#please wait like a month or three before asking another one like this Servo

[changeling-rin]

The Links get saddled with powers that do NOT suit them. What do they get and how do they adjust? (Servo, with the power to ramble!)

Gen can now create explosions, much to his own distaste. He copes by sparking threateningly at anyone who thinks they can avoid their medical examinations

Speck is now a giant. This is a problem. He's currently dealing with it by being shrunk at all times, which cancels out his giantism just enough to the point where he's normal sized

The Four can now duplicate themselves...! Also they now have a feedback migraine. Problem is that even when they only make one copy, that's still four new copies, so... yeah, they just don't use it all that much.

Ocarina and Mask can now revert and/or reset things back to their original states... which is a problem, actually, because now Ocarina is actually nine, Mask is some weird nebulous between-fourteen-and-sixteen age, any time loop they try to create automatically undoes itself, and the last time they tried to use a mask they accidentally set the inhabitant loose. Also they can't figure out how to not do any of that on first contact, so... yeah this is a mess

Dusk now has the human version of the Pokemon Ability 'Intimidate'. Which is fine, for his enemies, but... he really wants to hug Colin and pet a cat and have a normal conversation without scaring everyone that sees him to death-

RGBV now generate an electric current when they stand near, touch, or interact with each other in any way - problem is that generating and controlling are two completely separate things and they're liable to shock each other, themselves, and anything or anyone within a ten-foot radius. They just want to be together, why is this a thing?

Lore is now the source of a calm field, in which everyone reacts logically and reasonably to whatever happens. He can't turn it off. This is his worst nightmare

Realm has a pocket wormhole, which sounds convenient, except that he can't find anything. The pocket wormhole has no boundaries. It's endless. It's void. It contains everything and nothing but Realm would really like it to contain his sword please and thank you-

Sketch has a raincloud following him everywhere. Please make it stop. He really wants to be able to put down this umbrella and also stop feeling constant mortal terror

Wind makes ice now, which would be really useful actually, if it didn't instantly and automatically form over any liquid he touches. Or any liquid that he's adjacently touching. Such as the ocean touching the boat that's touching his feet. Please thaw. He just wants to go sailing-

Steam deconstructs things on touch now. Any touch. Thankfully it only works on inanimate things, but now the Spirit Train is a pile of parts and rubble. He might cry

Shadow can now produce sunlight, which is horrendously painful and also inconvenient, at best, because he can't hide if he can't catch any of the shade patches which are now being cast away from him-

Oni is now an empath. Not that he doesn't understand the emotions or anything like that, he just. He has no idea what he's supposed to do about it. This is incredibly uncomfortable on a very personal level

[catmetchu]

The Autobots meeting Ryuko matoi on her first day in honnouji academy

I made a mix between imagines and scenarios. Sorry for the long wait! It was my fault for not saving frequently, so I had to rewrite everything after Tumblr crashed on me. But I think the second version turned out better.

So here we go! Enjoy

A new Iacon Relic was found in Tokyo Bay and the bots were ready to retrieve it, hopefully not attracting any attention from the residents in Honnō City.

Ryuko Matoi arrives at the island too in hopes of finding answers about her father's murderer.

Arcee and Smokescreen were bridged the the remains of a burned down villa. The sensors revealed the relic to be underneath the building.

While wondering around the house to find a underground bunker Smokescreen found an unharmed photograph of a grumpy old man in a lab coat holding a three year old little girl, with a remarkable bright red strand of hair in her bangs.

"Arcee! The owner of this house was probably a scientist, maybe they found it and have the relic hidden?" "How do you know?" "Humans in these types of white clothing usually have a scientific background, that's what Raf told me."

After two hours they finally found themselves in close proximity to the relic, how ever is appears to be stuck behind a wall of the huge chamber they were in, which was full of piles of clothing.

"The terrain probably changed as this island was formed. We'd have to put a hole in here first." "Yeah sure! Ah, Arcee? I hear something." "I hear it too, sounds like someone is trying to break in from above. Take cover!"

They duck behind a large pile of old rugs and kneel down and watch as a humanoid figure fell from a hole in the cieling. In her right hand was a large crimson scissor blade, stained with the blood from the same arm. The teenage girl clutched the deep bleeding cut with her other hand. "Shit! The wound ripped open again." Blood gushed out and soaked the old cloth she sat on.

"That looks nasty! Should we-" "Shh!" Arcee held Smokescreen back before he did something stupid, but it was too late.

"Who is there?!" Ryuko turned around and wielded her weapon with the other hand. When she got no response she slowly approached the pile of clothes and thrusts her scissor blade through it hitting smokescreen right in the shoulder, he didn't make a sound but the clang between metal was proof Ryuko wasn't alone. "Show yourself and I won't hurt you too badly!"

"Alright you caught me!" Smokescreen quickly stepped forward but Arcee didn't. "Who are you and what is your business in my father's house!" Ryuko thrusts the blade at his chest. "Woah, easy I don't want a fight, I'm just ah, looking for something... Important." "I'm not gonna leave before you tell me!"

There was a rustling underneath the rug pile Ryuko had been sitting on. "More! GIVE ME MORE! GIVE ME MORE BLOOD!" A black shadow busted out of the clothes and threw itself at Ryuko. "PLEASE! Put me on! Put me on! PUT ME ON!" "What the fuck! A sailor uniform!? Sailor uniforms don't talk?!" "Don't be scared! JUST PUT ME ON!" "No! Stop it!"

Smokescreen was dumbfounded by the strange scene unfolding in front of him. According to Miko, school uniforms aren't supposed to be alive. Arcee wasn't sure how to react either, but one thing for sure, they have to get that thing off the human. They approached the wrestling two with blasters pointed at them.

"If you don't put me on right now, I'LL FORCE YOU TO PUT ME ON!" "Get your servos off the human girl!"

The suit stopped its struggling and turned it's head-ish part towards the Autobots. "I'M NOT ACTUALLY GOING TO HURT HER I JUST NEED SOME BLOOD!" It turned back to Ryuko and started forcing itself to become worn by her. "I haven't been had it in 6 months! I'll give you my powers in exchange! How does that sound huh?"

Arcee furrowed her brows and sprinted forward to pull at the uniform that has almost got itself around the girl. "You asked for this!" But nothing was budging, it was glued onto her like they were of the same body. "Get my blade and CUT IT OFF!" Smokescreen picket up the weapon she had lost but it was too late.

"SEE?! PERFECT FIT!" Before everyone knew, bright light emitted from the girl's body and the suit transformes into a strange outfit.

"Can humans do that?" "No, definitely not. And this... looks wrong in every possible way!"

After that, Senketsu had to explain himself before Arcee made another attempt to rip him off. Smokescreen just laughed hysterically at Ryuko trying to get Senketsu off her, stopping only when Arcee glared at him.

Originally, both bots wanted to inform the base of their endeavor with a human, but since Ryuko wasn't a US citizen there was little Fowler could have done anyway.

"So, your post transformation form has nothing to do with your perversion?" "NO! If I covered her whole body she would have died from blood loss!" *Wheeeeeze* "Imagine perverted paintjobs! I'm going to malfunction!" "Smokescreen! Is this what Optimus would have wanted you to behave like?"

Lastly, they all went on their merry ways after Ryuko helped the bots get the relic.

[crystalconjunx]

29. Not-So-Anonymous + Glory Hole

Swerve/???

"Hey, Swerve, have you seen that hole in the solvent racks?" A bot laughed as they pulled up a seat at the bar. "Maybe you should check it out sometime."

The red minibot nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning.

"That's none of your— A what hole? Where?" Swerve sputtered. 

"You know," the bot said casually. "One of those holes you stick your spike through to get sucked. Or go to suck spike, I guess." They emphasized the idea with a flicking wrist gesture. 

"I'll… have to pass." He frowned.

His processor, meanwhile, was in overdrive. Afragging glory hole in the crew showers. It was only a matter of time before Magnus found out, so no point in investigating it himself, right?

Someone might assume he was there to use it. Which he definitely wouldn't be. That would be weird. No, he could go without that type of rumor floating around his name, thanks. 

Aside from hearing that particularly spicy tidbit of gossip, it was a pretty normal shift at the bar. The hole slipped from his mind as soon as Tailgate and Rewind barged in to share the day's latest mischief with him. 

He didn't know how he ended being the most mature of the three minibots, but he didn't mind the attention. They actually liked talking to him. It was a nice change.

Everything was going great until Tailgate and Rewind accidentally launched their hoverboard into a rack of engex bottles and sent them cascading over Swerve. He waved away the other minibots' apologies- Cyclonus would probably come in later to cover his conjunx's damages, the indulgent bastard- and sloshed away to the solvent racks to clean himself off. 

He exvented a sigh of relief when he found the solvent racks empty and took his usual spot near the end of the room. It was the only one made with a raised floor so him and the other Minibots didn't have to jump up to reach the solvent controls. 

He was already under the spray of warm solvent when he looked to the side and saw a dark spot out of the corner of his visored optics. 

A wide hole was drilled into the side of the wall. 

There it was. The glory hole. It was just like the ones he'd seen in the handful of cheap Earth porns he'd watched out of curiosity. 

Unlike it's crude carved-out Earth comparisons, however, this one appeared to be perfectly cut. Someone had polished the metal smooth.

Of course, that's when the light in the adjacent stall clicked on. He immediately cut off the spray of solvent. Primus, what if someone was waiting to do something and he was holding them up? He couldn't hide in here now, could he?

That's when a message appeared on the slick metal wall above it— someone had rigged it to display light glyphs. That put the inputs in the other stall. Which meant someone was sending him a message from the other side of the hole. A few glyphs suddenly appeared on the wet wall in bright and friendly lettering.

Hey, Swerve. 

"Uh, hi?" He asked aloud.

Great. Did they seem him come in here? Did they think he wanted to use the thing himself? Did they watch him shower?

Wonderful. Now he was probably about to get made fun of.

"Listen, this isn't what you think." He argued. "This is the only minibot shower and I didn't know someone had drilled a hole into the wall, okay? I'm leaving now."

Don't. 

"Uhhhh… why? Do we know each other?"

Yes. 

"Alright. Can you tell me who you are? And why I should stay?" He asked.

No. 

"Okay, very informative, very helpful. Are you waiting for someone or something?"

You.

He let out a laugh in disbelief. "M-me? Are you sure about that? There's dozens of other mechs who I'm sure would be super on board with whatever- whatever this is, exactly, and I'm not really one of them. Why don't you find someone else?"

Don't want them. I want you. 

Another nervous laugh. "Right. Sure."

I'm serious.

It's ok if you don't want to, though. 

"Well… I would like to know why, at least. If you're serious, anyway. Why me?"

You're cute. You're kind. You're funny. 

I've wanted to interface you for months.

"Really? Why didn't you say anything?" 

I'm shy.

"Oh. I guess I can understand that. Did you… make this hole in the wall, then?"

No. But I wanted to try it with you.

Can I?

"I-I don't know. I've never had my spike sucked before. I don't know who you are or what you look like. Not that you're going to be ugly or anything! I just, I don't know..." He answered, fiddling with his servos while he waited for their response.

What if they got mad? What if they left? What if they spread nasty rumors about him?

You can suck mine. 

I think about your mouth all the time. 

What it might feel like around me. 

"I don't really know how this works, or who you are, or if this is even a good idea… what if someone walks in?"

I locked the door behind me. 

"Of course you did." He laughed breathlessly.

It's really okay if you don't want to. 

I'd like to get to know you better either way.

I really do like you, Swerve. 

"Well… I mean, Can I see it first? If that's okay? I've never seen anyone else's spike before. Well, not on purpose, anyway."

Sure. 

But you don't have to do anything you don't want to.

Okay?

"Okay. Thanks, I guess." He said. The glyphs did comfort him a bit. Maybe they wouldn't mind too much if he totally chickened out the moment he saw their spike? They seemed really nice. 

"So… wanna patch it through, then?" He winced at his own words. What was he supposed to say? It was in-character for him to be an idiot. 

Anything for you. 

Swerve pointedly refused to ignore how excited those particular glyphs made him. Instead, he focused on the fully pressurized spike that pressed through the hole. The mech had to be big. Much bigger than him, if the height difference between the stalls was any indication. Their spike was huge compared to his own. He couldn't recognize them from the coloration of the spike, but they certainly seemed familiar.

Primus, but he could already imagine how a spike like that would feel inside him. He wanted to know what it tasted like. He could already feel the oral lubricant warming in his mouth at the sight.

You can touch it if you want.

He gulped and raised his shaky servos, letting them hover over the spike as he tried to figure out what tk do. 

He'd self-serviced plenty of times, but he'd never touched another mech's spike before. What if he did it wrong? 

"I, uh, don't know where to start here," he said nervously. 

That's ok. Just wrap your servos around it.

Move your fist up and down like you'd do on your own.

Swerve tried, doing his best to imagine how he serviced his own spike. Tight at the base and gentle towards the tip. It was different like this, but not too hard. His frame was still slick with solvent and the slide up and down on the spike was an easy one. The mech slowly ground their spike into his hands.

Just like that. 

That's perfect, Swerve. 

"It is? My hands feel okay like this?"

It feels amazing.

Please don't stop. 

Spurred on by their happy glyphs, he sped up a bit and let his fingers dance across the smooth wet metal of the spike. He took his thumb and pressed upever-so-gently into the spot under the head of their spike that drove him crazy. 

The heavy spike twitched happily in his servos as a bead of transfluid dribbled down the tip. 

You're good with your hands. 

Want to try with your mouth?

Swerve nodded reflexively before he realized the other mech couldn't actually see him. 

That was good. They couldn't see how flushed he had become just from rubbing their spike for a couple of minutes, or how his own panels were practically leaking at the thought of that spike filling other parts of him instead. 

"Y-yeah," he answered. "Sorry if I'm not great at this, though. Like I said, I haven't touched a spike before, let alone suck one."

Relax. You'll do fine.

Just start small. Do what comes naturally. 

Swerve didn't share their faith in him, but he got down on his knees nonetheless. 

The spike was even more imposing from this close. He eyed a smear of pinkish transfluid as it dripped from the head while his servo gripped the spike by the base to steady. With a nervous lick to his derma, he opened his mouth and let his lips fall around the head of the spike to taste it.

It was… not what he expected. He'd tasted his own transfluids before, sure, but spike itself didn't taste like… anything really. All he could smell in the showers now was the sweet scent of engex that had gotten too deep into his frame for the solvent to reach. 

Keep going. You're doing great.

The glyphs encouragement had him moving his glossa while he let his hand take a tighter grip around the base. He felt a thick cable running along the underside and used his glossa to trace it up to his palm. 

The spike twitched in his hand. That was probably a good sign, right? 

He tried to make a pattern of it. He tried to recall anything from all those vids that might have been helpful. He felt around with his glossa and pressed against the sensitive clusters just underneath the delicate plating of his spike. He teased his fingers over the edge of the metal, making the mech practically throb into his mouth. 

All he could think about now was how good it would feel to have that spike inside him. He keened around the spike as he imagined it inside him- long and hard, almost too big as it pushed past his seals for the first time and filled him oh so good. He wanted to imagine the mech saying all those praises to him while they were face to face, comllimenting him while they practically split him in half.

Touch yourself. 

He whimpered at the commanding glyphs. He lifted his free servos and brought them down to his modesty panel. 

He hadn't even noticed it open. His spike was already hard and aching as he wrapped his fist around it. He kept his other hand on the base of the spike in his mouth as he tried to thrust into his own grip.

You're doing so good for me, Swerve. 

Just a little more. 

The red minbot moaned against the spike as he felt the first sparks of ticklish charge shoot down his glossa and straight to his spike, overloading into his hand with a loud whine. 

But he wasn't finished yet. He needed to make the mech feel good, too.

He pulled his mouth off the spike and let his hand move up to thumb at the sensitive node under the head while he pressed sloppy kisses down the side. He let the whole spike slide back into his mouth and kept going, as far as he could, until he felt it slip and catch just past the soft mesh of his intakes. He let his glossa trace that energon line again, right up to the edge of the opening where the spike stuck through and pressed against the node just barely out of reach. 

He heard a loud bang on the other side of the wall just before he felt warm, sticky transfluid spilling directly into his intakes. He pulled off with a cough and fell right onto his aft. 

That was… wow.

Are you alright?

"I-I'm fine," he coughed. "Was that okay?"

That was amazing. 

How about you? Enjoy yourself?

"Yeah! Can we do this again sometime? I mean, face-to-face and all. I wanna meet you! I could buy you a drink sometime?" He offered excitedly. "Or ee could always hang out? I have plenty of holovids. Lots of them are from Earth, but I have other stuff, too."

I'd love to. 

But not yet. 

Frag. Did he scare them off somehow? Damn it all, he always managed to mess things up. 

"Can you at least give me a hint?" Swerve asked desperately. He needed to know something about the mech he'd be fantasizing about for the rest of his foreseeable functioning.

You'll see soon enough.

Next time is your turn, after all.

[tfwhynoy]

YES!!! THOSE FICS ARE SO GOOD!!! PLEASE COULD YOU WORE ON FIRST CONTACT? LIKE WITH ANY CHARACTER???

Thought you said “whore on first contact” and was questioning my sanity 

For those who don’t know first contact au is where the war never happened so Cybertronians were never on Earth. Depending on how far in the “timeline” of this au you are you can go either from “cybertronians literally just discovered humans” to “humans and cybertronians are interacting and things are going well but neither know a huge amount about the other”. Either way, humans are considered at least somewhat cute by most to the point humans are doted on like puppies since they are so small and squishy. There are even some illegal pet trades on cybertronian once the au starts going.

Anyway, I’mma go with… Tfp Soundwave

Soundwave had been with only Lazerbeak for a long time with the trend of getting pet had him tempted. It was technically illegal to own as a pet but it certainly wasn’t hard to get around that. After all, you just have to claim them as a roommate and no one would question you for it.

He built the small room for a human slowly over time. He didn’t want to rush in and change his mind later. He bought several language packs so he wouldn’t be limited to getting only ones who spoke specific languages.

Soundwave looked at several places for adoption so he could find the most well cared for. The one he settled on was somewhat expensive and had the smallest selection but had advertized that all humans were here willingly so would bond easier and be taken care of easier. 

Soundwave had filled out a form a deca-cycle ago, what he wanted for in a human and how he usually acted. It was a way to match a couple of humans with their possible owner now. It was annoying but at least gave Soundwave time to prepare the final touches to their room.

When the day he finally arrived he was led to a room which served specifically for humans to be introduced. He had been matched with three humans whose attention were on him now that he had entered the room.

“Hello,” He spoke with his usual splice voice clips “My name is Soundwave.”

---------

You had been in the adoption center for about three months. It was nice but each room was impersonal. It made sense, especially since most adoptees weren’t here for longer than a month. The bots who ran the place said it was just because you weren’t what most buys wanted. They wanted a cuddly human who would be chatty and friendly but that they’ve seen bots who wanted quieter ones like you before and it was just a matter of patients.

Most humans agreed to come here so they could live on another planet for free or not have to worry about things like money again and just be cared for by someone else. As a result, they tended to be more open to their possible owners and the facilities caretakers. You decided to come instead just due to a lack of ties and you just kinda forgot to consider how terrifying giant robots were. Ya, you weren’t so scared of them as your first day but they sure as hell were still intimidating.

You were paired with another for the sixth time week. You had the sneaking suspicion they were just throwing you at anyone who’s wants vaguely matched you. You waited in the room on one of the couple padded benches. There were two others, a boy who looked he couldn’t be any older than nineteen and a kind-looking old woman. The boy was wringing his hand and attempting to make chatter, asking the woman what this meeting them would be like. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Every mech is different. I’ve been in more meetings than I can count and it’s nothing to be nervous about. Either they’ll love you are their attention will be on someone else.” You tuned out the nervous boys fretting and simply waited for the door to open, staring off into nothing in the meantime.

The door opening was startled you. When the Cybertronian spoke it was strange. Not one voice but several ones spliced together. With no face and next to no variation in paint color this bot seemed like he should constantly hiding in another's shadows instead of on his own. The only thing betraying this was the purple bio lights that ran along his body.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you soundwave. My name is Beatrice.” The boy shoved his hand in his lap and tried his best to smile. He ended up more like someone who failed tried telling a funny joke.

“This young man is Jaden. He’s just a little nervous.” She turned towards you with a soft smile. “You never said anything to us though. Why don’t you introduce yourself.” You let out a small sigh before telling Soundwave your own name. 

His only response was a quiet nod. His face, or lack thereof, felt too intense to look at for longer than a moment. His quietness certainly didn’t help. You just looked at his chest instead but you could still feel his gaze boring a hole in you.

“How are you today Soundwave?” Jaden’s voice was shaky and dripping with anxiety. 

Soundwave’s response “Of little interest” let you know this session would be rather boring. You began to tune it out mostly. Soundwave only responded when asked something and while the Beatrice tried to keep a decent conversation going it was in vain. 

You left the introduction figuring that the Beatrice would be adopted. An hour later and you’re proven wrong when you're told to pack your few belongings. Soundwave had chosen you and you would be leaving with him today. 

Soundwave carried you carefully across the city. You had to guess that his alt mode didn’t have any way to carry you comfortably if he was riding trains and walking where he needed with you. He lived far too considering how many time he switched routes and how long the trip was. The whole time he would keep taking glances at you. It should be expected but with no discernable expression and no speaking from him, everything felt unnerving.

You were thankful when he finally entered what you assumed to be his house. Soundwave went walked down a long corridor off the main room before stopping to finally say something.

“My room,” he pointed at a door that the hallway’s end before kneeling down to the floor. “Your room.” He pointed at a much smaller door. Even if you weren’t on the ground you could still tell it was rather large for a human but in comparison to the rest of his house reminded you of a mouse whole from a cartoon. “A key to booth doors and a comlink. If you need anything to message me.” He reached for something in his side before handing you what looked to be a large phone and what looked like a clicker used to train dogs. You guessed the clicker was the key, it had two buttons. The one on top having your initials on it while the one below had an S and W which you assumed stood for Soundwave.

“Would you like to stay with me or explore your room?” You thought for a moment. His servo was clearly low enough for you to step off if you wanted. 

“I’ll explore my room first. Maybe spend some time with you a bit later today.” He gave a nod as you climbed off and clicked the door open. You felt the ground shake as Soundwave left to his own room.

Your room was still large for a human, almost everything was. A bed larger than any you had seen on Earth and a soft press revealed it was rather soft but bounced back when you pressed on it. Maybe some form of memory foam? The dresser had cloths of several sizes and in many styles. Sadly all of which is darker and mute colors but you guessed that was just his taste. The brightest color of anything seemed to be a deep purple. Still beautiful but only looked darker against the blacks, navy blues, and deep browns. You had a bookshelf stuffed full with everything from comics to nonfiction to kids books. A desk with a vanity mirror and papers and pens in the drawer. Even an empty shelving unit for use later.

It wasn’t hard to see that Soundwave had certainly tried to make a room that could appeal to any human he could get but it all came together to feel to spread out and cold in a sense. You’d definitely find some way to fill so much empty space. Maybe a couple of pictures on the walls or a throw rug? Just something to break up the sea of black that the metal walls were colored in. At least the lights were interesting. Several small lights dotted the ceiling, none on their own bright but all together lighting up the room pretty well.

You wondered if they had anything like the glow in the dark plastic star stickers you had on the ceiling as a kid on Cybertron.

For now, you settled into the bed beneath the soft covers and tried to imagine what your new life with soundwave would be like.

[sonicrevival]

Ultimatum- Chapter 2 of 5: Partners

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500557/chapters/44003266#workskin

Sonic: Revival- Chapter 2 Ultimatum, Part 2 of 5: Partners Sonic skidded over the snowy ground, dodging another swipe from Mecha Sally’s blades, ducking into a roll to escape the blast from her head laser. “Silver, little help?!” He called out, backpedalling from his opponent. “Kinda busy here!” Silver shouted back, catching a barrage of missiles and hurling them back toward their source- The hulking, heavily armoured mech that barrelled toward the wreckage of the Tornado, swinging an equally massive maul down at the three Mobians ahead of it. The mech’s shield came up with unnatural speed, the missiles exploding against it harmlessly, and the trio scattered. Laughter sounded from the armoured cockpit, another barrage of missiles shooting skyward before arcing down toward the group. “Did you really think it would be that easy? That I would just let you walk away with my new favourite toy? Well, consider this your rude awakening!” Eggman grinned. Sonic gritted his teeth, wanting to bite back, to tear into Eggman for daring to refer to Sally that way, but he couldn’t take his attention away from the Robian for a moment, lest she skewer him on one of those blades. He was down to his last nerve. They had won. They’d saved her. They’d destroyed Eggman’s defences, defeated Mecha Sally, and evacuated the base. They’d bid their farewells to the Arctic Freedom Fighters, and climbed aboard the Tornado. They were home free. Then Eggman reactivated Mecha Sally and shot them from the sky with another of his blasted Egg Beaters. Now they were trapped in the middle of the icy tundra, caught between two opponents, both in full form while all four of the Freedom Fighters were tired. Silver was in the best shape of them all, but he still had to focus on evasion and defence, which wasn’t an easy task. There was nowhere to run. Even if they could’ve retreated, they would lose Sally again, perhaps this time for good. They had to fight, but they were running on empty. Worse, Mecha Sally seemed to be performing better in the freezing temperatures than she had anywhere else. He couldn’t tell if he was being hindered by the cold, or if he’d made another upgrade since their last fight. Eggman swung the maul down again, only for it to be enveloped in a teal glow, stopping dead. Silver buckled under the strain, growling as he forced himself to stand again. “Guys, now!” He shouted. “Right!” Amy called back, Eggman turning his cockpit to focus on her. The hedgehog was clinging to Tails as the fox dove toward him. He shifted, hurling her straight for Eggman, hammer forming in her grip. “Alright, let me show you what a real hammer looks like!” The shield snapped into place again, Amy’s weapon clanging dully against it, causing the mad dictator to laugh again. “Well, show me! I’m waiting!” “Gotcha!” She smirked. Eggman’s laughter stopped for a moment, as, with both arms occupied, Tails zipped past them, spinning into the cockpit itself. The robot stumbled back, knocked off-balance, with a crack spreading across the visor. Amy was thrown loose, allowing Tails to catch her and set her down. “That worked!” “Yeah, but he won’t fall for it again… That thing’s fast enough to counter Sonic, and it looks like he’s upgraded his targeting systems so we can’t overwhelm him with numbers again.” Tails replied. “It’s tough too. Hitting it wasn’t exactly painless.” “I’m starting to run low on energy too…” Silver added. “We need to find a way to end this, and fast…” “New target inbound.” Mecha Sally droned. “Airspeed: Approximately Mach 2.5. Distance: Ten kilometres and closing.” “A-ha, that will be Metal Sonic, back from his little mission!” Eggman grinned. “Another Freedom Fighter falls…” “Target does not match Metal Sonic’s signal. Warning: Large spike in Chaos Energy detected.” “Eh?” Eggman turned his machine’s scanners toward the source of the signal, the Freedom Fighters taking the moment’s distraction to regroup. “Target is decelerating. Switching to attack vector.” A flash of bronze, followed by the roar of engines and a cacophonous sonic boom, tore through the battleground. The pillar of fire and smoke speared between Eggman and Mecha Sally, arcing upward into a loop. The engines cut as it reached the apex, the figure slamming back into ground, kicking up a cloud of snow. Blue optics shone balefully from the mist, as the newcomer rose from its kneeling position and stepped into the light. “Okay…” Emerl slammed her fist into her open palm, rolling her neck back and forth as Nicole’s avatar flickered over her right shoulder. “Who’s first?” “Nicole?” Sonic ventured. “Hello, Sonic. Tails, Amy, Silver, good to see you all again.” She smiled back at them. “What’s going on? What’s with that robot?” Amy asked, bracing herself against her hammer. “Tails and I will explain later.” Nicole replied. “For now, this is my new friend, Emerl.” “Hey everyone.” Emerl called out, still focused on Mecha Sally. “Tails?” Sonic and Amy both turned to look at the fox, who in turn appeared to want to be anywhere but here. “Uh, it was a secret project from the old Brain Trust days. We elected to lock it up unless it was really, really needed… It’s performing well, though….” “Priority Five. Unit: NICOLE. You have activated the Gizoid unit?” If it was possible for a Robian to sound perplexed, Mecha Sally did. She kept her weapons trained on the new arrival, but her optics had locked on to the small avatar hovering near her. “Yes. And Sally, if the real you can hear me in there, then don’t worry. We’re going to get you out.” “This unit finds that… unlikely.” “Wow…” Emerl paused. While the Robian and the AI had conversed, her third optic had been scanning every detail of her newest opponent. “Just… wow.” “Haha, it looks like even your new weapon appreciates my genius!” Eggman laughed. “Emerl, this isn’t really the time to start being impressed with Eggman’s work…” Nicole frowned. “No, no, I’m impressed because this is easily the worst possible combat robot design ever.” “What?!” Six voices shouted at once. “Well, just look at it.” Emerl waved her hand, a hologram of Mecha Sally’s design appearing beside her. Another gesture and the hologram exploded, individual pieces spreading apart from each other. “All those weapons and armour are far too heavy for those servos to use properly. This frame is designed for speed and dexterity, but the robot itself has been built as a walking tank. It doesn’t even need most of these, it would legitimately be fine with one pair of guns and one pair of swords. Hell, with this many weapons it must struggle to power them all, I bet these weapons are actually weaker than they would be if they were fewer in number. And- Is that a gun in her cranium? Why? Just… why?” All eyes were on Emerl, slightly incredulous at her sudden outburst. Eggman seemed to recover the fastest. “If you’re quite done insulting my work… Mecha Sally, kill her.” He grumbled. “Yes Master.” She droned, stepping forward to swing her blade down toward Emerl’s head. The Gizoid sidestepped the swipe, arching her back away from a thrust, palmed aside her other arm, before raising her hand to meet the oncoming chop. With a loud clash, the energy sword met her left palm, and stopped in its tracks. Mecha Sally strained, trying to force the weapon down, but Emerl held firm. “Power issues? Called it,” She taunted. “Nicole, now!” “Right, right,” The AI nodded, flickering out as she beamed herself toward the Robian, only to bounce back. “Hng.. something’s blocking me out. Shielding her systems.” “Foolish little Freedom Fighter!” Eggman jeered. “Even you cannot get past Mecha Sally’s Power Ring Matrix!” “Thanks for telling us, genius!” Emerl tensed her fingers, and shattered the energy blade in her hand, shards falling away like glass. “That would be the backpack part, right? Wow, an external power unit on a combat droid, that just makes this worse.” “Her core should be in her chest.” Nicole corrected, tilting her head quizzically at Emerl’s hologram. “Wait.” “Only thing in the chest cavity is a self-destruct bomb, which just seems like the wrong way round to do things… Wait a second… oh σκατά.” “What the hell did you do!?” Sonic snarled, charging toward Eggman’s mech, only to bounce off the shield again. “I wouldn’t advise doing that, hedgehog.” Eggman laughed. “You see, after Mecha Sally’s near misses I decided to make sure that she could never be returned to your side. After all, a Robian core is a very powerful battery. Why, your father has kept on working without needing it replaced for well over twelve years now! The Princess’ core could run her body for decades… or it could run one, much larger robot for, oh, I’d say a few months? Like this one! And there’s my master-stroke in this, Freedom Fighters! You destroy my Egg Beater, and you will lose your precious Princess’ beating heart in the same blow!” Emerl’s attention shifted from the confrontation between the eternal enemies, as Mecha Sally hadn’t paused with the rest of them. Her remaining sword clashed dully against her plating. She backstepped, rolling around her slow swings, trying to reach her backplate. Her body pivoted at the waist, head opening up to expose the barrel of the gun hidden there, a pulse of energy thudding into the Gizoid’s face, knocking her head back for a moment. “Nicole, I know this is awful, but I need you to focus. I think we can fix this, I just need to get that power ring out,” Emerl rolled back, crouching low. “He… he tore her apart…” Nicole murmured, her avatar shimmering over her shoulder. “I know, I know, but we can turn this around. I’ve got a plan. Trust me, please,” She pleaded, dodging more shots from the Robian. “Right, right…. I can do this. We can do this,” Nicole shook her head, her image solidifying. “Sync?” “Sync!” Emerl burst forward, feeling the AI speeding up her reaction times again. “These cannon shots are weak as hell, but I think I’ve got a use for them…” Her crest popped up, an identical cannon emerging from within, blasting into the ground at Mecha Sally’s feet, kicking up a cloud of snow. The wall of cold obscuring her heat sensors, the snow itself blocking her line of sight, the Robian was unable to see Emerl rolling around and slamming into her back. “Oh my gods this thing has an ‘Open’ button!” Emerl groaned, opening the Ring Matrix and tearing the golden ring free, letting it slip through her fingers and slide down her arm until it rested in the crook of her elbow. Mecha Sally froze, then fell limp in the Gizoid’s arms. “Alright, I’m going to give her a charge to keep her alive, but it’ll let you get in there and free her. Unfortunately, it will probably charge her up a little, so the others are going to have a fight on their hands…” “The others? What about you?” Nicole asked. “I’m gonna take out the big bot. It’s predicting them, but that morbidly obese monster hasn’t got a clue about me.” Emerl glanced over, spotting the others dodging away from Eggman’s missile strikes, barely able to strike back. “But what about Sally’s core?!” “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Just hop into Sally’s systems and do what you can about that programming!” “Alright… Good luck,” She said, disappearing into the Robian’s systems. “You too…” Emerl nodded. With a pulse, an ember of golden Chaos energy ignited in the open Ring Matrix, before the Robian shuddered back to life and began to spasm, the new power flooding through her system, and a whole extra consciousness cramming itself into her already-limited processor. Emerl stepped back, looking up at the Egg Beater, swinging its hammer down toward the Freedom Fighters. The thrusters on her back warmed up, as she flicked the Power Ring back into her grip, clenching her fingers around it. She felt its remaining energies flow into her own core, enveloping her in gold, all three eyes burning with the same unearthly light. Her rockets fired, and she launched herself into the air, driving herself upwards and toward her quarry. Sonic’s last nerve was gone. Whatever shred of composure he had left had been torn apart when Eggman’s newest atrocity had been revealed. He slammed his body against the shield, still bouncing off without really denting it. If he’d just had his energy, he could’ve focused his fury into the power needed to pull Eggman out of his robot and make him pay for what he’d done. The Egg Beater shuddered as the newcomer robot slammed into the shield, engines roaring as she pushed against it. “I got Nicole into Mecha Sally’s systems, and I’m gonna extract the core from this mess of a mech, but I may have had to juice Sally up to keep her alive. Could you guys keep her off my back? Just long enough for Nicole to do her work!” Emerl shouted down to him. Sonic looked up at her, rage clearing for a moment, before spotting Mecha Sally charging toward her back. Seizing the chance, he leapt into the air, crashing into Mecha Sally, grabbing her and rolling over, sending both of them into a spin. Tearing herself free, Mecha Sally lashed out with her remaining sword, missing Sonic by a hair as he thrust his hands against her shoulder plates, boosting himself downward, both of them falling into the snow. She recovered faster, flipping a cannon out of her newly-swordless arm, aiming at Sonic as he began to pick himself up. Fortunately, a teal glow seized her arm, wrenching it away from Sonic, as Tails and Amy landed in front of him, giving him the room to stand. “I think we can handle this, right guys?” Sonic allowed himself a small smile. “After all, there’s nowhere left for her to run, and we just have to stall for time.” “Get out…” Mecha Sally growled, clanking her first against the side of her head, as her cannon fired at Silver. He blocked the blast with a wall of telekinetic force, but it was enough to release his grip on her, allowing her to charge the group again. “You’re becoming quite the pest,” Eggman growled, glaring at Emerl through his cockpit glass, as both missile pods locked onto her. “But know this, you won’t win this battle and save the Princess. You can do one or the other, but you can’t win without killing her.” “Eh, I’ll wing it,” She shrugged. Eggman growled and slammed his fist against the controls, grinning as he listened to the sound of the missile pods releasing an entire salvo in a single moment. “Wuh-oh.” Emerl flipped back, accelerating away from the trail of rockets. A copy of Mecha Sally’s arm cannon grew from each of her forearms, firing two pulses of plasma into the cloud of artillery following her. Two detonations blossomed into a raging inferno, a chain-reaction of explosions that obscured the two opponents from each others’ view. Seizing her chance, she dropped back to the snowy ground, discarding the cannons, as her forearms began to shift and reshape. “You call those embarrassments on Mecha Sally’s arms swords?” Her hands folded away into a pair of trapezoid panels, golden plasma forming a pair of forward-facing blades on each of them. The blades hummed, the energy visibly flowing from the outer edge, looping into the gap between the two. “How about these?!” Surging forward, she leapt through the cloud of smoke left over from the conflagration. The Egg Beater lurched forward, swinging the maul straight down toward her. Leaning back, she slid on her knees under the head of the weapon as it crashed down, scraping against the icy ground as she scissored her chainblades around the haft. Trapped between the two blades on each weapon, metal began to melt away from the hammer, blades sawing into it. Eggman growled, pulling the hammer back up, only to drag the Gizoid up with it. Letting gravity take her, Emerl slid down the pole, cutting the blades deeper into it, until with an almighty flex and a roar of exertion, she split the maul in two. Folding the dual-chainswords back into her arms, Emerl grabbed the falling half-maul, rockets straining against its weight. Snarling, she twisted her body, the momentum keeping her in motion and carrying the maul in a wide arc around her form. “Catch!” She released her grip on the ruined maul, hurling it straight into the Egg Beater. The huge mech stumbled back, unbalanced by the weight of its own weapon, and pitched over, crashing down into the snow. It threw the hammerhead aside, but Emerl was already upon it, missiles spearing from the two launchers that had formed over her shoulders. The shield snapped into place once more, blocking the rockets, but once again, she used the smoke to break Eggman’s lock on her. Flying in close, she ducked under the shield, grabbing onto the mounting bracket with one hand, as she reformed the plasma chainblade on the other, driving the weapon straight into the joint between arm and shield. Searing through the struts, she tore the shield from its mounting and jumped onto the incoming right arm, running the length of the forearm before slicing her blades directly into the elbow, cleaving the joint apart. “No!” Eggman shouted, watching her take to the air and soar away from the severed limb. Furiously punching in commands, the mech rose back to its feet and opened up its missile pods again, ready to launch yet another barrage. Before he could lock on, however, Emerl swerved back toward him and fired the launchers on her shoulders again. Each rocket streaked from its tube, and slammed into the pods, detonating every single one of the would-be dictator’s unlaunched munitions. There weren’t many left by this point, but the blast was still enough to destroy both pods and heavily damage the Egg Beater’s shoulders. Inside the cockpit, Eggman raged, slamming his fists against the console, howling with fury. Wherever this tiny bot had been dredged up from, it was slowly dismembering his newest Egg Beater, and had also eliminated Mecha Sally’s defences against mental intrusion. Sparing a glance for the mechanical squirrel, he saw her struggling to hold back the four opponents, mostly forced to try and avoid their attacks and strike back whenever she could. Even a man of his stubbornness could recognise that the battle was lost… but ordering a retreat now would just bring the Freedom Fighters and their new mechanical friend straight into his Death Egg. Staying to fight would see this newcomer disable his mech and allow Tails to extract Sally’s core from it, while Nicole would overcome the mechanical squirrel’s defences and restore her mind. Either way, the battle was lost. But, he allowed himself a grin, that didn’t necessarily mean the Freedom Fighters were going to win. Eggman took a deep breath, and returned to his controls. He began the separation sequence for his Eggmobile, then turned to his failsafe commands. Turning the keys above the two he had chosen, he sat back in his chair as the explosive bolts connecting the Egg Beater’s helmet fired, blasting the domed structure clear of the heavily damaged mech. Enclosed within his glass bubble, the dictator steered his pod free of the Egg Beater as its knees buckled and the giant collapsed awkwardly into the arctic wastes. Unit M-S_01 beginning failsafe detonation sequence. Unit E-B_03 beginning EMP charge. As the mech hit the ground, a panel on its chestplate opened, and a small cylindrical shape rose from it, red warning lights flashing along it. At the same time, Mecha Sally threw Sonic off of her, then paused, going rigid as her own torso plating hinged apart, exposing a round, black shape with a digital dial on it, which began to rapidly count down from sixty. “Eggman!” Sonic yelled, glaring hatefully up at the Eggmobile. The scientist simply laughed, turning the vehicle around and accelerating back toward the Death Egg. Sonic turned back to his friends, looking straight at Tails. “Can you get that thing out?!” “N-not without my tools, and those were in the hold of the Tornado!” The fox replied, panic evident in his voice and the look on his face. “Silver, what about you?! Can you brute force it!?” “I’m trying, but I can’t get a grip on it! It’s integrated into her construction and I’m not that precise with these powers!” At the same time, Emerl slammed her fists into the metal on either side of the EMP generator, crumpling the structure. She gripped the cylinder in both hands and pulled, wrenching the whole assembly from the downed Egg Beater. The slowly-accelerating warning lights did not go out, however, and Emerl quickly saw the reason: Wired into the base of the weapon was a small orb, about the size of a Mobian heart, pulsing with blue light, and with four connection points, all linked up to the detonator. It didn’t take much to figure that this was Mecha Sally’s stolen core, now serving as the battery for the weapon that would kill her, Nicole, and Sally herself if she didn’t find a way to stop it. Emerl cursed quietly to herself. “Next time I see that man, I will kill him.” She growled, as she began to disconnect the wires from the core itself, tearing them from the bomb so as to not damage any part of the core. She let her shoulders sag in relief, tension leaving her frame for a moment. Then she noticed that the EMP was still beeping, and growing more frantic all the while. Disconnecting the core hadn’t stopped it, only caused it fire earlier, presumably with less power, but still in killing range for its intended targets. The core and the EMP were connected, not by wires but by a welded link. She attempted to pull them apart, but the joint was too strong and she didn’t feel like accidentally damaging the core while trying to save it. Activating the head laser again, she focused the beam and severed the metal structure holding the two devices together. Gently, she placed the core down on the snow, then took several steps forward before leaping into the air and blasting away, launching herself in the direction of Eggman’s slowly-retreating hovercraft. It took less than a second for her to make the calculations necessary, before she folded her body up and span rapidly in place, mimicking something she’d seen Sonic do during his fight. Rather than launching herself forward, however, she uncurled and thrust her arm out, putting all of the momentum from her rapid rotation behind it as she hurled the EMP generator after the mad scientist’s escape craft. The weapon rocketed from her fingers as her momentum slowed, and she halted, hovering with her hand shielding her optics from the glare as it travelled along its predicted arc and bounced off the cockpit glass, moments before a small pulse rippled out from it and sent the Eggmobile into an uncontrolled downward spin. For a moment, she considered flying after him. Ultimately, however, saving Sally was the most important task. Rescuing Nicole’s friends was why she had come out here, after all. Her optics returned to their normal colour, as her ring energy faded, and she dropped back to the ground, scooping up the fallen core as she landed. It still pulsed regularly in her hand, and there looked to be no signs of damage from the rushed separation. Across from her, the others were still clustered around Mecha Sally. The robot was no longer fighting them, simply standing in place as the clock in her chest counted down. The quartet’s attempts to pull it from her body weren’t going well, Emerl noted, as she approached. Sonic’s head jerked up toward the Emerl, as if he was expecting a hostile, but he clocked the armoured figure and the small orb clutched protectively in her hands, and relaxed slightly. “Hey, you’ve got a lot of strength in ya. Think you can pull this thing out?” He asked hopefully. “Not without damaging her,” Emerl shook her head. “From the plans, it’s pretty securely mounted in there, probably bigger than the opening. You’d probably need to partially disassemble her to do that, and not only is this not a good environment for that, but it’s something I can’t do. I’m basically only good for fighting.” “Then… there’s nothing we can do to save her?” Silver asked. “There has to be something!” Sonic snapped. “We didn’t come all this way just to lose her like this!” “Nicole can do it,” Tails spoke up, focused on the countdown. “We can’t remove the bomb, at least, not here… but Nicole can turn it off.” “How much longer does she have left?” Emerl asked. “Thirty seconds.” “Then she needs to hurry it up…” Amy murmured. “Come on, Nicole…” The timer continued to tick down, dipping under twenty seconds as the five waited in stoic silence. Then, as the red digits began the final countdown from ten, the clock stopped. For a moment, it slowly dropped another few digits, taking more and more time to change each time, before stopping altogether and flashing at the frozen time, before deactivating entirely. All five cheered, as Nicole appeared, flickering in front of Mecha Sally. “I’ve shut down the bomb, and disconnected it completely, so Eggman can’t turn it back on,” She announced. “Fortunately I hadn’t got into the real heavy work on her processor, so I was able to divert my attention and deactivate it.” “Oh thank Aurora,” Sonic sighed heavily with relief. “So, you’ve just got to fix her brain now, right?” “That’s correct,” Nicole nodded. “Sit tight for just a while longer, and I’ll be right back.” Nicole faded from the physical plane again, diving into the depths of Mecha Sally’s processor.

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Recovering Together

A/N – Based on a lot of head-canons from @rocksinmuffin and @straightouttacybertron so extra special thanks to them for that. I really like this chapter ^_^

Warnings – Mentions of self-harm.

Rating – T

Swerve sat on the floor in his hab-suite, despondent over the way he’d hurt you. His optics welled with lubricant at the thought of your visits with Ratchet and Rung. Prior to the accident, he’d thought ‘eyebrows’ had been wrong and that he could be good for you – with you – but intellectuals were rarely wrong, and the truth often hurt. All Swerve had intended to do was share the beauty of space with you as you often shared amazing things with him, however, he may as well have thrown you out of the ship’s air-lock for all the good it had done.

Another glance at the room he’d prepared for you was enough to start the coolant flowing. Swerve’s shoulders wracked with sobs, his vocaliser crackled, and he had his first rational thought of the day; he had to let you go.

Tipping his helm to the side, Swerve saw a sharp piece of metal under the desk which held your ‘house’, something he must have missed whilst cleaning. Slowly, he picked it up, fat drops of coolant fell on it as he twirled it around in his servos. Shakily, he held it over his forearm, ready to puncture until all the energon left his body.

“This is what you deserve!” He cried, thrusting down.

He dropped the metal with a clatter before it touched him, hating himself all the more for failing.

“Unicron take me, I can’t even do this for her…”

Crumpling to the floor, Swerve opted to let himself waste away; he’d almost done it before, this time he would succeed.

On the walk back from Rung’s, you felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It was obvious that you weren’t fully recovered yet but addressing the problem was a start. You wondered briefly what you’d tell everyone about the ‘incident’; it was a secret between Rung, Ratchet, Swerve, and Rodimus, which meant that by now, the entire ship knew about it.

“(Y/N)! Are you going to die?! Can we stop it? What do we do?” Tailgate, a small, blue bot you’d grown rather fond of panicked upon seeing you; his optics filled up with unshed coolant.

“They can cry?” You were taken back by the revelation.

Cyclonus, a somewhat intimidating, larger, purple bot pulled Tailgate back slightly, “Give her some room.”

You smiled at the small exchange between the two, “No guys, I’m not dying; that’s been greatly exaggerated. I just had a human problem, no big deal.”

“So, you’re okay?” Tailgate whimpered.

“At the top of my game.”

He hugged you tightly; despite the inability to breathe properly, you noticed the hug was much lighter than his first attempt which had almost bruised several bones. “Good, I don’t want you to go anywhere. Do you- do you want to come to “Visages” with us?”

If there was any air left in you, you would have laughed at how fast the bot had recovered. “Another time maybe,” You breathed, “I have to see Swerve about something. See you later?”

“Okay, next time.”

Tailgate skipped away, Cyclonus lingered a moment, gave an acknowledging nod and trailed after him; in his own way, that was as good as staying “you’re a part of the family now.”

Deciding that the excuse ‘human problem,’ was effective in the case of questioning, you continued the journey home. You paused, had you really thought of it as home? Yes, brief as it was; perhaps the odd inhabitants of the Lost Light were slowly becoming family. You entertained the strange thought until you reached the hab-suite. You placed your hand on the scanner, mildly annoyed when it wouldn’t open.

“Swerve, are you in there?”

A shuffling of metal revealed that he was; Swerve cursed himself for the noise.

“Did- did everything go okay with Ratchet and Rung? Are you injured?” Swerve asked from the room, keeping his priorities straight.

“I’m fine Swerve, there’s nothing wrong. Can I come in now please?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What’re you talking about?” You laughed. “Is this Cybertronian humour?”

“It’s not a joke (Y/N), I think you should leave.”

You frowned, “Alright, I get it, you need time; I’ll be back in ten-”

“No, I mean- I think you should move out.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry (Y/N),” Swerve said solemnly through the door, shutting his vocaliser off afterwards to hide any more pain.

“Swerve, I get it, you’re upset but you need to pull yourself together and let me in to talk this out.”

Nothing happened. “Swerve, you open the door this instant!” You used the tone angry parents often used. “Alright, that’s it young bot, you won’t talk, fine, then listen! I chose you as my roommate because you’re my friend. There wasn’t a moment that I thought things would magically work out perfectly; life isn’t a TV show. There could’ve been a million complications, there probably still will be and that’s alright, you want to know why? Because we’re going to learn from our mistakes. I don’t like Space too much, we know that now and can act accordingly. So, you’re going to let me in and we’re going to move on from this, happier that we learnt something. Now, open the damned door.”

You had to wait a few minutes before Swerve complied, he barrelled out, crying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You could’ve died; I’m sorry.”

You hugged him as best you could, “Hey,” You soothed, “I’m made of stronger stuff than that. Come on, where’s my best Swerve? The one who has a joke about everything? I’d tell a space pun to start us off, but I need a bit longer to planet.”

Swerve managed a weak laugh, “That joke was out of this world.”

He held your back lightly, you smiled sympathetically. “Roommates?”

“Roommates,” he agreed.

The next few weeks passed by almost easily; there were many instances where you and Swerve learnt about each-other’s species and had to adjust accordingly. However, after almost a month, the two of you got into a routine. He learnt not to attempt cooking for humans, just as you learnt not to touch the power cables near his side of the room. Sometimes he would recharge when you were sleeping but mostly, he’d leave the room and tend the bar; personally, you liked it when he recharged with you, the two of you would swap stories till you fell asleep.

Since the routine acted like a guide, settling you further into ship life, you didn’t know whether to be concerned or excited when the routine was broken.

A ship-wide announcement woke you from a deep sleep. Rodimus’ voice boomed ecstatically over the speaker, commanding that everyone gather to the main hall for a meeting. Although you were half the size of him, you sat on Swerve’s shoulder, mainly to stop his panicked ramblings about the many, many, many ways you could get hurt.

“Alright, is everyone here?” Rodimus asked, running energetically on the balcony. “Good? Good! We have great news everyone; I know some of us have been going a bit stir-crazy lately, but there is no need to worry; there’s a planet nearby and we’re going to PARTY there.” He banged a gong with his face on it.

Cheers exploded through the hall, echoing wildly until Megatron stepped forward, bringing a hush over the crowd.

“What I believe my co-captain meant to say,” Megatron glared at Rodimus who was looking very impressed with himself, “is that we may visit this planet, not party on it. We will conduct ourselves to our best behaviour, and we will do nothing to offend the locals there. On another note, the planet is hostile towards non-organics, that means holo-forms for everyone. Anyone who misbehaves shall be punished accordingly. We will reach the planet in three cycles. Is everything clear?”

There was a general murmur of agreement, leaving Megatron free to excuse himself.

Swerve had stopped listening halfway through the speech, he was stuck trying to think of how he could ask you to go with him without making things seem like a date. If he could make you see how good he was as a potential boyfriend, then surely your relationship would come together more naturally. Should he ask now? Should he wait a while? Would it be funnier if he made a joke out of it? Would you even want to go?

“Cool,” You said. “A friendly planet? I could use a chance to stretch my legs. You coming too, Swerve? I don’t really want to go on my own.”

“YES!” Swerve shouted elatedly. “I mean- uh- Yeah, I could use some new stuff in the bar, maybe I’ll find something there.”

[moocha-muses]

Tales from Apocalypse Desiderata: John Mole Meets his Match

I may not be playing the Apocalypse Desiderata hood ever again (and Owl Creek and I are pretty serious these days), but there are still a few stories about it rattling around in my head. So I’ve decided to share.

This first one is, predictably enough, about John Mole. It’s longer than I thought it would be (behold the great wall of text), and I haven’t really edited it, but @holleyberry pretty much dared me so this is really her fault.

Anyway.

This is a story about new life, and vanity projects, and maybe even true love.

And if you miss my Apocalypse even a little, this one’s for us both:

*ahem*

Summer was almost heavy in Desiderata Valley.

           In the first few days after "The Day", Ginger Newson had expected the new world to be much quieter than the old one.

           She had been wrong. Sure, there were no more radios and televisions, no more cars driving noisily down the road, but other sounds had gotten louder to compensate (or at least the vacuum left by noise pollution made it seem that way.) There was always someone humming or chopping wood or a bird thrilling loudly through the ever-growing woods.

           The world was still hot, and loud, and still alive.

           And today, since it was Gavin’s turn to watch the twins, she had work to do.

           Ginger tied her hair up and whistled a little as she strolled through the summer sunshine. Violet Jocque trudged much less cheerfully along beside her. "Why am I here again?"

           "Please," Ginger gave her hair a final tug. "You begged to come."

           "No, I said I wanted to ask Mr. Aspir for a lesson in first aid."        

           "You begged me with your eyes," Ginger corrected. "I know lovesick longing when I see it. Oh, please Ginger, let me come along with you so I can swoon over John Mole while he gets all shirtless and sweaty in his backyard."

           Violet blushed. "I am never bringing breakfast over to your place again."

           Ginger laughed. "Please! Your mom is such a soft touch." She stopped. "We're here!” She waggled her eyebrows. “You need a minute to pretty yourself up?"

           "Shut up," Violet hissed. "Just knock on the door already."

           Ginger gave the door exactly one perfunctory knock before she barged right in. "Mr. Mole? It's Ginger! I brought Violet Jocque with me, I hope that's okay!"

           John Mole emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a damp rag. He had a smear of oil near one ear and a toothy grin splitting his face. Neither girl had ever seen him look so excited. "About time! Come on!"

           He ducked behind both girls, making little shooing motions towards the back door.

           Ginger looked back at him, eyes wide. She broke into a matching grin. "Did you finally finish your big secret project?"

           "Today's the day," John confessed.

           "All right!" Ginger grabbed Violet's hand and started dragging her along. "Come on! I've been waiting ages for this!"

           "What secret project?" Violet asked. "Hi, Mr. Mole."

           "Morning, Vi." John cut them off at the door and flung it dramatically open. Violet blinked. It was John's same old backyard, with its scraggly vegetable plot, and its pool, and the usual collection of salvaged car parts and old microwaves and . . . something under a sheet.

           Ginger dropped Violet's hand and scampered forward, dancing around whatever it was John had covered. "Come on! Show me, show me, show me!"

           John cleared his throat. "May I present-" he jerked the sheet away with a flourish, "- Desiderata's newest future resident!"

           Both girls make appropriate noises - Violet was surprised, and Ginger was more than impressed. She was delighted.

           It was a Servo. A slightly junky, thrown together,homemade Servo. But it was a real, honest-to-Watcher, Servo.

           "This is amazing!" Ginger exclaimed. She dropped to the cement for a closer look. "Can I touch it?"

           "Sure," John said. "Better do it now before the A.I. kicks on and it develops a sense of personal space."

           Ginger lifted on arm and checked the joints. "It's so smooth. I could never build something like this." She sighed. "I wish I could have gone to super-secret-spy-school."

           John sighed. "It wasn't a spy school, I just went to normal - whatever, cheer up. You built pretty much that whole watering bot last week, didn't you?"

           Ginger brightened. "I guess I am getting pretty skilled. But this is a whole other level, Mr. Mole. Is it really going to work? I mean, this isn't just a shell, is it?"

           "I hope not." John shrugged. "I'm pretty sure it'll function. I mean, I didn't have the whole factory shell to install everything in so there’s a lot of improvisation in the parts, but I had the servos and the A.I. chip and the battery and the solar back-up system. So long as I installed everything correctly (which is a pretty big assumption), it ought to boot up just fine."

           "This is way more amazing than a few solar panels," Violet gushed. She looked embarrassed. "Not that the solar panels aren't great! I mean - "

           "I just hope this guy will be as useful as solar panels. But I couldn't figure out how to re-purpose the battery for anything, and we weren't exactly short on raw materials for the body, so I figured, what the hell?"

           Ginger sighed. "I wish you had let me work on it with you."

           "Oh no, Newson," John smoothed a loving hand over the Servo's head. "This was my baby. You have your own projects."

           "Fine," Ginger pouted. She brightened almost instantly. "But I get to help with the next one!"

           "Hey," John patted her on the shoulder, "if you find another A.I. chip and the right moving parts, you have my permission to take charge of the whole build."

           "You never know," Ginger said cheerfully. "So are we gonna initialize this thing or what?"

           "That is why we're out here." John pulled a screwdriver from his pocket, stooped, and paused. "Do you wanna do it?"

           "Me?" Ginger looked surprised. "I thought this was your baby."

           "Yeah, well," John fiddled idly with his goggles. "I'm not sure I want it to imprint on me. I mean, it'll be living here, so that could get kind of weird. Right?"

           Ginger had gotten to know John Mole pretty well in the past few months. She thought she maybe knew a thing or two about him that he hadn't realized himself. So she looked from him, to the Servo, and then to her awkward, flushing friend and an evil little grin flashed across her face. "I think Violet should do it."

           John looked up. "Well, if you don't want to, Newson, I guess I don't see why not. You're a hard worker, right Vi?"

           "Me?" Violet squeaked. She took one look at Ginger's expression and turned bright pink. "Oh, no no no no no, not me!" she stammered. She turned pinker and took a deep breath. "I mean," Violet went on, trying her hardest to stop blushing, "you should get Natasha to do it. Or Sharon Wirth, or Tara Kat. . ."

           John shook his head emphatically and rolled his eyes. "The last thing I need in my life is a second Natasha Una," he said darkly. He gave Violet a friendly pat on the arm. "Look, I've got the plate off for you. Go on, kid. Give it a go."

           Violet shot Ginger a glare. Ginger shrugged and grinned. "Well, if you insist," She knelt on the discarded sheet. "Um, which button is it?"

           "The red one."

           "Here goes nothing!" She pushed the red button.

           All three Sims watched in silence for a moment, and just when John was about to sigh and get the drawing board back out, there was a *Whir* and a *Clank* and the Servo sprang upward on its carefully oiled legs.

           Its mechanical eyelids slid up and its yellow eyes homed right in on its Creator. With a single fluid, astonishing motion, the Servo tilted forward and pressed its metal faceplate gently against John's lips.

           Ginger burst into laughter.

           The servo leaned back. "Who. Are. You?" it asked. It blinked. There was a loud whirring sound and the servo's flat metal brows tilted into a puzzled position. "Who - who. Am. I?"

           Ginger gasped for air. "Did you see that? I can't believe it. It really kissed him!"

           John's cheeks had gone slightly red, and he touched his lips without seeming to notice.  "I, er, forgot about names," he answered. Violet barely heard him over Ginger's giggling.

           Ginger choked. "You never came up with a name? You've been working on this for months!"

           John shrugged. "I got distracted. How about . . . how about Lucy?"

           Ginger snorted and punched him lightly in the side. "Believe me, Mr. Mole, you do not want to name this bot after your mom. That'll get real weird, real fast." She thought for a minute. "Well, Violet is like its mom, right? What about a flower name? Rose? Lily? Edelweiss?"

           Violet's nose wrinkled. "Ugh. It's a robot, not a Sim. It should have a robot name." She turned to the Servo, who was still staring at John. “So,” she said, “Are you a boy or a girl?”

           "Boy?" The servo tilted its head and its eyebrows did that thing again. "Girl?"

           "You don't have to be one or the other," Violet assured it. "How about we call you . . . um . . . Gear?"

           The Servo blinked. "Geeeaar," it said slowly. "Gear," it repeated. "Gear Gear Gear Gear Gear Gear Gear Gear Geeeeeaaaaar." Its hinged jaw moved slowly up and down as it tasted the sound. "I like . . . Gear? I like. Gear." It looked at John. "Do you? Like Gear?"

           John still looked very flustered. "Uh, sure? So long as you do."

           The Servo nodded. Its metal eyelids flickered. "My name. Is Gear. What is your. Name?"

           "John. Um, John Mole." John laughed, sudden, loud and happy. "I'm really pleased to meet you!"

 Two Weeks Later:

             Violet glared at the Servo that had shown up on her doorstep. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not your mom!"

           Gear shook their metal head. "You named me. You initiated me. You are. The closest thing I. Have. I need instruction in . . . many. Things." They cocked their head to one side like an appealing puppy. "Please?"

           "You've got John."

           "John." The Servo issued a series of whirs and stutters that sounded, at least to Violet, a little like a longing sigh. "John Mole is  . . . not a parental figure."

           A sudden rush of empathy squashed most of Violet's irritation. "All right, Gear. Come on in. I guess you can't eat breakfast." Suddenly she grinned.

           "Hey, Gear. Have you got anything in your data-banks about a game called 'soccer'?"

[servetolive]

“Gonna take a risk, gonna take a line.” Data/B4

alright, my turn. super fluffy. also, long af and going all over the place, eventually having NOTHING to do with the prompt.

“I can’t believeyou’re doing this,” Maddox huffed angrily as he burst into his office andheaded for his desk. “For the first time in years, I’m making progress. We’re–”

“Commander.”

Data gave Maddox astern look to let him know that B4 was not negotiable.

“It has been eighteenmonths,” he said. “We agreed on a year.”

Maddox pursed his lipsinto a line.

“Is there anything Ican do to ch–”

“No.”

Maddox sighed andlooked at Data for a moment before he turned to his desk and pulled his draweropen.

“B4 is prone to boutsof depression and anxiety,” he began. Data did not miss the sound ofresignation in his voice as he pulled out a small case and handed it to him,brow furrowed, averting his eyes.

“If he doesn’t comeout of it in a week, give him about a gram and a half. I usually put it in icecream or a soda; he has quite the sweet tooth.”

Data took the case andgave it a puzzled look. Maddox moved over to his terminal, swung the monitoraround, and began typing.

“I’m sending thecontents to you now, as well as his files.” Before Data could ask, Maddox wenton: “Meet me outside at 1700 tomorrow.”

“Commander,” Datasaid, stepping closer to Maddox, lowering his voice.

“Would you agree that‘no contact’ would be best for B4?”

For a moment, Maddox’seyes made contact with just about everything besides Data, before settling onhim tensely.

“Under thecircumstances,” he said, with some resignation. “Yes. I would agree.”

They arrived at 1645, just to be sure. Data made sure to letLore and his daughter know that they were there for support primarily; that he would handle the exchange.

At exactly 1655,Maddox–in civilian clothes, as it was a Saturday–opened the door of theDaystrom, and held it open for Data’s brother. Holding his personal affects ina metal luggage with both of his hands, his shoulders hunched tensely, Maddoxand B4 made their way down the large staircase towards his family.

Lore and Lal stood afew paces back from Data, wearing dark sunglasses, as if it were necessary tohide their suspicion and animosity. It was windy in Sacramento during the fall,and although Lal maintained her severe posture, her hair and black dressbillowed around her.

As B4 approached, hecouldn’t help but notice how he looked: clean, well groomed, with a newoutfit–not a wrap, as he had expected–that was tailored to his specifics. Hischin was tucked into his chest, and he stopped walking some five meters awayfrom the three androids. Maddox, although smartly dressed, seemed tired–as ifhe hadn’t slept, dark bags lining his blue eyes.

Data walked up tothem.

“Little One,” B4 saidsolemnly.

“Big Brother,” hesaid. “Are you ready to go home?”

B4 turned to Maddox,who nodded at him. He looked past Data’s shoulder to his niece and firstyoungest; the former quirked the left corner of her lips up to offer asemblance of encouragement.

“Bruce,” he began.Maddox waited for him to finish, but nothing else came from his mouth.

All of a sudden, B4dropped his belongings and threw his arms around Maddox’s shoulders. Datablinked; Lore and Lal remained still.

Surprised, Maddoxslowly brought his hands up around B4′s back and returned the hug. He pulledhimself away and removed his glasses.

“B4, I–” Maddox turnedto glance past Data at Lore and Lal, whose mouths were firm, hard lines. Helicked his lips and grasped B4′s biceps firmly.

“Take care ofyourself, alright?”

He gave him a pat,which was B4′s signal to go. Data approached Maddox next, but before he couldsay anything, Maddox pocketed his glasses and produced a data rod.

“These are his custody transfer orders. I’ve already beamed theremainder of his belongings to your quarters aboard the Enterprise.”

As B4 walked sullenly,Lore placed an arm around his upper shoulders to usher him away.

Maddox, again, seemedto want to look everywhere except for into Data’s eyes.

“His games andpersonal PADD are with him. He’s particularly fond of the blocks kinetic sand.He likes to play with either one of them for a period of an hour each day,usually after some other mandatory event. If he–”

“Commander,” Datastopped him. This time, his own brow was furrowed. He stepped closer to Maddox,and took the Data rod from his hand, lingering the contact.

“He is in–”

“I know,” Maddoxinterrupted him. Data watched the human’s Adam’s apple bob as he forced anawkward smile. “I know he is.”

Lal moved forwardrapidly to take hold of B4′s belongings, at the same time that Data backedaway. It was all so seamless; like a dance.

“Thank you,Commander,” she said after standing upright with the parcel in her hand.

Maddox turned on hisheel to march back up the steps.

Data put an arm aroundB4′s waist as they walked away. B4 turned over his shoulder multiple times.

Data did once, to seethat Maddox had not looked back a single time.

Now, Lore transmitted to Data through theirwireless connection, We just have to see what that freak did to him.

That day, Lal hadtaken him by his hand and led him to his new room. Data had to request yetanother change of quarters since his family’s collective concern had causedthem to recall his brother from Maddox’s care.

Silent, and with apainful look in his eyes that left both Lal and Lore distraught, B4 onlyflopped on his bed, curled into himself, and immediately put himself into sleepmode.

For the next threeweeks, they had tried everything.

Lore came in, stroked B4′s head, tried to read Stuart Little to him. B4 did not react, but juststared at the ceiling.

Lal tried a differentapproach. She rushed into his room every evening after classes, excitedlytelling him about her day. When he didn’t respond, she pretended that he didanyway, and sat with him as she did her homework.

Data tried too. Atfirst he tried talking about the adventures he had on the bridge, then he triedtalking about the different people he interacted with from day to day. Then hetried with simple interrogatives, carefully avoiding the topic of Maddox.Nothing.

One day, Data camehome to the sound of B4 sobbing. Lore was standing in the doorway, with adisturbed look on his face as Lal sat on her oldest uncle’s bed, massaging hisback.

“Maybe you should callhim, Uncle B,” she said, looking directly at her father for help.

“I already tried,” B4said. “He won’t answer.”

Turning away from thedoor, Lore sneered to Data in passing:

“I’m telling you, D.That queer did something to him.”

Eventually, he went toDeanna.

“Do you think thatseparating him from Maddox was the best idea?” she asked him, posing herquestion in a careful manner.

Data hummed,considering it carefully.

“Lore, Lal and myselfassumed that it would be the healthiest option.”

“Why?”

Data’s neck servostwitched. How could he convey the concept of a “bad feeling?”

“I am not sure,” headmitted. It was true. He had reviewed all of Maddox’s files on his brother,and could find no substantial reason to believe that any abuse had taken place.“Should I send him back?”

“Absolutely not,” sheadvised, standing up to sit next to Data. “B4 is quite bit different fromyou, Lore, and your daughter. He is more vulnerable in many ways that I don’tunderstand.”

“I am not sure that Iunderstand either, Counselor.”

“Maddox,” thecyberneticist said as he answered Data’s video call. He seemed just as tiredand bitter as he did when he had last met with Data to turn B4 over to him. Hewas also obviously busy.

“Commander, I hope youare well.”

“Captain,” Maddox said. “It’s Captain now.”

“Ah. Congratulations.”

Maddox didn’t quite roll his eyes, but the intent was therejust the same.

“Can I help you withsomething, Commander?”

“As a matter of fact,you can.”

He explained thesituation in detail. Maddox was quiet, but continued to tap commands into hisPADD as Data talked. There was no indication that he had been listening untilhe spoke, his eyes remaining fixed on his work.

“Did you give him adose of the substance I gave you?”

This was an obviousquestion that Data was not entirely prepared to answer.

“Not yet.”

“My instructions wereclear to you, Mr. Data.”

“I was simplywondering if there were—“

“I have to get going,”Maddox sighed. “Itwas good speaking to you.”

He disconnectedwithout saying another word, leaving Data more puzzled than before.

Could he and hisfamily have been wrong?

“Uncle B,” Lalgroaned, pulling on his arm. “Come on, get up and play with me!”

It had been some timeago when Lal had last played with B4 as if they were both children, and Dataknew that his daughter was doing this largely for her uncle’s benefit.

B4 had long sincestopped hiding in his sleep cycle, and lay awake, his pillow stained and greasywith yellow tears.

“Baby Girl, please,”he moaned, turning his face into his pillow. “Leave me alone.”

Lal left B4′s room indespair, the door sliding shut behind her.

Lore moved around toData’s desk and and placed his hands flat against the desk.

“What the fuck do we do?” He said, exasperated.

Data blinked at hisbrother, and reached into his drawer.

“Throw it out,” hisbrother said immediately.

The three of themstood in a circle in Data’s living room, considering the palm-sized containerin hand, full of a thin white powder.

Lal stepped forward to examineit. “Father,” she said. “You said there was nothing harmful in it?”

“Not that I could see; no,” Data responded. “The active ingredients are live nanobits. The rest is chaff.”

Lore considered this for a second, before going to the replicator to order a straw.

“It could be anything,” Lal conceded.

“Only one way to find out.” With the tip of his finger, Lore sliced the plastic into a pipe about three inches long. “I say we all try it first before we give it him.”

It was a sound idea, but before Lore could place the edge of his straw into the powder, Data closed the item shut and put it in his pocket.

“There is evidence,” he explained, to Lore’s annoyance, “That B4 has been exposed to this substance before with positive results. A test is unnecessary.”

Lore snapped his fingers.

“It was made for Big Brother, Lore,” Data said. “Not us.”

B4 referred to it as his medicine. It was the only time in eight weeks that he had sat upright in his bed since he had arrived.

Data carefully measured his dosage. To his surprise, B4 leaned forward and stuck his tongue out for him to sprinkle it onto.

Data had his own reservations about it, but he did it. B4 closed his eyes, stuck his tongue back into his mouth and swallowed.

“Thank you, Little One.” B4 turned over on his bed, turning his back to Data.

Feeling bemused and somewhat useless, Data stood up, dimmed the lights, and left B4′s room for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Time to take her home, her dizzy head is con-sci-ence la-den…”

Data stopped typing at his terminal. It was his off day, but Lal was in school and Lore was socializing. His artificial ear drum tweaked at the strange combination of B4′s well toned voice, and a poorly tuned, off-beat plucking of guitar strings.

“Time to take a ride, it leaves today…”

He poked his head into B4′s room, only to see his older brother give the first smile he had seen since before he had been sent to Daystrom. He was holding Data’s guitar, and had adjusted the pegs on the high E-string so much that it had busted.

“Brother,” Data said, entering to sit in the chair across from B4′s bed. “You are singing Big Empty.”

 “Mm-hmm,” he said, happily. “Bruce taught me.”

“You mean, Commander Maddox uploaded a program into your neural net?”

“Mm-mm,” B4 said, smiling down at Data’s guitar. He wasn’t holding it in the most efficient way. He was bearing down on the neck a bit too hard, and when he strummed, it gave a dead, muted sound instead of resonating.

“He taught me. He said it would help me with coordination.” He gave the plectrum a few more random strokes, and sang another verse of the song, playing his guitar off-key and off-beat.

Data tried to tap his foot and nod in time, but it was a fruitless effort.

“We sang together a lot,” B4 said wistfully, when he was done. “You should hear his voice, Little One. It’s very nice.”

Data simply nodded and forced a smile, but voiced a thought.

“Why not sing while I play?” He offered his hand, and B4 gladly handed the neck of the guitar to him.

“I want to sing the last song we played together.”

“Alright.” Data set to repairing the busted string and retuning the guitar. “Do you know what the song is called?”

“And I feel that time’s a wasted go…”

Lal came home, speaking loudly at first, before Lore–leaning against the wall outside of the open door of B4′s room–put a hand to his lips and then waved her in.

She cut on her wireless slave receptor.

What’s going on?

She took up a space on the opposite side, out of sight, and listened to her father strum major chords perfectly and slowly, as her older uncle sang in a strong, steady voice that was altogether foreign and familiar to her.

Is Maddox here??

Shut up!

“Where you goin’ for tomorrow?”

Omg…

“Is it raining in your bedroom?”

Data stayed focused on B4 as he played. He was concentrating hard on each beat, following each strike of his fingers with a percussive strain on his vocal processors. He had heard this song many times before and was attempting to recreate it perfectly, using his friend’s voice.

Do you know this song??

“Got time to wait for tomorrow, to find it..”

It’s called Plush.

The song ended with B4 humming, and then there was a long period of silence.

He should have done it much earlier. It took hardly any time at all for Data to cut on his wireless receiver, and no time at all for B4 to respond to it.

With a neural link established, Data wordlessly stood up, placing the guitar aside, and sat next to his older brother. B4 looked at his hands before transmitting.

Data saw everything. All of the experiments, the interactions with other lab crews, the ups and downs he had with his incongruously developed emotional programming, the final night before the custody transfer.

He was wrong.

They were wrong.

Maddox was there the whole time; rubbing, soothing. Comforting. The final night was the only. They sang

Big Empty

and

Plush

together near the Tower Bridge. Maddox had leaned his head onto B4′s shoulder; they went home, and that’s where the images became stilted–a flash of gold skin here, a white arm there, a bronze nipple there, a patch of hair there, but the soft feeling of organic lips and the moisture of lubricating tears accompanying them the whole way.

B4 said nothing, but a single yellow tear fell from his left eye, in the same way it did the night before his transfer. His lip didn’t quiver, and he didn’t squint his eyes. It was strange.

Mimicking Maddox, Data reached out with his left index finger and lifted the tear away.

He touched me here.

Data reached into B4′s shirt and laid a palm flat against his brother’s chest.

He kissed me.

Data leaned in towards B4, minding to make every move identical to the memory.

B4 was taken aback at first, but pushed his lips against Data’s, shyly at first, and then furiously, each trying to match the record in its entirety.

Data leaned him back onto his smeared pillow and continued his open mouthed delve into his brother’s mouth.

Lal stifled a giggle as Lore–quietly as possible–reached around into the room to touch the control panel. He moved his arm just in time for it to close.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, offering his niece his arm.

yeah there was kinda supposed to be more, including a bar scene with Geordi and the others and a reunion or some shit but i’m like “goddamn that’s enough already” XD

[elitaxne]

                                                     ❛ EYES FORWARD ❜

♔. }

      Cool cerulean hues flicker up from her data pad at the gently fleeting contact made to her pede. Immediate thoughts assume it to be Kaal, who had been playing with his own toys for a good portion of the afternoon, but a quick glance to her side instead found his slumbering frame perfectly content in the sunlight, unfazed completely by the world around him. An incredible guard dog truly, recharging on the job…

An amused vent quietly escaped past parted lip components, and with a shake of her helm her gaze wandered from the resting pup to the colourful ball just ahead, then to the awaiting group of younglings watching her intently. There came a long pause from both ends at the acknowledgement, and for a moment she wondered when they had arrived. She had been here for near hours and hadn’t noticed the cluster until now... then again, her thoughts had been focused on reviewing policies, audials long since tuning out the white noise of a bustling city past the courtyard’s walls. Hm.

The timidness displayed in their half hidden frames, peeking out from behind the largest of the bunch elicited a small tugging in her spark, and the softest smile curving over her features. All she could do was remain still, quietly watching them just as they watched her; each recognizing the other’s presence yet neither quite wanting to make the first move forwards, to bridge that connection.

There had been a time when just the sight of a youngling would send her into a spiralling depressive state, violent and agonizing, but now... there remained only peace, and a subtle fondness, even a WANTING DESIRE to be closer. To test those waters again and wade in the calmed waves like she had longed to do that long while ago. She had made her troubling joruney, stumbling and fighting all the while, and now having reached the end --- a new light, and a new chapter could be felt.

As though she had been trapped in a dark tunnel, now stepping into the white rays light for the first time, a warmth and adoration came over her, and the partial smile now spread to a brighter one; rivalling that of the sun, she were sure of it.

It had taken months to feel this ease, to allow herself time to heal and grow stronger in the process, and now... those same stirrings, the stirrings that had felt so alien and distant had slowly crept back into her consciousness, filling her spark with the yearning and craving once more. Every night she had lay awake int he darkness wondering if that door could be opened again after having been locked for so long, and in the pit of her spark still harboured UNCERTAINTY; a fear of the unknown, and what if’s.

Such had always been her largest vice, a constant pursuit to know all she could and leave nothing to chance, to have the answers, and deal in absolutes... but life did not operate according to those plans. Life was unpredictable, life was impulsive, life was constantly changing --- that too was something she had started to make peace with, but that road hadn’t yet met its end, and a part of her knew that perhaps it never would.

Elita set aside the data pad, briefly stirring the houndling from his deep dreamlike state for only a few seconds, his helm canting up to watch her then lazily returning to bliss. And as she carefully rose from the bench and knelt to the ball the younglings whispered and gasped amongst themselves, none of them daring to make a move closer.

They knew who she was, they had heard stories from their guardians and seen her in the courtyard before, seen her on their console’s and in pictures. In hushed whispers behind closed doors they had heard of the tales, of the news that had plagued Cybertron and stemmed from the femme, yet they couldn’t understand --- a subject beyond their comprehension that spoke of great loss, an insurmountable pain unimaginable to such a pure and new life.

They had been warned not to bother her, not to go near her, not to disturb her... and yet they had done just that. They had disobeyed despite their best intentions, and now they waited with bated breath, tiny frames trembling as the torturous seconds ticked away --- hoping, praying the stories and half-muted words overhead from their Sire’s and Carrier’s would never come to fruition.

But... what would she do in turn? The femme who had fought alongside the great Optimus Prime, the femme who was known for ruthlessness, the femme who could be so cold but warm at the same time, the femme who everyone knew by name and face, yet like an ocean everything beneath the surface remained a MYSTERY. The walking enigma, as terrifying as she was beautiful, like that of a cataclysmic storm, in her presence one could only watch in awe of the greatest contradiction that ever existed.

Slender alabaster digits curled around the ball which now appeared almost comically small so close to her large frame. The gentleness of her hold showed no aggression, and she held it out to them slowly, optics glancing over their features with a soft, trusting expression, voice so smooth it nearly sounded like a lullaby.

❝ Is this yours? ❞ she asked with a hum, addressing the youngling standing at the head of the group ( volunteered by their peers to be the spokesman no doubt ). Her helm tilted to the side curiously, venting in quiet amusement as the bitlet nodded sheepishly. Elita smiled again, rolling the ball over to them who quickly picked it up, clutching it close to his tiny chassis.

❝ Th-Thank you, Ma’am...❞ the little mechling peeped, fascia heating to a flushed rose tinge. The other three or so bitlets giggled shyly, whispering amongst themselves; what exactly they were discussing out of audial range and unknown to her, though she had a few guesses...

From behind a sudden half-hearted squeak sounded, and all optics turned back to the pup slowly waking from recharge. Elita had left his side and taken a portion of the warmth with her, and now having seen her with tinier mecha... well, that was an opportunity for more attention he couldn’t pass up. The tiny fluffy tail wagged madly as he sat up, wriggling on the edge of the bench yet not quite sure if he could stick the landing or not, so simply hovered eagerly.

Cerulean hues peeked back to catch the collective gazes of the younglings, watching the pup with bright smiles and a flurry of giggles ( to which he responded with another squeak and panting vents ).

❝ Would you like to pet him? He loves making new friends... ❞ Elita hummed, playing off a hunch and knowing even before they responded what the answer would be.

Tiny helms bobbed up and down tentatively making their way to the bench, and Elita eased back, snatching the excited pup from the bench and setting him on the ground, the connected lead held in a careful servo. Light pedefalls drew the handful of younglings closer still until they gathered around her with wide grins, optics unwavering from the houndling. Her larger servo rubbed and patted at Kaal’s helm and behind floppy audial coverings, demonstrating wordlessly how best to approach the new venture.

❝ Gentle--- ❞ she commanded softly, to which he followed perfectly; calming himself enough to sit relatively still and accept the much smaller servos that travelled from his helm and along his back, exploring the fuzzy surface of the equally young creature. And as the bitlet’s each patted and rubbed his frame, his tail swept madly behind him, helm leaning further into the touches and quiet happy squeaks rumbling from the forming vocoder.

Laughter and squeals from the younglings met her audials, and all she could hear was sweet music, the smile on her faceplates growing more and more as she watched the interactions.

❝ What’s his name? ❞ a femmeling chirped, then giggled as she received a lick from the pup.

❝ Kaal, ❞ Elita replied, loosening her hold on the lead so it fell to the side.

❝ Is he... is he still a youngling? ❞ Another asked, nuzzling their helm to the side of the pup’s, who returned the affection in kind.

❝ Yes... he isn’t very old at all --- are you, Kaal? ❞ she hummed again, and Kaal squeaked. Yes, he was still very little, but he had started growing! The pup wriggled again licking awaiting fascia excitedly --- yet no less GENTLY, as he had been commanded --- and garnering more giggles and squeals.

❝ Ahhh !! He got me all sticky !! ❞ the femmeling giggled, wiping at smooth faceplating now stained with puppy kisses. The other bitlets giggled, taking turns upon receiving kisses and petting floppy audials.

❝ Here, would you like a rag instead? ❞ Elita offered, holding out a clean swatch for the femmeling, who nodded thankfully as she took the rag, and wiped away the slobber. Soon, the rest each asked for the rag as well, and they took turns passing it around between licks from the pup and excitable laughter. Some even confided in her that they wanted a houndling too, but their Sire or Carrier said no. Elita sympathized greatly, assuring they could come play with Kaal whenever they were in the courtyard... with their guardian’s permission, of course.

                                                          Speaking of which---

❝ By the All-Spark, WHAT did I say about bothering the Councillor? ❞ a sudden voice called over, followed by hurried pede-falls from the courtyard’s entrance. The bitlets immediately scampered away from the houndling, but only went so far, still wanting to pet the soft fur and scratch floppy audials. ❝ Ma’am, I am... I am so, so sorry. Please, forgive them... they know they’re not suppose to--- ❞

❝ There is no need to apologize. Really, I should be the one to extend the sentiment... I asked if they had wanted to meet him, ❞ Elita started, still on her knees with a disappointed houndling seated in her lap.

A slender servo came to massage his helm, sating the otherwise mild sadness, to which he enjoyed greatly. But, it only lasted so long before she slowly rose, now TOWERING over the other mecha ( as was normally the case ) with Kaal obediently waiting at the side of her pede’s, though his focus remained on the younglings, who in turned were still staring back.

The other mecha vented in obvious relief. Thank the Primes, his progeny hadn’t been the ones to instigate the event, ❝ I.... Thank you, Ma’am... You --- You are too kind, truly, ❞ Optics flicked over to the group, helm nodding in the direction from which he had appeared.

❝ It’s time for Energon, little lights. How about we leave the nice Councillor to her afternoon now...? ❞ he coaxed, and begrudgingly the younglings complied ( though not without a few grumbles and ‘aww’s’ ).

Tiny servos waved good bye to Elita, and even called back farewell’s to Kaal with the promise to see him later. Elita nodded her helm, giving a small wave of her own as the tiny frames scurried to the exit with their ball in hand, giggling and laughing until they were out of range.

❝ I --- uh --- thank you again.... Ma’am, ❞ the mecha smiled, nodding their helm as a customary servo held out towards her ( though however hesitantly --- was he allowed to even touch her? He wasn’t sure. ) Not to mention, he and his family had intruded on her afternoon enough as is, no sense keeping her any longer. She was a busy femme after all...

❝ Elita, please--- And it was my pleasure, they each made for lovely company, ❞ she replied, taking his servo and giving it a forceful shake, to which he reciprocated. She really was as strong as she had been said to be... really, it was no surprise though given who she had mated with... but that was a thought he wouldn’t DARE share out loud, it would be saved for his own partner.

❝ Ma---- Elita, then, of course. Thank you, H-Have a good evening... ❞ he chuckled, releasing her servo and nodding in dismissal, taking a few more steps back as optics darted from the Councillor to the pup and back; not quite sure where to look, or if it were appropriate to GAWK.

❝ You as well, ❞ she responded courteously, a small nod of her helm granting silent approval for his leave. Hurried pede falls followed in the direction of his kin undoubtedly waiting at the lifts with the promise of sweets.

Once alone Elita sighed, seating herself again on the bench and dropped the lead for Kaal to join her, within seconds he had bounded up and nestled back in his napping spot.

❝ Lovely company... ❞ she quietly repeated to herself, optics glancing back over to the entrance in hopes they’d return, yet found only the empty threshold. Denta bit at her lower lip component at the familiar pang culminating within the depths of her spark. She had nearly forgotten how small younglings could be... how sweet their laughter sounded, how tiny their servos were, and how bright their optics cold shine...

As if on command Kaal whimpered, nudging her closest servo with his snout, still wet from kisses. Cerulean hues fell to the pup, servo lifting to allow him passage to her lap, and he in kind curled on top of it, nestled taut to her fuchsia plating, large optics peering back up at her expectantly. There was something on her mind, something indistinguishable floating and clouding her EM Field... but it wasn’t out of sadness, he had come to determine that feeling all too well from her, no it was something quite the opposite... something HOPEFUL, maybe...

❝ What do you think, Kaal...? Have room in your spark for one more? ❞ she finally asked, meeting the houndling’s gaze with a longing smile as servos again rubbed behind floppy audial coverings. Kaal squeaked, leaning into the touch and licking at her digits. Yes, definitely!

Elita chuckled lightly, continuing her attentions to the tiny helm as the pup slowly eased back into recharge.

                                                           ❝ Me too. ❞

[facetiousfanboy]

A Day at the Races

Here’s a little story following my fanwalker Anibeth. It’s just a small excerpt from her life that may lead to other things I’m working on. Please give me feedback if you would like to see more. Thank you if you do read it.

Ghirapur was always crowded. It was of course a huge city filled with all manner of peoples, vedalkens wandered about discussing their newest projects or speaking of the flaws of other works, dwarves tinkered with small inventions as they walked, elves weaved through the crowds on their way to some important destination, and even a few aetherborn moved quickly through the crowds so as not to waste any time in the short lives the often had, mixed in among all these were many humans living as were all the people of Kaladesh. This was a common everyday sight in this city, people moving about, busy, some hurried, others patient, and everything in its place. Anibeth knew this pattern well, she often watched it from her apartment window on lazy evenings while working on her newest creations, but today she had ventured out for one simple reason. She had a job. Certainly there were other ways to make money, but Anibeth didn't much care for them, and besides this was more interesting, it certainly paid more, and her rent was due in three days. She moved through the crowd with her head down and her hood up, knowing it would hide her canine muzzle and long ears. She didn't like having to hide her face but it was necessary on this plane, otherwise she would stick out like a hungry dragon in a stable. It was for that reason that she also wore gloves and large boots, though frankly she would have preferred to go without them. She glanced about, watching the various peoples and taking in the air of those around her. She was never much for crowds but she had taught herself long ago to become used to them, a byproduct of city life. She used her natural agility to weave her way through the crowd, she was on a timeline, her job needed done before nightfall and the city was slowly slipping into evening with each progressing moment. She hastily moved and within the hour she had reached the race way. She would occasionally visit this place during her free time for fun and also to study the various vehicles in the races for when she received jobs like the one she had today. She moved around the entrance and went down through a side entrance intended for the use of staff. She had used this way many times and it was always empty. She quickly looked around to be certain nobody would see her before she went down the stairs and into a covered section. This was the storage where the various vehicles of the racers were kept until the race began. Anibeth had already seen people showing up outside to get their tickets when she had arrived, early comers trying to get the best seats, and she knew it would be a matter of time before the crews arrived and started wheeling the vehicles out. She had to work quickly. Anibeth moved quickly through the motionless machines, she only had one target, a new vehicle that was being used by what had been described to her as a “brash human”. The vehicle was said to be able to drive itself if the pilot knew how to use it but she didn't care about that, all she cared about was what she would be doing to it. She found it easily, it was painted gold to make it stand out so she couldn't miss it. She moved over and quickly studied it, the design was similar to countless other vehicles she had seen but it seemed better balanced than some and was sleeker in its design. Anibeth didn't have time to admire it right now. She quickly looked for her true target, the fuel tank. It was located on the back, which was common for vehicles, aether leaks could be dangerous and attract swarms of gremlins if they bled long enough. The back was usually the part that would be the least damaged in a crash and so I made the best position for the fuel tank as a result. Anibeth found the cap and quickly unscrewed it. She looked in to see the tank was filled and smiled. She then reached into a pouch hanging from her side and fed just a little magic into the sand she had there. She moved her hand from the pouch and the sand followed, flowing up from the pouch and then directly into the tank. She continued for a few moments, long enough for the correct amount of sand to be gathered into the fuel tank. She then channeled a little mana into the sand that was now in the tank and sealed it again. She quickly looked around to make sure no one had come in and then moved back out the way she had come. She would need to be certain it worked so she quickly bought a ticket and went into the stands. She sat near the exit, knowing she wouldn't be there long. It took another hour for the stands to be filled with crowds of people who were all talking and eating. They had shown up to support their favorite racers, to bet, or simply to enjoy the evening. The vehicles started coming out of the pits as the stands filled up. The vehicles were lined up along the starting line and it was no more than a few moments before the pilots came out and stood alongside their vehicles. An announcer came out and stood on a pedestal with a voice enhancer in one hand. The announcer welcomed the people to the races and introduced each pilot as well as the names of the vehicles they were driving and was greeted with cheers from the fans of each racer as they were announced. The announcer then explained the rules of the race and told the racers to get in their vehicles and start their engines. Each pilot, some human, some dwarven, and one or two aetherborn, climbed into their vehicles and started them up, the motors were marginally loud and that seemed to stir the crowd up as many of them stood and cheered in response. Anibeth remained seated and kept her eyes on the vehicle she had sabotaged, waiting for the correct moment. The announcer came back out and quickly asked the pilots if they were ready. The pilots each gave a thumbs up in response and then the announcer started counting down from ten. Some people in the crowd joined in, more seemed to join in as the numbers got smaller, growing louder as well. Tension built then finally the last number was said and the announcer shouted the word go. The pilots sped down the track, their vehicles humming as they moved. The announcer called out the positions of the drivers and any changes as they moved. Anibeth knew it was time. She closed her eyes and drew in just a little mana then sent it off down into the sand she had placed in the fuel tank of the vehicle which had by now spread along the fuel lines and probably into the engine as well. Had she simply left the sand by itself she knew it would have worn down the engine over time but her client needed a more urgent solution. As she activated the spell the sand within the vehicle gathered into small collections, immediately solidifying into glass and causing blockages in the pipes, tearing up the engine, and ruining the functions of the vehicle. The vehicle sputtered and clunked as this happened, the pilot lost control and the vehicle crashed into one of the barriers along the edge of the raceway. The crowd gasped and began talking about what had happened. The rest of the pilots continued racing and a cleanup crew quickly moved to remove the damaged vehicle as the pilot was pulled out of the wreck. Anibeth stood and left, walking through the exit and back out to the streets. It would take months to get all the correct parts, bang out all the dents, and figure out exactly what had happened to the vehicle, and in that time her client would make a great profit off of the races. Now she simply had to meet her client and collect the fee for her work. As she walked on she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She hesitantly lifted one of her ears under the hood to better hear and then slowly turned her head to look back. There was a large fellow behind her dressed in a consulate uniform who was looking right at her and following her. She quickly turned back. How could they have pinned her? She had been careful, made sure there was nobody watching her, nobody, at least nobody on the ground. She had forgotten to check the skies for any spying thopters or the walls for any wayward servos. She was in trouble. She quickened her pace just a bit and thought of what routes she could take to get away from this man. She nearly had a fully formed plan when she suddenly picked up the scent of a Vedalken male standing in front of her with two automatons on either side of him. She stopped about ten paces from him and heard the man behind her stop as well. She looked back and forth between the two and scowled under her hood. She had been stupid and made a big mistake. The vedalken looked her over with studying eyes as he stood before the automatons with his hands behind his back. "Curious, when we received the report of a strange person entering the raceway pits it seemed like nothing. That is until we also received the report about the vehicle that crashed. Such actions do not happen often under the consulates watchful eyes. Still I suppose sabotage is not uncommon these days." "You're mistaken, I am simply a patron at the races. I placed a bet upon that man who crashed and was disappointed when he crashed. My whole night has been ruined. I was simply on my way home." Anibeth did her best to make her voice sound upset but she had never been a very convincing actor. She hesitantly touched the pouch at her side, trying to determine how much sand she had left after her actions from earlier. She had used about half the bag on the vehicle she had sabotaged, so there should be enough for now. She just hoped the consulate hadn't changed how they constructed their automatons. The vedalken shook his head. "You're not a good liar. Surrender yourself and we will ensure you receive a fair trial. Refuse and we will be required to take action." He nodded to the man behind her who pulled out a pair of restraints. "Your answer?" Anibeth thought of a strategy and then nodded. "Alright… I've decided not to go with you." She lifted her hand and the remaining sand in her pouch flowed out like liquid and surrounded her hands in two small clouds. The vedalken gasped and shouted at the man to grab her. At the same time the automatons stepped forward and moved to restrain her. Anibeth swiped her left hand forward and a spray of sand flew ahead of her and into the chests of the automatons who were rapidly approaching her. Anibeth used her magic to move the sand through the automatons until it reached her true target, their aether hearts. She tightened her grip and the sand surrounding the hearts solidified together, crushing them simultaneously. The automatons made a groaning sound and sputtered a bit before falling forward onto the ground as the vedalken watched them in confusion. Anibeth barely had time to recover before the man behind her grabbed her right wrist and pulled her towards him, causing her hood to fall back and her ears to spring up, the jingling of her many earrings became audible in the alley as her ears were freed. The man smelled of oil and gears, with some kind of fruity perfume trying to cover it up. As he saw Anibeth's face his expression changed from one of anger to one of confusion. That was all the opportunity Anibeth needed. She gathered some of her remaining sand in her left hand and focused, changing it into the shape of a club before making it turn to glass. She swung it around, bringing it to bear upon the temple of the man. The man reeled and released her, colliding into the wall before collapsing into an unconscious pile on the ground. Anibeth took a deep breath and then rounded on the vedalken, her eyes giving off an almost opalescent glow in the dim lighting. The vedalken stood there with his mouth hanging open as he looked at her in a mixture of fear and surprise. "D-demon!" He was mistaking her for a demon, probably based off of her appearance. He reached into his robes and produced a knife before charging her, moving with a swiftness she would not have expected from him. Anibeth easily avoided the swipe which had been aimed for her head and brought the club down onto his wrist with a sharp crack, causing him to yelp in pain and drop the blade. She had just broken his wrist. He looked up at her in a mixture of horror and fascination. "A-are you going to kill me?" Anibeth frowned. "Not today..." She leaned closer. "But I want you to think hard about what you saw tonight, about the strange woman who bested you despite your human and robotic companions, who scared you half to death, and who spared your life." She grinned at him. "If I were you I wouldn't try looking for me. My face is just a mask, some extra disguise to keep my identity safe so you won’t find me anyways.” She stood up straight and tightened her grip on the club in her hands. “File your reports and stay safe in your office. Goodbye." She hit him across the temple and he fell down with a groan and lay still. She turned the club she had made back into sand and returned it to her pouch. She quickly put her hood up then looked up at the sky and sighed. Her client was not a patient person and she was already late. She moved along and finally found her way to the Prakhata Club. She moved to one of the tables in the back where her client was waiting. She sat and looked across the table at him. "The job's done. It was a fantastic crash, too bad you didn't see it." The small man, a dwarf with some boring name looked up at her. "Good." He pulled out a pouch and slid it across the table. "What took you so long?" He had a look of annoyance on his face. "I ran into a new friend." She picked up the pouch and held it in her palm, moving it just a bit to measure the weight just as she had been taught to do when she was very young. It was the agreed upon amount. She attached it to her belt. "Pleasure doing business with you." The dwarf nodded. "Yes. Tell me, if I should need to contact you again how might I reach you?" She became somewhat curious at that. "Are there other rivals you need to stop?" She was amused. "But it doesn't matter, as long as you keep paying." She looked at him from under her hood. "You can find me through the same channels as you did before." She never worked directly with clients unless they went through the proper channels first, she used to, until one client tried to cut off one of her ears, so now she was more cautious. She stood and started to leave before the dwarf grabbed her wrist, causing her to stop and look back at him. She readied herself if she had to do something violent. "It's said you never show your face. Why is that?" Ah the normal question then. She had heard that one too many times and it was starting to get on her nerves whenever somebody asked her nowadays. She pulled her hand free with a single sharp movement. "Only my friends know that. You are not my friend." She rubbed her wrist. He had a strong grip, or perhaps it was that this was the second time that wrist had been grabbed tonight. "Don't pry too deep, you might not like what you find." She turned and left. She didn't care for such brash men. She kept rubbing her wrist as she left the club, nodding to the bouncer who she was friends with. The bouncer nodded back. She sighed and started thinking about her home as she walked. How long had it been now? Five months? A year? She had become so overcome by her life on Kaladesh that she had all but forgotten about the plane she came from, the plane of Tarkir. She shuddered as she thought of the night she had left, thinking of the fire, the roars. She shook her head to try and shake away the thoughts. When she looked up she realized that she had reached her apartment complex. She quickly walked in and went up to her apartment on the third floor and sighed as she pulled off the cloak and gloves then kicked off the boots. The outfit always got hot if she was too active in it, having fur didn't help either. She stretched a bit before sitting down at her work desk and sighing as she looked out of the window in front of her. From the window she could observe the street and many of the buildings around her, it was useful from a military standpoint and peaceful for when she needed to relax. The night had creeped in over Kaladesh but the city was still fairly active. The aether was flowing through the tubes suspended between buildings providing an almost eerie glow in the night that was somehow peaceful. There could be music heard in the distance, probably some aetherborn’s penultimate party. Thopters could be seen reflecting light as they passed over the city on their way to deliver letters. All was right tonight. She smiled as she looked out at the sight that was now a part of her life. This was truly a beautiful plane, she was often reminded of why she had chosen to make it her home. She looked down at the collection of sands she had stored inside various cases on the desk. She reached out and grabbed one in particular filled with volcanic sand from Valakut on the plane of Zendikar. She thought of Zendikar with its vast roving landscapes and strange topography. She had heard tales of other planeswalkers visiting there before, and of great gods who watched over the plane, though she knew better than to believe in gods or lords as they were never what they appeared to be. She opened the case and poured some of the contents out onto the desk. She put the case back and then held her hands over the sand and focused to create just a little of her magic which she pushed down into the sand. She could feel it, its smooth texture, the memories of it, what it had been, what it had witnessed, who had trod upon it. She thought of what the sand wanted to be then moved her fingers as if pulling the strings on a puppet and the sand followed, moving in a swirling pattern and lifting up into a pillar. The sand formed into a spiral and formed a rounded top. She looked at it and hummed in thought. She had seen elves shape aether before and it was quite impressive. She decided to try something. She made the sand reform into more of a flowing shape, like aether often looked when it was moving through the pipelines. She kept the image in mind as she moved the sand and made it resemble a liquid rising from the water. She smiled, satisfied with the shape, and then changed the sand to glass. She carefully lifted the small statue and set it on the shelf beside her desk where she kept most of her work. She had a number of other statues made from the sand of different worlds and all were formed into different shapes, some curving, others rounded, some just straight lines. She leaned her head on her hand and sighed as she looked at the various figures. Perhaps she should revisit Zendikar? It had been a while since she had been there and she did quite like the volcanic sand, it was more smooth and stronger than some of the sand she used and she often found it made for a more durable weapon, not to mention the artistic abilities it possessed. She lifted the pouch of money from her belt and opened it, spreading the money out over the desk and looking at it. She quickly counted it before nodding to herself as she reached a decision. After she had paid her rent and sold a few of her statues she would depart and spend some time on Zendikar, it had been too long since she had visited there and she could do with a little adventure. She scooped up the money back into the pouch and then put it into a small secure chest she kept under her bed. She stripped down to her undershirt and pants and laid down on the bed, sighing contently as she flicked her ears a few times and listened closely to the soft sounds of the night. There was a little music playing from the apartment next to her, the sound of a thopter flitting through the air outside, a scuttling sound in a nearby alley, and the occasional passing of a person on the street below. She relaxed and closed her eyes, slowly slipping into sleep, enjoying the soft bed and cool night air. She began to dream of her life, of travelling from one world to the next, of the thousands of worlds with trillions of grains of sand, each telling her a story that was their own, she dreamt of her friends on the many planes she visited, and of her adventures. She was Anibeth, the Ainok planeswalker, and she was happy.

[starlight-the-seeker]

A night in Iacon

The stars are especially bright tonight.

I couldn’t help but notice shapes forming and disappearing in their features. Leaning against the balcony, energon clasped between clawed servos as my processor spiraled down foggy roads to nowhere. The streets were unusually quiet tonight, the air suspiciously clear. Rare, calm nights like this were meant to be enjoyed...

I sighed, downing the rest of what was left of the energon I was holding. The flavor was ok, despite having bought it on a budget. That spurred a whole new train of unnecessary thoughts as I began pointlessly worrying about how I was going to make ends meet the coming month. “Living cozily” some might call it. What with being crammed into a one-mech apartment with just enough room to manage. Still, it was better than what some others could afford, at least.

I glanced over the balcony railing, down into the streets below. City lights glimmering and fading away against the blue hues of late-night neons. There was a light breeze, warm and comfortable. Not quite strong enough for flying, though.

I felt a bump against my arm, spurring a high-pitched whirr from whatever had tapped me. Mort, the drone companion I’d have since as long as I could remember, gave me a friendly chirp. He was sorta like a pet, in a way. I poked him lightly in one of his large fins. The one with my signature on it. I’d spent so many years saving up just to get him. Totally worth it though...

[AC/DC’s Highway to Hell]

I answered the phone.

“Starlight.”

Oh scrap.

“Skywarp, hey. What’s going on? You never call me.”

“What do you think? Take a wild guess.”

“Is it Starscream?”

I could hear what sounded like clamoring and a familiar voice complaining loudly about something. A femme’s voice scolded him before he grabbed the phone.

“Starlight please tell Windblade that scraplets don’t qualify as a member of Cybertron’s ecosystem before she gets a null ray to the face.”

Yep, another petty argument. I let out a sigh, recalling millions of years of studying alien ecosystems, as well as Cybertron’s own.

“No, they’re classified as an invasive parasitic hive mind.”

I could hear cackling and I-told-you-so’s on the other end, and a defeated groan from Windblade.

“Yo Stars, could you pass me over to Windblade, I need to ask her somethin’.”

“What is it?” I could hear the immediate perk of curiosity in the Seeker’s voice.

“Oh, I just need to ask her about the academy of science’s current developments in planetary exploration and analysis.” Geez that was a mouthful.

“Struggling to get a job, hmm?” And now he was making fun of me. Again.

“Just give Windblade the phone.”

“You should just accept the job offer that’s been handed to you, you know. Good pay, better living space, more time in the glorious presence of your grand leader.”

“Watch the ego Starscream or you may just trip on it.”

That earned a dignified huff from the other end.

“Hey, Starlight! Something wrong?” Windblade’s voice filled the silence on the balcony.

“Yeah. Any word from the academy?” I’d been waiting to hear back from the academy for over three months, waiting for them to give me a new job. I’d heard nothing in all that time, no new developments, no new jobs.

At this rate I wasn’t going to have enough shanix to last the next two weeks. I was running out of time.

“No, I haven’t sorry.”

Shit.

“Can you put Starscream back on?”

A pause, and then, “What is it?”

“I’ll accept your offer on one condition. Mort has to be allowed into the new space. I’m not selling him.”

“Fine, fine, you can keep him.” 

“Wow, a whole month of bickering about the drone and our great and powerful leader actually yields.” Skywarp said, earning an irritated shout from His Majesty.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

I hung up, looking around the messy apartment. This could either end really badly, or really well. Working for Starscream was, well, unpredictable. Much like the Seeker himself. I half-expected to get tossed into a warzone in the middle of a report on Martashian algae. Either way, things were going to look a lot different for the foreseeable future.

I was both hyped and terrified.

(To be continued...)

[elitaxne]

┊  ❛ CLOSURE ❜

♔. }

      ❝ Mama look, LOOK ! Can you see them? --- Can you see them, Mama ?! ❞ the little voice chirped excitedly, sprinting ahead of her towards a ridge.

Despite having longer strides the youngling always seemed JUST out of Elita’s reach, periwinkle plating glimmering beneath silver stars, glowing brighter than any of them ever could even in the shadows. Cerulean hues squinted, following close behind the femmeling with rising apprehension --- she had been here before, it looked familiar enough... but in the darkness things had a habit of never quite appearing as they ought to.

                                             An edge of a city, if she had to guess...

❝ See what, my light? ❞ she called over, finally coming to the crest of the ridge with a quiet vent. The little femme simply bounced in place, waiting for Elita to catch up with a wide grin, tiny digit pointing out to the expanse below expectantly.

❝ Can you see them...? ❞ the youngling asked again, helm dipping back as far as possible so bright cyan optics could stare up at the fuchsia femme. Tiny, delicate digits wove between her slender ones, taking the much larger servo in her own; they fit together so perfectly, and Elita could instantly feel the warmth from the femmeling’s touch --- spreading over her as though she stood in the presence of the morning sun.

                                                    She never wanted to let go.

An ever-present smile etched itself upon her lips, the same wide smile that always came over her features when they were together. Cerulean remained on large cyan hues for but a moment more, smiling back down to the femmeling before shifting her gaze to the opening below. And she saw it: the dancing colours at the mouth of the Well, swirling in the blackened sky and casting long saturated tendrils into the shadows, banishing them back. Such darkness had no place here, not now.

❝ Sweetspark--- ❞ Elita protested, only to fall upon deafened audials, the femmeling tugging her forwards again more forcefully.

Slender digits curled instinctively tighter around the youngling’s who had threatened to let go, stepping over the ridge and down the inclined plane. Elita hesitated, digging her pedes into the ground yet strangely as if by an invisible force she moved forwards, finding herself being led closer to the the lights --- the sparks --- and the overflowing Well.

❝ It’s okay, Mama, ❞ the femmeling hummed, glancing back up to her with soft, glowing optics, ❝ It’s okay... ❞ Another moment passed before cyan hues retuned to the dancing lights, each bearing a different colour and culminating in an eternal myriad of shades, and vibrancy.

Every halting pedefall drew the pair closer and closer, and Elita felt a certain pang in the pit of her spark. Something didn’t feel right... but she couldn’t let go of the youngling’s servo, she would NEVER let go of her. So forwards she travelled, at the mercy to the femmeling --- HER femmeling --- never leaving her side if even for a second. And within mere moments it seemed, they had reached the mouth of the Well, a warm wind whistling from the opening and ground thrumming beneath their pedes; the very spark pulse of Primus himself...

Denta bit at her lower lip component, tugging the malleable metal as she had done countless times before, glancing back down to the femmeling enraptured with the sight. The effervescent EM Field could be felt from miles around, stronger than ever... Elita took a step back from the edge, pulling gently at the much smaller servo yet the youngling didn’t budge; frozen in place.

❝ Saiph.. we have to go now... ❞ Elita coaxed softly, spark pulsating heavier and heavier with every second that passed, ❝ ...Please, my light? ❞ Intuition had long since alerted her to the eerie edge suspended in the air, the subtle warning before an inevitable storm, and she had no intention of lingering for when the looming clouds arrived.

Periwinkle plating glowed in the encompassing colours, radiating a light that shone brighter than any other spark around them. Primus, she was so beautiful, so small, yet so lively and full of energy --- in her optics she could see a part of herself, and a part of Optimus as well; their perfect creation, standing before her with a voice sweeter than any candy, and a touch so soft it felt like silk.

                                    --- It all felt so real... perhaps it was...

Newly formed audials flickered at the sides of the infantile helm, and for a moment the glowing cyan hues darted in her carrier’s direction, only to slowly again be pulled back to the sparks dancing around them... making their way down the tunnel to the pool at the bottom... it looked so warm... so peaceful... she felt a tugging deep within her, a pulling and yearning she could no longer ignore---

❝ It’s time to go home, Sweetspark... ❞ Elita started again, feeling the siren-like call to the youngling on the other side of the bond. She swallowed back a nervous lump rising in her vocalizer, voice lowering to a barely audible whisper. ❝ We have to go home now... ❞

                                                  Please... come with me...

It took a long painful pause before the femmeling turned back, those bright cyan optics staring up at her and with a single look already said more than words ever could. Saiph shook her helm gently, taking a step closer as Elita knelt down to her, drastically lessening the space between them.

❝ I am home, Mama... ❞ she whispered, the youthful voice prickling Elita’s audials as her spark twisted and churned in its casing, yet never once did its sweetness ever falter. So calmed, so innocent and pure, it was unlike any voice she had ever heard before... and it only made Elita want to hang on just a while longer, though already sensed time was running out.

The femmeling stood in front of her, cyan searching glossy cerulean as the sparks one by one made their descent, the once so vibrant space slowly darkening. ❝ But you have to let me go... ❞ she whispered again as softly as before.

Elita shook her helm, servos rising to either side of her daughter’s fascia, running her thumbs along the smooth, perfect plating. ❝ No, ❞ she choked, ❝ No, I’m not leaving you... I promised you I--- ❞

Saiph reached up to rest tiny servos overtop her carrier’s. ❝ You kept your promise, Mama... ❞ she hummed, smiling up to her so earnestly Elita nearly burst into tears right on the spot. Elita stifled another small cry, vents hitching in a pained whine --- already she could feel the warmth beginning to ebb, and she grasped tighter still, greedily, desperately, arms scooping up the youngling and holding her taught to her chassis.

❝ Please--- ❞ she warbled against the small helm, rocking her back and forth slowly, keeping pace with the broken pulses of her spark. ❝ Please, just give me more time--- ❞

❝ We already had our time together, don’t you remember? ❞ Saiph whispered again, nuzzling closer into fuchsia plating. Her voice never once lost its softness, speaking words beyond her years --- words that could only be conveyed from the spark, and the spark alone; as pure as the pulses that fell in tandem with her carrier’s.

❝ I do... I remember it all... ❞ the femmeling continued, recalling each and every moment and as she voiced them, the accompanying images --- like snapshots --- filled the bond. ❝  I remember you singing to me to help me rest.... you had such a pretty voice, I could listen for hours... I remember how you’d hum when you had those treats you liked, I could feel your smile as if it were my own... and I remember the way you’d laugh with Papa --- he can be so silly --- it made me laugh too, you were always so funny, Mama... Don’t you remember? ❞

Elita nodded, smiling through her tears as they stung her optics and rolled down her cheekplates. She remembered. They had always been together, the three of them since the beginning --- but it would never be the same; both of them already knew. Another wavering vent rattled from her frame, arms clutching at the small femme nestled against her chassis, warm and soft just as she remembered her to be.

❝ I don’t want to lose you again, Saiph... I CAN’T lose you again... ❞ the words tumbled from her vocoder with a weight incomparable to anything else, each syllable laced with all the pain, all the grief she had carried for the past several months.

Saiph pulled from the hold if ever slightly, resting her helm in the crook of Elita’s, spindly arms slinking around her neck to hug what parts of her she could. The smile had vanished, making way for her own sadness --- her carrier and sire were not the only ones who had been looking forward to their meeting. A meeting that had been stolen from them all.

❝ You will never lose me, Mama. I’ll always be with you... in your memories... in your spark... I’ve always been there... I always will be... ❞ she whispered, her own hold tightened around black neck cabling, holding her carrier as close as her fragile body would allow.

❝ I know, ❞ Elita finally whispered back, frame shuddering again in the approaching shadows.

Cerulean hues fused together, another cry escaping past parted lip components as more of the warmth faded from her touch, the little frame growing colder and colder with every second that passed. Another pause, each feeling the emotions in their bond, a mixture of grief, of anger, of sadness, of hurt, but also... happiness. Optics slitted open, watching as the last few sparks disappeared over the edge of the Well, and the cold wind beckoned for Saiph to follow with a bitter whistle.

                                                      It was time to let go.

Denta bit at her tinted lower lip, digits trailing on the length of the tiny spinal column memorizing the curves and edges before slowly relinquishing her hold. Cerulean softened, wet and glassy from the streaming tears, and as they found beautiful, youthful faceplates now dotted with her own coolant tears, Elita thumbed over the surface gently to wipe them away.

❝ Will you love them as much as me? My brothers or sisters... will you tell them about me? Just so.... so I can be a part of them too...? So we can all... be a family still...? ❞ Saiph’s voice crackled, tiny frame rattling as her own quiet cry escaped. Elita pulled her close once more, rocking her youngling gently and running slender digits along her back, comforting her for what would be the final time.

❝ I promise, my light. I promise they will love you, and will know you, and we will ALL be together again one day... ❞ Elita vented again through her own static, more tears cascading down stained faceplating. She could feel the broken pulses ease, just as her own did, finding the same quiet rhythm they had shared those many months ago as though no time had passed at all. Saiph nodded, a wavering ‘okay’ slipping past quivering lips, and they formed into a brave smile.

Slender servos slunk from the back of fading periwinkle plating to her front, wiping the last of the tears from the femmeling’s fascia. She was so brave, so fearless, so warm and pure... so much like her and Optimus, just like Elita KNEW she would be. Cerulean stared back into dimming cyan, sharing the last few seconds they had and milking them for all they were worth before she leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the budding helm crest.

❝ Go, Sweetspark... it’s time... ❞ she hummed through the pain and the sorrow, a smile slowly warmed her features, and Saiph met it with that of her own. Relishing her carrier’s touch, the touch she had been waiting for so long to feel for just a moment more, before she took a step back, then another, until Elita’s digits were out of reach.

❝ I love you, Mama... ❞ the little femme vented, frame slowly allowing itself to be consumed by light, pedes swirling into bright magenta hues as they made their way up her legs, then her waist, but cyan never once left cerulean. Her carrier was so pretty, just as Saiph knew she would be --- Papa had told her many, many times...

❝ I love you too, my light. With all my spark... ❞ Elita answered, letting another tear roll down her fascia, yet her smile never once faltered. Always.

And all at once the fragile frame dissipated entirely into the magenta light, spinning rapidly and bursting until all that was left was her spark: bright, pure, warm, radiating unconditional love as she had done even before they had met, before she even knew fully who Elita was. The spark drew close again, circling Elita and nestling against her chassis for the final time, synchronizing their pulses before shooting forwards into the Well.

Elita leapt from her knees, leaning over the edge to watch as Saiph descended, yet the warmth didn’t leave her, and neither did the light. She could feel it cascade over her weary frame like morning sunlight in the waking moments of dawn, bright and beautiful. No matter how far away the magenta blur grew, she could feel her as strongly as ever in her spark, filling the vacancy that had long since taken residency until finally the spark crossed into the awaiting pool --- leaving nothing but white.

                                                          Pure, infinite white.

Cerulean hues slitted open as she instinctively pulled herself up, servos rising to wipe at wet fascia, as vents gave another quiet shudder. As before the invisible force compelled her, legs gently dangling over the side of the berth, glassy optics glancing back to assure her mate --- and their houndling, nestled at the end of the berth --- never stirred.

Pedes kissed the ground softly, carrying her to the door, then down the hall, then to the nursery, pausing only to tap the keypad and grant her entry. As it slid into place warm ambers hues of the morning sunlight streamed through the large window, and Elita stepped into the light, letting it come over her frame and warm her from the outside in.

Optics shuddered closed for a moment, relishing the sensation, still feeling the small presence nestled deep in her own spark --- quiet, but constant, she was there. And as her gaze focused slowly onto the slumbering city below, just as they had the morning of their loss, for the first time ever she felt only calmness, only serenity.

                                     They had both found their peace.