#mecha rl writing

[keferon]

Part 2 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rod playing air hockey with their remaining brain cells!

Ratchet desperately plays referee.

———————————————————————

The morning Sun was poking Ratchet in the eyes. He scrubbed one hand over his face while the other groped down the side of his recliner for the lever to drop his feet.

There was one more blanket on him than what he’d gone to sleep with.

Daw.

Ratchet needed something bitter immediately to compensate.

Rolling out of his chair with a patented old man grunt, Ratchet was about to get coffee when he realized there was a distinct lack of nitwits harassing him.

Ratchet could hear Hot Rod and Deadlock outside and turned heel to enforce some basic self preservation. He paused, and grabbed a broom for good measure.

Sitting crisscross on the pavement, Deadlock was rolling Hot Rod from one hand to the other and back again. The pilot alternated between somersaulting, sliding and swinging back and forth all while not breaking conversation.

“So you caught on fire and just kept fighting anyways?”

“Yup! Turned out to be an awesome way to get out of any grapple instant-“ Hot Rod huffed, tucking into another roll, “-taneoulsy!”

Ratchet cleared his throat and Deadlock instantly closed his hands around Hot Rod like a kid caught playing with something he shouldn’t have.

“Watcha got there?”

“Nuthin.” Said Deadlock.

“Nuthin.” Said Hot Rod, muffled.

Deadlocks face was twitching more and more the longer he tried to keep an innocent expression. He didn’t even bother trying to suppress the way his finales wriggled in clear amusement.

Hot Rods red mop of a head popped up between Deadlocks thumbs.

“Mornin Ratch! How’d ya sleep?”

Ratchet put the broom down, for now.

“I slept surprisingly well. And don’t call me Ratch.”

“Deadlock gets to call you Ratch! He also calls you HRUMF-“ Hot Rod was unceremoniously cut off. Deadlock frowning down at his re-clasped fists.

Ratchet couldn’t quite make out what his mech was muttering but it sounded suspiciously like “Little snitch.”

Before Ratchet could tell him to let Hot Rod go, both of Deadlocks finales snapped back with a twinned sharp CLACK.

“EUAGH.”

Deadlock whipped one hand away, shaking it vigorously while the other held Hot Rod upside down.

“He licked me!”

“And I’ll do it again!” Hot Rod yelled, tiny fists raised in victory.

Ratchet got the broom back out, “Kid, put him down. Gently. And Hot Rod, stop fucking licking people.”

Adequately humbled by threat of bristly doom, both dipshits complied.

Hrmph.

“Okay, Roddy, you know the drill before I’ll let you you head back to base.”

Hot Rod sighed in overdramatic resignation before plopping his butt on an often forgotten picnic table that got more use from spiders than humans. Deadlock rested his chin on his un-licked hand and watched curiously.

Ratchet appreciated that, though he wouldn’t admit it. Deadlock was always quiet and thoughtful while Ratchet worked. Kid had an uncanny talent for anticipating what Ratchet needed and picked up on when the bioengineer worked beyond his limits. Well, tried to work beyond his limits.

Since Deadlock started living with him, Ratchet never got away with overworking anymore. He was a big fella with a fearsome temper that dissuaded most folks from pushing him. Previous challengers that tried to force Ratchet to maintain a work-life balance usually gave up on him around the same time the first throwable object goes sailing towards their face.

Deadlock just snorted and put his foot down.

Literally.

He put his foot on top of a piece of particularly contentious machinery that had been driving Ratchet up the wall, refusing to move until he agreed to a “Power Nap” that ended up lasting 6 hours.

Ratchet snorted at the memory and pulled out a pen light as he started Hot Rods physical.

“Hey how far do you think you could throw me?”

Ratchet felt his soul sigh.

“Dunno, couple hundred feet? You’re pretty light.”

“Do not encourage him.” If Ratchet got any satisfaction from Hot Rod wincing as he checked his pupil dilation, then that was his business.

“Okay, but what if I was in a roll cage? It’d be heftier to throw AND safer. Ratchet! You could even design one so it’s definitely up to spec!”

Ratchet was going to get an ulcer from second hand stupid.

He pinched the bridge of his nose very hard before speaking, “You want me to make you a human sized hamster ball so Deadlock can bat you around like a spoiled house cat?”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

Hot Rod mumbled dejectedly to himself while Ratchet tested his range of motion. Once satisfied, Ratchet moved onto the question’s section.

“Alright Roddy, any headaches?”

“No.”

“Nausea?”

“No.”

“Balance issues?”

“You saw me do a whole gymnastics routine on a giant vampire-space-robot.”

“Hrmph. Light headedness?”

“No.”

“Lapses in consciousness?”

“Sleeping count?”

“Hot Rod.”

“Joking! And no.”

“Blurry vision, ringing in the ears or sensitivity to light or noise?”

“Nope, nope, and nope! I’m fine Ratchet!”

“I’m fine Ratchet? You know how many currently dead pilots have said that to me?”

“Well, Pharma signed off on-“

Ratchet slammed the penlight down on the cracked wood table with more force than necessary, making both the pilot and the mech jump.

“Pharma is a conceited piece of SHIT and the only thing his ‘Sign Off sheets’ are good for is WIPING. MY. ASS.”

Ratchet forced air through his nose. Both Deadlock and Hot Rod frozen in place, wide eyed and tense.

Shit.

Ratchet broke the unintended stare down by scrubbing a hand over his face. He should really shave.

“Sorry. You’re not in trouble. It’s just-“

“Pharma.” Hot Rod finished. “It’s okay doc, I get it. You got waaaay higher standards than him. S’why I keep coming back. I trust you. And I know no matter how bad things get you’ll always have our backs, and we’ll have yours.”

It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to fight for people like Hot Rod.

“Plus,” Hot Rod leaned towards Deadlock and yell-whispered dramatically. “He’s been a huge asshole ever since Ratchet dumped him.”

It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to strangle people like Hot Rod.

“Stop phrasing how I left the mecha program like that. It wasn’t just Pharma I had issues with.”

Ratchet tucked his penlight away and ignored the murderous plotting he could feel wafting off of Deadlock. Don’t kill my “ex” coworker was still a rule in effect until further development.

“Last question. Any weird pressures?” Ratchet did finger quotes around the last two words and waited.

Hot Rod was about to automatically say No again but stopped short, and visibly did a mental check of himself.

“Uh, kind of around my stomach and the top of my thighs?”

Ratchet hummed, “Alright, pull up your shirt a little.”

Hot Rod did as he was told, just above the waistband, Ratchet could see some mild day old bruising.

“Yep, that’s what you get for flinging yourself through a car window instead of using the door ya dingbat.”

Ratchet straightened up and appraised the pilot one more time.

“Alright, make sure you put some ice on that when you get back. Otherwise you’re good to go.”

Hot Rod pulled his shirt back down and broke into a grin.

“Thanks Ratchet! See you guys again soon! Don’t do anything awesome without me until then okay?” Hot Rod pointed back to Deadlock for that last bit and waited until he said “On my life!” before finally driving off with a wave goodbye.

—————————

They had each finished their breakfasts, oatmeal and horrible alien blood respectively, when Ratchet said “I need to talk to you about something.”

Deadlock tensed, plating pulling in close before loosening again. Kid probably thought he was in trouble but could tell immediately that Ratchet wasn’t upset with him. He wasn’t sure how the mech did it, but damn if it didn’t make talking to him easier.

“What’s up?” He wiped quintesson gunk from his mouth.

“You gotta be careful with Hot Rod. You really cannot feed into any crazy ideas he has because he will get hurt and it will be by accident.”

Deadlock pinned his finales back and crinkled his nose. “I was careful Ratch. I did everything the way you taught me. I didn’t pick him up by the head, didn’t squeeze him too hard or nothin. And I was ready to stop at any second the moment he said anything hurt!”

“Kid.” Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. He can’t.”

Deadlock tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

———————————————————————

It’s getting real late again and I’ve already resigned myself to making this a three parter.

This time on the Trio of Friendship and Bad Ideas: Deadlock gets to play with a human slinky, Ratchets looses his sanity and something is up with Hot Rod.

Secrets of the mecha programs side effects will be revealed! Next time.

- SSTP

The way I legitimately can't stop smiling while reading this.....

The way your writing feels like a beam of pure joy flashbanging me through the screen. I can't evenKTYLGMNFHD I DONT FUCKING KNOW WHAT ARE YOU ADDIND IN YOUR WRITING BUT THIS STUFF IS ADDICTING PLEASE KEEP IT UP 👁

Also the mental image of Roddy being a human equivalent of a fidget toy for Deadlock is so entertaining I couldn't resist drawing it jfyjncfh

Roddy still doesn't have a design...oh well........

[touchmycoat]

Hi Mido I don’t have much to say this time (maybe I’ll send another ask, I’m not very sure)! If you want you can disregard my previous asks 😅 I just finished the whole novel and I very much cried at the end hehe that’s it! Tho I’m still missing the extras but it’s almost 2am here so :PP

Ah and good morning for you! Have a nice day~

YAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS holy hell you slammed through that novel at the speed of light. sorry i wasn't faster about replying TTTTT rl's been running me ragged

BUT I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED OKAY OKAY. Tell me your thoughts on Hualian, all their back and forth and secret devotions and 800 years and 'oh were you talking shit about dianxia? no problem i'll just eviscerate you' and THE CAVE WITH THE STATUES AND THE GIANT MECHA BATTLE.

the fucking coffin kiss lakjdsnflaksjdf yeah the bingqiu energy, mxtx really has a thing for coffins doesn't she. i mean, mood. and do you like how they literally built the coffin themselves and was like "oh noooo it's too small, huh, guess we'll just have to embrace each other ever-so-tightly and take the opportunity to express our respective top/bottom/switch preferences what do you mean we could've just made it bigger that makes no sense"

and tell me your quanyin thoughts!! Yeah jesus christ i feel so bad for yin yu but i also adore quan yizhen with my whole heart, and like, mxtx took SUCH an interesting direction with them and they're honestly my favorite side story?

WELL OKAY NOBODY BEATS HE XUAN FOR ME. Like, the fucking TRAGEDY of him. The man who should've become a god gets everything stolen from him for literally no other reason than coincidence. Because he just HAPPENS to be born at the same time as SQX and have the same character in his name. Gets completely beaten down by life and still finds the strength while dying to become a Calamity, does the most hardcore undercover gig in the entire universe, finds the time to exact his revenge only for Hua Cheng's dearest Dianxia himself to throw every single wrench in his works and he can only scramble to work around Xie Lian ndjfnksjdnfk. And then at the end to exact the revenge he wanted. Fuck me up. Fuck! me! up!!!!!! he's so fucking hot!!!!!!!!!! HIS REALM IS WATER AND HE FUCKING TOOK EVERYTHING BACK FROM SWD!!!!!!!!!! ugh, goddamn, i love this guy.

and SQX!! good for him!!! like honestly, his strength of character really shined through at the end there!!!! That's what he chose, after all, when HX gave him the choice, and I really do think he can live a good life chilling out there with the beggar bunch. Putting him and SJ together would be such a fun plot experiment, wouldn't it—completely opposite trajectories of life, and completely different attitudes about the respective places they ended up at.

also SWD. Like, I fucking love this guy. I'm all in favor of him getting super murdered, but i really, really love him. He fucks. MXTX always goes ham with the side stories that share the same frequency as the main story, and SWD, like XL, is the guy who takes the third option. He decides his own fate and nobody else. Except, ofc, XL has a bottom line—and XL would've never been the same manner of god as SWD but he certainly came close to trampling over the lives of others to satisfy himself. Anyways, everything about SWD fucking slaps, his Water Tyrant nickname, when he says he makes choices about his life, not the gods...goddamn. The fact that he dies just makes me hornier for him.

snickers you're right, what's up with the da-ges losing their heads. The good thing about SWD though is that I don't think I could bring myself to write the decapitated skull-fucking of my dreams with NMJ, but I can certainly do it with SWD sjdfnkdsjfnksjdnfkjsdnkfsd

[abdomented]

Hey, I was referred to you by an author who thought you'd be a good fit for the fetishes I'm interested in, would you be interested in writing me a story on commission?

Hi, thanks for reaching out… I would be interested!

Here’s the skinny…

First and foremost, YOU MUST BE OVER 18 TO COMMISSION ME.

Also, if you haven’t already, go ahead and review my writing tag and make sure my style is what you’re looking for (obviously the whole tag isn’t formal fic, but I try to only tag things that exhibit at least some writing skill).

WILL WRITE

Any kinks I’m into (bellies, whump, body horror, medical, preg, xeno, etc.)

A lot of kinks I’m not into (I’m not squicked by much), just check with me beforehand - I reserve the right to turn down writing a particular kink, or to charge an extra $5 flat fee for writing something I’m not into

OCs or fanfic are both fine, but PLEASE SEE BELOW for other character restrictions

WILL NOT WRITE

UNDERAGE ANYTHING. This includes any character who is under the age of 18, aged-up fanfic of a character who is underage in canon, and high schoolers. (If they’re a high school senior and over 18, I GUESS it’s fine, but it still kinda skeeves me out.)

Scat (constipation/belly related stuff is fine but won’t write about anything kinky happening during/after defecation lol)

Furry (Anthro/hybrid characters are a maybe, but I’m really most comfortable writing humans)

MLP

Mecha

HOW TO COMMISSION ME

Please send me an email at ripleysixteen@gmail.com with the following:

What you want me to write (including do’s and don’ts, kinks to include, characters, etc.)

Target length of the fic/story (number of words)

That email will kick off a consultation period where I may ask you a few follow-up questions. I’ll then give you a price quote and receive your commitment in writing. You will not be invoiced for anything until I get your written commitment. (I.e. the consultation period is free, and you have not commissioned me until we both agree on what’s being written.)

PRICING & PAYMENT

I charge a fee of $2.50 USD per 100 words. Here are some sample breakdowns of what that shakes out to:

500 words = $12.50 USD

1000 words = $25 USD

2000 words = $50 USD

…and so on and so forth

There are a couple things that could earn you a discount:

If you recommend someone else to commission me, and they go through with it, I’ll give you a 20% discount (or a refund worth 20% of what you already paid for a finished fic)

You commission a story about my own OCs, hehe - that will also get you 20% off

I only accept payment through PayPal - I will give you all of that info once you give your written consent for me to start the commission. Here’s how it goes once we agree to get started:

I PayPal invoice you for 10%, NONREFUNDABLE before I start writing. I DO NOT begin writing until I receive that.

Once I am halfway done, I will send you a preview. If you like the preview, I will keep writing. If not, we will agree to go our separate ways and I won’t charge you any more.

Once I am completely done, I will send you a full fic. I’m fine doing 1-2 rounds of revisions complementary as long as it’s not egregious. Once you’re satisfied with the end product, I will invoice you for the remainder of the full commission price.  

If you let me get through writing the WHOLE FIC and THEN decide you don’t want to pay… let’s be real, I don’t have any legal means to enforce that you pay me. I’m a kink writer, doing this mostly for fun, and I don’t want to get my RL self embroiled in a big feud, legal or otherwise. HOWEVER. I DO reserve the right to COMPLETELY put you on blast in some kind of “writer beware” format on tumblr and wherever else, with receipts.

THANK YOU so much for your interest. I look forward to working with you. Regards, Ripley

[teacupconfections]

Commissions :: OPEN

i swear i am never good at writing these, so here goes~ (( !!! PLEASE NOTE !!! Onceler Project pieces are completely free to the fandom, as they are a gift! the only reason for commission of your Ler is if I have already drawn them and you are looking for more art of them OR if its silly doodles ))

Cheebs :: 10$ each

- Full body and Full color - it is +5$ for each additional characters (ie. a couple pc would be 15$) - at least 1 ref/link to blog would be much appreciated~!! - please provide any specific info (ie. their personality or certain things lik they have freckles OR wear a certain thing ALWAYS) - Want to have the pc mailed to you ??? add +2$ for shipping and provide your address in your message~

Silly Doodles :: 5$ each or 5 doodles for 20$

- vary and partially colored - VERY SIMPLE, very silly and over exaggerated !! - can be used as askblog responses :3c - it is +3$ for each additional characters (ie. a couple would be 8$) - at least 1 ref/link to blog would be much appreciated~!! - please provide any specific info (ie. their personality or certain things lik they have freckles OR wear a certain thing ALWAYS) - WITH THESE :: also please provide the scenarios for the doodle, does not have to be specific (ie. i want this character to be lovey dovey/blushing OR i want this character to be flailing around OR i want these 2 characters to be arguing (sadly or angrily), etc)

BONUS

Sketch Cards / ATCs :: TRADE OR SALE

- VISIT my instagram for all the ATCs i’ve done thus far :: teacupconfections - im getting back into the ATC business and i am DEF willing to trade with others - card size :: 2 1/2 by 3 1/2 - STYLE VARIES depending on my mood OR the character - i do up to 3 for 3 trades ^w^ - also always includes a bonus sketch ‘thank you’ card (no need to reciprocate)

- if you don’t want to trade, but wish to buy some instead - i sell them 10$ each or 3 for 25$ - +a bonus sketch ‘thank you’ card

- no need to provide refs UNLESS they are OCs you are wanting to be drawn or the character you request that you want in a certain outfit (ie. requesting Yuuri Katsuki and want him in his FS outfit) - NO EXTRA COST for shipping for trades OR purchase of ATCs

...

i believe that is all concerning samples

:: DONT’S OF ART ::

nsfw

nudity below the waist

i sometimes have trouble with mecha or furry BUT am willing to do

backgrounds also vary, i can only do simple ones

once we get all commission details confirm, i shall send paypal info commissions and ATCs take TOP priority, but due to rL work schedules, they can take anywhere to 3 days TO 2 weeks. if itll be longer than that I WILL INFORM YOU, but normally does not take longer

where can I message you?

my email (i check twice a day) :: rzamora1992@gmail.com on Tumblr (always here) :: @sunflower-artdoodles [askbox] on Instagram in DM (checks many x daily) :: teacupconfections

have any other questions, just send me a message ^w^ !!

Thanks for your interest, much love~

[solar-born]

Get to Know The Mun

TAGGED BY: (I steal from @wraithslight) TAGGING: @awokenguardians-reborn

BASICS: Name: Mecha (mutuals that I talk with regularly with can ask for my rl name) Age: 20 Preferred pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Pansexual Zodiac sign: Cancer

THREE FACTS: 1. Mun will never be over Raidou Kuzunoha the XIV and how fucking amazing he is (and why Persona has 10 games, 4 movies, 3 animes and 3 manga while my boy only has 2.5 games and a single 6 book manga I mean I love persona so much but damn Atlus give my son the love he DESERVES)

2. Mun is an education major (she enjoys suffering)

3. If you name a fandom mun likes there is a 95% chance mun has RP someone from that fandom. 

EXPERIENCE: How long (months/years?): 9-10 years??? Platforms you’ve used: tinierme, deviant art, kik, text messaging, some various chatrooms, tumblr (I send fics back and forth to my friends so gmail kinda)

Worst Experience: I had an awful experience in this fandom late last year, and there might people that now consider me “petty” or terrible but it is okay. What happened was not my fault and not my job to fix. It still feels fresh talking about it openly, but I’ve moved on for the most part. 

Best Experience:  While I’ve had some bad experiences here, over this past year here I feel like I’ve really found a nice niche.  I’ve made some great friends some of which I hope are life long.

MUSE PREFERENCES: Female or Male: Male Favorite Face: Well Blaine for original face but I have a personal OC whose faceclaim is a younger Russell Crowe and I just *deep sigh*

Least Favorite Face: I don’t have one for my ocs and all the ocs I see are always hella fine Multi or Single: multi-ship/verse so au separated unless discussed 

WRITING PREFERENCES:

Fluff, Angst or Smut: All three baby *wink wink*

Plots or Memes: Depends on my mood, I love long plot filled threads, but sometimes a quick short meme thread is just what I need. 

Long or Short Replies: Once again it depends on my mood but also my muse. Haru’ul tends to get longer replies out of me in recent memory, not that Blaine hasn’t before, it’s just always been easier for me to write slightly more villianous characters.  

Best Time to Write: Literally anytime the mood strikes me

Are You Like Your Muse: There are certain parts of me that are similar to Blaine and Haru’ul, but there are also areas were I wish I could be more like them. I want to be as good at cooking as Blaine is and as kind as he is and I want to be able to use my anger to my advantage like Haru’ul.

[angelicwritingoflesilva]

Monday, W1 - Sci-Fi Brainstorm

alright, so I’m going to be honest for a second.

I misread part of the prompt. :p

So, for quite a long time, I was brainstorming for a character whose traits began with the letter g. Of course, I scrapped the idea so I could actually follow the prompt, but here’s what I came up with for that particular prompt:

Game Writer

Small part of an up-and-coming sci-fi video game. Writes themselves into one of the characters, and spends most of their time pretending to be strong, thinking of themselves as that character. Possible parallel story between character in VG and character in RL? The hospital bit at the end could be something a dying family member/loved one of the character. Maybe the VG character is a super medic or something?? Drop hints throughout story to foreshadow wanting to save someone.

And then I realized that I had misread the prompt. So, I got back to the drawing board.

I looked first for the character’s job. Surprisingly, not a lot of jobs end with g, but I did find “Navy Rating” which is your position in the Navy. That gave me the idea to set this story on the ocean.

At first, I was thinking that my character, who was decided to be male at this point, would be skilled in engineering, and would be working aboard a giant mecha-ship. It would practically be a floating city, on some planet, later to be decided. (perhaps there to oil drill/fish?)

Then, that lead to the idea of having raiders, alien pirates of a sort, to raid the ship. They would have targeted the engine room, and, as a result, almost all of the engineers were killed. The main character was the only survivor, but he was in critical condition. However, without him, the ship would need to return to its home colony right away, and hope to God that nothing went wrong. At the end of the story, the main character would express his exhaustion, his sadness, and his boredom of life, before dying onboard the ship. Without an engineer on board, the ship would turn around back home.

Obviously, there would be some issues with this story. Such as: what is the likelihood that all of the engineers would be in the engine room at once? Do I really want my first story to end with my main character dying? Why would the engineer give up his fight with death when there were thousands of people onboard the ship? Perhaps all of these issues could be solved if I scaled down the ship, but then it wouldn’t fit the subcategory of mecha, which is just a large amount of big ol’ machines.

So, I continued to think. I liked the idea of the story being set on the sea and some type of pirates being involved. I had also just read “The Bitter Side of Sweet” (read my review if you’d like! Click this to read it!), and that story definitely influenced what I finally settled on.

The main character would be a young, slave boy. He came from a rich family, but, when they went on a cruise and had to (due to unfortunate weather) sail through a dangerous area, his ship was attacked by three ships that made a temporary alliance to capture more slaves. His mother and younger sister were killed in front of him. His oldest sister would wind up on another ship (one that would later be raided by the “good guys” to free the prisoners there) but he and his father were lucky enough to be placed on the same ship. The father barely ate the food given to him, giving as much of it as possible to his son. Obviously, the father grew weak and died of something (tbd). The young boy was heartbroken but realized that if he could get other people to care for him, they might give him food. So, he sought out the elderly, the kind-hearted, the few childless mothers onboard and begged for food. By doing this, he survived for four years, killing over a dozen of his slavemates in the process by slowly starving them to death. (draw parallel to parasite/lice?) He hated himself for doing it, but he was a starving young kid with a will to live.

After four years, a rescue team finally reached their ship. His sister led the charge. In the four years he had been missing, she had joined the rescue teams (name tbd) and risen to the highest position. She dedicated her whole life to finding her younger brother. She would only go on missions if it was suspected that her brother was onboard. Finally, she had found him. Later, he is brought to a hospital, where he spends the next few months recovering.

Although the story will likely end there, the young boy’s story does not! He struggles with the blood on his hands, and despite assurances from both his therapist and his sister (who is now his guardian) he knows that he was responsible for their deaths. Although there are times that he thinks that he cannot possibly live with the guilt, he still has the same ferocious will to keep on living, despite everything that has hurt him.

So, that’s about it! Tomorrow, I’ll be posting the design I have in mind for the boy, along with revealing more about his personality and appearance.

Thanks for reading!

- L.E. Silva

[keferon]

I stand by the belief that Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rod would be friends in any universe. Much to the terror of everyone else.

———————————————————————

Deadlock was loosing his mind.

Deadlocks face plates were starting to hurt from the strain of manually stopping himself from reflexively smiling. And why did he have an overwhelming compulsion to smile?

Because: This. Tiny. Minuscule. Absolute Fragging SPECK of a human was somehow radiating more emotion out of his EM field than any other mech that Deadlock has ever met in his life.

And what was that emotion?

"THIS IS THE COOLEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN IN MY FUCKING LIFE!"

Joy. Pure. Unfiltered. Unrestrained. And completely unreasonable levels of joy.

"RATCHET. RATCHET. HE'S SO COOL."

The mini nuclear reactor was currently shaking the medic by the shoulders, practically vibrating with unspent energy. Seconds ago, Hot Rod had seemingly slagging materialized next to him in an explosion of emotion that damn near knocked Deadlock on his aft. He was currently tempted to swat the little fragger halfway across the hangar to escape the onslaught of unexpected emotions except-

Ratchet had personally brought him in. Even now, the medics field remained calm and collected in the face of what to Deadlock felt like a fragging Sun. He kinda envied humans field numbness right now because it was definitely starting to screw with his processor.

Case in point, Deadlock had to take a click to refocus on what the squishes were talking about.

"No fucking way. Really?!"

“Yes, he really did take down those three quints near the wind farm by himself. Ate one of 'em too.”

"YOU EAT THEM?!?"

Deadlock was expecting disgust, but instead all he could feel was overwhelming awe. His resolve to remain aloof and detached was quickly beginning to crumble before the blast furnace of Hot Rods personality.

A manual override finally failed and Deadlock broke into a wide grin. At least he kept his fangs on prominent display. Equal parts smile and threat.

"Drink, actually."

Deadlock made a conscious effort to take on a more relaxed posture, one that would convey predatory pride and confidence.

"Dude. Dude. Dude."

Hot Rod held his hands to his face, leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

"YOU'RE A FREAKING ROBOT VAMPIRE FROM OUTER SPACE?!"

Before Deadlock could ask what a vampire was, Hot Rod had begun jogging away while screaming incoherently.

"What. What is happening?" Deadlock leaned towards his human, listening to Hot Rod get fainter as he rounded the corner of the hangar.

"About what I expected.” Ratchet grumbled, setting his hands on his hips.

“Roddy is intense as they come but he’s a damn good pilot and an even better friend."

Ratchet pointed a finger at Deadlock.

"Don't tell him I said that."

Hot Rod had become almost inaudible by now but was slowly gaining volume again.

"Right now kid, it's just been you and I. And trust me I enjoy the arrangement. But we can't fight every battle by ourselves. Sometimes you just need help. Sometimes,"

The screaming was quickly gaining decibels.

“You just need a friend.”

A friend.

Huh.

The scarred, defensive, self preserving part of Deadlock protested the thought of being pried open any further. Ratchet had started the process. But, c'mon. It's Ratchet. He scolded his inner self. Ratchet always left things stronger then before. So, maybe. Just a little bit. Deadlock could at least see what was so great about this squishy human.

The screaming returned to its initial volume as Hot Rod rounded the corner and mech. They were pretty sure humans normally breathed more often than that?

Hot Rod came to a stop before the two of them.

Finally gasping in fresh air. His field was absolutely roiling, pretty much all positive emotions but the screaming lap around the building had clearly vented a lot of energy.

"Can you turn into a bat?!"

Deadlock reset his optics, an idea spreading across his processor as he finally let his Em field reciprocate with giddiness and mischief.

Who cares if it's sparkling behavior? It’s fun. He told the Deadlock part of himself.

"Nope. But do you want to know what I can turn into?"

Hot Rod nodded so fast Ratchet looked concerned.

Che-che-chu-klunk.

Hot Rod started screaming again.

This time when when his EM field hit Deadlock he took it all in and reflected it right back. He revved his engine so loudly it shook the windows. Hot Rod was running and jumping in a tight circle around the two of them, radiating Joy Joy Joy Joy. Deadlock swore his field was even effecting Ratchet at this point from the way happy seemed to bounce between the three of them in various shades.

"Can we go for a ride?!"

Hot Rod had stopped by Deadlocks passenger side door. Rapidly looking between Ratchet and Deadlock, clearly uncertain who's permission to ask for.

"Well Doc, do you trust us not to get into trouble?" He wriggled his tires.

"You two? Staying out of trouble? Hell no."

Ratchet rubbed his chin the way he always did when he was trying to stop himself from smiling.

"But as long as you both come back in one piece and before dark... Well I don't see the harm."

Hot Rod gave his loudest "WOOP!" Yet. A feat in it of itself. A scrambled into Deadlocks cabin, forgoing the door entirely to throw himself bodily through the window.

They tore away from Ratchets hangar with a chorus of thanks and a spray of gravel.

———————

It was well after dark by the time the duo rolled into Ratchets hangar. Hot Rod stumbled out into a semi controlled summersault that left him spread eagle on the floor, laughing and panting. While Deadlock smoothly transformed and promptly rolled flat on his back in a similar state of delirium.

They had so much fun. He had so much fun.

When was the last time he'd ever felt like that?

When had he ever felt like that?

Ratchet was upside down frowning at him. No, wait. Smiling.

Happy. Fondness. Proud.

Love.

Deadlock cleared his vents and put a hand over his spark before his chest plates could do something very stupid.

Ratchet turned to the hot mess on the floor.

"I got the couch set up for you. Figured you're gonna stay the night."

Hot Rod stuck his arms straight up, palms open.

"Woo, sleepover!"

His field had finally simmered down to something like coals. A bone deep exhaustion that made Deadlock feel heavy by proxy.

They both gracelessly shuffled onto their respective resting arrangements, Ratchet taking the recliner after dimming all the lights.

Soon enough, all three were in recharge or asleep.

———————

Deadlock started out of recharge with tightly trained silence.

Something was wrong.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Deadlock seemed dead to the world still. But internally, his systems quickly synced to kill. A skill he had honed over many millennia of unsafe homes and attempted assassinations.

What surprised him was how he already mentally mapped out how to maneuver the humans into the safest location in a fight. Deadlock finally onlined his optics, casting the hangar in an amber glow. His processor clicked and Deadlock realized what was triggering his fight response.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Hot Rod.

Limbs twisted in fabric, face buried in the crook of the couch. Posture contorted. Breathing uneven. Field pulled in so tight it felt suffocating.

Deadlock loosely knew what a nightmare was.

Ratchet got them sometimes, though he wouldn't admit it until Deadlock made it clear the lack of context was freaking him out a little.

The way Ratchet explained it was that it was essentially a way for the brain to process excess information. Basically the same as defrag but with some weird human side effects because of course there were weird human side effects.

Like whatever was currently happening to Hot Rod.

From previous experience, nudging Ratchet awake usually resulted in a snort or other cut of vocalization. But if there was anything Deadlock had learned it was that Hot Rod did not do anything quietly.

Ratchet was still sleeping on his recliner, but there was a subtle shifting and a pinch to his face. Not a nightmare, Deadlock had learned the pattern, but something was bothering the medic and it threatened to wake him from his much needed rest.

Help.

The wave of desperate emotion spilled out like an overfilled cup.

Right, Hod Rods EM field was freakishly strong. It was restrained for now but Deadlock dreaded what it’d feel like if the dam broke.

He watched Ratchet stir again and. . . Wait.

Could humans pick up on EM fields?

Can’t a deaf mech still feel the vibrations of a song? Couldn’t a blind one still feel the warmth of the sun?

What if?

Deadlock moved as silently as death. Cupping a servo over the pilot. He stopped restricting his field and focused.

Calm.

Hot Rod made another almost vocalization. Like he was trying to yell without enough air.

Calm. Deadlock tried again. Comforting anyone was so, so far from his normal area of expertise. Did he even know what calm was supposed to feel like? What safe was supposed to be? He wracked his memories as Deadlock and abandoned that immediately.

Calm. Safe. Ratchet.

Okay. Deadlock didn’t know how to comfort someone, but Ratchet did. He focused his field again, this time on trying to mimic what he always felt from Ratchet as closely as possible.

Care. Fondness.

Deadlock vented slowly. It felt hollow coming from him. The new field was there but it was weak. Unsupported. Deadlock worried his lip with a fang. Hot Rod simmered.

He vented slowly. Deadlock opened the box at the back of his mind named Drift. He knew what he needed. Everything else could stay but he needed this one feeling. Just one.

The stars were out over Dead End. A brown out had swept the area, leaving everything in the dark. Drift didn’t know the sky could look like that.

The others were gathered around in silent awe. Nobody dared to break the spell. Tomorrow, everything would suck again. Scraping money for the next meal, the next hit, the next chance to live just a little longer.

But for a few fleeting moments, Drift was okay. They were all okay. Because the circles of light around Cybertron said so.

Peace.

Drift let the feeling fill his field. Calm and fondness meant something again.

He thought of his time with Ratchet and Hot Rod. Finding something new in himself.

Protect.

It was like smoke clearing all at once. Hot Rod exhaled deeply in his sleep, field going soft and gentle.

He kept it up, at some point his engine had started purring without him knowing. A pleasant white noise within the hangar. They were okay. Everyone he cared about was okay. He felt peace. Just for now. Just for them.

“Didn’t know you could do that.”

Ratchets voice was thick with sleep. One eye barely cracked to look at him.

“Me too.”

—————————

Part 1

This is long and it’s getting late. Deadlock has an emotional breakthrough and Hot Rod dreams about I dunno, pancakes or something.

-SSTP

Infinitely entertained by the mental image of Ratchet trying to pick someone who he can trust but who will also get along with Kid. And then looking at Hot Rod and being like Yep. That one.

ALSO. Hot Rod having an EM field equivalent of a nuclear fucking reactor is just so👌👌👌 YES HE WOULD. ABSOLUTELY YES HAHAHKFNGM

I never get tired of reading about Roddy and Lock losing their last brain cells when they are together. Anon. Anon look at me. I LOVE YOU ANON. I WILL CHERISH THIS PIECE FOREVER IT BROUGHT ME THE UNMEASURABLE AMOUNT OF JOY THANK YOU FOR SHARING IT

[keferon]

Inspired by the ask about Ratchets “How to hold a human class”

———————————————————————

“Kid! C’mere!”

Deadlock twitched a finial in Ratchets direction. He wasn’t quite ready to stop sulking contemplating by his spot next to the pond but Deadlock also didn’t want Ratchet to yell at him again.

Actually yell at him.

Deadlock hadn’t meant to piss the medic off, he was actually trying to help in the moment. Ratchet said he needed to get something on the catwalk so Deadlock did the natural thing and grabbed Ratchets arm to put him up there. He’d barely lifted him off the ground when Deadlock felt the shock of pain shoot through Ratchets field a split second before he shouted in pain. He immediately let go which resulted in Ratchet landing hard on his hip.

After which Ratchet flew into one of the most genuinely angry rages he’d ever seen. He’d called Deadlock every variation of “reckless” and “irresponsible” imaginable. Any thought of justifying himself withered under not so much Ratchets scolding, as the faint feeling of pain and concern that bled through the rage like a new layer of paint slapped on before the first layer could dry.

Deadlock retreated into himself and fled the hangar. Flipping endlessly between “I didn’t mean to!” and “That doesn’t matter slaghead!” Through his mind and the night.

It was morning, and Deadlock was determined not to be a coward at the very least. Whatever punishment Ratchet had decided on Deadlock would respect. Even if it was something as spark crushing as “leave and don’t come back.”

Deadlock followed Ratchet, who was favoring his right hip, back to the hangar. Deadlock kneeled and waited for his sentence.

“Okay. We’re gonna go over some ground rules and basic human anatomy so what happened yesterday doesn’t happen again.”

Deadlock’s finials popped straight up. His mouth open to say something but nothing came to fruition.

Ratchet waved his hand through the air, “You didn’t know and you didn’t mean it. We both know it was an accident but if you really want to make it up to me then pay attention.”

Deadlock closed his mouth and nodded quickly.

“Good. Now gimme your hand.”

Deadlock complied, keeping his hand lax as Ratchet manipulated it to wrap it around his arm the same way from yesterday.

“Okay, don’t do anything yet but explain to me why you grabbed me this way.”

Deadlock cycled his optics for a second while he thought.

“Cause your arm is a convenient handle?”

Ratchet breathed out his nose slowly.

“And do normally pick up other mechs that way?”

“Yes?” Sort of. Deadlock didn’t really interact with minicons. Or maybe they just avoided him.

“This makes more sense then.” Ratchet said, swinging his arm and Deadlocks hand slightly.

“Metal can take that kind of torque without easily bending or tearing . Humans are not made of freakin metal kid. We’re a lot of soft tissue wrapped around a hard skeleton. The skeleton is basically a bunch of individual struts held together by soft connective tissue. That tissue is normally pretty strong when it’s pulled the normal way.”

Ratchet leaned slightly in Deadlocks grip, “This. Concentrates all of that weight into a single joint. Now technically, my shoulder can hold my entire weight but not at such a sharp angle to my body.”

Ratchet removed his arm and began to reposition Deadlocks hand to lay flat and palm up.

Ratchet pointed at Deadlock with an accusatory finger. “Rule Number One: Always fucking ask for permission first!”

Ratchet turned and sat on his hand, scooting backwards until his back rested against Drifts thumb. “If you do need to lift a human, best option by far is just holding your hand steady and letting them climb on.”

Deadlock shifted his hand to more comfortably hold the medic. Ratchet was both squishier than he was expecting and more solid. The sensation kind of reminded him of a big warm gel packet. “I think I’m getting the picture. So what should I do if I don’t have time to ask or you can’t answer?”

Ratchet sighed and Deadlock could actually feel him deflate. His face twitched in barely restrained amusement. Ratchets face twitched in the exact opposite of amusement.

“Pick up humans around the center of mass as much as you can. Try not to pick them up by the limbs. Do not ever pick one up by the head or neck.”

Ratchet shuffled in his grip, and maneuvered Deadlocks fingers to wrap around his torso while keeping his arms free. “Now, very slowly. I want you to gently tighten your grip. Stop the second I tell you to. Got it kid?”

Deadlock’s processor glitched for a second. Logically, he understood what Ratchet was teaching him. How and why. But. He’d just hurt him. And not only had Ratchet put himself back into Deadlocks grip of his own volition. Ratchet was specifically putting himself in an even more vulnerable state then almost loosing a limb. Deadlock didn’t even feel a hint of fear in his field. All he could feel was Trust and Patience and Care, as if Deadlock was the one putting his literal life in someone else’s hands.

“Got it Ratch.” His vocalizer came out staticky.

Deadlock closed his grip at a glacial pace, there was much more give than he was expecting so it caught him off guard when Ratchet finally said “Stop.” Deadlock froze.

“This is about how far you can go before it gets uncomfortable.” Deadlock’s processor skipped again, because holy Primus that was almost no effort whatsoever. Good to know how close he came to maiming him yesterday.

“Start again.”

What?

“What?”

“There’s a lot of give between comfortable and painful. I want you to have a frame of reference for both. I’m going to stop you before anything gets damaged kid, trust me.”

Slowly, Deadlock increased his grip again. It took about another minute before Ratchet stopped him again.

He breathed out in a controlled wheeze, Deadlock could feel Ratchets pulse against his palm, only marginally faster then when they started. “And that’s the upper limit. Don’t do this shit unless you need to.”

Deadlock relaxed his grip and Ratchet slipped off his hand.

The medic took a minute to breath and roll his shoulders.

Then, Ratchet laid down on the ground.

“Okay. Final exam. I’m going to pretend to be unconscious and you’re going to pick me up.”

Deadlock actually did start laughing at that point. Starting as silent shaking and then slowly building into not-quite villainous cackling. There was just something so absurd about the situation that all the tension from the preceding day unraveled until Deadlock was also lying on the ground. Vents whining and vocalizer mostly static by the time he started to calm down again.

Ratchet had sat up and was calmly watching him. The only physical tell Deadlock could see was a faint twitch of Ratchets mouth resisting the urge to smile. But Ratchets field radiated Fondness.

“You supposed to make that noise?”

Deadlock reset his vocalizer, “Yeah, it’s just been a long time. Are you ready?” He said rising up on his elbows.

Ratchet flopped down again.

“You’ve got ten minutes and you aren’t allowed to drop me.”

Deadlock grinned like a menace, and wondered if he could talk Ratchet into any extra credit classes.

AHW THIS IS SO LYLHKGKGNH DEADLOCK COMPARING HUMAN BODY TO A GEL PACKET HE LP

[keferon]

I need to see this. I'm doing it.

After reading this post. https://www.tumblr.com/spector-author/769138472871182336/keferon-first-things-first-this-is-so-sweet-of?source=share

(i don't know how to add a link from mobile)

I just want to see them interact.

-------

"FELIX!! YOU DID WHAT!?"

Ratchet voice boomed from hangar. Felix shrinks, squeezing his eyes shut until the ringing in his ears stopped.

"I was afraid so I take the sleeping bag to Vortex and..."

"Do you understand how dangerous that was!!! You could have died!!"

"I...I know but..." Vortex wouldn't hurt him. He swallowed the rest of the sentence under Ratchet's intense glare

a loud metal foot step was head and Vortex moved over head. He could barely fit, so the mech has to kneel down. Cameras locking on to the old man, gigantic hand lifting up like it wants to grab him.

Deadlock move instantly. Although smaller than Vortex by almost half, he tries his best to put himself between Ratchet and the bigger mech, blades at the ready.

"Stop right there, big guy" he said, pointing the blade a Vortex.

"Vortex! No!!" First Aid cries, the mech didn't move further, but didn't back down.

"What..? It can actually move without a pilot?" Ratchet stares up at the mech in disbelief. He knew of the rumors, but most rumors were still of things that could happened. Freak accidents and malfunctions. This is the mech actually moving without anyone inside the cockpit.

"Yes. He can...He has been for the most part" Felix answers weakly. Still looking up silently pleading for Vortex to back down.

"He?"

"Vortex....He's...there"

"I don't want to talk like I believe in ghost. But, Ratchet, he's there"

As if to emphasize the point, Vortex moved again, reaching his hand over again threatening to grab at Ratchet. Deadlock raises his blade.

"ENOUGH! Both of you! Stop before I make spare parts out of you!"

There was a pause. Felix can feel Vortex's camera moved from the other mech to Ratchet who out his hand on his hips glaring at both mechs.

Finally Vortex moves. He made a rude gesture at Deadlock then withdraw. Deadlock lower his blade.

Felix realizes he was holding his breath the whole time.

---

I imagine Vortex used to getting yelled at a lot by Ratchet and the others for being really reckless with his piloting. Sometime he comes back with the mech in a mess. A few times he broke his own arms or legs because he was too violent wrestling with the kaijus.

OH YOU. YOU JUST MADE ME REALIZE AHAHA

You made me realize what kind of circus will form if all the guys and gays get to team up. Because usually we have a bunch of characters who are at least somewhat compatible. But these guys??

Literally ahaha. We have a Decepticon who's used to ignore everyone who doesn't outrank him (also a professional backstabber may I add)

Then we have class Keter SCP fucking metal giant sadist/masochist/freak who is also allergic to any kind of authority.

Then we have poor little Swerve who just wants to save his crush.

And then Prowl who is an Autobot and basically should be in charge here but literally WHO is gonna listen to him??

Those aren't Avengers, those are the Suicide squad but it's called suicide because they're literally gonna dismember each other after five minutes in one room.

First aid, Ratchet, Jazz and Blurr: It's so nice to hang out with you guys. So chill and great.

Their gay machinery:

[keferon]

Something for Ratchet getting to know Deadlock/Drift

———————————————————

Ratchet doesn’t know when exactly the giant alien mech that’s fallen into his life became “Kid”. But he knows why.

There’s something to the way the other throws himself at life with a reckless abandon that screams of youth, even as Ratchet is fairly sure by the weathering of the kid’s metal plate that this mech is way older than he is already.

What frustrates Ratchet though is that the kid’s not even subtle in his recklessness. Ratchet’d barely finished welding his injuries before he started poking at the welds curiously. Just a couple days ago, Ratchet had caught him with a can full of neon pink paint halfway to his mouth. And then there’s the way that he still calls Ratchet “Rat”, even as Ratchet scowls at him. Because he knows the kid knows his full name by now and he can tell the kid enjoys getting on his nerves.

There’s the way the mech moves around his workshop. Clumsy. As though still learning to move around for the first time. Ratchet’s lost count of the number of times the mech has smashed lamps, knocked over tables, or nearly damaged delicate medical equipment that Ratchet’s quickly snatched out of his path (because he needs those, and they aren’t nearly as easy to replace as tables or lamps).

And then the day comes when they’re walking out late at night in an abandoned part of town. No one around to see anything suspicious. No one around to help when the alien falls out of the sky in front of them, a mass of writhing tentacles and glowing red eyes.

And Ratchet watches as the kid moves. A blur of motion so fluid and quick that it goes beyond practice. There’s a gun in one of the mech’s hands and a sword in the other. (And where had the kid even been keeping those?)

A slice of the sword sends a tentacle flying over Ratchet’s head. And a short blaze of gunfire later and the alien is nothing more than a corpse oozing green goo onto the sidewalk.

Ratchet is left clutching his wrench and staring up at the kid with something bordering between shock and awe. Reminded that the kid is also a warrior. A warrior ages older and more experienced than Ratchet himself. Deadly, when he wants to be.

Though he’s never shown any desire to hurt Ratchet. In fact, if the way the kid’s looking down at Ratchet as he stows the sword and gun back wherever they came from, the kid feels protective of him. And Ratchet realizes in that moment that he feels the same.

The kid can protect him from the aliens. He vows to protect the kid from what he likely doesn’t know (hopefully will never know). That humans have a darker side, can be just as deadly and dangerous as any of the aliens they’re fighting. And that there are those who will always seek to understand what is new and unexplained by any means necessary.

ANON I LOVE YOU THIS IS WONDERFUL KGJNGNGJFKFMFNCNC

I just. Ahahahahah OH I LOVE to think how much of a disaster Deadlock would be for Ratchet’s workshop hahaha. Everything is on its place? Nope now its not. The whole table got sent to the opposite corner just because your new big ass roommate tripped over it khkhk

ALSO. ehehehe. HEAR ME OUT.

I was thinking a lot about what would Deadlock eat while he’s on Earth. Since in this au Cybertronians doesn’t know Earth even exists so they didn’t get the chance to hide some snacks on it in advance.

So I got this creepy fucking idea. What if he eats the Quintessons?

Remember how some Quintessons are described as organic and some as robotic? And remember how in Transformers Quintessons are always trying to steal some kind of energy from Cybertron? Sometimes it’s energon, sometimes it’s spark energy, you got the idea. I’m trying to say that Quintessons are clearly compatible to Cybertronian energy sources~

So. Wouldn’t it be wonderfully fucked up if Deadlock had to hunt Quintesson robot monsters, kill them, and then drink their fuel out of their lines? Wouldn’t it be crazy gory and fun to think about hmm

Because yeah no the Earth doesn’t have any energon in it and Deadlock is crash landing there so he doesn’t have enough energon just laying around in his pockets.

[keferon]

That GIF makes me go bonkersss

I had to write something for ratchet and drift cuz yesss hehee

_____

Deadlock's vents hitched. Hot, it was hot. His engine felt like fire roaring through his unmoving body.

His optics came online, just as a spatter of pain ran through his joints and he jumped up from his seated position, jumping hard enough to bang his helm right against a solid ceiling.

He heard the rumble of something when he hit his head, sitting back lower as he groaned and rubbed the spot he'd probably dented in his rough awakening.

Then he paused. The ship- the- he'd been attacked. He was escaping. Something struck the ship and something struck him and then-

Something was bugging his ear.

He heard a static, a sound like something yelling. Something small.

Deadlock lowered his head to look around. He was in a large space. Not large enough for him to stand, apparently not large enough for him to completely straighten himself either. His legs were bent uncomfortably to fit the room.

He then focused on the source of the voice, looking down at a tiny creature, swinging its fist at him and shouting incoherent- curses, he assumed.

-

Ratchet hadn't thought this thing to still be alive. Or- moving- whatever it was doing.

He'd brought it back to his garage to repair what he could. He was a full time medic, but fixing cars was like a hobby to him and to his suprise, this....creature, wasn't much different from a car. Atleast externally. He'd found some parts and liquids that he sure as hell didn't recognize.

It wasn't a mecha, thats for certain. Ratchet had caught a short glance at the creature's face when he'd found it and it didn't look like any mecha he had ever seen before. Unless this was some twisted new invention...he couldn't imagine. He chose to keep this to himself for now.

It didn't have a cockpit either, evidence further pointing to the fact it wasn't being controlled, atleast not from the inside.

He'd been trying to reassemble some of the wiring inside the giant's leg when the bloody thing had suddenly jolted and cracked his ceiling. Almost crushed him too when it had moved it's palm to balance inside the small space.

"Can you hear me, huh?! Watch yourself 'fore I leave you more broken than you were before!"

He glared at the thing's wide red eyes.

It blinked, furrowed it's brow and then blinked again, staring at Ratchet intensely like it was trying to put together a puzzle in it's head.

Ratchet paused, huffing.

"You don't understand me, do you."

He wondered briefly if it was from a different country, but the image of a crash site reminded him whatever it was came from up there.

Then the machine moved again, placing another palm, wearily, down to the ground and leaning over, settling it's giant face terrifyingly close to Ratchet.

It stared, squinting it's red, glowing eyes at Ratchet like he was some sort of bug.

"Where are you from, hm? Some weird new mecha invention?" Ratchet asked like he wasn't phased. The thump of his heart beating faster was only audible to his own ears. The creature looked angry now, angrily confused.

It opened it's mouth and out came a lot of loud, irritating static.

Ratchet flinched and slapped his palms over his ears. It rang and buzzed in his head like a freaky radio he couldn't understand.

"Ag- SHADDUP!"

That suprisingly seemed to be a command the machine understood perfectly well, as it shut it's trap the moment Ratchet ordered it to. Maybe it was just his tone of voice.

The two glared into each others eyes, frustrated over the confusion in communication.

Ratchet huffed and placed a palm on his chest. "My name is Ratchet. R-A-T-C-H-E-T. Y'got that?" He spoke, watching the thing's eyes follow his face and hands intently.

The machine opened it's mouth again and Ratchet prepared to cover his ears.

"R-A-" it sounded out instead. Not exactly english, but not so static-y that Ratchet couldn't understand. It was trying, atleast. The noises it made sounded like a radio going through channels at a rapid pace.

"R-at- Ratch- R-a-t-"

The creature looked like it thought of something and then it slowly brought it's head down to the other again, a wide grin on it's faceplates.

"Rat."

I AM. SO SANE AND NORMAL ABOUT THEM. I'M SO. . KHKYKYOHKYKYM

Also. Eheheh I like to think that. The moment that made Ratchet realise "oh shit it's not a machine it's a person" was when Ratchet saw that Deadlock can feel pain. He saw that this giant angry robot is in pain and it clicked in his brain. Oh this isn't a piece of weird technology. Technology can't suffer. And this one clearly can.

Like. I think in Ratchets mind everything that can feel pain deserves help to relieve that pain. It doesn't matter if it's an animal or human or apparently giant space robot:)

And your writing made realize I'm so glad that when someone back then asked about Ratchet I went with Ratchlock instead of Dratchet. Ratchlock in this specific setting is so much more fun. Drift is all cool and collected and careful and respectful and everything. Deadlock is a menace. Deadlock is feral backstabbing angry bastard /aff. It's so much funnier that way>:D

[keferon]

Loosely inspired by the discussion around the mecha organization finding pieces of quintessons deadlock's killed.

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

Ratchet shoulders his way through the crowd around the cafeteria table, trying to make his way to the coffee dispenser.  He scowls and waves his wrench idly at a few of the assembly without feeling even the slightest curiosity about what might have drawn them all there.  He just wants to get his damn coffee and get on with the morning already.

"…they found it on 5th avenue last week…"

The words drift out to Ratchet as he nears the center of the huddle.  He freezes.  Fifth avenue, around where…

"Patrol thinks it's the internal circuitry of one of their eyes."

Ratchet looks up, interested now.  At the center of this cluster of idiots is a group of fresh-faced recruits, clearly just back from patrol. The leader is narrating to the crowd while his fellows nod along enthusiastically to his story.

"Then two days ago, they think they found a tooth."  One of the recruits hefts something up onto the table.  Ratchet cranes his neck to get a good look over the crowd and sees what is indeed an alien tooth sitting next to a gleaming pile of circuitry.

"And just now…" the leaders voice drops to a stage whisper.  Ratchet finds himself leaning forwards involuntarily, drawn in along with the rest of the crowd now.

"…look at this!"  One of the recruits throws a slimy chunk of tentacle as long as a human arm onto the table.  "Still fresh.  Something out there's killing them!"

The crowd erupts.

"What do you think it is?"  "Is it one of our?" "Are we in danger?"  "What could kill something like that?"   "Are we next?"  "Oh god, there are more of them!?"  "Are they fighting each other?"  "There are more dangerous ones?"  "What do we do?  What do we do?"

The leader just sits patiently until the noise dies down, a conspiratorial smirk plastered on his face.  A smirk Ratchet is getting more and more tempted to wipe out.

They're just new recruits spreading wild rumors.  But…wild rumors with a hint of proof to back them up. And…Ratchet can't help but picture the kid hidden back in his garage.

"…not one of ours," the leader is saying.  "Which means…"

Ratchet should put a stop to this.  He isn't sure quite what's holding him back, leaving him hooked on every word waiting to hear how this story ends.

"…which means there's something else out there killing them."

And then he sees it in the leader's eyes.  A gleam of something far beyond the self-satisfaction of one commanding their own audience. 

It's in all the patrols' eyes Ratchet realizes.  That faint light that's been missing from so many. 

Something he sees in the eyes of too few of the mech pilots as they rush to the hangars when the alarms ring these days. 

Something that's been missing from the deadened gazes of his medics as they keep working to patch up bodies that they know will just end up back on their tables sooner or later. 

Something that even the mechanics and scientists and engineers have long had worn away from their gazes by never-ending shifts of repairs and improvements that some are starting to whisper really aren't getting them anywhere, so what's the point?

Hope.

"You know what that means?  It means we're not alone in this," the patrol leader says, his smirk breaking into a full grin for the first time.

Ratchet should put a stop to this.  Call it nonsense – idle rumors and biological evidence clearly fabricated for attention.  They would believe him, he knows.  He has the authority that if he says those 'alien' body parts are fakes, no one will question it.

He can't bring himself to do it.  He and the kid can take care of themselves if it comes to it.

These idiots…these idiots need the hope if they're going to keep surviving.

And that's the thing about hope, Ratchet thinks as the crowd begins to break up.  It's infectious.  He can feel it spreading outwards.  See it in the way shoulders seem to lift and more conversation bubbles across the cafeteria than there's been in weeks.

And if that hope is that there might be aliens falling from the sky that would step in to help save the day….

A few months ago, Ratchet would have dismissed the notion as the idle fantasy of the desperate.

Now.  Now he knows it's more likely than anyone else in this room might think.  Now he's glad to have been proven wrong.  Glad to have the kid in his life to prove him wrong. 

Ratchet can't quite hide the grin that's spreading across his own face as he finally makes his way to the coffee maker.

OH MY GOD YESSS. TASTY RUMOURS I LOVE READING ABOUT RUMOURS EHEHNFMBMB