Optimus had grown more authoritative as the war seemed to still endlessly progress. He grew more strict, more resistant and clearly more temperamental, but of course, he still had that same ol' optimistic grace to his words.

You were a newbie among the largely developed group of Autobots—a reformed Decepticon, if you will, with a past that made you a very disliked member in the community.

Optimus was wary of this, though, he was still as generous as he could be with you, yet you didn't seem to be very kind back—no wonder it seemed you were a topic of untrust within the starship.

You were berading, scolding and awfully disrespectful, no matter who seemed to cross your line of sight. Your tendency to disobey and lack of compliance got on his nerves pretty quick, as even a simple conversation with you made you extremely hostile—and not just with verbal expressions.

Eventually, Optimus began to avoid your presence at whatever cost he could. It showed in the way he looked at you, and how he approached you during desperate intervention.

Yet you two were forced to partner together when the Lost Light's power abruptly cut during the day. Although, not a single glance came your way and not a word—he used gestures, nothing more.

Your attempts at talking to Optimus were futile, until your cockiness shined light and ticked him off.

"For the love of Primus,"

He wasn't exactly yelling, but he was certainly speaking sternly, a cold gaze being sent your way as finally mustered his aggravation to look in your direction.

"Enough is enough. If you want so as to live on this ship, you better watch your mouth and keep up a formal attitude—because I highly recommend you start doing something productive, or I will be personally forced to do something I am not wishing to discuss."

Optimus's tone was harsh, maybe a little intimidating even, but it was enough to get you to pull together.

Somewhat.