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[sirassban]

Me every time we get a new chapter:

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Three - Worrying the Medic

Part Twenty Two

———

Most mech suits were initially designed to have remote pilots, to not have a human being in the cockpit of the suit, hoping effectively for a drone. Clearly, that was not successful and the first countries to get functioning suits were ones who did not initially plan for that. Several other countries attempted that as their main strategy and in turn were delayed by the lack of progress. 

Those suits went on to help with modern design for perception and maneuverability for the use of pilots. 

Now, because of those designs most pilots have a widened visual perception, easier maneuverability, and enhanced UI. Unfortunately the new connections leave the pilots with the feeling of body dysmorphia. Both from the physical connection to the suit through their implants but also the visual, audial, and mental connection.

Scientists are still currently studying the effects of this on pilots, it is not currently in consideration to reduce the enhancements back to previous renditions for safety reasons, but new options are being considered for the sake of the pilots.

It’s unknown what this would do to pilots that have the ability to retire since the new generation of suits came about. 

—

Cosmic rust was not taken lightly among Cybertronian’s. Whenever it was mentioned around Hound or Breakdown it would remind them of the diseases that would run rampant through military units, but this was a lot worse than the flu. It was spoken about in revenant tones, more akin to cancer. 

Hound’s skin crawled and his implants burned. 

Megatron was the first one up and stepping lightly away, “Alright, we know what the regulation states. Medic smells or sees rust then everyone gets checked. Knockout?” With a deep sigh, Knockout nods, “Of course, so, whose first?” Hound glances up and that was the wrong thing to do, “I see I’ve got a volunteer.” He gestures and starts to walk away.

At first, Hound stayed put before Mirage gave him a look, “He meant you Hound.” Sighing slowly, Hound pushed off the bench and started to follow the medic. Even back on Earth he hated going to the medic let alone a doctor. 

Ducking slightly at the doorway, Hound moved into the medical tent, “You’re going to have to tell me if whatever I do is uncomfortable or dangerous Hound, I can’t read a person's visor, I’ve never been able to.” Nodding slightly, Hound moves and sits on one of the medical slabs, “Neither can I, Doc.” Knockout pauses and cracks a bit of a smile, “No one calls me doc anymore, they haven’t since the end of the war.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding a bit.

”And what do you mean, neither can you? Every single one of your kind, at least that I’ve met, has visors.” Hound chuckles lightly and shifts a bit, “Call it a feeling, we can tell in other ways how someone is feeling.” Nodding a bit, Knockout turns back around with a swab and dish, “Like an EM field, except you don’t have those either.” “Can’t say we do.” Knockout chuckles as he started to swab plating, frowning a bit after trying to get a seam.

Hound tries not to kick his feet, tries to sit still but it felt like he was back in the physical he had to take before the mission.

—

The room was white, not grey or blue but white except for the almost checkered floor. It looked like any normal doctors office but how could you call a doctors office one building over from where giant mech suits were stored normal. 

Hound shifted on the examination table, wearing his working uniform, after all he was just on loan to MECHA from the army, as much as he might like it here. 

Boots were shuffling through the hall and there were plenty of people talking outside, slowly he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his suit, it had been almost a month since it went in for the upgrades it would need for the Arcturus mission and pilot 2162 was covering his region. She was a fantastic pilot and doing her job well but he’d be more comfortable handling his region.

Then again, space wasn’t exactly his region and that’s where he’d be in a few months time. Sighing, he opened his eyes when there was a knock, “Come in.” The door opened and an older man came in, clipboard in hand and white coat swaying, “Oh thank god.” Hound sighed a bit and Ratchet looked up, rolling his eyes, “Third time I heard that today. Has Shockwave really gotten so bad you’d rather have my medical advice over his?” “Yes.” Ratchet rolled his eyes again.

Although Ratchet was a bio-engineer by trade, he did get his nursing degree before that, which was better than Shockwave and his medical school to any pilot. 

“Alright, well, your chart looks good and your vitals are typical.” It was hard to define anything about a pilot with the quantifiable normal anymore, “Everything else is consistent, I understand they have taken you off your SSRI and ambien?” Nodding a bit, Hound shifts, “Yes sir.” Ratchet hummed and tapped his pen against the clipboard.

Shifting a bit, Hound clears his throat, “I’m feeling fine and sleeping well, my side effects have been limited.” Ratchet hummed again before pulling up the stool and sitting down, grabbing Hound’s wrist for a pulse reading, “Yet, your resting rate is high.” Hound couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes sir.” Barely sparing him a scowl, Ratchet grabbed the ear and throat light.

They went through the motions, Hound responding to statements or answering questions and Ratchet kept referring back to the clipboard, scowling deeply before rolling backwards to look at Hound square on, “Why do you want to go to space Hound? Hmm?” Hound chuckled slightly, “What do you mean?” With a glare, Hound held his hands up.

Sighing, Hound shifts and fixes his shirt sleeve, “I want to end this damn war Ratchet, I mean look at me. Look at all the pilots, what we go through, what we put our bodies through. The sooner it's over the sooner we stop getting put through the blender.” Ratchet’s gaze softened, “Hound,” “I’m serious Ratchet, this shit isn’t removable and we’re pilots till we die or move up, most of us don’t want to move up.” Ratchet gave him a look and Hound sighed.

“Don’t you think I of all people know that the technology isn’t removable?” Nodding, Hound runs a hand through his hair, “Ratchet, the list of pilots grows every day and there is a longer list of dead ones than active ones.” They hardly could look at each other, but Ratchet sighs, “I don’t want to see your name on the longer list Hound.” Cracking a smile, Hound shrugs a bit, “Come on Ratchet, don’t you have some faith in me?” “In you, yes. In those lambo twins? Never.” Hound laughed.

The room shifted a bit, turning from bright to nearly dull, ”Now, can you shift your weight to the other side for me?” Shifting on the table, Hound sighs a bit, “Sure Ratchet.” Everything was coming back into focus now, no longer was the same doctor's office on Earth but an oversized medical tent. 

“My name isn’t Ratchet,” “What?” Hound glances up and nearly startles at the sight of Knockout. Glancing around he cut the microphone to swear before turning it back on and clearing his throat, “Sorry, Knockout. Uh, Ratchet was my medic back on Earth. Has been since I became a pilot.” He nodded a bit awkwardly.

Humming, Knockout lifts up his tablet, “I’ll mark him down as your primary care then Even if he’s thirty lightyears from Cybertron.” Hound chuckled weakly and adjusted in his seat, shifting on the slab just enough, Knockout looks up, “Alright, base plating shows nothing, mind if I check the under plating?” It took a moment before Hound tilted his head slightly, “I’m sorry?” Knockout smiled, his smile even when kind was wicked looking.

He turned the tablet towards Hound, “Your under-plating, from Jazz’s schematic.” TO be fair, it almost looked similar to the blueprints for the suits back on Earth, but missing the cockpit entirely, “Do you mind if I take a look?” Shaking his head a bit, Hound shifted on the seat again, “Uh, no. Go ahead.” He cleared his throat as Knockout went around to the other side of him.

It was harder to not move when Knockout was behind him and prodding him, while pulling at his— at his suits plating. 

“Alright, I’m going to be removing pieces to scan them, is that alright?” Hound shifted a bit, “From back there, yes, you won’t be near anything terribly vital.” Knockout hummed and gently started to pull the plating away with precision only a medic or engineer could have. Hound was still sitting perfectly still, leaned back against the piloting seat.

All of that had been disorientating, just another symptom, another side effect that he now had to deal with. Rolling his shoulder a bit, he sighs before getting the alert to the missing piece of plating, “You got it doc?” Knockout hummed again and activated his scanner.

It was quiet for a minute.

“What in the name of Primus is this?” Hound tried to shift to look but Knockout had moved away from the direct cameras and was holding his plating, gawking at it, “What?” Knockout came around and showed him a piece of his plating, which was stamped with ‘Property of the United States Government’, “I have a translator for written language, why does this proclaim the plating property of your government?” Hound stared at it, the stencil familiar and sprayed on most military machinery.

It was hard to explain why it was sprayed on the inside of his plating, “Uh,” Knockout nodded before storming out of the medical tent, shouting, “Lord Megatron!” And Hound stayed put. 

He was still wracking his brain when both mechs came back in, Megatron was holding the piece of plating and had pretty well crushed it, taking a breath Megatron’s hands were shaking, “Why is this piece of plating attached to you?” Hound slowly sighed and nodded a bit, “It was a repair.” His voice was a little quiet, Megatron’s fist hit the wall, “Don’t you dare lie!” Hound jumped, he couldn’t help it. 

They stayed in silence for a moment, Hound stared at the pair before deflating slightly, “It was a repair, but it’s part of being a pilot. The numbers across our chests, the paint, all of it is for identifying the pilot in the armor.” Megatron nodded slowly, “Armor?” “It’s not removable, not after the testing, but because I was a military pilot it is technically owned by the US government. Same as any materials I needed in the army.” Hound was recording the conversation and sending it to Jazz, it wasn’t the best of stories but he was no writer or actor. 

Megatron moved over slowly, “So, these people own the plating you wear, put you through apparently incredibly painful testing, launched you into space without a way home, and expected you to die for data. Is that all correct?” Knockout leaned in, “They also reek of iron oxide, for a reason I have yet to find.” Hound’s implants itched, “That would be some of our lines, I’ll attend to the repair myself but it’s likely I have a small leak to my internal system.” Megatron threw his hands up before throwing the chunk of Hound’s plating across the room.

Wincing slightly, Hound sighed as Megatron turned back towards him, grasping his shoulders, “This was the other reason I wanted you in this unit, you don’t see your life beyond your so-called purpose and that is infuriating.” Sighing, Megatron pulled away before starting outside, “Mirage, get in here now!” For a second, Hound thought he heard a cube crack.

A second later the room went from being a medical tent to a get together just about, now Megatron, Knockout, and Mirage had joined Hound inside the tent. Sighing, Hound stood and rested his hands on his hips slightly, “What is this, an intervention?” Glancing at each other, Hound nodded slightly before starting out of the tent, “Now that the mystery of the rust is solved I’m going to get my internals to start patching the leak and get some sleep.” And he somehow made it out of there without being grabbed.

They barely had to spare a glance at each other, “Mirage, I want you to keep an eye on Hound.” Megatron’s voice was still rough with anger. Nodding, Mirage watched the mech go back over to where he’d been sitting and slump, turning off his visor, likely for fuel consumption while the internal repairs were happening, “Is he hurt?” He glances over at the two cons, frowning.

Both spare each other a look before Megatron shakes his head and Knockout shrugs, “We don’t know.” Mirage sighs slowly, “And how can he smell like rust if it’s not rust?” Knockout nods a bit and leans against the examination slab, “If what he says is true, it could simply be a mild corrosion of wires that have iron infused in them.” He shrugs weakly.

Mirage stared at where Hound was, before starting back out the medical tent and moving to sit next to the mech. His cube shattered on the ground but he really wasn’t hungry anymore.

Everyone was silent and staring, mostly worried about rust but also worried for Hound, you didn’t get visited by multiple people in medical at Knockout’s request unless you were dying. They were all sparing each other's looks, especially once Megatron and Knockout returned.

Knockout gave one glance around and swore, “It’s all clear you idiots, do you honestly think I’d let him back out here if it wasn’t?” Only a few people relaxed.

—

Bluestreak was sitting alone, the whole shuttle was lined with seats but he was sitting by himself. Maybe it was the big gun that he had leaning against his knee or the fact that most mecha wouldn’t normally be awake at this ungodly hour, while he seemed to have endless energy, but regardless Sunstreaker took the seat to his right with ease. 

Glancing up, Bluestreak’s face lit up with a smile, “Hey.” Sunstreaker smiled a bit and sat back, adjusting in his seat, “Hey yourself.” Then he sent a private comm invite, which Bluestreak joined near instantly, “I’m gonna unplug from the suit, so it’s going to look like I’m asleep but I still wanted to talk.” The visual input from inside his suit was offered to Blue, who also accepted that.

His smile was small and Blue shifted to lean back as Sunstreaker seemingly fell asleep, leaning his helm against Bluestreak’s shoulder. 

It took a second for Sunstreaker to get unplugged from his mech, removing the top part of his assistance suit and helmet before setting down near one of his internal microphones, “Can you hear me Blue?” Trying to hold back a smile, Bluestreak nodded slightly, “Yeah, I can hear you Sunny, I can see you too.” Sunstreaker smiled, “I wasn’t sure if that was going to work or not.” He brushed a hand through his curls, sighing. 

Bluestreak sat silently, waiting for Sunstreaker to get comfortable, trying to keep the smile off his face, “You disconnect cause that overuse stuff going on?” Nodding some, Sunstreaker grabs a container of food, “Yeah, Hound’s orders. It’s just to try and alleviate the symptoms.” Blue hummed and rested his hand lightly on Sunstreaker’s suit, just above the knee, “So, are you going to get some rest?” Shaking his head, Sunstreaker chuckled and opened the makeshift container.

”Nah, I’m gonna eat my lunch and talk to you. Ask about my new boss and all.” Bluestreak tried not to wince, nodding a bit, “Right, Ironhide.” He sighs slowly and Sunstreaker smiles a bit, sipping some very vibrant blue broth which was just shy of being sweet, “He that bad?” Blue bit his lip, “Uh, well, it's not really that he’s bad per say.” He sighed slowly.

Sunstreaker shifted his attention to the screen right below the camera, “But?” Bluestreak groans a bit, “I don’t think it was a coincidence that you were paired with Ironhide and Sideswipe was paired with Elita-One. Even before the last war, they were, let's say, involved with military affairs. Then during it they were Optimus’s best commanders.” Sunstreaker sighs slowly, setting down his food, “It’s because we're civilians, right?” Blue gave a barely audible answer.

Barely glancing at the camera, Sunstreaker got up to pace a bit, “Is he a hard-ass?” Bluestreak chuckled, “I’m sorry?” Sunny smiles a bit, “Is he grumpy?” “Very.” Blue continues to chuckle, rubbing his neck a bit. 

Whistling quietly, Sunstreaker shakes his head, “Damn, they were conspiring, huh?” Bluestreak shrugged a bit before clearing his throat, “Yeah, it would seem that way, but I think you got off better than Sideswipe did.” Sunstreaker glances at the screen, “Really?” Bluestreak hums, “Oh yeah, Elita is a little more rough around the edges especially to mechs over femmes. It’s not a thing but it’s about trust.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker hums. 

Blue shifts a bit in his seat, adjusting Sunny on his shoulder, “Sideswipe is going to be fine though, it’ll probably be good for him.” Sunny nods for a moment before shaking his head, “No, he doesn’t take to authority well. So, Ironhide the grumpy hard-ass, so, what do I need to know about him?” Blue smiles and closes his eyes, leaning back, “I don’t even know where to start.” Sunstreaker smiles softly, “Maybe from the beginning?” Blue grinned. 

“Ah well, I guess I could start with the old prime guard stories. Now, I wasn’t around for those. I wouldn’t come online for a few hundred stellar cycles at the very least.” Sunstreaker goes back to eating, smiling and nodding, sometimes it was just nice to be able to talk to someone or listen to someone without having to talk. He’d usually get that with Sideswipe but this was different and it made his smile turned from a nearly forced one to soft. 

———

A/N

So, this was not what I had planned to post today then I got busy, so it is what was done.

That does mean, on Monday, I might not be posting Part 24 but something else… we will see.

Also a bit of Lore stuff cause I posted it in a comment of the last chapter, the implants as we all know are foreign objects to the human body which our pilots bodies are at present trying to reject. So the reaction is slightly autoimmune but they are also dealing with a shock to their n system as they encounter new bacteria on all these new planets they are going to. They have some anti-biotics but nothing is perfect.

Also if you saw what was at the bottom of that comment… ☺️

Tags:

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

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I love her

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Two - Outlier

Part Twenty One

———

Iron is the 26th element on the periodic table, symbol Fe for Ferrum in Latin. It is the fourth most abundant element on Earth and was primarily deposited by meteorites.

Humans have been using iron since before the Bronze Age, initial use linked all the way back to the second millennium BC. 

It also is the mineral that the human body needs the most for growth and development, the human body uses iron to make hemoglobin which is a protein in red blood cells. Hemoglobin is why human blood is the shade of red that it is and why blood is a significantly different shade upon contact with oxygen.

Iron oxide is the reaction of iron to oxygen and water, which turns the iron to a dark red nearly blown tone, also known as rust. 

Rust is incredibly dangerous to Cybertronians and humans alike. 

—

Their walk through New Kaon was quiet and informative, Hound was trying to ignore the blood and discharge sliding under the collar of his assistance suit with each step. It was unlike Iacon and unlike Earth, it was something entirely unique to Decepticon culture and clearly Megatron was proud of it, smiling a bit, Hound kept walking and listening, “Just past those buildings is where we first landed on this planet, it’s where the space bridge usually stands though deactivated and dismantled due to the war.” His hands were folded behind his back, he walked with the same ease as any man who knew this was his city.

Nodding a bit, Hound continues to look around, “So, I understand why you have fighting pits, they’re probably a lot like our military bases back home, but why have them off cybertron?” Megatron hums, nodding some and glancing towards the sky, “Other than for the obvious reason, I take it?” It took a second for Hound to chuckle weakly, “Other than your million year civil war, yes, I mean why not have one there now?” Megatron nodded slowly, bowing his head slightly.

”Cultural differences and a desire to move on from unsavory pasts.” Hound came to a hard stop, staring at him and he cleared his throat a bit, “Wow.” Megatron chuckled deeply, “Jazz had a similar reaction, then attempted to explain some history of your planet while we walked. I think it just confused us both, he said he was not a history major.” Nodding a bit, Hound moves to catch back up.

Scratching his jaw again, Hound sighs, “Neither am I, so I don’t think I’ll even attempt that. I’d ask Breakdown on that, it’s much more up his alley.” They lapsed back into comfortable silence, walking the streets of New Kaon. Awkward companions that had similar goals. 

—

“Sir, why did you want me for your unit specifically?” They were still walking towards these ever elusive fighting pits. Megatron hummed deeply, “I figured that would be obvious Hound.” Nodding slightly, Hound picks up his pace slightly, “I don’t exactly see it that way.” With a chuckle, Megatron shakes his head, “No, I guess you wouldn’t. You and Mirage work very well together.” Nodding, Hound sighed a bit, “Ah.” With another chuckle, Megatron rested a hand on his shoulder, “That is not a bad thing Hound. Not many can work so closely with outliers and come out unscathed.” Nodding again, Hound went from nodding to slowly shaking his head.

Glancing toward the sky, Megatron bit back a swear, “Sometimes I forget that it seems your people don’t communicate the same way we do.” There was something in that statement, bitter and sounding almost painful.

In a breath, Megatron shrugged lightly, “We try to spread those with outlier abilities through different units, but maintain the bonds they make with more typical mecha. It’s not… easy to get along with mecha who have outliers. They can be abrasive and crass. Overwhelming both in EM and in personality.” Hound nodded a bit, really wishing for a pen and paper in that moment as they kept walking though now shoulder to shoulder. 

“Um, sir, forgive me but I still don’t quite understand and believe me it’s not making me feel like the brightest bulb in the box for having to ask this but what exactly are outlier abilities?” Megatron chuckled deeply but glanced towards Hound before frowning, “When i said that your kind don’t seem to communicate, I did not mean that literally. Has Jazz not told you?” Shaking his head a bit, Hound sighs, “It can be hard for him and I to have a moment to discuss things not related to the war or more everyday occurrences of, forgive me, your kind.” Nodding, Megatron fidgeted lightly with his digits, “I see.” Clearing his throat a bit. 

Nodding some, Megatron started to walk at a significantly slower pace than their already reduced one, “Outlier abilities are generally unexplained, they aren’t particularly connected to a mech’s altmode or anything else it seems. Back before the last war, they had to remain hidden or hide their capabilities.” Taking a breath, Hound just above a whisper, “Because Functionalism.” Megatron bowed his head. 

These were not topics that were usually brought up, it was suggested by Jazz to steer clear of them, but sometimes that just simply couldn’t be avoided. 

“They were persecuted and often hunted back then, now they are seen as the treasures that they are. In all honesty, it is one of the many reasons why Starscream remains my second in command, because of his trine’s capabilities.” Hound chuckled a bit and Megatron shook his head, “I wish I were joking Hound, but they were valuable assets. Still are, hence why they are here and not on Cybertron starting their lives,” He stops and sighs, “Now that the civil war is over that was supposed to be what everyone got.” Nodding a bit, Hound steps forward and nods encouragingly.

Taking a breath. Megatron continues on, “Now, generally, those with outlier abilities are spread throughout units. Clumping them all together doesn’t do us much good. We work with surrounding them with the right soldiers, mechs who can stand to work together without killing each other preferably.” Shaking his head, he sighs, “Hence why when you brought up the fighting you were dealing with in your own unit Optimus was willing to compromise.” Hound stared and bit back a groan, “Got it.” Finally, Megatron showed the barest bit of a smile.

Tilting his head a bit, it was almost as if Megatron was mocking Hound, “What? You thought your speech was that rousing?” Biting back a worse retort, Hound lowers his head a bit, “No, sir.” Megatron chuckled, “Regardless, we try to keep those who can get along with the outliers around and Mirage has seemed to take a liking to you. You seem to be able to find him very easily even when he is hiding.” Shaking his head a bit, Megatron laughs more than chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. 

Hound was staring and shaking his head clears his throat, “Sir, uh, I don’t entirely know what you are talking about. What do you mean, hiding?” Megatron waved a hand through the air, “Mirage is able to make himself imperceivable, generally.” He clears his throat slightly.

Hound wasn’t really sure what to say, “What do you mean, imperceivable? Like, invisible? Outliers can do that?” Nodding a bit, Megatron shrugs, “Only Mirage so far, everyone’s ability is different. As for the invisibility, to everyone except your kind it would seem. Jazz in his first few weeks with us grabbed his arm while he was invisible to our eyes, said he just felt like someone was standing near him. Then there’s you.” “Me?” Pointing lightly to his own chest, Hound shook his head a bit, “I don’t,” “You end up next to him half the time in these fire fights while we can’t see him, while the enemy can’t see him. Scared him half to death the second time it happened and you started talking.” They walked for a minute, Hound opening and closing his mouth before muttering, “I thought he wasn’t there.” Megatron laughed and bent at the waist slightly.

Glancing towards Megatron, Hound shakes his head a bit, “I didn’t realize, I swear it sir.” Megatron nodded, smiling and chuckling lightly as they slowed at the edge of something large and circular, “Yes, I believe that was what Jazz called a ghostly feeling.” Hound nodded before looking out at the circle in the ground and he stopped dead. 

The space was huge and horrific, but it was understandable with how long Cybertron had been at war. Everyone had their dirty secrets, even if they were training pits that looked like illegal fighting rings. No wonder they didn’t want any on Cybertron.

Megatron leaned against the railing, staring out at a few mechs that were training, who were also wearing what was the purple sigil of the Decepticons, now the emblem of one of the many political parties that made up Cybertron’s government. Which probably meant they were either high in the military, never stepped foot on Cybertron, or were a part of the council Hound had been avoiding. Very few mechs still wore their badges, less they were in the military or involved in politics.  

Back in the first few weeks they’d been out here, him and Jazz had talked about it. Back then when it was all so new it had seemed so interesting, how similar their planets were, then horrifying. Now, politics were the last thing he wanted to think about or focus on. 

Taking a breath, Hound leans against the railing, “Sir?” Megatron nods a bit, “I hoped this would not seem familiar to you. Your kind has gone through so much already in life, this was an aspect of it that I hoped you’d avoid. No matter how similar our pasts may seem.” Bowing his head slightly, Hound brushes a hand along the railing, “It is familiar, isn’t it?” “Yes sir.” Megatron sighs slowly, fist hitting the railing hard before shaking his head.

”I apologize for my anger Hound, I swear it is not aimed towards you.” Laughing a bit, Hound glances towards him, “Just my government?” Megatron pauses, frowning slightly, “… Yes.” Hound couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, even as it made his head pound, leaning a hit against the wall, he looked up at the sky.

He hadn’t really noticed that the color of the sky here was orange, every planet that they had gone to had been different and none had yet reminded him of clear Earth blue skies. 

“So, who is in there right now? I don’t recognize them.” Megatron hummed and looked down, “Ah, you wouldn’t. That is part of team Chaar, they live here in New Kaon and one of my old commanders is the head of their unit. They are highly skilled and even more unpredictable.” Nodding some, he sighs, “They have not made their way back to Cybertron since the end of the war and now are the primary unit for this sector.” Hound glances over at the two mecha circling each other, covered in weapons and both mechs huge. 

Megatron stares and sighs, bracing slightly, “You might want to grip the railing,” “Why?” Though Hound’s hands quickly grasp it just as his vision fills with dust and sound cuts out to prevent hearing loss. 

For a second, he wasn’t sure what the hell happened till Megatron came in over internal comms, “That would be Lugnut, he has a special weapon that causes overly dramatic explosions. It’s not very reliable, unfortunately. The mech he nearly just blew up would be Blitzwing, I’d suggest we move on before their argument starts.” Hound still couldn’t see anything, “Uh, sir, I can’t see where to go.” His cameras were trying to cycle the lenses to clear them.

A hand grabbed part of his plating and held on, pulling him away from the expanding cloud of dust.

—

Iacon was shining in the daylight, while Sideswipe was enjoying it the best he could, turning up the brightness on his visual feed. He’d slipped out of the apartment while everyone inside was still asleep, though technically breaking the rules he didn’t much care for any of them at the moment.

Copper and silicon tubing is what he was looking for, Breakdown had said he wanted to also start making vodka so that his concussion would be manageable. It was smart of him to only mention that once Hound left. 

Sighing deeply, he tilted his head back slightly for the light to hit more of his cameras, brighting the visual feed further, “God, I miss Earth.” His implants were draining unpleasantly down his neck and arms, his shoulders painful. All of them besides Jazz were experiencing overuse and it was becoming more unpleasant by the day. 

Rolling his shoulder, Sideswipe swore and grabbed it, falling into the nearby wall, “Fuck!” His mech collapsed as he sank into his seat, holding his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated it and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time since he became a pilot let alone while piloting. 

He was stuck, well and truly stuck, he couldn’t get up without the use of at least one arm and the weight of his assistance suit was tugging on his dislocated shoulder. Making all this worse with every second, it was as if the weight of the whole suit was on just his arm. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, visor dimmed from the pain.

Prowl was staring down at him, frowning lightly, “Sideswipe, why are you on the floor?” Lowering his head, Sideswipe swore again, grasping his shoulder painfully, “I dislocated my shoulder and can’t get up, and please don’t say I told you so. I know we are not supposed to leave by ourselves.” Nodding slowly, Prowl reached down and pulled Sideswipe up carefully, “That’s right, you're not, and now you see why.” Sideswipe swore again as they started to walk back towards the apartment.

He’d hardly been out for twenty minutes, just had enough energy to enjoy the sun projected through screens onto his face before his body started to reject it’s purpose. 

A hand came down on his good shoulder and he swore, looking over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, “You’re lucky it was the two of us to find you Sides, not Jazz or Hound. Come on, we can get the tubing later, we need to spend time not in the suits while we still can.” Nodding, Sideswipe hung his head, swearing every handful of steps from the pain. 

“You make it sound like I don’t have the intention of telling Jazz,” Prowl frowned at Sunstreaker, “Or assume that he doesn’t already know.” Sideswipe looked to Prowl, stared at him and sighed deeply, “Fuck…” Sunstreaker laughed and started to cough, Sideswipe closed his eyes.

Even without their cameras on, he knew Sunstreaker was coughing up blood, just as Sunny knew he was bleeding and his shoulder was dislocated. 

—

New Kaon really was like Fort Irwin, the buildings were squat and there was dust everywhere. None had gotten into his ventilation system yet but it was only a matter of time. 

It was a military city and made during the war, in a way for the war, but people actually lived in the cities they made for target practice. Adapting for their new society and life as it is. Megatron had gotten him out of the dust cloud and started back towards the edge of the city.

All the soldiers were loitering around some unpacked heaters, Mirage was helping a few seekers. He looked over and froze for a moment, biting back a grin, “Uh, get caught up in a dust storm?” Megatron shook his head, “Very funny Mirage,” he sighs, “There was an incident at the pits, do you mind assisting Hound with hosing off? The mechs perception has been limited by the dust.” Mirage nodded, “Of course.” He walks over and takes Hound’s arm.

To be fair, Hound still couldn’t see that well, one of his cameras had cleared up but the rest were still blurry and had turned off after the first ten minutes. Mirage helped Hound over towards the set up wash racks, “Come on, let's get this dust off. Jazz has the same problem, saying that the visors weren’t great with the visual input.” Mirage kept a hand on his shoulder, helping him along. 

What he didn’t see was other mecha making lewd gestures towards Mirage, same as they had done on the shuttle, everyone knew what the outlier felt for Hound other than Hound. 

“There’s a step up here, just to maintain drainage.” Hound cringes slightly, stepping up and nearly slipping on the tile, “Damn, I hate not being able to see.” “We’re fixing it, don’t worry.” Mirage shuffled him around and rested his hands on his shoulders, “Alright, don’t move.” With a few creaks, the solvent turned on. 

It was already bringing the internal temperature of his suit up, which Hound didn’t realize had started to drop already. He sighed slowly and shuffled his suit to open the worst of the seams, brown and red dust started to hit the floor. 

Mirage stood back for a second before moving over, “Do you need help?” His face was burning, “No, thank you.” Hound sighed again and started to work on his helm, trying to subtly clear off the camera, “I heard from Prowl that communal wash racks were a thing for your enforcers and military?” Biting back a smile, Mirage nodded slightly and cleared his throat, “Uh, yes. Of course a Prowl would tell you that, he’s been both. But, yes, usually though you can feel the other person's EM field.” And Mirage just about choked on his words.

Embarrassment was clearly running hot through the poor mech, though Hound still couldn’t see, let alone feel it, “Yeah, I’ve been told our EM fields are faint to non-existent.” Mirage hummed and shuffled his feet a bit.

“So, I’ve been told you wash primarily with water.” Hound had the helm of his suit shoved under the spray of solvent now, rubbing at his visor and activating the cycling for the cameras, keeping his visual feed to a minimum, “Uh, yes. Solvent in too high of an amount can leave burns.” Now that he was here, he honestly wanted an actual shower not just the car wash. 

Clearing his throat again, Mirage shifted, “You going to be okay then?” Hound smiled a bit and glanced over, visor finally lightening with recognition, “Oh yeah, once in a blue moon isn’t going to kill me.” Mirage winced slightly, “Can you see?” Hound brushed some of the solvent off and started to check through his visual feed, “Uh, yeah, I think so.” With a sudden jerk, Mirage had his arm and was pulling, “Come on, you need to sit near one of the heaters to dry off then.” And he was fast when he wanted them out of there, leaving the solvent running.

Hound was almost embarrassed as his suit was dripping with solvent, dragged over to where Megatron had set up a heater, Mirage frowning deeply at him before looking at Megatron, “Sir, keep an eye on him and I’ll retrieve your ration.” Before even Megatron could say anything the man was gone.

Mirage was burning up with embarrassment and everyone but Hound could see or feel it. 

Sitting down near the heater, Hound leaned back and sighed, whiplash is what he’d call that. His mech was still dripping lightly with solvent. At this moment he was thankful for the tight seals that had been installed for this hapless mission. Megatron leans forward slightly, “Are you alright Hound? Losing a sense like that is never easy.” Nodding slightly, Hound shrugs, “I could see a little bit, but the dust just was sticking to my visor, it’s not a perfect sheet of glass unfortunately.” He lightly touches the visor, taking a second to wipe some of the blood on his face.

Megatron cleared his throat, “And you are sure that you’d be incompatible with some of our replacements?” Houch chuckled slightly, “That is very kind, but unfortunately no. Most of your upgrades won’t work for us. Other than the external weapons you’ve given us, though energon is still toxic.” Megatron hummed, bowing his head slightly.

One hand rubbed over Megatron’s face briefly, staring at the glowing heater as the sun was starting to set, “Your kind are both strong and weak, I apologize if this offends, but your incompatibility with us could get you killed.” Hound smiled sadly and nodded, “I know.” They both stared at the heater.

Hound shifted a bit before sighing slowly, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Megatron looked over and nodded slightly, “Go ahead.” Sighing slowly, Hound rubbed at the bandage on his jaw, “Why do you have Mirage on your team? The way Jazz talked about it was that he usually works with Prowl.” He hummed and nodded, “Optimus suggested it, said he would work well with the team I was assembling, which included you of course.” Hound nodded a bit, rubbing his jaw.

”Yes, about that, why exactly did you choose me? There are five of us, you could have had any one of us.” Megatron hummed and shifted on his seat, “Yet, you’re the one who is here.” Hound tilted his head to the side slightly and Megatron held back a groan, “I don’t need your spilt sparks running rampant on my battlefield, they're terribly young. Jazz has worked with Prowl for five and a half stellar cycles, plus they are seeing each other. And I will have Breakdown on this battlefield once he is healed.” Biting his lip, Hound clasped his hands briefly. 

Shaking his head again, clearing his throat was a bit uncomfortable, “Yes sir, but why specifically me. You could have sent me across this insane universe and we’d probably get the same levels of coordination and ground.” Groaning, Megatron shook his head, “That is not the point. This is not about you being a soldier, let alone one because it’s what your creator did. Because that is your function, it is not for that.” Sitting forward again, he leveled his gaze at Hound. 

“I enjoy getting to speak with you Hound, that’s honestly why I requested you for my unit, aside from Mirage. I am a speaker, I was the voice of a revolution and now my voice only carries when speaking to or with the mech I love. Being able to speak to you and be uninterrupted while having simple conversation, reminds me of a simpler time. You hold no expectations, what is that phrase you use? A breath of fresh air. Intelligent conversation with no expectations, no strings, is a very rare and valuable commodity.” It took Hound’s breath away, sitting back a bit he stared at Megatron.

In the months that they had been planet side, he hadn’t felt like he was getting close with any of them, felt rather alien among the mecha. Glancing around at the small group, away from the other pilots for the first time in months, Hound took a breath and nodded a bit, “Thank you sir, I am glad I can be that breath of fresh air.” Mirage smiled over at him as he walked back over with two cubes, handing one to Megatron, though a light blush still covered his face. 

Smiling a bit, Megatron nodded his head, and Hound sat back to look up at the sky which had gone dark a little while ago, turning the orange to red then dark to nearly black other than for the scattering of stars. 

Knockout comes over with his own cube, sighing deeply, “Do we know when they will be entering the system?” Mirage shook his head a bit, sighing deeply as he sipped the warmed energon, “We’re tracking them the best we can, but that still isn’t great.” With a huff, Knockout sat down, frowning. 

With a glance up, Megatron smirked, “Are you pouting because Breakdown is still on medical rest?” Knockout scoffed, “I don’t pout.” Mirage snorted, “That’s scrap and you know it. Hound, what was wrong with Breakdown anyways?” He glances over and Hound turns his mobility assistance back on, setting down his own food and turns on his microphone.

Clearing his throat a bit of the makeshift alien noodle, he tries not to choke on the overly sticky stuff, “He has what we call a concussion, that’s uh, a head injury that can hurt some of our hardware.” He had been waiting for this question, “He’ll be tired, have a hard time with external lighting, be dizzy and have headaches for the first week or two. We all know what to check for so we’ll know when he can go back to duty.” Knockout leans forward, “How do you treat it?” Sighing, Hound rubbed at his neck, dislodging the soaking bandage and tried not to wince as it made a splat sound hitting the floor.

Nodding a bit to cover up the movement, Hound sighs, “With rest and some medications we had stored on the Odyssey. There’s no external work we can do to help this and no software that can be downloaded to repair it. It just takes time.” Humming, Knockout sat back, frowning. Mirage nodded, “Have you had a concussion before?” Chuckling, Hound nods, “Around six of them, I’m lucky to still be a pilot.” Megatron scowled.

“Is it easy for you to experience this injury?” Shrugging slightly, Hound shook his head, “As a pilot, sure, but we’ve done all we can to prevent them. It’s just something that happens.” Megatron nodded and bruded into his energon, Mirage smiled a bit sadly and rested a hand on Hound’s knee.

Mirage cleared his throat a bit, “How’s it been? Separated from your team?” Nodding a bit, Hound glanced around their small group at the edge of the city, enjoying the night and outdoors instead of being up in some tower or building before looking to Megatron briefly and back to Mirage, “It’s a breath of fresh air.” Megatron smiled a bit, shaking his head some.

Knockout was looking around, frowning, while the Hound, Megatron, and Mirage spoke. Relaxing and being able to simply talk.

“Does anyone smell that?” Knockout was frowning intensely, looking around the assembled group, “What?” Mirage glances up, still sipping his cube, “Rust.” Everyone who was eating nearby briefly choked on their food and it went eerily silent as the few people still moving started to glance over their plating. Hound gulped slightly, his neck burning with itchiness. 

———

A/N

I AM ALIVE! But in all seriousness, I have taken the LSAT and now have time to write for a little bit.

I wanted this chapter to be a bit longer since it has been like, two weeks since part 21, so enjoy over 4k words everyone.

Also sorry if the writing is a bit all over the place, it’s my first time writing in just about two weeks.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist

And as always, thank you to the amazing @keferon for this amazing AU and everything involved with it.

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Inspired by ch 2 of the blurr story line written by @keferon . (you might want to turn up the brightness on whatever you’re viewing this with)

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Soundwave x Miku anyone? Mikuwave Perchance?

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Nineteen - Radio Waves

———

Back on that September day in 1984, scientists were more concerned with making a better bomb than they were anticipating needing to drastically change direction. 

The first countries to have mech technology were, in order; Japan, the United States, the USSR, Ireland, and China. Japan had initially been working on the technology for deep sea exploration along with nuclear power plant maintenance and construction, effectively a way to use a human operator in environments non-conducive to human life. They had their first pilot ready and capable within six months of the first attack, Pilot 001, name Kantaro Tomiyama, died two years after the first attack. 

Another four months after their first launch, the United States had their first suit and pilot, no number was assigned initially, now recognized as Pilot 002, name William Witwicky, callsign Sparkplug. He died three months into the program, many of his immediate successors remain alive though no longer pilot mech suits, his son is a notable engineer along with several other family and family friends. 

People wondered initially where Ireland obtained the materials for their three launched mechs at the defense of the Isle of Man, then people began to see the similarities between the structural supports in the suits to oil rigging equipment in the North Sea. 

As the list grew larger and more countries were able to provide assistance in the battle, the compatibility technology began to advance, no longer were pilots being jury rigged into the technology but adapted into the brain of the machine. Yet side effects remain, as human biology struggles to adapt to the needs of advancing technology. Though scientists continue to try and adapt the systems to be more compatible with biology.

All modern pilots have extended lifespans thanks to the sacrifices of these pioneers of mech technology. 

—

It was still very bright in Iacon, even as it started to grow later in the day, Mirage was walking with Hound, smiling, “So, how do you find Iacon? Now that you’ve lived here for a bit.” Nodding a bit, Hound shrugged slightly, “It’s a beautiful city. Certainly bigger than any on Earth.” Of course it would be bigger, human cities were designed for significantly smaller beings but Mirage chuckled still, “It’s bigger than most on Cybertron to be fair and has been around for a very long time.” They go through the gate and back down to the road, Mirage walking with his hands folded behind his back, “But it’s home.” That brought Hound a bit of pause and he smiled some, “I almost forgot you said you were from here.” Mirage’s smile was bright, “Forged and educated, though north of here,” He gestures to some of the taller structures in the distance, “I don’t spend much time in that part of Iacon anymore, it’s lovely of course but to be out of the way from everything and work.” Hound tilted his head slightly, “Then do you live closer?” Mirage, nodding gesturing in the same direction as where he was staying, “Most of us live towards the markets, too much happens on that side of town to not have rapid responders.” Hound hummed, nodding a bit again.

The buildings blocked the sun some, much to Hound’s relief as his head still ached, his hand came up and held it for a second. Mirage was looking around absently before looking at Hound and resting a hand on his shoulder, “Hound, are you alright?” Nodding a bit, Hound sighed a bit painfully as the sun his his visual feed again, “Yes, I am alright, just trying to manage a migraine.” Frowning, Mirage glances around before taking his arm and starting to lead them, “Come on, I know a place where you can have a moment of peace. I understand you’ve been sharing a living space with your entire unit, that would hardly be restful.” Shaking his head a bit, Hound covers Mirage’s hand with his own, “Mirage—“ Who was already shaking his head, “No, meetings like the one today are taxing enough, you don’t need to return to a hab full of chaos with a migraine.” He nearly stumbled when Mirage dragged him around a corner and started down some stairs.

”Mirage, where are we going?” With a shake of his head, Mirage kept hold of Hound’s arm, “Someplace quiet at the very least.” He finally slowed down outside of a shorter building, Mirage sighed and started inside, “It’s still early enough in the cycle that most people won’t come in till later,” the inside was pleasantly dark, with only quiet music coming from the speakers nearby. There were booths and tables, but also some low slung chairs, the bar was in the center of the building with soft lightly and a mech behind it cleaning some cubes, “Afternoon Mirage,” Mirage raises a hand briefly before leading Hound to one of the areas with the low chairs, “Sit down and relax, I’m going to get something to eat and join you. Just, try to ease your migraine.” He smiled softly before heading back towards the bar.

Hound sighed and turned off his visual feed, turning down the lights in his suit for a moment, then disabling the assistance suit for a moment to grab his water pouch and some pain killers. They were starting to run low on the ones from Earth, he frowned at the ones in his hand for a moment. How could the smallest things make you homesick, shaking his head a bit he takes the pills quickly before turning the mobility back on and his visual feed on low just as Mirage came back over with a cube. 

After taking the other chair, Mirage sips from his cube, “Are migraines typical for you?” Shrugging a bit, Hound adjusts the setting on his visor, “It’s common to get them after the compatibility programming, it’s just a side-effect.” He sighs in a bit of relief once the worst of the glare was tuned out of his visual feed, “It was one of the many warnings we got during the testing process.” Mirage was frowning, leaning forward a bit, “The more I hear about this compatibility testing, the more concerned I grow.” Hound chuckled lightly, rubbing at his head, “It was necessary to be able to handle the upgrades, back in the beginning, they were just,” he pauses and sighs deeply, “They were just upgrading people, without the testing, and that got a lot of good people killed before they could become pilots.” Mirage winced, nodding slowly, “I’m sorry,” shaking his head, Hound held up a hand, “Don’t be, they didn’t know better. The technology was still so new at the time and everyone knew the risk.” Hound looked down for a moment before sitting back in the chair.

Mirage was staring and Hound shifted a bit, shaking his head a bit uncomfortably, “You know, the staring makes it feel like you’re trying to see my soul.” He chuckles a bit even as Mirage leans back slightly, Hound sighs, “I take it the word soul translated to spark, huh?” “How’d you know that?” Shrugging, Hound turned down his visor as he darkened his visual feed, “Jazz said it would.” They drifted easily into quiet togetherness, Mirage sipping from his cube as Hound turned off his visual feed and closed his eyes for a bit. 

—

To be fair, they got their inspiration from a TV show about a war, so it was only right that they do this now. Jazz was watching as Sunstreaker adjusted the hot plate, shifting the cube before sealing it again, finally sticking one of the copper tubes through, “Now we have a functioning, hopefully, gin still.” Sideswipe was grinning, scratching at his jaw lightly, Sunstreaker shakes his head, hands on hips, “This is the stupidest thing we could have done.” Jazz grins, “Which is why it’s great, come on. If this works we’ll be able to wind down when we have down time,” he moves over and leans down to watch the contents bubble in the cube, “Wow.” They all take a step back to watch with a grin. 

The door to the bedroom opened and Breakdown came out, wearing his helmet and visor, tinted as dark as it could be as he made his way to the table, “What are we all doing today?” Sideswipe grinned and leaned over to the ladder, offering the man a hand up as Breakdown climbed the steps, “Making alcohol.” Breakdown’s eyes shined, “You got the copper?” Sunstreaker looked over, “Wait, how do you know about this? Sides only told me a few days ago.” Waving it off, Breakdown goes over and looks over the still, “Who do you think told him to get the oversized cube? It will be easier to maintain than a typical copper still, that is for certain.” He was smiling, though clearly his own head still ached from the concussion. Glancing around at everyone and their suits resting across the room, Breakdown pauses, “Where’s Hound?” Jazz sighs a bit, “At a meeting with high command. We all were supposed to attend but the poor guy has a migraine.” Each pilot winced, Sunstreaker lightly brushing a hand over his own implants, Breakdown adjusted his helmet slightly, darkening his visor more.

Sideswipe lightly scratches at his implants, “Do you think it's a normal migraine or an overuse one?” Jazz sighed, “Overuse, I got them all the time when I first got out here, they started around this time for me.” Sunstreaker swore and sat down heavily on one of their makeshift chairs, “It can’t be overuse yet, right? I mean, we all disconnect at night.” With a slight shake of his head, Jazz gives a so-so hand gesture, “Hound also works more than the rest of us, as commander he has to stay up longer for more meetings and things, I just would debrief with Prowler but overuse systems are coming for us all, other than maybe Breakdown, Mr. I-have-concussion-and-get-two-weeks-off.” Breakdown snorts a bit and easily flips Jazz off, “Stuff it Jazz.” Sideswipe had the best reaction, hands going up, “Woah, watch out, the old man is angry!” They all get a laugh out of it, smiling and watching the still bubble and steam lightly, enjoying the moment of peace, trying to not think of the overuse side effects that would come for them all. 

—

When the lights came on Hound had to suppress the wince, Mirage had finished his first drink a while ago but had ordered a second in a significantly different color. They were sitting around, not really talking but being able to enjoy one another’s company without gunfire forcing them together. The music started to turn louder and Hound had to pause, frowning at the nearest speaker, “Wait, wait, has it been playing this the whole time?” Mirage frowned and leaned towards one of the speakers before pulling back and rubbing his audial as it increased in volume, “Yeah, the old mech picked up this frequency a few years ago and it brought in a load of new customers after the war. Nobody knows what it is but a bunch of mecha seem to like it.” Hound tilted his head slightly, “I know what this is.” He smiles a bit and starts to nod, “Yeah, yeah this is 102.7 out of California.” His foot tapped lightly.

”Wait, this is from Earth?” Nodding, Hound smiles, “Yeah, it’s from Earth. Yeah, this is Rick Dees, listen.” They both leaned in as a voice carried over the waves, “This is K-I-I-S F-M, Los Angeles. I’m Rick Dees and these are the hot hits.” Before a song started to pour from the speaker and Hound laughed, covering his mouth, “This is from the eighties. This is from home.” Mirage stared at him, smiling a bit, “I take it you liked this frequency?” Hound nodded and rubbed his jaw, “Yeah, I listen to it whenever I’m in Los Angeles, which is more than I would like.” Slowly, he pushes off the chair and moves closer to one of the speakers, starting at the odd connection to home, “I thought I’d be stuck listening to the twins mixtapes for the rest of my life.” Mirage gets up and moves over, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t know what a mixtape is, but I am glad to see you happy.” Hound nodded some, smiling as the tones of Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper flowed. 

Mirage watched, shaking his head a bit, “I don’t know what’s being said.” It clicked for a moment and Hound turned to look at him, “Ah, well, the songs just starting and it starts with,” he clears his throat a bit, “Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you.” He wasn’t singing it, not even close, but Mirage looked ready to melt, “A lot of her music is like this and she’s an amazing artist.” Mirage nodded and smiled some, “Uh, you listened to a lot of music?” Nodding, Hound looked to the speaker again, “Whenever I could, if I could afford the tapes or CD’s, um, compact disks.” It clearly soured Mirage’s mood, “Afford?” Hound sighed deeply, “Yes, I don’t know how many times I have to bring up the cost of living to get it through your processors. Music and entertainment were luxuries that we couldn’t always afford.” He crosses his arms and stares at the speaker, sighing a bit, “Radio was free, if you could tune in,” his hand brushed over the speaker for a moment and he whispers, “Millions of miles and it’s still so clear.” Then his fist collided with the wall and Mirage took his arm, shaking his head some, “Come on, don’t be like that. Just enjoy the music. Don’t think about the mission for a klick or two.” Sighing slowly, Hound turned and looked at Mirage, nodding. Mirage smiled and offered a hand, “Come show me what this human music is about, huh?” Hound, shaking his head slightly, takes his hand, “You’re crazy.” Mirage smiled wider, “And you’re feeling better. Besides, we agreed to talk about your home the next time we were in Iacon." He spreads his free hand wide, “Welcome to Iacon.” Hound laughed and followed Mirage to the bar, leaning against it, though his visual feed was still turned down to the bare minimum and audio sensors only tuned for Mirage and now the music, a few more hours here wouldn’t kill him. 

———

A/N

Alright, sort of a short one today but I wanted to get a part up on Christmas for everyone to read when they need to avoid their family. Late on Christmas but still.

I swear I am going to write more for the twins, Breakdown, and Jazz next chapter I just have an easier time writing for Hound, even though he is a little OOC. I promise man’s love for nature and stuff is coming.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU!

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You guys have moved on from the language barrier but I haven’t 😔

The people need to see the absolute POTENTIAL this concept has, see my vision, guys. Extra shitty doodle today bc it’s late and I need to wake up early tmr :)

Mecha au by @keferon!!

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I Drew Mech pilot AU jazz & prowl (I love them so much it hurts) by @keferon  (this is definitely ooc but 🤷‍♀️)

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The Arcturus Missions

Masterlist

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

———

Additional AU Things

Arcturus Two

Ao3 Link

Spotify Playlist

I want to thank the amazing and fabulous @keferon for this amazing AU and all the great things that has come out of it. :)

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autograph exchange

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JAYCE WHEN I CATACH YOU JAYCE JAYCE WHEN I CATACH YOU JAYCE

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THEY MADE HIM JESUS

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Going band for band but it’s writing (toxic?) doomed yuri and you’re up against THEM

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PSA:

If you open up a magic 8 ball, there is a die and it can open up

[sirassban]

Lil silli story kinda suicidal and murdery

She screamed, her words fluttered violently out of her head as if there was nothing separating her thoughts from the world. She told everyone about how terrifying her mind can get and how it liked to convince her of things that she knew were wrong but never really cared enough to realize it. There is nothing more horrifying than a woman yelling about murder with fear in her eyes and a smile in her teeth, as the eyes are windows to the soul and the face does what the audience wants. Her yelling continued as she walked them through how he made her so mad and so sad that she just had to kill him! There was no other way to get him out of her life and no other way to get the voices out of her head. Death was the only way. She never expected regret. She never expected how much she could miss the voice of the man that she only connected with hatred. Now the voice was so bent and bruised in her memories it just sounded… wrong. Everything was wrong! She screamed and screamed but nothing could fix the guilt in her eyes and nothing could fix the deep yearning for her gun to be emptied again. It didn’t matter how she felt, death lied in her bones and blood filled her thoughts. She was a killer. The word had slowly stumbled out of her mouth, she didn’t want to accept it. She could accept how she wanted him dead. She could accept how she planned the murder. She could accept how she bought lead bullets so she knew the job would be done. But being a killer. Taking someone's life and just accepting that. Being forced to live in the brain and the body of a murderer for as long as you may live. She couldn’t handle that. There was nothing in this world that would ever make that okay. There was nothing that would ever make her want to live again. She had locked her gun, trying to help her brain stop thing about the same image, the same thing as before. Bullets in his chest, blood covering his once beautiful body, but it wasn’t the man she killed wearing his blood. It was her. With three bullet holes in her chest, blood coating her finest dress with the life of a killer as the only memory anyone will ever have when they think of her. She couldn’t scream anymore. Tears filled her eyes as the barrier between her mind and the people became thicker than the blood of a once loved man. She fell onto the ground trying to speak even as her tears are racing down her face her mind is filled with words and her blood is fueled by death and nothing will keep her from thinking that she is a monster. Nobody disagrees. Even as she is filled with sadness and regret she is still a killer and that is all she will ever be. She has grown to fear her own hands and she has grown to accept that her thoughts will never leave her. Trapped in a cell of her own design, walls covered in the tears of a killer and the blood of a human. Mind filled with the differences betwixt the two beings. How a killer will cry and a human will bleed. And she will be stuck with both roles. Slashing her skin hoping that one day she will be able to feel the pain that he did. Hoping that one day it will be enough to pay for his mothers sorrows. Praying that if she died they would celebrate, saying that it would only take a matter of time. She cried each day and night hoping that someone would see how she wasn’t a monster. Maybe one day someone would see that she felt the pain, just as they did. Maybe she just needed more pain? Maybe then they would see.

[sirassban]

artist in denial of being depressed: omg this 2 month long art block has been crazy... sorry i haven't updated any of my fics in a long while! it's just been super difficult to daydream! so weird that i've lost a little bit of passion for my current comfort character and ocs... this couldn't possibly have any implications or alternative explanations

[sirassban]

Vent art