#if u disagree i suggest u argue with the wall about it

[knifeslidez]

already dreading all the biphobic motherfuckers that are going to start yapping aggressively the second june starts

[dennisboobs]

my favourite thing about the always sunny podcast is listening to rcg all say something extremely neurodivergent and then agree amongst themselves and convince themselves its completely normal

[4haechie]

stuck with you

➵ request: can i request fluff + au #2 + trope #1 "enemies to lovers" + prompt #4 & #19?? thank you 🥰

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, enemies to lovers au, high school au | 2,760 words | “take off your shirt.” + “can you shut up for just two seconds?”

➵ warnings: cursing and one second of suggestive stuff

➵ a/n: thank u for requesting! i really hope u like it :D i added timestamps to avoid confusion, so this turned out longer than expected oops. if u want a part 2, please let me know!

want to request? check this post out!

present time – thursday, 6:30 p.m. 

you’re starting to wish time machines existed right about now. you’ll do just about anything to go back to two hours ago and avoid this mess.

you glance up at donghyuck, who’s put on his thinking cap apparently, and is trying to come up with a way to get you two the hell out of here. “do you have a hairpin? or a bobby pin?” he asks.

you shake your head, “donghyuck, that only works in movies.”

“y/n, i’m trying to come up with solutions here! or do you wanna live in this tiny janitor’s closet for the rest of your life?” he glares at you.

“if i did, i would’ve chosen someone else to share oxygen with. why would i choose you?” you glare back.

he rolls his eyes, indicating that that conversation is over. “whatever. try calling your friends again. someone must still be at school, right?”

you frown, “donghyuck, we had the student council meeting earlier, remember? that ended at six, and it’s almost six-thirty now. all the sports teams’ practice sessions must’ve ended, too. i’m telling you, it’s just us in school.” you shake a little as if trying to wake up from a crazy dream. no avail.

you’re stuck here–no, wait. someone locked you two in here. you’re going to have to trace back your steps to figure out who.

thursday, 4:00 p.m.

“the weekly student council meeting is in session. today, we’re going to discuss prom! i’ve put up a list on the bulletin board that says who’s going to do what. please take a look at it immediately.” you explained, gazing around the group of students in front of you.

you’re the president and donghyuck is the vice president. you two work together almost every day, you’re in the same classes, you have the same friends. but there’s one minor detail in your guys’ relationship: you two hate each other.

hate might be a bit too strong of a word, but it’s true. you and donghyuck, despite working together and being in the same class since third grade, have never gotten along. maybe it’s your guys’ competitiveness. maybe it’s your strong desire to one-up the other. but as long as you can recall, there hasn’t been a single time when he hasn’t made your blood boil.

anyway, you and donghyuck were in charge of planning your senior prom, and ensuring everything and everyone follows said plan.

while discussing the event, you realised you forgot to check with your school’s janitor if he’s free on the day of prom, or if he’s taking a holiday. either way was fine with you, as you were thinking of making everyone clean up after themselves. but just to be sure, you and donghyuck, unfortunately, decided to stop by the closet after the meeting had ended.

thursday, 6:05 p.m.

“i don’t think he’s here. it is after school hours, so i think he went home,” you said, peeping into the dark closet. it was pretty obvious he wasn’t there–the room couldn’t have been more than five feet by five feet. it’s a storage space, but the janitor keeps his bag here before starting work and picks it up right before leaving school.

“yeah, no shit, sherlock.” donghyuck reached around you to flip the light switch on. the lone bulb suspended from the ceiling blazed to life, setting the room alight.

then, suddenly, a figure pushed donghyuck into the confined space, which caused you to jerk inwards. it happened so fast, you barely had time to react, or identify the culprit. you heard keys jingling and fear danced around in your eyes.

donghyuck was still facing the door, while you were standing with your back against the wall. he tried his best to look out the little glass rectangle fitted in the door, but he turned around and shook his head in frustration.

“what the fuck just happened,” you said; it came out more as a statement, but anger resonated through your words.

“we, er, just got locked in here.” he deadpanned as if you couldn’t have figured.

you groaned and clenched your fists. “i’m gonna kill them. you didn’t happen to see their face, did you?”

he shook his head, “nope.”

“well, we know one thing. that person had the key–and only two people have the key to the closet. the janitor, who’s not even here, and the general office staff. but i’m sure they wouldn’t lock us in here.” you said.

donghyuck tilted his head, “okay, then, who...” he trailed off, allowing you to vocalise your theories.

 “somebody must have stolen one of the two keys.” your brain’s gears started turning, trying to think of someone who would pull something like this.

“it could be the janitor’s keys. the closet was unlocked when we got here.” donghyuck reminded you.

“yeah...but he never leaves the closet unlocked. he’s very responsible, so it can’t be his set of keys. it’s probably the staff’s set,” you countered. “they barely pay any attention to non-admin matters. that person must’ve stolen their keys, unlocked the door after the janitor left, and waited for us to come here, before locking us in. jesus, i’m so angry. this is so fucking childish,” you groaned again.

donghyuck nodded in slight agreement, surprising you. he never agrees on anything you have to say, but he didn’t have much of a choice in that situation. plus, your theory made sense. “do you think this whole thing was renjun’s idea? he was the one who suggested we check with the janitor about prom night.”

your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god...wait, but it wasn’t renjun’s idea. it was mine, actually–he just reminded me to do so.” you slowly dropped down to the floor and held your head in your hands. you couldn’t believe what was going on. the entire situation seemed to just hit you.

you’re stuck in a small closet with lee donghyuck, your number one enemy.

present time – thursday, 6:40 p.m.

“none of them are picking up. donghyuck, what if they’re all in on this together? kind of like a senior prank–except we’re the ones getting pranked.” you say, panic rising in your voice. you’re standing now, leaning against the wall with your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

knowing your and donghyuck’s friends, you’re sure you’re going to be here all night. they’re quite a bunch. you and donghyuck have a common friend group, but your friends find your ongoing rivalry extremely annoying. it makes perfect sense if they locked you two in here.

donghyuck digests your words quickly. “no way. that’s insane! why the fuck would they do that?”

“well, do you have a better explanation? i’m sure you don’t, considering i’m the only one who’s been thinking of possible theories, while you’re here giving me the only suggestion you have–your stupid bobby pin idea,” you say, breathing heavily.

“can you shut up for just two seconds? always telling me what to do, disagreeing with me, arguing and fighting with me. we’re locked in here, and you think arguing like little kids is gonna get us out?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “god, and to think i had a crush on you last year.” he must not have meant to reveal that little secret, because his ears turn red instantly.

you gape at him, “what–what did you say?”

“look at you, getting a big head again–!”

“donghyuck.”

“i liked you! there, you happy?”

“i like–liked you too, idiot,” you say in a low voice.

then, he laughs–a melodious sound, emitting pure joy and rainbows and sunshine. “some type of rivals we are.”

you laugh with him now, finding the situation so pathetically sad that it was almost funny. laughable. something to reminisce from time to time.

“you...you still like me?” donghyuck asks in a small voice you’ve never heard before.

“take a guess.”

“no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek, “take another guess.”

he grins at you, leaning against one of the shelves–which was a bad move on his part. he accidentally knocks over a bottle of...detergent? who knows, but it ends up uncapped and half-empty once it lands on the floor. luckily it was plastic, so the bottle doesn’t break. unluckily, the other of the liquid splashes on you, soaking your entire shirt. your plain, white, shirt.

donghyuck freezes, “um...y/n, i’m sorry–”

you hold up a hand. the god of testing people’s patience must’ve signed you up for some competitive exam today. “save it.”

donghyuck looks around hastily, trying to find a clean rag. he produces a small yellow cloth from the back of one of the shelves and hands it to you, “here.”

you don’t even say thanks. you quickly take it from him, free your shirt from your jeans, and start wiping and drying it to the best of your ability. you manage to make the shirt as dry as possible, but it was detergent that spilt on you. it was soapy–it was not water. 

you groan for the third time today and look at donghyuck, gritting your teeth. “i can’t possibly go out like this.”

he winces, feeling extremely apologetic. “take off your shirt and wear my hoodie instead. i have two layers on,” he suggests.

you give him a double-take, “what the fuck? no! why would i do that?” you exclaim.

“do you have any better ideas?”

you watch as he swiftly takes his hoodie off, revealing a loose tee clad on his body. you hate to admit how good he looks. he hands the item of clothing to you, and you tell him to turn around as you begrudgingly peel your shirt away. you take the rag once again, wiping off as much soapy liquid as you can, and pull the hoodie over your head.

it smells like him, you think. it smells like that expensive cologne he always seems to wear. you show no indication that you find his hoodie soft and comforting, and tell him you’re done. you roll the shirt, squeezing any remnants of detergent out, and stuff it in your bag.

he bites back the smile daring to form on his lips upon seeing you in his hoodie. “okay. now that that’s over, let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”

you nod. “i have our science teacher’s number. maybe i could ask her to help us? she’s always here late, marking papers and assignments.”

donghyuck snaps his fingers, “you’re right! yeah, give her a call.”

you scroll through your contacts till you find the name you’re looking for. you press the call button and set it to speaker mode so donghyuck can hear as well. she picks up after three rings, “hello?”

“hi, miss angela! it’s me, y/n. you see, um, donghyuck and i got locked in the janitor’s closet by someone, and we have no way to get out. are you still in school? if you are, is it possible for you to unlock the door from the outside?”

miss angela hums a little, as if in thought, “i just left, my dear. i could turn the car around if you’d like. i’m sure the office keeps an extra set.”

“yes! that would be great. thank you, miss angela. and we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” you nudge donghyuck with your elbow, who catches on immediately.

“yeah, we’re incredibly sorry. i’ll be sure to submit an extra report–!”

“save it, lee donghyuck. i’ll be there in five to ten minutes,” she hangs up with that.

you pocket your phone and look at donghyuck. “so.”

“so,” he repeats.

“are we going to act like we didn’t just confess to one another earlier?” you ask, biting your lip nervously.

“no, i don’t want to, um, act like we didn’t. i lied, y/n. i had a crush on you last year, yeah, but i never stopped liking you. i still like you. i don’t want to be your enemy anymore.” he nudges you. 

you smile shyly, “i like you too, donghyuck.”

just then, you hear keys jingling–an all too familiar sound. you get excited, thinking you’re going to be met with the face of miss angela, but when the door bursts open, you see the smirking faces of renjun and jeno.

“about fucking time!” renjun pulls you and donghyuck outside.

“what?” donghyuck demands. “it was your idea to lock us in there? are you fucking kidding me?”

jeno grimaces, “i’m sorry, it was the only way you two would confess your feelings for each other and stop fighting for good.”

“i can think of plenty of ways–!”

“wait, y/n, are you wearing donghyuck’s hoodie? holy fuck...don’t tell me you guys did it.” renjun looks back and forth between you and donghyuck.

“what? no, of course not!” you retort.

“then why do you have his hoodie on, dear y/n?” jeno asks.

“that’s none of your damn business, lee jeno!” donghyuck looks ready to pounce on him, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him. his gaze drops down to your hand and it softens.

“there was a little accident...but the good thing is that we’re out. hooray. now, everybody, go home. i have to call miss an–”

“y/n, thank goodness! what happened?” miss angela emerges into the scene, looking a little worried.

you briefly explain the evening’s events to her, without mentioning the confession part. she doesn’t need to know that. you tell her it was a silly prank. nothing more, nothing less.

she visibly sighs a breath of relief. “well, at least it wasn’t some stranger. jeno, renjun, i didn’t expect this from you two. but i’m glad you’re all okay.” she takes her leave, after ensuring you four are on your way home.

jeno and renjun go home via jeno’s car, and you and donghyuck, living only a couple of blocks away from school, decide to walk the journey.

“all this... just so we could stop fighting,” donghyuck laughs. you’re walking side by side, hands occasionally brushing against one another. it’s like something out of a cheesy rom-com. you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“it worked, didn’t it?” you say.

donghyuck stops on the pavement, turning his body to face you. he stretches out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, making you bump his shoulder shyly. he smiles; he wouldn’t have it any other way either.

“i guess it did. but what do we do now?”

“what do you mean?” you raise an eyebrow.

“like, do i walk you home first? do i ask you on a date? god, with you, it’s just so much more...different. if it was someone else, i would’ve gone with my gut, but with you, i don’t wanna mess it up. you know?” donghyuck finally takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. you feel his warmth radiate, you feel his touch bringing you safety and comfort. something way more powerful than a hoodie.

“donghyuck, i’m new at this too. i’m just as scared as you are. and that’s okay, trust me. i’m glad it’s me and not anyone else.” you assure him.

you gather up whatever courage you have remaining, tip-toe, and brush your lips against his cheek. you stay there for a moment, just breathing him in. when you pull away, his cheeks are a dusty pink shade.

“do that again,” he tells you.

“no, i think i’m good.” you start walking again.

“y/n!” he whines.

“okay, on one condition.” he raises a brow, “ask me on a date.”

for a moment, he’s bewildered. then, he gets down on one fucking knee, not caring about anyone who might be watching, and clears his throat. “y/n, i like you so much. will you make me the happiest man alive, and go on a date with me this saturday?” he looks up at you expectantly.

you chuckle at his antics and give him a nod. “i would love to, lee donghyuck.”

he grins, all big and bright, and leaps up to envelop you in a hug. his arms go around your waist and yours circle his neck. he whispers in your hair, “i guess we owe renjun and jeno a thank you?”

“i am not going to thank them for locking us up in a closet. in fact, i’m gonna double their prom duties.” you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs at your comment.

however, you are thankful that it was lee donghyuck you got stuck with. so, forget the time machine. you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone -04

Masterpost

"Look, I don't like saying it," Sam suggests. "But that might just be Stockholm syndrome."

"It's definitely not Stockholm syndrome," she returns angrily. "Fuck off. I'm just trying to get us all out alive, thank you very much."

"Sounds like it though," Sam insists calmly. "You're literally empathizing with the guy who keeps kidnapping you."

"I still think he's lying," Clint throws in, putting his fork down and leaning back. "And we shouldn't trust him."

"I've never heard of Schmidt recruiting into his guard," Pepper throws in. "Since, you know, the forties. Is that even plausible?"

"If there actually is mind control involved?" Bruce points out. "Why not. But I still doubt it. I mean, how would that even work, neurologically? You'd have to trigger a strong emotional reaction with just a thought ."

"As I said," Tony adds. "I still think he's hitting on you."

Bruce blushes, stabbing around his salad. "He's not hitting on me," she hisses back. "You wanna play that through? He could just make me. Not like I could stop him."

"And then you'd put a bullet through your skull," Clint remarks coldly. "No baby. It's far-fetched, I agree, but he clearly gets something out of manipulating you."

"He's not- I wouldn't fall for that," she argues back. "I'm really not gullible."

"You're lonely, though," Sam adds quietly, flicking a fly away.

Clean punch. Knocks her back. "I'm- what?"

Sam huffs. "You've been here for almost two years but you do your damnedest not to let anyone close. You don't wanna talk about anything private, I get it, it's dark, but don't tell me that's fun, never opening up to anyone about anything. And along comes a fucking vampire who claims to understand you, whether he's lying or not, and you just want to believe him."

"Alright, alright," Fury interrupts before the awkward silence settles in. "Putting the personal stuff aside. I think our best option is actually to trust him."

"Excuse me." Tony rubs his ears demonstratively. "I think I misheard. Did you just say trust ?"

"Shut up, Stark, I don't like it either," Fury states. "But Romanoff's right. We're not realistically going to kill him. And even if, who knows how many other people he kills before that. We're also not letting anyone turn into a vampire. So the best chance we have is actually to convince him not to murder us, or at least get enough of his trust so we can kill him."

"I agree." Pepper leans her elbows on the table. "It's not a good option but it's the best we have. And Natasha can best assess the risk, so she should decide whether she's willing to take it." She waits and snorts. "Come on, say it. I know you all disagree."

"I don't," Sam says. "I don't like it but I see your point."

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Clint asks. "Convince the killing machine not to kill us? Just because he's playing nice? Why would he do that?"

"Yeah," Tony agrees. "You say you don't want to throw her to the vampires, but you're literally throwing her at the vampire."

Pepper snorts. "Oh, come on. Nobody's throwing her anywhere. This is just Bobbi all over again."

"Could you not ," Clint returns sourly.

"Well, since I'm not a team player anyway," Natasha points out coldly. "Why would I listen to any of you?"

"Cut it, all of you," Fury demands. "This is not a nice situation, very dangerous, bla bla bla, we're going to do it. End of discussion."

"We could give her a tracker," Bruce says quietly. "Put it in the suit. Then we'd know where she is at least."

"Oh yeah," Tony agrees. "Monitor a bunch of vitals, too. That should give us a sense of danger."

See , Fury's look says. "Well. Last chance to back out, Romanoff."

"No," Natasha replies. "I'm good."

  "Yeah, Fury put all of our shifts together, except for one," Pepper remarks. "Hope you don't mind. He's a little… clumsy about that sort of thing, though I generally would not associate the word clumsy with him."

"Should be fine," Natasha says. "Wanna cross the river?"

Pepper grins. "Risky. I like it, let's go."

They walk over to Smíchov, which is generally more risky due to its closeness to the castle but not too risky. The 'vampires can't cross flowing waters' is obviously bullshit but they do tend to keep to their safe side. It's too many of them to clean out the West side of the Vltava, at least for now.

"They were together, right?" Natasha asks. "Clint and that Bobbi woman."

Pepper snorts. "Yeah, if you were wondering why Clint was so cold to you at first. Bobbi was a tracker too. Worked together a lot. Had their issues, though, always."

"And then she left," Natasha points out.

"It can be a bit of a sausage fest around here," Pepper reminds her. "I wasn't going out in the field back then, so Bobbi was the only one. They got their macho thing on of not allowing her to do anything too dangerous, which she hated, for personal reasons."

"It's just a dangerous job," Natasha remarks. "Okay, let's be quiet for now."

It's quiet, as always. Every fucking night. Pepper has the ventail of her helmet up to see better, though Natasha still thinks it would impair her field of vision. They slip through the dark streets and alleys, listening mostly. Her senses don't go off, either. Sometimes, there's just nothing. Most times.

"Did they break up because of that?" Natasha whispers. "Because of work issues?"

Pepper leans against a wall, suit crunching the concrete slightly. "Yes. There was… I think there was always a vague expectation that Clint wanted to retire eventually, move somewhere quiet, have a family, that sort of thing. Bobbi didn't, at least not yet. So as long as the vampire situation got worse and worse, they were just not going to have that."

"What about you and Tony, though?" Natasha asks. "Are you going to retire?"

Pepper snorts softly. "No time soon. And that's okay. You know, we weren't together before this whole thing. I worked for him, actually. Vampires really turn everything on its head."

This is really hitting closer and closer home. "Let's move on."

They cross Arbesovo náměstí, passing an awful amount of rats. The nocturnal rodents really have field nights, when they know they can come out and not be disturbed. Vampires probably also think they're disgusting, so no danger from that side either. "There used to be a horror bar here," Pepper remarks. "For the tourists, brand new. Somehow, nobody finds that funny now."

"It's really quiet today," Natasha remarks. "Wanna move even further North?"

"Just a little," Pepper agrees. "I don't think we should get to Charles bridge."

"Let's move closer to the river," Natasha suggests.

They get almost to the French embassy, which is probably farther than Pepper wanted, when her hair begins to stand. She gives Pepper a sign so she closes the helmet, on alert. There's no sounds, no cars, no animal noises, yet she's sure there's something. They went too far, she's not as familiar with the area anymore. There's that wall with the graffiti, wrong direction, they slowly, carefully, quietly retreat. The shadows are dangerous around here. They turn the corner and there's a guy on the street, dressed black, just waiting for them. He has a jagged knife. Hunting party. Fuck .

The guy grins and another vampire slips out of the side alley, an ageless woman with curly black hair. There's only the way forward, blocked, and the way back, which would only bring them closer to the Castle. Two is manageable, even if they're from a hunting party, but who knows how many more there are. Pepper lifts an arm, ready to shoot, but this is really not a fight they want.

Maybe they can cross through to Kampa somehow, some small passage between the buildings, run, all the doors will be barred though, trying costs time they don't have. The vampire woman sneers at them, the other one joining, daring them. They're essentially cornered. "Smart ideas?" Natasha asks.

"You're just like Tony ," Pepper's mechanical voice hisses.

Swoosh.

The vampire startles, staring up at the roof where the black cloak has just landed. Doesn't look pleased. Doesn't look anything, really. The vampiress bares her fangs at him, which he returns, gold shining in the moonlight. She cowers, scared. The guy spits out. "Fine. Let's go."

They retreat slowly, not turning their back, then they hear them running off. More than two. Three, at least. Looking up, the black cloak is gone. Natasha exhales. " Fuck that guy."

"Do you want to see whether you can catch him?" Pepper asks. "I'll meet you on Střelecký ostrov."

"Deal," Natasha agrees. "I'll see you."

She walks a little South, tries Kampa, back North, passes the French embassy and the graffiti wall but no fucking sign. It's completely quiet, no vampires, no hunting parties, no nothing. Frustrated, she returns South and crosses the bridge halfway. Pepper's waiting down there. "Gone. Let's get back to Old Town."

Pepper's armor is quite loud on the stone stairs. "It looks like he doesn't want to meet you."

Natasha snorts. "Yeah, looks like I pissed him off last time. Come on, let's get back before they get their panties in a twist again."

  Kick punch twist.

"I'd worry less if you were less reckless," Clint grunts out.

Punch punch elbow strike. He hits her with an uppercut that she dodges easily. "Totally your responsibility," she breathes. "Taking care of me. Fuck you."

The double turning kick's not unexpected but it still throws her off balance. He raises his fists tauntingly. "You suck at it, though."

"I'm alive ," she returns, jumping at him and knocking him down. "Grow up. It's really-"

He tries to knock her off but she's too strong, pressing her knee into his chest until he groans and taps out. She gets up, swiping hair out of her sweaty forehead, catching her breath.

"Hey Romanoff," Tony remarks, strolling in. "Next time you go on a suicide trip, do it without my girlfriend, thank you."

She gives him the finger, grabbing a water bottle and downing that. Clint picks himself up slowly. "I'm serious," Tony repeats, leaning on the rope. "You really got us worried. Brucey almost went green when he heard."

She snorts, slipping out of the ring. "I get that one," Tony continues without the slightest care. "It just does something to a guy when he constantly has to fumble around your almost naked body. Can't blame him."

"Shut the fuck up," she hisses at him. "I swear to God, I'm murdering one of you sooner or later."

"Yeah," Clint remarks. "If you don't get killed first."

  She wanders around alone at night again, muttering under her breath like a crazy person. If he doesn't show up again, she swears to God. She decides to turn right before the Central Station towards Wenceslas Square.

The tower is pretty uncomfortable to be in right now and she was anxious to get out. Fury, to her surprise, didn't want anything from her, just saying that he trusts her judgment and her decisions. Unlike other people. And now she's out alone.

The black cloak's sitting on a bench on Wenceslas Square, uncharacteristically undramatic. She walks over. "Hi."

"Hi," he replies. "You're not going to decide in the next few days, are you."

She shakes her head. He sighs, closing his eyes. "I'll have to go back soon. Figure out what to tell them."

She sits down on the same bench. "Yeah. Thanks."

"He probably doesn't expect you to flip so soon anyway," he mutters. "You're a hunter after all. Not going to turn that around that quickly."

She moves a little closer. "Sure. But thanks, really, it… means a lot to me."

He grins suddenly. "Oh, I see what you're doing. No."

She reels back as if he slapped her. The smile drops from his face. "Oh."

She clears her throat, staring down at the cobblestone. "What are you going to tell them?"

"That you're stubborn as fuck but I'd give you another chance," he replies. "I hope you take it."

She doesn't reply. She could never turn into a vampire, could she? Become like him? A monster?

"Try not to get killed while I'm away," he adds. "Rumlow should know not to touch you but he can't always keep everyone in line."

"Fuck that guy," she mutters. "Do you go there? The Castle?"

"Sometimes," he admits. "They're different, though. I don't really fit in."

"Poor you," she remarks sarcastically. "No, really. What do you do all the time, when you're not stalking me?"

"Sleep," he says. "The whole day. At night, try to track down young vampires and vaguely follow you around."

"So you do sleep," she states. "A lot, too."

"Does that surprise you?" he asks. "I'm not dead, you know."

"Yeah, you kinda are, though," she points out. "No offense. I'll try not to die, too, promise."

"Well, good." He shifts. "I don't want you to get hurt."

She snorts. "Other than turning me into a monster, but okay. Do you remember that, turning? Anything?"

"I don't remember turning," he replies. "Too painful, I guess. I mostly remember after. Most of the time in hiding, I was sleeping, so it's not all that long ago for me."

"1993 was forever ago," she insists. "Trust me."

"Really changed your life, didn't it," he remarks.

"I was going to study to become an engineer," she blurts out. "Or a teacher. You know, when the Soviet Union started breaking, it was… it was super scary, the ground disappearing under your feet, but it was also hopeful, almost ecstatic. Everything suddenly seemed possible."

"Sorry, but I really can't imagine you as a teacher," he states. "Yeah. Including a vampire outbreak?"

She snorts. "Not that. I started studying English, to have all the possibilities that came with, and then in 1993, when the outbreak started… Everything gone. The year was tough already before, and suddenly there was no silver lining anymore. Like a war. And I joined a group of hunters, like a soldier."

"With Shostakov," he remarks. "And Petrovich."

He knows way too much. "We were going to get married," she explains. "Before. But then, that road shut down completely and we were just going to fight this war and probably die doing it. We found this group of Afghanistan veterans, including Ivan, some of the only people who really seemed to know what they were doing. They wouldn't take us at first, because we were oh so young and we had that supposedly bright future, but as matters got worse everywhere, they relented. So we never married and I got sterilized and… yeah, we fought. And then I killed him."

"I'm sorry," he says. "You know, I… I should probably tell you something."

Her ears start ringing. "What?"

He sighs. "I started the outbreak in Russia."

She starts laughing, shocked, stopping just as quick. "You what ?"

"When Schmidt decided the time was right," he explains hesitantly. "Everyone had their role. I was sent to Russia. I was ordered to Russia."

She bites her tongue accidentally. "How many?"

"What?" he asks uncomfortably.

"How many people did you bite?" she snaps. "How many people did you have to bite to ruin my life ? Everyone's life?"

He sighs. "Eight in Moscow. Four in Saint Petersburg. I thought that would be enough."

" Hell it was enough!" She shakes her head to clear it. "You really bit twelve people and that's why I could never have anything I wanted?"

It comes out more vulnerable than she wanted so she bites her tongue and shuts up. "There might have been others I don't know about," he admits quietly. "Are you… are you mad?"

"No," she returns, getting on her feet. "No. Yes. No. You know what, I- yes. I don't know. I think I'll go back."

He gets up as well. "Take care. Really."

Fuck you , she almost says. I wouldn't have to take care if not for you . "Yes. Uh. I'll go. Just- whatever."

She almost runs back to the tower.

  "You don't drink usually," Sam points out, sitting down on a chair like a normal person instead of lying down on the table with a bottle of vodka.

She continues staring up. "You ever wonder what would have happened if the vampire plague never happened?"

"Honestly," he remarks. "For me, probably nothing great. Why?"

"What did you wanna be?" she insists. "Come on, you must have had some idea."

"I don't know, I kind of wanted to do social work," Sam says. "Teaching or something with teenagers. Barely got my degree before there were other issues, though."

"I wanted to work," she says. "I wanted to have a family. I wanted everything . And instead I got this. "

"Oh," Sam remarks. "So you're doing self-pity. No, thanks, I really don't drink."

She snorts, rolling onto her side. "Can I tell you something without you accusing me of Stockholm syndrome or some bullshit?"

Sam snorts. "I'm not accusing you. I do feel obliged to point out potential biases you might have, though. But go on, I won't judge you."

"I kinda empathize with him," she admits. "But I wanna kill him so bad ."

Sam grins. "Okay. What's the occasion?"

"He literally infected all of Russia," she states. "Can you imagine? None of us would be here for any of this. It might be- not fairytales and pony parties but good. Calm. We wouldn't have to do this ."

"Totally fair to be mad about that," Sam acknowledges. "I should just point out that killing him now won't really change that and thus might not feel as satisfying as you hope. But, I mean, I'm not going to stop you."

She snorts, turning on her back again. "Yeah, I know. I can't, either. But man ."

"You'll figure it out," Sam assures her. "I'd also prefer being a street worker or something, but I guess you just have to deal with whatever comes your way. Can't dodge a vampire epidemic, to quote Fury."

She snorts, sitting up. "Oh yeah. Can't dodge an epidemic."

[painandpleasure86]

Burned all my energy (BreakyWeek2k19)

Author’s note: Hi ppl! This was for Day 4, but this last Thursday and Friday were so frenetic... I couldn’t post this before! Probably I’ll post for the last day... Thank u @runningfortocome​ for hosting this special week for this underrated ship and for supported me last Tues for the hateful anons.

Prompt for Day 4 that I choosed: “Back Chat/arguments in the studio”

Warnings: Angst and fluff.

Word count: +2.0k

Tag list: @warriorteam1924  @runningfortocome​

They love to each other. So much. But also argue a lot. Both have a big pride about their own opinion and that didn't helped at all. Not only in the studio, but also in the intimacy. At least in the last one scenario was always a lot easier to fix the things. Nothing like a special meal or something sexual couldn’t fix.

Record an album always was a challenge for the group. The four of them have different points of view about what to do. But the two of them were usually the worst. Fred always mediating, Roger always mocking to the couple. 

Around 1979, John showed to the group Another one bites the dust. He recorded bass, guitar, synths and claps as a demo. Meanwhile the group was listening it in the studio, Bri and Roger started to feel in disconform, mainly Roger. 

In a whisper, Roger told to Brian “please, if you want to say your disagree, be careful... despite that it’s so funny mocking him, i’m quite tired of both of you arguing”. Brian nodded.

Once the demo ended, Bri said to John with a kind smile "Nice song really, but..."

The youngest one started to feel the anger. Still in his chair, turned to them and he watched right to the hazel eyes of his man. Said sighing “ah shit here we go again ... always but. Nothing that I make likes you!”

Fred, half turned to Brian and John. Trying to calming the atmosphere, said with a cheeky face “You mean musically darling no?”, while winked and made some sexual gestures with his hands.

Brian watched at him pretty disgusting.

"That stuff it's irrelevant here" he said.

"It is Bri. Thanks to the gods that you're happy at bed, hehe." His blonde friend winked an eye. "If not, more hysteria. And the three of you are drama queens. Despite that's quite funny, sometimes it's tiring to see the three of you always discussing" throw Roger.

Bri, pretty done, almost screamed "oh okay, look at you, calling to us drama queens when you made a number for your song of the car some years ago!”

Roger started to be really irritated.

"That's your only argument! Change your cassette Bri!" yelled the blondie.

Fred stand up of his chair and puts between Bri and Rog, separating them with his hands. John just was covering his face trying to not say nothing. "That childish fight again…" he thought.

"Guys, quiet." said so calm.

They still watched to the another pretty upset.

"Relax, guys." continued the singer.

Looking at Roger, he said "the four we're hysterical queens in a some way… But just a real one, ha!" Roger smiled. 

Fred turned his face now to Bri.

"Now you can continue with your opinion about John's song."

Bri started to talk, but Fred interrupted him.

"First, something more Bri". His hands leaved the chest of his friends and walked near John to grab his shoulders, which was on one side watching all the scene. He ducked his head in direction of the face of the bassist.

"And you, darling… don't interrupt to Brian and start to argue again. Let the man speak".

Deaks looked at his friend and sighed deeply.

"Okay, Fred."

Looking at his lover "I'll not yell this time, love." He stand up of his chair. Fred was behind John now. The bassist walked to his man and hugged him with his left arm. Watching to that hazel eyes and caressing the cheeks of the guitarist, continued speaking. "Go ahead." And he kissed him in the cheek. 

Brian watched at the bassist and smiled, slightly blushed.

The environment it's relaxed again.

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A couple of months later, The Game album was released. Another One Bites the Dust it's the most selled single. Bri and Roger should to recognize the ability of John there. And that was right  heeding to Michael Jackson that suggested to release that song as a single.

That album gave them tours for common lands to them like Japan, and visit for the very first time places like South America; where the band had an excellent and very warm reception from the fans. Where Another one bites the dust sounded in the discos and a lot of people enjoyed that funky vibe in the dance floor.

Even that song won the prize as Best Pop Single. Deaky and Rog were there to receive the prize. John, very happy. But Roger, pretty deceptioned "we are a rock band and we won a prize for best pop single? For God's sake…" he thoughts while they’re receiving the prize.

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Flash recording. Releasing. And now another recording, the album that would be named Hot Space. Now have even more argues and problems, the sound of this album its pretty away of the rockish sound of  the band. The experiment with AOBTD was successful, so, the funky and the (slowly dying) disco music took over the album concept. Even of that way, Brian and Roger could insert rockish songs or at least with powerful guitar riffs. Deaky and Fred must accepted that after a lot of argues, for maintain the good environment in the studio. Specifically, Deaky didn't wanted to have problems with his lover. They have already problems pretending being straights, until decide get out of the closet. He often just sighed deeply, pretending that everything's okay. But his patience was reaching it limit.

One night he couldn’t sleep. Changed a lot of time his position in bed. Deep breath didn't worked in him. He have a lot of angry inside. He needed to vent thru a song. 

He get up of the bed so quickly and was to the studio where he write his songs. In that studio he haves books that covered almost an entire wall, having infront a comfy couch. Next, the window and in front the desk. To the right side of the window, lied his Fender Precision Bass 1968, a keyboard and an acoustic guitar.   

In the studio, he grabbed paper, pen and sat in front of the desk to start to write. Isn't that often that him haves a suddenly inspo to write a full song. But that night was one of the examples. Back Chat born. Reading the paper, he though “I love you… but i’m tired of you complaining about my things and talk behind my back, my dear”.

Trying to not make a lot of noise, he grabbed his bass that are there. He connected to an amp and started to play a bassline. Meanwhile, he thought “I’ll be so funky, more than another one bites the dust… and you will not have your solo. If i can’t modify your arrangements, you will can’t modify this. Eat from your own medicine. I’m so patient, i’m so kind with you, but i’m also done.”

Next day at the studio, he came with that paper in one of his pockets. They entered like any day, but he have a little surprise…

Fred asked finally to him “well darling, do you have something to the new album?"

He extended the sheet to the singer. He has read. The face of Fred was a mix between laugh and confusion.

"My dear, who made you that damage?" finally said watching at the greenish eyes of his friend, curious.

He crossed his arms and "posed". That pose. That face. That smile.

"Don't matters" he said with a ironic voice, and his eyes focused in his lover. Bri watched at him so confused.

Roger, watching the scene and drinking a coffee, said "ha! Couple issues. That's fun guys… I love the drama between you! Thanks to God that I always haves some popcorn! That's better that any soup opera…

Despite the joke, the tension came back once again to the studio. And that just was the beginning. Because after that, Deaky specified that he will play also the guitar, keyboards and even a drum machine.

Bri and Roger started to be very upset. 

"Deaky, man, I love you… but trying to replace me? I'm the drummer! Despite all, I must to play that part!" said the blonde.

Bri, of course, reacted even worst. "Really… REALLY? What the actual fuck? Plus… YOU DON'T WANT A GUITAR SOLO? AND YOU WANT TO RECORD ALMOST ALL? Seriously, this isn't the way to speak about our problems!

Deaky watching to his face and yelling, said: "I'm so done of that attitude of you and more when we try to experiment new things… Always guitar riffs it's boring! Not always we should sound like rock music! Really… my patience it's done for today. Don't speak to me, even you Fred. I just want to be alone!!!"

He grab his things and started to leave the recording studio.

"You should to be alone for being so mean with me!" said Bri almost crying.

John sighed and turned back.

"Look Brian… we're a couple no? Learn to accept your part of the responsibility. I have patience, but isn't endless." he said in a serious tone.

He watched to Roger and Freddie.

"Guys, for today I don't want to work. I'll go to drink something perhaps. Don't try to catch me, please."

He sighed. "Sorry Fred."

And leaved the studio slamming the door.

The three of them tried to back to work. Brian couldn't really. He was crying and drinking a lot of beer. After some hours, he fell asleep in a couch, so drunk, so sad.

Similar scene was John. After a lot of drinks in a near bar and avoiding the occasionals fans trying to get an autograph, came back to the home where the four habits when they're recording an album.

Barely could close the door. His head hurts. His throat wanted to vomit. Walked as he could to the bathroom and threw in the toilet.

When he ended, he just wanted to go to bed.

Opened the door of the room… him was already in bed. And he almost started to cry, but he hadn't energies at all. Just gone to sleep, trying to not wake up to him.

---------------------------

Next morning, first in wake up was the guitarist. And he saw to the another one sleeping so deeply, snoring. He kissed him in the forehead and whispered "I still love you, funky man". And leaved the bed and the room. Moments later, John woke up and he find himself alone, with a hard hungover. He rubbed his eyes and said “ugh why I need to get out of this bed, i’m feeling so terrible”.

He took a bath. After choose his outift for that day and dressing, go to the kitchen to have some breakfast. He found the another three having a nice chat while they were taking their breakfast, until he entered to the kitchen to prepare some tea.

The three watched at him in silence preparing everything to his breakfast. When put the kettle to boil some water, he turned to his bandmates and ask “Who’s died that you’re in silence?”

“Are you better, darling?” Finally Fred says to Deacon.

He sighs deeply. “Yes and not. From the anger from yesterday… fine. But i’m still having a hungover and i’m hungry.” he says, touching his forehead and after his tummy.

Silence again.

Roger, after sipping of his cup of tea, look at John and says to his friend “c’mon mate”

He was confused. “What?”

Brian without rise his sight and moving the little spoon inside the cup of tea, said “an apologize, perhaps.” He sighed deeply and rise his head. Turns around still sat in his chair in Johns direction. “ Sorry for being rude with you yesterday.” added the guitarist.

He watched at him with tears in his eyes. The bassist ran to hug him so tightly.

“no, I’m the one that should apologize”. He caressed the curly hair with his left hand. Being near of the right ear of the guitarist, whispered “you will can have your damn solo if you want. You always get your way, haha”. Watched right to the face of his man, both hands holding that smiling face. He’s smiling too. “I love you”. “Me too my grumpy bassist”, added the elder one. And both kissed softly.

Roger and Fred watched the scene so happy to see that two happy again, until Roger watched to the cooker.

“Fred…? I should say it?” asked sipping his tea, quite cold.

Freddie watched to Roger and shaked his head. “Let them be happy for a moment” and giggled a little.

The water from the kettle was boiling intensely since a couple of minutes...

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If you liked this fic, reblogs are highly appreciated! -Lily

[verdigrisprowl]

Mar 20 Random Stream in a Room They Took Over at the Hospital - A League Of Their Own

Prowl continued to be unable to shut up. And now everybody knows he and Soundwave are dating. I mean, half of them already knew. But now they KNOW.

The crowd generally considered Whirl’s footrest to be a bit more obnoxious than usual.

NoodlesAtNight: *Soundwave's projecting this on a blank wall and he's gathered a bunch of seats together. The hospital staff can deal with it.* Prowl: *an escaped patient has claimed a chair against the back wall. he's got a temporary patch over his right optic, but at least his left one is mostly functional again* Prowl: *the doctors probably didn't authorize this excursion, but Hook did and Prowl's bored, and that's good enough. NoodlesAtNight: *Is certainly not going to tattle on him.* terminatedApathy: *He finds the location to be a strange, but intriguing choice. Shockbox nods to Soundwave after entering and moving over to some seat a safe distance from the projection.* Chillsins: Spoopy. Chillsins: *Slinks in* NoodlesAtNight: *Bobs his helm and settles down by Prowl. It may not be a couch but he's taking this opportunity, damn it.* NoodlesAtNight: [[Greetings Windchill, Shockwave.]] terminatedApathy: Greetings. Chillsins: You guys know we might get germs, right? Prowl: The germs are your problems. I've been here a week. I've caught all the germs I'm likely to catch. NoodlesAtNight: [[That's why you update your firewalls.]] terminatedApathy: (( Ah, there's the video.)) terminatedApathy: (( Had to refresh.)) Prowl: *glances at Soundwave* ... I'm going to touch your hand. NoodlesAtNight: ((i'll give it about 10m longer before starting, 's a longish movie)) terminatedApathy: ((Ah, alright.)) Prowl: *they've fixed his hearing and improved his vision but they haven't done anything about his broken brain-to-mouth filter yet.* NoodlesAtNight: *Glances over with the tiniest ! on his screen. Oh so calmly turns his arm to make his hand available.* NoodlesAtNight: [[You were missed, Windchill. Ill lately?]] Prowl: *very lightly laces the tips of his fingers between the tips of Soundwave's* Prowl: ... I am touching your hand. Good. terminatedApathy: *Had been questioning Prowl and Soundwave's relationship for a while, but this is too blatant for even /him/ to miss.* terminatedApathy: *Isn't going to remark upon it.* chronosmith: *comes in just in time to have a Youtube ad question whether he's pregnant or not* ....... NoodlesAtNight: *Boy, that's gonna be hard to explain if/when Shockwave ever does. But since everyone already knows, he carefully squeezes the fingertips with his AND DOES NOT READ ANYTHING* Prowl: ((whirl's got such a motherly figure)) chronosmith: ((The youtube ad Knows)) terminatedApathy: *Just makes a barely audible 'hm' and focuses on the ridiculous display being projected.* terminatedApathy: *He can't imagine his Soundwave dancing like this.* Chillsins: Me? Sick? Chillsins: Yeah kinda. NoodlesAtNight: *He can. He sees them in his club now and then. They trade secrets.* Chillsins: *He's going to sit towards the back where the shadow of his enormous head won't interfere with the projector.* NoodlesAtNight: *Well, not Shockwave's in particular. But others.* chronosmith: *trots over to a table and claims it as his own. ...by just sitting at it really he's not done anything Weird to it* terminatedApathy: *Well, he's never attended a club with his Soundwave either. Shockbox is ignorant to his Soundwave's true dancing capabilities.* chronosmith: ((aight brbr food time)) NoodlesAtNight: ((7 minutes and it's go)) Chaoit: m'kay!)) Chaoit: -wonderful timing for him to enter- NoodlesAtNight: *Doesn't regret it at all.* Chaoit: -THANKS- Chaoit: ....I should be used to these by now, but I don't think I will ever be. Chillsins: *Winces a little.* NoodlesAtNight: [[He would be surprised if any of you were.]] Prowl: I'm a little bit used to them. But not very. Chaoit: True, these are a bit...uh...odd? Strange? Chillsins: *Ah, so they're being tormented DELIBERATELY. He should have known.* terminatedApathy: (( Rabbit crashed. 8'] )) Chaoit: Entertaining, yeah, but...? NoodlesAtNight: *Yes, you should have.* NoodlesAtNight: ((And welcome back Shockbox)) Prowl: It's weird seeing soldiers across faction lines dancing together. Chillsins: You must not get out much... Chaoit: Yeah Prowl: I would suspect there's no war in their timeline, but they're all clearly wearing their brands. Prowl: No, I know that lower-ranked soldiers often interact amicably. The less-committed Autobots and less-committed Decepticons. Chaoit: ...yeah, the Jazz from mine would have already made several attempts to murder the 'cons. Chillsins: What the heck is that supposed to mean? Prowl: But the people featured in these videos tend to be very highly ranked officers, and the most zealously committed to their respective causes. Chaoit: The dancing thing Chaoit: It wouldn't happen Chaoit: Period Prowl: What the heck is what supposed to mean? I don't know which of us you'e replying to. Chillsins: *Time to pay attention, he missed what sort of movie they were watching this time.* terminatedApathy: Back to human documentaries, I see. NoodlesAtNight: [[Yes. He has no other tales of his own timeline to tell.]] Prowl: That's a baseball glove! She plays baseball. Is this a movie about baseball or is it an incidental reference to baseball? terminatedApathy: What is 'base ball'? Prowl: Baseball is a sport from Earth that's highly enjoyable to watch. Chillsins: It's when you're balls deep in your base Prowl: That's not what baseball is. Chillsins: It is TOTALLY balls deep. NoodlesAtNight: *Soundwave places a baseball on his visor. He accepted Eject's suggestion through Frenzy with a certain seat partner in mind.* terminatedApathy: *clearly confused* Balls....deep... terminatedApathy: Mm. Prowl: It's a movie about baseball. I am happy. Chillsins: I'm not a liar. Prowl: I like baseball. Chillsins: I'm practically an Earth expert by now. chronosmith: ((AIGHT BACK. c'mon rabbit i need u to cooperate)) Chillsins: I think I know what baseball is. Prowl: You're lying and I know because I know what baseball is. I enjoy watching it. The Chicago Cubs won last year. They're my team. Prowl: By which I mean they're the team I root for. I don't own them. Chillsins: Or maybe you're lying. Prowl: I am not lying. Prowl: This movie is about baseball. It will demonstrate what the game is. Chillsins: Not if the movie is lying, too. chronosmith: Hey, 'Chill. Take it easy on him. terminatedApathy: *Taking Prowl for his word. Nods politely at the Autobot.* chronosmith: If Prowl seems off, it's 'cos he is. He's got a pole in his head. That's the brain damage talking. Prowl: You're being disagreeable and throwing up hypotheticals to try to frustrate me by arguing against senseless claims. Chaoit: Pole? Chaoit: Wait, pole? Chillsins: Exactly. chronosmith: Yes. You got those, where you come from? Chillsins: I'm darned good at it, too. Crosscut: ((Its working~!)) Prowl: I got the pole out of my head. *points at the patch over his right optic* But my optic is still embedded in my head and putting pressure on my brain module. NoodlesAtNight: [[There was a pole there. It's gone now.]] chronosmith: ((oh, whoops. Is Prowl here in person?)) Crosscut: -Pokes head in before entering- Hello..Sorry if I'm a tad late. Prowl: (yes. we are in The Hospital.) Chillsins: Sounds gruesome. Prowl: (took over a waiting room to project a movie on a wall.) NoodlesAtNight: [[Greetings, Crosscut.]] chronosmith: ((HAHA WHOOPS... GJ ME)) Chillsins: (Windchill is here collecting germs with his butt.) Prowl: ((IT'S OKAY)) Chaoit: Yeah, but...yikes chronosmith: *IN THAT CASE instead of sitting at a table he's sprawled in 1 1/2 chairs* chronosmith: Oh, right. Yes. HAD a pole. chronosmith: hey, now we've got THREE cyclopes in the room. Nice. Chaoit: HAD a pole in his... chronosmith: ...I know you said your eye is still in there but it might as well be gone. Chillsins: Some beautiful overacting here. I love it. NoodlesAtNight: *Places a single optic on his screen.* Prowl: Technically I still have a pole. Hold on. chronosmith: You don't count, Soundwave. Crosscut: ((Who is Guste?)) Crosscut: *Guest Chillsins: *He's just not going into a pole-comparing contest right now.* NoodlesAtNight: ((Prowl)) Prowl: ((yeah I changed my name but it didn't stick)) NoodlesAtNight: *Soft laughter huffing at Whirl* Prowl: ((to me, YOU'RE guest too. 0u0)) chronosmith: ((yeah you're showing as Guest for me, too, CC)) NoodlesAtNight: [[You still have a pole?]] Crosscut: ((Huh, I changed it too. Guess it doesn't really work)) Prowl: *arches to reach over his shoulder and under his back kibble* Yes. chronosmith: *glances Soundwave's way, amused and a bit surprised by the laugh, but quickly turns his attention to the Prowl* chronosmith: What're you gonna do with it? Prowl: Here. *pulls it out. it is the pipe.* Chaoit: ........... NoodlesAtNight: *Vaguely startled if the puff of his armor is anything to go by* Chillsins: *Makes eye contact with the nipples.* Crosscut: ((Is Prowl really here or hologram Prowl?)) NoodlesAtNight: [[You kept it?]] NoodlesAtNight: ((Prowl is really here)) Prowl: ((prowl's really here)) Prowl: ((we are in The Hospital)) Crosscut: ((Oh?)) Prowl: *one end is slightly crumpled and stained with dried... better not think about it.)) Chaoit: You kept the pole Prowl: I kept the pole. chronosmith: Why wouldn't he? NoodlesAtNight: [[....Why?]] terminatedApathy: (( Capitalizing its name makes it sound as if we're in Awful Hospital.)) Crosscut: ((Who was in the hospital that we're supposedly visiting?)) Prowl: ((Prowl was. he got a pipe embedded in his face.)) chronosmith: ((Prowl)) Chillsins: *Points* Chillsins: Cows. Prowl: ((it's out now. he's showing it off.)) Crosscut: ((Oh god!)) Chaoit: -facepalms- Prowl: ((he's got a patch over his right optic and his face is kinda messed up on that side)) Prowl: I don't really know. It seemed like a good idea. NoodlesAtNight: [[...He supposes it is evidence for the investigation.]] chronosmith: You should frame it. Prowl: This thing almost killed me. And you know how the phrase goes, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Crosscut: ((Can I re-enter then now that I know the circumstances? )) terminatedApathy: *Casually observing the pipe. He's seen worse.* chronosmith: *snickers* NoodlesAtNight: ((sure!)) Prowl: That was a joke. I made a joke. I hope it was a successful joke. Prowl: ((go ahead)) chronosmith: You did. Chaoit: -snickers- NoodlesAtNight: *Soundwave's trembling a bit. It was a good joke.* Chaoit: It was good. Crosscut: -Comes in, spotting Prowl and quickly making his way over to the injured mech- Prowl: Crosscut. Hello. Did you come to visit? A lot of people have been coming to visit. I'm popular. NoodlesAtNight: ((a whole field of whirls)) chronosmith: ((everyone's nightmare)) Crosscut: -Smiles- Of course!...Here I brought you some reading material. Sorry I didn't visit sooner. Crosscut: By the sounds of your tone, I trust you're heavily medicated at the moment? Prowl: It's okay. You're on a ship, you're busy. I understand. Your duties are important. Prowl: No, I'm not heavily medicated. A lot of people think I am. Whirl thought I was. My right optic is still inside my head and putting pressure on my brain module. Crosscut: Oh...Oh my.. Crosscut: Are you in, pain? Prowl: No, I turned my pain receptors off right after the injury. Crosscut: I see, what h-..Oh, may I sit here with you? Prowl: Yes. I would like it if you sit with me. Crosscut: -Takes a seat before further inquiring- Crosscut: So, may I ask what happened? Prowl: Someone was using a buzzsaw incorrectly and it launched a pipe at my face. NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): Crosscut does not know. Prowl may let go if necessary. Chillsins: *Snorts.* Prowl: Does not know what? NoodlesAtNight: *Answers with tiny squeeze. Please, Primus, he doesn't ask much. Give Prowl the sense to either let go or say something relatively nonrevealing.* Prowl: The manager is mean. Prowl: ... Oh. yes. I should let go. chronosmith: Pipes: *EVEN MORE FASHIONABLY LATE THAN CROSSCUT; he skids in* Prowl! Prowl: *very subtly lets go and pulls his hand back. Or it WOULD be subtle if he hadn't, y'know, said he was going to do it.* NoodlesAtNight: [[Greetings, Pipes.]] NoodlesAtNight: *So close, and yet, so far.* chronosmith: Pipes: Hey, mech! Prowl, they got it out! *immediately trots up to him, pauses, when he spots the movie, and whispers* Oh, sorry guys. NoodlesAtNight: [[Ah. The rude human is leaving? Good.]] Chillsins: *SPUTTERS* Chillsins: A pickle tickle... NoodlesAtNight: *The innuendo flies RIGHT over his head.* NoodlesAtNight: *And he quietly turns his hand back to face himself. It's disappointing, but... he knows what he agreed to.* Prowl: Pipes. Hello Pipes. Soundwave and Crosscut are already sitting with me. You should sit in front of me. Prowl: Yes. They got the pipe out. *holds it up. observe.* Crosscut: ((Ok, I can see the chat but not the screen, I guess that'll have to do.)) chronosmith: Oh! ...you kept it. Well. Neat. chronosmith: ((that was pipes ofc)) Crosscut: -He's a bit confused about the exchange that just happened but before he has tome to ask Pipes is skidding into the room- Chillsins: *Briefly glances at Pipes, and the pipe. He's overheard enough that he might as well look.* Prowl: Yes. I kept it. I don't know why. It seemed like the thing to do. chronosmith: Pipes: Oh, sure, as long as I won't be in your way, mech. *he will take a moment to wave at Windchill, too* Chillsins: *Waves at Pipes, and the pipe. Amazing.* Crosscut: -CC smiles and greets Pipes quickly in an alien language the two had been studying- Prowl: The pipe almost killed me, and they do say "keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Prowl: Everyone said the joke was good so I'm telling it to you too. Crosscut: And...When, exactly did they say they'd be fixing that little optic issue of your's? chronosmith: Pipes: *snickers* Heh, they were right! *and as he sits down, crossing his legs on the floor, he twists and returns Crosscut's greeting in the same alien dialect* Crosscut: -happily claps at Pipes' reply, glad to see he's remembering the information- Prowl: In the next couple of days. chronosmith: Pipes: Well, I hope it goes smoothly, Prowl. *half-reaches up, catches himself* Mind if I pat your knee? Is that all right? Crosscut: I see, I do hope it won't cause you any distress or discomfort. Crosscut: I'll be sure to visit again when I get the chance. chronosmith: Whirl: *snickers* chronosmith: Whirl: That girl knows what she's about. ...also I can think of a few people who'd benefit from a trip to charm school. Chillsins: *Looks innocent.* NoodlesAtNight: [[And who might they be?]] NoodlesAtNight: *Other than, say, Whirl?* Chaoit: .... Chaoit: That looks like a pain Prowl: I'm already distressed and discomforted. Crosscut: Oh dear, my apologies Prowl: It's not your fault. It's because I have an optic in my head and can't control what I'm saying. Crosscut: Really though, if there is anything I can do to help please feel free to ask. Crosscut: I feel awful I didn't hear about this sooner chronosmith: Whirl: *hey, he possesses the ability to behaving "gracefully and grandly." Just not the inclination* Let's see,,, my old nemesis, Killmaster, for starters. The buggest, most ungraceful creature I've ever seen in my life. Prowl: It's okay. It wasn't your fault. Prowl: But a lot of people did hear about it. I was surprised. They were concerned. chronosmith: (( * biggest)) Chillsins: (( I still approve of buggest)) chronosmith: Whirl: Him. *gestures to Windchill* Teach might benefit. I mean, I like Teach but if he wants to, y'know, interact with people who AREN'T half as crazy as he is... then it might be beneficial. Crosscut: Really? I'm not, you're well liked at least on our ship, Prowl. Chaoit: ....... Chaoit: right, uh...that's...no chronosmith: Pipes: *will take that as a "no," and lowers his hand, settling in to watch* terminatedApathy: *Has to avert his eye* Crosscut: Well...not by everyone, but more than one might guess. Chillsins: *Turns to blow a kiss at Whirl.* terminatedApathy: *What the hell, humans.* Prowl: No I'm not. Three people in the crew like me. Chillsins: I'm the most graceful creature you've never seen, chronosmith: Whirl: *pantomimes catching it, and then slapping it on the chair, where he sits on it* Prowl: Admittedly, three people in a crew of over two hundred is pretty good for me. terminatedApathy: *Primus, it's over.* Chillsins: *GASPS, places a hand on his chest. OFFENDED.* chronosmith: Whirl: *blinks* I just winked. Figured I'd help you tell. Crosscut: Not true, I can think of at least four Chillsins: *Squints.* NoodlesAtNight: [[What does Killmaster look like?]] Prowl: You, Pipes, Getaway. Who's the fourth one? Crosscut: ((Tom Hanks pees in movies a lot..)) Crosscut: Hoist doesn't have any issue with you that I know of. chronosmith: Whirl: Imagine, the only being alive uglier than me. He's also HUGE. He's like four times my size. And he has... a little wand. Prowl: Oh. Does he like me? I thought he was only neutral. NoodlesAtNight: [[A... wand.]] chronosmith: ((Hoist worked w/Prowl and found him to be perfectly agreeable)) Chillsins: Is that a euphemism, Whirl. Crosscut: And what about Whirl? He's here to visit is he not? chronosmith: Whirl: I'm here because I'm bored. I don't like Prowl. Prowl: Whirl dislikes me and doesn't respect me. I think he came for the movie. chronosmith: Whirl: See? He got it in one. Crosscut: ((Pfft)) chronosmith: Whirl: And, amazingly, Windchill, no. It isn't. He has a literal wand that he uses to kill people. Chillsins: Wow. Crosscut: Ah... Crosscut: -this isn't going well.- Chillsins: I've never even heard of the like. NoodlesAtNight: [[Hmph. Cheating.]] Crosscut: Well, you have quality over quantity. Prowl: I've noticed a pattern. *points at movie* Male humans are disproportionately rude and disrespectful to female humans. Why? chronosmith: Pipes: Hey, mech, I'm sure there are plenty of other people who'll be happy to hear you're all right! Y Crosscut: Its actually pretty universal in their culture, sadly. NoodlesAtNight: *Listens in. He is curious about this himself.* Crosscut: Males are many times seen as the more superior of the two for some odd reason. Prowl: I do have other friends. They're just not on the ship. Soundwave likes me and he came. And Tarantulas. And all the Constructicons, although they didn't have a choice and I don't like them. Crosscut: Pipes is correct though, I didn't like you at first. Getting to know you was a pleasure though, and now I quite enjoy your company! Prowl: And Jazz hasn't come but he's probably just very busy, because I know he likes me. NoodlesAtNight: *What in Primus' name does coffeemaking have to do with baseball.* Prowl: I liked you at first. Prowl: The reporter isn't talking about their baseball abilities at all. Prowl: Stop talking about their cooking and coffee and give me their batting averages. I want statistics. Crosscut: Hah, well thank you, Prowl. chronosmith: Pipes: *considers* You seemed pretty cool to me right off the bat, Prowl. Even if you didn't believe me about the samples, heh. Chaoit: ...ugh Prowl: Samples are amazing. It's an astounding economic model. They hand out food for free. chronosmith: Whirl: *shudders* Enough with the spitting, good Lord. NoodlesAtNight: [[Why is he spitting oral lubricants everywhere. This human is disgusting.]] Chillsins: I can spit too, you know. chronosmith: Whirl: *snorts and shoots a sidelong look to Soundwave* NoodlesAtNight: [[Please do not.]] chronosmith: Whirl: I'm regrettably aware. Chillsins: *Looks insufferably smug* chronosmith: Pipes: Yeah! It's an unusual business strategy, but it works better than you'd think it would. And you won't find better places for free food than the strips at Hedonia. Prowl: I like free food. Crosscut: -chuckles, this more loopy Prowl is kind of adorable- chronosmith: Pipes: What's there not to like, heh? Prowl: That's a good question. There's probably something not to like. But I can't think of anything. terminatedApathy: (( Oh. terminatedApathy: That was only part /one/?)) chronosmith: Whirl: Don't you give me that look. Chaoit: ((oh boy terminatedApathy: (( Of /four/.)) NoodlesAtNight: ((it's a two hour movie)) terminatedApathy: (( Ah alright, two hours.)) Chillsins: *Looks more smug. Flicks his tongue, even.* terminatedApathy: ((That's doable.)) Crosscut: So, besides the injury how has your time in the hospital been, Prowl? chronosmith: *shakes his head* Prowl: It's been boring. I wasn't able to see or hear for the first couple of days. Chillsins: *Traitor.* Crosscut: Oh, how awful. Prowl: But I've had a lot of visitors. And my holomatter avatar can still see, so I went to some movies. NoodlesAtNight: *This looks damned entertaining.* Crosscut: That's good, I'm sure it won't be long till you're completely on your feet again! chronosmith: Whirl: *he has to admit, this style of dance looks pretty damn fun* Prowl: They're very good at dancing. I'm not good at dancing. chronosmith: Whirl: Ha! That sounds like my style. Crosscut: I can say for a fact that's not true, Prowl. Chillsins: *That looks way too intense for him.* NoodlesAtNight: [[That remains to be seen.]] Crosscut: Don't even try to lie about it chronosmith: Pipes: I've seen you dancing! You're pretty good, Prowl! Better than me, at least. Prowl: I hope I'm completely recovered soon. Right now all the evidence suggests that I don't have permanent damage to the important parts of my processor. NoodlesAtNight: *So Pipes and Crosscut have seen it? Maybe he can get footage from them somehow.* chronosmith: ((wasn't SW there?)) NoodlesAtNight: ((nooooope)) chronosmith: ((it was during an infomercial night)) chronosmith: ((omg)) Prowl: You were both drunk at the time, you aren't good judges of my dancing. chronosmith: ((THE ONE TIME HE MISSED IT...)) chronosmith: Pipes: Pfft, I wasn't DRUNK. I was a little bit tipsy. It takes more than a couple of hours of straight to drinking to get ME drunk. Prowl: You were too tipsy to judge my dancing skills accurately. Crosscut: I don't recall being drunk at the time. chronosmith: Pipes: If I wasn't too tipsy to pronounce "Shoshtakovich" then I wasn't too drunk to judge your dancing NoodlesAtNight: [[He would prefer to see for himself.]] Prowl: Some people lose their ability to speak properly later than others. chronosmith: Pipes: Well, I'm a hauler, not an orator, so obviously I don't. chronosmith: Whirl: Quick way to solve this problem would be to knock the deadbeat coach out. Chillsins: *Snickers.* Chillsins: I approve of whatever she's reading. Crosscut: Pffft Prowl: I would prefer you not to see for yourself because until you see you can imagine I'm good at dancing. chronosmith: Pipes: Hey, it's not bad if it keeps her interested! Chillsins: *Also that she's reading, but erotica is A+ okay.* Crosscut: Don't believe it, he really is quite good. Chillsins: Wow. Prowl: He deserves to get fired as their manager. He's abusive and incompetent. He treats people like dirt and then blames them for reacting like they've been treated like dirt. chronosmith: Pipes: Agreed! chronosmith: Pipes: Though I... have a sinking feeling he's going to get "redeemed" somehow. I really hope they don't make him a romantic lead... Chillsins: *Sighs.* Crosscut: Sadly that's usually the way these films go.. Prowl: I hope not. That would be gross. He doesn't deserve any of these players. They're wonderful and he's scum. chronosmith: Pipes: Yep. Chillsins: That looks like it hurt. chronosmith: Whirl: That ain't hard. Chillsins: Humans are squishy and they scrape easily. chronosmith: *snickers* I like her strategy. chronosmith: ((....that was whirl)) NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): Soundwave prefers Prowl, not imagination. This, same regardless of dance skill. Interest unchanged, remains open if Prowl's mind changes. chronosmith: Whirl: It works a lot better when you have guns attached to your "bosoms," though. Chillsins: ...The bosom strategy? Prowl: Even if I'm bad at dancing? Because I am. Chillsins: *Looks contemplative, at least.* chronosmith: Whirl: The very same. NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): Even if. Prowl: I get the steps correct but it has no emotional expression. chronosmith: Whirl: *glances over briefly; he knows very well that is probably the exact same issue his dancing has. Too technical, no feeling* Crosscut: Well the type of dancing I've seen you do usually aren't the sort known for that sort of thing anyhow. NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): Still acceptable. However, further discussion holds until Prowl brain module not stressed. Reassurance intended only. chronosmith: Whirl: Maybe you should try something that's faster, then. Something more about moving quick than having those, y'know, slow and graceful movements. Prowl: The type of dancing you've seen be doing is the type I was told I was bad at because I have no emotional expression. NoodlesAtNight: [[It pleases him to see these humans gathering larger crowds now.]] Prowl: My brain module isn't stressed right now—more than normal. I'm not thinking particularly intellectual thoughts right now. Chillsins: *Snorts.* chronosmith: Pipes: *sighs* Crosscut: I don't think its bad....you calling that bad is calling MY dancing bad, Prowl. Crosscut: Its the only sort I can do without tripping over my big feet. Prowl: I'm unqualified to judge other people's dancing. Prowl: How would being quick help? Quick dances require emotion too. Crosscut: Mhmm, sure. Chillsins: Is that a weed? chronosmith: Whirl: Slow dancing really... shows it more. You notice when someone's movements are exact, instead of graceful, when they move slowly and stuff. chronosmith: Whirl: Now, I'm not an expert or anything, I'm not a dance instructor, but it seems to be that if you've got trouble really showing it, y'know, that you FEEL it, then something that's more focused on fast, precise movement would sort of place emphasis OFF the emotion, and more on the technical ability. NoodlesAtNight: [[Human advertisements leave him to believe the drink is a distillation of coal or crude oil.]] Chillsins: It's rhinoceros sweat, actually. Chillsins: I know, I'm an Earth expert. chronosmith: Pipes: ...humans don't drink rhinoceros sweat! Chaoit: I have a feeling you say that when you know no one is gonna buy what your selling Chaoit: *you're Chillsins: They totally do drink exotic animal sweat. chronosmith: Pipes: This fella with the glasses is more responsible and good to the girls than their quote-unquote coach. Chaoit: Try that again, I swear I can keep a straight face Chillsins: I swear that humans drink rhino sweat. Chillsins: Recreationally. chronosmith: Pipes: Okay, maybe. I'll grant it. But I have yet to see any instance of mass-marketed rhinoceros sweat. Chaoit: -snorts in laughter- Prowl: ... Maybe faster dancing, then. I don't know. I don't think that would help. I think I would be bad at any speed. chronosmith: Pipes: If they do, it's gotta be a niche market. Chaoit: Sorry, my bad, couldn't do it Chillsins: You callin' me a liar? Chaoit: Yep Prowl: Pipes, you shouldn't believe anything he says. He lies about humans and I've never heard him say anything that was accurate about them. chronosmith: Pipes: No...? chronosmith: Whirl:  Maybe. Like I said, I'm no expert. Chillsins: I've lived among humans for YEARS. Chillsins: I know what I'm talking about. Prowl: He probably lies about other things too, but humans are the ones I know about. Chaoit: So? Chaoit: Doesn't mean you're being honest chronosmith: Pipes: It's just--I had assumed you were mistaken. But then again, I don't know much about the humans in your dimension...? *looks to Prowl, and then to Windchill* Chillsins: If you can't prove it, doesn't count. Chaoit: And can you? chronosmith: *well. he trusts Prowl, but he also considers Windchill a friend* Windchill, are you telling me the truth? IS rhinoceros sweat a mass-marketed beverage? Chillsins: If you challenge me then the burden of proof is on you, bud. Crosscut: -stretches out a bit- Chillsins: That's okay though, I'll go easy on you. Chillsins: I've never told the truth in my LIFE. NoodlesAtNight: *That whisper train looks like his home.* Prowl: Whirl's footrest likes making wild claims inaccurate claims to try to frustrate the people who know what they're talking about by trying to prove him wrong. chronosmith: Pipes: So you WERE lying? Chillsins: I'm always lying. chronosmith: Whirl: *bursts out in an abrupt bark of poorly-modulated laughter at "Whirl's footrest"* Chillsins: There's a whole meme about it. Prowl: The only appropriate response is to ignore his claims entirely and not entertain him by arguing with him. chronosmith: Whirl: Look, Windchill. Prowl knows your place. Chillsins: *POINTS ACCUSINGLY AT WHIRL. TRAITOR.* Prowl: And ask people who aren't him for the truth if you have doubts. Chaoit: Eh. It was entertaining chronosmith: Pipes: *sighs* Chillsins: And yet, here I am, sitting all by myself. Chillsins: I've rebelled. chronosmith: Pipes: *he just nods, rests his chin in his hand, and watches the movie* Chillsins: I don't see why most of you don't find it funny. Chillsins: *He does, he's still LYIN'* chronosmith: Whirl: *gestures to the 1/2 chair he's occupying in addition to his own, which has his feet in it* I've replaced you, for now. Chillsins: *Sticks his tongue out at Whirl.* chronosmith: Pipes: I'm going to make a prediction that I HOPE doesn't come true--now that they've killed off her husband, which I kind of suspected, she's going to get with Tom Hanks' character. Prowl: Gross. chronosmith: Pipes: I know. Prowl: Oh. chronosmith: Pipes: Oh! chronosmith: Pipes: GOOD. I am happy to be wrong. Chillsins: That's really not better. chronosmith: Pipes: Well, obviously no. I'd never be happy that someone lost their loved one in a war. Prowl: Either way somebody's loved one dies. chronosmith: Pipes: *has, in fact, been in this precise situation* I'm just talking about the course of the narrative. Chaoit: ........ Prowl: But either somebody's loved one does; or, somebody's loved one dies and the jerk of a manager is rewarded for being a jerk by getting to date a character who's too good for him. Prowl: So this way is better. chronosmith: Pipes: Agreed. Chillsins: Only from a narrative standpoint. chronosmith: Pipes: ...yes? Crosscut: ((Im back)) chronosmith: Pipes: That's exactly what we're talking about...? NoodlesAtNight: *Tilts his helm. They had even less personal informing by mid-war...* Chillsins: I know what you're talking about. Prowl: Yes. We are talking about the narrative of the movie. As long as somebody has to die, at least a jerk isn't going to get rewarded in the process. Crosscut: -is a sucker for sappy stuff like this though- chronosmith: Pipes: *stares at Windchill, baffled. He'd always thought they'd gotten along, and he has no idea why he's giving him such a hard time tonight* Prowl: I don't want any of the baseball players to be unhappy, but I also do not want that awful manager to be made happy by one of the girls. He doesn't deserve them. chronosmith: Whirl: *SNICKERS* NoodlesAtNight: [[Avoid clapping?]] NoodlesAtNight: [[...Is this a human superstition?]] Prowl: I don't know what avoid the clap is. Based on his character, it's probably crude. chronosmith: Whirl: *I* know this one. ...wait, you don't? chronosmith: Whirl:  Wait a moment. Let me soak this in. It's not every day I know something Soundwave doesn't. Let me just... bask. For a second. Chillsins: I don't think his unhappiness should outweigh their happiness, that's all. That's just spiteful. chronosmith: Whirl: *deep, satisfied breath* ... it's slang for a venerial disease. Prowl: It doesn't outweigh their happiness. Prowl: But one player will be unhappy no matter what because her husband will be dead. NoodlesAtNight: *Venereal disease? Venereal... oh. OH.* Prowl: "one dead husband" and "one dead husband plus the manager getting an unjust reward" both involve "one dead husband." chronosmith: Pipes: And I'm talking more in terms of the story itself, regardless of happiness or unhappiness. Just, whether or not it's put-together well. NoodlesAtNight: [[Ah. Interface viruses. He sees.]] Crosscut: Who's husband died? Chillsins: Maybe you should stop thinking about it as a reward for him, then. NoodlesAtNight: [[The Betty human's.]] chronosmith: Whirl: *nods* Crosscut: Ah. Prowl: That's how fictional movie narratives are framed. NoodlesAtNight: [[That is a strange name for one. He hopes it is not descriptive of a symptom.]] Prowl: If a good thing happens to a character at the end of the movie, the narrative treats it like it's a reward for the character that they deserve for doing a good job. chronosmith: Pipes: Well, I mean, you kind of have to, right? If the narrative rewards him, then it's a reward. I certainly wouldn't be this spiteful of REAL people. chronosmith: ((first whirl and soundwave hivemind. Now prowl and pipes)) chronosmith: ((it's catching)) chronosmith: Whirl:  I couldn't tell you, one way or the other. ...that'd be a hell of a thing though, right? Just. Uncontrollable clapping. Chillsins: ((Then there's Windchill, perpetual butthead outlier. )) Prowl: I don't want to talk to you. Somebody else talk to me so that I can stop thinking about him and talk about something different. Chillsins: *Shrugs.* chronosmith: Whirl: I'll talk to you about venereal diseases, Prowl. Prowl: Okay. chronosmith: Whirl: ...I already told Soundwave everything I know, actually. Crosscut: I'd rather not hear that.. Chillsins: What are they looking at? Prowl: I only have one venereal disease. chronosmith: Whirl: I don't really... know much about them. Chillsins: That's so weird. chronosmith: Whirl: ...oh? Prowl: And at least it's the harmless one. NoodlesAtNight: ((god i know prowl can't help himself but JEEZ)) Crosscut: You aren't talking about.. NoodlesAtNight: ((i'm laughing)) Prowl: And I'm only barely sparkly. chronosmith: Whirl: Um. chronosmith: Pipes: ...oh! Oh, I know what you're talking about. Prowl: So that's good. But I'd rather not glitter at all. NoodlesAtNight: [[Ah. The glittering crotch virus.]] chronosmith: Pipes: *gives a little laugh* Leave it to Rodimus, right? NoodlesAtNight: [[He remembers hearing about that.]] Prowl: Apparently. Although I didn't get it from him. chronosmith: Whirl: I have no idea what any of you are talking about. WHAT exactly is glittering? Why is it glittering? Crosscut: -Sighs- I've heard of what you are referring to as well.. Chillsins: Glitter is...good. Prowl: My transfluids. Did you miss the week that Rodimus was handing out pamphlets with glittery dongles? Crosscut: I'm thankful I haven't been unfortunate enough to encounter it luckily. chronosmith: Whirl: Yes. I made a concentrated effort to avoid Rodimus's pamphlets. Prowl: If you have glitter crotch, your interfacing lubricants glitter. If you interface with someone else, they catch it too. chronosmith: Whirl: So, let me get this straight. There is a... it's. You just. chronosmith: Whirl:  *stares* Prowl: Each strain away from patient zero is progressively less glittery. Chillsins: *Chin, meet hand.* Prowl: Mine is only mildly pearlescent, but that's because I was part of a study trying to cure it. It didn't work but it reduced the intensity of the strain. Prowl: You didn't finish your question. I don't know what you're asking. Chillsins: ((I think I have a gif of that omg.)) Chillsins:   NoodlesAtNight: ((HA)) Chillsins: (( Amazing. Now back to our regular programming. )) chronosmith: Whirl: *pauses, rallying his thoughts* You're telling me, that your dimension has a disease that's passed via interface that makes your fluids GLITTER? And it's just. There. And--incurable, apparently? chronosmith: ((EXCELLENT)) Chillsins: *He's staying out of this conversation.* Prowl: I don't think it's incurable. But it hasn't been cured. It happened during the early part of the war, and there were much higher priorities than curing a harmless disease. Crosscut: -Prowl. God. We don't need to all hear about your jizz- Prowl: *guess who's physically incapable of filtering what comes out of his mouth right now* Chillsins: *He noticed.* chronosmith: Whirl: *nods* Right. Well. *looks to Windchill* You said glitter is good, right? Well. Here's your chance. Find someone in this dimension who'll touch your butt. Crosscut: (Ooooh boy) Prowl: Our medical research had to be turned toward curing horrific injuries caused by strange weapons. Chillsins: Besides, you? Crosscut: -Rubs his helm- chronosmith: Whirl: I haven't touched your butt YET. chronosmith: Whirl:  You still have to seduce me. Chillsins: *Gun fingers.* Chillsins: A 'yet' is good enough for me. chronosmith: *lifts his helm and attempts to look imperious* Impress me, and we'll see what happens. Crosscut: -yawns and sinks slightly in his seat- Chillsins: How many gun-tits will that take? Chillsins: (( All of them. )) chronosmith: Whirl: Save yourself the trouble. I've got the best gun-tits, and nobody else's are gonna impress me. chronosmith: Pipes: Aww, that was really sweet. Chillsins: Fantastic, I'm not big on mods anyway. Chaoit: -is paying more attention to the audience- Crosscut: Baseball is one of the few sports from Earth I do enjoy watching on occasion. Chillsins: *He thinks sports have too many rules..* chronosmith: Pipes: I've never really gotten into watching sports... or played one. Maybe I should give 'em a shot. Crosscut: You should, they can be pretty interesting. Crosscut: Normally I'm not the type either but it caught my interest Prowl: I like baseball a lot. Even if the movies aren't very good because you can tell that the trajectory and velocity of the ball changes between shots. Chillsins: She must face...her nemesis... Chillsins: Her own inferiority complex. Prowl: They're good besides that though. chronosmith: Whirl: It's not like it hasn't had help. Chaoit: ....? chronosmith: Whirl: Absolutely nobody has taken her seriously. *shrugs* chronosmith: Pipes: Hmm. Maybe someday! Maybe if we ever start any sports back up on Cybertron. Chillsins: True, and it's been annoying to watch. Chaoit: -okay show is interesting now- Crosscut: Yes, I found the signs they use in game to be rather interesting. Chillsins: *That's okay, he can relate just fine.* chronosmith: Whirl: I want her to do it. chronosmith: Whirl: Excellent. Crosscut: Hah, goodness won't that be the day? -he chuckles- Chillsins: The enemy is defeated. chronosmith: Whirl: Good. Prowl: If her sister dropped it on purpose I hope she never finds out. Chaoit: Beat it by literally hitting it head on chronosmith: Whirl: Solved her problems with violence, the way they were meant to be solved. chronosmith: Pipes: Me, too. I hope she didn't, though. Chillsins: *He was going to get angry if the older sister cheated that way, but he's not speaking to Prowl so too bad.* Prowl: *good* Chillsins: Nice shades. Chillsins: At least that was...kind of mature. Prowl: I'm glad they don't hate each other. chronosmith: Pipes: *nods* Crosscut: mhmm chronosmith: Pipes: This is a much better relationship to focus on than some rushed and ham-fisted romance. NoodlesAtNight: [[Mm. There are plenty of sibligs who do.]] NoodlesAtNight: siblings* Crosscut: Yes indeed Chillsins: "Dirt in the skirt?" Chillsins: That sounds awful. Chillsins: *Why did he read that.* Chillsins: *UGH* chronosmith: Whirl: So what you're saying is, you want me to make you a plaque that says, "Dirt in the skirt," right? Chillsins: How did you get that out of my sounds of disgust? Chillsins: ...I wouldn't say no. chronosmith: Whirl: I speak your secret language. Chillsins: *Sputters some fart noises just for u, Whirl. The most secret not secret language.* chronosmith: *imitates them back, near-perfectly* Prowl: *looks at Soundwave* ... I want to hold your hand again. Chillsins: *He'll play a song just for u.* NoodlesAtNight: *Oh! Well. So much for Crosscut not knowing.* Crosscut: -Oh don't mind him, he thinks it's very cute- chronosmith: *blinks and looks back , as he was unsure who Prowl was talking to* NoodlesAtNight: *Well, that's out of the bag now, so there's his hand again.* Prowl: *this lack-of-verbal-filters is going to be the death of all Prowl's secrets* chronosmith: ((...that was Pipes, Whirl is already well aware)) Prowl: ... I wasn't asking, I was just saying I wanted to. Prowl: ... But it's there now so I'm taking it. Prowl: *takes* Chillsins: *Well lookie there, Mr. Tom Hanks the Butthead Manager got a whole lot of nothing after all.* Chillsins: *Besides dead. Eventually.* Crosscut: I wasn't aware you two were an item now! NoodlesAtNight: *...Isn't sure how he should take that? But all right. There may have been a very, VERY quiet hum in there somewhere. Curls his fingers.* Chillsins: What the heck nobody warned me this was a musical. Prowl: Good. Good. *hand is hold.* terminatedApathy: *Oh boy. /That/ exclamation didn't go unnoticed.* NoodlesAtNight: ((PS: A lot of these ladies are the real players.)) Chillsins: (( GOOD. )) terminatedApathy: (( Oh, that's nice. )) chronosmith: ((:3c )) Prowl: *to Crosscut* Yes. We're keeping it secret. Chaoit: ((holy crap really? NoodlesAtNight: ((Yes really)) chronosmith: *also wasn't. Is now* Chaoit: ((that's awesome Prowl: ......... Were. Were keeping. Crosscut: -chuckles- Prowl: ..................... I should get my mouth welded shut until my brain is fixed. chronosmith: Oh! Um. Well, your secret's safe with me, guys. *thumbs up* Crosscut: I see, a well kept one. I'll be sure to stay quiet. NoodlesAtNight: [[Thank you.]] Crosscut: That's very nice to hear though, when did it start if I may ask? chronosmith: Of course! it's really nobody's business but your own. chronosmith: ((...both Pipes)) Chillsins: Wow, what an acronym. Prowl: I trust you two. *points at Crosscut and Pipes.* I don't trust anyone else here to keep quiet about it. terminatedApathy: *Isn't going to go around telling people, but he has Questions. And Opinions.* chronosmith: Whirl: You guys aren't exactly subtle about it, let's be real here. Chillsins: No worries, some of us don't care. NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): Distracting topic needed? Chaoit: ...? Prowl: ... maybe Shockwave but he probably doesn't care. terminatedApathy: ....I assure you, I'll not be spreading word of this. chronosmith: Whirl: You're always holding hands or leaning on each other and Soundwave's lights always do that little THING, y'know? You're very obvious. Chillsins: ((How long before Chill is escorted out by da police. How long. )) NoodlesAtNight: *Makes note to see that Shockwave leaves with a few handfuls of energon today.* Prowl: The hand-holding is for emotional support instead of dating purposes. It was an unavoidable slip. terminatedApathy: *That is an acceptable temporary bribe.* Prowl: Except today. Today it's because I can't not vocalize my thoughts even if I didn't actually want to act on them. Crosscut: Well even so, I'm happy for you. chronosmith: Yeah, congrats! chronosmith: ((...Pipes again)) Crosscut: ((Man I am enjoying watching these old ladies playing ball a lot)) NoodlesAtNight: [[...And his lights do not always do a little thing.]] Prowl: They only do a little thing some of the time. I like it. chronosmith: They very very OFTEN do a little thing. chronosmith: You're pretty twitterpated, mech. *his optic is a gleeful curve* Crosscut: -trying now to gush too much about how cute it is- Prowl: I don't think he's twitterpated. chronosmith: You're BOTH twitterpate. chronosmith: ((....whirl) Prowl: Am I? chronosmith: You are. chronosmith: ((WHIRL)) Prowl: I don't think I am. I've been twitterpated before. It's uncomfortable. chronosmith: Whirl: I've seen it often enough. Certified. You're almost as bad as HIM *points to Windchill* When he gets to talking about his junxy. Almost. Chillsins: I am not bad... Chillsins: I'm TERRIBLE. Chaoit: . . . chronosmith: Whirl: Because, really, NOBODY is as bad as him when it comes to--you absolutely ARE. Chillsins: Stop picking on me! chronosmith: Whirl: It's hilarious. Prowl: I'm not uncomfortable and therefore I'm probably not twitterpated. chronosmith: Whirl: Never! terminatedApathy: @Soundwave: "Twitterpated"? Chillsins: *Points at Whirl.* Chillsins: He's picking on me. Chaoit: -he's lost, and has a feeling it's better that he is- chronosmith: Whirl: *cackles* Prowl: Yes, we can see that he is. Chillsins: Wait, so. Crosscut: Perhaps you've just found someone in which you are comfortable with, so there isn't a strain in how you feel? NoodlesAtNight: [[He is not "twitterpated". He is...]] Grasps for a word. Any word. Where are all of his words? [[...Comfortable.]] chronosmith: Whirl: I think maybe you and I have different definitions of twitterpated. Prowl: Yes. Comfortable is good. Chillsins: Look it up in the dictionary. Prowl: I am comfortable. chronosmith: Whirl: Don't you tell me what to do, LOVER-BOY. NoodlesAtNight: @Shockwave: [[His apologies. Twitterpated is a human phrase. It is to be enamored and flighty.]] NoodlesAtNight: @Shockwave: [[Obviously, he is not flighty.]] Chillsins: Well EXCUSE ME for being the only one smart enough to suggest research over arguing about it. chronosmith: Whirl: *his own definition does not include the "flighty" part; just someone who's obvious mooning over someone else* terminatedApathy: @Soundwave: Hm. I agree, you're not the sort to behave in such a manner. chronosmith: Whirl: What, and deny myself the joy of arguing? Chillsins: Well, if I have to deny MYSELF... Chillsins: You might as well suffer with me. chronosmith: Whirl: Which you absolutely never do. Chillsins: I did for a while there actually. NoodlesAtNight: @Shockwave: [[It pleases him that -someone- recognizes this.]] Crosscut: Well, I enjoyed the film and even more to see you all after such a long time it seems. chronosmith: Pipes: Yeah, me too! Chillsins: *Except for Windchill, obviously.* NoodlesAtNight: [[He is certain Rumble will regret missing your presence, Crosscut.]] Prowl: Yes. I'm glad to see you. I like you. chronosmith: Pipes: *hops up* I hope you get completely better soon, Prowl. I'm glad you've got the pole out of your face, though! Prowl: I'm glad it's out of my face too. Crosscut: -chuckles- I like you as well, and yes of course. NoodlesAtNight: ((this is NOT an ic video but i can't not)) Crosscut: A shame, do tell Rumble I said hello though. NoodlesAtNight: [[He will.]] chronosmith: ((GOOD)) Prowl: ((it should be IC)) Chillsins: (( I haven't seen this film in over a DECADE. )) NoodlesAtNight: ((he wouldn't dare humiliate himself like this are you kidding)) chronosmith: *waves I'll try and visit you again soon, mech! NoodlesAtNight: [[Farewell, Pipes.]] chronosmith: ((it;'s whirl's solemn duty to make fun of everyone who is caught in the throes of romance.)) terminatedApathy: (( I don't think I've ever actually seen bambi. )) Prowl: ((he could use it to prove how twitterpated they aren't)) Crosscut: Good bye Pipes, be sure to remember our next tutoring lesson. Chaoit: ((I want to make a pun about Pipes and pipe but bad chronosmith: Pipes: *waves to Soundwave, as well!* Yep, I've got it on my calendar, Crosscut, no worries, heh! Chillsins: *Waves bye bye, Pipes.* chronosmith: *he'll wave to you, too, Windchill, even though u were Such a Butt* Chillsins: (( Ew what is THAT was that the sequel/prequel.)) Crosscut: ((Yep)) NoodlesAtNight: ((i apologize for not being fast enough to save your eyes from it)) Chillsins: *Sorry little dude but if you're gonna take a minor debate personally then...suit yourself.* Chillsins: (( I forgive u...this time.* Chillsins: )) Chillsins: (( It looks ugly tho. )) NoodlesAtNight: ((Victor if you haven't seen Bambi it's a decent-ish watch as I recall? For old school Disney anyhow.)) Chillsins: *But yes, he is...the hugest butt of all.* Chillsins: *WAIT...second hugest butt.* chronosmith: *this is more about the whole "unnecessary lying and attempts to make Pipes look stupid" thing; but he is friendly enough not to hold a grudge* Chillsins: *But still huge.* chronosmith: ((Yeah I thought the prequel was decent!)) chronosmith: ((if nothing else u get to see Patrick Stewart as a deer)) Chillsins: *No no no the only person he was trying to make look stupid was himself.* Crosscut: -Stands to his feet with a stretch- Chillsins: *Oh well.* Chillsins: (( I avoid the sequel/prequels as a matter of principle because...Why even. )) chronosmith: *fair enough, fair enough--either way, it won't be in the ledger* Prowl: The people I like are leaving and the people I don't like are staying. chronosmith: ((dude but then you deprive yourself of, like, Cinderella 3, which is a masterpiece)) Prowl: Except Soundwave. You're staying. Chillsins: *Rolls his optics.* chronosmith: *and Pipes is gone* Chillsins: (( IIs that the one where the sister has her own story. )) Chillsins: (( I have seen the gist of it. )) chronosmith: ((and the one where the prince jumps out the damb window)) NoodlesAtNight: [[Of course he is staying.]] Chaoit: ((wait, he what? NoodlesAtNight: ((cinderella 3 is one of the only excusable sequels and it is great.)) chronosmith: ((WATCH IT)) Prowl: Otherwise the people I like are leaving and the people I don't like are staying. chronosmith: ((it is indeed)) Chillsins: (( I don't remember a window but then, I barely paid attention to anything but the sister's character arc sooooo. )) Chaoit: ((now I wanna because he what? Prowl: ((I'm personally extremely fond of Aladdin 2.)) Prowl: ((as far as sequels go)) terminatedApathy: *He stands up, obviously preparing to walk out.* Chillsins: (( Aladdin 2 wasn't made like 50+ years later so I don't count that as the same thing PER SE )) chronosmith: Don't worry, I'm leaving soon, too. NoodlesAtNight: *Stretches a feeler out to block Shockwave's way for a moment.* Prowl: ((fair enough. it kind of kicked off the trend.)) terminatedApathy: *He is stopped. And looking to Soundwave curiously.* NoodlesAtNight: *Waves the end at him. Please accept the fuel held in its claws and keep quiet.* Prowl: ((and it was the lead-in to a pretty damn good TV spinoff series)) Chillsins: (( I saw a chunk of the series and it was Vastly Entertaining. )) Prowl: ((i watched it religiously as a kid)) Chillsins: (( Mirage = A+ villain, I love )) Chaoit: ...Right. G'night. I have a meeting tomorrow. Thanks for the movie. chronosmith: ((YESSS the show man)) NoodlesAtNight: [[Farewell, Blaster.]] Prowl: ((mechanicles is my favorite villain)) chronosmith: *hops up and streeetches* terminatedApathy: *He accepts the offer as discreetly as possible. Not much he could really use the information for, but he'll take this nevertheless.* Chillsins: *Well, if he's going to be left here with Prowl the Butthead then maybe he should go too. NoodlesAtNight: *You'd be surprised. Soundwave withdraws the feeler.* Prowl: ((if i ever decide to stream something for a few weeks, it's gonna be either the aladdin cartoon or the buzz lightyear cartoon)) Chillsins: *And he'll take his newly acquired butt germs with him. Gotta spread 'em around.* chronosmith: ((i would be so down to watch the aladdin cartoon omg)) chronosmith: Seeya, loser. *nods to Windchill* Chillsins: Bye, sucker. terminatedApathy: *He nods farewell to Soundwave.* Chillsins: *Rolls to his feeties.* NoodlesAtNight: *Nods to all leaving in turn.* terminatedApathy: (( /feeties./)) Chillsins: (( THEY ARE FEETIES. )) chronosmith: Anyway, get better soon. *nods to Prowl* You should consider keepin the eyepatch look. Very rakish. terminatedApathy: (( I have been slain.)) chronosmith: ((feetsies)) Prowl: It's harder for me to track trajectories without binocular vision. chronosmith: Don't I KNOW it. Chillsins: *Wow* chronosmith: If you've got sonar, it's absolutely indispensable when you've only got one eye. terminatedApathy: *Snorts at this line of conversation. He'd join, but he's leaving.* Prowl: Sonar isn't good enough for the rapid calculations I need to do. terminatedApathy: *Out the door he goes.* Prowl: And tracking trajectories is the only thing I'm good for, so I can't afford to stick to one optic just because it looks rakish. Prowl: And I don't think it looks rakish anyway. It looks delinquent. chronosmith: ...yeah, I can see how that'd be an issue. Sound isn't as fast as light. And the whole... there and back again thing. Prowl: Yes. NoodlesAtNight: *Has nothing against lone optics, obviously, but it isn't his face, so he'll not chip in on that one.* Prowl: I can see and calculate the velocity of a car before I even hear it. chronosmith: Still, if you get stuck this way for a while, take my free, highly valuable advice: sonar, mech. terminatedApathy: ((Goodnight, all.)) NoodlesAtNight: ((night!)) Chillsins: *Time to go. Whether he returns for another round of people taking stuff personally, well, we'll see.* chronosmith: *Whirl, obviously, doesn't either, but he's well-acquainted with adjusting to a drastically reduced field of vision he wasn't designed for* Prowl: I've got sonar. *hikes doors up.* But it's very bad sonar. It can only detect vague lumps. chronosmith: ((gnight!)) NoodlesAtNight: ((night chillmun)) chronosmith: ((and you too, butthead)) Prowl: ((gnight)) Chillsins: (( Thanks for the film. I don't really like sports films but that one was good. )) NoodlesAtNight: ((You're welcome-- and I share that opinion 😄 )) chronosmith: Well, I doubt you'll be stuck that way long enough to need an upgrade. Prowl: I hope not. NoodlesAtNight: [[It would not surprise anyone here to know that his is quite good. Though he is interested in seeing Whirl demonstrate his some time.]] chronosmith: I do it every damn day, mech. Prowl: I would be disappointed if a mech named Soundwave didn't have good sonar. chronosmith: *sly look* Even if I'm not looking at you, I see you. NoodlesAtNight: *So that's how he knew.* chronosmith: Half the times I noticed you two holding hands was with sonar. NoodlesAtNight: *Also, isn't sure if the door hike is because Prowl is indicating that's what he uses for his? Must ask in a bit.* Prowl: That explains it. I've tried to not be very overt with it. chronosmith: Well, you two ARE also pretty obviously into each other. chronosmith: I mean both of you have the body languages of a plank of wood so when you DO start to throw your tells it's kinda obvious. chronosmith: ...no offence. chronosmith: *offense wtf Prowl: What kind of body language do I give off? Besides holding hands and leaning. NoodlesAtNight: [[Apparently not little things with your lights. That's -his- problem.]] Prowl: My lights don't do very much. chronosmith: MAINLY those two. Now, I could be mistaken, don't take this for gospel, but I'm pretty sure your fans have clicked on at LEAST once when Soundwave mentioned something impressive he could do. chronosmith: And yeah, your lights get pretty bright, too. chronosmith: *his tone isn't actually mocking or disparaging, it's mostly amused* Prowl: Yes. My fans have clicked on multiple times. He's very attractive and I would like to interface with him. NoodlesAtNight: *The tiniest vent hiccup* NoodlesAtNight: *Look at that, another tell.* Prowl: ... That's a new sound. chronosmith: That, too, is obvious. *dryly* chronosmith: And look, the feeling's mutual. NoodlesAtNight: [[...He cannot tell if you are indicating -his- interest or -yours-.]] chronosmith: *sputters and LAUGHS* NoodlesAtNight: *LOOK, UNCLEAR WORDING IS UNCLEAR WORDING* chronosmith: I meant YOU. I don't know about you yet, mech, I've not seen you fight. *snickers* Prowl: He didn't say that. I think it was a startled sound. I'm not going to assume interest until he explicitly confirms it. I've made that mistake before and it's horrible. NoodlesAtNight: @Prowl: (txt): For Prowl's personal record: interest explicitly confirmed, when Prowl not in hospital, house arrest cleared, discussions completed, Soundwave asked. NoodlesAtNight: [[You will see him fight when he has a reason to expend the effort. No sooner.]] Prowl: Good. Thank you. I am pleased. NoodlesAtNight: *Small nod.* chronosmith: *shrugs; if he does, he does. If he never does, he never does. Whirl's content either way. Soundwave can read Whirl's mind, so he doesn't have to say it out loud* NoodlesAtNight: *Yep.* chronosmith: All right, all right, I've lingered here long enough, I'll leave you two lovebirds be. *salutes them* Prowl: I don't like being called a lovebird. chronosmith: Well, you are one. NoodlesAtNight: [[Thank you for attending.]] Pause to listen. [[Please do not call him one.]] chronosmith: Pfft. Prowl: No. Lovebirds are twitterpated. chronosmith: And you two AREN'T? Prowl: No. chronosmith: Okay, so, as I understand it, twitterpated means: you're very into someone and still kind of excitable about it. Right? Prowl: Twitterpation feels nervous and frazzled and distracting and twitchy. Prowl: Yes—excitable. Excitable is uncomfortable and nerve-wracking. Prowl: Within the context of our relationship, I'm not nerve-wracked. I'm calm and secure. NoodlesAtNight: [[His understanding is that it also includes flightiness. He is not flighty.]] Pause to consider. [[He flies. That is not the same.]] chronosmith: Well, that's not MY definition. The Whirl Definition. Prowl: Words are difficult, and right now I can't consciously choose them. I am not explaining myself well. chronosmith: Now this is the part where I WOULD scoff at you saying you're "secure" when obviously you feel the need to HIDE it but I'm not a complete idiot, I know it's for skulduggery reasons. chronosmith: No, you're actually doing a pretty good job, mech. NoodlesAtNight: *Quietly takes the "I'm calm and secure" and settles his mind on that like a cat on a warm spot* Prowl: Yes. It's a lot of skulduggery. I'm afraid that if it's widely known, people like Starscream might decide to threaten him in order to control me. chronosmith: Well, that'd give us a good excuse to blow him away, then. NoodlesAtNight: [[Desist. This is a public space.]] Prowl: In addition, the people who date me or interface with me are mocked for it. chronosmith: *raises claw* I'll volunteer. They're already one step away from tossing me in jail anyway. I'm ready to go rogue if I gotta. chronosmith: *Prowl is saying incriminating things because he's ill; whirl has no excuse. he's just whirl* NoodlesAtNight: [[Let us move away from the topic of reasons for secrets.]] NoodlesAtNight: [[He believed you were going somewhere?]] chronosmith: For the record, OFFICIALLY, I'm not making fun of you cos you're you. I'm making fun of you 'cause it's my solemn duty to gently mock all my acquaintances when they get lovey-dovey. Prowl: Yes, I understand that this is a reflection of who you are as a person. NoodlesAtNight: [[Comforting.]] No, honestly. It is. chronosmith: Oh, right. Sorry. Hint taken. Prowl: I dislike it but I recognize where it's coming from. chronosmith: *waves again and starts trotting out; unless he is called back and/or addressed again, he will leave them in peace* NoodlesAtNight: @Whirl: [[A protective measure. Starscream cannot hear these things. Farewell.]] Prowl: I don't mind being mocked so much as I mind the people I like being mocked because they're close to me. They don't deserve it and it's my fault. chronosmith: *pauses because, well. he was addressed again* Prowl: Technically it's not my fault, it's the fault of the people who make a choice to mock. But it's my fault. chronosmith: Nah, if I'm doing it, it's one hundred per--yes. My fault. Prowl: I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about everyone in general, but most particularly the ones who do the mockery specifically because I am involved in the relationship. chronosmith: Yeah, well, screw those guys. chronosmith: ...metaphorically. NoodlesAtNight: *Nods.* Prowl: When I was with Chromedome, everybody called him "Unlucky." He never disagreed with them. chronosmith: It's damn hard being happy as it is, so frag them and enjoy yourself while you can. Prowl: I don't want the people I care about to be mocked and ostracized for their enjoyment. chronosmith: Well, that there is what I would call a red flag, mech. NoodlesAtNight: *Hand curls tighter. What he would do to Chromedome if he got the chance...* chronosmith: Then sock 'em. chronosmith: Or, if YOU can't, cos I know you've got a reputation to uphold--get someone who will. Prowl: Yes. He had a whole lot of red flags. I didn't recognize them at the time because he was the first person I was ever in a relationship with and I didn't think anybody else would ever want to put up with me. chronosmith: *holds up a claw* Prowl. Prowl: I don't like punching people. chronosmith: I think you better pump the brakes, you're getting personal. Prowl: I don't know how to pump the breaks. NoodlesAtNight: [[Subject changes.]] chronosmith: Switch subject. Punching. Prowl: If I did, I would have pumped them about five comments ago. chronosmith: I can't really help if you if you don't like punching. Prowl: Actually, I would have pumped them two hours ago. NoodlesAtNight: [[Rumble would punch them.]] Prowl: That's a good metaphor. My breaks are broken. I'm verbally out of control. Prowl: I don't like it when people punch people on my behalf, either. I don't want people to be punched. chronosmith: There ya go. Rumble's a good guy, I bet he punches like a god damned avalanche. Prowl: Rumble has punchy arms. NoodlesAtNight: [[That is -before- he brings his weaponry into it.]] Prowl: I like them. Prowl: I don't like them. Devastator likes them. Prowl: I like them through Devastator. I don't like it. chronosmith: They're pretty cool. NoodlesAtNight: [[But if punching is not wanted, there are other methods. He knows of plenty.]] Prowl: Are you going to blackmail the hypothetical people who mock the mechs I date. chronosmith: I dunno, speaking hypothetically, how could you NOT wanna punch someone who's giving your beau a hard time? *squints* I don't think I could NOT punch 'em. chronosmith: Or, well, there you go. That works, too. Prowl: I'm not a punchy person. Prowl: Or a blackmaily person, outside of work. Prowl: People don't deserve to be physically harmed or threatened over jokes. That will not increase the sum total of happiness in the universe. chronosmith: Yeah but it'll sure as hell stop them from putting down someone you care about. NoodlesAtNight: [[It is not himself being mocked he is concerned with. He was disliked and mocked in his own faction and now by the majority of a planet.]] NoodlesAtNight: [[He is accustomed to it, if displeased with it.]] Prowl: That's bad. Prowl: The thing Ratchet said was cruel. I was shocked and I hated it. Prowl: Yesterday NoodlesAtNight: *Waves a hand.* [[He did not experience it, and Ratchets have - a streak.]] Prowl: But you still heard it. And it still should not have been said, even if it wasn't directed at you. chronosmith: Well. You do you, mechs. If not-punching someone gives you more satisfaction than punching someone, then knock yourself out, you crazy kids. *he's saying this half as a joke, he is aware Soundwave is many times older than he is* NoodlesAtNight: [[His point is, yes, he would consider blackmail. Or other, mostly legal options, if preferred.]] NoodlesAtNight: *Nods to Whirl. Thank you.* Prowl: I would prefer legal options. Prowl: With maximum results for minimal harm. chronosmith: *he's definitely older than Prowl, though& NoodlesAtNight: [[Noted.]] chronosmith: Okay, dammit, I did it again. RIGHT. THIS TIME. For real. Your alone time starts.... chronosmith: NOW chronosmith: *scoots on out* NoodlesAtNight: *Shakes his helm a little. That was something of a mess, wasn't it.* chronosmith: ((i'm sorry y'all it was The Whirl That Wouldn't Leave night)) NoodlesAtNight: ((lmao is ok)) Prowl: I need to weld my mouth shut until my processor is fixed. Prowl: I've said a lot of things I shouldn't have said. Prowl: Maybe when I'm back to normal, I can pretend it was all brain damaged delusions and none of it was true. Prowl: ... No. That won't work. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): This one would be disappointed. Prowl cannot smile with welded mouth. However... perhaps temporary block: appropriate, when activation needed. Prowl: The Constructicons have been covering my mouth when they think I'm about to say something I shouldn't. But they're not here. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Soundwave should repeat action? This, not disrespectful? Prowl: That would probably be helpful. Can you read more of my mind if the place where you touch me is closer to my processor? NoodlesAtNight: ((txt): Irrelevant. Prowl's mind never read. Prowl: I want to know anyway. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Faster, not deeper. Depth: different matter. Prowl: And the fact that you didn't answer is somewhat anxiety-inducing and increases the probability that the answer is "yes." Prowl: Faster. I see. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Anxiety inducement not intended. Question relation not understood when asked. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Understood now. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Answer stands. Soundwave does not read. Prowl: I don't know if that's true. You could be reading it silently so I don't know that you're in there. Now that we're in close physical proximity again it would be easy. I wouldn't have any way to know. Prowl: But I'm choosing to believe you. I'm choosing to believe you. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): ...Acknowledged. These, possibilities. Not performed, never performed. Choice appreciated. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Safety feeling increased if physical contact reduced? Prowl: Yes, but it decreases my overall satisfaction level because then we're not holding hands. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Which preferred? Safety, satisfaction? NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Compliance offered regardless. Prowl: Safety decreases as physical contact increases but emotional fulfillment that comes from touching somebody I like increases as physical contact increases. Both safety and emotional fulfillment contribute to overall satisfaction. Holding hands is the point of physical contact at which the sum total of safety and emotional fulfillment yields the highest satisfaction. Prowl: I can send you the graphs. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Graphs requested. Sum total acknowledged. Soundwave will continue. Prowl: *sends graphs* NoodlesAtNight: *Pings receipt acknowledgement, tries to lift hand toward helm. Here. This is as close as he can give to putting himself in danger too, right now.* Prowl: *helm touch* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Prowl's math abilities often admired. Demonstrations wanted, in future. Prowl: ... You worry more about my satisfaction than your own. Prowl: We should be comparing both our graphs so that we achieve conditions in which the sum total of both our states of satisfaction are maximized, not just the satisfaction of one of us. Prowl: If I'm 100% satisfied and you're 30% satisfied that's worse than if we're both 70% satisfied. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): ...Satisfaction graph formation method unknown. Soundwave not - math understood well, not Prowl's level. Cannot produce accurate percentage. Estimation alone. Prowl: Well. Yes. I'm not going to make you produce a graph. That's hard for people who aren't me. I meant we should be comparing our metaphorical graphs. Prowl: Your metaphorical graph and my literal graph. NoodlesAtNight: *Slightly confused tilt.* Prowl: Am I unclear? NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Worse history, uncomfortable ability, opposing faction background possessed. These, not good reasons own satisfaction given lower priority? Prowl: No. Prowl: Will the sum total of happiness in the multiverse be increased if your emotional needs are disregarded? NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Uncertain. Regardless; higher satisfaction not possible under house arrest restrictions. That, known when relationship started. Accepted. Patience exercised. *gesture to his and Prowl's hand on his mask* This, unexpected opportunity. Satisfying. Prowl: Even under my current restrictions, there are conditions under which you would be more or less happy. Prowl: I would prefer for you to be more. Prowl: You do a great deal to see to my comfort. It's uncomfortable because I am bad at doing the same in return and I am afraid you do more for me than I possess the skill to balance out. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): ...Ensuring comfort pleases. Content companion contents self. Prowl assists more than believed understood - documentary, other comforts well noticed. Soundwave... does not believe Prowl estimation reduced after events. If true, that, appreciated. Other secrets known, kept. Few trusted with knowledge. NoodlesAtNight: *He doesn't quite understand what Prowl wants. Everything he can think of that he brought up to Tarantulas is dependent on access he doesn't have.* Prowl: Nobody is contented ONLY by ensuring another's comfort. I... hadn't thought of the things I have done for you. But, that's... it comes... naturally. It's the correct thing to do. Prowl: You—you spend a lot of time asking if you should do more or less of a thing for me. I don't do that for you. I don't think of those questions. I wouldn't know where to start. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Comfort ensuring, suitable replacement when other activities, interactions unavailable. Returned starting point.... Prowl: And, it—makes me—feel... *he's searching for a word. he's probably not going to find it.* NoodlesAtNight: *That's all right, he's struggling with his own. You try throwing something out first.* Prowl: ... coddled. Weak. Fragile. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): ...Unintentional. Prowl: I know. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Prowl not - not fragile, weak. Damaged only. Many lies also believed. This, disliked. Prowl worth more, better. Greater admiration deserved. Chromedome, actions: hated. Further damage, continued lie belief unwanted. Return to best self desired. Nothing else meant. Prowl: ... What lies believed? Prowl: I don't want to believe lies. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): ...This - satisfaction question - useful starting point. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Many, regarding self behaviors, worth. Belief received mockery: own fault, others all dislike, will not find companions, cannot socialize, cannot empathize/care, Prowl: burden, others not concerned about Devastator connection, more. Prowl: ... Some of those are exaggerations. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Negative, basic descriptions. Explicit detail translation more difficult. Prowl: ... I think they're exaggerated basic descriptions. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Perhaps. Many based in Prowl's words. Companion item stated earlier. Prowl: Companion item? That I won't find companions? When did I say that? NoodlesAtNight: [][][]I didn't recognize them at the time because he was the first person I was ever in a relationship with and I didn't think anybody else would ever want to put up with me.[][][] Prowl: Oh. I used to think that. I don't think that anymore. Prowl: I know now that there are lots of people who will put up with me. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Negative, not [][][]put up with[][][]. That, suggestion presence not truly enjoyed. Prowl: ... That's difficult. Even when my presence is enjoyed, I think some putting-up-with is involved. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Perfection not possible. Prowl: No. It's not. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): More trust wanted. That, satisfaction increase source. More - tasks, secret safeguarding, belief Soundwave protects self from Starscream, general trust. Problem: cannot deliver trust on request. Other sources... occasional additional contact liked. Soundwave understands want/not want issue, minimal Prowl self preference. Devastator-related upset not desired. Distance difficulties acknowledged. Prowl: You have a lot more secrets to safeguard. That's good. For you it's good. I'm not happy about it but it's not your fault I shared them. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Soundwave offers own, when Prowl filter repaired. Prowl: Oh. Thank you. I appreciate that. You don't have to, so I'm glad you are. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Prowl: important. Imbalance disliked, unwanted. Also safety matter. Equal reasons. NoodlesAtNight: *In other words, he doesn't see Prowl on the same level as the average Cybertronian. From them, he'd run away laughing with his hands full and never give anything back.* Prowl: Thank you. I think you're important too. I wouldn't want to be imbalanced in a way that disadvantages you. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Pleasing. Prowl: ... Although if we became imbalanced in a way that disadvantages you, I don't know if I would pay it back. Not because I want the advantage but because I fear the disclosure. Prowl: ... I think I would. I think so. But I would choose what I shared carefully. Prowl: I'm self-disclosing a lot of things that make me look bad. Note to self, don't give gifts to anyone until my filter is back in place or I might end up accidentally married to them. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Careful choice accepted. Own choices: similar. Soundwave understands Prowl cannot hide truth; appreciates truth regardless. NoodlesAtNight: *Sudden 'laughter'* (txt): Prowl cannot marry Soundwave. Fear unnecessary here. Avoid giving -others- gifts. Prowl: Yes. You're safe. I can give you a gift. I don't have any gifts to give you but I could if I wanted. NoodlesAtNight: *Motions to the hand.* Prowl: I should give you a gift. Prowl: No no, the hand is a different step. NoodlesAtNight: *Question mark on screen* Prowl: You don't know the conjunx ritus? NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Paperwork, optional spark exposure known. Vague witnessed declaration recall. Never subject of interest. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Explain. Prowl: The traditional way to propose conjugation is to take someone to a place you associate with each other—that part's optional—make sustained physical contact with him, tell him something shameful about yourself, and give him a gift. If he reciprocates, he'll make a grand gesture to prove his devotion, and that's the final step. The gestures can vary widely. Prowl: Sustained physical contact can't also be the gift. That's cheating. NoodlesAtNight: *Soundwave doesn't want to move his head too much and dislodge the hand, so he uses a feeler to to look around to make his upcoming point* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): This, not Prowl association place. Additional thought: not considered cheating if ritual not involved. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Contact remains gift. Prowl: No. And I'm not proposing. I'm just touching your mask and talking too much. Prowl: ... Fair. NoodlesAtNight: *...To Pit with it, there's nobody else here.* NoodlesAtNight: *Gonna RC that mask to lift it up a lil bit and nom the palm once, then put it down again.* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Imbalance corrected. Prowl: Mouth. Prowl: *that's it that's the sum total of Prowl's thought* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Now Prowl not talking too much. Prowl: Mouth. Good. Prowl: *give him a second* Prowl: *he's recovering* NoodlesAtNight: *Oh, Prowl can have as long as he likes. Soundwave is terribly pleased with himself* Prowl: ... I'm uncertain which imbalance that corrected but I'm pleased that it was corrected all the same. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Gift, time, explicit thoughts, total speech. Choice: Prowl's. Prowl: Gift. Prowl: Time? Do we have a time imbalance? NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Affirmative, unavoidable. Hologram biting less effective. NoodlesAtNight: *Is mostly trying to help lighten the mood a bit since Prowl started them falling off the serious subject track with the conjunx ritus comment.* Prowl: ... You should bite me again. Prowl: And if you ever want to bite off any of my fingers, this is a good time to do it, I'm already in a hospital. Prowl: *sadly, that WASN'T an attempt to lighten the mood. 100% serious.* NoodlesAtNight: *Huge red exclamation point on his screen.* (txt): Metal, rubber, plastic, glass piece not personal consumption interest. Fingers not severed. *A pause.* Would consider secondary bite. Uncertain this intended comment, setting. Uncertain brain module can handle. NoodlesAtNight: *This went off in a direction he didn't quite expect.* Prowl: All right, if you don't want to. Prowl: I would like a secondary bite. My brain module can handle that. But we shouldn't go any farther because my processor fans probably wouldn't be able to keep up. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): That not said. However, processor fan: sensible delay reason. Prowl: No, I meant, if you don't want to eat one of my fingers. You looked... surprised. That was a very surprised exclamation point. I think. Prowl: No finger removal. Yes one bite, maybe. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Affirmative. That, old rumor. Disliked. Hard bites enjoyed. Energon, when allowed. Not solid piece consumption. Prowl: Oh. I'm sorry. I hadn't heard the rumor. I've dated other people who DO like biting off pieces of me. Prowl: I'm okay with hard bites and drawing energon as long as it's not from a main fuel line. NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Negative. Not main fuel lines. That, attacking, not sharing. Prowl did not know; forgiveness granted. NoodlesAtNight: *Pulls the hand away from his face and looks at it for possible scrapes or dents he can use to disguise a second nibble.* Prowl: *there's a great many tiny scrapes all over, especially on the palm side of his hand and fingers. construction work.* NoodlesAtNight: *Ah, very good. Then, because the fingers were brought up, once his mask is up he will steal the first one, pull it into his mouth, and very, VERY carefully bite just hard enough to leave almost-pierced pinprick points on either side of the lowest joint. That'll be a nice pair of visible dotted lines whenever Prowl writes with something, until he has that fixed.* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): There. Request, Soundwave satisfied. Many more promised if Prowl recovers, earns better visitation opportunity. Suggestion: obey recuperation orders. Do not cheat, attempt resuming work early. Prowl: *holds very still during this process. but whispers "good" a few times.* Prowl: I will not cheat in any way that could possibly endanger my processor. Prowl: And I don't like my work. I can use this as an excuse to not do construction and nobody will be able to blame me. NoodlesAtNight: *A fleeting glimpse of a toothy smile just before it finishes lowering again.* (txt): Secret loophole utilization. Amusing, pleasing. Prowl: *and another whispered "good."* Prowl: *he's figured out whispering. that's progress.* NoodlesAtNight: *It is indeed!* NoodlesAtNight: (txt): Prowl now gone several hours. Perhaps return: wise. Doctors will seek soon. Prowl: Yes. Good idea. NoodlesAtNight: *Rises and offers an arm if one is needed. He will see Prowl there, if Prowl wishes.* Prowl: *excuse me did u say More Hand Holding* NoodlesAtNight: *Just about* Prowl: *if they pass anyone during the walk he'll pretend that he's being led. His vision is better, but not great.* NoodlesAtNight: *Will post a map on his screen so they can't question it* Prowl: *brilliant strategy* NoodlesAtNight: *Onward, Rakish One.*