#a far better fit thank primus I could not for the life of me get a harness on Jolteon and considered their high energy nature

[shadowcat222]

Trying to think of a pokemon version of tfa Butterscotch and I may have settled on a line.. Luxray is a bit big for the role but Volt's tall anyway-

In reading pokedex entries Mightyena was the only contender for a while, being the right size, adequately not spikey and/or intensely aggressive, responded well to commands.

But Luxray fits Butterscotch a bit better. And still has a lotta potential as a very alert, social, and protective pokemon.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hey I read your oxygen loss scenarios and I absolutely loved them, even if they made me really sad at first, but I still love them entirely! If you're still doing them, could you do one with Fort Max?

Thanks a bunch! Angst with a happy ending is kind of my favorite thing in the world, so I'm glad others feel the same! It absolutely works well with our big Maxy boy!

Here's the other posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: You're Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Fort Max

·Somehow, he's fallen for a being so small they fit in his cupped palms, and yet the two of you fit together so well he can't complain. Though he's a tad bit overprotective, you don't mind at all, and understand what drives the behavior even if he doesn't say it. What matters is that he's improving, and adores you so much every little activity is better in his mind when done with you, even just chilling and managing his security reports. That's why you're on his desk at the moment, relaxing on the human sized furniture he occasionally uses as paperweights when you're not around. Every so often you'll look up and find him glancing your way with a loving expression just visible through his attempt to remain neutral, after which point he'll dart his optics back to his work and pretend he's been busy the whole time. You can't help but think you're the reason he can't get much done.

·In addition to his filing reports, he has his monitors open at all times, each of which feeds him the security information for the various sections and systems of the ship. Most of the time there's nothing to report, save for hijinks going wrong or an experiment accidentally knocking things offline, yet he's always quick to respond. The rapid reactions to potential threats has put him on surprisingly good terms with Red Alert. Thus you're none too alarmed when he sees something unusual on one data feed and immediately gets to investigating, his large digits tapping away for answers while he vocalizes his thought process. Curious as always as to what might be the source of the issue, you move in wordlessly and are placed on his shoulder without having to ask. Having you watch him work always makes him feel quite proud after all.

·Initially the issue appears to be a simple bug in the programming of the communication systems, an inconvenient but none too hard to fix dilemma. Seeking out the source however, he finds none of the expected signs of an internal miscalculation, and before you can ask what's wrong he's messaging the bridge with a full alert. You listen as an audibly erratic signal forces him to keep things brief; emergency defense units and protocols need to be scrambled now, the ship is suffering an encrypted hack and a physical assault is undoubtedly inbound. While you feel instinctive fear at every word, somehow being in his presence and seeing him take command lessens that to a remarkable extent, for not much can get through your partner when he's on alert. Unfortunately for him he's anything but unafraid.

·When the line inevitably goes dead, he actually struggles to recall the next phase of his crisis response plans, as having you right beside him makes doing anything but protecting his delicate partner seem insignificant. Only by reminding himself that protecting you requires him to protect the ship is he able to get moving. Double checking your position on his shoulder, he clarifies that you'll be going to the nearest secure zone before he heads off to check various rendezvous points, as the crew is trained for this and the silent alarm has already been triggered. As you settle in on the broad expanse beside his helm, he just manages to grab the last of his spare weapons before a cataclysmic tremor rocks the ship. An audible rumbling through the ship blocks out all sound as you briefly tumble through the air.

·Catching you in a mad dash, he bombards you with questions as to possible injuries before you can clarify that you're fine. Tragically the relief on his face isn't something you get to enjoy for long. A second metallic rumble through the Lost Light turns his expression to a scowl. The enemy must have snagged them with a kind of anchor, he surmises, which no doubt means they'll be boarding in very short order. He needs to get you out of here now. Knowing that high stress situations can exhaust him in ways he's still not used to, you hold one of his digits tightly from your place on his palm. You're ready, you assure him, and you know he's going to be just fine. It works in the smallest way. The two of you draw strength from shared reassuring smiles before he leaves the safety of his office to start moving.

·As usual, he's not really afraid for his own sake as he moves through the hallways, due in no small part to his massive size and strength. For you though, he has to at least admit to himself that he's terrified. Hearing and feeling the tremor as intensely as he did means it must have come from somewhere uncomfortably close by, and that means the likelihood of encountering a threat in the next few minutes was remarkably high. The intensity of Cybertronian combat made such an occurrence not unlikely to be fatal for squishy little you. Yet as he recalls the closest potential drop off spot he can secure you at, he can't help but think on his role as a protector of this ship and how his responsibilities seem divided at the moment. While he has to keep you from harm, the same is true of the crew, and he can hardly ensure your safety if the ship is compromised...

·The decision to take the route he settles on is one not made easily, but it still feels proper. By going a less direct way he can check on multiple key locations only a little out of the way, helping to ensure that protocol is being followed and that the enemy isn't overwhelming their defenses. He can get you somewhere safe, while protecting you and the rest of the crew at once. It doesn't feel ideal, but he has to do his job, right? You can't be safe without the ship, unlike a Cybertronian who can at least endure the vacuum of space and even has a fair chance of surviving a planets fiery atmosphere... Primus, he can't handle thinking about those things. Focusing on getting you to safety along with everyone else is what he has to think of instead, especially with the sensation of your tiny body so warm and delicate in his palm, which he tries to also draw comfort from.

·As you trust him above all else, you don't ask any questions as he moves through the ship, sneaking as much as a bot of his size can in the open hallways. You're hardly scared for your own sake with Fort Max holding you close to his spark. In fact, the world beyond doesn't seem scary at all from this perspective. Being such a massive bot equals out to a rather strong spark, and as close to it as you are, you can feel it humming even now. It's kind of like a miniature sun with how warm and alive it makes you feel. Silly as it sounds, you do believe it feels stronger than when you first met him, as if the healing he's done since has made his very spirit grow brighter. For the sake of that hard earned recovery you hope everything goes smoothly today. It's enough to make you hold on to him a little tighter, just to convey your support.

·Eons of training prevent him from being taken by surprise, but he feels far from prepared as he detects enemy movement down a hallway. The aliens are large, numerous, and well armed. Regardless of their intent to take prisoners, he knows he can't let them go, as the mere possibility of them hurting even a single being on this ship is too much for him to take. Knowing they have to be taken care of is unfortunate with you in his care, as he doesn't want you to see him in combat. But... he trusts himself enough not to take it too far, a realization that makes it easier for him to whisper a warning and secure you in a tiny maintenance hatch, from which you will be safe and hopefully won't observe much. As soon as you promise to stay put he takes off to end the threat as quickly as he can.

·From your spot the chaos of battle is mostly the noises that reach your ears, but through them you're still able to recognize Fort Max as the imminent victor, if only because the fight is so one sided he hardly has to make a sound. It still makes you curl up in the little shelter and hope for it to be over as soon as possible. Yet the darkness of the maintenance shaft makes worrying a tad bit difficult... in fact, it makes you oddly tired. Exhaustion you didn't even notice is suddenly weighing you down, making the battle seem so far away and insignificant, all despite how clearly you realize now isn't the time to sleep. Perhaps the rush of all this has simply worn you down?

·Max finishes off the batch of enemies quickly and without a trace of the usual thrill of battle. He doesn't want to enjoy combat the way he once did, or feel the way he used to when he was at his worst and tearing foes apart actually felt good... As soon as the last enemy is down he returns to you, actually thinking he made the right call for once in checking key locations like this, for now this batch won't be able to hurt anyone. Though his usual luck shows through when he returns and finds you extremely groggy, to the point that even as a bot without medical experience he knows something is wrong, and he scoops you up immediately to start looking for injuries. You react amicably to his concern and assure him you're fine, but your breathless tone gives away that something is obviously affecting your respiration. In a series of horrifying realizations he connects the dots.

·The ship being hacked must have affected everything, including the life support systems you need for the air to be breathable, which he should have considered as a possibility from the very beginning. Without a moment to spare, he tucks you close to his chest and charges towards the medical bay. It's painfully obvious to him now that he made the wrong decision. He should have prioritized you over everything, should have anticipated there being additional threats, should have done a million other things... Hearing your weak reassurance only makes it hurt more. Unable to comprehend what's going on and not getting anything from him but whispered apologies, you just try to stay awake to support him as he runs through the ship at full speed. The only thing that stops him is an ambush from a full legion of enemies, though thankfully he still has enough of a grip to shelter you when the energy weapons start firing. Your tiny form is shielded by the impenetrable armor of his curled body as he briefly retreats to secure you once again, but this time his charge into combat is anything but controlled.

·From a little cubby you watch him unleash total vengeance on a horde of unprepared combatants, his incredible strength reducing enemy weapons and bodies to shreds without a trace of hesitation. Yet as you slip from consciousness there's no fear in your heart. Only sadness, for his sake and your own, as his resurfaced trauma tears into him yet again. It's worse than that though, he blames himself almost more than the enemies he tears apart, because protecting you was supposed to be his job. He'd told himself you needed the ship secure to be safe, but had he even considered the air you needed to breathe? It should have been obvious. Fighting somehow dulls the pain, as if the little rush of every kill helps his processor subdue the ache, and as the enemy needs to die regardless for their crimes against you he doesn't hesitate to go all in. The heated blur of battle overtakes him so completely he almost doesn't realize when he's joined by backup Autobots on his security team until there's not an enemy left to kill.

·Your last conscious perception is his face as strong hands lift you gently, followed by muffled instructions to get you to the medical bay. Some part of you knows he won't rest until every threat on the ship is dealt with, and you're correct. As you're whisked away to the medical bay, he takes no prisoners as he initiates his defense, rallying the gathering bots to annihilate those who would have turned them into a quick profit. But with every blow, he can only think of you. As he's cheered on by his fellows, he can only think of you. At the final declaration of victory and the rebooting of the systems, he can only think of you... Not even knowing the medics saved you and that you'll fully recover assuages his guilt. If anything, as he washes the blood off his servos and forgoes the festivities to sit by your bedside, he's certain he's never felt more like a monster...

·When you wake up there's a lovely warmth all around you, coupled with a gentle hum through the air that you know has been there in the past. Open eyes let you see a familiar wall of a chest, and through the oxygen mask you happily whisper Fort Max's name, making the hulking bot twitch in surprise as he looks down to you. It's with a smile you realize he was dozing with you shielded beneath his tented form. Remembering the haze of chaos and danger, you reach out to him as he offers a gentle hand to adjust the blankets laid loosely over your small body, but despite the fact that you're both okay you only see sadness in his optics. At your first prompt he lightly deflects with a sad smile. At your second his face falls and the whole ordeal comes tumbling out of him, with particular emphasis on how he failed to protect you when it truly mattered, something that impacts him so greatly he sheds a few tears as he lays his head in his hand.

·Heart breaking at the sight, you quickly point out the multiple times he charged into battle for you, though he counters by recalling how savagely he killed his enemies in front of you. It was the kind of brutality he'd thought himself beyond, but if he isn't, how can he be safe for you? It takes all the strength you have to sit up and firmly request his attention. At what point, you ask, were any of his actions not in some way motivated by the greater good? Even if he didn't know everything that was going to happen, did he once abandon you? Of course not, because he's a good bot, and you know he is. Before he can bring up one more point about his perceived failure you remind him that he's come impossibly far, enough that no setback today could undo his progress, and that you're so proud of him. As the weakness forces you to lie back and he leans in with concern, you smile and point out that everything he's done has been to the benefit of others, whether it be you or the crew. For once he can't argue. Curling protectively around you once more, he decides to let himself be happy that you're safe, shaken but reassured by your faith in him. More than anything, it gives him faith in himself.

[nonbinarybrainstorm]

Thunderclash Ruins Normal Spike for TFA Roddy

So, by popular demand or at least high interest, I’ve written my tfa!Roddy and ll!Thunders fic idea

Content: size kink, tummy bulge, excessive cum, kindling feelings

Enjoy!

Shots fire over the battlefield with resounding explosions as they make impact on the gray stone around them. Rodimus Prime pushes his back against a low outcropping and checks his bow, cursing as he takes in the damage. It was going to need extensive repairs after this and as it is now, he probably would only be able to get a few more shots in. Well, better make them count. He whips around to aim above his cover, targeting towards the Decepticons charging at him at full speed. Shutting his optics for just a flicker of a moment, thanking Primus that at the very least his team had managed to getaway. He pulls back and is just about to release as a sudden flash of light and a thunderous boom shakes the thin atmosphere, startling him and making his shot fly wide. Everything goes still as the dust begins to settle and a large silhouette lifts from the ground. It’s a mech like none Rodimus has ever seen, large and powerful like a Decepticon but land-bound like an Autobot. All Rodimus can think this mech could be is back up for the Decepticons here but they were far from needing any. What was going on?

Thunderclash looks around, dazed and confused, trying to gather his bearings and make sense of what just happened. Oh, right, Brainstorm happened, his processor finally provides helpfully. He turns to spot some unusual looking transformers emblazoned with the Decepticon insignia making him go on guard immediately. The war may be over but that certainly didn’t seem to stop any Decepticons they’ve met so far from wanting to continue hostilities. Realizing they were already on the attack as he puts his stance wide, he traces their line of attack to find their quarry. His optics land on a small bot, a mini and at that moment Thunderclash recognizes his shape, his colors and realizes he must be in another universe for he’s staring at a small replica of Rodimus Prime. He doesn’t need to spare a moment more to think about it, whatever the current situation, these Decepticons were going down. He wasn’t about to let any incarnation of Rodimus come to harm, not even that one evil one they met.

Rodimus watches in slack-jawed awe as the new arrival swiftly knocks the front-most Decepticon back like he weighed nothing more than an annoying stack of datapads. The mech’s movements were practiced and elegant like he’d been doing this all his life, a true machine of war. It didn’t make any sense in Rodimus’s processor as to why this mech who should be among Megatron’s most elite was defending him and he knew this mech was defending him after seeing that look in his red optics. Before Rodimus can come to any kind of census in his processor, the Decepticons who had been on the verge of bringing him to his end are retreating with heavy wounds of terribly dented armor and rips through their plating leaking energon. The mech turns around now covered with blast marks and scratches that don’t even seem to phase him with the occasional splatter of energon here and there. None of the energon could be his with how there wasn’t a single significant wound on his body. The strange mech smiles down at him and Rodimus can feel his frame heat inexplicably.

Thunderclash slowly walks towards the small Rodimus and kneels down to reach his hand out to him.

“Are you alright?” Thunderclash calls softly to him, not wanting to startle him.

The mech has an Autobot brand on his chest but he’s so tall and big, Rodimus can’t fathom it. Without thinking, Rodimus reaches it out and places his hand on the mech’s outstretched one. Upon the light touch, the mech’s hand wraps around his completely, encasing it gently but firmly in a warm embrace before he’s helped up from kneeling. Rodimus stares up mech and feels very small as he stands to see he only reaches the mech’s spike cover which serves to fill his processor with very unseemly thoughts that make his faceplates heat up. He blames it on the high of battle and pushes the thought roughly away.

“Yes, thank you,” Rodimus keeps his optics firmly trained on his face.

Thunderclash smiles down at this mini Rodimus and then feels his face heat in embarrassment as he realizes he hasn’t even introduced himself yet, “Oh, uh, I’m Thunderclash by the way.”

“Thunderclash,” Rodimus repeats and clears his intake, embarrassed at how dreamy his voice sounds saying this mech’s name.

“You must be Rodimus Prime, the Rodimus Prime of this universe that is,” Thunderclash says and releases his hand when he notices he was still holding it.

Rodimus blinks up in surprise and nods, “Yes, you’re from another universe? Do you know my alternate there?”

“I am,” Thunderclash’s smiles warmly again making Rodimus’s spark stutter, “He’s my captain, the captain of the Lost Light. I’m rather proud of that claim.”

A burst of jealousy that Rodimus knows is completely unreasonable bubbles up in his spark as he puts on a smile for Thunderclash.

“That sounds nice,” Rodimus scratches the back of his helm nervously.

Suddenly, his communicator beeps and he sees the message is coming in from command. He looks up apologetically at Thundeclash who waves him off with understanding. Rodimus nods his thanks and walks a few steps away to answer his communicator.

“Rodimus Prime,” Ultra Magnus’s strong voice pops in with a burst of static, “What is your situation?”

“I remained behind to give my team a chance to escape,” Rodimus reports, chancing a glance at Thunderclash every so often seeing him on his own call, “The Decepticons retreated after I received some aid from…”

Rodimus stalls as the ridiculousness of Thunderclash’s existence crashes over him. He couldn’t just tell Ultra Magnus he’d got help from a giant Autobot from another universe, that would sound insane.

“Rodimus?” Ultra Magnus prompts him, sounding concerned.

Rodimus shakes his head and responds, “I received some aid from a surprisingly adept civilian who helped me beat back the Decepticons.”

“That is… surprising,” Ultra Magnus says over the comm, thankfully sounding more surprised than doubtful, “We will have to give this civilian a commendation. A transport is set to arrive at your destination in two cycles with a Red Alert. We anxiously await your return.”

“Thank you, sir,” and with that the call ends.

Thunderclash walks up to him, “I’ve been told that I’m going to be picked up in just a few hours. So, I guess I’m here until then. You?”

“Transport is on its way,” Rodimus shrugs then tilts his head, “Hours?”

Thunderclash shrugs, “Earth time. It caught on pretty quickly on our ship.”

“Okay…” Rodimus says not sure how else to respond.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of them quite sure what to say. Thunderclash pats his legs for a moment and looks at an outcropping of rocks, thoughts flitting behind his optics.

“It’s going to be a while until I can get back, until either of us are going to get back,” Thunderclash points to the outcrop and looks back at Rodimus, “I’m going to go sit over there, maybe catch some recharge. Feel free to join me if you wish.”

Thunderclash walks over to the outcropping and slides down its surface so his back is to it and stretches his strong arms out before resting them on his knees. Rodimus watches him, feeling a sudden sense of indecision. There was a real possibility he was never going to see this mech again and Rodimus wanted… He didn’t know what he wanted really or, rather, he wanted to many things. He knew exactly what he wanted what was he kidding himself for? If they’re never going to see each other again after this then there was no harm in testing the waters or even taking the plunge. If he asked the worst that would happen is that he would be embarrassed for two whole cycles and that would be the end of it. Making a decision, Rodimus walks up to Thunderclash and rests a hand on his knee, getting Thunderclash to look up at him with an open expression.

“Uh, I would like to give you my thanks,” Rodimus drums his fingers on Thunderclash’s knee, “for saving me, I mean.”

Thunderclash smiles sweetly at him, genuinely touched, “It was no trouble.”

“No, I know,” Rodimus gets closer, moving his hand to Thunderclash’s shoulder, leaning in closer with his spark spinning a mile a minute, “I saw how you defeated them with barely straining a cable. I just want you to know…”

Thunderclash doesn’t move as Rodimus leans in, optics traveling to his derma and staying stock still, not entirely believing that this was happening. Rodimus leans in close and presses a kiss against his lips which Thunderclash would like to say that he had a bit more self-control and didn’t immediately melt into it but he did. Having this small version of Rodimus in his arms was like a dream. He doesn’t remember when he pulled Rodimus into his lap, but there he was, kneeling and kissing Thunderclash like his life depended on it. Thunderclash trails his hands over Rodimus’s frame, unable to resist the mech in front of him, feeling how small he is with his frame fit perfectly into Thunderclash’s hands. One of Rodimus’s knees rubs Thunderclash’s panel and it snaps open to let his spike pressurize between them. He tries to apologize to Rodimus but his words turn into a gasp as he feels Rodimus grab the head of his spike and run his thumb over it.

“Is this okay?” Rodimus pants out and Thunderclash just nods.

Thunderclash feels his processor practically melt as Rodimus starts stroking his spike, eyeing it with a hungry optic that Thunderclash had never even imagined on the face of his captain. Then, Rodimus uncovers his valve and lowers down in front of Thunderclash’s spike so he can push up against it with his wet valve. Making a choked off sound in his intake, Thunderclash grabs onto what he can of Rodimus as he balances on Thunderclash’s knees and starts grinding against Thunderclash’s spike. Thunderclash just moans and watches as Rodimus’s, this alternate Rodimus’s valve lips hug his spike as Rodimus moves his hips along it, gasping whenever his node rubbed against the head of Thunderclash’s spike. Rodimus’s legs begin to shake so Thunderclash takes him in his arms and moves to his knees so he can keep grinding his spike between the hot folds of Rodimus’s valve. He looks down at Rodimus whose optics are blazing with light and his face is practically split with how wide his smile is, optics firmly locked on Thunderclash’s spike.

Thunderclash moves his hips faster, getting Rodimus to cry out sweetly and pant, hot to the touch in Thunderclash’s hands. Then Rodimus grabs the head of his spike and squeezes, sending a jolt through Thunderclash that makes him stop cold, panting and moaning heavily.

“I want you to overload inside me,” Rodimus leans up and captures Thunderclash’s derma in a slow, gentle kiss before breaking it with a swipe of his glossa over Thunderclash’s lower lip.

“I don’t think…” Thunderclash vents out between pants only to screw his optics shut as Rodimus lines himself up with Thunderclash’s spike.

“Just go slow,” Rodimus trails his hand down Thunderclash’s length with one hand as grips Thunderclash’s arm with the other.

When Thunderclash still hesitates, Rodimus pushes himself down onto his spike some, the head of Thunderclash’s spike already stretching him obscenely so his node rubs against Thunderclash’s spike. Leaning down to steady himself on one hand, Thunderclash pushes in at a painfully slow pace, terrified of hurting this Rodimus. As the spike pushes deep inside of the wet heat of Rodimus’s valve, he relaxes to let more and more in. Rodimus moans as he sees how his plating shifts to let Thunderclash in, a bulge forming on his abdomen where Thunderclash’s spike is. Thunderclash feels himself shaking as he tenses every cable in his body to keep him from simply sinking into Rodimus, his valve impossibly tight around his spike. He can feel heat gather in his array and pressure build in his spike, waiting to be released.

Rodimus grips Thunderclash’s chestplate and tugs him down sharply to look him in the optic, “You’re not allowed to overload yet, not until you’re all the way in then you can.”

Something ignites along Thunderclash’s lines and he bites his derma as he continues to push in slowly, using every ounce of his willpower to hold back which comes harder as more of his spike pushes into Rodimus. Rodimus feels Thunderclash’s spike twitch in his valve as he’s stretched wide and filled so completely his hips twitch and spasm, unable to escape the almost overwhelming sensations. Finally, Thunderclash feels Rodimus’s valve lips press against his pelvic plates and sighs with relief, pausing as he vents heavily, heat and charge clouding his processor. Rodimus runs a hand over his lower plating over the shallow bulge and bites his derma as he writhes on the spike, gasping as the ridges rub against the walls of his valve.

“Well come on,” Rodimus pants excitedly, his optics flaring erraticly, “I know you’re desperate to overload. So, do it, I want to feel you overload inside me.”

Thunderclash chokes off a groan and practically overloading upon Rodimus’s command, filling him with hot transfluid, so that some pushes past his spike to drip onto the gray stone below. Rodimus cries out as he’s filled, overloading on Thunderclash’s spike, his valve unable to tighten anymore around Thunderclash’s spike that’s filling him so completely. They come down from their overloads rapidly rather than gradually and charge immediately begins to build again in Rodimus’s systems and he moves his hips however much he can.

“Keep going,” Rodimus begs, gripping desperately onto Thunderclash, “Please, I need more.”

Thunderclash swallows a moan and pants out, “Say that again.”

Rodimus groans in frustration and all but shouts, “Just frag me! I want you to use that spike of yours to- Ah!”

Thunderclash thrusts and Rodimus digs his fingers into Thunderclash’s arms, unable to form words, barely even able to think as Thunderclash’s spike fills him over and over. Unable to control himself any longer Thunderclash let’s loose, pounding into Rodimus as he keeps him still in one arm, his hand holding Rodimus’s hip tightly. It’s fast and rough, with the obscene sounds of Rodimus’s wet valve being used. Overload takes them both more violently this time, charge licking their frames in broad arches as Thunderclash spills again into Rodimus’s valve, making Rodimus feel warm and heavy in a way he’s never known before. They calm down completely this time and Rodimus winces slightly as Thunderclash’s spike depressurizes out of him, letting cold air hit his valve. Rodimus scrambles to hold onto something as Thunderclash stands up rapidly and walks him over to a taller bolder and sets him down gently. Pulling a clean rag out, Thunderclash begins cleaning him up, muttering under his vents.

Rodimus puts a hand on Thunderclash’s chest, getting him to stop for a moment.

“What is it?” Rodimus asks and Thunderclash looks incredibly chagrined.

“I should’ve had more control, now look at you, you’re all…” Thunderclash rubs his fingers into Rodimus’s abdomen plating soothingly, encouraging them to return to their normal extension.

“Stretched out?” Rodimus offers teasingly but Thunderclash only looks regretfully.

Rodimus pulls Thunderclash’s face down and kisses him again.

“I liked that a lot,” Rodimus smiles up at him, “I hope you did too.”

Thunderclash nods sheepishly and stares down at Rodimus, a faint pang forming in his spark. Wanting every moment he can have of this fantasy, he finishes cleaning them both up then pulls Rodimus to him, to hold him and kiss him sweetly until he gets a notice that just in a few minutes, he’ll be able to go home. The swirling blue vortex appears suddenly in the air and with one last farewell, one last kiss, Thunderclash walks through the hazy portal, returning to his own universe and leaving Rodimus alone.

Later, his transport arrives right on time with Cliffjumper and Red Alert in tow. He boards it with barely a word, feeling a strange kind of melancholy that he didn’t know how to describe. Red Alert guides him to the small medbay and checks him over. To lost in his own thoughts, he misses the concerned glances of the transport crew and the critical gaze of Cliffjumper. Red Alert smirks and that’s what catches his optic.

“What?” Rodimus asks, his tone reflecting his sour demeanor.

Red Alert just shakes her head, “Usually, mechs are a bit more cheerful after getting fragged to within an inch of their life. Have fun with our hero did we?”

Rodimus splutters and Red Alert waits patiently for him to form coherent words. He has to clear his intake of static, her comment throwing him so off guard.

“How do you mean?” he asks as flatly as he can even though he’s completely on edge now.

She points to his abdomen and explains simply, “Your plating is distended at quarter capacity. That only happens for two reasons and seeing as how I didn’t have to turn you the right way out again, you got fragged.”

Rodimus looks away, faceplate heating to a bright red, “Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” Red Alert chuckles, “I guess your hero got all the commendation they wanted then?”

Rodimus doesn’t say anything at first then very quietly says, “He was… nice.”

Red Alert stops and turns around at that to see the melancholy from before return. She walks over and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Oh, Rodimus, I’m sure, you’ll see him again.”

They journey back to Cybertron and Rodimus tries very hard to forget a mech with kind red optics, and a sweet smile.

[darksidekelz]

Last 20

Credit to @writingwife-83

Thanks for tagging me, @hanuko​

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20,  just list them all.) Choose your favourite opening line, tag some friends!

I may have skipped a few of the more … content warn-y ones.

1. Living in a Lightless World (TFP) -  The scenario was a familiar one.  A hard, unyielding table beneath him, the sickening sound of Autobot voices drifting in the surrounding space, powerful restraints around his wrists, his chest – cables deactivated, as well as his audio transmitters.  Soundwave was helpless, again at the Autobots’ mercy.  But this time, he didn’t care.

2. I Know What You Did (G1) -  Praxus was a surprisingly good city for business.  Sure, it had always carried the image of pristine totalitarianism – the home of the Enforcers, of the most uptight mechs on the face of Cybertron.  And yes, everyone had laughed when Swindle had voiced his intentions to open shop there.  'No one will buy from you.’ ��'You’ll be arrested in a week.’  Well, the laugh was on them!

3. All My Decepticons (Transformers) -  Our show begins in a lovely little suburban neighborhood.  The sky is clear, and a slight breeze rustles the leaves in the trees.  We zoom in on a house, picturesque and welcoming, like something out of The Brady Bunch, only, instead of being scaled to humans, it is scaled to giant robots.  Why?  Because how else are the giant robot inhabitants going to fit inside?

4. Call Me Master (TFP) - It hurt to see him like this.  Soundwave had always come across as untouchable - like a benevolent deity who had, through some miracle of fate, chosen to grace Megatron with his undying loyalty and devotion.  

5. Hope for the Hopeless (TFA) -  A flash of metal, a distorted scream, the biting sting of claws in his plating.  Deadlock was fighting for his life, and nothing else mattered. 

6. Fear Itself (Red vs Blue) -  Felix had been expecting a little more fanfare when he’d stepped through the gate - a small army of people he’d wronged in his life, for starters.  That useless pirate had claimed to have been confronted by his own victims when he’d been shoved through earlier. Judging by the whistling abyss that greeted him, however, the gate had something different in store this time.

7. A Single Thread (G1) -  It had been a long and arduous road, but finally, Swindle’s work was starting to pay off.  He smiled at the message he held in his hands:

8. Sentinel Prime and the Quest for Booty (TFA) -  Sentinel Prime was kind of a big deal.  He led the Elite Guard, second in power only to the Magnus himself.  His presence inspired awe amongst the peons beneath him.  He was handsome, powerful, a master of strategy, and a beacon of charisma.  There was not a bot alive that came close to rivaling his glory.  And yet, he had one small problem.

9. Mercy for the Damned (MTMTE) - Primus, spare my spark. 

Pain came first – the pain of his body being systematically torn to shreds from the inside out, through a means and manner that defied the laws of nature.  

10. Dodgeball (Beast Wars) -  Megatron loved being the center of attention.  He loved watching the time tick down on the big clock 9, 8, 7, counting the seconds to their victory.  It was close enough to taste, intoxicating.  He could see Optimus, several yards ahead of him, wide open.  This was his time to shine, the moment that would go down in history.  There was no time to savor it.  It was do or die.

Megatron threw the ball.

11. Shall We Dance? (G1) -  It had been a year, now, since Cybertron last witnessed bloodshed.  After eons of fighting, anyone would be ready to call it quits, even Galvatron, it seemed.  In the aftermath of the hate plague, and the subsequent return of Optimus Prime, a peace treaty had been hastily drafted, and much to the surprise of everyone involved, it had been obeyed. 

12. Remembering Altihex (G1) -  There had been no battle for Altihex - no blaze of glory, no honorable sacrifices, no heroic speeches to go down in the history books - it was just gone, taken in the night as its citizens slept in their beds, blissfully unaware of their own impending demise.       

13. Reaching for the Sun (G1) - “It’s not enough.”  

With tense shoulders and narrowed optics, Onslaught sifted through the mass of information that Blast Off had handed him, divided between five different data pads, all confirming his every fear.  

14. Exceeds Expectations (IDW 1) - “Were you able to find it?” Perceptor glanced up from his data pad, cold blue eyes scrutinizing Prowl, trying to uncover his every uncouth motivation and secret.  As smart as Perceptor was, he was hopelessly outmatched in this respect.

15. Irresponsible Infatuation (IDW 1) -  Prowl was a sensible mech, sometimes the only sensible mech, a fact which he was all too aware of.  He could scheme with the best of them, plan for every contingency, and he wasn’t afraid to let his spark interfere with what needed to be done for victory.  

16. Living in a Box (G1) -  Okay.  This ain’t so bad.  I mean, I’m absent one body – I can’t see or hear, feel or taste or touch or smell.  It’s like my worst nightmare come to life, and y’know?  Can’t say what I was ever scared for.  

17. I’ll Follow You Forever (TFP) -  Step left, stoop low, lean away, cross-counter, go for the throat.  Soundwave’s opponent wasn’t a big mech, but he was broad, heavy, and well-armored – though the last wasn’t uncommon for a gladiator.  The ring wasn’t kind to fragile mechs – even Soundwave had piled on the armor as soon as he could afford it.  But even so, the extra protection didn’t change the fact that his light build was ill-suited for his chosen profession.  

18. Sacrifice (Armada) - The job was a means to an end. That was what Sideways told himself day after day.  When he woke up in the morning, dreading the upcoming drudgery, working his poor frame to the core, ungrateful customers – the creepers, the swindlers, the complainers.  And likewise, before the fell into a deep recharge at night, broken both body and soul.  

19. Maybe Tomorrow Will Be Better (MTMTE) - Some days were worse than others.

Drift wasn’t a happy mech; he wasn’t exactly unique in that regard.  Most mechs had baggage – four million years of war would do that.  Drift knew this.  But that did exactly nothing to make him feel better.

20. Guilty Conscience (IDW 1)-  Wing had always had a little rebellious streak.  It had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.  And yet, though it condemned him on a weekly basis, it was also his second most valuable trait, after his compassion.  

I sure did forget I’d written some of these. Bummed I didn’t make it far enough back to get any of my big Shockblurr stuff up here, ‘cuz I still really like those ones. Also, I like the lone non-TF fic sitting in there (we ignore the OW one).

Feel free to do this if you want. I am too anxious a bean to tag.

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - A Happy Ending

A/N – I cannot believe that I’ve got to this point. I loved getting here, but I’m sad to see it go. Fine, if we must part ways then I’m glad it’s to a happy ending. Based on headcanons by @rocksinmuffin and @straightouttacybertron and starring fan art by the miraculous @bloodypoptart

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Rodimus pouted from his position on the balcony overlooking the entire crew. This was where he usually made announcements, but no, this time you had called for an announcement and Megatron had simply agreed to whatever it was you were about to say. If you only relayed what you were going to say then Rodimus would say it for you, but no, apparently you were going to take one of the best parts of his job away. You assured him it was only going to be this once but he highly doubted that, once you found out how great it was to say anything you wanted while everyone else was forced to listen.

You glanced over to Rodimus sympathetically as if reading his thoughts. He gave a sarcastic thumbs up, indicating you were to start, although he already knew what you were going to say with Swerve stood by your side. Everyone already knew you were dating, thanks to Rewind. This was clearly an announcement to say so officially, probably to save face after the week’s earlier embarrassment. It’s not like he couldn’t say that for you. On his spot. On his ship. As Captain. But it was fine, he wasn’t jealous or anything, so long as you would hurry it up already so he could get back to actually following his quest… as Captain.

While Rodimus heaved a dramatic sigh, which you ignored, you looked at Swerve, silently affirming that he was ready. Swerve grabbed your hand, giving a small squeeze to let you know he was as prepared as he could be, though he was secretly more frightened than he’d ever been in his entire life, including all the years he’d spent in the war; war was inevitably something all Cybertronians were used to, commitment and marriage were much scarier. In war, you could choose to rely only on yourself if it was so desired, in a marriage, you suddenly weren’t alone anymore and as such had so much more to lose.

“You sure you want me to do this?” You whispered to him as the crowd below started to get restless; it reminded you of your first day on the ship, when you had to be publicly announced for the crew to assimilate to you.

“They’ll take it from you better,” Swerve said supportively, but what he really meant was that he had to hear it from you, if only to further prove the wedding was still happening and he wasn’t forcing you into it somehow.

You took a deep breath, not needing to ask for the crew’s attention as all optics were trained on you; even those who couldn’t leave their posts were undoubtedly watching you over the vid-screens. “Hi,” You waved somewhat awkwardly. Rodimus rolled his optics and came over with a microphone, thinking about how he never needed one when it was him making the speeches.

You nodded in thanks, hefting the heavy microphone that was made for Cybertronian size and was almost the same length as your torso. “Okay everyone, so it’s pretty obvious me and Swerve are dating but that’s not what I’m here to announce. Look, before I say what I’ve got to say, well… I’m- Uh, we’re not here to seek validation or for you to ask a bunch of questions or anything like that, it’s just, me and Swerve… Well, um, we’re getting married.”

You bit your lip, waiting for an uproar or maybe some cheering or even a deafening silence. You got neither the reaction you expected nor wanted, as almost the entire crew burst into fits of laughter.

You looked to Swerve for support, but he simply shrugged his shoulders, unsurprised that the crew thought it was all some kind of epic joke. You glanced at Rodimus, who was also in hysterics. Speaking into the microphone again, you said, “Hey, this uh, isn’t a joke, I’m serious, we really are getting married.”

Nobody heard you, but deep in the crowd, Rung, Chromedome, Rewind and Whirl were watching you very closely, knowing that you spoke the truth.

Whirl shook his head, deciding to take control of the situation once and for all. He blasted a loud shot into the ceiling from the one gun he’d managed to hide from Ultra Magnus and always carried around with him for such events that might be made more entertaining with bullets. The room fell silent as Whirl shouted, “THE NEXT PERSON TO LAUGH GETS VENTILATED. NOW, I DON’T KNOW WHAT (Y/N) SEES IN THAT IDIOT, FRAG, SHE’S PROBABLY JUST IN IT FOR THE FREE DRINKS BUT IT’S CLEAR THAT SHE’S NOT JOKING. YOU ALL SAW HOW SHE KISSED HIM ON THAT DAMN TAPE. SWERVE’S GOT GAME, I GUESS.”

You didn’t know what to say now that your entire speech had been derailed. You half expected things would get even crazier or that Ultra Magnus would interject, and it would turn into another debate about gun control. Instead, the entire room turned to you for confirmation and Ultra Magnus was too distracted to help as he cringed at the burn mark on the ceiling, clearly upset that his none of his Roomba armada would be able to reach the ceiling to clean it; besides that, he’d already lost far too many Roombas to the ‘secret’ fights the crew held.

“Yeah…” You said anxiously. “What Whirl said.”

Nobody said anything for a long time and finally Rodimus stepped forward, placing a comforting servo on your shoulder and smiling confidently. You thought he was the first to congratulate you in his own way, but little did you know, he was simply happy to be back in control with what he planned to do next.

“You heard the happy couple,” He beamed. “WE’VE GOT A WEDDING TO PLAN!”

Finally, there was a small cheer as everyone came to terms with what was happening. “Okay,” Rodimus said, “So I’m thinking we’ve got a lot to do and little time. Seven cycles sounds about right.”

You glanced at Swerve, seeing how everything was completely out of your hands; in seven days the two of you would be married. Everything in your life since joining the Lost Light had happened in whirlwind time, it should have been no surprise that your wedding would be no different.

“Alright,” Rodimus continued as he began pointing out people in the crowd, “Brainstorm and Perceptor, you two are on the (Y/N)’s bride outfit. Ultra Magnus, catering detail. Rewind, I want all kinds of documentation, I’m talking films, interviews with the bride and groom on their take on the love story, get everything you can. Blaster, you’re on music. Ten, Tailgate and Cyclonus, You three are on decorations.”

Cyclonus scowled, but before he could argue, Rodimus shouted his name, “HEY, DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! YOU NEVER USE THAT SWORD FOR ANYTHING USEFUL ANYMORE ANYWAY… Primus, at least use it to cut up some origami or something. What does that leave… Mirage, you’re on bartending duty since Swerve can’t be and, let’s see, um…”

Swerve stepped forward to protest his distaste for Mirage, his chief contender, serving drinks at his wedding, but you held him back, “You really wanna serve drinks at your own wedding?”

Swerve sighed, and wrapped his arm around you, “I guess not, but the reception will be at my bar, not his.”

“Whatever you need to sleep at night, handsome,” You patted his chassis.

Rodimus practically glowed as he made his final announcement, “And last but certainly not least, only I can be the priest or whatever as the Captain of th-”

“CO-CAPTAIN,” A voice from the throng called.

Rodimus leaned over the railing, curling his fist angrily, “WHO SAID THAT?!”

Nobody answered, and Rodimus straightened up, pouting. “Fine, as Co-Captain I will officiate, Megatron can… I dunno, Megatron can be Swerve’s best man I guess.”

Megatron gritted his dentae and while he and Rodimus argued it out, Swerve looked at you pitifully, “Should I even try arguing this one?”

You gave his servo a squeeze, “Honestly, I don’t think you’d win.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of you held onto one another, the calm in the eye of the storm until Rodimus said, “Till all are one,” marking that the speech was over.

“Hey,” Swerve said, “You okay to be on your own for a while? I’ve got to sort something out… It’s a surprise.”

You smiled, “How intriguing. You think you can keep a secret?”

“Every once in a while,” Swerve chuckled.

“You know, it’s bad to keep secrets in a marriage, this could very well destroy us.”

“We’re not married yet.”

“Fine,” You said playfully, “Keep your secrets. It’s just as well, I’ve got to see Rung anyway.”

Swerve kissed your head lovingly and the two of you parted ways, each on your own little mission, preparing to begin a new adventure, together.

It was taking you much longer than usual to get to Rung’s because every time someone saw you, they stopped to congratulate you, and more than once, you found your path blocked by various wedding preparations. You even heard talk that some of the bots were struggling to rearrange Swerve’s; you hoped that wasn’t true because if it was, Swerve was going to have an aneurism.

Finally, your goal was in sight and you foolishly thought you were going to make it to Rung’s office until you were once again plucked out of the air by Whirl who threw you into a supply closet, locking the door behind himself.

You remembered the days you used to be afraid of such a situation, now they had become your normal. Although breathless by the impromptu kidnapping, you decided you still had to thank Whirl for his earlier rescue in the speech, if it wasn’t for him, none of the ship’s hubbub would be happening right now.

“Whirl, I-”

Whirl waved his claw casually, “Yeah, yeah, can it fleshie, I got something important to say. ‘Kay, now I’m not saying that marrying Swerve is bad but I’ve gotta ask, you sure you don’t wanna switch to a real mech?” He pointed to himself. “I’m a real prize, y’know. Nobody can take me in a fight. Tell me, what’s better than that?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you doubled over laughing, holding onto his leg for support, “Whirl, what the hell man?”

“Don’t blow this off so easily, really think about it, this is a one-time offer, trading Swerve for me.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, still snickering. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but hey, if you would do me a favour and be my mech of honour, that’d be great.”

Whirl had seen enough of the films in Swerve’s bar to know what you were asking. He rolled his optic sarcastically, “You have no idea of what we could’ve had but sure, go with the orange guy. Fine, I guess I can be the mech of honour… Does that mean I get to kill Swerve if he runs?”

“I- Um- Maybe try not to do that.”

“What about stabbing him a little?”

“I’d uh- rather have him kept whole.”

“Gotcha,” Whirl attempted a wink, which ended up being one unusually long blink. “Psychological torture and a light-beating only.”

You patted his leg in a supporting manner, “Sure, that sounds like a deal.”

Turning around, Whirl unlocked the door, letting you out first. “As your mech of honour, I’m gonna go train. Gotta get buff if that orange scumbag tries to run. Primus, I hope he runs.”

You blew Whirl a kiss, which he tried hard to ignore blushing slightly anyway, “You do that big guy; you’ll be the best mech of honour a girl could have.”

Whirl walked away, leaving you to finally get to Rung’s office. You jumped up to the door buzzer, taking three attempts before you managed to press it, silently cursing yourself for not wearing your rocket boots.

Rung opened the door, a look of surprise contorting his features. He thought he’d be the last bot you would want to see, considering his slightly strained relationship with Swerve. “(Y/N), what a pleasant surprise. Is this a professional meeting or a social call?”

He highly doubted it was the latter, becoming further shocked when you claimed it to be just that. Settling himself down in his chair, and giving you a boost to the desk, he waited for you to set the tone of the conversation, ever conscious that if he spoke first, he would blur the lines between patient and friend. Although he didn’t fully approve on your and Swerve’s hasty decision, he was determined to be supportive, afraid that if he wasn’t you would stop visiting him in both personal and professional terms.

When it became clear that you weren’t sure how to start, Rung found it impossible to ignore his processor, and spoke up quietly, “Presumably, you’re set on your decision so I’ll spare the lecture and simply ask, is this definitely what you want?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking Rung in the optics, “More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I love him Rung. He makes me feel safe and God, so, so happy.”

Rung nodded, satisfied with you answer, “Very well. Then I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you. I um- Excuse me for getting straight to the point but I need to know something, how much do you know about human weddings?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid.”

You paced the table, taking time to find the right words, “Right… well, me and Swerve have decided that we’re going to somehow mesh our traditions, one wedding with the Endurae Ceremony thrown in. In human weddings there’s this role I need filling and it’s super important to pick the right person.”

Rung observed you, waiting for you to ask his advice on who to pick. He sighed, deciding to intervene before things got out of hand, “(Y/N), I cannot influence your choices on who to choose during your ceremony. It would be unethical-”

You grabbed his servo, “I want you to walk me down the aisle like the father of the bride is supposed to.”

Although Rung didn’t know what the significance was behind your request, he could tell from the tone of your voice that it was an important role. He took off his glasses, wiping away some coolant, “(Y/N), you’re sure about this?”

“Rung, you’ve guided me since my first steps on this crazy ship. You’ve made me a better person, and there is nobody I’d rather have giving me away than you. You’re the closest thing I have to a dad here and I want you by my side on my wedding day.”

Graciously, Rung bowed his head, “It would be my honour and a pleasure.”

You grinned, jumping to hug his chassis, feeling the comforting warmth of his arms wrapping around you, “Thank You.”

Rung stroked your back, waiting till you pulled away from him before speaking again. “The pleasure is all mine, though if you could tell me more about my role and how I am to fulfil it, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Yeah, sure. Well, to put it-”

You were interrupted by the sound of a gong echoing over the ship’s announcement system, followed by Rodimus’ impatient voice. “(Y/N), how many times have I gotta tell you to carry around your communicator? Honestly, it’s zero, but you’re slipping, forgetting it in your room. Do you know how rude that is? What if we needed to track you? Like we did, right now, today, for a VERY important thing.”

You stared at Rung, silently begging him to tell you your communicator hadn’t really been bugged with a tracking device like you would give a dog or child. Rung raised his servos sympathetically as Rodimus continued his rant.

“What? You think I’m gonna tell you what the super cool thing is. Guess again. But if you’re not in rec-room 2B in ten minutes- wait, scrap that, make it twenty, gotta account for those tiny little legs… so cute. Anyway, twenty minutes, or I make no promises on what I’ll do to your room. Captain out!”

You shook your head disbelievingly, “I uh, I guess I have to go. Sorry Rung, rain check?”

Rung chuckled light-heartedly, “Yes, of course. Go find out what Rodimus wants, and don’t worry about me. I’m going to do all the research I can into human weddings.”

He helped you down from the desk, wishing you well as you ran down the hallways, trying to beat the timer Rodimus had set, and cursing the entire time as a cramp formed, hitting you like a needle every few seconds.

When you finally got to rec-room 2B, Rodimus was waiting outside, tapping his pede. “Primus, did you skip leg day? I’ve been waiting here forever,” He whined.

You held your hand up, ready to argue, but quickly let it drop, still trying to catch your breath.

Rodimus shook his head, placing a servo on the small of your back and guiding you into the room where a table was waiting with three seats. Cyclonus sat on the left seat and Nautica on the right, leaving the tall, middle seat for you. With Nautica’s assistance, you clambered up, watching Rodimus as he ran out of the room.

“What’s going on?” You asked worriedly.

“Don’t know,” Nautica said. “Rodimus dragged me in here as quickly as he could. Told me if I waited long enough, he’d get me a whole set of new tools… I think that was a lie.”

You nodded thoughtfully, turning to the ever stoic Cyclonus. “Tailgate,” He answered curtly, as if that was any kind of explanation.

Rodimus, re-entered the room, placing both servos on his cheeks, his mouth forming into a socked ‘O’ as if he never knew you were there. “Why, what have we here?” He asked loudly, strutting in front of the table like a peacock. “Well, if it isn’t our table of judges for the brand new, one-time-only, mech of honour contest! Today, for our three judges, we have a line a mile long, full of hopeful contestants to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!” He revved his engines excitedly.

“Uh, Rodimus,” You squeaked, thinking of Whirl. “I already-”

“AND HERE’S CONTESTANT NUMBER ONE!”

Tailgate skipped in, clearly having been trained by Rodimus on exactly where to stand. His visor flashed eagerly as he waved at you.

Rodimus patted him on his shoulder, “Tailgate, why don’t you tell our panel a little bit about yourself and why you deserve to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!”

“Are you gonna shout that every time?” Nautica asked almost boredly, thinking of the tools she would never get.

“Withhold any comments until after the audition please, judge Nautica,” Rodimus commanded, his optics still trained on Tailgate who began his audition.

“Hi, I’m Tailgate and I’d make a great mech of honour for the same reasons I’d make a great Co-Co-Captain.”

A few other mechs peaked in from outside, trying to determine what they were supposed to say during their auditions.

“Rodimus,” You smiled awkwardly, feeling it stretch too far across your face.

“Not now judge,” Rodimus waved you off.

You sighed, seeing that there were no other options. “I already have a mech of honour!” You told the room, “I picked Whirl earlier.”

Riptide booed from outside, and Tailgate began muttering to himself, “Don’t get to be mech of honour, don’t get to be Co-Co-Captain, don’t get to be anything.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you were planning any of this,” You gestured at the line of mechs who were blocking the door to listen in.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus held his helm in his palm. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)… You know how impulsive I am, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t blame me!”

“I blame you!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the disappointment surrounding you. “Ugh, fine, I guess I can have two bridesmai- uh bridesmechs.”

Upon hearing this, Tailgate pushed Rodimus away from you, “As I was saying. I would be the best candidate for a tonne of reasons, right Cyclonus?” He winked.

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” Cyclonus deadpanned, leaving the room solemnly.

“Wha- CYCLONUS, COME BAAAACK,” Tailgate whined, chasing after him.

Nautica pulled out her datapad, making a note. “Hmm, chases after his own personal problems instead of focusing on the bride. Not a good quality in a bridesmech. Too bad, he was doing so well until then.”

You smirked, amused with how scientific she was even now; it looked like most of the decisions of the contest would be up to her for the rest of the game Rodimus had dragged you both into.

“Contestant number two, we are waiting for you,” Rodimus called, in a game-show host kind of voice.

Riptide stepped forward, “Hi, I’m Riptide, but all my friends call me… uh Riptide.”

You snickered into the palm of your hand, finally beginning to see the appeal in Rodimus’ game, even if it was to be a long one, judging by the ever-growing queue outside.

Swerve hugged you close to him, wrapping you in your blanket that he’d moved over to his berth along with an assortment of pillows. You had already told him of your long day and how it ended with you picking Nautica, Tailgate, Rewind, Chromedome, and Riptide as your bridesmechs, mainly because everyone kept complaining until you did.

“A gaggle,” You groaned. “I have a gaggle of bridesmaids.”

“Bridesmechs,” Swerve corrected you playfully.

“They’re like Gremlins! Spill water on one and it multiplies.”

“Primus, I love you,” Swerve murmured at the reference.

You peeked up at him, frowning suddenly, “Hmm, you’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been talking.”

“Yeah, talking but not babbling. What’s with that? I mean- Wait!” You sat up, “Are you trying to keep your secret thing quiet by not talking.”

Swerve blushed, going ridged, “NO!”

You slapped his chest, grinning idiotically, “You totally are. What is it? Come on, tell me!”

Swerve mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

He nodded vigorously.

“I bet I can get those lips open.”

He shook his head. You placed a single finger under his chin, drawing him close to you and kissing him, slipping your tongue in to rub against his metal one. He moaned into your mouth, accepting defeat, even when you pulled away.

The two of you laid down again, and Swerve finally spoke, albeit quietly, “Are you happy?”

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“It’s just… in Mork and Mindy, they waited four years for the slow burn until Mork proposed to Mindy. Four seasons, that’s like four years for you guys. Are you sure I’m not rushing you?”

You stroked Swerve’s cheek, “I think this is more like a Sam and Diane kind of thing in Cheers.”

“Sam and Diane… (Y/N), are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No, they get together in like, season one.”

“And then they repeatedly break up and they finally stop seeing each other after breaking off their engagement in the season four finale.”

“Really? God, I have got to see more of that show.”

Swerve let go of you, “You haven’t seen all of cheers?!”

“Save it for the honeymoon babe. What I meant was, they spend ages beating around the bush until they’re finally together and then it’s a full-on relationship, in season one at least. Now come on, no more Cheers talk, tell me at least a little bit about your day, pretty please.”

“Fine,” Swerve huffed, “But the Cheers thing isn’t over, it’s just on hold.”

You nodded agreeably.

“What to tell you, what to tell you… Oh, I chose our song for the first dance.”

“Is it one of those funny ones where we pretend to slow dance then pick out a hip-hop number?”

“W—well, not uh, not really,” Swerve stammered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as his cooling fans kicked on. “I-I mean we could do that if you want, but I was thinking something more traditional?”

“Really? I thought you’d like an opportunity to show off.”

“I uh- I guess we could. I’d have to pick a different song but if that’s what you want then…”

Seeing how much Swerve wanted his traditional dance made your heart flutter. You pecked his lips, “No, whatever you’ve picked will be perfect, I just know it.”

“I’m still not telling you what song it is,” Swerve smiled.

“Oh, come on,” You pouted, “I’d tell you. Man… I cannot believe you can keep a secret.”

“Speaking of secrets… I’ve been thinking about how to integrate the four acts of The Conjunx Rites into a human wedding and, uh… how much do you know about the Conjunx Rites, by the way?”

“Between my vast knowledge of everything? I know… nothing.”

Swerve vented his fans anxiously, “Um, the first act is the act of intimacy.”

You bit back a laugh, thinking of the night before with Swerve between your legs. Reaching over and tracing your fingers lightly over his interface panel, you winked, “Pretty sure we already got that one covered.”

Swerve blushed and stammered on, “I-I was thinking we c-c-could just hold hands or something, for the crowds.”

You giggled, and stopped teasing him, keeping your hands to yourself, “Alright, then what?”

“I’m gonna save Act 2 for last because I dunno, we’re rebels and kinda screwing with tradition as it is, so next is the act of profference. We have to give each other a gift of some kind.”

Reaching behind him, Swerve pulled a small orange metal box from underneath the mountain of pillows. “I want to give you this officially on the day, but I think you should see it now.”

Wordlessly, you took the box, opening it to find a plain purple ring, the likes of which you’d never seen before. While you stared at it, Swerve started explaining.

“I don’t know if you’ll get it, but it’s made out of my innermost energon… Percy found a way to stabilize it into a metal, so, uh, well, it’s important to me and I’ll explain if you need me to.”

As it happened, you didn’t need Swerve to explain; you already knew that receiving inner-most energon was the highest form of love and respect you could receive from a Cybertronian.

“I get it,” You said quietly, wiping your eyes free of tears.

Trying to alleviate the sombre, yet joyous mood, Swerve said, “Brainstorm wanted to make it, but he was planning to inscribe it with ‘One Ring to Rule Them All.’ There’s still a good chance, he’ll put something like that on your dress.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Closing the box gently, you handed it back to him, “I don’t know what I can possibly give you that could ever match up to that.”

“You’ve already given me something though (Y/N).”

“Please do not say that boxset of ‘Three Men and a Baby’ I found.”

“(Y/N), you’re exempt from act three because you’ve already given me something nobody else could; a reason to live.”

You looked up, shocked and afraid, despite his happy tone. You were about to say something when Swerve got the ball rolling again with act four. “The final act is the act of devotion, which is to perform a spectacular demonstration of love. I think we can both agree that’s the wedding.”

“So, then what’s act two?” You whispered, feeling an almost electric atmosphere once you asked.

“The Act of Disclosure, which I think we should do here and now, otherwise it kind of defeats the object of telling an intimate secret… We can’t really do that in front of a crowd.”

Swerve waited with bated breath to see your reaction; asking someone who wasn’t prepared to reveal something intimate about themselves wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I…” You took a deep breath. “On Earth, there was always so much pressure to find someone who you’re meant to be with. They don’t really show it on TV, but we are told all the time that we have to find somebody or die alone, there’s never any time to relax or be free under so much damn pressure and it is terrifying to think that we- that I was brainwashed into it just like everyone else. ”

“I never trusted anyone enough to think of them as someone I’d want to be with. When I got here, I acted more confident and mature and, I um, guess it was kind of a clean slate for me. I never actually expected that I’d find someone to spend my life with but suddenly, when the pressure to fall in love was off, I met you. Swerve, you are my happy ending, when I didn’t think I could have one anymore. I don’t um- Is that what you were thinking? Is it intimate enough? I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be do-”

Swerve pulled you into a hug, his entire body convulsing in silent sobs. Suddenly, you knew why this step was so important, and so you held him, until he was ready to share his secret.

Swerve shook himself, as if trying to physically shake his nerves away, though it was evident he couldn’t as his vocaliser filled with static when he spoke. “Um, I’ve… Let’s face it, I’ve lived through a war. I’ve seen horrible things, done worse sometimes but that’s no secret of any Cybertronian. My secret is- W-What I’m trying to say… When war lasts that long, you have to expect that people, even the most desperate are going to be pushed into relationships, some of which last, most of which break. Some are intimate, but a lot were purely sexual… My point is, that even though I looked for anything in either of those categories, nobody ever loved me- Scrap, nobody even liked me enough to well… Y’know, uh- You were my first.”

Swerve half-expected you to laugh, despite the sober atmosphere. Instead you drew him close once again, staring into his visor, “Then all those others were idiots and I got lucky. I love you and I am so damn proud to be your first.”

Swerve looked away, “You’re not embarrassed by that?”

You shook your head, feeling your way over to his interface panel, a misty glint to your eyes. Swerve grabbed hold of you gently, still not meeting your gaze,

“Then… Then you won’t be embarrassed if I ask to wait till after the wedding? I know we already did it before but now… I want to wait till we’re married, and you are Mrs. Swerve.”

You drew back scowling, “What the hell, Swerve?”

He shrank back from you, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Why? Why would I be Mrs Swerve? You don’t even have a last name, if anything, you’d be Mr (L/N).”

Swerve’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, soon grinning goofily. “Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?” He asked. “You giving the orders and me just obeying like the mindless idiot who worships you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Thank Primus,” He laughed, grabbing you and rolling back onto the berth so you were on his chassis again.

You woke up, with a nauseous stomach, finally afraid now it was your wedding day. How had seven days passed so quickly?

“Swerve?” You mumbled. “You awake?”

You turned over, finding the berth empty, aside from a note that had been messily scrawled over the rest of the berth.

Hey fleshbag, it’s bad luck to see the groom on the wedding.

Swerve will be returned, mostly in one piece at the wedding.

- M. O. H. (MECH OF HONOUR)

 You smiled, the message alleviating your nerves slightly. All the same, you wanted to call Swerve and make sure he wasn’t getting cold pedes. Had it not been for a banging on the door, you would have.

“Who is it?” You called, falling off the berth ungracefully and hissing as you rubbed your sore hip.

“It’s your fairy godmother,” Brainstorm answered cheerily. “With your carriage and might I say, a very glamorous ensemble for you.”

You opened the door wide, “…Does it have your face on it?”

Brainstorm gasped, covering his faceplate playfully. “Y/N, this is your big day and you think I would make it about me? How dare you? I’ll have you know that this is a traditional Earth wedding outfit that I have lovingly synthesized with you in mind.”

“So Perceptor wouldn’t let you?”

“Not even when I offered to put his photo on it too, talk about selfish.”

You nodded almost mournfully, playing along with his game, “That prick.”

“Yeah… Anyway, here it is,” He stepped outside, bringing your outfit back with him. It was in the traditional white, but instead of being a dress or a tuxedo, it was both. There was a small white zip for you to tear away either the skirt or the pants so you could choose your style. You teared up slightly.

“Yeah,” Brainstorm said sympathetically, “I mean it is good, but I’d cry too if my face wasn’t on it, where it clearly should be. No time for that now though, your carriage awaits.”

You tore your eyes away from the outfit, peeking through the door to see a giant truck with a bow on it; the bow had Brainstorm’s face on it.

“Magnus?” You asked, somewhat dazed.

“(Y/N), it’s almost time for your wedding and you have not even done your hair yet? This is going to throw everything off schedule,” Ultra Magnus reprimanded, proving that it was indeed him. He sighed, switching to his communicator, “Rodimus, (Y/N) isn’t ready yet… I already told you- No I will not use those ridiculous code names and furthermore- You will refer to me as Ultra Magnus or else- Fine,” Ultra Magnus said defeatedly, apparently losing whatever argument he was in with Rodimus. “Flaming Cupid, Princess Perfect is running late. Keep Lucky Orange calm and where he is, we will be there soon.”

You giggled quietly to yourself.

“I heard that Princess- I mean (Y/N). Get inside and get ready. Schedules wait for nobody.”

“Okay, I’m going, but real quick, are you comfortable doing this? You’ve never driven me anywhere before.”

“(Y/N), this may well be the most important day of your life, I would not be here if it wasn’t.”

Brainstorm leaned over to you, covering his mouth-plate and whispering, “He was afraid anyone else would speed.”

“Speed laws are to be obeyed,” Ultra Magnus warned you exasperatedly.

With that, you skipped back into your room to get ready for the first day of the rest of your life.

Swerve waited at the end of the aisle with shaking legs, the only thing that kept him from pacing was Megatron’s servo on his shoulder; the action was supposed to be supportive, but coming from Megatron, it only felt intimidating.

“I’m gonna purge my tanks,” Swerve whimpered.

“Do it glitch, I dare ya,” Whirl warned from opposite him, throwing a metal, painted bouquet at Swerve and hitting him square on the head, much to Megatron’s chagrin.

“Hey!” Rodimus picked up the bouquet, shoving it at Whirl’s chassis. “Remember, we’re here for (Y/N).”

“And me too, right?” Swerve squeaked, feeling faint.

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Yeah, yeah, you too, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Suddenly, music began playing, and everyone stood up as they’d been told to do. Nautica, Rewind, Chromedome, Riptide and Tailgate ran to the front where they were supposed to be just in time for Ultra Magnus to drive around the corner and let you out. Ultra Magnus transformed, spotting his Brainstorm bow for the first time and tearing it off in disgust. He took his place in the back, while Rung went to your side in his holo-form, so he could link arms with you.

You barely had time to look around at all the intricate decorations as you were walked down the aisle towards Swerve who looked completely dumbfounded that you’d actually showed up.

“Are you nervous?” Rung asked you quietly.

“Absolutely,” You whispered back.

“Don’t be, from everything you’ve told me over our messages this past week, you’ll do great.”

You squeezed his arm in thanks.

“I believe it is customary for the ‘father of the bride’ to offer a compliment. I may not be your creator, but I must say, you are glowing. I am truly happy for you (Y/N), ah, but here is where we part ways.”

Rung went to take his seat, but you pulled him back slightly, pecking his cheek, “Thank you. For everything, I mean. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Rung put a hand over his spark, bowing his head humbly and leaving your side, as you went to join Swerve.

“Finally,” Rodimus groaned, “That took forever.”

Chromedome nudged him warningly, giving Whirl just enough time to lean close to you, “Told you I’d get the glitch here in one piece.”

You nodded, holding back a laugh at the already unconventional wedding.

“Alright,” Rodimus boomed, “Let’s get on with it so we can get to the P-A-R-T-Y!”

Megatron glared at Rodimus, silently telling him to tone it down, but Rodimus didn’t care as he went into a full-on impression of an over-the-top-preacher. “I have been told that Act two of the Conjunx Rites has been completed, can I get a HALLELUJAH?!”

The entire room cringed and Rodimus scowled, “Ugh fine.” He grew semi-serious, facing you and Swerve with a smile, “Swerve, (Y/N), if you would like to initiate Act One of the Conjunx Rites?”

You reached out for Swerve’s servo, smiling radiantly the entire time. Thankful that you had made the first move, Swerve grabbed your hand gratefully, squeezing a little too tight, though you didn’t mention it.

“Very good, and I believe you have something to give one another?”

Once again, you surprised Swerve by holding out an orange metal box, identical to his. He reached out carefully, “(Y/N)… What-”

“Open it,” You said.

He did, finding a locket that would fit perfectly in one of his sub-spaces. He flicked open the locket, finding a lock of hair inside. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape at the unexpected gift.

“I may not have any inner-energon, but I figured this is close enough.”

Rewind leaned forward to get a better view, his camera displaying a live-feed to all the vid-screens on the ship, including two large ones for all the attendees.

“Ha ha,” Riptide laughed, “Gross.”

Nautica nudged him and Swerve ignored the pair as he tucked the locket delicately into his subspace, offering you his own box shortly afterwards, letting you put on the energon ring yourself because his servos were shaking so badly.

“Great,” Rodimus clapped his servos together, “Then that leaves act four, Swerve, I believe you’ve prepared some vows but I looked at them and they were long, so here’s a queue card that I wrote and believe me, it’s an improvement.”

He pulled a card from behind him which Megatron firmly snatched away, glaring the entire time, “Let. Him. Speak.”

Rodimus grumbled, stepping back, “Fine. Bet he doesn’t say ‘Till we are one’ though.”

All optics and Rewind’s camera went onto Swerve who stood dumbly, unsure of what to say now that he didn’t have his datapad with the speech on it. “I um-” His voice filled with static and he had to wait a minute to clear it. Ratchet creeped behind him, turning a fan on in case he overheated; you withheld a wry smile.

“(Y/N),” Swerve began, “You- You’re the Monica to my Chandler. You listen to me even when I get crazy and I know I’m not good enough for you, Primus, this whole ship does, but you’re here anyway. I want to spend every nano-click with you, in the non-creepy way. You’re my universe.”

The static began again and Swerve had to take a small step back, though he still held onto you, more for support than anything else.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus said, “Care to add anything to that?”

“What can I say other than what I’ve already said?” You mused. “You’re my happy ending Swerve, and if you can deal with all my gross human stuff, that’s good enough for me. I love you, you’re my lucky star… and I’m totally in it for the free drinks,” You laughed and the crowd chuckled along with you.

“Then by the power vested in me,” Rodimus went back to his preacher voice, “as Co-Captain of this ship, I present to you, these Rodimus stars for the Lost Light’s first ever interspecies marriage.” Seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out two gold stars, passing the human-sized one to you and handing the other to Swerve. “I now pronounce you Conjunx Endurae and mech and wife.” He looked at Swerve, “What are you waiting for? Kiss your lady love!”

You didn’t wait for Swerve as you jumped into his open arms, kissing him while the crew cheered.

The two of you were broken up by a loud shot from another gun Whirl had managed to smuggle in. Once again, Ultra Magnus stared mournfully at the ceiling, wondering exactly where Whirl had got the other gun from; he had confiscated last week’s after the first incident.

Whirl picked you up, “FIRST ONE TO THE PARTY GETS A PRIZE KISS OFF (Y/N).”

A mass of Cybertronians transformed, each trying to beat Whirl to the bar while Swerve was left alone, wondering how he was still left competing with the crew over you, even now that you were married.

After you’d given a victory kiss to Whirl, the party kicked off to a roaring start, with you being dragged off in every direction while Swerve tried to catch up. Finally, you managed to reach him at the bar, which he glared at enviously, hating that Mirage was serving drinks, even on the happiest day of his life.

“Hello, Mr (L/N),” You bowed graciously.

“Hello, Mrs Swerve,” Swerve curtsied. He offered you his arm, “If I may ask you for a dance?”

“How courteous of you,” You smiled, then paused to listen to the current song. “Yep, I always wanted my first dance to be to Wrecking Ball.”

Swerve snickered, “I’m afraid not.”

He led you to the dancefloor then waved at Blaster, who instantly switched the song off. Frank Sinatra’s ever sweet melody, ‘I Love You Baby,’ played instead and you bit your lip, fearing your face would practically split open from smiling too much. Swerve led, matching the pace of the song, and gazing at you adoringly the entire time.

“This was your big surprise?” You asked.

He nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice to match the lie he’d just told; so long as you thought the song was his secret, he was fine.

You leaned into his chassis, ignoring the faster pace of the chorus so you could simply hold onto him, spinning slowly, “I love you too.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Swerve responded ecstatically, picking you up bridal style. You squealed, letting him twirl around, helpless to stop him anyway. All around, the night was perfect and you would never dream of asking for anything more.

Later on, when you were distracted once again by many a bot who wanted to congratulate you, Swerve received a comm on his private channel. He checked his messages, finding a text from Brainstorm and Perceptor, telling him his request was ready. Checking on you once again, Swerve slipped out, transforming so he could be at Perceptor’s lab in record time.

He let himself in, finding the two bots talking about you and the ethics of the project Swerve had asked them to complete. “It’s ready?” Swerve asked. “And you’re sure it will work?”

“Of course,” Perceptor said almost offendedly. “We invented it. It works.”

“Can I see?”

Brainstorm grabbed a remote control, pressing it with flair so one of the flooring panels lifted up as well as thick plumes of smoke.

Perceptor waved the smoke away casually, “Was the smoke machine really necessary?”

“Well you wouldn’t let me have the laser show,” Brainstorm explained. “Where’s your sense of presentation?”

Swerve didn’t listen to either of the pair, he was too focused on what had come out of the floor to care.

Perceptor turned his attention to Swerve as the orange mech stroked a lifeless mini-bot model that looked remarkably like you yet worlds different at the same time. “Are you sure (Y/N) will agree to this? We are talking about moving her consciousness from one body to another.”

“Human life is too short,” Swerve said as if it was an answer. “She doesn’t have to say yes today. Primus! I want her to stay human as long as she can but… But I just got her, I’m not losing her in the blink of an optic. Make sure this will work, I’ll get her to agree. She’s everything to me.”

He walked out of the lab, transforming so he could get back to the party. Finally, things were going his way.

THE END.

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[fleur-de-leap]

Why I love TFA pt 1: OP

OK SO! About a month ago I sent an ask to @needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves while they were doing their watch through of TFA to explain why I love TFA’s rendition of Optimus Prime. In the reblog I linked to, I mentioned that I could do a lot of writing about why I love TFA in general...so here’s part one, starting with the character that started it all! It’s 907 words, so it’s under a ‘read more’. 

It seems fitting to begin with the bot that started this entire idea of rambling about why I love the show that introduced me to Transformers, Optimus Prime in Transformers Animated. A quick summary of why I love him that I’ll expand on:

- Relatable thanks to his age

- Doing his best

- Not put up on a pedestal

- HE MAKES MISTAKES

- Genuinely unique origin story based on what I know

- Good personality

So whenever I describe TFA Optimus to someone who hasn’t watched the series, I tend to describe him as a “20-something year old trying his best.” And I feel like that is a fairly accurate description of him, He seems to be a lot younger than any other incarnation of OP, and it shows. He doesn’t understand everything, he has a type of optimism in a lot of situations that I don’t think is like, little kid ‘invincibility’ optimism, but it’s not grown up ‘could be worse!’ optimism either if that makes any sense. His is more in the form of hopefulness that things will get better, even if they aren’t great now. His motivational speech just within the first episode (That we can figure he does often since Prowl says “Not this speech again.”) is about how “Together we can move mountains.” Putting forth the effort, we can make anything happen. We can make things better.

He also makes more mistakes than I think any other incarnation of OP makes, and he acknowledges them and tries to fix them. He learns from his mistakes, which is so important! Especially considering the target audience for TFA is younger kids (though that doesn’t mean it sugar coats either!). It shows that actions have consequences, what you say to people has an affect on them. But it also shows that apologies are important, and so is listening to your teammates. Off the top of my head, whenever he gets in a fight with the rest of Team Prime, it’s because he’s being stubborn and isn’t listening to them because he’s the leader with the training (or something along those lines). Then the episode is spent with him realizing that he needs to listen to his friends, and he apologizes and listens to them, and things turn out ok. He’s allowed to make mistakes, and he’s shown being forgiven. (There’s also the Black Arachnea arc, where he isn’t forgiven, and it shows that not everyone will forgive you. But you can’t please everyone.)

Building off of him being allowed to make mistakes, it helps that he isn’t held on the same pedestal that I think every other Optimus is held up to. He’s not some wise, extremely powerful always calm and collected leader in a war. In TFA, Optimus is a soldier who made a mistake (That wasn’t entirely his fault either), and was punished for it by being demoted to repairing space bridges. He’s made mistakes and continues to make them, Ultra Magnus tells him not to be the hero, because it isn’t in his coding. He’s just a case of being in the right place at the right time, and managing to get in over his head. But he also managed to rise to the occasion, earning his position by the end of season 3.

Building off of that, while I don’t know a lot of backstories for Optimus (I have only seen TFA and TFP, and a tiiiiiny bit of Bayverse that I don’t even remember beyond the memes), his TFA backstory is really interesting and unique. TFA happens AFTER the ‘great war’ (or whatever it’s called in the show, I don’t remember), so Optimus wasn’t there for it. As far as I’m aware, he doesn’t have the Orion Pax origin story. He’s always been Optimus. AND PRIME WAS AN EARNED TITLE. It’s not something special bestowed by the 13 original Primes or Primus Himself thanks to the Matrix of Leadership or anything. It’s like our real life General or Colonel (I don’t know what Prime would actually equate to, in my head it’s a General). He’s not the only Prime we see in the show! (Given the only other Prime I remember is Sentinel...who I don’t think should be a Prime but that’s a rant for another day. JAZZ PRIME WOULD BE COOL THOUGH.)

The last thing I can think of about TFA Optimus that I think makes him stand out is that he has such a noticeable personality. By ‘noticeable personality’ I mean a personality that goes beyond the personally boring personality that most other Optimus’s (Optimi??) have that boils down to ‘Calm and collected leader who can do no wrong’. TFA Optimus is so expressive, he gets angry and sad. I don’t think I’ve heard literally any other Optimus laugh, and I know TFP Optimus never yelled at the rest of Team Prime. But TFA Optimus has gotten angry at Team Prime, because everyone gets frustrated. No realistic person has the patience of a saint. It’s hard to relate to because every normal person has lost their patience with someone, and wants to be listened to just this once. It’s so much more relatable to have an Optimus Prime who isn’t afraid to express himself and what he’s thinking. It’s so refreshing.

So...yeah...TFA Optimus is my favorite incarnation of Optimus Prime that I’ve come across so far because I find him to be more interesting and relatable, and extremely unique.

[verdigrisprowl]

Oct 9 Dancitron Movie Night - Matrix: Revolutions

Prowl feels accomplished; not only did he make it through the movie emotionally intact, he even managed to keep talking while barely faltering during one of the scenes that scratched at one of his trauma triggers.

After the movie Soundwave showed Prowl where his optical sensors are in alt-mode and Prowl subtly confirmed that his light bar does function as optics, making Soundwave the first person he’s informed. Their trust exercises look weird.

ItsyBitsySpyers 7:56 pm *Soundwave has made himself quite comfortable on his usual seat, one feeler propping his legs up, the other serving as combination pillow for himself and head scratcher for the Ravage on the couch's arm.* Me 7:58 pm *appears, checks to ensure that his usual spot is free, nods hello to Ravage since he's nearby, and sits.* Swoop 7:59 pm *slides into the room, still LITERALLY smoking hot* Purgatori 7:59 pm *Does Ratchet even want to know what you did, Swoop* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:00 pm *Soundwave bobs his helm hello at Prowl and glances over in Ratchet's direction. That's a new fa-- oh Primus, Swoop's smoking.*

[[Do that outside.]] [[Greetings, Ratchet.]] Purgatori 8:01 pm "Soundwave." *Theres another glance at Swoop, and then a soft sigh and an optic roll* Swoop 8:01 pm *has no idea what Soundwave is 'talking' about and skitters around the room* Bird! *is a very real risk of setting off any sprinkler system in here* boomtank 8:01 pm ((rabbit, what did you do? ItsyBitsySpyers 8:02 pm [[Bird is outside.]] Lies. [[If you want to find her, you have to look for her.]] Purgatori 8:02 pm *pulls out a fire blanket and rubbs Swoop down* Swoop 8:02 pm *dives for the door but is intercepted* ????????????? *so much wiggles* Purgatori 8:03 pm *Ratchet isnt smiling, no hes not* *Releases Swoop* "There." Bevel 8:04 pm *got a makeover between movie nights like y'do* Swoop 8:04 pm *FLAILS right into a heap on the floor* boomtank 8:05 pm -wanders in, looking vaguely out of it- Purgatori 8:05 pm *Puts blanket away, returns to his corner spot* Swoop 8:05 pm *giggles to himself then POPS up and rushes out the door to find Bird* Bevel 8:05 pm Was Swoop dirty? Me 8:05 pm *Hm. Two new people here tonight.* Swoop 8:05 pm *is dirty all day every day* Me 8:06 pm *Oblivious to the fact that one of the new people is an old people.* Purgatori 8:06 pm I did not want him to set the sprinklers off. I have given up on giving him a bath. Swoop 8:06 pm *is a stinky boy all over the roof of Dancitron, this is not what you told him Soundwave, where is Bird???* Bevel 8:07 pm *that's a perfectly normal reaction to her picking a new frame, Prowl* ...Sprinklers? Was he on fire? *and she missed it? boo* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:08 pm ((OKAY back had to fill in new guest 😄 )) Purgatori 8:08 pm When is he not on fire, is the correct question. He is a Dinobot. He catches himself and half the Ark on fire most of the time. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:09 pm *Bird appears at the roof and looks at Swoop.* {{What you upping here for? Go inside, is movie.}} Purgatori 8:09 pm Also, it has come to my attention I do not know who you are. I am Ratchet. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:09 pm ((FIVE MINUTE WARNING grab snacks)) Swoop 8:09 pm Looking for Bird!! Keheh It WORK Bevel 8:09 pm *hums* Side effect of breathing fire. Me 8:09 pm ((*has fooded and is ready*)) Bevel 8:10 pm ((*also has food as you well know* boomtank 8:10 pm ((-is working on blog-)) ItsyBitsySpyers 8:11 pm ((OKAY LEMME THINK NOW warnings warnings... uhh violence and blood, probably some cursing, one of the nightclubs has got fetish gear and stuff going, early 2000s Edginess, discussion of self harm annnnd i feel like I'm forgetting something but it won't come to mind so yeah)) Purgatori 8:12 pm *slips into a seat* boomtank 8:12 pm -going to sit somewhere he can and try to focus- Swoop 8:13 pm *follows after Bird, whether that be to the movies or not he genuinely doesn't care* Bevel 8:13 pm ((I like the warning for early 2000 edge. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:14 pm *She's definitely going inside. And sitting by Blaster. Because Swoop will follow and it's funny.* Bevel 8:14 pm *Bevel will look for twins before she decides on a seat* boomtank 8:14 pm -curious glance over at Laserbeak- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:14 pm *Twins are on their own seat; Bevel is welcome to join.* Swoop 8:14 pm *is apparently going to be by Blaster now* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:14 pm ((WE'RE DOIN THIS)) Bevel 8:15 pm *she will do just that, budge over lil bits* boomtank 8:15 pm -waitwhatno- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:15 pm @P: (txt): Reminder: Agent Smith invasion: continued theme. Swoop 8:15 pm *sprawls out, wings everywhere, watching Bird* Purgatori 8:15 pm *rolls eyes at Swoop* Me 8:16 pm @S «Noted.» *He didn't expect anything else.* boomtank 8:16 pm -shoves at Swoop- Hey! Swoop 8:16 pm *immediately digs in when he's shoved and snaps his head to stare at Blaster* boomtank 8:17 pm Could you scoot over a bit? Swoop 8:17 pm No boomtank 8:17 pm ..... ItsyBitsySpyers 8:17 pm *Laserbeak cackles quietly to herself.* boomtank 8:17 pm You're literally on top of me Swoop 8:18 pm *literally any volume of Bird laughing is encouragement in Swoop's book* Yah. boomtank 8:18 pm I'm not part of the seating ItsyBitsySpyers 8:18 pm ((gdit my audio glitched. one sec)) Purgatori 8:19 pm *Why does this mech look like a holoform of Megatron* Swoop 8:19 pm Keh! Dinobot sit aaaaaaaanywhere boomtank 8:19 pm Yes, sure, but not on me Swoop 8:19 pm Yah on you Purgatori 8:19 pm [[ oh my god the little bing saying ur friends with someone sounds like an airplane]] boomtank 8:20 pm ((hehe Purgatori 8:20 pm *soft chuckles under his breath at Blaster* boomtank 8:20 pm No, not on me. Off. Swoop 8:20 pm No boomtank 8:20 pm Get off. Swoop 8:20 pm Make me boomtank 8:20 pm Seriously? Swoop 8:20 pm *chuckles with flames in his throat* Purgatori 8:20 pm Swoop, no. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:20 pm [[Laserbeak.]]

{{Boooooo.}} She pats Swoop on the wing. {{You move, not on Blastbutt.}} Purgatori 8:21 pm *rubs his face tiredly* Swoop 8:21 pm *sits up, optics wide, and blinks at Laserbeak* ???? Move? ItsyBitsySpyers 8:21 pm {{Yes, yes. No bumping. Bird only.}} boomtank 8:21 pm -scrubs at his face- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:22 pm [[The Oracle hu-- program is different.]] boomtank 8:22 pm -he's too tired/frazzled/out of it for this- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:22 pm *Interested lean* Me 8:22 pm ... Is it? Swoop 8:22 pm *sliiiiiiiiiides away from Blaster, clearly off put and pouting* boomtank 8:22 pm Thank you ItsyBitsySpyers 8:23 pm [[It is.]] He turns to Prowl and shows the different voice prints on his screen - without sound, so as not to interrupt the movie. Swoop 8:23 pm Meh meh meh ItsyBitsySpyers 8:23 pm *Laserbeak pats Swoop's arm and trills. A good minion.* Swoop 8:24 pm .... *okay he's good now* <3 Me 8:24 pm *... Okay, he supposes those look different.* boomtank 8:25 pm -just realizing he has no idea what is going on in the movie- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:26 pm //Sounds like Functionist scrap.// Purgatori 8:26 pm *unsettled ruffling of plating* boomtank 8:26 pm ..... Swoop 8:26 pm *picks his seat, this is so talky, blah* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:27 pm {{It fight later, you see.}} Bevel 8:27 pm I like those programs. Swoop 8:27 pm Us watch ALL fighting movie next, Bird! ItsyBitsySpyers 8:28 pm {{Nooo, next week Vulcan week. Week after, that big fighting, war, gods.}} Swoop 8:29 pm What Vulcan week means? Bevel 8:29 pm Aliens. Purgatori 8:29 pm Oh. I know Vulcans ItsyBitsySpyers 8:29 pm *Soundwave perks.* Bevel 8:31 pm Vulcans are neat but I like Klingons best so far. And Odo. Purgatori 8:31 pm Klingons. Why is it always Klingons Me 8:31 pm ... Know them personally? Or by reputation? Swoop 8:31 pm *transforms in to robotmode and pulls a well nibbled goodie out of subspace to gnaw on* Bevel 8:31 pm *grins and sticks her tongue out at Ratchet* Purgatori 8:32 pm [unimpressed stare at bevel] Me 8:33 pm @S «... I'm confused, let me make sure I have all this straight.» Bevel 8:33 pm Klingons are warriors! They fight for honor and stuff. Even if bat'leths would be really bad weapons in real life. Purgatori 8:33 pm There is no way that these humans are moving like this Me 8:34 pm @S «There are three worlds; the machine world, the Matrix—both of which are digital—and the physical world. That train goes between the two digital worlds. Correct?» Purgatori 8:34 pm Damnit Bevel, im a doctor, not a warrior. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:34 pm *Frenzy LAUGHS* Swoop 8:34 pm Me SWOOP am warrior!! *about falls over himself to announce this fact to the room* Bevel 8:35 pm I think the doctor is human. Purgatori 8:35 pm He is human. Me 8:35 pm You missed the first two movies, Ratchet. They AREN'T moving like that. Most of this movie takes place in a virtual world. Their minds are plugged into a video game, more or less. boomtank 8:35 pm .....? Purgatori 8:35 pm A video game. Of course. Swoop 8:35 pm Game? Game! Us play game instead of boring talk movie! Bevel 8:36 pm Than you can be the human doctor and I can be the Klingon warrior and everyone is happy. 😄 Purgatori 8:36 pm A neck brace? What is she doing out of themedbay? Swoop 8:36 pm ((This early 2000s edge is killing me)) Purgatori 8:37 pm Someone get that woman a better fitting shirt boomtank 8:37 pm ...I am...kinda...lost Swoop 8:37 pm ((everyone on screen thinks they are so fucking cool good lord XD)) Me 8:37 pm @S «So. WHICH way were the two adult programs and their offspring trying to go? To the Matrix, right? Then... were they coming BACK from the machine world? Why, if they'd met with the man here, who's in the Matrix, not the machine world? And they said that only the child could stay in the Matrix, correct? So why were the other two accompanying her?» Swoop 8:37 pm *slides down in his seat like every word is physically weighting this poor flaplingdown* *he's going to get crushed someone save him from the talk* Purgatori 8:38 pm *Be strong, Swoop. Be strong for Bird* boomtank 8:38 pm ....... Swoop 8:38 pm KEHEHHE Her good Her KICK no more talk talk talk talk Bevel 8:39 pm *laughs* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:40 pm @Prowl: (txt): Machine world: not digital. Machine world shares human physical world, area: separate. There, machines, programs: created. Obsolete machines: recalled, deleted-destroyed.

Train permits connection, travel deep into Matrix, entity base preservation. Alternative: Old Matrix into New Matrix. These, exiles, hunted - Keymaker, ghosts, Sati program. boomtank 8:40 pm -still has no idea what is going on, and kinda going back to his data-pad now- Swoop 8:40 pm ((God so much of these movies rest on the shoulders of Trinity's powerful, knowing love being a force everyone must recognize and she just...)) Purgatori 8:40 pm *soft frown* Me 8:40 pm @S «... Programs can't be in the physical world. They're programs.» @S «Do the programs have physical bodies?» Purgatori 8:42 pm *this hits really close to home* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:42 pm @P: (txt): Physical bodies: machines. Digital bodies: programs. When through train, programs:... camouflaged. Machine control: removed. Swoop 8:43 pm *paws at Bird's wing* Me Swoop like, uh, like on YouTube, slow-- Slow Mo Bros. Us watch shoot stuff in slow motion EXPLODE kehhhehhhhe watch that instead of talk talk TALK movie! Me 8:43 pm *These are digital projections of their identities. For her to have been INTERNALLY changed so much she can't even recognize herself...* boomtank 8:43 pm -so very very lost- *His fuel tank twists.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:44 pm {{Swoop want going room, watch them? Not stay here?}} Swoop 8:44 pm Me Swoop want to hang out with Bird : > Purgatori 8:45 pm *soft stare* Me 8:46 pm @S «... The Source. That's what I meant by machine world. They speak of a source that programs go to and come. They treat it like it's different from the physical world.» Bevel 8:46 pm Uh-oh. Me 8:47 pm @S «The train DIDN'T go to the source? It went back and forth from the physical world and the Matrix. Why were three programs going back and forth? The child had obviously been made IN the Matrix, even if the other two had physical machine bodies it was likely she did not, how could she have left?» Me 8:48 pm @S «...The programs CAN'T have physical bodies. If they did, they couldn't be refugees inside the Matrix, because the machines on the outside could just destroy their physical bodies. Right?» Purgatori 8:48 pm Oh no ItsyBitsySpyers 8:50 pm @P: (txt): ...Perhaps Sati: machine world creation without physical form? Program written there, noticed, smuggled into Matrix. Existence similarity... Tarantulas' AI? Me 8:50 pm *Goes still as he tries not to think about how all of those were people.* Purgatori 8:51 pm *Freezes* *clutches arms so tight plating creaks* Me 8:51 pm @S «That's what I'm saying. She doesn't have a physical form. There have to be—» ItsyBitsySpyers 8:51 pm *...Now, Prowl, he expects. Ratchet's reaction is new.* Bevel 8:51 pm *gasps* boomtank 8:51 pm ................ Me 8:51 pm @S «... Have to be programs without physical forms.» Swoop 8:51 pm *looks upside down at Ratchet* ?? boomtank 8:52 pm -Blaster is now leaving the room, byyyye- Swoop 8:52 pm *FLOPS ON HIS BELLY AND CONQUERS THE ENTIRE SOFA* *SWOOP WINS AT SITTING* Purgatori 8:54 pm *forces himself to release his arms, theres a slight tremble to his hands now* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:56 pm @P: (txt): Then this... term. Secret upload. Machine creators entered Matrix - this, allowed - encountered Merovingian. Deal created. Creators re-entered physical world, gathered secret program, uploaded all selves. Train: secret path into Matrix. After Sati: delivered, safe, creators returned. Other machines: without knowledge. boomtank 8:56 pm -Yes, Swoop, the entire sofa is yours. Blaster has vacated entierly- ItsyBitsySpyers 8:56 pm *Soundwave nods to Blaster, who appears to be leaving. These ARE difficult films to get through.* Me 8:56 pm @S «... Makes sense.» Purgatori 8:56 pm *clenches fist tightly* *scrubs at his faceplates* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:57 pm [[Are you well, doctor?]] Swoop 8:57 pm *kicks his feet absentmindedly and chirps to himself* boomtank 8:57 pm -quick and absent wave at Soundwave as he passes- Me 8:57 pm *Glances over?* Purgatori 8:57 pm Im fine. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:58 pm [[...We do have a bar.]] *If Ratchet needs to drown something out.* Purgatori 8:59 pm *slowly stands, shaking out clenched plating* Swoop 8:59 pm *notices Ratchet going and stares at him all the way* Purgatori 8:59 pm Can I help you, Swoop? Swoop 8:59 pm Hi Purgatori 9:00 pm Hello Bevel 9:00 pm *frowns worriedly at Ratchet before looking back at the movie* Swoop 9:00 pm *waves* boomtank 9:00 pm -might be back. Later. Lots later- ItsyBitsySpyers 9:00 pm *As you need, Blaster.* Purgatori 9:00 pm [i dont actually know much about the bar do i need to pay for things] ItsyBitsySpyers 9:01 pm ((payment is just bartering, trading interesting or useful things/data)) ((that's just the booze; snacks are out in the open and free)) Purgatori 9:01 pm [[wjat tje hell does ratchet have thats interesting]] ItsyBitsySpyers 9:01 pm ((data on his timeline)) Swoop 9:01 pm *chews on the arm of the couch* Purgatori 9:01 pm *Glances at the bar, walks by swoop and gently whaps him on the helm* Stop that Swoop 9:02 pm !!! :V What stop? Purgatori 9:02 pm I will sit on you, Swoop Swoop 9:02 pm No! Kehehh. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:02 pm [[He likes the Niobe human.]] [[She has a sharp glossa.]] Purgatori 9:02 pm Couches are not for chewing. Swoop 9:03 pm Me Swoop chewing couch : > Purgatori 9:03 pm Do you need a chewtoy. I have one that squeaks Swoop 9:03 pm *grabby hands* Purgatori 9:03 pm ....is he talking like that other human Swoop 9:03 pm *GRABBY HANDS* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:03 pm [[The Smith Agent? Yes.]] [[He bears a copy in his mind.]] Purgatori 9:04 pm *pulls out chewtoy* Swoop 9:04 pm !!! Purgatori 9:04 pm Do you promise not to chew on the couch. Swoop 9:04 pm No : > Dinobots chew EVERYTHING Purgatori 9:04 pm Then no chewtoy Swoop 9:05 pm ????????? Purgatori 9:05 pm *subspaces it* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:05 pm [[Dinobots will stick to chewing themselves instead of his property if they wish to visit his deployers.]] Purgatori 9:05 pm Thank you, Soundwave. Swoop 9:05 pm *what? is? happening???? he just?? wants?? to BITE????* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:05 pm *Bets Ratchet's not had to say THAT before.* Purgatori 9:05 pm *You would be surprised* Swoop 9:06 pm *chitters at Bird* Purgatori 9:06 pm *Now, thanking Megatron was an experience Ratchet never wants to repeat* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:07 pm @Prowl: (txt): Prowl's decision, Neo departure intention? Hypothetical situation. Bevel 9:07 pm *only Megatron worth thanking is a negative polarity one* Swoop 9:07 pm *is sooooooo sad you guys* *for real* Me 9:07 pm @S «... I wasn't paying close enough attention.» Purgatori 9:07 pm *softly clenches fist* *walks back to his table* Swoop 9:08 pm *chirp* *chirp* *chirp* *chirp* *chirp* Bevel 9:09 pm ((this actor is really good dang ItsyBitsySpyers 9:09 pm @P: (txt): Machines approach human city. Humans intended return. Neo wanted own ship, purpose: approach machine city. This, impossible; captain protested, refused, reason: ship, manpower waste. Other captain shared ship. Swoop 9:10 pm *chirp* *chirp* *chirp* Purgatori 9:10 pm *throws a wrench at swoop* Swoop 9:10 pm !!! KEHHEHHEHHHEHHHH ItsyBitsySpyers 9:10 pm *Laserbeak snatches it out of the air with a feeler. And subspaces it. This is hers now.* Swoop 9:10 pm Ow! *is clearly entertained and not hurt* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:10 pm [[No violence. That is the first rule. Consider this your only warning.]] [[He will bridge you both.]] Swoop 9:10 pm *grins at Bird* Me 9:11 pm @S «Wouldn't be able to...» Purgatori 9:11 pm Apologies Swoop 9:11 pm You Bird FAST fighter! ItsyBitsySpyers 9:11 pm {{Bird BEST fighter.}} boomtank 9:11 pm -peers back in- !!!! Swoop 9:12 pm Better than GRIMLOCK? ItsyBitsySpyers 9:12 pm ((THAT'S the other thing i was gonna warn for. flashing. my bad)) Me 9:12 pm @S «... Wouldn't be able to decide without a, a thorough knowledge. Of the forces—that the machines were throwing at Zion, the forces the... humans were able to muster... the forces facing them in the machine city, and—and the objective they're pursuing in the machine city.» boomtank 9:12 pm -BAD timing- Me 9:13 pm *Hah. HAHH. He was able to speak the entire way through Smith visually puppetting someone else.* Purgatori 9:13 pm *plating pulls tight to his frame* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:13 pm *Good, because partial distraction was his goal.* Swoop 9:13 pm Ratchet boomtank 9:13 pm -back to being out of the room- Swoop 9:14 pm Ratchet. Me Swoop want toy now. Purgatori 9:14 pm *stares at Swoop* Swoop 9:14 pm *stares back* Bevel 9:14 pm *shifts uncomfortably* Purgatori 9:15 pm I could fix that, make it slimmer. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:15 pm @Prowl: (txt): Fair. Perhaps once answers: gathered.

Lean accepted? Purgatori 9:15 pm The waste of power they have making it large and showey is ridiculous Swoop 9:15 pm Ratchet Purgatori 9:15 pm Thats my name, its already worn out Swoop 9:15 pm Me Swoop WANT toy now ItsyBitsySpyers 9:16 pm [[...These remind him of the Ripley human.]] [[He likes her better.]] Me 9:16 pm *It wasn't a distraction, it was a TEST. And Prowl passed. He's getting stronger.* Bevel 9:16 pm Ripley was awesome. Purgatori 9:16 pm *pulls toy out of subspace* I actually know that one. Swoop 9:16 pm *peep* Purgatori 9:16 pm With the ones who bleed acid. *moves closer to Swoop, tucks toy in his hands* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:17 pm [[Yes. Everyone should know that one. And the others. They are excellent.]] Swoop 9:17 pm *reaches* Purgatori 9:17 pm My favorite is the second one. Alien...s? ItsyBitsySpyers 9:18 pm [[Correct. With a]] Tiniest hesitation. [[Xenomorph Queen.]]

[[You have good taste, Bevel.]] *Now to see if the Niobe human pilots as well as she claims.* Bevel 9:18 pm *grins* Course I do. Purgatori 9:18 pm *holds out toy towards Swoop* They are naked Swoop 9:19 pm *SNATCHES up the toy* Purgatori 9:19 pm *soft engine rumble, that was rude, boy* Swoop 9:19 pm *is a rude boy* Purgatori 9:19 pm *ruffles helm* boomtank 9:19 pm -peers back in again- ItsyBitsySpyers 9:19 pm \\HA! LOOKIT THAT DRILL. HOT DAMN.\\ Swoop 9:19 pm *chatters while gnawing on the toy and leaning into helm pets* Purgatori 9:19 pm I have pulled things like that out of mechs before ItsyBitsySpyers 9:19 pm \\PERSONAL GOALS, TELL YA WHAT.\\ Purgatori 9:20 pm *scritches at swoops helm* boomtank 9:20 pm -yeah, no, he's back out again- Swoop 9:21 pm *tilts his head at the best/weirdest angle possible to ensure max scritches while he works on murdering this chew toy* Swoop 9:22 pm *mumbles incoherently around the toy* Purgatori 9:22 pm *This is where Kup would have a war story to tell* Swoop 9:23 pm *people who can read minds might know this is where swoop is calling things boring because there's no splatter and also no one flies again for some reason* Purgatori 9:23 pm These things are smart Bevel 9:24 pm Whoa. Swoop 9:24 pm Them HIT Me 9:24 pm If they were smarter they'd have known that maneuver made them a concentrated target. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:24 pm ((i was shooing the cat, what maneuver/what's smart)) Purgatori 9:24 pm Some died, but they managed to take out a military outpost Swoop 9:25 pm Them all fly apart Then hard to shoot All everywhere Me 9:25 pm They could have taken it out with less deaths if they'd started out separately and timed their flights so that they would collide at the same spot at the same time despite coming from different directions. Swoop 9:25 pm Or go in between Me 9:25 pm If they'd been shaped like a funnel instead of a worm. Purgatori 9:25 pm *vauge hand gestures, this is where Prowl knows more about things* Swoop 9:26 pm Them noodles not very good fighting. Them just headbutt. Bite? No long distance weapon! Dumb. Me Swoop could melt soooo much EVERYTHING same path. boomtank 9:27 pm -okay, no, this time he's gonna come back in and sit where he can.- Purgatori 9:27 pm This one looks like Ripley in the third installment Swoop 9:27 pm Bird much much better fighting ZAPPING than those thing! Because shoot. : > Me 9:28 pm ((very belated reply: all the squids started flying together in a stream and rammed into the control center where the humans were directing the battle to knock it over.)) Swoop 9:28 pm Bird better GRABBER than them too! Purgatori 9:28 pm *soft chuckling* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:28 pm ((OH YEAH that part)) Swoop 9:29 pm Pff that not so bad. Me Swoop could fly that. Bird could fly that! ItsyBitsySpyers 9:31 pm *Soundwave listens to Prowl, approving of his assessment of the attack and nodding. In the meantime, Bird chitters and preens by wiggling her tiny mandibles.*

{{Bird shoot down, you melt. Straggler zapped! It good plan.}} boomtank 9:31 pm -small whine- Bevel 9:31 pm ((i missed what happened in the last few minutes, anything major? Swoop 9:31 pm *sees the mandible wiggle, SCREAMS ON THE INSIDE* Purgatori 9:31 pm [[bang bang shooty shooty]] Me 9:31 pm ((pretty much)) Bevel 9:31 pm ((i can live with missing some of that thanks boomtank 9:31 pm -so not happy- Me 9:32 pm ((the ship niobe's piloting is about to reach the dock, which the humans are pretty sure they're losing, but if she gets there in time she might be able to fire an EMP that takes out all the squids but also all the human defenses.)) Swoop 9:33 pm Me Swoop have missiles too! Not JUST fire! Missiles. *reaches around himself to tap some plating on his back that isn't easily visible with his wings laid the way they are now* Me 9:34 pm *... He's pretty sure Ironfist wrote a scene like that once.* Purgatori 9:34 pm Oh boomtank 9:34 pm -that's not good- ItsyBitsySpyers 9:35 pm //Damn good fightin'.// Swoop 9:37 pm *is suddenly more interested nonw that there's 1-on-1 happening* boomtank 9:37 pm -nervous wiggling- Swoop 9:37 pm KEH! That bad chain. Easy, easy break. Purgatori 9:37 pm ....i beleive the other humans are very dead now Swoop 9:38 pm YAH DEAD Kehhehh LOTS of dead ItsyBitsySpyers 9:38 pm *Small puff. He likes the squid things.* *Wouldn't mind a deployer kind of like them, honestly, if he could support another. Which he can't. But if he could.* Purgatori 9:38 pm *do they remind you of yourself, wave* Bevel 9:38 pm *claps for Niobe* Purgatori 9:39 pm ITs a miracel ...miracle boomtank 9:39 pm -settles- Close Swoop 9:39 pm *adds to the emotional moment by chewing loudly on the squeaky chewtoy* *squeak* *squeak* Bevel 9:39 pm *giggles* Swoop 9:39 pm *squeak* Bevel 9:39 pm *perfect timing Swoop* Purgatori 9:40 pm *snorts at whooshing* boomtank 9:40 pm . . . That's not good Purgatori 9:42 pm So...Neo is...Prime, then? ItsyBitsySpyers 9:42 pm [[...Ugh.]] Swoop 9:42 pm Human Prime???? Bevel 9:42 pm Neo is cooler. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:43 pm [[...That would make the Oracle--]] Alpha Trion. [[Hmph.]] Bevel 9:43 pm *which is saying something because Bevel doesn't think Neo is very cool* Purgatori 9:43 pm by the power vested in me, I give you sight Swoop 9:44 pm Can human be prime? Purgatori 9:44 pm ...Jack was Me 9:44 pm *That's a new tactic. What IS that?* Swoop 9:44 pm wheeljack prime?????????? Purgatori 9:44 pm No, not....not that Jack Bevel 9:44 pm Darby? Purgatori 9:44 pm Primus, that is a terrifying thought ItsyBitsySpyers 9:44 pm [[PRIMUS FORBID, Swoop.]] Swoop 9:44 pm *uncontrollable, full body shaking laughter* Purgatori 9:45 pm Lets...never speak of this to him, shall we ItsyBitsySpyers 9:45 pm [[Never.]] Purgatori 9:45 pm The power of Love will overcome anything Swoop 9:45 pm Wheeljack is Prime then maybe MORE DINOBOTS kehehhehhhhhehhhh Purgatori 9:46 pm No, no more Swoop 9:46 pm Yis Purgatori 9:46 pm No We have enough Swoop 9:46 pm MILLION DINOBOTS boomtank 9:46 pm ....what is THAT!? Purgatori 9:46 pm No Swoop 9:46 pm : > ItsyBitsySpyers 9:46 pm [[Bombs.]] Swoop 9:46 pm Why? boomtank 9:46 pm No, no, the thing fiering the bombs Purgatori 9:46 pm Because we have more than we can handle with you Swoop 9:46 pm Kehhehh boomtank 9:47 pm And squid things ItsyBitsySpyers 9:47 pm [[...He does not know.]] Swoop 9:47 pm Swoop is "handful" HUH? Purgatori 9:47 pm You? Who said I was talking abot you Me 9:47 pm ... I'm sorry. How does that work. How is he blowing them up. That's rubbish. Bevel 9:47 pm Magic. Me 9:47 pm No. Swoop 9:47 pm Swoop is Dinobot Purgatori 9:47 pm Are you? Swoop 9:47 pm YAH Purgatori 9:47 pm I just thought you were a spoiled sparkling. My mistake ItsyBitsySpyers 9:47 pm [[An ability to see and affect their code?]] Swoop 9:47 pm nooOOOO Me Swoop not a BABY Me Swoop am Dinobot warrior Purgatori 9:48 pm *scritches swoops helm* Swoop 9:48 pm Bomber *leans into scritches and squeaks the chew toy* Me 9:48 pm This has been purely scientifically based all the way to now, I'm going to switch to watching a fantasy right at the end. boomtank 9:48 pm Oh...and wow Purgatori 9:48 pm *His case im point* Me 9:48 pm By what mechanism does he, a human, remotely access their code? Swoop 9:48 pm Dinobots kill people : > Bevel 9:48 pm Maybe his mind is still attached to the machine world and he can do his Matrix stuff in the real world now? Purgatori 9:48 pm The power of Love boomtank 9:49 pm ????? Windchill 9:49 pm *Arrives.* Me 9:49 pm But his "Matrix stuff" was manipulating the programming of the Matrix. The real world doesn't HAVE programming. Windchill 9:49 pm *Is he late...again?* *Wow such talent.* Purgatori 9:49 pm *Oh a new person* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:49 pm [[...Wifi?]] Purgatori 9:49 pm She is ...not doing well ItsyBitsySpyers 9:49 pm *Soft huff.* Windchill 9:49 pm *An old person excuse you.* Bevel 9:49 pm *snickers* Me 9:49 pm ......... Sure, all right. Purgatori 9:50 pm This trope is so overused ItsyBitsySpyers 9:50 pm *Soundwave flicks a hand and huffs again. That's his best g-- oh.* Bevel 9:50 pm Soundwave has the best answers. Swoop 9:50 pm ((I am blown away by how much whispertalking is in this series. Somehow I didn't process that before now)) Windchill 9:50 pm Damn, looks like I missed all of the dramatic parts. Me 9:50 pm ((whispers are edgy)) Swoop 9:50 pm *EXPLODES laughing at Trinity being impaled so many times* Purgatori 9:50 pm How is...she talking right now? Windchill 9:50 pm I didn't have anything to wear, so I came naked. Sorry. Purgatori 9:50 pm Thats not..not possible Swoop 9:51 pm Me Swoop get stab before Not TALK boomtank 9:51 pm -huffs- Swoop 9:51 pm But Firebreath Purgatori 9:51 pm Give it a rest, Neo Swoop 9:51 pm Same thing Dead Them, not Swoop kehhhehhe Windchill 9:51 pm *He gon' sit down.* Me 9:51 pm (("yes i can." you can do anything you set your mind to trinity, i believe in you.)) Purgatori 9:51 pm *wow this ....this hurts. More than he wants it to* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:51 pm [[She IS carrying on well for a meat creature with so many punctures.]] Purgatori 9:52 pm *he might have to leave* Swoop 9:52 pm *bored now, chewtoy time* *squeak* *squeak* *squeak* Windchill 9:52 pm She's taking a long time to die. *Crosses his legs.* *At least it's not green.* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:52 pm [[...What she really wanted to say was "kiss me"?]] Purgatori 9:52 pm *yep hes heading to the door* Bevel 9:52 pm ((kiss me goodbye~ Windchill 9:53 pm He sucked the life right out of her, like a vampire! Purgatori 9:53 pm [[IF YOU LOVE ME LET ME GOOOOOOOO]] Me 9:53 pm @S «... Is that weird?» Windchill 9:53 pm Nobody told me this was about vampires! Swoop 9:53 pm *is confused by the sudden lack of headscritches but has a mouthful of chewtoy preventing him from words right now* Purgatori 9:53 pm *slowly walks back into the room, sits down heavily on the couch, he will make u move, swoop* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:53 pm @P: (txt:) ...What, weird? Me 9:54 pm @S «That what she wanted to say was "kiss me"?» Swoop 9:54 pm *is busy sitting by Bird, clearly the world should revolve around him.... or in this case around Bird* Windchill 9:54 pm *Cups his chin in his hands, preparing for the no doubt thrilling conclusion.* *Furrows his brows.* Purgatori 9:55 pm Insecticons Windchill 9:55 pm Pfft. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:55 pm *Soundwave looks to the screen for a bit, thinking. The way she was talking, he thought she was going to come up with some big statement or secret or encouragement, or something of the sort, but...*

*Glances to Prowl.*

*Looks to the screen.*

*...Back to Prowl.*

@P: (txt): No. Not weird. Swoop 9:55 pm Burbul *comes the pitiful attempt at talking around a mouthful of chewtoy* Me 9:55 pm *slight nod.* boomtank 9:55 pm ...... Yikes Windchill 9:55 pm It looks like an angry sea urchin. *He's not intimidated* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:56 pm [[...Fascinating.]] Windchill 9:56 pm Now it looks gross. Purgatori 9:56 pm Is that...a baby Swoop 9:56 pm Not a BAAAABBYY Me 9:56 pm *Ah, a healthy, thriving mechanical city. You don't see those often in alien media.* Purgatori 9:57 pm Bargaining. When has that ever gone right for both parties Bevel 9:57 pm *wonders why all robot cities are so dreary looking in human movies* Me 9:57 pm *It's stormy out.* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:57 pm [[Bargaining has its uses.]] Purgatori 9:57 pm *snorts at that position* Swoop 9:57 pm Feelers Windchill 9:57 pm Yuck. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:58 pm *Glance without moving head.* Me 9:58 pm *Goes very still again.* Purgatori 9:58 pm Menemosurgery. Thats what this is like Windchill 9:58 pm That's yucky and I don't like it very much. Swoop 9:58 pm What mnemosurgery is? Purgatori 9:58 pm it is brain surgery, swoop. Swoop 9:58 pm *other than the biggest word a dinobot has ever said* Purgatori 9:58 pm [[ATLEAST SWOOP SAID IT RIGHT I BUTCHERED IT AHAHAHA IM TERIBBLE] Me 9:59 pm ... It's a subject that can probably wait to be covered until after the movie is over. Windchill 9:59 pm *Opens his mouth, shuts it.* Swoop 9:59 pm Ohhh brain surgery You say Next time say that Easier Kehhheh Purgatori 9:59 pm *clenches fist* *drama* *vocals* Windchill 10:00 pm I love all of this. *he waves, gesturing to encompass all of it.* Green shit. Swoop 10:00 pm KAH! Him fall bad ItsyBitsySpyers 10:00 pm [[...So many.]] Me 10:00 pm ... He thinks he's going to win because he has the Oracle's eyes. He doesn't know the Oracle can no longer predict the future with complete accuracy. Purgatori 10:00 pm Are they seekers now boomtank 10:01 pm ...what is going on? besides a big fight scene? ItsyBitsySpyers 10:01 pm ((omg i have seen this like a dozen times and i never picked that up puff)) Windchill 10:01 pm *Leans forward and rubs his temples, trying not to laugh.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:01 pm ((i am ashaaaamed)) Swoop 10:01 pm Them not very good bombers Them no good at quick strike Them fighting in air like it ground Dumb Windchill 10:01 pm They are very good at looking silly, Swoop. Like Seekers. I would know. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:01 pm *Soundwave's plating pulls in at "the purpose of life is to end". That sounds too much like - well.* Swoop 10:01 pm Kehheheh YAH Silly Purgatori 10:02 pm *if that sentence is true...when will ratchet find peace* Windchill 10:02 pm *Nods in agreement with Swoop agreeing with him.* Purgatori 10:02 pm That is not how human anatomy works boomtank 10:02 pm That Smith guy is wrong Swoop 10:03 pm Him punch air BEFORE flying Bad ItsyBitsySpyers 10:03 pm [[Of course he is wrong.]] Bevel 10:03 pm Very wrong. Swoop 10:03 pm Soundwave, you find movie GOOD fliers fighting next time Windchill 10:03 pm *Snickers. He can't help it.* Me 10:03 pm ... It's just... Smiths, forever. Every window they pass. Has EVERY human in the Matrix...? Swoop 10:03 pm Lots of energon. Kehheheh. Broken stuff. boomtank 10:04 pm If you only look at life as an end waiting to happen, you're not living. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:04 pm [[The purpose of life is to gather experience and information, and seek to see all that is.]] Purgatori 10:04 pm Wings. He had...lightning. ...for wings Windchill 10:04 pm Kinky. Swoop 10:04 pm Me Swoop can have FIRE wings Sometimes ItsyBitsySpyers 10:04 pm [[And most likely every human. Yes.]] [[And program.]] Swoop 10:04 pm Until wind put out Windchill 10:04 pm That's cool, Swoop. Purgatori 10:04 pm I think you mean thats hot Me 10:04 pm *...* Swoop 10:04 pm Kehhehehhh Purgatori 10:05 pm *dad jokes, everyone, you heard it here first* Windchill 10:05 pm *He wasn't gonna go there, it might get taken the wrong way coming from him.* boomtank 10:05 pm .... Windchill 10:05 pm *But Whirl isn't here so he has no-one to flirt with.* Swoop 10:05 pm *licks his own arm then lets out a puff of flame to light the flammable fluid on his arm* *FIRE ARMS* Purgatori 10:05 pm Swoop Swoop 10:05 pm *well arm* Windchill 10:05 pm Heeey put that out, bucko. Purgatori 10:05 pm Why Swoop 10:05 pm That. BUT. Wings! : > Purgatori 10:06 pm Megatron and Prime Swoop 10:06 pm *holds his arm out to windchill for inspection* Windchill 10:06 pm *Fans at it with his giant yaoi hand.* Purgatori 10:06 pm *tosses fire blanket over swoops arm* *rubs at it* Swoop 10:07 pm !!! ItsyBitsySpyers 10:07 pm *It disturbs him too. The idea of, say, every single thing in his head becoming replaced with a single image. Every possible scrap of memory, every hint of identity, one thing. How horrifying.*

*And he's not the one who had his brain module tampered with and frame modified in recent memory. Prowl surely has a thousand times the discomfort.*

@P: (txt): Offer: hand? Windchill 10:07 pm Neato, but, like... Swoop 10:07 pm Ratchet Fire out : < Purgatori 10:07 pm *removes blanket* Windchill 10:07 pm Fire is an outside thing. Purgatori 10:07 pm Thank you Me 10:07 pm @S «... No.» Swoop 10:07 pm Dinobot is outside thing Me 10:07 pm *gratitude ping* Purgatori 10:07 pm Yes Windchill 10:07 pm *Nods.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:07 pm @Prowl: (txt): Acknowledged.

*Welcoming ping.* Windchill 10:07 pm We can go outside and you can show us more cool fire stuff. Swoop 10:08 pm How come no inside fire? Wheeljack does inside fire Purgatori 10:08 pm Hes not supposed to Windchill 10:08 pm Wheeljack is disreputable and hardly a good role model. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:08 pm [[...He said "Neo."]] Bevel 10:08 pm I hope when Neo wins everyone goes back to being themselves and stops looking alike. It is really creepy. Swoop 10:09 pm Wheeljack is "dinodad" : > boomtank 10:09 pm What just.... notthisagain -covers face- Windchill 10:10 pm Fire inside isn't good, you could burn down a building. Swoop 10:10 pm YAH Purgatori 10:10 pm Fifth element did something like this Swoop 10:10 pm ((good lord I remembered New Christ being on the nose but I didn't remember the goddamn light cross with his angel wings)) boomtank 10:10 pm -pers back out to this- Purgatori 10:11 pm [[and the music]] Me 10:11 pm ... Neo was a trojan. Swoop 10:11 pm Dinobots good for burning buildings down boomtank 10:11 pm .......What in the ever loving-? Purgatori 10:11 pm Not this building, Swoop Windchill 10:11 pm What if burning buildings down isn't good? Purgatori 10:11 pm I beleive soundwave and Bird, was it? would be upset ItsyBitsySpyers 10:11 pm {{Yes. Big upset, Bird. Angry angry, shoot aft.}} Purgatori 10:11 pm *snorts* Swoop 10:11 pm nnoooOOoooOOOOOooo Swoop not DOING Purgatori 10:12 pm *someone needs to shoot his aft more often* Swoop 10:12 pm Swoop CAN burning building *bounces in place* CAN do Not DO do ((man he's lucky that he's right or he'd be some kind of asshole)) Windchill 10:12 pm (( *snorts* )) Me 10:12 pm ((right? maybe they were just retreating to refuel.)) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:12 pm *Nods to Prowl. He would have thought of Neo as a program that helps a blocked antivirus run, but the main idea is there.* boomtank 10:13 pm So...they won? Purgatori 10:13 pm *again, ouch.* Bevel 10:13 pm *thinks Prowl is talking about the Trojan army/horse but it still makes sense to her* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:13 pm [[It is a truce.]] Windchill 10:13 pm I like the bug thing. boomtank 10:13 pm -UGH- Me 10:14 pm *considering that trojan viruses were named after the army/horse, yyyyyes?* Windchill 10:14 pm *points* Cat. boomtank 10:14 pm Don't remind me Swoop 10:14 pm *offers Bird his chew toy* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:14 pm *Bird gives it a squeak with her claws* Swoop 10:14 pm : > *her claws may now smell like they were on a dirty flamethrower because y'know they were* Me 10:15 pm *... Smith DIDN'T overwrite their brains, the data is still all there. They're back to normal. They were just being puppete—* *Prowl might have preferred if they were dead.* Bevel 10:16 pm *is glad everyone is still alive* Windchill 10:16 pm That sky sure is rainbow. Purgatori 10:16 pm Skylanders Swoop 10:16 pm Us watch How To Train Your Dragon Purgatori 10:16 pm *perks up* Bevel 10:16 pm ((sudden church choir boomtank 10:17 pm -sighs- I understood very little of all that Windchill 10:17 pm That dragon has a fat head. (( *weeps for the memory of the original Spyro.* )) Purgatori 10:17 pm He reminds me of.....that one predacon. Predaking? Windchill 10:17 pm Predadingaling. Swoop 10:17 pm Me Swoop meet Predaking! Me Swoop meet Purgatori 10:17 pm Did you now Swoop 10:17 pm Meet Him YAH Purgatori 10:18 pm Did you two compare flame breath ItsyBitsySpyers 10:18 pm [[What did you not catch, Blaster?]] Swoop 10:18 pm And Darksteel and Skylynx and lots of little Predacons Nooooo *disappointed* Windchill 10:18 pm Sounds dirty. Swoop 10:18 pm Predaking is THEM king. Grimlock is Dinobot King. If them meet Them FIGHT Me Swoop want to watch kehhehhhh Windchill 10:19 pm *Scoffs, just a little.* boomtank 10:19 pm Just about everything Purgatori 10:19 pm I have to go. Thank you for the film. Bevel 10:19 pm *Bevel is gonna leave now because the mun isn't feeling too hot, night everyone* Me 10:20 pm ((gnight, feel better)) Windchill 10:20 pm (( Gnight! )) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:20 pm [[You are welcome, Ratchet.]] Purgatori 10:20 pm Have a good evening. boomtank 10:20 pm g'night!)) Swoop 10:20 pm *squeaks the toy in one long, drawn out, annoying squeak* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:20 pm [[And goodnight, Bevel.]] Windchill 10:20 pm *Makes a face at new guy's retreating backside.* boomtank 10:20 pm Then again, I've been a bit...distracted ItsyBitsySpyers 10:21 pm [[There were two films before it, and you were... busy. Tonight.]] *Glance at Swoop.* Swoop 10:21 pm *stares at Soundwave* boomtank 10:21 pm Oh. Well, that would explain Windchill 10:22 pm But can you explain...my face? boomtank 10:22 pm A metrotitan punched you ItsyBitsySpyers 10:22 pm [[He tries not to.]] Windchill 10:22 pm ... I like that explanation. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:22 pm *Oh, he liked that one. Well done, points to Blaster.* *And now, while everyone else is distracted, looks to Prowl.* Windchill 10:23 pm I must be pretty tough to have survived that and come out looking this good. Go me. boomtank 10:23 pm -snorts- Swoop 10:23 pm *stares at the chew toy and SERIOUSLY considers setting it ablaze* *it's good now but fire really could only improve this situaation* boomtank 10:23 pm Yes. Go you. Swoop 10:23 pm *the question is how long it'd still squeak before it was just goo......* Me 10:23 pm *Has an intense frown on his face.* ... Wait. boomtank 10:24 pm -so much sarcasm- Windchill 10:24 pm *Strokes his enormous chin.* Me 10:24 pm That was BEVEL? Windchill 10:24 pm I'm amazing. I mean, look at my amazing chin. Are you not amazed? ItsyBitsySpyers 10:24 pm [[...Yes?]] boomtank 10:24 pm No Windchill 10:24 pm Well, your loss. Swoop 10:24 pm *lol jk fire improves everything* Me 10:24 pm ... Oh. Swoop 10:24 pm *ignites the chewtoy while gnawing on it* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:24 pm @P: (txt): ...Prowl not aware Bevel: shapeshifter? Windchill 10:25 pm *Gives Swoop a glare with one eye. The other...is elsewhere.* boomtank 10:25 pm My loss in what department? Me 10:25 pm Which one? Because one of them looked just like Ratch— No, you called him Ratchet. Other one. Windchill 10:25 pm *Probably ogling Blaster, sorry dude.* boomtank 10:25 pm -Swoop, no, fire bad in confined areas- Me 10:25 pm Yes, I knew. I just... thought there were two new guests tonight. Usually Bevel looks like Bevel. Swoop 10:25 pm *couldn't care less, continues to chew on a screaming, burning chewtoy* Windchill 10:26 pm Well, the way I have it figured. If you're not appreciating how amazing I am, you're missing out on my sparkling personality. *Says the guy with like two friends ever.* *With good reason.* *And he knows it.* boomtank 10:26 pm I'm sure. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:26 pm *Soundwave tilts his helm.* boomtank 10:26 pm -flat tone- Windchill 10:26 pm *He's still stroking his chin.* I am very sparkly. boomtank 10:27 pm -too tired for tact- ItsyBitsySpyers 10:27 pm [[You have not been around her very often.]] [[...IS THAT SMOKE. SWOOP.]] Swoop 10:27 pm *said toy is starting to be more goo than actual toy so, now that the death squeaks are over, he spits it out on the floor to die abandoned* YUP ItsyBitsySpyers 10:27 pm *Immediately bridges Swoop and his toy OUTSIDE* Swoop 10:27 pm *WHOOSH* *is outside* : > ItsyBitsySpyers 10:28 pm [[...What was he saying.]] Windchill 10:28 pm One time I was even sparkle...sparklier...when my friend—the girlfriend that I stole—painted my nails. Swoop 10:28 pm *but the awful smells can't be bridged out, later nerds!* Windchill 10:28 pm *Thanks, Swoop. You and your smells will not be soon forgotten.* boomtank 10:28 pm You stole a girlfriend Really? Windchill 10:29 pm Yeah, apparently. It wasn't on purpose. boomtank 10:29 pm How? Windchill 10:29 pm *Palms up, shrug.* boomtank 10:29 pm You stole someone on accident Windchill 10:30 pm That's what her boyfriend said. 'Cause... I'm not sure. boomtank 10:31 pm Yikes ItsyBitsySpyers 10:31 pm [[Ah. Bevel. Yes. He... actually does not know what her base form is anymore. He knew when she was a newbuild. Hmm.]] Windchill 10:31 pm *The chin stroking slows considerably while he stares off into space, or at the nearest wall between him and space.* Me 10:32 pm ... Would THAT not be her base form, then? Windchill 10:32 pm Anyway she painted my nails and we nearly died from the fumes. boomtank 10:32 pm Your luck sounds weird ItsyBitsySpyers 10:32 pm [[It may not be.]] Windchill 10:32 pm But the sparkles were worth it. boomtank 10:33 pm ...not going to ask Me 10:33 pm ... You're saying the form she was forged with is somehow not her base form? *dryly* Do you suspect she was born already in disguise? Windchill 10:33 pm Good. *He'll leave out the part with the twerking and the ass kicking then.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:34 pm [[He suspects she may have changed her root mode, as we do. It *has* been millions of years. ... For her.]] Me 10:34 pm ... Would a shapeshifter NEED to change their root mode? Can't they just... shift shape? Windchill 10:34 pm *Stops chin-stroking to stretch.* boomtank 10:35 pm -shakes his helm- You're weird ItsyBitsySpyers 10:35 pm *Soundwave lifts a curled hand to his face and perches his chin between two knuckles.*

[[He should have asked Makeshift more while that mech was still alive.]] Windchill 10:36 pm *Shrugs mid-extended-stretch, with a grunt for good measure.* Or maybe. Me 10:36 pm ... Is it rude to ask shapeshifters about their shapeshifting? Like talking about someone's alt-mode? Windchill 10:36 pm I'm normal. Me 10:36 pm I figure it must be, otherwise they'd be answering the same questions from different people five times a day. Windchill 10:36 pm And it's everyone else who's weird. *He knows that the idea defies the definition of "normal," shhhh.* boomtank 10:37 pm You do know what the definition of weird is, right? Windchill 10:37 pm Maybe. But that would be telling. boomtank 10:38 pm Uh-huh Windchill 10:38 pm I gotta maintain an air of.. Of.. Mystery. *Or something.* boomtank 10:39 pm And you're doing that by not saying if you know the definition to a word or not ItsyBitsySpyers 10:39 pm [[He is inclined to agree. The only ones he knew were - closed-mouthed.]] Chin tap. [[He has pull with Bevel. He will see if she would mind sharing information.]] Windchill 10:39 pm I work in mysterious ways... boomtank 10:39 pm No you don't It's not mysterious Windchill 10:40 pm I'm so mysterious you can't even comprehend it. Me 10:40 pm Not if it's rude to ask. Windchill 10:40 pm *Barely contained hysterical giggling.* *Sounds like a hog eating mud.* boomtank 10:41 pm It's boring Windchill 10:41 pm If saying so makes you feel better about it, I accept. boomtank 10:41 pm I take it back. You're not weird. You're boring. Windchill 10:41 pm Boring sounds nice. boomtank 10:42 pm -going back to his data-pad now- Windchill 10:42 pm Boring is safe, boring means that nothing goes wrong. It sounds fantastic. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:42 pm [[Then he will ask if she believes it is rude to ask first.]] Windchill 10:43 pm Anyway. *He doesn't care that he's only talking to himself at this point, not even a little.* Me 10:43 pm ... That works. Windchill 10:43 pm I must go. My wiggler, *he rests a hand on his chest, sighing dreamily for good measure.* Needs me. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:44 pm //Already? Throw 'er a snack from us.// Windchill 10:44 pm It's SLOBBERIN' TIME. I'll pass along the sentiment. And other, more edible things. *Which is everything except maybe lava, therein lies the problem and the hurry.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:46 pm *Heh.* Windchill 10:47 pm *She already ate her uncle's action figures and tried to eat another uncle, every day is exciting!* *Someone has to manage the chaos.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:48 pm *Soundwave suddenly pipes up again.*

[[He thought it was -asking- about alt modes that was rude. It is rude where you are from to talk about them as well?]] Because he's probably offended several people, if so. *Soundwave does not envy Windchill that job.* *His chaos rabble are bad enough and they don't eat everything. Only Ravage does.* Windchill 10:49 pm *Nobody does, but it's not thankless work.* Me 10:49 pm Just asking, primarily. If you volunteer information first, that's acceptable. And typically, volunteering information grants one's conversational partner permission to ask follow-up questions. Windchill 10:49 pm You guys have fun sitting in the dark. I gotta go sit in the dark somewhere else. With my spawn. *Gets up, and it's about time too.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:50 pm ((why's it so quiet in here, i ask myself, before remembering that i have control of the stream and forgot to put music on)) //That's what nightlights're for.// Windchill 10:50 pm She'd probably eat them. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:51 pm //Then you'd have a glowworm. Heh.// Windchill 10:51 pm *SPITS.* *Sorry.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:51 pm //Aw, mech, c'mon. I gotta clean that today.// Windchill 10:52 pm You caught me off guard! *Sighs dramatically.* Gimme a mop and I'll get it. *Primus knows he's used to cleaning up spit at this point, what's a little more?* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:52 pm [[Then he gives you permission to ask questions, in the future, without waiting for volunteered information. While reserving the right to keep some data to himself.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 10:54 pm //Nah, nah. Jus' owe me a drink or somethin' for all my hard 'n respectable work.// ItsyBitsySpyers 10:54 pm [[Or in the present. He assumed everything after his statement was 'future' when he said it.]] Hand flick. He's babbling. Windchill 10:54 pm That's not as funny. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:55 pm //Naw, but I get a free drink.// Windchill 10:55 pm *Scratches his chin.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:55 pm *Chuckle* Windchill 10:55 pm Not really my area, there. I'll figure something out. *Sounds like a losing deal to him, but does he care? Nah.* Me 10:56 pm ... How do you see in your alt-mode without headlights. *It's been bugging him.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:57 pm ((....give the mun a second to remember her HC on that one lmao)) Windchill 10:58 pm *He'll ask someone with even slightly more knowledge of drinking, later.* Byyyyyyyye, suckerrrrrrrrs. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:58 pm //Laters.// Windchill 10:59 pm *Waves, and walks out.* boomtank 11:01 pm -and as soon as Windchill is gone, he's standing up- Thanks for the movie ItsyBitsySpyers 11:01 pm [[Quite welcome. Hopefully next week you will not be so lost.]] boomtank 11:01 pm Heh. Hopefully. G'night. -and off he goes.- ItsyBitsySpyers 11:03 pm *Soundwave holds his hand up for patience (and no startled questions) from Prowl and rises. He turns to face the couch, steps forward, and uses the quick second of extra height to flip backward and into alt mode. Can't be hitting Prowl in the face with his wings, y'know.* *He slowly rotates to face Prowl and gestures with a feeler to the small black screen at the underside of his alt mode's nose.* Me 11:05 pm *Prowl leans forward to look at it.* ... That's an optical sensor? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:06 pm (txt): Affirmative. Other sensors, elsewhere. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:08 pm (txt): Wide view below. Long-range sight: excellent. Me 11:21 pm Huh. Is that the sensor itself, or is it a visor covering the real ones? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:26 pm (txt): Protective screen, unremovable. Sensors: delicate, calibrated.

The feeler suddenly twitched and spun.

(txt): Many weaknesses exposed. Prowl: trusted, safeguards. Agreed?

He didn't want Getaway knowing where to shoot to make fleeing difficult if he ever got a wild wire. Me 11:26 pm Agreed. ... I'd tell you where my alt-mode optical sensors are, but they all light up, so. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:30 pm *Soundwave tumbled forward into root mode again while Prowl talked and unfolded his arms, returning to Prowl's side.*

(txt): ...Dangerous. Bright target. How prevented, destruction? Me 11:32 pm ... Driving /around/ the bullets. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:33 pm (txt): ...Partial error commited. Headlight sensors possessed when Soundwave: vehicle.

*That flowerlike loading/processing ring makes its reappearance on his screen.*

(txt): -Around?- How? Bullets: fast. Me 11:34 pm *... belated humor tag* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:35 pm *Oh. OH. Okay. He knew Prowl's reflex limits from the space bridge tests, so he'd thought Prowl's trajectory calculations were fast enough to allow for...*

(txt): Would believe if truth. Me 11:38 pm Pff. I'm flattered. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:43 pm *Nods.*

(txt): Prowl given sympathy. Expected back optics joke number: thousands.

(txt): ...Useful, if plain sight planning. Soundwave notes. Me 11:44 pm Thousands is about right. "Plain sight planning"? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:47 pm (txt): Assume Prowl: facing wall.

*Points to the video screens.*

(txt): Conversing, partner identity: any. Behind Prowl, other table: Soundwave. There, casual gestures made. These, predesigned messages. Prowl sees, notes. Others never wise. Me 11:49 pm Hmm. *thin smirk.* Interesting. Do you want to try it? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:50 pm (txt): When? Me 11:50 pm ... Don't know. There aren't exactly many opportunities to try it out, these days. ...... And it seems like internal comms would be more efficient. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:51 pm (txt): Comms not always safe.

*Points to himself.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:52 pm (txt): ...Clarification: -Soundwave's- comms: safe, unless alternate, equal skill present. Then, uncertain. Referenced comms: other mechs'. Me 11:53 pm *dryly* Soundwave, have you been eavesdropping on my calls to you? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:53 pm *HUFF* Me 11:53 pm You can't trust anyone these days. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:57 pm (txt): Prowl's secret: discovered. Self, Prowl, in relationship. Silence offered; required blackmail payment: deliver kiss upstairs. Me 11:58 pm Well, then. I guess I have no choice, do I? Yesterday ItsyBitsySpyers 11:59 pm *Leans back a little, now concerned.*

(txt): Prowl has choice. That, self-mocking joke. Kiss not required if not wanted. Me 12:01 am ... I was joking along. Of course I want to kiss you. ItsyBitsySpyers 12:03 am *...Nods. Yes. Right.*

(txt): Understood. Soundwave departs, destination: collection location. Reminder: Come alone.

*He's almost tempted to make a crack about police accompaniment but decides that'll spoil the mood.* Me 12:03 am Well, don't you think you should escort me? To ensure I don't go get backup? ItsyBitsySpyers 12:06 am (txt): Point accepted. Instructions: Stay close. Me 12:07 am *He'll just get to his feet and wrap an arm around Soundwave's.* ... For the record, this is about the limit of my improv roleplaying abilities. So. Don't get your hopes too high. ItsyBitsySpyers 12:08 am (txt): That, relief. Eighty alternates: plenty. Soundwave prefers self being self. *Pops open a bridge. To the apartment, this time. He wants to not be woken by the sound of shouting deployers in the morning.* Me 12:10 am *Puzzled blink. Did Soundwave think Prowl was going to try to imitate /him/ next?* ItsyBitsySpyers 12:10 am *It was the logical plot twist.* Me 12:10 am *Well, never mind that. Through the bridge—Prowl's got some blackmail to settle.* ItsyBitsySpyers 12:11 am *And off they've gone.*

[black-strike-otp]

part 87

♫♪ I am not your pet, not another thing you own. I was not born guilty of your crimes. Your riches and your influence can’t hold me anymore. I won’t be possessed. Burdened by your royal test. I will not surrender this life, is, mine~ ♫♪

More small tidbits. Since tonight’s Halloween, there won’t be another chap tonight, and only one posted tomorrow as well, just an FYI!

Music lifted through the air and carried a melancholy tune through the shipyard. There was only one small craft in the large room void of bots. With the topside landing strip and lower hatch, this area was obviously hardly used. A thin layer of dust covered the majority of the room though it appeared someone had made a genuine effort to clear the area of some of it at one point and gave up.

The soft sneeze caused Blackout to flinch. He looked down at Novastrike’s apologetic smile as she sheepishly lowered her audio receptors.

He gave a small shake of his helm. Offering a brief smile, Blackout casually strolled over to the Jaguar. This had been their first meeting at the seeker’s vessel while on the Nemesis. Meeting in their rooms was unquestionably stupid, and speaking too frequently in the med-bay was risky business. They couldn’t depend on the option of just flying off the Nemesis and relying on late meet ups anymore; such frequent jours spent off the ship for even brief interweaving amounts of time was bound to come to Megatron’s attention if it hadn’t already.

Infiltrator poked his helm out first. The beast’s red optics looked to Blackout, then to Novastrike, then to Scorponok who offered a click in greeting. He turned around, wishing his tail as he returned inside the ship.

Assuming that was the best indication they were going to have that it was okay to enter, Blackout followed the dragon slowly.

The Jaguar clearly wasn’t built to have someone as tall as himself on board. It didn’t surprise him; he was above even the average ‘tallest’ bots. Slumping his shoulders, Blackout bowed his helm as he grumbled and squeezed himself into the tight space.

It came to some surprise to see a sight he hadn’t witnessed in generations. With bow in servo, Nighthawk drew the thin cable hair along those strung up along the violin. He hadn’t even considered the melody to be more than a recorded backdrop to hide their words, but with dark light adding to the atmosphere and almost pained look upon the medic’s faceplate, he played on the harmony.

“Gosh,” Novastrike whispered as she revered the seeker with envy. “I didn’t know Nighthawk could play an instrument. That sounds absolutely enchanting. Who wrote that?”

Light flickered in Nighthawk’s optics as he glanced slightly to Novastrike with embarrassment. He dropped his equipment from his shoulder and placed it neatly in a lined box on the floor. After snapping the case shut, he leaned forward in his seat to tap a button. The recording began to fill the area from his playing outside of the ship; muffled within the Jaguar.

“It’s an original,” Nighthawk admitted sheepishly.

“You play so lovely,” Nova murmured, nervously scuffing her pedes on the floor. “The song really draws a lot of pain, though.”

“That’s because it was written in a fit of pain,” the medic stated as he pushed himself up to stand.

“I’m surprised you still have that,” Blackout grumbled, nodding his helm to the instruments case as Infiltrator wound around the chair to retrieve it. He disappeared further into the ship to place it back where it had been stored.

“My sire got it for me,” he grunted in answer somewhat angrily. “I would never get rid of Roi Têtu.”

Raising an optic ridge, the giant mech snorted softly. “‘The Stubborn King’? An interesting name.”

“‘The greatest slave in a kingdom is generally the king of it’,” Nighthawk quoted with a simple nod. “Roi Têtu has been a fine friend to me over the years, and has reminded me of my more humble beginnings. I would never simply sell off or trade a trusted confident.”

Flicking her audios, Novastrike peered sideways up to Blackout. He offered a slight shrug. The name made little sense to him as well. He had believed it to be some silly reference to how musicians felt as though they were slaves to their weapons whim.

“I didn’t call you here for your interpretation of my work,” the medic spoke up firmly, walking over to pick up a datapad from a stand.

Blackout shifted his pedes, feeling a slight throbbing ache in his neck already for keeping in this hunched position. He watched as Nighthawk’s projector on his pad flashed out a large map. For a moment, the obsidian giant was confused by the moving dots on the screen. Then he looked through the large holographic screen to meet the seeker’s smug expression.

“This is a live feed of the cavern system where the space bridge is kept, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Nighthawk agreed.

“Isn’t it dangerous to have more than just a screenshot,” Novastrike offered quietly.

“Why do we have an active ledger of what’s going on in the mines?” Blackout mused.

“Most likely to keep an optic on the workers,” Nighthawk stated in a voice that suggested such a question was obvious. He glanced to Nova as he went on, “I would agree with you on this normally, but I have a secure network hidden in the ship transmitting the feed.”

Blackout scoffed. “Safe? Even from Soundwave’s detection?”

Wincing slightly, the medic resized the screen display smaller so that he could easily meet Blackout’s optics. “I believe so,” he murmured nervously. “I used a data transfer developed by Soundwave himself.”

“How in Primus name would you get a hold of something like that?” Blackout asked with wide optics. “How can you even be assured it’s something Soundwave made?”

“Because I was given that encryption stick eons ago when it was a prototype Megatron had ordered so that Decepticons could hack into Autobot databases,” the seeker growled. “No one is as clever or capable of hacking a system as fast as Soundwave; he’s been a walking computer server since purging much of his emotional core for more space in that helm of his. So he invented these transmitter data sticks. They’re meant to go undetected and change their method of discretely taking data to go undetected as long as possible. Since I programmed it only to the program with the map for the mine, it’s even less likely to be found out; not to mention it’s recognized coding on our ship.”

Narrowing his optics, Blackout let out a slight vent. “Soundwave does happen to be preoccupied with decoding the Iacon relic locations,” he mused in a deep voice.

“The Iacon relics?” Nighthawk echoed.

“Long story, and one that doesn’t matter much at the moment anyway,” Blackout stated, pressing his pointer and thumb digit in the space between his optics. “How soon will you be ready to depart? Novastrike, Scorponok and I have practically everything we need on us; and I’m not risking stealing anything from this blasted ship and having Megatron hunt me down and throw me around the ship like he did you.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” the medic badgered with a flick of his wings. “Infiltrator and I are more than ready to go. Everything not taken off the Jaguar by the Eradicon and Vehicon is still here. We didn’t bother bringing anything into our room.”

“Fair enough,” he grunted, crossing his arms. “Let’s watch the feed for a few days and determine our best course of action-”

“Already done,” the seeker confidently chorused, tapping a few keys on his datapad. A collection of areas were circled and lit up red.

“These clustered spots are recorded high activity areas I’ve noticed backtracking the data saved from these maps. They’re where the majority of the guards are stationed, where they trade off new sentries, and where most stand around. The higher the traffic area, the more marks there are.”

Humming thoughtfully, Blackout squinted at the screen. The seeker extended its size a few more ratios for him to examine better.

“It looks like our best route goes here,” Blackout muttered, ghosting a digit through the map.

“-leads us here,” Nighthawk stated, drawing his digit in as well.

“-goes through this area-”

“-and finally we’re lead here, which is a high concentration zone.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” snorted the large mech.

“I’m not an idiot, Blackout,” the seeker retorted hotly. “Tthere’s no zone that is clear of high-risk areas. Anyway, as you can tell, it leads us in to this tunnel and down in this larger chamber is where the space bridge is kept, see?”

“I’m not blind, mech.”

“Good to know, then I guess you can see we’ll expect high resistance once we hit the space bridge.”

“If we make it that far, we need to be in and out as fast as possible,” Blackout stated quietly, his optics narrowed at the screen.

“Well, obviously,” vented the medic, looking down to Scorponok and Novastrike. “Scorponok, I assume you can help make us a more clear path ahead here?”

The bug nodded as he indicated at the chart, giving a chirp.

“Infiltrator and I are going to remain here to make sure the area stays clear while you two get the space bridge activated. Scorponok should join you when we’re sure the area had been cleared of anymore bots.”

Letting out a quiet breath, Novastrike looked up to Nighthawk as she exclaimed, “Why? Shouldn’t we all stick together? Or at least have Scorponok or I stay with you to help-”

Nighthawk gave a swift shake of his helm. “Two reasons why I suggest this: one, as medics, Infiltrator and I have a deceptive quality. We’re valuable assets, and bots are less likely to use lethal force on us upon sight. The ‘Cons may even be unaware of the breech and we might be able to fib through medical engineering in explaining that a radioactive energy is emitting from the space bridge and we’re on standby and can not allow any bots further in to the mine at the time until the workers are through, and then we’ll be called in to surveillance their injuries. That might buy us some time with some.”

“Secondly,” he continued, “Too many of us grouped together is going to give off a suspicious vibe. Blackout himself, or Scorponok and you, could most likely operate the bridge alone. If we require immediate assistance, we can always hail you to come while someone still ensures the bridge is active and protected for us to hurry through if we need to.”

“I still don’t like it,” Novastrike hissed, lowering her ears.

“Nighthawk’s the mech with a plan,” Blackout pointed out. “He’s been spending time staring at this map. I can respect his evaluation. He didn’t get the nickname of jaguar for nothing.”

Slightly confused, the little femme looked from Blackout to Nighthawk.

“I thought that was the name of his ship-”

Knocking Blackout in the shoulder with the back of his servo, the medic spoke loudly over Blackout’s snickering as he went on, “I believe this is our best course of action, and I think we should initiate it tonight.”

The snickering instantly stopped.

“Tonight?” the Decepticon Hound snorted. “What’s the rush, Nighthawk?”

“You’re telling me you’re not eager to leave this Pit anymore?” the medic jeered.

Shaking his helm, the shadowy mech spoke calmly: “Just seems a bit of a nervous rush.”

“Well I am nervous,” hissed the seeker. “You try sitting in that room all day, wandering the halls, bots staring at you and slipping you glances. They’re reporting on me Blackout; constantly keeping watch.”

“We risk the exposure of the data stick as well,” Infiltrator finally spoke up quietly. “Although it is hidden, it’s also Soundwave’s device of manufacture. He would recall exactly whom was aware of these sticks and who they were dispensed to. There were not many, and there is an active bot on this ship was knowingly had one of these.”

Giving a slow nod of his helm, Blackout looked down at Novastrike’s trusting optics. She gave a firm nod of her helm, optics blazing.

“Alright,” he agreed, offering his palms in a pleading motion as he shrugged. “But you had better come packing some serious weapons, Nighthawk. Don’t leave all the offlining to me.”

Scorponok gave a slight hiss in defense of the seeker, lightly jabbing Blackout’s pede with his pronged drills.

Offering a peacefully serene chuckle, Nighthawk flashed his fangs in the most grim smiles as he spoke gently, “I’m still more than capable of taking care of my share of bots, young mech, don’t you forget that for a nanoklik.”

~

Novastrike sat on the edge of the berth as she watched Blackout move about the room. Picking up the few tools things they had, the giant mech subspaced them in various compartments of his frame. It was like having what those humans referred to as cargo pants? Was that the term? She couldn’t remember exactly; the very idea of looking into the species on this ship seemed highly inappropriate and frowned upon.

Apparently humans were considered too stupid and ugly to be viewed or expressed in any other term than being stupid and ugly.

Behind him, Scorponok would scurry along on the floor to pick up the junk Blackout dropped to the floor carelessly. It brought a smile to Nova’s face to watch as he dumped the items down a chute that would lead to the small furnace on the ship to be melted down.

“Blackout, dear, could you sit and relax for just a moment?” she whispered. “You’ve double-checked the same cupboards at least a dozen times now.”

“I just don’t want to leave any of our supplies around,” he muttered, venting.

“You’re hovering. Are you... nervous?”

A stiff laugh escaped Blackout. He smiled at her with a boastful expression. It deflated somewhat as she placed her servos to her hips and raised an optic ridge.

“Only of throwing us into another mess,” he finally admitted uncomfortably.

“A mess?” she stated while looking to his haunted faceplate. “Geez- Blackout, dear, us coming here isn’t any fault of your own-”

“If it’s not my fault, than it is my own damnation come for me. Why else would we end up right in the servos of the mech I’ve spent my entire life following, bowing to, pleasing at every turn?”

“So, you’re blaming karma?”

Scraping his servo against his faceplate, Blackout let out a heavy growling sound in the back of his throat.

Placing a sympathetic smile on her faceplate, Nova tapped the berth beside her. With a relenting grumble, the big mech stalked over and sat down to join her.

“You know, Nighthawk and you are a lot alike,” she murmured, standing up so that she could lean into his side. “You both like to shoulder responsibility and blame, you both enjoy beating yourselves up, and you both are have some of the most burdened sparks I’ve ever met.”

Growling quietly, the ebony mech muttered as he looked away, “We’re hardly alike.”

“Yes, you are,” Nova assured him, caressing his armor with feather-light touches across his side and chassis. “Maybe stop searching for a reason to hate yourself, and start looking for the reason to love yourself.”

“You and your mercy and compassion,” Blackout growled quietly, reaching over to pick her up.

Squeaking, the small femme looked down the span of her significant others armor. The panels reflected such little light; dulled once. Even sitting the floor looked so far away from this height. She moved her optics to look at Blackout’s as he held her at optic level, curling his servos around her slightly.

“Must you be so loving and wise?” he taunted lightly with a smile.

“It’s just an obvious observation,” she disagreed with a small shake of her helm. “Maybe you should speak to Nighthawk some time about how he’s feeling? You know you two could probably do a little bonding-”

“Ugh, no thank you.”

“You’re the worst. Give him a chance. Look how well you two can get along when working for the same goal.”

“Our spitting and griping is getting along well to you hmm?” he questioned softly, grinning.

“Hush,” she scolded, reaching out to touch his cheek with her servo. “I just want you to be happy. You should love yourself, as much as I love you.”

“I’d say I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got here in this room with me,” he stated, turning his optics down to Scorponok as the bug chirped and then up to her.

Giggling softly, Novastrike leaned to press her lips against his mouth lightly.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Mmm?” Blackout grunted in the back of his throat, pressing a kiss against the top of her helm.

“Can you promise me that you two aren’t going to go at it once we arrive on Cybertron?”

“I hadn’t offlined him thus far. I think I can agree to those terms.”

“Then maybe you can try opening up a little more when we get back home?” she offered.

“To him?” Blackout scoffed, pressing his forehead against her lightly. “I doubt that.”

“We’re going to need all the help we can get if Cybertron is still in disarray,” she pointed out, stroking his cheek gently.

“That doesn’t mean he needs to know my sappy feelings, Novastrike,” he reminded her with a quiet, rumbling laugh. “I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

“No, you need a friend.”

“What do you call Scorponok and you, hmm?”

“I think it’d be good for you both,” she pouted, pressing a kiss to his forehead with an expressive ‘mwah’.

Grunting, the large mech lowered her from his faceplate with a vent. Gingerly he pressed her to his chassis, hugging her against his thick armor.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he admitted quietly. “I’d rather focus on the task at servo, for the time being.

“Just looking out for your well-being, darling,” Nova replied, innocently snuggling against his chassis as she dared to look up at him with her wide-eyes of wonder.

Letting out yet another vent from his systems, Blackout swiftly glanced away from her with a pout. A soft laugh escaped her as he glanced back, grinning from her intoxicating joy and the brimming smile on her faceplate.

Wrapping his servos a fraction tighter against her frame, the dark armored mech squeezed her closer as he hummed. The sound only matched by that of her own purr as she nuzzled securely into his own armor with a sigh. Very soon, they’d be free of this oppressive place, and everything would be fine again.

[figment-of-reality]

Oh Great Library Cryptid @radioactivepeasant, I’d like to thank you for your stories and au’s. Your Transformers works are some of my favorites in the fandom. Speaking of transformers, this prompt of yours spawned a small plot bunny that proceeded to dig up a one shot, and if its ok, I decided to post it here before it could fall into a trademarked neverending re-write cycle. Sorry if the formating is a bit wonky.

     “Hey OP, got a sec?”

     Optimus looked away from the map he had been studying to the little pretender sparkling standing by his right hand on the metal tabletop. At some point he really needed to figure out how she kept getting up to such high places on her own, but the thought was pushed away for the moment, “I can spare a few. What’s on your mind Sari?”

          “Bumblebee told me you guys used to be different colors.”      “He did, did he,” Optimus asked with a raised browplate.      “Yeah…was he not supposed to?”      “No, nothing like that. What of it?”      

     The pale yellow sparkling scuffed a foot across the table top before blinking up with bright blue optics, “Could I possibly, maybe, see what you guys looked like before? Please?”

     He almost didn’t do it. Thinking about the time before was not something he liked doing, mainly because he knew it was a time himself and his team could never go back to. And yet, those wide innocent optics were impossible to say no to. Yeah, just wait until she and Bumblebee flood the lower decks again, or blow a hole in the hull. See how innocent she is then. Pushing that nagging yet truthful thought aside, Optimus switched off the holographic map, and in its place a series of familiar forms flickered to life.

     “Whoa,” Sari trotted over to the nearest hologram, showing Bumblebee in his old yellow and black paintjob, “now this looks like a mech named Bumblebee. Much better than dark blue and orange. Oh, just don’t tell him I said that.” She continued a circuit around the other holograms, “So, Bulkhead used to be green? Weird, grey and purple just seem to fit him somehow. But Prowls old paint job definitely looks better, I mean why go from that to plain old black and white? And hey, red white and blue? Very patriotic Boss Bot!”

     “Glad you approve,” he said, smiling at her enthusiasm.      “How come you don’t have one for Ratchet?”      “The Decepticons didn’t take Ratchet when they invaded our ship. As far as I’m aware, he’s had the same paintjob since before I was sparked.”      “Oh, right. Makes sense.”      

     Silence trailed on a bit after that, Sari looking back at the holograms with a look that Optimus had seen many times before; the look of one that wanted to ask more but didn’t know if they should. With an almost inaudible sigh, Optimus asked, “Sari, is there something else you want to know?”      “Just one,” she turned her optics back to his with an air of apprehension, “you guys liked your old paintjobs, didn’t you?”      “I can’t speak for the others, but I did. They were good colors.”      “Then why haven’t you repainted them? You’re not with the Con’s anymore. No one’s making you keep these colors. Why not change back? Our last few missions against them went really good, I’m sure we could afford a few buckets of paint.”

     Optimus felt his smile drop as he gazed down at his purple, grey and green armor, wondering how much he should tell the sparkling. He wouldn’t lie, couldn’t lie (he had done enough of that as Megatrons “protégé”) but the truth was…complicated.

     Most days, Optimus wished the Decepticon Pirates had never found their ship and taken the All-Spark. Never captured them and forced them under their wing, and definitely never forced different colors on them. The memory of the freshly painted Prowl attacking the con assigned as his “guardian” in a rare display of rage still flashed through his processor every time he thought about it. They hadn’t been branded, thank Primus, but the threat of it had constantly loomed over them. After that came the raids they were dragged on, pushed front and center on Megatrons orders so any security recordings would get a nice clear look at them. Optimus knew his home world’s policies on fraternizing with pirates; there would be no warm welcome for any of them upon their return. Add to all that the business of Black Arachnia…well, needless to say, Optimus could never be thankful enough to Ratchet for coming back for them.

     But then there were the hours after each successful raid. The Decepticons would celebrate by gorging on the spoils, and Megatron would take him to a distant observation deck, where the only noise they could hear of the revelry were the high notes of an off-key song and the occasional blaster shot. The two of them would drink their oil in the relative quiet, and Megatron would berate him for how little he always ended up drinking. The large, grey Con would down at least four cubes in one sitting, and then he would tell his stories. Tales of battles he had been in, of victories he had won, and even of some failures that could still light a spark of anger in those old, red optics. Details were precise and descriptions vivid, as though the distant memories were fresh, and Optimus found himself enthralled each time. All the grainy, half-corroded video files of the Great War of old paled in comparison to Megatrons first-hand accounts. Even while the Back of Optimus’ processor kept wanting to tune out the Decepticon captain on sheer principle, he couldn’t refuse the look at history that was being offered him for reasons untold. And as Megatron continued talking and drinking long into the night cycles, Optimus took note of the charisma and emotion coming from the normally stoic leader and understood how he had convinced so many to follow him. A grudging respect for the old mech and all he had seen lodged itself in Optimus spark, and no amount of witnessed crimes and imprisonment could completely knock it loose.

     Those night cycles were a secret Optimus kept long after their rescue. Even if the others knew, he would admit to no nostalgia for the stories of war. And yet, each time he considered repainting his armor, those memories would come rushing back, and he would suddenly remember something more pressing that needed to be done. I can do that later, was the often repeated phrase.

     “Boss Bot? You still there?”      Snapping out of his thoughts, Optimus looked back down at Sari, the sparkling wearing a look of worried irritation. He forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his optics, “Yeah, I am. Sorry about that.”

     “What was that all about? You completely spaced out.”      “Just thinking over your question.”      “Okay…” she trailed off, not looking convinced but continuing anyway, “So, repaint. Why haven’t you done it yet?”

     Letting out a small sigh, Optimus picked out the simplest truth of the matter and answered, “I guess I just haven’t gotten round to it yet.”

[hgfstreamchats]

Jason Goes to Hell

Come on Kast... Kast, just once. Just. Once. Hello! Remember when we used livestream and the only thing we had to worry about were the many, many problems inherent in livestream? Hello, night human! I remember it fondly. Those were the days. I still have no audio. Hmmm... is there--yeah, me neither Still no audio? Nope. Still none Oh afts. Mmmmaybe you have something muted in kast itself? I cannot hear the terrible dance. Drat. It's very possible. It went through some kind of hideous update. Great. Glorious. Hmmmm. Nothing? Nothing Nothing. I hear it! there it is! GLORIOUS!

And it just cut out And it's back There. There we are. What was the problem? Wonderful! Emulator nonsense, the usual. Ahhh Look at that pumpkin man go. He's certainly got the music in him. What precisely is this? ohhhhh jeez I'm also wondering Either an underrated found footage film or pure garbage. We're watching now so that if it's filth, we still have time to end the month on a high note. I see... "remember that name" Once again, I already care nothing for these characters! This filming format is so obnoxious. I'm sure there's a totally normal reason he's setting up a camera in his RV like that Whichever one did that is now Smokescreen. Somehow I guess it didn't occur to me that haunted houses would run for more than one day The general idea of the thing sounds fun. I'd do it if I were human or capable of fitting into human buildings. There you go! Just make a found footage film starring me! Just stick your head in, it'll be fine "I'm here, you all figure out the rest." There are outdoor haunts. Or haunted corn mazes. You could possibly attend one of those. Yeah!  Just drive around in it As I suspect a maze loses some of its charm when you can just step over the walls Don't tempt me. I'll do it and the Autobot pets will whine to the Autobots. I would tempt you just to get the pets to whine about it. I guess you could also see if someone from one of those universes where they can project holoforms further, is willing to share If I do, I demand a copy of the report so I can frame it. This is how to get kicked off a property. ... yikes I hate them all immensely. So, do you think that these terrible people will die, or just annoy us for an hour and a half? So do they die, or what Ugh. Even the Blair Witch humans weren't this obnoxious. These wretches would fit in with the pretentious Book of Shadow humans. Shut up! ?? Them, not either of you. I feel like even if your conceit is "found footage", you can damn well edit it to only the interesting bits But if we don't see the worthless chaff, then how will we know it's "art"? If they don't stop talking, ever, how else can we be expected to care whether they live or die? And you get that same "wait, why were they even filming this in the first place" feeling At this point, I'm solidly on Team Clown. Ah. So they are being stalked by the actors from the first haunt they pissed off. So spooky. I think so? Why did they... let them in For maximum spooky. "okay this isn't so much 'scary' as 'awkward'" What exactly did they do at the first haunt?  I, uh, may have gotten up for a minute to get the kettle If anyone has suggestions for real horror movies that would go down nicely after this, do feel free to throw them out, because we're not touching the sequel with a 40 foot pole. And apparently missed Vital Plot Info (tm) They climbed an unattended ladder, and screeched at the waiting line crowd. Ohhhh. Yeah, not cool Do you want a real good horror movie, or a real silly horror movie? Either, any! Well, there is always Jason Goes to Hell. Or Texas Chainsaw 3D OH! Yes! Either is infinitely more fun than this. Jason Goes to Hell it is! OH WHAT A SHAME IT'S THE END AND THEY'RE DYING. HOWEVER DID THIS HAPPEN. WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED Are they actually dying? Hopefully? BUT THEY'VE LOST NONE OF THEIR USUAL CHARM, CLEARLY. Shaun! Damn it, don't make me laugh when I'm about to drink something Oh no! He got vaguely attacked in the dark. And she got red kool-aide on her sweater. She'll never get those stains out! The true tragedy. The frag would this be filmed? Uh oh, is it time for snakes Why does that one get cushions and kool aide doesn't? ...who's filming that She got a snack instead. I don't despise kool aide like I do beard-face. By all means, none of you try to push out while the dirt is pile on soft and shallow. *piled Oh, shut up. Thank you. I think that was as much of that as we needed to see They didn't have the decency to *die* entertaining. This should be much more entertaining. People die in ridiculous ways. Do you know what irritates me most of all? It had such a compelling title. That's what lured me in. I assumed nothing with a title that good could possibly be bad. If it had been a real documentary on the haunted house industry, then I think it would have been good. It would have been! Yeah, that could have been interesting! This is already more interesting. What a necessary scene, I'm sure It is a horror movie. Jason looks...bloated. He's a bit worse for wear. Comes of being in the lake all that time Oh hey So she was the bait Was that an air strike And then he explodes. That should do it. Graphic design is their passion. It just does this the rest of the movie. The longest mid-credit roll of them all. Ha. Just keep poking it. What I'm getting is that there were just a whole bunch of people who wanted prominence in the credits, and sacrifices had to be made The scale numbers changing is a nice touch Uh Ew ...Huh. I feel bad for that guy This is the Friday movie that was made just after New Line purchased the rights. They... did not know how to make a proper Jason movie. Oh boy o oh Hi! is this a youtube poop Hey! It's Jason Goes To Hell Smokescreen! Woojit! What is this? You barely missed the credits! Oooh! I did it! I came just in time! What you missed: a military op killed Jason, then when the coroner was disecting him, his heart started beating and he possessed the coroner. That's just how it is sometimes! Apparently! Oooh, this is like a scraplet horror fantasy novel I read like, vorns ago It is? Like, the body snatching? Oh! ... are they smoking in the cafe??? is that allowed? Used to be. does everyone do that or is he just doing it because Apparently they're all just...like this? That's how it is. ... Can I smoke in here? I would prefer you did not. Oh, good, important information to be imparted later!  I'm sure everyone will survive until then Since when do you smoke, Smokescreen? Well, one or two times, Wheeljack gave me something and it wasn't bad! "haha just a joke, only like eighty people have died there" This certainly is how people talk. Uh. Ugh. I mean, I wouldn't want to be in the tent after whatever slag they're getting int-oh "I'll just sleep outside and listen." Like any good friend on an awkward camping trip. Of course. Nothing says "third wheel" like being the one who gets to sleep OUTSIDE the tent, half-naked You'd think they might have brought an extra tent. Sometimes, you just want to frag a tree .....*What?* Not everyone has your love of plant life, Smokescreen. What? NO I didn't mean it like that! Like... Some humans really are tree huggers? Nothing wrong with tree-fraggin! . . . . There was a human in the last film that frags pumpkins. We thought of you. Woojit, I'm gonna find an owl movie just for you. It won't be anywhere near as painful as said last movie. Unless it is a found footage owl movie. "nah, we don't need a condom, we're not surviving the movie anyway" w Primus, was the last movie THAT bad? It was wretched. Just intolerable. From what we saw, it seemed to be about 10 minutes of plot drawn out into an hour and a half of movie With zero (0) likeable characters I have to admit, this wasn't really what I was expecting This movie's just all over the place. Oh dear. It's the worst Friday movie. But still entertaining in a terrible way. No, I don't know why this is happening. That is definitely how reflections work. Magic! Wait, this is a friday movie? Yes. Jason Goes to Hell, part 9. Oh, I thought all Jasons were just like that. ... I saw a Jason movie with a bot not that long ago, huh! So... did he shave him out of like... vanity?  he didn't want a moustache? christ The classic 'A body swapped Jason killed that lady' misunderstanding. Agent Scully! Man, how many people do you think were like "jason swapped bodies with me :(" in court ..... is jason the baby No? Oh so that's the asshole bounty hunter or whatever Now I want, no, need Jason to be the baby. I know, right? With a tiny, baby sized knife and hockey mask? What the hell is wrong with this guy Who doesn't enjoy breaking fingers to pay off the exposition dump? Man, I'm pretty sure I would've gotten kicked out the autobots and broken everyone's fingers if I broke someone's fingers everytime I started expositioning It sounds like a Soundwave method more than anything. Yep. Its name is Jason. I hope he didn't just taste that Facebook Oh good, the Necronomicon See, because it had a face in the cover-- How did he manage to steal a body? what the fuck Hopefully HE'LL--yep, guess so! Bleh Well, that takes care  of that. She's crying because her shower stream is so weak. Kidnap her. Women love that. I feel like maybe he could have accomplished more by calling her from jail or something Instead of all these shenanigans oh UGH UGH. UGH. Are you not entertained? Uh oh Hah! ...Did that do it?  Did the right person kill him? Nope. Ah Jason was more interesting when he only cared about his mother and his lake. I did mention this was worst Friday movie. ...I'm not sure that WAS him I mean, Jason hasn't actually... talked, so far It was a terrible worm thing, this whole time. I didn't think he could downgrade from the spaghetti-gut rotting corpse but here we are. Ohhhh shit There he is! I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that Oh what that pit sure came in handy Not the puppet hands! And there you have it. What a twist, kind of! Well! Still better nonsense than the last one. A marked improvement. And to think I thought this movie was going to be about him going to hell and, I don't know, stabbing demons or something. You're not the only one. I want a toyota beef! That would have been more fun, and that's not allowed. Hehehe. TWO things are wrong in the picture! ... isn't the kid pushing floating The boy is floating! What What. ... Does primus does primus have a good question doesn't he hang out on tumblr?  you could ask him next time you see him Oh yes, that sounds like a good idea. That won't go wrong, I'm sure. Technically I didn't say it was a good idea It's an awesome idea! Primus adores me Then go right ahead, Smokescreen. You got it! It'll at least go better than calling Unicron a dilf ...You called Unicron a what a dilf? Why did you do that? To bug him? Oh, well then. One day that may come back to literally bite you in the aft. Well, that's all I've got! Well, once again, thanks for the stream! woojit woojit woojit I've got a horror movie for us for sometime! Thank you for that stream salvaging suggestion, Starscream. Oh, what? *listening face* The Brave Little Toaster? Yes, thanks! You know the sene It was the least I could offer. This was much better than the other thing Absolutely not. I'm not that sadistic. Oh. ... Am I that sadistic Oh my It's, uh, it's a pretty gruesome movie in some ways I'm sure nobody thinks you're sadistic, Smokescreen I think he tries. Oh, he already left.  Unless that's Kast being weird again. The Brave Little Toaster is the sadistic one. Well, goodnight! Goodnight, All. Good night, everyone!

[cybertronianlovenest]

The bitch named Karma: Section 11

Jazz arched up higher as my spike hit the top of his valve. It was a tight fit and he needed plenty of coaxing but it was worth it to see him so lost. "Primus Prowl, ah don't see how anything like this could feel bad! My whole frame feels like it's on fire with the best feeling I've ever felt!" A smirk curled my lips and I pecked a kiss to his that he deepened instantly. "And we have not even really began. Believe it or not, this can cause far worse pain than pleasure. I hope you never find that out first hand Jazz, I want this to stay good for you. Once it's bad one time, you never look at it the same." I really wished I could shake that, before this whole plan had been hatched Jazz had spent sometime coaxing me through a bad one. It'd been worse than what he did this time, it took me vorns to allow him to even look at my valve, and much longer than that to touch. Now all that pain and fear came rushing back and focused itself on him. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to convince myself to let him top me again. "Please move, Prowl! Yer driving meh crazy!" His gruff voice drug me from my thoughts, back to the present where my partner was rocking and grinding down on my spike. My hips bucked forward and he keened. "Sorry, I got lost in thought. You'll be very well taken care of by the time I'm done with you." Jazz POV: I groaned as I came online once more feeling really light helmed and dizzy. Everything seemed really hard to do and something was moving around inside me. "Lay down Jazz. Your systems are going to take a while to catch up. Enjoy these few breems. It'll be the only time you'll get in the next few deca-cycles your frame isn't demanding an overload." That was Prowl. Fingers ran over my back as I turned my helm to look at him. "What happened?... Feel really weird..." "Your protocols came online and I assisted you. You're going to need fuel and try not to move around too much for a few moments. I just applied a numbing cream to your valve so you don't have the after effects. Lay still while I get your fuel." He pushed me down gently into the bed as I tried to piece together what the hell happened..... My helm swam as Prowl's lips found mine once more as thick spurts of charged fluid snapped at the inside of my valve. For the life of me I couldn't figure out how I could have hurt him if he was making me feel this good. My fingers clung into his back as he groaned into my audio. A strangled growl escaped as I tumbled over the edge of another release. "Frag! Ah! Prowl!" Lips traced hot kisses over my neck and cheeks as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, letting lose all the pent up fluid. "Not ready to stop! Please!" "After you cool down and fuel. Your frame is the verge of over heating and your valve needs a break. You'll need a few groons for your self repairs to strengthen your valve again. You don't want it to rip, trust me. Come on, I'll take you to the lake for a while, you can run off some of that charge." The door opened suddenly and I looked up to see my carrier as I stood from the bed. "I will accompany you down, to ensure nothing happens." Prowl's door twitched some. "I don't foresee any issues, thank you though. I believe that after nearly losing me Jazz understands that he should not continue after being told to stop." I cringed as they both looked at me. "Yeah... Prowl won't even let meh catch a glimpse of his valve now..." "And I do not blame him. You very nearly offlined him and what you did caused excruciating pain. His valve was scraped raw, torn, and sliced by sharp pieces of your armor. His frame was so over heated his protoform was being scorched and he screamed so loudly for you to stop he glitched out his vocalizer. That was tourchor and in his place I wouldn't ever allow you close again. Mistake or not, what you did caused unimaginable pain. Prowl, are you certain that you won't need me there?" He nodded his helm. "Yes, I had Soundwave place an over ride on my valve cover that only he and the twins have the codes to after finding out Jazz's protocols came online. My optics brightened, jerking to Prowl. "Ya locked up yer valve just so ah couldn't get into it?!" "Yes, I told you Jazz, I don't intend to feel that pain again. If you want a valve then you look elsewhere." I swallowed hard as his optics hardened. I hated that look, it was been etched into mind from before and it meant he was closing me out. If I didn't nip this now he was going to go right back to.- My mouth fell open suddenly as a horrible waves of memories invaded my mind. They were Prowl's, and they were worse than what I had done to him. 3 mechs had caught him and used him for over 5 groons. It had nearly offlined him and his frame had been torn so badly his whole interface unit had needed replaced. It had taken me 500 vorns to convince him to let me in and I'd just fucked up everything. Another thick swallow parted my throat before tears trickled down my face. I hated acting so weak but I couldn't help it. He'd been through so much and I'd done the one thing I swore to him I never would. He was closing me out for it and I couldn't blame him a bit. "Ah Prowler..." All my old memories came rushing back in a dizzying wave along with no small amount of self loathing for the pain I'd inflicted. The hardness in his optics cracked some, before he turned away from me. "Please leave Sir..." "Prowl you don't-" "Go." My carrier gave me look before turning and leaving the room. I was left standing there trying to figure out how I could have left things get this far. "Come here Jazz." A knot tightened in my chest as my peds shuffled forward. "If its that important to you then I don't care what you do. I got to used to the way things used to be. When I was more important to you than my valve was." His hand slipped down and he grabbed the cover, nearly ripping it off before I caught him. "Don't! Please Prowl just stop and listen to meh!" His fingers were still curled tightly into the panel as I caught him. "I am giving you what you want." "Thats not what ah want! Stop being a fragging glitch!" There was no emotion at all behind his optics and I hated it. "You were fine until I made the fact my valve was out of your reach known." "Yeah because ah didn't realize ya were that fragging scared ya tried to lock meh out! Ahm not upset ah can't have yer valve! Ahm upset because ah know yer that scared of letting meh have it! Ahm upset because ah know how much ah hurt ya! Ahm upset because ah remember what those other mechs did! Ah can't stand the thought that ah hurt ya just like they did and made ya trust meh so little! Frag Prowl! Ah love ya more than ah've ever loved anyone and ah need ya to trust meh!" He just looked at me with those blank optics I hated so much for several long kliks before finally letting me pull his hand away from his panel. "You remember?..." My helm nodded slowly and I pushed myself higher into his arms, taking comfort in the fact that he pulled me closer. "Remember everything... Ah don't want yer valve, ah want yer trust. Ahm gonna get it back, ah don't care if it takes meh five hundred THOUSAND vorns! By the way, if ah really wanted in there, how long do ya think ya could keep meh out?" I smirked but instead of lightning the mood it sparked a flicker of fear in his optics. I blew out a shuddering vent and buried my face in his neck. "Ahm so sorry Prowl... Ah'll go now." His arms tightened long before I got one ped on the floor and his optics locked with mine. "Don't leave me alone...? That's when I hurt myself..." My optics brightened as I looked at him. This was the first time he'd ask for help. He used to get angry when I caught him and tried to get him to stop. I knew if I denied him now he'd never ask for help again. "OK Prowler. Ah'll always stay right here whenever ya need meh. We'll get through this together." He nodded his helm and I finally saw some emotion peek through that blank mask he wore. "Thank you. I'm sorry Jazz. It is hard to get through the past memories of what happened..." He looked so distraught and I'd give anything to help him. "Prowl... Spark merge with meh. It'll be good for ya after getting out of the medbay and sharing yer feelings will take a huge weight off yer chest. Ah know very well ya wouldn't open up to anyone else." For a second he just looked at me before slowly opening his spark so I could mesh them together. *Hey meh love... Been far too long since ah've felt ya.* He pushed along agreement as he buried himself just as far into my spark as he could get. The urge to hurt himself was as strong as I'd ever felt it and it went a long way in calming my mind to know he was turning to me for help. *Ah got ya, not gone anywhere until ya feel better. Ahm just glad ya finally trust meh enough to let meh help. Ah love ya so much, don't ever doubt that.* He nodded rapidly and I could already feel his frame starting to heat up. His valve cover was really hot against my leg but I wasn't going to make the first move. If he wanted that he'd have to tell me and I pushed that along. Under me, Prowl seemed to struggle with himself for a few moments. *You really remember? Remember everything?* I sighed and nodded my helm, the unspoken, everything, he was talking about was all I could think about right now. "Ah remember everything ah forgot about interfacing, Prowl. Not gonna fuck up again." Slowly his helm nodded as he swallowed thickly. *I'm still scared Jazz... Even though I know that only happened because you didn't know how to interface...* Our optics meet mine and a single tear ran down his cheek that I cleared away with a kiss. "Yer choice. Ah never cared more about yer valve than ya, don't forget it." That got a light smile that was more fear than anything. "I want my last experience with you to be a good one, I don't want to keep thinking about the pain." I smiled and sank into his system, the lock was easy enough to find and I had it erased in just a few seconds. The cover slid to the side and he flinched away like the first time I touched him. 'Looks like he'll need lots of coaxing.'... Prowl POV: My vents hitched painfully as Jazz's fingers brushed over my valve and he caught me in a kiss. About now I wished he still had his mechapire coding to calm me down. "Shh babe. Gonna be just fine." He ran the backs of his fingers down my face as two on the other hand slipped into me. As much as I tried to remember that Jazz would never hurt me now that he remembered what he was doing I was still near panic. "Would ya like to stop Prowl?" My helm shook side to side. "If I back out now it could be well be a few THOUSAND vorns until you get in me." He smiled softly and kissed me. "So be it love. Besides, ahm sure ah could make it boring enough ya'd be begging meh to frag ya." An optic ridge arched up, giving him a look. "And just how do you plan to do that?" He smirked. "Well, ah'd just lay there until interfacing got so boring ya let meh in just to make meh move." I snorted. "I don't think you'd be able." "Prowl, ah nearly starved mehself to deactivation just to see ya. Ya don't think ah could play dead through a few interfaces? Ah'd just turn down meh sensor net to all but mute." My optics narrowed at him. "You're a cheater." "Alls fair in love and war. Now, ya wanna do this the easy way? Or ya wanna miss out on seeing meh lose meh charge while ya pound into meh until ya pack meh valve so full of yer fluid it gushes down meh legs?" That thought alone had my frame heating up. I loved being buried to the hilt inside him, he always gave the best responses when I was top. "As soon as this is settled I'm cuffing YOU to the bed." His engine growled and he gave a sharp twist of his fingers, scraping over a patch of nodes that he was so good at finding. It was enough to drag a sharp cry from me that made Jazz chuckle. "Love to hear ya made such sweet sounds. Let's see if ah can overload ya before ah ever get meh spike inside ya." Oh there was no doubt in my mind he could. Jazz was far too good at that game before. I just hoped he was as good now. His fingers slipped from my valve and pushed the panel closed. "Primus what are you doing Jazz?!" He was going to drive me crazy. "Well, ya know the rules. Would be cheating if ah kept playing with yer valve. An ah'd hate to think ah might have lost meh touch..." A hand slid up my frame and tugged our hips flush together as he smirked. My vents caught as daft fingers traced over my legs ever so gently. "Yer gonna like this." "You're going to tease me until I'm not even able to think clearly aren't you!?"

[the-odd-job]

Building Dreams chapter 1 - Origins

Warnings: Chose Not to Use Rating: Mature Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Unnamed Characters, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alien Culture, Dubcon, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 4413

Okay apparently I’m writing this well before I should. The thing I posted previously is the second chapter of this, so here’s the actual chapter one. 

They snuck inside, hoping the actual owner of the apartment was too deep in a high grade induced stupor to notice their arrival—or their departure once they’d done what they came here for.

It was nothing illegal, really. This wasn’t officially their place of residence anymore—their room in the Pits was—but it was owned by their commissioner. That legal binding hadn’t been broken yet.

But would be soon, hopefully. There was nothing about this place or this mech they wanted any ties to. They were nearing the one event that inevitably led to a mech’s legal independence, anyway. It was just a matter of time before the mech in the living room of the tiny apartment could lay no claim on them.

Not that he particularly had at any point of their lives.

“–Lord Megatron of Kaon was once again caught in a heated debate with Optimus Prime of Iacon at the publicized Council meeting. We’ve all heard the arguments on both sides a million times, haven’t we?” the entertainment screen droned on, the channel turned to some manner of talk show. What a waste of time.

But that was all their commissioner did or had ever done, wasted his time away. The chair he was currently sitting in had its back turned to the open door into the hallway, and the brothers used that as an advantage to the best of their ability. They weren’t built for stealth and silence, who here was, but with the volume of the show turned up so high, it should mask the sounds they made pretty well.

Like always.

“Carriers this and carriers that—as you’re all well aware of, Optimus Prime is still campaigning for the demolition of the Housing system. What should be established in its stead? Equality for all? How does that help our species? No, he doesn’t have a replacement plan! As always, Lord Megatron called him out on this, and in a surprise move, Lord Starscream of Vos actually backed him up. Imagine that, the two of them united in something! For a mated pair they sure argue a lot—and if that’s in public, how much worse is it in private?” Laughter from the screen, both from the host and the audience present in the studio. Sideswipe huffed to himself, only to get glared at by Sunstreaker. Yeah yeah, keep quiet. Get the last of their things from their old room and beat it the pit out of here before their commissioner ever got any wiser they’d even visited.

It was kind of funny, though, how easily you could tell you were in Kaon just based on the kind of entertainment that was aired. It wasn’t that there was never anything critical of Megatron, but in this one thing most of Kaon seemed to agree with their leader, and thought the Prime was nothing but a bumbling dumbling. 

Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker by extension? Or whoever was the extension of who or if it was just the In-Between, anyway, they stayed out of politics. That was a thing that only brought more stress on you when you needed to argue with anyone who had differing opinions to your own. So tiresome, no thanks on that.

Although he could kinda agree the Prime was a little dumb. At least the things he said were dumb. And the whole scandal with his so-called mate… Yeah, there was something just wrong with that mech. What the pit even drove him to these things?

Alright, end of opinions, right there, or else he’d find himself a political activist or something. Dumb Prime, Megatron calling him out on it, the end. 

What mattered more than the artificially created problems Cybertron had—really, why do anything about a good thing that worked already?—was them and their little life. Maybe it didn’t matter to anyone else, but that was what life was about. Taking care of yourself, standing up for yourself, making it out there in the cold, cruel world… Or something like that.

He liked to think they’d gotten pretty far already, as Sunstreaker opened the squeaky door to their old room as quietly as he could. Once it was parted enough that they could fit through, they stopped to listen—but there were still just the sounds of the show, nothing from the third occupant of the place. “So they’re there, both trying to sway the Council, Optimus jabbering on about ‘freedom is the right of all sentient beings’ or something like that—did you stay awake listening to him? I sure didn’t. And Megatron comes in and points out the obvious: we need the breeders! Where are you going to get a newspark from otherwise? Out of thin air? By miracle of Primus? ‘Hey, big guy downstairs, would you be so kind as to send me a newspark, I really need one’? Not happening, is that?”

Alright, so what had they still left behind? There was Sunstreaker’s old art pads and art books on equally old datapads. They were carefully picked up and subspaced while Sideswipe quietly opened the subspace containers embedded in the walls and made sure nothing was going to get left behind. Some of the stuff they were taking and had taken with them was nothing but junk that they threw out to the nearest trash chute, but dammit their commissioner wasn’t about to get any of it, junk or not. 

It was the principle of things. These were things they’d acquired on their own, with their credits or their wiliness. They belonged to them and no one else. 

Unless someone picked them up from the junk piles on the lower decks, but if a mech was crazy enough to wade through that mess, then pits, they had deserved whatever they found.

But really, most of these things just weren’t worth anything.

Once he’d checked through all of their containers and Sunstreaker had looted their secret stashes—because sometimes that was the only way to keep more valuable things from addicts —they slipped from the room as carefully as they’d come in.

Or thought they did. In the gloom of the hallway, there were two red optics staring at them. Sunstreaker froze in place the same Sideswipe did.

“Are you leaving?” their commissioner asked quietly, voice a little staticky as it always was with this mech.

Ugh. Why couldn’t they have just managed to come and go unnoticed?

“Pit yeah,” Sunstreaker growled at him.

It was impossible to tell if their commissioner was sad or not, his field was always just a fragging mess and nothing else. “To the Pits?”

But they knew this thing. He didn’t like the Pits overmuch, and he definitely didn’t like that it was where the brothers had found a livelihood and a home.

Sideswipe could’ve sworn most of it was just seeing them succeed in something, even if only in a limited capacity. Getting rich with Pit fighting… Yeah, not happening.

But making ends meet through winning matches? Doable, if you were good enough. 

And they were.

And they didn’t waste every credit they earned.

It was an argument they’d had a million times before. Sunstreaker didn’t do more than rev his engine in warning. And it was a warning. They’d taught themselves how to fight through blood and dents and more blood and dents. They knew what they were doing by this point, at least for mecha their age. They were better than most of their peers, even if they weren’t about to get to champion levels anytime soon.

Most fights weren’t fair to begin with, but it would be especially unfair against a mech who could barely stay on two pedes. One punch and he’d be down—and anyone who knew Sunstreaker knew he was perfectly willing to throw that punch. 

Then again their sole remaining commissioner didn’t exactly know them, so maybe he thought there was some sort of affection or respect that would keep them from decking him.

There wasn’t.

“Out of the way,” Sunstreaker ordered once their stalemate had gone on long enough. “We’re fragging leaving.” And not coming back.

“You’re not yet mentored.” Mentored, legally independent, same thing.

But bad wording. “You’ve never done a damn thing to mentor us,” Sunstreaker hissed, taking one step forward. A clear threat. “Or did you totally miss the bit where we had to raise ourselves because you were too busy wallowing in your misery?”

“I stayed,” their commissioner argued with a shaking voice, although Sideswipe couldn’t have told what made it shake. Emotion or high grade?

“All the good that did!” Sunstreaker argued right back, his voice raising like it often did when they were caught in situations like these. It was doubtful the neighbors would even bother to see what the ruckus was about, anymore.

And there was a lot of bitter resentment there—and this might be their last chance to air any of it. They sure as pit weren’t planning on ever seeing the face of the damn mech again.

So Sunstreaker chose to do just that. “We had to practically live on the streets anyway, because you sure as pit weren’t looking after us! It’s a fragging miracle we didn’t need to whore ourselves out just to get enough fuel to get by, and what did you do? Sat here all day every day, on your fragging aft, trying to drink your problems away? What’s even so sad about your life, the slagging fact you were stuck with us? You commissioned us!” his brother alternatively growled and straight up yelled.

Was it a fair rant? Not really. 

Was it well earned despite that? Sure was, if you asked Sideswipe. He got it, it was tough to lose one of your best buddies that you had planned to mentor a sparkling with, and then have that topped off with your second best buddy just taking up and leaving because none of them apparently knew how to handle any of their issues.

What excuse was that to neglect the life you had paid to create and supposedly committed to mentor into maturity?

Or maybe they were just really slagging selfish and should’ve gone easier on the mech—that had taken credits they’d earned just to spend it on more high grade. Oh, they’d learned real damn fast to hide that slag, or spend it on necessities right away so there was nothing to even steal. What did it matter if they had enough fuel to even stay online, as long as he had more high grade to drown himself in?

Sideswipe didn’t think they were the more selfish ones here, but he might’ve been a little biased. 

Their commissioner was shaking, but it was still impossible to tell why exactly. “I–”

“No,” Sunstreaker cut him off with a violent lash of his arm, his sharpened claws inches away from scratching the fragging drunkard. “I’m not listening to your fragging excuses. Out of the way.”

Damn right.

When their commissioner didn’t move fast enough, Sunstreaker’s arm flashed forward, his servo closing around the mech’s faceplates—claws digging into his helmet. There was a muffled sound of protest, then a scream when Sunstreaker simply closed his servo, crushing and tearing their mentor’s face off, protoform deep.

His vocalizer was still unharmed when Sunstreaker let go. His victim dropped into a graceless heap on the floor like the fragging piece of scrap he was, sobbing, bringing his servos to a face that wasn’t there anymore. There wasn’t blood, only the sparking of severed wires and gouged, sightless remains of optics. Crushed plating, scratches.

Sideswipe made a face, but stepped over the weeping frame on his brother’s heels. This… Was a death sentence. There was no way their commissioner could afford repairs, and it was unlikely there was any spark kind enough around to pay them for him. He’d starve into stasis in his bleak, lonely apartment, and one day someone would come to see why he hadn’t paid his rent, find his frame in stasis, and send it to the scrapyard. No one would bother fixing up a random mech that probably couldn’t even pay back for it.

He’d die as alone as he’d lived. Justice? Or, “That was kinda over the top,” Sideswipe commented once they were back in the hallway.

“He had it coming,” was all Sunstreaker grunted in response, setting their pace towards the exit.

Sideswipe thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. Not like they would get in legal trouble for it either. This was Kaon. It was every mech for themselves under the dark cast by the first deck.

So, whatever.

They made it to the outside of the residential underbelly of a tower that probably rose somewhere into the sky up above, but that here was nothing but an oily base for wretchedness of so many kinds. 

At least they were free of it, now, even if it hadn’t quite happened as Sideswipe had envisioned.

Back to the Pits with them, then, which some would’ve just called a downgrade— but for them it really wasn’t. They had a room just for themselves, fuel, occasional maintenance, and even more occasional chances to hose themselves off instead of just trying to wipe themselves clean. It wasn’t a steady living, but they made it work.

They transformed onto the road and drove through the shadowy streets that no one bothered to light properly. That wasn’t the case everywhere on the lower decks, though, and as they neared their arena, the lights turned brighter and more numerous until they made it to the center of activity surrounding the arena. It was almost as bright as the day of the first deck in this section of the underworld.

Definitely an upgrade.

They drove to the arena’s secondary entrance, transformed back to their bipedal modes, and entered the building. Here there was more to gloom to be found, and more dirt, grime—stains you didn’t even want to know the origin of; dents on the walls, floors, and even the ceiling. Nothing was clean, nothing was in full repair.

But that was the Pits for you. Really, it was just a part of their charm.

The mecha down here didn’t look much better than their surroundings, and they knew they weren’t exactly exceptions. Oh, they tried to take care of their looks, but so did almost every other sorry sap around.

It didn’t work too well for anyone, aside from some of the administration. Those you could recognize when you saw them walking about. Rich bastards—relatively speaking, most of the time. No one down here could compare to the wealth of those who could afford to live in the upper towers.

“A groon until my match,” Sideswipe commented as the reminder popped up on his HUD. “Wasn’t yours one fight after that?”

An affirmative grunt.

“Time to kill. Let’s go watch the matches and make overtly judgmental comments about everyone’s techniques,” Sideswipe grinned, flicking his claws to urge Sunstreaker into following him as he took the turn towards one of the arena gates. Not like they could really go up to the stands, but you could see at least something through the floor level gates, too.

Together they chose a gate that didn’t have more than one other mech observing the fights and went to lean against the thick bars. There were no impressive fights going on this time of the day, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to learn from observing others.

Even if it was just in the way of ‘geez, I’m never doing that myself’. 

“Ugh, the green one’s footwork is garbage,” Sideswipe snickered. The corner of Sunstreaker’s mouth twitched in a near smile.

He’d get the damn mech smiling yet, before his match. That was what he was here for! Be a menace that brightened his twin’s day by being all lovable and slag. He was lovable, wasn’t he?

Sunstreaker was eager to tell him that no, he wasn’t, he was just lucky they were twins or he’d have booked it a long time ago. But, see, Sunstreaker was smiling when he said that, because he couldn’t help himself once Sideswipe found the right buttons to push. It was perfect! And only took him a few seconds, see. Pretty good, if he said so himself.

That still left all the other seconds of the groon to get on each other’s nerves, to the point where they annoyed the third spectator into leaving. You know, instead of each other.

Twins.

“My time!” Sideswipe announced once it was minutes until his match would be called. Still together, they made their way to the right gate, he picked his weapons—twin swords, as he preferred—and entered the arena proper once the gate rose to let him through.

The lights were bright enough to blind, here. Not one drop of energon would go unseen because there wasn’t enough light. Everything they did would be on full display.

Sideswipe grinned, that particular bloodthirsty grin, and nodded at his opponent. The mech was bigger than him, but then almost everyone was. Oh, he wasn’t small in the grand scheme of things, but in Kaon he was. 

Came with not being able to afford big enough upgrades to reach the sizes of most other Kaonites. But that was fine, he made this work too.

He went to prove that much both to the audience and his opponent. He was smaller, but that meant he was faster with less mass to move around, and more agile with his lighter armor doing less to restrict his movements. Play your strengths, make up for your weaknesses, all that. He’d danced this same dance thousands of times before, even if the choreography was never quite the same.

The other mech was brandishing a mace, and if that wasn’t a devastating weapon if it landed proper hits. So, don’t let it land proper hits. Sideswipe could’ve never put the same amount of oomph behind the swings as the bigger mech could, but as they moved, it became obvious enough that there really wasn’t that big a skill difference between them. A good match for the audience, not so much for them. Uneven fights where you had the upper hand were always better for finances.

But that just meant he’d need to work harder to come out on top, and preferably without too severe injuries, too. One thing he did have on his side—the rarity of frames at least a head shorter than everyone else. There was really no getting used to fighting mecha his size when you faced them so rarely. 

Meanwhile, he was intensely familiar with fighting mecha bigger than himself, because basically everyone was that.

It tipped the odds in his favor just enough, this time around. His opponent couldn’t judge his speed right. Sometimes he thought Sideswipe was slower than he really was, other times that he was faster. As many hits as glanced off of Sideswipe’s armor, leaving minor injuries behind, only one hit him in the side in full force.

Hurt like a bitch, that one, and sent him flying off to the side pretty spectacularly. He landed on his pedes though, only briefly made the mistake of instinctively bringing a servo to his side, and was ready to dodge out of the way when his opponent tried to finish things off. Not like he hadn’t landed his fair share of damage, himself. Some were pretty bad, too.

Don’t get cocky. That got you beat down into the arena dirt. He was supposed to be better than that by this point.

The roar and stomp of the crowd thrummed through his lines along with the excitement for a victory he tried to push down before it could distract him—and managed, enough so that when one dodge under the mace’s swing saw him in position to sink one of his swords into the other mech’s chassis, he wasn’t too distracted to see and take the opportunity. He had to get the frag away from there right after because that mace came right back around, but the injury was pretty debilitating by Sideswipe’s judgment. Damaged internal components that were actually important, that sort of thing. 

Don’t fragging dare get cocky.  

Just a little more. He could do this. If nothing else, his opponent would succumb to his injuries with time, even if Sideswipe couldn’t carve some more on him. Playing it safe wasn’t like him, though, so he didn’t hang back to wait around for time to win the fight for him.

That was what made him good at this. The showiness, even if that sometimes meant not doing the smartest, or at least, the most cautious thing. The spectators loved that. They wanted a real fight, every time, and if Sideswipe could deliver that, frag, he would.

It didn’t cost him, this time. He got hurt a bit more, but he also got to hurt a bit more, and although none of that damage was really severe enough, it piled on top of the existing injuries until this one time his opponent couldn’t keep his footing anymore and fell, onto his back, into the dirt.

Sideswipe took the chance it was to close in. The mech tried to still fend him off, but just couldn’t anymore, not before Sideswipe’s sword pressed snugly against his throat.

It wasn’t a death match. There wouldn’t be a kill, this time.

But had he gone through with that last attack, that would not have held true. Everyone knew it.

“Yield,” his opponent said, grudgingly, but he got to walk away with his life. Did that make him lucky, or just someone who now had their life, sure, but no credits to their name?

Not Sideswipe’s problem. He grinned at the mech one more time before he turned his back to him and lifted his sword to the cheer of the crowd.

Credits. They always needed those. They needed to fuel, they needed to pay for the repairs they couldn’t perform themselves, they needed tools for the repairs they could do on their own—their room wasn’t free either, they had to pay to use it. They needed to maintain their looks even somewhat. Cloths, solvent, sometimes even polish. 

Expenses, expenses, expenses, no matter how frugally they tried to live.

Were they ever going to dig themselves out from the gutters, or would they always live on pede in the sludge of the streets? Everyone tried to get out. The vast majority never succeeded.

But they could dream.

His side was wonderfully caved in, armor uncomfortably pressing against his jarred and misaligned internal components, and that was a little too much for them to fix. Sunstreaker accompanied him to the sorry space that worked as the arena’s medical bay—they paid, he got repairs from someone who had probably failed the integration of his medical files. That was what you got down here. No one could truly count themselves a winner if they were stuck in the arenas of the lower decks. 

But it got them by. He felt worse by the end of his repairs than he did before them, but the damage warnings had either dismissed themselves or lowered in importance.

Good enough, that was all you could ever ask for.

Sunstreaker was always a pleasure to watch in the ring, too. He was efficient, not one to play around, just a destructive force on a warpath that would see anything in its way destroyed. Did he always win? No. They faced their betters semi-regularly, like anyone else.

That didn’t make Sunstreaker any less as a fighter, in Sideswipe’s opinion. And they got better, constantly. They practiced, took every opportunity to learn more, studied others, studied themselves to analyze what they could do better. They didn’t settle.

His brother’s unbridled brutality won him his match too. It wasn’t just their unfortunate commissioner that got to taste his claws, and whatever other weapons he chose to use, a sword this time. Just one.

The weapons, too. They practiced with as many of those as they could, not just so they could wield them themselves, but so they knew how they were wielded and wouldn’t get caught off-guard by someone who used them. 

Maybe they’d never make it out of here, but slag, they’d try their hardest anyway.

Sunstreaker needed a few things fixed by a medic too, but even after those payments, their winnings were enough to get them fuel. The rest would go into savings, this time.

They weren’t the only ones at the energon dispensers they made their way to, and they weren’t all strangers there, either. Sunstreaker never talked a hell of a lot with others, but Sideswipe made up for it like always. A couple of friends, a bunch of acquaintances, chatter, teasing, laughter. Recounting of their more recent victories, lamenting of their losses.

The message alert popped up on both of their HUDs at the same time, high enough in priority that it overrode– Actually, that was the highest priority a message could be.

They shared a glance. There wasn’t much question what this was about.

“I think we just got our test date,” Sideswipe stated out loud at the inquisitive looks they both got for their sudden distraction. There was a chorus of understanding noises after that. It wasn’t a secret they hadn’t reached maturity yet, at least not officially.

But they would have, after this. Independence, not tied to anyone. Do what they wanted with no one able to tell them they shouldn’t. Well, aside from the law and all that. But mostly what they wanted!

“Congrats, you’re about to join the big league,” one of the mecha he wouldn’t quite count a friend yet laughed.

“Yeah, it’s really just a formality,” another shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Just show up, get it done, and that’s it, you’ve got your legalities all sorted.”

“I mean,” Sideswipe said after he consulted his navigation system to see where the address they were given was, and wow, “at least we’ll get to see some high end areas for once.

“We’re gonna look so out of place.”

More friendly laughter. Everyone kept their distance from Sunstreaker, but a servo clapped Sideswipe on the shoulder. “Enjoy it while it lasts! Take in the sights, snap some pics. You’ll be back down here right after.”

“Bring a souvenir, too!”

Sideswipe laughed and even Sunstreaker made an amused sound. “I’ll snatch something from the clinic before making a run for it, that good enough?”

( Next )

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – The Best Roommate?

A/N – Based on a lot of @rocksinmuffin head-canons so extra special thanks to them for that. And it’s here, thanks for the patience.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Swerve waited while you examined your new “home”, situated on the desk. So far, you’d been too awestruck to speak, which was probably a good sign. Gently grazing your hand over the bed, you paused, spinning around with an unbelievably huge smile on your face; a smile for Swerve.

“You did all of this yourself?” You admired.

“Well… Brainstorm helped a bit,” Swerve answered confidently, thanking Primus for keeping his vocaliser in check.

“Oh, Swerve,” You jumped into his servo, bringing the two of you level, and pecked his cheek adoringly.

The kiss felt funny to you, you’d expected it to be like kissing a family member or friend but it sparked something more. You pulled back, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Swerve murmured, suddenly aware of how unusually close you were.

You shook your head, pecking his lips instead. A peck turned into a kiss, the kiss turned into a lingering snog and that led to amorous making out, with Swerve on cloud nine and you discovering a connection you’d never thought about.

“Swerve… Swerve… SWERVE!”

Swerve’s comm link crackled, bringing him out of the deluded fantasy he’d been experiencing.

“Rodimus?” Swerve answered the comm-link.

“Is (Y/N)’s room ready now?”

Swerve examined the desk that had been set out for you. He’d measured it exactly so that you’d be eye level with him when you stood on it. On your own, you came up to his thighs; not a bad size difference compared to most of the other mechs, it was the one time in his life he was happy to be a Minibot. The house-like setup was much improved in your last one, fit for a queen with the advancements Swerve had pestered Brainstorm for; the one thing Brainstorm wouldn’t change or take away was the images of himself depicted on the bed, shower curtain, and cushions. Ignoring that, Swerve admired the handy work, with this you were sure to like him more.

“The pinnacle of human accommodation,” Swerve joked.

“Good, I’ll send Ultra Magnus with her now, are you sure you can handle having a human roommate?”

“Who else would be better?”

“Me, Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, anyone else who’s been to Earth, probably Cyclonus, maybe Night-”

Swerve shut off his comm-link, grumbling. He was going to show the entire ship that he was the best roommate a human could ever have. However, despite his resolve and the underlying excitement, Swerve felt like he was going to purge his tanks. He knew there was nothing further he could do, he’d already cleaned the hab-suite, prepared your half, and been re-painted but he still couldn’t shake the fear that you’d come to hate him. Ignoring that, he watched his internal clock, counting every second until Ultra Magnus arrived.

It was exactly 1829 seconds till the two of you arrived or rather shortly after 30 minutes. Ultra Magnus was his usual self, serious and law abiding; he made sure to inspect your new living area before you were even allowed to see it, he even made you wait outside on your own in case he needed to lecture Swerve.

Finally, you were let in after Magnus declared the room was up to human standards. You rocketed up to the table, exploring the new “house” quietly; it was a lot more impressive than the previous one. Swerve watched you, you weren’t saying much but now, outside of his fantasy, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

You paced around once more, nodding satisfactorily and saying, “It’s nice.”

Ultra Magnus took that as confirmation his job was done. He walked to the exit, excusing himself.

“Thanks Maggie,” You called cheekily.

He froze in the hallway, instantly loathing the nickname, yet as long as it was from you, he supposed it had a nice ring to it; though he would have to rebuke you for using it in public later.

The door shut automatically, leaving you and Swerve alone in a new-found state of awkward silence. You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty you were afraid of being a burden to the friendly bot; did he really have any idea how much more maintenance you needed than him?

“Uhh so…” You mumbled.

“You can move your stuff in now if you want,” Swerve blurted.

“Oh, uh, I don’t actually own anything anymore so this is it really, just me.”

“Oh, right…”

The silence fell again.

You struggled for something to say, “Thanks for doing this by the way.”

“No problem.”

“Right.”

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, come on, I have something really cool to show you, you still have your space suit, right?”

“Y-yeah, Preceptor made me a new one, give me a minute to change?”

“Sure, great, whatever you need,” Swerve beamed; if it killed him, he was going to make you feel comfortable again.

Swerve had slipped back into his bartender rapport, entertaining you with tales of his past, news on the ship, and the crew’s latest antics. Slowly, you were managing to relax again. When you’d been in Swerve’s hab-suite earlier - Your hab-suite - you’d been afraid of doing or saying something to offend him. Swerve had quickly become your best friend on the ship and you didn’t want to jeopardise that; then you almost had by acting odd. Despite that, you were quickly realising that things were going to be okay.

The two of you stopped at a closed door. “You need to turn on your mag-boots and oxygen now,” Swerve warned.

By now, you knew you were going outside and you were more than a little frightened to do so. Yet, with Swerve by your side, you felt a little braver. After doing as told, you gave him a thumbs up, fighting the dryness in your throat.

Swerve punched in the door code, watching for your elation as you stared into open space. The elation didn’t come however. Instead, you were stuck, unmoving and unable to speak as terrifying claustrophobia took over.

“Isn’t it great?” Swerve asked, setting into a conversation about the view.

“I almost died,” You panicked, remembering the pod.

“I like to come here to think sometimes.”

“This is what it looked like before I came here.”

“I expect we’ll see a planet in a few cycles, then we can go out together, if Ultra Magnus and Megatron let you.”

“It never ends, I would have drifted forever.”

“And if you walk this way-” Swerve stopped, finally noticing that you were still in the doorway while he was far ahead of you, near what looked like a metal pier.

“(Y/N)?”

You stood shivering, struggling to breathe.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Is it too boring here? Are you feeling okay? Is it too cold?”

Unforgettable images flashed before your eyes. You were in the pod again, lights were flashing and alarms blared. Just like then, you couldn’t breathe, though this time it wasn’t because the air supply was running out.

You clawed at your throat, gasping. Swerve ran over, clutching you tightly, “(Y/N)! WHAT’S HAPPENING? IS IT A SUIT MALFUNCTION? (Y/N)?! RATCHET,” he switched to his radio, “(Y/N) NEEDS HELP.”

“WHAT HAPPENED?” Ratchet reprimanded.

“I TOOK HER TO THE OIL RESOVOIR AND SHE JUST STARTED- I DON’T KNOW BUT SHE NEEDS HELP NOW.”

“Wait there, I’m on my way!”

Swerve glanced at your pale face, panicking more at the sight of your bulging eyes. Knowing nothing that could help, he pressed his helm against your head, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Everything will be alright.” He repeated the phrase over and over until Ratchet came, though it was unclear whether he was saying it for your benefit or his own.

“Take your time,” Rung eased, “I want you to feel comfortable, there’s no shame in here.”

You’d been sat in his patient’s chair for little over twenty minutes, searching for the right words after your visit to the medical bay. On Ratchet’s orders, you weren’t allowed to leave until you’d completed a mandatory psyche-evaluation.

“I thought…” You began hesitantly, “I thought that after seeing it – uh, space – through the windows that I’d be okay… that I was fine but- There’s only so much denial you can go through, y’know? I thought I didn’t need help but after today, I guess it was a wake-up call to come to you. Is that normal?”

“Not only is it normal, admitting you need help is the first step to recovery. I know it may seem difficult to talk about now but I’d like you to try; if it becomes too difficult, we can stop, alright?”

You nodded, forcing your mind back to before you’d been rushed to med-bay. “It was all so dark and everything real, like Swerve and the ship, it all disappeared. I’ve never felt so claustrophobic; in space, I’ve never been so cold.”

[verdigrisprowl]

Feb 22 Blurr’s Horror Stream - The Wraith

Prowl was not impressed by the behavior of law enforcement in this movie.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. The chat room has been cleared by the moderator. B l u r r: / Lok who's alive. Sort of. Kind of. Maybe. We're not sure. / FakeProwl: *that's a little disappointing, but okay.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave trudges in with Ravage, Frenzy, and one arm who has agreed to come but stubbornly refuses to undock.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He takes his usual seat while Frenzy rushes over to inspect Blurr* B l u r r: / sinks down in his couch and just rubs his optic / Airachnid: [sneaks in and goes for the hammock immediately] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\WHERE WERE YA?\\ B l u r r: ... /winces / Loud. B l u r r: /mumbles/ I was... I don't know. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy opens his mouth to speak but realizes his whisper isn't much better and just sorta. Awkward. Pat pat. Thing.* B l u r r: ... /vents heavily / Thanks. FakeProwl: *... Soundwave's looking a little lopsided today.* B l u r r: [[ yall tell me when you're ready. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ready whenever!)) Airachnid: ready)) FakeProwl: ((ready)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave nods to Prowl, Blurr, and Airachnid. And yeah, he's a bit uneven right now. That's fine. Just stick with the regular side, if you're sitting with.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage and Frenzy will plop down by Blurr for the night.* FakeProwl: *will do. there's no need for him to he holding hands with rumble, anyway. it's not like they're FRIENDS or something.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh heavens no, Rumble befriending a cop? The world would sooner grind to a halt and burn. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, he wouldn't want that right now.* B l u r r: / is being sat with the kiddos? / B l u r r: [[ this movie is old lmao ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\FRAG THAT CACTUS IN PARTICULAR.\\ Airachnid: [munches on the snacks that she brought] B l u r r: /props cheek on claw and just stares at the screen / B l u r r: These humans have ugly clothes /mumbling / ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Ugh.]] FakeProwl: *... not bad music though* Airachnid: Indeed, they look atrocious. B l u r r: Mm... ItsyBitsySpyers: *Agreed on the music. He doesn't know enough about human fashion.* B l u r r: /makes a face/ FakeProwl: They were attacked in the middle of the night by a pack of brigands that bullied them into a race for the right to his car, and he's surprised that they cheated? B l u r r: Slow. Airachnid: I was more surprised that they let him live. B l u r r: Cheating in a race isn't racing... /grumbles/ FakeProwl: They weren't "racing." They were trying to steal a car in a manner that humiliates the victim. The race was the means by which the theft was committed, not a true race. B l u r r: Stealing is easier if you just kill the people you steal from. Honestly. /dull tone/ boomtank: ...so. I walked in on a vaugely disturbing line, huh? Airachnid: Indeed. No witnesses, just need to get rid of the body. B l u r r: Or eat it. Airachnid: There's that as well. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i looked away to order pizza, what did i miss)) FakeProwl: ((i think that dude's fantasizing about murder?)) boomtank: ...-sits down finally- ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nods at Blaster* boomtank: -waves back- ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HUMAN FUEL'S SO FRAGGIN' WEIRD.\\ B l u r r: hnh, Airachnid: That is an understatement. B l u r r: not that bad. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...HOW D'YOU KNOW?\\ Airachnid: [just watching it be prepared makes her cringe] B l u r r: Hmnh? Ah, well, we conquered haf the countries on Earth once. B l u r r: Saw a lot of food. /shrug/ B l u r r: Ideas are interesting, ingredients aren't. B l u r r: energon is better. boomtank: Don't say please, say no B l u r r: There. Perfect. B l u r r: / slouches more so / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...THAT DON'T HAPPEN TO YOU, DOES IT?\\ boomtank: yikes ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave glances at Prowl* FakeProwl: *such gratuitous gore* FakeProwl: *glances back. ??* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): When last time similar chase performed? boomtank: Hologram? B l u r r: What? A crash? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «You mean a regular car chase, or a car chase where the target gets himself killed?» B l u r r: No, I don't crash. I know how to drive. /mumbles / ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Regular intended. Now curious about both. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SO YA DON'T NEVER HIT NOBODY ON PURPOSE?\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...OH, WHISPERIN'. RIGHT.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *He scoots a few feet away from Blurr so maybe it's not as bad.* B l u r r: /rubs helm/ It's... I have. But, when I collide with a vehicle, it isn't the same. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Do chases where I wasn't the driver count? If so, on Earth, while I was undercover and being driven by human police.» B l u r r: My collision with a mech means their circuts melt and I take all their speed. B l u r r: [[ lmao old 80s makeup]] boomtank: .... ItsyBitsySpyers: \\REMIND ME NOT TO GET CRASHED WITH YA.\\ FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Not sure how long it's been since someone died during a chase. Hundreds of thousands of years. I haven't been in many chases since the war started. That's not my duty.» B l u r r: Mm... don't drive much lately. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slow nod. Such a long time for both.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Then Prowl's bridge lesson drive more impressive. FakeProwl: *gratitude ping* B l u r r: He's irritating... like you /mumbling to vacant space / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HE'S GETTIN' HIS GROSS BLOOD ALL OVER A NICE CAR.\\ Airachnid: Eh, it can be washed out. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage looks up at Blurr, wondering which one he's hearing, but says nothing* B l u r r: / mumbles and looks over at Ravage. Waves claw. He looks dead tired/ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HOW'S IT WASH OUT? DON'T IT STAIN?\\ Airachnid: You have to get the right kind of solvent. ItsyBitsySpyers: =Wasted weapons. Wasted parts.= ItsyBitsySpyers: *Disgusted cat face* B l u r r: / vents and stares at the screen / FakeProwl: *that's a pretty awful cop* Airachnid: [most cops are] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((throwing away perfectly good pickles, how dare he)) B l u r r: (( rude )) boomtank: ((I at least give mine to someone who wants them FakeProwl: ((i don't like the taste of pickles on burgers, it overwhelms the rest of the burger)) B l u r r: [[ this guy changes facepaint and his mohawk colors every scene. ]] B l u r r: [[ it me. ]] FakeProwl: ((but i'll at least pick them off and eat them alone)) Airachnid: yeah exactly, I don't like them but I give them to my family)) boomtank: ((Yeah ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i will eat all pickles for all of you always)) boomtank: ((you can have them ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...Shouldn't they have been arrested as well?]] FakeProwl: Technically, they're not actively racing. There's nothing to arrest them for if they weren't caught in the act. boomtank: Apparently they cannot arrest crowds ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Hmm.]] FakeProwl: These two are the ones who are actively engaging in an illegal race. Airachnid: They have no evidence. After all, they could have just been standing there. boomtank: Yup FakeProwl: They COULD be in trouble for obstructing traffic by parking their car in the middle of the road. But that's a lesser charge than ilegal racing. FakeProwl: Plus, the black one has already killed someone. It's more important to catch. B l u r r: Two someones. boomtank: And that...makes two Airachnid: I get up to get a snack and I miss it. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Sends her the instant replay* Airachnid: Ah, thank you Soundwave. boomtank: Was that really needed? Airachnid: Yes. Airachnid: Apparently. boomtank: That other just took out the fronts of both others B l u r r: Hnh. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Another thought.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Prowl preferred Autobot 'desk duty', active... policing? This, appropriate word? On Earth? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Being someone else's police car, you mean?» boomtank: ... boomtank: Wow... ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Affirmative. Which existence preferred? ... Human optional. B l u r r: / makes a noise/ B l u r r: Annoying... ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy flops backward while he waits for another exciting sequence.* Airachnid: wait is that Charlie Sheen)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *He doesn't get far because spines, but it's the thought that counts* B l u r r: [[y eh ]] FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Active policing as a Cybertronian and passive policing under a human's control are completely different.» Airachnid: omg)) ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Active policing as Cybertronian added, third option. boomtank: ...ghost. boomtank: Or something FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I prefer being a police officer to being an Autobot.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nod. Wasn't sure if sitting behind a desk made any difference.* FakeProwl: *police officers can sit behind desks too. police desks are better than autobot desks.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *From the usual answer of going out and investigating scenes, that is.* Airachnid: What a lovely example of a police officer at work. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\PRIMUS, GET BACK TO THE CARS ALREADY.\\ B l u r r: Or drown her, honestly. Airachnid: Or at least more violence. B l u r r: [[ movie makeouts always look like 2 fishes trying to breathe ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((in mostly standing water? grossss)) boomtank: -back to reading- B l u r r: [[ this dude and his coloring. I love it. It screams mad max meets some hair stylist ]] Airachnid: goals tbh)) B l u r r: same tbh ]] B l u r r: Well. They're dead. boomtank: ............... ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THAT'S MORE LIKE IT.\\ FakeProwl: ((IT'S THE TIRE)) boomtank: -NOT LOOKING- FakeProwl: ((RUBBER)) B l u r r: [[lmao ]] Airachnid: god)) FakeProwl: *prowl is trying, really really hard, not to judge vehicles based on how they look and whether those looks fit their functions.* FakeProwl: *but for the life of him, he cannot take the police car with the detachable light instead of a light bar seriously* ItsyBitsySpyers: ((lmao PROWL)) boomtank: ((pfff B l u r r: Her clothes are all ugly. B l u r r: All of them. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\TEAR HIS OPTICS OUT\\ Airachnid: Pathetic. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OR LIKE. GET OUT THE FRAGGIN' CAR WHILE THEY'RE BUSY.\\ B l u r r: What a useless bunch of humans. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy throws his arms up*  \\COME ON\\ boomtank: ....sheesh boomtank: ((start skating home girl ItsyBitsySpyers: \\WONDER HOW FAST GHOSTS CAN GO.\\ B l u r r: well. They're slower than me. B l u r r: so not fast at all. boomtank: And there goes the last one ItsyBitsySpyers: \\EVERYBODY'S SLOWER'N YOU. THAT DON'T COUNT.\\ boomtank: ...or not? boomtank: Ah. Never mind. He's dead. Airachnid: ...well then. B l u r r: ... /strained noise. How odd / boomtank: Ghost boomtank: Ghost car? FakeProwl: *mutters* Sure, drive off into the night and leave your brother with the murder weapon. That's a gift that can't possibly backfire. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Amused huff* boomtank: Yeeeesh Airachnid: Is that it? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Perhaps they didn't like each other.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SO IT. IT IS A GHOST OR IT AIN'T?\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scratches his helm in confusion* B l u r r: who knows. boomtank: Both? Airachnid: Maybe just advanced technology that was never explained? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\UUUUUGH.\\ B l u r r: /shrugs / Airachnid: Who knows with these human films, I've learned to not question it and enjoy how terrible it is. boomtank: Well...he did say that it was as close as he could get B l u r r: / scrubs faceplate. Mumbling / boomtank: So, maybe a piece of tech or unexplained science? B l u r r: regardless, the car stayed, so I guess it's not a ghost. boomtank: Yeah ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scowls.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SCIENCE DIDN'T GIVE *ME* NO GHOSTIN' POWER.\\ B l u r r: Ghosts aren't real. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy looks to Soundwave. Soundwave shakes his helm no. Not today.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH. GUESS NOT.\\ B l u r r: /mumbles and just crosses arms. / boomtank: ....? boomtank: -has a feeling he's missing something here- B l u r r: / vents. he is one worn out piece of trash / Well. B l u r r: Anyway. /waves claw / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy gives Blurr a Look* \\YOU. YA BETTER GET REST. 'SPECIALLY IF YA DON'T KNOW WHERE YA WAS OR HOW COME.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Watching You motion* B l u r r: / shrugs / B l u r r: I know where I was. I just don't know where I was. boomtank: ....... B l u r r: / those mean two different things / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...YOUR HELM'S GLITCHIN' OR SOMETHIN'.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Yeah, he doesn't get it.* B l u r r: Basically. B l u r r: / his helm literally did glitch. That's the joke / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy just squints, then shakes his helm* B l u r r: Anyway... /vents and rubs optic. Swats at his vacant side and hisses something/ Annoying.. B l u r r: I found a new system, so. I'll be busy. /he shouldn't be busy, but he willbe / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\NOT TOO BUSY, LIKE.\\ *Pokes Ravage in the side and jerks his helm toward the Boss* \\I MEAN IT.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\DON'T WANNA TELL WHIRL YA CAME BACK 'N WENT AWAY AGAIN.\\ B l u r r: ... Trust me. /stares at Frenzy / Where I was is more appealing to me than where I am these days. B l u r r: / which isn't agood thing but shhh / ItsyBitsySpyers: *They hop up and start jogging over to the Boss. He'll make them a little bit of room so they can do what they do.* boomtank: ...right. Uh...Thanks for the movie. Hope you recover soon ItsyBitsySpyers: *And after a moment, out of Soundwave's speakers:* \\DON'T MAKE ME COME BACK OVER THERE 'N SLUG YA\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Goodnight, Blaster.]] B l u r r: / waves at boom  / Mmhm. boomtank: G'night boomtank: -and out he goes- B l u r r: Go ahead and try. /dull expression / Anyway... They say I need to talk to Scorponock. FakeProwl: *interesting bit of ventriloquism* boomtank: ((and out I go, because I forgot important stuffs. Thanks for the stream and g'night! B l u r r: [[ night!! ]] Airachnid: [climbs out of hammock] Well that was.. something. Until next time. B l u r r: Mm... /wave/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *He'll keep the other ventriloquist tricks secret around Prowl, probably. For the best.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Goodnight, Airachnid.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[And if that is what you are told, then you should do it. He seems lonely, in any case.]] B l u r r: Who, Scorponock? B l u r r: He's not handling the news well, no. Malika: Doh Malika: Too late ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Then the two of you can help each other.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[But he should return home. He has an early work shift tomorrow and it is difficult to recharge when certain parties are still excited after these nights.] B l u r r: / vents and lifts a claw anyway / B l u r r: I have... things to do. /which means go back to where he was / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Gives a tiny tiny nudge to Prowl for being good seat company, as always* FakeProwl: *tiny nod back* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...Hmm. All right.]] *SUSPICIOUS... but he supposes he'll find out what that means next week* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rises, gives a little bow, and excuses himself* FakeProwl: *disappears*