#rotr blurr

[riseoftheradiotrons]

Broken Screen, Needs Repairing (Part 1)

Blurr shook his right arm as fast as he could, watching the wheel-lock fall off. With a sharp kick to his right leg, careful not to hit the wheel, he knocked the other wheel-lock off, too, and was successfully free of the wheel-locks.

The alt-restrictive backpack... would pose a slightly bigger problem, but that was what his modified pedes were for.

He folded his pedes back up into wheel-guards, and pushed himself off the table, now successfully standing on his wheel. Using his pedes would be too slow, and awkward, and he was so used to this form of moving himself around, anyway. He leaned forward to take off...

And his spark was dangling from his chassis.

His eyes went wide and he desperately pushed it back up into his chassis, so afraid of it falling out.

This... would become a problem.

Not only was his Infinite Speed Factor connected to his spark, so was... literally everything else. If he went too fast, it could fall out, or be hit by something, or any number of things that would snuff out his signal in an instant.

He couldn’t see anything that could help create some sort of replacement chassis plating, not even any tape, so he’d have to do the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do in his entire life. Regulate his speed. He just wanted to leave this scrapyard, but if he went too fast his entire life signal was on the line.

He groaned. Please let there be some sort of podship for me to leave this place with.

He carefully skated his way through, one hand over his spark so it wouldn’t decide to come loose all of a sudden. It’s just an escape plan that could literally kill my signal if I messed up, what could possibly go wrong?

No, that doesn’t help. Just stay alive. You’re Blurr. You’re great at staying alive.

(Shhh, nobody tell him.)

As far as he could tell, everyone was recharging - he’d received word from Probe that today would be the day for recharging, so tomorrow someone could leave and find Nanotube. If someone left tomorrow, they’d only be watching Blurr more closely. This was his only chance to make an escape. He had to make it count.

He skidded to a stop, letting his pedes keep him rooted to where he was, and took a look at the password pad for the laboratory door, the final obstacle to him exiting this place.

Scrap.

He didn’t remember seeing Greenscreen type anything in, didn’t have any sort of idea what the password could possibly be or how long it was. All the pad had were the standard ten Cybertronian numerals, and groups of letters below each numeral.

He thought for a moment.

PROBE. 7-7-6-2-3.

Code incorrect.

GREENSCREEN. 4-7-3-3-6-7-2-7-3-3-6.

Code correct.

The doors hissed open, and he snickered at the fact that Greenscreen made the password to his private laboratory his own name. But... if anything, he had to thank Greenscreen’s pride.

For bringing him one step closer to freedom.

He stepped out onto the asteroid, lifted his pedes back up, and continued skating.

[riseoftheradiotrons]

Broken Screen, Needs Repairing (Part 2)

The asteroid was grey. Lead dust and ashes covered every surface in sight, and was so thick in the air that without a proper RWT ventilation system, it was a challenge to so much as breathe. Radioactive material - radioactive scrap, rather - was piled high almost everywhere in all sorts of forms, creating a maze that surrounded Greenscreen's living laboratory. Some stacks were cylindrical, resembling grain silos, others were tall, thin towers that looked like more of a "look how high I can stack" challenge rather than an effective means of keeping waste out of the way, and still others were in heaping hills so high that Blurr couldn't see over them.

His chest was still wide open, his spark completely unprotected, and every move he made had to be incredibly careful. There was the challenge of the dust, too - every so often, he had to wipe it off his spark, a sensation that sent pins-and-needles down his legs.

The air was thick and dusty and horrid, and while the lead dust provided him some protection against the radiation all around him, there was no clean air, so far away from the crisp, clear atmosphere of Velocitron, his home planet. His ventilation and filters weren't made to handle any of this, and the lead dust was ruining his filtration system. It was hot and cold at the same time, by the Melting Pot, this asteroid was miserable.

He let his pedes slide down in front of his wheels, and screeched to a stop. Looking around while on wheels, even if one's spark wasn't completely barren and ready to fall out of one's chest at any time, was a terrible idea when you were a Velocitronian.

Past all the radioactive material and lead dust, he saw a promising shape in the distance - what appeared to be the roof of a podship dock-house. Knowing this wasteland, this mess slated for the Melting Pot, it could've just as well been radioactive waste storage... but if it was storage, there probably wouldn't be so many piles all around him. Besides, Greenscreen wasn't a flight frame, but he had to get here somehow.

The journey there was almost unbearable - almost. But despite the clean air of Greenscreen's lab, that was a place he needed to get out of, get away from.

As he made his way closer to the dock-house, the piles of radioactive waste became smaller and more sparse, the maze of hazardous material giving way to the one method of leaving this place that he could find. There were definitely podships here, then - they needed proper space to take off and land.

The doors to the podship dock-house didn't have a lock, which was great, because it was unlikely whoever was in charge of Greenscreen and the rest of the Radiotrons probably wouldn't let Greenscreen decide on the lock code.[8:58 AM]Instead, they were just left completely alone - one door was ajar, so Blurr didn't even have to turn a handle.

The dock-house was built to hold ten podships, but only three were stored inside. A Seeker - what looked to be a Seeker - with bright green eyes and biolights took one look at Blurr and immediately fled, holding something in hand. He hoped whatever they were holding wasn't dangerous, or meant to bring him back here.

He went for the smallest podship - it would be hardest to spot, due to its size, if he landed among other podships. There was no sign of anyone chasing him down, and whoever fled must have simply not wanted to be in his way.

He didn’t stop to think over whether this could possibly be a trap.

He scoured the shed for something to close over his chest, and found a near-gone roll of duct tape - that would have to do. Two large strips of red duct tape crossed his chest and wrapped around to his back, keeping his spark... about as secure as it could be kept. There didn’t seem to be any plating he could use, just podship repair tools, and he didn’t really have much in the name of podship knowledge. He didn’t want to risk that.

Seeing that he’d found just about everything here that was useful and wouldn’t immediately be noticed if it were missing, he made his way inside the smallest podship, squeezing through the small opening in the door as it hissed closed.

Even the inside of the podship was covered in lead dust - but at the very least, the ventilation and air circulation kept the air cleaner. Screens were most thickly covered in dust, and Blurr used a towel lying on the back of the copilot’s seat to wipe the dust off.

He hit ‘AUTOPILOT - LAST DESTINATION’, leaned back in the pilot’s seat, gripped onto the seat handles for dear life, and hoped for the best.

[riseoftheradiotrons]

“Blurr’s acting up again!”

[Again?] Greenscreen pressed two fingers to his screen - the closest he could get to pinching the bridge of a nonexistent nose.

“He’s been tugging at his restraints, trying to get the wheel-locks off!”

Greenscreen held out a fist towards Probe and its gigantic laboratory body, opened it, closed it, opened it again - Greenscreen for ‘I’ll be there in a minute’.

“Alright, I’ll make sure he doesn’t actually break free of anything.” The small extension of Probe retreated back into the main mass of the laboratory, awaiting Greenscreen’s return.

Greenscreen let his screen-face droop as if his neck were rubber - Greenscreen for sighing. [Some people just don’t know when to stop.]

Inside the laboratory, it was eerily quiet. Any background noise that would normally come from power generation was absent, due to the body of the labs being one Cybertronian. Displays were dim, to conserve Probe’s power, and every step on the ground let the hollow sound of metal on metal echo throughout the building.

Greenscreen approached Probe’s feeding hatch, and pulled out a stack of alarms that were too radioactive for the Higher Powers’ taste. One by one, he dropped them into the feeding hatch, and watched as the terrifying grinder teeth tore each one to shreds. Probe was hungry today.

It was easy to find Blurr’s room, as it was the only one currently occupied with a live patient. No other sounds would be made inside the laboratory, other than Greenscreen’s footsteps, and Blurr’s wheel-locks made a distinct chime every time they were hit against a surface harder than they were. 

Upon the door opening, Blurr didn’t stop at all - just kept desperately hitting the wheel-locks against any possible surface. Something could be knocked loose, something must be knocked loose, this can’t be all for nothing-

The restraints tightened. Painfully so. His limbs felt like the energon was being squeezed out of them.

A burn-chemical coursed through his body. Every limb felt like it was on fire, his optics blacked out, he became hyper-aware of anything touching him - the wheel-locks, the restraints, the table below him, his own fingers touching each other.

[When will you learn? How long will it take you to realize, you’re only alive because you have use to me?]

Blurr was too busy being temporarily blinded to respond.

[You’re here because my weapon is still incomplete. You are alive because my weapon is still incomplete. You are on thin ice, Blurr, ice not even you are fast enough to cross. In the end you will be reduced to nothing.

[You will be reduced to less than me.]

Despite Blurr clearly being unable to see him, he still firmly believed his words, and now the burn-chemical, were what shocked Blurr to the core.

Greenscreen left the room while his ego was still fed, leaving Blurr to his lonesome.

As the sound of metal footsteps faded, the laboratory went black, with no more need to keep any lights on without Greenscreen in the building.

The sight of a light blinking out and the sound of a lock clicking open was quiet to all but Blurr.

[riseoftheradiotrons]

I KNOW, I KNOW, I JUST POSTED WRITING AND NOW YOU’RE GETTING ART AGAIN.

But I finally finished another fullbody! This one is Blurr, and there’s quite a bit of Velocitronian lore behind... whatever the hell is going on with his arms and legs. It makes sense in context, I swear.

No, Velocitronian sparks are not supposed to be exposed like that, nor are they supposed to have orange wheel-locks or a giant orange backpack. You’ll learn more about that, too, a bit later.

[riseoftheradiotrons]

Perhaps I’m Not So Dead After All

He shut his eyes.

At some point, he began to let himself enjoy this feeling. Hands prying open his chassis was the kindest touch he’d received in decades. Probe would attach itself to Greenscreen with a click and speak his words for him - Greenscreen would tell him what a good job he was doing of staying alive, of not running away, of letting him peek into this anomalous spark all he wanted.

“Look at you... you little miracle... your speed inhibitor is gone, and yet you face no health problems. Not even the standard mercury allergy. Once I find the source of this anomaly... oh, the power I’ll have. The PRAISE I’ll have.”

Even the sound of his voice was somehow reassuring. He’d ramble on and on sometimes, his deep voice filling the room, only broken by the clink-clink of him changing tools and when he was particularly concentrated on something. Probe would also poke and prod at him, but not very often. Usually it was just to hold up a limb that Greenscreen wanted to inspect further. It was... well, it was touch. Nowhere near as comforting as Greenscreen’s, but it was something he could feel.

“Your wheels... I never thought to check your wheels before.”

A hand ran along the wheel that took up most of his lower leg. Rather than shivering or pulling away at the touch, he just lay there. He let it happen. This was the most care anyone had shown for him since he’d first arrived here.

You’ll be alright, he told himself. He listened as Greenscreen’s hand shifted from tool to tool, deciding what was the best way to take this miracle leg apart.

A slow inhale, a slow exhale. Something sweet was in the mask again.

Anesthetic.

He won’t hurt you. You won’t feel a thing, okay?

You’ll be alright, Blurr.

[riseoftheradiotrons]

You’ll be alright, he told himself. He listened as Greenscreen’s hand shifted from tool to tool, deciding what was the best way to take this miracle leg apart. 

[Here he is. Rated 9/10 Blurrs by the Blurrmaster, RotR Blurr is hot off the presses and... not doing so well right now. The orange and red bits, as well as the mask, were forceful modifications. He has blue lipstick on under the mask.]