaxing control of her body, she lets his impulses guide her directly while giving only small, corrective nudges.  Her proprioception and touch are shared fully again and as both ends of the cable are unplugged in unison, their connection ends with a new form of unity.  For Soundwave, he's not just experiencing two bodies, he's acting through both as well.
When the link is severed, Bloodhound returns to her own mind and body with a palpable snap and the non-telepath takes a moment to reorient herself into being just her again.  She takes in the point blank view of Soundwave's optics anew and then turns her intellect and instinct to the puzzle that faces them both.  First thing's first: the video feed itself.  Pushing herself against Soundwave's lap, Bloodhound turns herself in place until the slighter femme can lean back against the carrier's broad chest and look, more or less, out toward the room with him.
"I can try to bribe the recordings from him," she offers, perhaps pointlessly thinking aloud.  "But if he's already reviewed them by then - likely - then that's useless and he's too treacherous to trust on his word."  That leads, naturally, to a guilt-ridden conclusion.  "I can't fix this," the brown-striped robot laments.  "We'll have to minimize his advantage instead."
There's another unique experience as he "controls" two bodies, and Soundwave allows himself some small enjoyment of it while still remaining focused on the larger, more pressing issue at hand. He continues sending that sense of calm focus up until the moment they disconnect. He makes no sudden moves, letting Bloodhound rest in his lap- his hand supporting her shoulder as she turns and leans on him. There's a moment of silence as they rest and Soundwave gets used to sensory input through either telepathic or physical means once more. A pleasant feeling of lingering electric pathways not quite gone completely from his systems. The warm afterglow of an interface, perhaps... especially for a mech who is new to it. 
He finally speaks. "Confronting Pharma directly: inadvisable. It is highly unlikely that he would deal with you any more honestly than he did before." Soundwave gives the femme a slight nod. "Yes. I would like to work with you to decide the next step. We might be able to find a way to use this against him. If there is concrete proof of his treachery, that would be useful."
"He has legal immunity and what he did is easily justifiable.  Bugging an empty to spy on criminals is nothing," Bloodhound disagrees with a lighter but even timbre, her own equivalent of thoughtful monotone.  Among the warm, tingly embers left in her mind by the carrier's soothing presence, a little of his personality has lingered as well.  "With my video feed, he may also deduce that Blast Off provided me your frequency, inconsequential, and that Swift Blade is affiliated with him.  He'll be unaware of anything we've said here since I'm the only one with lips to read; we still have an element of surprise."
"Hesitant but," she's even borrowed Soundwave's preamble, "with convincing justification I can accept his offer as a spy, however that would require extreme care in our future communications - one, leaves me open to being compromised in more dangerous ways," .oO(bugging other senses, a kill switch,) "-two, and as a disposable my position would grant minimal access to useful intelligence - three."
"With the success of his bug and my awareness of it, I could also act as a double agent but that would require careful exposure to information and misinformation; however a thorough 'entrance scan' using my existing bug as a pretext should remove direct access to my senses and physical leverage over me."  Here the femme pauses to think.  There's a small recognition that this may be the fastest route to her precious upgrades but a stronger urge of loyalty to her new friend Soundwave makes the thought of betraying him, even as an act, taste bitter.  The carrier has succeeded where Pharma failed.
"Both are high risk," .oO(and label me disposable) she considers with a note of distaste.
Soundwave remains as calm as ever as he listens, considering the options. Having a double agent could be useful, and he is open to the possibility. It is also very dangerous work and would require forethought and planning. It would not be something to jump into lightly. High risk- and also potentially high reward. But she is correct- as an empty, her access to truly important data would be limited. "We can discuss this further, but for now I suggest we continue on as if unaware. I have some duties I must attend to." He begins to shift in his seat, then pauses. 
"I would like to encourage you to learn more about the Decepticons. Someone like you would be a welcome addiiton to our brother and sisterhood. However, given what we now know, we must proceed with caution."
The carrier's advice draws an unpleasant pause from Bloodhound this time.  Calmed or not by his physical and lingering mental presence, Pharma's deceit struck a particular discord with the femme and an itch to pay him back grows as her more emotive side reasserts itself.  "I'll act as if that defective medic didn't bug my circuits, for now."  Name calling will have to do instead.
As she cycles a deep breath to maintain her cool, Bloodhound's mind turns to the big picture again.  "I'll use your frequency for inquiries and limit my encounters to known Decepticons otherwise.  If I express an interest in joining for any reason, scan me, *deeply*."
"...Yourself if possible," she adds with a gingerly note that's clearer in her mind than in her voice.  The brown-stripped robot has a practiced poker face but, excepting Soundwave, there's a genuine fear of someone else defiling her circuits more than they already have been.  With her piece said, Bloodhound pushes herself out of the carrier's lap and back onto her feet - but only after she's turned optic-to-visor again with the large blue robot and licked the side of his facemask.
Soundwave doesn't blame her for the namecalling. The carrier nods. "I am your contact in the Decepticons now, so I should be able to arrange that." He is just getting ready to shift forward and stand again as Bloodhound turns- and licks his faceplate! The outlier freezes for a moment, actually caught by surprise. Then his hand slowly reaches up to touch the side of his face as he stares at her, one optic ridge lifted behind his visor. That hand then reaches towards her face, and he brushes down her cheek in a gesture that could almost be considered affectionate. Yes... she has managed to impress him, despite everything. 
After a time, he stands. "It has been... a pleasure, Bloodhound." And he means it. This has been something of a new experience for him- including the part where he was actually taken by surprise. He sort of... /liked it/.
'Almost' to someone who doesn't know Soundwave's mannerisms and by now the ex-beastformer has begun to recognize them.  She smiles more openly back and lifts her gaze to follow the carrier's face as he resumes towering above her, now a comfortable shadow rather than an intimidating one.  "And for me too," she agrees.
"Maybe we'll have a next time."