#precipine

[sixersigned]

@precipine SAID: 🤝  to  hold  my  muse's  hand.

The man stiffens, eyes wandering down to his great nephew in some kind of frozen awe. It's like the world's stopped, like all of his anxieties have eased—or at least, lessened. A feeling quite familiar with his muse, but a little different here. There's a warmth here, a human warmth that acknowledges his plight and isn't just another echo chamber. One that believes in him, and strengthens his belief in it, too. It's weird. Very weird. And then, Stanford finds himself, yet he doesn't rip his hand away like he's always had the instinct to do. He lets it sit, complacent with the silence.

Something's in the air, he knows it is. Had he let himself break a little too much, left it out for the world to see? He doesn't know... it's just a little easier knowing that someone has... faith in him? Can he call it that? That someone hears him...? Isn't it just the same? A pause, and he averts his eyes.

“ ...Y'know, you should see this place in the winter. Snow for miles. We wouldn't be sitting on this patio now, I'll tell you that, “ he states with a laugh, smiling meekly at his nephew. “ It's like sitting on an iceberg, and everything that comes with. Why, one time, I was bringing in F's suitcase, and-- “

He pauses, something catching in his throat. A familiar pain.

“ I fell. “ He stares for a moment. “ My back killed for weeks. The icicles are were pretty enough. “

He reaches for another two cans of Pitt cola, passing one to Dipper.

“ That was a long time ago. “

[pine-dexter]

70. for a cozy starter .

Ford was aware that he missed quite a bit during his time in the portal, and he was admittedly still catching up. But having the kids around helped with that exponentially! Both his niece and nephew were very good at informing him of different events and trends he hadn't been aware of (to hear it from Mabel, it sounds like he should be glad to have missed the fashion choices of the late 80's He'll take her word for it).

However, this is probably his favorite thing thus far. He settles down in the blanket pile Dipper had put together with his snack bowl and a Pitt Cola, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"You're saying they made how many movies?"

[starsandpigs]

@precipine / regency au starter call.

she looks exceptionally excited now. " can you believe that we got invited to one of the largest events of the season? oh my gosh, what should we wear? i can make it for us! " she knows that usually most girls of the area that would go to these events would turn their nose up on something handmade, but she really liked making their outfits.

" what do you say ? "

[dreamsofalife]

❝what kind of a weirdo plant is that?❞

"I found this growing out in the woods; apparently it's a Venus Eye Trap! According to your Uncle's journals, this baby only dines on Floating Eyeballs...or, any eyes that stray close enough to its maw. I guess that finally explains what that jar was doing in the Shack for so long."

[dppyfresh]

@precipine / starter call.

" you are so dead to me if you tell mabel i accidentally dropped her favorite snowglobe. " he feels bad as he was just trying to move something in the hallway and had knocked over the glass bulb.

[shootiing-starr]

Get Inspired!

@precipine requested a starter!

Friday evenings were meant to be the second best part of the week, right behind the entirety of Saturday. Everyone was catching their metaphorical breaths after another week of rigorous study, homework, and staying up to date with their peers at school. Unwinding, relaxing, unburdened.

Everyone, except for Mabel Pines.

Weekend homework was never fun. Your options were to either be a huge nerd and do it the day you got it or do what everyone else did and put it off until Sunday night. Mabel usually did just that, but when her assignment was for Advanced Ceramics she suddenly found a new desire to hit the ground running with her homework.

It had been a few hours now, however, and no progress was being made. A mess of half baked sketches and an army of eraser shavings surround the teen's spot at the coffee table, which she repeatedly banged her forehead against in frustration.

"Blargh! This is impossible!" Mabel lamented. "I love this class but what the heck is this prompt!? 'Something that belongs but doesn't at the same time?' What does that even mean!?"

With one final limp smack, she laid her head back down amid her assignment, defeated. Three final sketches would never get done by Monday afternoon's class at the rate she was going.

[starsandpigs]

their latest stint made them hop a few different dimensions. being fugitives had taken a toll on mabel. she's exhausted, but they'd been portal hopping a few times, and she knew grunkle ford would never lead her astray. her actual grunkle ford. that was still such a trip. she had her backpack slung over her shoulder when she looked at the portal that appeared in front of them. they were being chased by something, and she wasn't necessarily sure what it was-- nor did she want to find out. so many universes. there was never a moment where mabel second guessed anything- as ford had taught her that second guessing can cause bad things to happen.

keep on the go. they'd find their way back to everyone eventually. " grunkle ford, keep up ! " is all she shouts back towards him, reaching behind herself so that ford can maybe even hold her hand if he wanted to, so that she didn't lose him. the multiverse had genuinely scared her into thinking that they could be separated at any time. which wasn't untrue. hurry! hurry! hurry!

they needed to be quick about these sort of things. " this way, " she pivots, hearing the creature chasing them hot on their tail before noticing a portal open up. it's not similar to ones they'd adventured through before. so she takes a chance on it, gripping ford's hand even harder to make sure as they pass through it that they don't lose each other.

she can't lose her only family left. she had to return grunkle ford back to grunkle stan and dipper! that was all that mattered.

entering the room, she immediately is beyond confused when this seems like the shack. but then this guy falls to his knees and mabel realizes she doesn't even know who this is. maybe they were in another timeline that ford would recognize?

then it's talking to her. the man she doesn't know is talking to her. she wants to crack a joke, but then she sees dipper's birthmark on this man's forehead and she suddenly feels very small. " i-- grunkle ford? " she asks, looking up towards her great uncle, moving to hide behind him, attaching herself almost to his leg needing protection.

was this guy saying that he was dipper? she didn't believe it. " i'm sorry---- i think you have the wrong me. "

@slqhv

The rift thrums to life, reality ripped open and bleeding technicolor as it falls into itself. He clutches the journal to his chest, bracing himself in spite of all their hard work and experimentation that told him it was fine, it was safe. Stan never would’ve let him do this on his own otherwise. 

He wanted Stan here, he did, but he couldn’t bear to watch his heart break again (and, yeah: the part of him, however tiny, that was still holding onto reality as he used to know it was worried that he may not make it if they were met with another failure. No matter how many times he seems to be proved wrong, he knows that Stan can’t actually do everything and he won’t actually live forever). 

Even now when it actually did seem to be working for once— it was stable, anyway— the sight would just bring back… bad memories. He still remembers it like it was yesterday. M—she’s floating up, up, and away from him. Stan’s begging and pleading. A sickening cacophony screams in their ears.

He still dreams about it, morphed and twisted up in the memories of That Night. Stan doesn’t talk about his dreams, but Dipper’s old enough to guess. 

Hell, he’s old enough to know. 

Everything stops, though, when he hears voices, when he sees an arm and a leg— they’re so small, was he ever that tiny?— covered in neon bandages come through the rift. There’s a winning smile still bedazzled in braces and hair that still probably smells like strawberries and bubblegum pulled back with a headband. 

His legs give out and he watches as that smile immediately falls from her little face, her sweet brown eyes getting big and wide. 

“You don’t have to be scared,” he hears himself saying. Why is it so cold? There’s a flurry of tan and red and black somewhere in the corner and his eyes start to burn, but he only sees her. “It’s okay, Mabel.” 

He reaches a hand up to brush his bangs back, revealing the familiar birthmark.

“It’s okay. I promise.” // @starsandpigs & @slqhv liked for a starter!

[slqhv]

SONGS I ASSOCIATE WITH STANFORD.

the stranger — lord huron.

in the androgynous dark — brambles.

the conquest of spaces — woodkid.

the diaz brothers — the mountain goats.

always gold — radical face.

blue ridge mountains — fleet foxes.

matilda — oskar schuster.

meet me in the woods — lord huron.

brother — matt corby.

tagged. @mancfmystery thank you sm !! :0] tagging. @devilagent / @dollene, @moralpuppet / @halfdent,

@precipine, @coolrpblog, @piinetrees, @fyramids @crvptd and whoever wants to !

[transstarfolk]

hello! for 2 head mates !

Name(s): SIRIUS (you can put other names and nicknames)

Age: 15

Pronouns: he/it/fox/angel (you can put other first names)

Gender(s): free to you !

Sexuality : free to you !

Species: free to you !

Race: fox angel

Roles: free to you !

Likes/interests: free to you !

Dislikes: free to you !

Boundaries: free to you !

Fav/associated son : free to you !

FACE CLAIM : a blue fox, half human, half fox with angel wings

Name(s): mil (you can put other names/nicknames

Age: 16

Pronouns : free to you!

Gender(s): free to you!

Sexuality: free to you

Species: free to you!

Race: free to you !

Roles: free to you!

Likes/interests:

Dislikes: crises

Boundaries: free to you!

FACE CLAIM: fair skin with medium golden hair with black highlights and he wears jumpers

thanks in advance !

Note — Headmates will most likely not form 100% accurate to the template, and any/all information can be changed to fit your system.

(Image 1 — Image 2 — Image 3)

Name(/s) — Sirius, Vixen, Scamp, Reynard

Species — Fox-angel hybrid, rainkin, fogkin

Age — 15

System — BAHtive, entomate

3rdp. Pronouns — he/him, it/its, fox/foxs, angel/angels, blu/blue, aqua/aquas, pool/pools, paw/paws, gloom/glooms

2ndp. Pronouns (you/your/yours/yourself) — You/your, rai/rair/rairs/rainself, clou/clour/clours/clourself, fog/fogr/fogrs/fogrself, 🌧️/🌧️r/🌧️rs/🌧️rself

1stp. Pronouns (I/me/my/mine/myself) — I/me, Rai/rae/ray/rain/rainself, Pri/pre/preci/precipine/preciself, Vi/vix/vix/vixen/vixenself

Gender — Foxboy, retrosette, foxberrix, fluffyfoxic, vixnimbus, rainfirescentic, angelirainic

Orientation/Attraction — Bi-pan fox4fox

Other IDs — Alderain, aldercorwing

(Image 1 — Image 2 — Image 3)

Likes — Everything related to rain, clouds, fog, thunder, photography, sweet foods, blueberries

Dislikes — Sunny days, the desert, spicy food

Aesthetics — Rainy Day, Soggy

Proxy Options — 🌧️💧/🦊🪽/☔️🐾

Extra Notes — One of those beings to spend hours outside when it's raining. Like splashing others with water but hates being splashed by others.

---

(Image 1 — Image 2 — Image 3)

Name(/s) — Mil, Pyre, Quince

Species — Human, sunflowerkin

Age — 16

System — BAHtive, entomate

3rdp. Pronouns — he/him, hx/hxm, vi/vir, yellow/yellows, sky/skys, shine/shines

2ndp. Pronouns (you/your/yours/yourself) — You/your, go/gold/goldrs/goldself, su/sun/sunrs/sunself

1stp. Pronouns (I/me/my/mine/myself) — I/me

Gender — Transluxine, wingluxic, stellaradian, angelthing, cirrusdayic, suncreature

Orientation/Attraction — Aroace + panplatonic

Other IDs — Suncloud hearthome, swallowtail butterfly otherhearted

(Image 1 — Image 2 — Image 3)

Likes — The color gold, the sun, daytime, flying animals (butterflies, moths, birds, ect.), flowers, reading

Dislikes — Crises, distress

Aesthetics — Golden Hour, Summer, Warmcore

Proxy Options — 🌼🔅/🌤️🌻/🔆🟡

Extra Notes — Doesn't like to be touched without being asked permission first, with the exception of a very few close friends / family members.

[stcries]

okay okay, i'm biting the bullet and announcing the winners of the halloween event's costume contest. these were such a hard decision, everyone's costumes were great! but these couldn't help but leave an impression on me.

so for best dressed, we have @deciphver (i couldn't stop laughing at bill's outfit okay, and i feel like he'd try to kill me if he didn't win a prize of somekind SO UH-)

and for best concept, since it was a duos outfit, we've got both @starsandpigs and @precipine with their grunkle outfits.

[mvltiversed]

every time @precipine uses a bttf quote for their tags, an angel gets its wings

[sixersigned]

@precipine SAID: “I wish I could just make a wish and become a better person.”

If Stanford hadn't heard that before. He knew better, in this multiverse, to make wishes though. Your life is a pathway you make yourself. Sure, others might influence it, or use it for the wrong purposes, but ultimately, it's your own. That, and wishes are just a cheap shortcut fraught with pitfalls and possessions, and Ford had never been a fan of either of those. No, he has the experience now. But with this particular thing? Well, he's still grappling with that himself... there isn't a day he doesn't think about how different it all would have been if he'd never recited that incantation. Never chosen his legacy over that of his most trusted. Never trusted the wrong person.

He has made mistakes he could never even imagine sharing with the kids. It was his shame, his hubris. Something he has to push through, for THEM.

“ You know, there was this guy I knew—back in my younger days, “ he starts, glancing over to Dipper as he passes the mug of hot chocolate. " He was in a similar predicament. "

[pine-dexter]

"Oh... that's not good, is it?"

Stanford cherished his time with his nephew, especially when they could go on explorations in the deep woods of Gravity Falls. Even living here for the decade he did, there was still so much to discover! Dipper was the perfect candidate for these outings, being just as curious as he was. Plus, it was just nice to have a companion. He didn't really do solo hunts these days, not with at least one Pines family member around at all times. However, the major downside of having his nibling along was that when things got dangerous, it wasn't just him at risk. Of course, he'd do anything he could to make sure either of the children (and Stanley, honestly) were safe, but sometimes actively walking into a precarious situation made that harder.

Like now, for instance. The pair had traversed deep into the woods today, on the hunt for a rare creature Ford had caught only glimpses of years ago. But instead of finding it, they had stumbled upon a patch of shimmery purple mushrooms. Mushrooms that had started to emit some sort of dark mist that was quickly closing in around them in the clearing.

"Ah, no. I'd say very not good!" And he swept up the younger boy, carrying him like a slightly awkward football. At least Dipper was somewhat portable. Much easier to carry than Stan.

"Time to go!" And he bounded back the way they came, dark purple smoke nipping at his heels.

[starsandpigs]

@precipine asked: ‘  sometimes  it  feels  like  someone  else  is  wearing  my  body . . . ? ’

" . . . do I have to get the glitter and hairspray to spray in your eyes again ? " she's squinting at dipper, alarmed and concerned. but bill, surely, wouldn't be that stupid to just philosophize about it.

[dreamsofalife]

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’…? ”

"Dip dop, honey. My dude. You know like...I don't know how to really say this in a way that doesn't come off as blunt or a little rude, but, you've seen some horrific shit. I can't blame you for having lingering aftereffects of the insane level of trauma you've experienced."

[inkheart01]

THE GODS WILL NOT GO QUIETLY

A Gladiator and a Paramour. A Scout and a warlords advisor. Friends torn down to Enemies. Martyrs and Makers. Allies reduced to Traitors. And at the end of the day, who will question the gods when their toys grow boring?

PT 1- CHAPTER 3

WORDS - 2,192k

CHAPTER 1__CHAPTER 2__CHAPTER 3__

“You and atlas are one and the same, My dear. Cursed to hold a weight you cannot bare And still standing. Not because you can But because you have to” ― m.h

“Arcee?”, Jack clambered up beside her, the concrete wavering beneath the combined weight, and Arcee reached out to steady the boy. “What part of Vegas is enticing to the Decepticons?”, The setting sun cast the city in vivid golds and reds, and the autobot hummed as she wrapped a finger around the boys arm, holding him steady as he leant over the precipin, a vicious shiver jolting through him as he gazed down at the street miles below. “And why are we so high up?”

“Because we need eyes in the sky, and the ‘cons have gotten good at hiding their signatures”, A blaster drawn, she shifted lightly, wincing at the crackling stone beneath her. While she was the lightest of all the ‘bots, even the steadfast earthen architecture wasn't made for weight like her, especially the balcony high atop the strip that she had perched herself on. 

“Cee”, the boy hissed, “It’s been hours”

“I didn't take you for the impatient one, Jack”, she teased back, blaster cool against her knee as she shifted back, climbing off the ledge slowly. Normally, she wouldn't dare be so bold, but Raphael had ensured that no cameras were pointed anywhere near her little corner of a parking garage, and she trusted him more than she found possible. “Arcee to base, copy?”

⎸⎹ We’re receiving you, go ahead ⎸⎹

“1700 Hours, suns setting and no ‘cons yet”, She relayed. They had been going over these updates every hour, ever since midday, when the grounder and her charge had raced into Las Vegas. They had taken to sightseeing for a while, zipping through the vibrant streets, exploring the grounds and its spoils, before Ratchet had reminded them of the mission, and, dejected and whining, they had raced up to the top level of a parking garage, camping out for a long and cold stake-out. “Anything on your end?”

⎸⎹ Not yet ⎸⎹, the medic helpfully supplied, ⎸⎹ Keep comms quiet, I have a bad feeling about tonight ⎸⎹

“Copy”, she crouched next to the boy, watching the horizon as he leant back, a sharp pop echoing through the cold air. “It reminds me of home”, Jack turned to the Autobot, her gaze fixed on the city lights, the music, the landscape. Home? He remembered a few times Cybertron had cropped up in conversation with the other bots, and of all of them, Bumblebee had been the most forthcoming when it came to lifting the veil on the many cities dotting the planet's surface.

“Bee told us about Iacon, I would have loved to see it”, He offered quietly, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight. Oddly enough, he had never been to Vegas, the city so close he could see the lights on startlingly clear nights, and yet always just that little bit too far. 

Arcee hummed, “Iacon was beautiful, but it wasn't my home”, Jack turned to her, watching as the lights bounced across her armor, staining her in pinks and reds, and for a moment, he almost didn't recognise the Autobot beside him, for a moment, she was someone somewhere very far away, and he was only looking through a glass, cracked and dirty and distorting the bot before him. 

“Arcee?”, she had turned her gaze skyward, eyes shut as she breathed deep, stars reflecting across her armor. “Who were you before the war?”

Her eyes slipped open, a sliver of blue against the gray night, and for a moment, he expected her not to answer. And then she sighed, head limp and body rigid, stiff and tense in her hunched crouch. “A product”, she hissed. And Jack felt his heart stumble to a halt, breath caught in his throat as she remained still beside him, lost in the divide between the tragic peace that came with acceptance, and the raging wildfire of a vengeful storm.

And then a low humming filled the air, dancing between the cacophony bellow and Arcee watched, transfixed and blasters ready, as Soundwave transformed with a grace she found herself hopelessly envying, wings seamlessly becoming arms as he landed lightly cables deployed to steady him as, even across the street, she watched as the building groaned. Beside her, Jack reached for his phone. “Dont”, she hissed, ducking behind a pillar as the con snapped towards her, EM field darting out as she snatched Jack up, sidestepping the electro-magnetic static. The buildings crackled, power straining under the sudden surge and Arcee swore, backed against the edge of the building with a Decepticons searching field in front, and a fathomless drop behind. Again, she wished her winglets weren't so useless.

"What do we do!”, Jack squirmed, pushing against her fingers. “If he finds us-”

“Shut up!”, she snapped, panicked whispers filling the air as she turned, eying the distance behind them. It wasn't ideal, but she had survived worse. “Hold on”, Jack wrapped his arms around her neck wordlessly, knee’s digging into the delicate protoflesh of her shoulder as Arcee loosed her own EM field, the crackling charge brushing up carefully against the ‘Cons, and then she dropped, fingers digging into the concret as she ducked into the level below, crouching, helm brushing the ceiling as she froze. 

She had pulled her field in tighter, holding it close as it hissed across her frame, building and bubbling with loose power as Jack squirmed, hair raising as the charge zipped through his body. This close, she could hear his heart pounding in his ribs, and her own struggling to keep the tempo. It was foolish, to reach out against Soundwave’s EM field, he would know she was near, but she hoped it provided the distraction she needed. “Run”, She whispered, mindful of the silence as the lowered the boy to the cold concrete.

And then a Data cable shattered the stone above them, snapping out for the Autobot, electricity ripping through the air. “Go, Jack!”, Arcee screamed, ducking out of the cable’s way as it lept towards her. She shuffled out of the way, mindful to keep herself between the boy and Soundwave, even as a second cable ripped through the ceiling, and she had to throw herself to the side, blasters drawn to avoid the hissing charge. A vicious volley of shots ripped across the twin cables, and Arcee ducked back in front of Jack, the boy closer to the elevator, than the crumbling hole in the ceiling.

And then Soundwave dropped down, crouching low with thin fingers ghosting over the ground, eying her down behind the void of his visor, and Arcee felt her spark stop. For a split second, all they could do was look at each other, Four thousand millennia of history held in a single breath as around them, the concrete cracked, and Arcee felt her heart scream as Soundwave came to the same conclusion. 

Arcee spun, turning her back on the Decepticon, lunging for Jack as the ground crumbled out beneath them. The boy screamed as she tucked him close, curling her body around his as she fell, rock and steel cracking against her, battering her body viciously as wind wooshed past her ears. And then the ground crashed against her, and she screamed, static crashing across her voice as a sharp pain snapped across her back.

But Jack, who shuffled, groaning, against her, was unharmed, and that was what mattered.

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As the last rays of the twin suns settled across the horizon, Soundwave found himself slipping through familiar thin alleyways, a nightly routine he’d found himself succumbing to. Behind him, Rumble and Frenzy trailed, weak, playful jabs and kicks entertaining them as Ravage looked on from their masters shoulders, keen gaze flicking from the minicons, to the path ahead. 

Kaon's streets were a jumble of wide main roads and imposing walls, and thin slipstreets with secluded hideaways nestled in the intersections of buildings. A maze for those unfamiliar with the architecture, and a haven for those who were. It was one of these thin passageways dripping with rust and cloth that the Gladiator and his children ventured down, streets quiet and echoing with muffled noise from the main roads. It was one of those such noises that made the faceless combatant pause, head raised and a servo resting against a wicked blade tied to his waists. Footsteps, three pairs. The light clicking of heels, and two heavy sets. Soundwave stood for a moment more, listening to the fading steps, before continuing on. 

Piercing the oncoming darkness like a sharpened sword, the small clearing in the otherwise steel labyrinth shon with the last dregs of light, golden glow bouncing off the walls and cascading down through the web of cabling and cloth. It was hardly beautiful, but it was a solace from the horror of the Pits, a spark nestled deep in Kaon’s darkness. 

As Soundwave stepped into the light, armour shifting from black to blue in the glow, Ravage yowled, leaping from his shoulder as something impacted heavily with his wounded knee. Tightening the grip on his sword, Soundwave reached for the Femme, a vibrant pink splash of colour against the cold grey of the city, golden eyes wide with the reflection of the towering Goliath. Behind her, emerging from the darkness, two Mechs, one painted red and white, the other green and grey. “Where’d that little bitch go!”, their voices, echoing through the air, spoke of something from a higher caste, paint and armour clearly of a higher standard. Iacon guards, by the emblems proudly displayed upon their metal. 

Fixing his posture to tower over the mechs, Soundwave found his hand occupied by a warm body, the Femme having launched into his palm, arms wrapping around his digits, and he noted, startled, that she was shaking feverishly. Looking back down at her, at the little thing with his thumb resting in the space between her winglets, he realised exactly what she was. A Forge-Frame, like him, golden eyes ringed with pink, an exposed protoform, armour a mere decoration, an afterthought. A sickening realization dawned on him, not that she was severely outnumbered, but that she Art-Caste. 

“You’re not welcome in the Blue Palace!”, against her body’s wracking trembles, her voice was strong, clear and determined. Even though she shook against his palm, she never let it touch her voice. 

“We’re not in your little whore house, are we?”, the green mech spat, daring to step closer with a fire in his eyes, uncaring of the gladiator towering over them. “That Madame can’t protect you forever, now come here!”, the red one lunged forward, and the Femme clung closer, nails biting into his digits as Soundwave ripped the blade out of its sheath, resting it sharply against the mechs neck, a thin trickle of vibrant energon carving a glowing path down his neck. 

Raising her head, the Femme leveled the two both a vicious gaze. “Leave”

They didn’t waste a moment.

Soundwave watched them disappear back into the dark, listening intently as their steps faded quickly, and only when he was sure they were gone did he turn back to the Femme still in his hand. She was hanging limply now, shaking as her chassis shook, he could feel her spark pounding against him. Beside her, Rumble and Frenzy had emerged from the dark. Rumble carefully running his servo over her shoulders as Frenzy softly pried her digits out of his palm. “Boss bot? She’s not looking too good”

Nodding, Soundwave returned the sword to its sheath, carefully tightening his grip on her as he moved towards one of the rusted benches nestled in the corner. Ravage leapt up first as he helped her down, kneeling against the warped ground.

“Thank you”, with a hand clasped against her spark, she smiled up at him with tears in her eyes, “They’ve been waiting for me for a while, I can usually avoid them, but I had errands-“

“Hey pretty lady!”, Rumble cut in loudly, and Ravage hissed in disbelief. “Don’t worry about it, Boss bot scared them good!”

“Thank you for that”, she smiled, a hand outstretched towards him. “I’m very sorry for disrupting your afternoon”, careful of her delicate plating, Soundwave took her hand, “I’m Cavalier”

“Boss bot’s Soundwave”, Frenzy nudged Rumble away, inching closer to her. “That’s Ravage, and I’m Rumble!”, Ravage hissed as Rumble tackled his brother.

“I’m Rumble!”

“Liar!”

“Nuh-uh!”Soundwave shook his head as Cavalier laughed, a sweet thing, like a sunrise after rain.

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