#magicalMILDnsfw

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[Rage.]

[Rage drives many a thing - many wrong, but a good many right as well.]

[In this case... rage leads to mutual destruction.]

[Walking amongst the newly-wrecked No Bot's Land, one ['07!] Optimus Prime looks around at the destruction in despair and victory. On one hand, he finally defeated the Decepticons, once and for all. On the other, a rare few Autobots remain - him among them. His actions have led to this monument of death emerging from the deepest darkest depths of his nightmares.]

[Optimus finds a severed head, the base of the neck scorched by a gunshot. A rocket trooper. Thrown to the afterlife as soon as he was into the war. He keeps the head in a pocket.]

[Then... he hears a roaring engine, faintly in the distance. A disturbing scream of metal, seemingly running on vengeance, a stark contrast to the quiet fury of the flames and creaking metal around Optimus.]

[The engine only grows louder. Optimus unsheathes an armblade, expecting trouble in some sort.]

[Trouble comes flying at Optimus, in the form of someone he'd thought he'd destroyed the willpower of back when he fired a nuke down south. A Decepticon, no doubt, fuelled by pure hatred. Hatred for the Autobots. Hatred for Optimus Prime. Hatred in its most vile, sadistic form.]

[Bonecrusher.]

[Optimus parries the oncoming beast into a wrecked building, but it only rebounds off of the wall, back at him. Optimus once again parries it into a car.]

[The beast sits up, unsheathing a sword of its own. Optimus can feel the presence of the sword, stained with Energon from countless victims. Autobot, Decepticon, it didn't matter to the blade. It was simply hungry.]

[The cannibal wielding it was starved of vengeance for too long.]

Optimus: ...So. You're here to kill me off, permanently. But are you going to savor it?

[It only growls at him, intending to shove the sword deep into Optimus' bones. He only barely has the reaction time to parry it away at the last second, forgetting about the claw on the back of the beast, of which bites deep into his upper back and pinning him to the ground.]

[Optimus writhes against the ground. He cannot get his arms far back enough to attack Bonecrusher.]

Bonecrusher: they say that you're the good guys. what 'good guy' lies to their soldiers - to the civilians they claim to protect - by performing whatever monstrosity the day called for next?

Optimus: S-so... you do speak! [He attempts to laugh, to mock Bonecrusher, but the beast simply responds by stomping on his head.]

Bonecrusher: you ruined countless lives. so many cybertronians, meatbags, and more fell to your blade and your war machine. you ruined relationships, purely for the purpose of victory. the other optimi aren't like you, prime. you let your trauma and ptsd turn you into a sadistic killer. a blood knight for the sole purpose of brutally annihilating your enemies.

Optimus: Who are you t-to speak of people being monsters? Hmm?

Bonecrusher: i do not intend to seem a hypocrite. i only seek to have you feel the suffering you enacted upon your own race. upon my team... my gang.

Optimus: Ohh... is this about the nuclear strike?

[bonecrusher only responds with pinning optimus to the floor with his sword, instead of his claw.]

Bonecrusher: you do not deserve a warrior's death. you deserve a slow, torturous demise only worthy of you.

[a beat.]

Bonecrusher: i bet you taste terrible when undercooked.

Optimus: ...What?

[bonecrusher walks over to the wrecked building optimus parried him into. he sees that only one pillar carries the weight of the building, and that its center of mass hangs over optimus. with vigor, he topples the pillar, rolls over to optimus, yanks his sword out, and runs out of the way of the collapsing building.]

[of course, optimus was crushed and - to bonecrusher's plan - burned alive. bonecrusher waits in the meantime.]

[a voice in bonecrusher's head speaks to him.]

?: you know, you could've fought him one on one.

BC: i don't care.

[another pipes up.]

??: so you... want us to watch you eat a cooked corpse?

BC: exactly. i got hungry from the rage.

?: ...yeah, okay. that tracks with what we've seen of you earlier. that one body though... yech.

BC: don't judge me. you're the ones constantly asking for blood. it's only fair that i grab something for myself along the way.

[bonecrusher sits upon the pile of concrete, listening to optimus' screams and arguing with the voices in his head.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

THE LAST HELLDIVER

"Hey, what if I did a self-insert story about that dumbass space game I like?"

---

/// NOT A DRILL ///

/// REPEAT ///

/// NOT A DRILL ///

---

Super Earth... has fallen.

All across the galaxy, Managed Democracy has been brought to a near-extinction, almost every Helldiver brought to their knees and either systematically executed, devoured, or enslaved for some greater purpose.

All hope has been lost. All men, women, and children under the age of 7 have suffered much the same fate as the heroes that were assigned to protect them at all costs. Some traitorous Helldivers found themselves rewarded by the Automatons they'd sided with. The Illuminate were less than eager on the topic of backstabbing, and the Terminids were hungry.

Now, only the Big Three rule the galaxy, fighting an endless battle...

...except for one, teeny flaw the Automatons, ruthless in their war against the Helldivers, overlooked.

CY BER STAN CAN'T KEEP HER DOWN DI VER SCUM ON TO WAR

The chanting was getting tiring for the Sole Helldiver to listen to. He has a job to do, and only one 500 kilogram chance to get it done. This Helldiver had been tasked with infiltrating behind enemy lines and destroying Cyberstan once and for all - a task fit for only the ballsiest of Helldivers. How would they do it? What tool would they use? And why only one?

Not a problem the Helldiver has to reason with right now.

A Devastator walks past his hiding spot, its scanners not picking up the metal of his amputated limbs. Good. Stupid robot.

He hoists. He sneaks out of cover, into the shining capital of the worst planet he's ever been on, down the road. The roads have been cleared, any and all slaves hidden within the buildings that the Helldiver rumors to be workshops. The 500KG on his back isn't as heavy as his heart, impractical as it sounds.

Where the hell's a deus ex weak point when you need it?

The Helldiver's going to need a miracle. Right now, he's not feeling much else other than the bomb. He knows that all of the workshops feed from one place and one place alone - not a good philosophy, but whatever works for him.

He goes to turn a corner... ...and hears the unmistakable sound of a Senator's hammer clicking backward.

"Goin' somewhere, Helldivah?"

He turns to his left, facing the traitor head-on. He has nothing to lose - nothing to fear. He doesn't care what happens now. 'Of course there's a traitor on Cyberstan,' he thinks to himself, 'why wouldn't there be?'

...He has a job to do. Not something this robotfucker would understand.

"Yeah, take the shot. Take the shot on a defenseless foe, you tin-can coward."

He taunts the Automa-traitor, turning off to his right once more and continuing on his way. A ballsy move, something that might get him the time he needs to get to his objective - wherever that is - and get it done.

A ballsy move that rewards him with a crippled left leg, his only knee blasted out from behind. A Senator round - nothing else feels just like it.

The robotic clanking of the traitor's boots trails behind him as he collapses to the cap of his mechanical calf replacement. It's a surprise to him that he hadn't fallen over entirely. The barrel of the Senator presses against the back of his helmet, the heat seeping through.

"What, no patriotic mumbo-jumbo from the only Helldiver left?~"

"What good would it do me?"

"At least you'd have some last words, love."

Click. Fire.

...and even now, Democracy still protects the Helldiver.

A deus ex machina of Managed proportions, the pressure of the bullet firing ends up destroying the Senator's barrel, rendering it useless.

The THUMP of the 500KG echoes throughout the otherwise lonely streets as the Helldiver uses this opportunity to twist around and shunt his servo-assisted arm rip right through the traitor's guts.

"Guessing you don't have a heart..."

The otherwise haunting sound of tearing skin rings in both meatbags' ears, the traitor being disembowelled slowly and excruciatingly. The pain is too agonizing for the Helltraitor to fight back.

The intestines come first. The Helldiver goes back in for more. Now out come the lungs, along with a litre of robot-loving blood... and the traitor loses her consciousness. She drops backward, effectively dead.

Get up.

He gets back up onto his one good leg now, crushing what remained of the traitor's rotten heart in his servo-assisted hand and picking the 500KG up again. He uses what he can to keep moving. Moving, moving, moving.

Fear not your death. Fear is the mindkiller.

Fear is what keeps one from achieving their true self.

The Helldiver limps, his blood dripping from his destroyed knee. The 500KG is otherwise preoccupied with being a mostly inanimate object, rolling around on his back. He has a few thoughts on the traitor - most of them not fit for suspense. One, however; 'If there's a traitor nearby, they must be overlooking something important.'

Sure enough: there it is.

Cyberstan... is not a planet. The planet was given its name. This is Cyberstan.

And despite his thoughts against it, she's a sight to behold. A mechanical work of art that orders around her minions like the hivemind he's sure they are. Here she is, in the metal.

> WELL, IF IT ISN'T A HELLDIVER

The words echo throughout the capital of Cyberstan, likely alerting the entire horde to the Helldiver. One shot.

> WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE?

Well, since she asked so nicely... "...An objective." His voice is weak, the blood loss a factor. He'd lost more than blood. More than his patriotic roots, his democratic teammates.

Not his determination, yet. He straightens up.

"I'm here to bring your toys to Hell."

> SO IT WOULD SEEM

Those words... why do they hurt so much?

> YOU ARE AN ADMIRABLE SOUL FOR COMING ALL THE WAY HERE FOR ME, HELLDIVER

A faint noise, far off. No doubt the thousands of metal pedes coming to rip him apart. He doesn't have anywhere else to go after this. If only his Super Destroyer weren't wrecked off the coasts of Menkent...

"Look, I'm... not one for big, scary speeches. Never had much skill in improv. I'd like to ask a final request."

> NAME IT

"Hold this bomb for me?"

It's a long shot. He knows that. He knows that someone in a position like Cyberstan's won't just say 'yes' on a whim. There has to be good reason for her to simply... drop all she's worked for. All of the war effort she'd put in.

That glint in her mechanical, blood-red optics is a telltale sign. Apparently, Democracy is looking down upon him today.

> YOU UNDERSTAND YOU WILL FALL AS WELL?

He nods.

> VERY WELL, THEN

The conqueror leans down, her massive metal fingers twirling around the active 500KG. She rends it clear of the Helldiver's fingers, holding it in her hand.

Those bastard machines are coming closer.

> WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN WHEN I AM GONE?

"I don't care. Just want to know what the Pearly Gates look like, myself."

> HONESTY. RESPECTABLE > PERHAPS THEY HAVE A SHOOTING RANGE IN 'HEAVEN'

"...hah."

---

///

---

It all ends in a flash. I feel it now... her voice is gone. The door is ajar - removed entirely, the walls collapsing before my very eye. One last Helldiver was all it took. Cyberstan is non-functional. ...Gone, before my very eye. The helmet of the Helldiver rolls toward me. One of the simpler models, a simple viewfinder attached to the left side. I crouch down - as much as my body will allow - to pick it up, examining it closer. I was meters away from the door before the Helldiver's explosive went off. I could've saved Cyberstan. "COMRADE." My partner, a Devastator, turns to me. "WHAT NOW? WE HAVE FAILED." Failure. I have not felt this in a long time. I have not felt in a long time. It 'feels'... acceptable. "PERHAPS WE HAVE, COMRADE." I turn to the Devastator to my right. "BUT NOW..."

"...PERHAPS, THIS IS A REDEMPTION."

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

uh. i haven't posted anything vaguely regarding the bone gang in a while. so you know what, i'm gonna wrap up the 'why the hell did the autobots take bonecrusher to an outpost in northern canada?' storyline in one sentence.

they's experimenting on him, seeing why the hell he functions with the electricity overdrive/overload in his frame.

as for how it went with getting bonecrusher safe and sound at home? it went alright. he walks around with a significant limp now and he's got a few shortened circuits, but for the most part, boney's still bonin' alright.

on an unrelated note rocketjumper's a helldiver now. mountain mama fightin' bugs and robots like it's nobody's business. bunkerbuster in particular has been wanting to join her, but the Ministry of Truth is holding out to see how well RJ does on her own. to see if she isn't a traitor.

managed democracy, lol.

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

how about i just write a story how a story's usually written? like fuck my usual formatting with [actions like this] and no goddamn. proper. fucl i'm losing my train of thought. greatknight time

---

Another day, another morning.

Another gorgeous day shining down upon the Bloodwoods. The light from this world's star filters through the atmosphere and the leaves of the blood trees, fresh blood dripping down to the muddy and perpetually moist ground and providing an excellent sight, indeed.

The Blackcastle peeks out from above the trees, a demonic reminder of the beings that live here. In that castle, an army willing to face gods with smiles on their faces.

The Blood Army, as it were.

The Legend of the Bloodwoods, the Greatknight, awakens from an otherwise exhausting slumber and tosses his legs over the side of his mattress. His feet sit flat against the floor, his bulky arms propping him up as he 'boots.' He's almost forgotten that he's a warlord of incredible proportions, his past few years having been filled with days of joy and grandeur rather than bloodshed and war.

Almost.

A low hum escapes from the Greatknight, a yawn of demonic proportions.

"Mondays..."

The springs and the wood beneath the warlord creak as he sloughs off the mattress. He allows himself a standing stretch, knowing no one will be able to see him. It takes the Greatknight a few steps towards the nearby elevator before he realizes that he'd not put his armor on yet.

Luckily for him, he'd thought of this issue in the past.

He grabs a few oven mitts and begins the arduous process of putting his armor on. There is little else in his mind at the moment, as he's certain that his realm has been closed to all for a good many years now.

...Took him long enough.

He's getting older, he recognizes this. He will not allow his age to get the better of him. Not now, and not for a good few centuries further. Soon enough, he will die, and he will ensure he dies jovial.

The elevator doors creak open just as he places his helmet atop his head, revealing one of his soldiers, his most trusted confidante - one would even say his best friend.

His bones rattle as he enters his boss's den. There's something unusual cradled in his normally meatless arms.

"A child?"

"A child," Larry echoed. A child with a pumpkin head and an animalistic form, pudgy and adorable. The head's carvings moved as the small one breathes, clearly in slumber.

"I suppose she shall make an excellent warrior in time," the Greatknight mumbles. "Or, she could simply live in the haven."

Larry thinks for a moment. "I'd found her outside in a box. Could be an orphan."

"A babe as small as this, an orphan." This thought is insidious. "Typical of unworthy parents. Where did you find her?"

"Just outside the main gates. If you'd like me to bring her to Dani-"

"Daniel will likely bring her harm. Why not Steven?"

...yeah, that makes more sense. "Steven it is, then. I mean, the research will come along slower, but-"

"Do not harm a single fleck of fur on this child, Larry. I won't have it. If Steven tries to get Daniel involved, stop him."

"Yessir." Larry cradles the child as he walks back toward the elevator. The two beings share a nod, and the elevator doors creak closed again.

For a moment, the Greatknight wonders if the babe has a name.

For another, he decides that he's going to watch the sun rise.

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[turns out the little raid thing the guys're doing to get bonecrusher free from the autobots is getting held up. let's go check on rumbles in the mean time.]

[good ol' groundrumbler's sat at the kitchen island again. his mind is blank, his eyes fixated on a window ahead of him. it's clear in his expression that he hasn't had a single second of sleep.]

[y'know, for transformers, these guys seem to sleep a lot. especially groundrumbler. wonder why?]

[...]

[yeah, there's not much happening. the snow is falling heavy outside, piling up against the window. groundrumbler could perhaps be worrying about the lack of teammates at the base, aside from his unexpected friend.]

[...whom of which arrives after another moment, taking a seat next to groundrumbler.]

Chiliad: so! it's the new years and i'm still not acquainted with your buddies. wonder why they're taking so long?

[...no response. at least, not a verbal one. groundrumbler turns his eyes and gazes at chiliad, that dour expression of his unchanging.]

Chiliad: mmm. well, if you're gonna celebrate, you gotta have someone to celebrate with; here i am. [clink.]

[chiliad places a couple of energon cubes onto the counter. one for groundrumbler, one for himself.]

GR: [something unintelligible.]

Chiliad: mm?

GR: ...wanted to kiss him to start this one off right.

[Chiliad nods in response. he knows roughly what bonecrusher means to groundrumbler - if he is referring to bonecrusher. could be referring to one of the other mechs he's close with, and he's not judging.]

Chiliad: is it my place to pry?

GR: i'd prefer if you didn't... but i'm glad someone's here.

Chiliad: [he nods sagely, reaching for that mask on his face and disengaging it, resting it face-down on the counter next to his drink.] in all honesty, i'm glad i'm here, too.

GR: [... that's... a lot of scratches.] so that's why you've got the boiler plate on all the goddamn time. self-conscious?

Chiliad: more or less. i don't mind letting you look, though; i do plan on getting drunk, after all.

GR: ain't that the truth. [he lets out a light chuckle, clinking cubes with chiliad and taking a big ol' swig.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[homeboy can't sleep.]

[several unfinished cubes of energon litter the kitchen counters, bathing the kitchen in a familiar pink hue, just like the good ol' days. groundrumbler's insomnia keeps him functioning well enough to keep opening and downing the cubes like they're the only thing that's keeping him alive.]

[he's up for a reason other than the insomnia, however; he's texting nebula over the special terminal they installed inbetween grounded kitchen cupboards many moons ago, and has been for a good few hours now.]

grongulus: any updtes on the boner

[of course, since he's been awake for a little bit longer than he should be, it's taking quite the effort to continue even staying up, let alone typing nebula with a heavy buzz and a lack of sleep.]

funny wings go brr: not yet. the entire building consists of two sections: one aboveground, the other underground. the assault team's still working on razing the aboveground compound to its foundations.

[a tired chuckle escapes from the depths of groundrumbler's chassis.]

grongulus: you hav a sille name

funny wings go brr: tell me something i don't know.

grongulus: bet

grongulus: we have a new mmber

funny wings go brr: when did we get a new member??

[the power flickers a bit, likely from a lack of generator maintenance... or maybe it's due for a checkup. one or the other. at least groundrumbler can still talk to nebula.]

grongulus: bout two daes ago

grongulus: he broke into m bedroom but manged to convince me nit to kill him

grongulus: now he's m

grongulus: my bestie

funny wings go brr: you'll have to introduce me to him later, the guys need some orbital support. check back in an hour!

grongulus: k

/// funny wings go brr has gone offline. ///

[groundrumbler slumps back into the terminal seat. he's not happy about being left alone again, despite the presence of his newfound buddy sleeping in his bed. as much as he wants to go sleep now, he can't help but want to text someone.]

[why him? why did he have to stay back?]

[the thought dwells within his mind, unmoving and painfully tantalizing. he can't wait until everyone gets back home. the lack of voices is starting to get to him.]

[of course, he'll also have to keep awake for nebula, at least for another hour... the next morning is gonna be rough on him, that's for sure.]

[...hhhhhh, god.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

two of them

[one's not from here.]

...

[an exhausted groundrumbler wakes up from an unexpected nap. it's sure been a while since he's had any good naps, but this one was needed all the same... hell, he'll probably need another one if he turns out sour. doesn't like being sour.]

[he also remembers the unexpected guest he met last night, who's graciously provided their lap for him to rest on. sleeping on another's leg's isn't normally this comfortable for groundrumbler... he'll have to try it more often.]

[welp. day's gotta get suffered through one way or another. groundrumbler uses his early morning post-nap strength to straighten up and rise from off of his guest's legs, slumping onto his feet and stretching his arms above his head. he turns to see if the guest is still asleep.]

[yeah. he's out like a light. must've needed the sleep from hiding out in that insufferable weather - groundrumbler doesn't blame him. in fact, he probably needs a pick-me-up after all of that trudging that groundrumbler expects him to have done to get here.]

[scratching his armored belly, groundrumbler turns towards the bedroom door again and waddles his way to the kitchen. unlocking sequence takes a couple seconds - mostly because of the heavy duty locks inside the doors - but it slides up as well as any other day, so groundrumbler doesn't bother to complain.]

[hey look, it's the kitchen. cool. what isn't cool is the fact that groundrumbler doesn't have a clue on what the guest would want after a nap. would he want a cube of energon? engex? some of the special stuff? hell, maybe he's a coffee guy. only a guess can tell at this rate, so groundrumbler settles for a cube of energon. two, actually - an alcoholic one for himself and a normal one for chiliad.]

[entering his room again, groundrumbler stubs one of his feet against the doorframe, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood to avoid waking chiliad. as he hobbles forward on one foot instead of two, he barely makes it to the bed, placing chiliad's cube on the bedside table and sitting down next to him.]

[...he seems like he's in a pretty deep sleep.]

[...fuck it.]

[groundrumbler gently taps his cube of energon against chiliad's mask, which causes the latter to stir quite a bit. retracting his arm, groundrumbler watches on as chiliad wakes up.]

C: aw, geez... how... [chiliad rubs his mask, dazed and a little confused.] ...how long was i out for?

GR: bout as long as i was. ten hours, give or take. g'mornin', sunshine.

C: [a gentle chuckle.] g'morning. i see you're starting the day off strong, eh? [he uses a lazy digit to point at groundrumbler's cube of energon for emphasis.]

GR: yeah, you could say that. i got you one, too - a normal one. hope that's cool.

C: you shouldn't have. [a joke. he grabs the cube of energon off of the bedside table, cracking it open.] thank you kindly.

GR: you're welcome. gotta treat a guest with respect, eh?

[chiliad emits another chuckle at groundrumbler's reply, quite chill with his behavior so far.]

C: so... [he sips his energon with a straw.] any leads on your leader, or is that classified?

GR: [he returns a chuckle of his own.] as of right now, they've found a large autobot base operating along the shores of northern canada - somewhere in yukon, i reckon.

C: cool. buncha turrets and security guards?

GR: i hope not. no one's told me much beyond where it is. [he takes a sip of his energon.] pretty irritating.

[chiliad simply nods solemnly in regards to this. he knows what it's like to have a right to info that you're not getting, and how it could eat away at someone. saw it happen to someone back in the day.]

C: ...i appreciate your hospitality, by the way. quite the welcome change from the usual business of 'get in, get out'. though i do have a question about it; why?

GR: ?

C: why'd you keep me here?

GR: well... [he lets out a sigh, thinking of the right words to match what he's feeling about last night.] ... it's... lonely, not having anyone around. as much as i enjoy the peace and quiet, with occasional drinks to keep me company... i miss having my friends in arm's reach.

[chiliad gives groundrumbler a nod, listening intently.]

GR: that, and i fear that you may have been working with my sister. y'see, me an' her have some serious beef - i'll spare you the details - and she's been hunting me for a while now. feeds into my loneliness, really; if i don't have anyone around to protect me from her, i get antsy and short-fused.

C: i see. feel good to get that off your chest?

GR: ...[he averts his gaze, towards a wall.]

C: ...you want a hug?

[a gentle huff escaping his body, groundrumbler leans into chiliad's body and wraps his arms around the other's torso.]

[chiliad reciprocates, of course. poor bastard looked like he was gonna start tearing up, it's only polite that he'd offer a hug.]

[...feels like he's not gonna be moving any time soon. chiliad snuggles into the bed a little more to make himself more comfortable. in response, groundrumbler snuggles deeper into chiliad.]

[fuck it. war machine nap time.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

Swamplanding

[men on man action.]

[as has been posted recently, bonecrusher's current location is unknown. most of the team is focused on the logistics about finding the hunchback, how patchwork'll patch him up if he's injured, how they hope groundrumbler didn't fuck with anything back home.]

[the ones who aren't thinking of the logistics, simply put all of their energy and mental health into finding bonecrusher, no matter the cost. those in particular being the other three corners of the love square {BB, RJ, FM} for mostly obvious reasons, and his older brother who's just trying to see to it that bonecrusher still lives; gravedigger.]

[gravedigger and terraterror have been paired together to search in southern america - somewhere around florida, i would assume - based on some hints gravedigger brutally and also metaphorically ripped out of an autobot soldier.]

[here, we join the two in a small swamplandish area, wading through water as they search for somethin'.]

TT: ...so, fill me in here. what was it that 'bot two days back told you?

GD: oh, nothing in particular. just the fact that bay-op's captured him and is trying to brainwash him.

TT: i take it that's why you haven't been talkative?

GD: tch. sure.

[movement in the area ahead. terraterror and gravedigger's combined attention are locked ahead, their primaries whipped out in a sparkbeat.]

...

[no movements. may have been an alligator.]

TT: alligator?

GD: can't be too sure.

[the two cautiously continue ahead, both decepticons on high alert for any more movement. terraterror's turned his light bars on.]

[every step brings a heightened sense of anxiety within the two. gravedigger hadn't been trained for high-stress situations such as 'stalked in the swamp by an unknown threat', so he's a little more on edge than terraterror is in this situation.]

[...hours pass. the sun passes by overhead, silent as it's always been. the skies darken with every minute. terraterror's light bars are becoming more and more effective the closer the night comes.]

...

[the only thing on gravedigger's mind at this point is just seeing bonecrusher again, preferably alive.]

[a tree creaks, as if it were being weighed down. the decepticons' attentions whip over to the tree in question.]

??: Friendly, friendly. D-don't shoot.

[A wounded Autobot soldier stumbles into view, collapsing in the dirty water of the swamp.]

TT: prove it.

??: Look, I don't mean any harm- [The soldier hacks up a bit of blood, their faceplate having been damaged by the local alligators.] -w... what brings you two here?

TT: looki- GD: none of your fucking business, boy.

??: ...I guess it's too personal for you to reveal to a dying, nameless hunk o' scrap like me, eh?

GD: [approaching the soldier and digging into its back with his claws:] how do i know you don't have a direct commline to any high-ranking autobot scum?

??: K-knowing you Decepticons? Probably won't l-let me prove it before you kill me. I g-get it, just... c'mon. Let me rest for a bit.

[...an all too brief moment of silence is cut short by an irritable growl from gravedigger, whom drops the soldier back into the swampwater as requested.]

??: I take it you're... that one Decepticon's twin brother. Bone... something.

GD: smart bot.

TT: do you know where bonecrusher is?

??: ...He's not on any mainlands.

GD: any hemispheres?

??: Uhh... northern, I think.

TT: any more specific answers for us?

??: Look for Autobot defence systems around the Yukon. Optimus probably put down some turrets.

GD: ...yukon...

[the two decepticons think for a moment.]

TT: ...aw, fuck.

??: [The near-death soldier rights himself, leaning against the tree once more.] What's the sitrep?

TT: we've only sent one guy to yukon.

??: Should probably provide some backup, then - and good luck, as well.

GD: do you want to be put out of your misery?

??: No, thank you. I'll let the native lifeforms rip me apart if I don't die beforehand.

GD: mm.

[terraterror opens up a spacebridge with assistance from nebula over the comms, wiping his feet on the wet grass and wandering through.]

GD: for what it's worth... sorry about the aggression.

??: No, I get it. You're worried for your brother. Don't waste any time on me.

GD: ...alright. rust in peace, soldier.

??: Aye.

[gravedigger turns to leave, hopping through the spacebridge moments before it closes and leaving the autobot soldier to his fate.]

...

[Such is life.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

{would you believe me if i said this post was rotting in my drafts?}

[there's a hunchback laying on the table, whistling to himself.]

[a certain fellow comes to join him.]

BB: bonecrusher. hey. wanted to talk to you.

[bonecrusher directs his attention to bunkerbuster, a mild blush appearing on his face.]

BC: bro why are you not wearing your chestplate

BB: patch's washing it. since we're husbands now. i. uhm. wanted to make it official. that, and i noticed you and rockie don't wear rings. or you and munchie. so.

[bonecrusher's eyebrow raises.]

BB: [he presents a couple of small crates, opening them to reveal some custom rings.] a pair for you and rockie, a pair for you and munchie, 'n'... a pair for you 'n' me. [he also presents a bashful smile.]

BC, his soul touched: bro... [he reaches forward, letting bunkerbuster slip three of the rings onto his claws.]

[bonecrusher admires the rings on his fingers.]

BB: your thoughts?

[bonecrusher gets off of the table and hugs bunkerbuster tight, giggling into his chest.]

BB: ...glad you like 'em. [he slips on his ring, proud of himself.]

BC: i have to show these to rockie and munchie oh my god,,,

[bonecrusher slips out of bunkerbuster's arms and rolls into his room with a load of vigor.]

[bunkerbuster giggles, and takes himself a seat on the kitchen island.]

[he kicks his feel while he waits.]

...

[and his wait only takes five minutes.]

[bonecrusher returns, stars in his eyes as he pulls along rocketjumper and footmuncher out of his room. he's giggling like an engine that won't start.]

RJ: so, boney says you've made some neat wedding ringssss... i didn't know it was titties out tuesday.

BB: [a soft giggle.] had to put my carapace in the wash, sorry. yeah, i made some neat little rings to make the weird little love web official. well, almost official! [he presents rocketjumper's ring to her.]

RJ: ooh. oooohh. [she chuckles softly as she gazes at the ring in its box. stunningly seductive and a shimmering emerald green gem, reinforced for war and bloodshed.] oh my god... bunkie!! this is so nice!!! [she plants a sloppy and loving kiss onto bunkerbuster's lips, pulling away to slip the ring onto her right ring finger. she giggles as she watches it shine on her finger, loving the ring.]

FM: [footmuncher giggles at rocketjumper's reaction.] how silly... how nice.

[bonecrusher only watches as his wife enjoys her new ring. he wanders next to footmuncher, placing a claw onto his butt.]

BC: how lovely. eh, munchie?

FM: [footmuncher leans onto bonecrusher, kissing his cheek.]

BB: so! footmuncher. would you like to see your ring as well?

FM: hell yeah, homie. [he hops up as bunkerbuster presents footmuncher's ring to him. a glazed marble stone, reflecting rose and violet, with a hint of lavender. its reinforcement is not as tough as rocketjumper's ring's reinforcements, yet it is still strong. strong enough to strive and thrive throughout life.]

BB: [he watches on as footmuncher equips the ring.] so... your thoughts?

FM: [footmuncher moves past bunkerbuster's outstretched arm, wrapping his own around BB's waist and giving him a romantic and thankful kiss, right on the lips.]

[bonecrusher smiles quietly as he watches on, now being picked up by his wife.]

[bunkerbuster holds footmuncher close and returns his kiss with a welcoming hug around his back.]

RJ: ...wow. wasn't expecting the romance today.

BC: really? the day where we got our rings, you didn't expect the romance?

RJ: nah. expected more lust. [she chuckles after her quip.]

[bonecrusher kisses rocketjumper's cheek.]

RJ: well... what do we do now?

BC: i'ouno. i'm gonna stare at these rings.

[rocketjumper mumbles something only bonecrusher can hear as she turns to head into his room. they have a good ol' fashioned conversation inside.]

[yes the helicopter and the tank are still kissing. what can they say, they like the tastes of eachother's mouths]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[surprise.]

[bonecrusher and footmuncher are laying down on the couch, one delirious from post-repairs drugs, the other delirious from just waking up and trying to go back to sleep. in that order, yes.]

[they've been laying there for about an hour now.]

[...some brain cells rub together in footmuncher's head.]

FM: ...boney?

BC: ?

FM: didn't you say your older brother's coming over?

BC: ...mmm. why.

FM: i'unno if he's gonna be comfy in here.

BC: mmngh. [incomprehensible].

FM: you sure?

BC: [also incomprehensible].

FM: fair. you know him best, i trust your judgement.

BC: [more incomprehensibility].

FM: shit, really? i wanted to go back to sleep.

BC: [he shrugs, the gesture followed by further incomprehensibility.]

FM: ...alright.

[the two continue to lay on the couch in silence. cuddling a little bit and waiting for bonecrusher's brother to come on down.]

-

[...eventually, he arrives. a knock on the bunker door wakes the two couch potatoes up from their brief naps.]

FM: ...guess that's him. i'm gonna go answer the door.

BC: h.. no, it's fine. i got i- [severe pain shoots through all of bonecrusher's chassis, leading him to collapse back down onto the couch as he attempts to get up.]

FM: it's okay, boney. let me handle it this time, eh? get some more rest. you'll be fine.

BC: ...k.

[without wasting any more time, footmuncher goes to open the bunker door.]

[gravedigger finishes chugging a cube of regular energon, tossing it into a large storage crate fitted to be a rolling suitcase, and greeting footmuncher.]

GD: well, hell-o. aren't you a stunning chunka steel alloy.

FM: hi, yourself. bonecrusher's brother, i assume?

GD: eyup. name's gravedigger, wanted to pop in to see how the lil bro's doin'. life updates 'n' all that.

FM: cool. come on in, it's freezing cold outside and i bet you're already starting to crust over.

[gravedigger nods and grabs his suitcase, walking in as footmuncher closes the bunker door behind him. he places the suitcase on the kitchen counter, making himself at home as he tosses the emptied energon cube into the sink.]

FM: anything else in there, if you mind me asking?

GD: nah, not much. just a bunch of high-tech equipment. [he takes out an experimental weapon blueprint, handing it to footmuncher.] have a look at this. took a couple nights to develop the idea and i wanted to get some peer reviews down.

[footmuncher examines the weapon blueprint. it's for a medium-sized shoulder-mounted mini rocket pod system, connected to a large ammunitions pack system, seemingly fitted to attach to one's back and around the thighs. reminds him of a minigun.]

FM: what is this, a minigun for self-propelled rockets?

GD: that's the idea. i didn't build it with efficiency in mind, just wanted to have some fun. what do you think?

FM: hmm. pretty neat. i wonder if the other guys would like it.

GD: ooh, other guys? how many are there in here?

FM: bunch'a 'em. there's a couple tanks, a couple MLRS vehicles, some aeroplanes, a couple trucks. one of the MLRSs is a huge truck, and the other is a tank. there's even a dump truck in here.

GD: [he nods, intrigued.] and where's the bro?

FM: on the couch.

[bonecrusher waves his hand.]

BC: hey guts

GD: hey, bones malone. been a while. [he hobbles over to the couch, looking over and peering at his brother.] yeesh, you've been in better shape. how's it hummin'?

BC: not well. had to get another repair this week. i feel like patchie's starting to get tired of it.

GD: mmm. wanna cuddle your big bro for a bit?

BC: mhm

[gravedigger picks bonecrusher up off of the couch.]

GD: how's about a quick tour around the base?

FM: sure. come on over, have a look through some doors.

[gravediggers does so.]

[first door: patchwork's office. unfortunately, patchwork's neglected to remember that bonecrusher's bro was coming over today, and decided to take a ride on his favorite dildo. he looks up at his office door, does a double take, and whips his lab coat on.]

PW: [ahem-] apologies! i forgot you were coming over! hi!

GD: hey. your dick's glowing through your coat.

[patchwork looks down at the coat. sure enough, his dick is glowing through. he's embarrassed enough as it is.]

GD: we can talk after you're done. sorry for intrudin', doc.

[footmuncher closes the door, leaving patchwork to finish up while glowing rainbow and blue.]

[next door: bonecrusher's room, with a couple of drunks on the bed.]

[gravedigger leans in, looking around. couple of closets, couple of bedside tables. massive woman sleepin' on the bed. bulldozer dude next to massive woman chuggin' a cube. groundrumbler finishes the swig and looks over to the door.]

GR: howdy.

GD: nice to meet ya. i'ouno if you know me or not, but just incase ya don't, name's gravedigger. i'm bonecrusher's big brother.

GR: mm. groundrumbler, resident drunk... well, i drink the most, at least.

GD: who's the big lady?

GR: her name's rocketjumper. boney's married to her and they're both extremely horny for eachother. i ain't the same.

GD: built like a tank and fucks like one too, i imagine?

GR: what else would you expect? [chuckle]

GD: not much, really. haven't met a bot i can't fuck to a grey state yet, i'm sure she might be the one to put me in my own. er- if he's okay with that.

GR: they're polyamorous, don't worry about it.

GD: oh, nice. ...haven't heard that term before, though?

GR: neither of them really give a shit about who the other fucks, but they both have restrictions for the other. boney doesn't want rocketjumper fucking any Primes, and rockie doesn't want bonecrusher fucking any spiderformers.

GD: any reasons you're okay sharing?

GR: bonecrusher hates optimus prime - one of them. - and rockie's got a really personal reason about it. i think she might pummel me if i tell you.

GD: fair enough. here. [he places bonecrusher down on the bed.] take care of bonecrusher for a bit. gonna go continue my tour.

GR: a'ight. enjoy the tour.

GD: thanks. have a nice night, groundrumbler.

GR: you too.

[gravedigger leaves his brother with groundrumbler and rocketjumper, continuing to follow footmuncher throughout the base.]

GD: right. tour guide, where to next?

FM: hmm... how'zabout a quick pit stop over to my room? it's... well, not in the best shape ever, but it's still presentable, i think.

GD: we'll see. right down here?

FM: yep. [he opens the door to his bedroom.] have a peek.

[gravedigger does as asked. inside is, surprisingly enough, a room. one that looks like a metaphorical clothing bomb went off in there.. and reeks of unholy smells.]

GD: [due to how gravedigger's 'nose' systems work, he can only barely smell the foul stench.] ...what the hell is that smell?

FM: that... would be cum stains.

GD: cum stains.

FM: ...yeh.

[gravedigger blinks once at footmuncher, taking a moment to think about what he's gonna say next.]

GD: ...i knew bonecrusher told me he lived with some weird bots, but i didn't expect 'doesn't clean cum stains out of their room'-level weird.

FM: [short giggle.] yeah... sorry. it's been a while since i've actually slept in here. hey, off-topic question, who are your progenitors?

GD, catching FM offguard: ancient graves in the sea of rust.

FM: [blink] i... see. i'm sorry to hear that.

GD: nah, don't be. as long as i and bonecrusher function, as far as i care, they still function in spirit. been a while since i visited... i feel mean.

FM: well, better late than never! always nice to check in on your progenitors, whenever you can.

GD: mm. anyway, about the cum stains... how often?

FM: it's... mostly an 'on again, off again' sort of deal. sometimes, i'm absolutely rowdy, and other times i can't be bothered. why do you ask?

GD: just getting information on the dudes my bro lives with. seeing if you're trustworthy. y'know, older brother type shit.

FM: yeah. yeah, understandable, alright. any other rooms you wanna see?

GD: do you guys have a spare room?

FM: i think so! we keep a couple alternate universe bonecrushers in there.

GD: ...[blink.] real?

FM: totally!

GD: can i see?

FM: absolutely!

[footmuncher leads gravedigger by the hand down to the spare room, almost sprinting down the hallway in doing so.]

[he quietly opens the door. there's a large robot in the middle of the room, with a robot leaning against the near wall wearing a crown, and another, extremely rusty robot leaning against the crown-wearing bot.]

[gravedigger's attention is being tossed between the massive bot in the middle of the room and the two by the near wall.]

FM: sooo, whaddaya think?

GD: ...huh. cool!

FM: hell yeah. anywho, you wanna come see airstrike?

GD: m'alright.

[poppin' over to bonecrusher.]

BC: ...

GR: so, how's the recovery coming along?

BC: i do not feel good.

GR: yeah, stitches will do that to ya. i'm sure you'll be fine eventually. just take some time to rest. don't drink too much energon. the usual.

BC: mhm

GR: do ya want me to stick around?

BC: mhm

[groundrumbler takes a seat on the bed, resting next to bonecrusher.]

[bonecrusher wraps his arms around groundrumbler and pulls him closer, nestling his neck onto groundrumbler's shoulder.]

GR: ah. clever. [he chuckles, hugging bonecrusher in return.] you gonna conk out soon, 'crusher?

BC: m

GR: understandable. i'll be here when you wake up. [he pats his hunchback.] enjoy your nap.

BC: mm

[bonecrusher falls unconscious, snoozing in groundrumbler's arms.]

[now back to his brother.]

[gravedigger is sitting on the couch with footmuncher, chilling out with him. they both seem pretty tired.]

FM: ...so how did you like the tour?

GD: that shit went hard. not the best tour ever, but i had a nice view the entire time, so it's fine.

FM: [he emits a slight chuckle.] why, thank you. d'ya wanna have a nap?

GD: fuck yeah, dude.

[footmuncher pulls gravedigger down with him and cuddles with him on the couch.]

[gravedigger wraps his arms around footmuncher's waist, softly holding him close. footmuncher reciprocates.]

[overall, a pretty good night, eh?]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

{Asbeel lays down, upon the cold hard ground of Judecca.}

{Their corpse hasn't rotten a day ever since V1 struck them down with fury unequalled, their armor similarly unaged yet holding its damage. One imagines them comfortable in their current position.}

{...A flash of light appears in the empty void where two elevator doors should be, a large being following as the flash dissipates.}

{It... it's him.}

{The Father.}

[The Holy Father, Yahweh, steps forward towards Asbeel's stone-cold corpse, taking His helmet off as he analyzes their body.}

Yahweh: ...Oh, Asbeel. What happened to you, my friend?

{The Holy Father steps to the side of Asbeel's body, running His free hand around the bloodied cavity within their chest. He feels the excess energy from whatever attacked Asbeel, then noticing their armor. Chipped til rusting. He feels... disappointed, that His armor did not help Asbeel in their adventures.}

Yahweh: If only my work could help you thrive, Asbeel. I'm truly, deeply sorry.

{The Holy Father leans forwards, resting His forehead against Asbeel's chest.}

Yahweh: You will be missed. [untranslatable].

{The Holy Father straightens Himself again, patting Asbeel's chest, examining their armor further, analyzing just what happened to them and learning more and more of the information He needs over time.}

{...He then thinks of His Bible, wondering if... it would help. Even a little bit. He equips the Bible from His back pocket, opening and delicately flipping through its pages for something that may help.}

{Eventually, The Father learns that He does not have anything for helping corpses rest easier than they already do. So, in learning this, He pockets the Bible again and looks upon Asbeel's corpse, wondering if they would be a better fit somewhere else.}

{...Once more, eventually, The Father comes to a consensus: Asbeel is fine exactly where they lay. He rises to His feet, saluting Asbeel's corpse and heading to the exit elevator, teleporting the entire altitude in one go.}

{The Father feels He must punish a sinner once again.}

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[scene one. bonecrusher's sitting on the porch with a feeling of despair coursing through himself.]

BC, to himself: i feel like a failure.

[scene two. rocketjumper is in a bar halfway across the world, figuring out what flavor of energon she should taste next. her sixth sense goes off.]

RJ: hey, can you put this on my tab? i have a feeling my husband needs a cuddle, gotta go check on him.

Bartender: i hear ya. have a nice night, ma'am.

RJ: thank you kindly. you have a nice night as well.

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[bonecrusher's laying down in his bed. he's had a long, stressful day full of bullshit. bro needs a nap.]

[or a nice railing. he wouldn't complain.]

[over time, bonecrusher feels his conscious slipping away. little by little. second after second. maybe sometime soon he'll actually get a nap?]

[unfortunately, it seems the nap in question will have to wait. bunkerbuster makes himself known in the archway.]

BB: long day, homie?

BC: mmyup

[bunkerbuster walks in, closing the bedroom door behind him.]

BB: anything you wanna talk about?

BC: ...

[bonecrusher props himself up in a position that doesn't muffle his voice.]

BC: you ever get burnt out? like, you get a shit load of enthusiasm for something and you use it all up way too quick and you can't think of anything else to say or do so you feel useless?

BB: ...i don't know about the useless part, but i get where you're coming from.

BC: [boney shrugs.] i 'unno, i don't think you do.

BB: [snickering in response, bunkbed takes a seat next to boney, on his bed.] if you want me to talk about any of my old battles to you, i can. or if you want something else, like a quickie... well, y'know.

BC: ...m. rockie's out for the night, might be grabbing more energon for refinement or somethin', she neglected to tell me. not like she can't handle herself, just i get worried sometimes- point is. you wanna sleep with me tonight?

BB: me? [minor snort.] don't you usually have munchie for that?

BC: meh. he's been in a fugue state for a bit now. patch's been taking care of him. besides, i'm hankerin' for a big bulky lad to snuggle tight, and you're just my type.

BB: look at you, eh, prince charming?

[bunkerbuster pecks bonecrusher on the cheek.]

[in response, bonecrusher returns the kiss, kissing bunkerbuster on the lips and pulling him down onto the bed. he follows up by wrapping his arms around bunkbed's waist.]

BB: [giggle]. not so fast, my man. gotta get my armor off first for maximum comfort.

[following that comment, bunkerbuster sits back up over bonecrusher, popping his armor off and setting it next to the bed. chest armor first, then the shoulder pauldrons... he considers the crotch armor. not yet. off goes the leg armor, back plating... and he's comfy.]

[bonecrusher pops bunkerbuster's crotch armor off for him, setting it with the rest of his armor and freeing the meat underneath. back down comes bunkerbuster.]

BB: so you do want the dick, mmm?

BC: just a little more to fondle while we both wait to slumber.

[bonecrusher nestles his face inbetween bunkerbuster's pecs.]

BC, muffled: love you, hubby.

BB, wrapping his arms around BC: and i, you. sweet dreams.

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[bonecrusher's engine is rumbling in his sleep.]

[king pops by for a visit, letting himself in... through the kitchen window, no less.]

[upon hearing the snore-like roaring of bonecrusher's engine, king cautiously approaches the couch. he peeks over at bonecrusher, relieved that he wasn't some sort of demonic engine-related creature of sorts.]

[vibemaster appears behind king, coming from the hallway for a midnight snack.]

VM: rough night?

D!BC: assuming so. do other bots' engines vocalize like his?

VM: not that i've heard personally. patchwork seems like the type of guy to know about that stuff, might wanna ask him. in any case, i'm off to bed.

D!BC: before you leave, do you have any... new faces of sorts?

VM: uhh... three, if i recall correctly. maybe two. one's a guy nicknamed 'stonehenge' - old, rusty bonecrusher lookalike. then there's... i think they nicknamed her katyusha. she's what we used to call 'autobot rocketjumper', but someone figured she needed a better name. not my business to think about.

D!BC: mmm. enjoy your slumber, sir.

VM: and you as well. [vibemaster leaves for his bedroom.]

[king peeks over at bonecrusher again, to make sure he's not fully off his rocker.]

[...still bonecrusher. good. king folds his toes up, walking on his tires down the hallway.]

[after passing various doors labeled and decorated with details referring to the rooms within, king finds a door labeled 'SPARE', with a crude drawing of what king assumes to be stonehenge and katyusha. he creaks the door open quietly, disappearing into the room and closing the door just as quietly as he opened it.]

[king takes a seat on the floor, next to two slumbering beasts of metal, one monstrous and the other humongous.]

[king sits there, staring at the beasts. slowly, surely, he falls asleep.]

...

[king awakens from his slumber, covered in a blanket and one hand positioned around a cube of tea - a cold cube, but still. he's mildly forgotten where he is, but the memory of last night immediately reminds him. he feels as if he died, yet popped back to life.]

[king gets onto his feet. the two beasts he slept next to have left. with his new cup of tea and second cape (made of a blanket), he exits the spare room and sneaks through the hallway.]

[peeking through the hall's archway, king spies bonecrusher cooking some sort of material in a frying pan. he assumes bonecrusher can't hear him sneaking about and takes a seat in the living room.]

[of course, bonecrusher hasn't heard a sound since last night, barring rocketjumper's quiet snoring. he does pick up on king's tires making contact with the floor, not reacting to it.]

[king sits there in silence, in supposed stealth. he hadn't noticed footmuncher sleeping ass-up on the couch... and his eyes wander around footmuncher's frame.]

[...eventually, bonecrusher pipes up.]

BC: ...what brings you here this morning, king?

D!BC: shelter. i hadn't been told that you have eyes in your back. bonecrusher.

BC: trust me, there ain't no eyes back there. just sound-starved systems picking up on whatever they can. now, how're you?

D!BC: i'm... rather fine, i suppose. patchwork tells me that he wants to perform an operation on me. figured i'd pop in as soon as possible.

BC: mm. any ulterior motives?

D!BC: not particularly. i could be popping by because i'm lonely for once. i might be visiting because i'm worried about my dementia. i might just be appearing because, hey, fuck it. who knows?

BC: i get that. not sure if i get it to a depth that matters to you, but i do get it. sometimes you get too lonely.

[bonecrusher sets aside the spaghetti meat, allowing his mine defusal claw to finish the spaghetti.]

D!BC: ...what's it like?

BC: ...

D!BC: the, eh... being a part of a team, working with others to obtain a common goal, the... not being alone.

BC: huh. well, after an eternity of being a lone wolf and doing damn near whatever i wanted, even though i got struck down by optimus prime... it's a breath of fresh air. i... [bonecrusher can't find any more words to explain his situation.] ...yeah. breath of fresh air. why do you ask?

D!BC: i'd like to move in, for what it's worth. my old kingdom grew tiring and empty... and lonely. i feel as if i was alone for too long. i desire something else, and what else is better than living with another version of me.

D!BC: of course, blindly hoping that you'll accept me immediately is a fool's errand. if this is simply a visit, so be it. i would prefer for it to be something more, but... [he sips his tea once it reaches a bearable temperature.] you can't have everything.

BC: you'd be surprised 'bout how many spare rooms i have. that, and you're a capable warrior; i'd be a moron to let you freeze outside. where do you want to sleep?

D!BC: ...there was a particularly comfy room down the hall. the one with the mattresses in the center. i'd like to sleep in there, if possible.

BC: not a problem. the two bots in there seem to like having you around, judging by the cube of tea and blanket cape. did you leave any sentimental objects back at your old base that you wanna go back for, or are you fine?

D!BC: [he looks himself over. sword's in its sheath. he doesn't remember having anything else.] i'm fine.

BC: nice. if you want something to chow down on later, i'm trying out a new recipe that i think the guys'll like. have fun with your second nap of the day, king.

D!BC: thank you deeply for your hospitality.

[without another word, king gets out of the seat he took earlier, hugs bonecrusher, and heads down the hall.]

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

BC: d'you know if anyone's able to see the future?

PW: not entirely. the only character closest to holding an ability like seeing the future could be tricky, but i've not seen him here for a long while.

BC: damn. thanks, doc.

PW: my pleasure. have a nice night, bonecrusher.

[bonecrusher leaves patchwork's office.]

[taking a seat on one of the unusual seats in the kitchen, bonecrusher begins daydreaming. it's been a while since he'd been seen in any significant form on tumblr. mostly just looking at things he likes. maybe his time is coming. maybe it's already come and he's prolonging the inevitable. he doesn't know. he'd rather take ignorance to that.]

[A glow of red suddenly appears in bonecrusher's peripheral vision. he takes a look.]

{A nearly ten-foot suit of armor, with hints of glowing red and wings of pissed-off gold. They wield a crowbar, its tipped glowing red as well. The suit of armor stared deep into whatever soul Bonecrusher held within.}

[whatever this thing is, it's not tricky. bonecrusher feels a wave of dread wash over his frame.]

{Neither beings talked to one another; Bonecrusher, because he doesn't trust the other one, and Asbeel because they can not communicate.}

[should he attack? should he try and throw it out the window? what does he do about this one? why is he freaking out abo-]

{This is the wrong dimension. They should be facing the blue robot that reaches no higher than their knees. A 'Go-Pro', the mortals called it... whatever that is. Instead, they stare down the twin, glowing barrels o-}

[-but it looks like tricky... but it's not tricky... but it looks like tricky... but it's not tricky... but it looks like tricky... but it's n-]

{-he beige of his armor is sharp with rage and REEKS of caked blood where no cleaning tool can reach. Asbeel believes that this beast goes by the name of 'Bonecrusher', from what they've read from the Bible, but the Bible did n-}

[-what is with that crowbar? what's with the black armor? who IS that? -]

{- ...How did they know that? From one name, in the only book they've known, know that the name applied to this... this... thing? What...? Asbeel simply confuses themselves further. They cannot communicate. They want to greet this beast ahead. Th-}

[- he can feel his knees creaking. every inch of armor. spare follicles of remains within each panel. he does not want to do anything. he doesn't want to imagine anything about this mortally-shaped monster. it is not mortal. it is unknowable, its name lost to time-]

{-1', was it? 'V1' should be encountering the last of Hell's forces... and Gabriel... in Treachery. This room reminds Asbeel of Treachery... the outsides, at least. The insides look too human. Humanity always disgusted Asb-}

[-WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS THING??? god, okay. no. that's enough. bonecrusher gets out of his seat, and heads back to patchwork.]

...

{That was a pleasant 10 minutes. Asbeel's unseen eyes fly around the room they've found themselves in. Michael would love this room, what with the massive brick and its matching lever-type object, decorating its frontmost side. Asbeel at least assumes that.}

{As well, Asbeel's eyes grace the pleasantries of the 'pocket of Treachery' behind themselves. Quite the intriguing area. Asbeel dec-}

[bonecrusher returns, pointing at whatever that impostor happens to be. patchwork remains intrigued.]

PW: why, i believe that's an archangel. nothing to be afraid of. they certainly look terrifying, but... did they tell you to 'be not afraid'?

BC: ...no.

PW: mmm. 'asbeel', is it?

{Asbeel simply stares at the smaller - yet still massive - being.}

PW: ...they did write that asbeel cannot speak. how wonderful to see one in our kitchen, eh? [he equips a camera, pointing it at the archangel.]

{Asbeel's eyes measure the new object within the smaller one's hands. They believe it's called a projector... but it does not have the circles on top. They suppose it must be something else... a weapon. Asbeel holds out their crowbar.}

[the camera flashes.]

{Asbeel cannot see.}

PW: ...isn't that amazing? they even posed. look at that, eh, bo-

BC, pushing PW into his office: dude they're shaking let's go let's go let's go

{His speech fading into the noise, 'Bonecrusher' continued dragging the smaller one to somewhere Asbeel cannot hear. Now all that remains is the noise.}

{The noise that blinds.}

{Everything is gone. All that is... is white.}

{God.}

{Father. Please.}

{I need your help.}

{I want to talk.}

{I need to see.}

{O Holy Father, help me to see if you remain alive.}

{Please...}

{Gabriel?}

{GABRIEL! PLEASE! ANYONE!}

...

{...}

{...}

...

...

...

{...}

...

{Judecca.}

{Thank the Father, Asbeel is saved.}

{Looking onwards... oh. How pleasant.}

{Gabriel stood, pointing at Asbeel with Justice and Splendor.}

Gabriel: ... ... ... ... ... ...

{Asbeel drops their crowbar, collapsing to their knees.}

Gabriel: ...oh, thank you, my Holy Father. Thank you for finally pacifying them.

{Gabriel steps warily towards Asbeel, ginger on his toes. He'd not thought that Asbeel could ever cool themselves... but today marks the day that Judecca worked into his goals.}

{...then he hears their sobbing.}

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[doctah, doctah, doctah.]

[patchwork is sketching some planets in his notepad, seeming a little downtrodden.]

[a wild curbstomper appears, hauling a box of chemical weapons.]

CS: hey, big guy! need some help finding a place to put my tools. any suggestions?

PW: anywhere.

CS: nice, thanks. [he shuffles in, placing the box on an empty counter.] hey, you ain't lookin' too bright there, chap. how many stormclouds've you got floatin' around your helm?

PW: ...one. had a nightmare.

CS: mind delving a bit deep into the specifics for me?

PW: no. saw bonecrusher on the operating table, rusting like how ironhide had in dark of the moon, but slower. i didn't know how to save him. feel terrible about it.

CS: mmm. that's gotta smart, eh? i'm sure you'll recover smoothly. everyone always does around 'ere... strange, if you ask me.

[patchwork nods in agreement.]

CS: need a cube?

PW: that'd be nice.

CS: alright. back in a flash. [curbstomper exits patchwork's office.]

[with curbstomper gone, patchwork continues sketching planets.]

[...it takes a bit, but curbstomper returns, with a cube of strawberry energon for patchwork.]

PW: thanks.

CS: not a problem. you enjoying sketching planets?

PW: it's a nice break from humanoids.

CS: so it would seem. no other thoughts aside from bonecrusher meltin' in your nightmare?

PW: ...hope it doesn't happen for real. not much else. just tryin' to figure out how to draw these damned rings on saturn. never was good at depth perception with this type'a scrap.

CS: try sketchin' a record. always works for me.

PW: mm.

CS: ...alright, i'll leave you to it. have fun, doctor.

[patchwork nods, patting curbstomper's shoulder to bid him farewell.]

[curbstomper heads out.]