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ckret2 · 6 years ago

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The Dead Unsung Heroes Club

Pairing: Starscream/Wheeljack Wordcount: 13800 Notes: This is my gift fic this year for @secretsolenoid, for Ray! The request that I was writing: IDW RiD/TAAO: Starscream/Wheeljack, Prompt: bonding over doing something science-y.

Summary: One moment, Wheeljack is dead. The next he's on the inside of a dark bubble-shaped planet listening as Starscream explains that Unicron was defeated, they're somewhere midway between life and death, and Starscream hauled Wheeljack there because he needs an engineer's help upgrading some busted Unicron parts into a machine that will let Starscream get back to the living world. But the longer Wheeljack helps Starscream, and the more he talks with the other mechs scattered through limbo with them, the more certain he is that Starscream is keeping secrets from Wheeljack about the purpose of this project—first and foremost that his motives aren't nearly as selfish as he's led Wheeljack to believe.

The afterlife wasn't something Wheeljack had spent a lot of time thinking about, but he supposed that if he were to guess what it would be like, he wouldn't have guessed this. The Afterspark, if that was what it was, was a tiny pinprick of light, so impossibly small, so impossibly far away and yet so close it might have been within him. In a way, it reminded him of... but no, he supposed there was really nothing he could compare it to.

It was so small. How was he supposed to fit into it? But then the more he stared at it, the more he realized how dazzling the tiny light was. Maybe it wasn't small; maybe Wheeljack was the small one, closed up so tight he could only get a glimpse at the light. Maybe if he opened up... unraveled... piece by piece, let himself dissolve and drift away... and the more he stretched out, the more he dissipated, the more he left behind who he had once been, the brighter the light got, until...

Just before he dissolved into nothing, something behind him reached out and grabbed a hand he didn't remember he had, and said a name he'd almost forgotten. And then he was pulled backwards into the dark.

The next thing he knew was Starscream.

"That was a close one. We almost lost you," Starscream said, a little too close to Wheeljack and smiling like he meant it. "A few more minutes—or whatever passes for minutes around here, I don't know—and you would have been gone for good. You're welcome."

Wheeljack was getting a little too used to waking up from certain death, disoriented and confused, to be greeted by an overexcited Starscream in a new body. "You're blue."

Starscream beamed. "More blue, yes."

"And... curvy? Your optics are magenta." Nobody had magenta optics.

Starscream was practically preening under the factual analysis of his new frame—thrusters humming, wings tilting. "Do you like it?"

Wheeljack shrugged vaguely. "I thought you looked nice in red."

Starscream immediately scowled. "Excuse me. This is my body. My true body! It's how I'm supposed to look."

"Oh," Wheeljack said, completely uncomprehending. "Okay."

He was, he realized, splayed on the ground; he very carefully sat up and looked around. "... Hold on. It's... is this the... that city in the center of Cybertron?"

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Starscream scanned the empty organic city and blank black sky with obvious disdain. "It's a pity, but we can rip out the trees."

"What's... where are... Where's Unicron?"

"Primus. I expect he's off cuddling with Optimus somewhere."

Wheeljack gave Starscream a blank look. He was still too dazed to be shocked.

Starscream shrugged. "Yeah. I know."

"What about Elonia?"

"Saved! The population, anyway." Starscream clapped a hand on Wheeljack's shoulder, beaming, and Wheeljack jolted as his fuzzy thoughts jerked back into focus around the point where Starscream was touching him. "You did great work. You rescued everyone except yourself. I don't think anyone's bothered to recognize your sacrifice besides me, though. But hey, welcome to the unsung heroes club. We don't do it for the glory, right?" Starscream, who could probably count on one hand the number of things he hadn't done for glory, gave Wheeljack a rakish and thoroughly convincing smile. He tried to stand back up, but Wheeljack clapped a hand over Starscream's to keep it in place; so, after a moment of hesitation, Starscream knelt down next to Wheeljack.

His thoughts were coming back into focus now, and working at double time trying to piece together what had happened since Elonia. "Hold on—'except myself'? What's going on? Where's the sky? Where are the other people? Why is—no, how—no, why is Optimus cuddling Unicron? What do you mean, 'unsung heroes'? Did..." He looked at Starscream, somewhere between nervous and horrified. "Are we dead?"

Starscream didn't look back at him. "Wwwellll..." He raised his shoulders, grimacing uncertainly. "Define 'dead.'"

Wheeljack slid out from under Starscream's hand, flopped on his back, and stared at the blank sky.

"Welcome to infraspace."

Wheeljack made a strangled noise.

Starscream left Wheeljack alone for a bit to adjust.

Well. "Alone." He spent about half an hour doing aerial acrobatics through the empty sky directly above Wheeljack. Wheeljack kind of thought Starscream was trying to sell him on the new body. Wheeljack kind of thought the look was a little "Thundercracker develops Primus apotheosis," but it was growing on him.

Once he'd recovered sufficiently, Starscream filled him in.

Unicron was dead, but so was Cybertron and every one of its colonies except Earth. They'd all evacuated from one planet to another and most people had made it. Some had died. Most didn't! But a whole lot of stars were eaten. Starscream hadn't heard about how the rest of the galaxy was faring yet.

Anyone who'd died in direct contact with the Talisman's energy had ended up here, in infraspace, the Afterspark's waiting room. Starscream was here, of course—died activating the Talisman to burrow its way into Unicron, as he explained to Wheeljack in excessive detail, and of course Optimus was the only one getting recognition. Blurr was here, another member of Starscream's "unsung heroes" club. Kup was around somewhere, he liked to tell everyone tales about how this place was just like the Dead Universe but not as bad, and what's his name that guy with six modes—anyway, a load of Autobots, so they and Starscream politely tolerated each other. Optimus was shacking up with the organic that made/was Unicron and wanted to be left alone, and Starscream, for one, was more than happy to respect his wishes. Sometimes Shockwave ducked in for a few minutes, but they threw stuff at him and shouted insults until he stopped astral projecting from Prowl's prison ship.

And then Wheeljack had to lay down and stare at the sky again.

"So," Wheeljack asked, "How do—how do you know what's going on back in—what's the opposite of infraspace? Ultraspace?"

"We've just been calling it 'the real world,'" Starscream said. "Wouldn't ultraspace be..." he made a gesture like something leapfrogging over an item, "beyond normal space?"

"Oh. I guess so." Wheeljack shrugged.

They were sitting on the rim of a nonfunctional stone fountain. It was a little low for comfort, but it was nearby and there weren't exactly Cybertronian-scale benches around here. Starscream kept switching between crossing his legs and pulling his knees halfway to his chest; Wheeljack's legs were stretched out in front of him.

"Okay, how do you know what's going on in the real world, then? You haven't been getting news from Shockwave, have you?"

Starscream scoffed. "Please! As if I'd accept anything from that one-eyed, two-faced spawn of a glitch—even information. In fact, I'd go so far as to say especially information."

That was a bit more emphatic than Wheeljack had expected. Sneering disdain, sure—but not that scowl, not that venom. "Something happen?"

Besides the ores, the time travel, the attempt to destroy the universe, the weird manipulative mind game he'd played with their entire species, and the fact that he'd spent like three fourths of recorded Cybertronian history pretending to be a horse. Starscream wasn't bothered by what people did to other people. Despite what most believed about Starscream, Wheeljack didn't doubt that Starscream did have a strong sense of right and wrong; it was just that, for him, most of the time, right and wrong were merely an intellectual exercise. He wouldn't start burning in rage over what Shockwave had done—even if Cybertron, or the galaxy, or the entire universe should fall—until and unless it affected Starscream personally.

And Starscream evidently understood that was what Wheeljack was going for, because he didn't waste time reminding him of Shockwave's many reprehensible crimes. He snorted. "It's a long story and I'm not going to tell it. Let's just say Shockwave is the pettiest mech I've ever met in my life—and I'm including myself on that list—and that my last couple of days were pretty bad for my ego, and leave it at that."

Well, that could cover just about anything. "Does your ego have very many good days?" He said it wryly, but part of him genuinely wondered—and worried.

Sure, Starscream was far from the best bot to ever peel himself out of the ground (or, no, come off the assembly line, hadn't he?) but he wasn't completely without virtues. He was brilliant, he was cunning—those were two different things—he had a wit as sharp and precise as a scalpel, and he was a machiavellian mastermind in a way that was a wonder to behold when it was turned toward more noble end goals, even if "noble" wasn't anywhere among Starscream's intentions. All of his virtues had a faint miasma of ill intent around them, sure—but they were there, and they were undeniable. Wheeljack wondered how many people actually bothered to acknowledge that. It didn't seem like nearly enough.

Starscream replied to Wheeljack's question with an equally wry smile. "Well, I realize you were having a pretty bad day at the time and probably don't remember, but I was elected supreme leader of Cybertron this one time. That day was pretty good for my ego."

Wheeljack laughed. "Right! Of course."

"And I made it to precinct senator once," Starscream said. “That wasn't a half bad day. Oh, and I was made second-in-command of an army. Perhaps you hadn't heard of that? I think you may have been on the other side."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point."

Wheeljack was just beginning to wonder whether Starscream had ever felt validated on any days other than ones where he'd just been handed some massive promotion and an equally massive amount of power, when suddenly Starscream glanced away, his smirk slipping down to a smile that was a little smaller and a little more genuine, and said, "Chosen One Day wasn't bad either."

Really? It ranked right up there with being declared supreme ruler of the planet? "Well—"

"And your little speech."

Wheeljack shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under the way Starscream was glancing sideways at him. "Oh. Well, uh." He shrugged again. "It—wasn't a bad holiday. So. Good going on that." He reset his vocalizer noisily. "Anyway, you still haven't answered my question."

"Which question?"

"About—about the real world. Living world. About how you know what's going on out there."

"Oh, that!" Starscream's optics lit up, and he leaned closer toward Wheeljack, grinning conspiratorially. It was a look that Wheeljack had only seen him make a couple of times before—even with a new faceplate and paint, it looked the same—and it always showed up immediately preceding Starscream asking Wheeljack to do something outrageous, dangerous, and miraculous. He was wary of the smile.

But he always did what Starscream asked when he made it, so, what did it say about him?

"Can you keep a secret?"

Wheeljack hesitated. "... From?"

"From—the others." Starscream gestured vaguely around. "You know. Them."

"The other Autobots?"

"Yes, them."

"You're, uh, doing things that the Autobots wouldn't approve of," Wheeljack said, "and you think I—a whole Autobot—am gonna be okay with it?"

Starscream scoffed. "You're sixty percent Autobot at most." Wheeljack didn't have time to work out whether Starscream meant that as a compliment or an insult, much less which way he personally was going to take it, before Starscream went on, “Anyway, it's not that they wouldn't approve. They'd want in on it. They'd want Optimus in on it. And I'd rather he not. Call me selfish, but I'd rather keep this one little project to myself."

"Why don't you want Optimus in on it?"

"When you see, you'll know."

"And I don't get to see until I've already promised not to tell, right?"

Starscream smirked.

Wheeljack sighed. "Well, with terms like that, how can I refuse?" He knew he'd regret it just a little bit more if he didn't go than if he did.

"I knew you'd see it my way." Starscream slung an arm around Wheeljack's shoulders, and he tried not to focus on the weight of it, the warmth of him. For the first time, Wheeljack really realized just how cold this place, this strange demilitarized zone between life and death, really was. No—not cold, exactly. Devoid of warmth. Temperatureless, somehow. All except for Starscream.

Wheeljack really wasn't doing a very good job of ignoring Starscream's arm.

"Come on!" And now Starscream had his hand on Wheeljack's shoulder, squeezing, and it was going to be a miracle if he could think of anything else ever again. "Let's get going. You're going to absolutely love this."

Prowl had found out, and Jetfire had confirmed, that Unicron was sucking energy from the cores of distant stars in order to power itself. Half of the machinery that allowed this feat had been located somewhere inside Unicron itself; the other half had been located in the black hole at its heart, deep inside infraspace. Which meant, somehow, the machinery could reach out from infraspace to the real world. And if it could, maybe it could be used to help someone else in infraspace reach the real world.

Well. No "maybe" about it. It could. And Starscream had. Not quite corporeally—he'd gone as not much more than a specter, and thus far had only managed to make contact with Bumblebee, Starscream suspected it was because he'd also spent a fair amount of time in infraspace—but he'd gone. It had only worked a couple of times, though, and then stopped; now Starscream needed Wheeljack's help to get it working for good.

Wheeljack had spent too much of the past few hours feeling flabbergasted for this new revelation to blow him away. ("Hours"? Were hours still a thing here? Wheeljack wasn't sure how long he'd been here, but his fuel levels hadn't fluctuated, nor his energy levels. It felt like his body was in limbo, ever-unchanging.) So he immediately got to work examining the machinery.

It was located inside a misshapen facility, lit by only a few large high windows and sparse lighting that Starscream thought must be powered by this “magic” thing they’d all heard so much about lately, because it sure wasn’t electricity. The interior, alien though it clearly was, looked like a cobbled-together mix between a boiler room and a factory floor.

Much of the machinery had been very clearly—not shut down, because it didn't appear capable of being shut down, designed to run forever without end—but disabled, panels removed and wires expertly snipped, components and cogs neatly removed. Starscream took credit for that—"I think they were still sucking up stars—just slower—so I shut those parts of it down,"—and not for the first time, Wheeljack was struck by the way that, if Starscream didn't have anything immediately self-serving he needed to do, the next thing he defaulted to doing was almost always the right thing. And again not for the first time, Wheeljack wondered what kind of an amazing person Starscream might have been if he wasn't so frantically trying to convince everyone around him that he was amazing. He'd wasted his life on a con telling lies about himself that would have all been true if he hadn't instead wasted his life on the con.

And sometimes Wheeljack ached to think of it. He'd ached whenever he watched Starscream put on that self-assured, self-deprecating smirk he wore when he wanted everyone to know he'd done something secret that they'd hate him for if they knew, and he'd ached when he'd watched Starscream stand before the whole world and politely confess to every crime he'd committed while wearing the crown, and he'd ached when he heard the previously-penitent Starscream had escaped in the wake of "Onyx Prime's" jarring arrival and was running riot with the Decepticons.

And he ached now, hearing Starscream explain how he'd saved all the stars in all the galaxy from slowly suffocating, with a wirecutter here and a ratchet there—how he'd saved the entire galaxy, not for laudation, but simply because it needed to be done and Starscream was here and could do it.

One mechanism controlled the flow of energy back and forth from real world Unicron to infraspace Unicron, and that was where they were focused now. It was a particularly tall, roughly cylindrical machine standing by itself in a circular room with a couple of high windows that didn’t so much bring in light as suggest that light was invited in if any happened to be in the vicinity and wanted to drop by. Instead, the room was brightly illuminated by a plethora of glowing orbs that liked to hover a few inches over whatever surface they’d been set on, and that Starscream advised Wheeljack not to touch with his bare hands. He’d scavenged them from New Prysmos.

“It's really quite simple for anyone who knows a bit of rudimentary mechanical engineering," Starscream explained, one side of the machine peeled open so he could lean in with a flashlight and explain which Cybertronian parts were equivalent to these alien components. Every once in a while he would stammer over a name, call it a "doohickey" or "the fast zappy bit, you know," and Wheeljack would supply the real term, surprised and pleased that Starscream knew what they were for and how they worked, even if he didn't know all the right terms. "Just about any species that's invented faster-than-light travel could have made a thingy like this to instantaneously transfer energy across vast spaces—"

"An energy ansible," Wheeljack said.

"I thought 'ansible' was only for faster-than-light communication devices?"

"Sure, unless you put the word 'energy' in front of it. Then it communicates energy instead of messages."

Starscream straightened up to give Wheeljack a skeptical look, then shrugged and leaned back into the energy ansible. "I mean, hell, Megatron's gun has something like this in it; this isn't revolutionary tech. The only unusual thing about this thingy is that one half is in the real world and the other half is in infraspace. I still don't know how they accomplished that."

"It'd probably take, oh, a week or two to figure this thing out," Wheeljack said, trying to lean in around Starscream to examine the alien tech. "So I'll have it in a day."

"I love it when you do that."

Wheeljack's spark spun. "What?"

"What?" Starscream quickly straightened up and held the flashlight out to Wheeljack. "I should hope you can figure it out. That's why I hauled you back from the afterlife."

Wheeljack's spark was still a few RPM too high—he could feel it like static humming through his wires—but he took the flashlight and tried to act as much like nothing happened as Starscream clearly thought there had. "No surprises there," he mumbled, trying and failing to focus on the wires in front of him. And then he registered what Starscream said. "Wait, back from the afterlife?"

"Yes?"

"Not infraspace? The—the afterlife afterlife? Like, as in the Afterspark?"

"Yes?"

"Not—I wasn't here?"

"No? You don't remember me hauling you back?"

Wheeljack tried to think. Between Elonia and waking up with Starscream over him, it was all a murky black smear and an indistinct white light. "No. Why didn't I wake up here? You said anyone who'd interacted with the Talisman ended up here, right?"

"Interacted directly with it, while they were dying."

Wheeljack was staring at Starscream now. "You pulled me back from the afterlife?"

"Ah..." Starscream averted his gaze, staring at the same bunch of wires Wheeljack had unsuccessfully tried to focus on a moment ago. "Well, I needed the help of an actual proper engineer, but—obviously—needed a dead one, and you were dead but still only on the threshold of the Afterspark instead of actually in it, so..." They sounded like excuses instead of explanations. They sounded like that thing Starscream did where he justified his altruism by pointedly providing selfish motives.

"How did you get to the afterlife and back?"

"See that?" Starscream leaned back into the energy ansible and pointed up.

Wheeljack aimed the flashlight at a translucent, glasslike cylinder, with a plus and a minus recently scrawled onto each end of it. "Uh-huh?"

"I reversed the polarity."

"That's it?!"

"Yep."

Wheeljack grabbed the energy ansible's casing and laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight.

"You can see why I don't want the other Autobots to find out about this, right?"

Wheeljack thought he could see, but stayed quiet for a moment. He wanted to hear Starscream's explanation.

If you walked through infraspace long enough, you found that it curled upward, like a bowl. Keep walking, and you found yourself back where you started. The surface of infraspace was like the inside of a bubble, and the sky hung heavy and black in the middle. The engine that sucked life from the stars was a building-sized tumor of misshapen components embedded in the bubble, with a warped umbilical cord that stretched up from its roof into the sky. From their vantage point, sitting on top of the roof, they could see the cords of another four or five sites of Unicron parts stretching into the black.

Far away and left of New Prysmos, so far that the sky's cloudy darkness almost obscured it, was a tiny facility that would have been unnoticeable from this distance if not for the severed umbilical cord that lay in a loose coil around it. Starscream stared at it as he spoke.

"Right now, Optimus is content with his undead retirement," Starscream said. "But he's got an ugly little tendency to come back from retirement the instant people start to say his name with nostalgia instead of scorn. Whenever he does, he takes charge, does something crazy, makes things a million times worse, and then gets people pontificating and debating about the moral ramifications instead of stopping him like they know they should."

"I think you're a little biased," Wheeljack said, uncomfortably—uncomfortable because he could say that Starscream was biased but wasn't sure he could say he was wrong.

"Am I? What do you think about his little conquest of Earth?"

"Well—I mean—" He stammered for a moment, trying to put a couple years' worth of hopelessly tangled opinions in order. "It's—it's a complicated—it brings Earth into the international community, which can only be good for it, especially since they're already dealing with other alien threats like the Dire Wraiths—"

"You're pontificating," Starscream said, "on the moral ramifications.”

Which he was, and knew he was. He fell silent.

"And you didn't deny that it was a conquest."

Wheeljack could have argued that he'd thought the exact terminology being used was less important than the question being asked, but that would be dodging the truth and they both knew it. "I didn't," he said, defeated. "It was a conquest."

"And usually you Autobots are all about overthrowing conquerors, aren't you? But what did you—you, Wheeljack, what did you do when the conqueror was Optimus? What did all of you do, you collective Autobots and Prime-worshipers? It's wrong, it's unacceptable, it's worth fighting a war over—until he does it, huh?"

Wheeljack grumbled, but he supposed he couldn't really argue with that. Every time he thought about Cybertron taking over Earth, something inside him twisted and squirmed with guilt. And when a defeated voice in his head said there's nothing I could have done, an angry voice answered that doesn't mean you had to collaborate.

He'd collaborated with Starscream, too. What was the difference?

Starscream stood, balancing on the edge of the roof, his pedes half hanging over the edge—was that a flier thing? Brainstorm did that too, and it made Wheeljack just as nervous—and planted his hands on his hips. "Smarter defectors than me have said that the day the Decepticons went off the rails was the day that the Cause became conflated with Megatron himself. Maybe the Autobots should've taken that as a cautionary tale."

All right, comparisons to Megatron were too far. Wheeljack elbowed Starscream's shin. "You were saying about not telling anybody about this."

Starscream kicked Wheeljack's thigh. "If the Autobots here know that there's a way out of infraspace, the next time there's an emergency, the first thing they're gonna do is bust down the door to Optimus's love shack and tell him he needs to go save the universe again. And then he's running wild again, with even fewer checks on him because now everyone loves him for martyring himself for the umpteenth time to stop Unicron.”

"Do they?" Wheeljack asked. "All love him, I mean? You've been out there."

"Of course they do. Nobody says anything bad about the guy who died saving the galaxy."

"What about you?"

It was the wrong question to ask. Starscream winced and mumbled, "Not saying anything counts as not saying anything bad, I guess." For Starscream, Wheeljack expected, even the worst sort of infamy would have been better than being forgotten.

Dryly, Wheeljack said, "Comes with membership in the unsung heroes club, right?"

Starscream laughed bitterly. "Anyway. You get it, right? Why I don't want them to know?"

Wheeljack considered what it would be like for Optimus to come back to life again. Sure, he'd deal with the crisis of the day—he always did—but the decisions he made when the crisis was over, when they were at peace, when everyone (hell, including Wheeljack himself) did everything he asked no matter what they thought or how they felt about it... Cybertron didn't need any more de facto dictators, even benevolent ones; and no matter what Optimus or anyone else intended, that would be what he'd become if he went back. And he would go back, if for a second he thought he was needed and knew it was possible. And if he didn't think he was needed, the others—Kup, Blurr—might persuade him otherwise. "You're right. I won't tell."

Starscream smiled down at Wheeljack, and the fact that he was smiling made Wheeljack immediately second-guess his decision, even as his spark spun a little faster again. "I knew I could trust you."

And he said it like he meant it.

"I don't know how you managed to get this working the first time. All by yourself?"

"What, do you think I had help? Me? From who?"

Wheeljack was examining some components high on the side of the energy ansible, the part designed to actually store energy. "This thing is designed to only work one way. It takes energy in; it doesn't push it back out. But you were able to get it to go the other way?"

Wheeljack was balanced on top of a stack of tables—they couldn't find a ladder—and leaning inside the energy ansible. From here, he couldn't see Starscream, but he could hear him pacing around at the base of the machine. "Yeah. Can't you make it go the other way?"

"Well, yes—"

"Then great. No problem."

"But how did you do it?"

Starscream was silent a moment, just long enough that Wheeljack knew he had to be deciding whether to tell the truth or make up an answer. "Decepticon secret." Okay, that sounded like the truth.

"And do I get to learn the...?"

"Oh, not a chance. It's not going to work again, anyway. It's all on you now."

"It might help me figure it out faster if you—"

"Nope."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Wheeljack decided he could believe Starscream on that. "Anyway, it shouldn't be that difficult to make a new way to reverse the flow. It'll be hard, but pretty easy."

He heard Starscream stop pacing. "You wanna try that again?"

"Uh... Labor-intensive, but simple."

"Oh! Sure." The tables shifted slightly under Wheeljack's pedes as Starscream climbed up them. "So, already figured out what we need to do?"

"'We'? You're actually helping, not just supervising?"

"Sure! If there's room for me to. I'm not going to get in your way." Starscream's voice got steadily closer, until he was standing on the same table as Wheeljack, one forearm resting on the open casing of the energy ansible and the other resting on Wheeljack's shoulder. He was, Wheeljack noted, a lot more touchy-feely in death than he'd been in life. He wondered if it was because of the new body. Or maybe—Wheeljack had to wonder, darkly—maybe it was because nobody could hurt the dead.

In any case, he wasn't complaining. Touching was—nice, touching was fine. (He felt a little less oppressively neutral and a little more alive, where Starscream touched him.) He was just curious.

"But if I can help..."

"Definitely," Wheeljack said. "What kind of engineering experience do you have?"

"Maintenance skills. And soldering, welding, so on. I liked to get hands-on with our super weapons."

Wheeljack brightened. "Yeah? Me too." Of course, Wheeljack mainly got hands-on with the ones he'd designed himself, but it was still nice to hear. "How are you with chemistry?"

"Eh." He wiggled his hand in a so-so gesture. "I can make bombs out of bird crap."

Wheeljack was dying to ask when that had ever been relevant to Starscream's life. "Think you can identify some piezoelectric ignition sources in the wreck of New Prysmos?"

"Tell you what: I'll bring you anything I can find that sets fires, and you tell me if it's piezoelectric or..."

Wheeljack hadn't noticed that his own arm had been snaking around Starscream's back until the instant his fingertips brushed Starscream's waist and Starscream fell silent. It had felt like the right thing to do—why had it felt right?—because Starscream's arm was on Wheeljack, and—balance, and— But now Starscream was silent, his optics wide in shock, his wings raised, every piston and pulley in his body frozen.

"Sorry." Wheeljack pulled his hand back.

And the second he did, Starscream darted away from him. "Piezoelectric!" (For a moment, Wheeljack couldn't recall what Starscream was talking about.) "New Prysmos! Got it!" His voice was a shade shriller than usual, and definitely louder. He climbed down the tower of tables so fast that Wheeljack had to grab onto the open casing of the energy ansible for balance. (What happened, he wondered, if you got injured in infraspace?)

Right—right! Piezoelectric! "Hey!" Wheeljack leaned around the energy ansible. "If you don't find anything in a couple of hours, come back here. I'll probably have a list of other things for you to forage for by then."

Starscream stopped, perched on a windowsill high above the ground—Wheeljack supposed that was an easier exit for a flier than the door, huh—and turned back to look at Wheeljack. He had a wild, frightened, frantically happy look on his face. his smile shaky and wide and crooked.

"Chronometers don't work right in here," Starscream said, "but I'll guesstimate it the best I can." With that, he rolled backwards out of the window. Wheeljack heard him transform, and out the window he could see Starscream do barrel roll while heading toward New Prysmos. Like a five-day-old MTO, showing off that he was finally steady on his new wings.

Wheeljack watched until he was long gone. Then forced his attention back into the guts of the energy ansible.

His fingertips blazed where they'd touched Starscream's waist.

Wheeljack was wondering, for the dozenth time, just how Starscream had gotten this thing to work the first time, when he heard the sound of an approaching jet through the window. He stopped his work, wiped off on some kind of weird sleeveless robe he'd found in a closet and been using to clean grease off his hands, and carefully climbed down the tables just in time for Starscream to transform and land. "How goes the hunt?"

"You tell me." Starscream popped open his cockpit, and a pile of miscellaneous objects tumbled into his hands. "Everything I could find that starts fires, just like I promised."

Wheeljack peered over the objects. "Is—that a piece of charcoal?"

Starscream held his hands out so Wheeljack could better inspect it. "Looks like it."

"I said piezoelectric."

"Yes. You did. I'm not actually entirely sure what that means."

Wheeljack gave Starscream an exasperated look. Starscream shrugged. "The molecules flex when you electrify the object or something, right? I didn't exactly come in here with a taser and a microscope. Anything else look good?"

"Wel—" Wheeljack stopped. And stared at Starscream. "... Weren't you blue?"

"Oh!" Starscream was definitely not blue now. He was, in fact, quite red. "Yeah, thought I'd, uh—what do you think?" He smiled winningly.

What did he think? What did it matter what he— "What happened to blue? I thought that was your—you said it was your final form or something?"

"My true body," Starscream corrected. "And—yes, but—the paint job doesn't make a big difference, does it? It's still the same body. What do you think? An improvement?"

"Uh..." Wheeljack shrugged, baffled. "I don't—I don't know. I was still getting used to the blue." Starscream's smile faltered. "Where did you even— Who brought red paint in here? When did you have time to repaint? How long were you gone?" It didn't feel like that long. A proper repaint took, what, probably half a day? If you didn't want to get sloppy, and Starscream's was definitely not sloppy. It hadn't been half a day. Had it? Wheeljack hadn't been working half a day. Had he?

"Not however long you thought I was." Starscream dumped his findings on the table. "Anyway, does any of this work."

He'd brought back some flint, a couple of damaged lanterns that appeared to turn on by magic—a wonder that they still worked—a wood torch, and several small canisters of different types of fuel, including—"Where did you get this?" "Blurr had it with him, talked him out of it,"—a single, solitary can of engex. None of it what Wheeljack needed, but not bad to have around. Especially that can of engex.

"We'll split it," Starscream said, "when we finish upgrading this thing."

"We should give it back to Blurr," Wheeljack said.

Starscream shrugged. "Hey, if you don't want the only can of engex in infraspace, it's no paint off my back."

"I'll look for a piezoelectric ignition source," Wheeljack said. "And, in return, you get a scavenger hunt."

"Ooh, fun."

Wheeljack held out a datapad with a list of materials he needed to convert the energy ansible from one way to two. "And this time? Tell me if there's anything you don't recognize on the list before you go searching."

Starscream skimmed the list and flashed another smile. "I don't see the word 'piezoelectric,' I think we're good." He claimed the datapad and stowed it in his cockpit. "Are you gonna be in New Prysmos?"

"Probably. I might visit some of the other places with the, uh—" Wheeljack made an up-and-down gesture with one finger, pantomiming the strange tangle of cables stretching up into the sky.

"Oh, yeah. The vacuum hoses."

"What?"

"Kup's term for them. Just don't go to the one with a cut hose; I don't think Optimus and his new alien squeeze are taking visitors."

Wheeljack picked up and stowed the can of engex. "Are they actually...?"

"Hell, I don't know." Starscream was apparently content to use the door like a normal mech this time; he walked out with Wheeljack. "So. The vacuum hose station that's—we've been using New Prysmos as north—the one that's east by southeast of New Prysmos—"

"Hold on. If New Prysmos is the north pole, then isn't everything else south of it?"

"No, like— Okay, if you were flying straight toward the center of New Prysmos, from wherever you are, that direction becomes north."

"Okay."

"So if you were to turn—well, I guess you could just drive in reverse—that becomes south. And east and west are perpendicular to the north-south line, through the center of New Prysmos."

"Yeah. Okay. Got it."

"So. The one east by southeast of New Prysmos—that's the Autobot base."

"Oh, we've got a base?"

"There's an Autobrand on the door and they glare when I come over, so if it's not an Autobot base, it's doing a good impression of one."

They probably weren't glaring because of Starscream's former faction so much as because of who Starscream was as a person, but Wheeljack wasn't about to mention that. "Blurr's there?"

"Either that, or out seeing how fast he can circumnavigate infraspace. I try not to keep up with his latest records; it reminds me of how small our bubble is."

"Then I'll see you later."

Blurr hugged Wheeljack.

Kup hugged Wheeljack.

Even Quickswitch hugged Wheeljack, which was just a tad awkward, since Wheeljack didn't really think they were close enough for that.

Still, he'd hugged everyone back—with extra squeezes for those who'd been dead before him.

"Didn't think we'd see you here!" Blurr was grinning from audial fin to audial fin, probably in part because Wheeljack was here and in part because Wheeljack had said that, as great as it was to see everyone, he'd mainly come to visit Blurr. He was quick to lead Wheeljack over to his section of the "Autobot base"—which was a half-built home inside a dark, decrepit silo. The weld lines were still visible on the walls where whatever equipment the silo originally held had been ripped off by the Autobots. Blurr's area was haloed with what had to have been half the lights in New Prysmos. "Starscream thought you might've got enough of a dose of the Talisman to end up here instead of dead. Kind of surprised he was right—not upset, though! For once. It's good to see you alive again. Ish."

So Starscream had lied. Surprise. Or Starscream had told the truth about what he believed, realized he was wrong, and went out to rectify his error?

"It's good to be alive again. Ish." And good to be around someone other than Starscream. Not that being around Starscream was bad, per se—and it really wasn't bad, he'd found over time, especially since the longer you were around him, the closer he got to shedding his masks and layers and acting like himself. But Wheeljack also found that, if he was around Starscream for too long, if he let himself synchronize too neatly with the way Starscream thought, the way Starscream spoke, sometimes he nearly forgot that there were other people out there. And that probably wasn't a good thing. Was it?

Blurr gestured for Wheeljack to take a seat on a crate, and sat on one across from him. "What took you so long to get here?" he asked. "You didn't get lost, did you?" He grinned. "New Prysmos isn't that big."

Wheeljack laughed. "No, no way." What else did he say about where he'd been? Telling Blurr he'd been dead-dead meant telling Blurr how he'd got un-dead, which meant explaining what Starscream was up to, and he'd promised he wouldn't. He'd agreed he shouldn't, even. But there was a difference between keeping it a secret and telling a lie about it. He'd never promised that. So what did he say? Blurr was looking at him expectantly.

"No, I was—I don't know where. Somewhere dark. Just... floating." Which wasn't dishonest. If he left it at that— "Maybe since I wasn't directly connected to the Talisman energy when I died, it took longer for it to tug me here."

Blurr shrugged. "Huh. Maybe. Who knows how that thing works."

There. He'd done it. And Starscream's secret was safe. Wheeljack waited for the guilt to come over him—the guilt like when he'd meekly followed along with Starscream's more dubious orders, the guilt when he'd said nothing in the face of Optimus's conquest—but it never came. What, was his guilt chip broken?

Or maybe he hadn't done the wrong thing.

"Oh—I came by to return this." Wheeljack took out the can of engex. "Don't know how Starscream got it off of you."

Blurr waved off the can. "Keep it. It's the only can of engex in infraspace. As long as I've got it, I'll be worrying about finding an opportunity to celebrate big enough to justify drinking it."

As Wheeljack stowed it away again, Blurr asked, "How'd you get it off Starscream?"

"Uh—" How did he answer that without admitting what he and Starscream were up to? "He—just gave it to me." Oh, stupid.

But Blurr laughed. "For you? I'm not surprised." And he gave Wheeljack a knowing look. Wheeljack wondered what it was he knew.

"You probably said something nice about his new paint."

Wheeljack looked up at Kup, who was now on top of a loft that had clearly been constructed recently, and— "Why are you standing on your head?"

"I'm meditatin'," Kup grunted. "Passes the time. It was a big help in the Dead Universe. Far as I can tell, only difference between there and here is the good company."

Wheeljack snorted. "You're flattering us," Blurr said.

Something about Kup's comment about Starscream's paint had sounded a little too wink-wink-nudge-nudge for Wheeljack's tastes, so instead of letting it lie, he replied, "Actually, I think what I said to him was that I'd only just been getting used to the blue. Where did he find red paint in here, anyway? I mean—I'm sure New Prysmos has paint somewhere, but not any that would look good on Cybertronians..."

"I'm sure he didn't use paint." Kup rolled down onto his back until he was sitting up, with only a couple of clanks and clunks—pretty graceful, for his age—and scooted around to face Wheeljack and Blurr again. "Probably did the same thing he did to get that new body of his—think it up into existence."

"What? Wait." Wheeljack looked between Kup and Blurr, optics wide. "You're saying he made that new body of his? I thought it— He called it his true form or something. I thought he... got it automatically when he died, or something."

They both shook their heads. Blurr said, "No, he showed up dead the same way he looked when he was alive, like the rest of us."

Kup said, "It took him—I don't know, time's funny here—maybe a week to work out how. He got the optics first, then started switching himself out piece by piece."

"So Starscream can shapeshift now." Wheeljack took a few seconds to absorb that. "Yeah. Okay. Sure, why not? Can we all do that?"

"Probably," Blurr said. "No one other than him has figured out how yet, though."

"Why do you think I'm over here meditating?" Kup stretched, and Wheeljack winced at all the pops, squeaks, and scrapes that emanated from his hips, back, and shoulders. "I'd sure like to shapeshift into something younger."

Wheeljack said, "Starscream always is pretty fast at figuring new things out."

"Yeah." Blurr's face screwed up in annoyance. As though Starscream's brilliance, his ability to think five steps ahead, his ability to combine ideas and schemes and politics and people—to make bombs out of bird crap—was one of his biggest flaws, rather than one of his saving graces.

And Wheeljack was reminded, jarringly, that when he was among Autobots, he was among people who didn't think Starscream had saving graces. Any virtues, any assets that Starscream had, to them, were just more things that made him dangerous to them.

It was like an invisible wall had come up between Wheeljack and the others. He didn't see Starscream like that anymore. How did he see Starscream?

He pressed the tips of the fingers that had brushed Starscream's waist into his palm.

Wheeljack found several sculptures and support structures in New Prysmos that he was pretty sure were made with piezoelectric crystals, but he didn't have the materials to easily turn them into ignition sources. He made note of them, in case he had to resort to them later, and kept searching.

Starscream was buzzing around the New Prysmos ruins, collecting his own list of materials. Wheeljack saw him from time to time in the sky, hovering in bot mode as he scanned the city for his next target, or flying back toward their worksite with a bundle of wires wrapped around his nosecone.

Just as Wheeljack was getting tired of breaking into far-too-small homes and guessing at where aliens might keep objects to start fires, he saw Starscream heading out toward the worksite again. Might as well take a break and see what kind of success Starscream had.

Wheeljack transformed and headed toward the site as well.

"You know, when one person has a twenty item scavenger hunt, and the other person has a one item scavenger hunt, usually you don't expect the guy with twenty items to pull in the lead."

"Oh, shut up. I gave you the easier list." Wheeljack was crouched on the floor, looking over Starscream's finds, which were piled up in a clear space: cords and cables and wires and struts and crystals and glass and tools and on and on. Wheeljack held up a tool that looked like some unholy cross between a wrench and a pair of pliers. "... Huh."

"Yeah, I know. I've been raiding the other Unicron sites for supplies. I'm guessing these are tools used on... which colony was he originally? Elonia, Arduria—no, Ant-something. Antonia? Why do all our colonies sound the same?"

"Unicron was a colony? As in—as in one of our colonies?"

"Oh, right, you weren't around for that. Surprise: we're our own worst enemy, again." Starscream crouched down around the pile of supplies, near Wheeljack—but, he noted, out of his arm's reach.

"You know, just once, I wish somebody else was our enemy." Wheeljack started reorganizing the scavenged supplies, arranging them so it'd be easier for him to quickly grab what he needed while he was working. "Just some whacko pack of invaders that we've never heard of and that’ve never heard of us, but that’ve decided they want a piece of our planet. I'm tired of every one of our enemies being 'each other,' 'the natural consequences of our terrible history,' or 'Shockwave again.'"

"If it helps, right now our enemy is the cold, uncaring concept of death itself."

"... Kinda does help. Thanks." Wheeljack sat back, looking over the rearranged supplies. "Do you believe in the Necrobot?"

Starscream scoffed. "As a supernatural entity? No. But I believe there's probably some weirdo out there that likes counting corpses. Do you?"

"Nah. Mythology."

Starscream appeared to consider that for a moment, then stood up. "I'm trading lists with you."

"What?"

"As reluctant as I am to admit to any of my very few flaws, I confess that I got the easy stuff first. The rest, I'd only trust a genius engineer to get right." Starscream half smiled. "Besides, we've both had a stab at the piezoelectric thingy now; it's my turn again."

"You sure? You don't have to." Didn't Starscream still not know exactly what a piezoelectric ignition source was?

"Sure. I found another place to search. It’s promising."

"In this little bubble?"

"I'm a miracle worker."

A miracle worker who was hiding something. But how much trouble could Starscream get into here, anyway? What was the worst he could do, kill someone? "All right, switch."

Starscream handed the datapad back to Wheeljack. Wheeljack was careful not to touch his hand. The items he'd already found were checked off. Yeah, he had found the easy things first. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Wheeljack didn't see plating nor paintchip of Starscream for... for a good while. (He missed time. He missed the need to refuel and the way it ordered the passage of events into cycles instead of a single interminable line.) He collected most of the materials he needed, hauling them one at a time back to their worksite; and as often as he looked to the sky, or along the far-off curves of infraspace's bubble, he didn't see Starscream flying around.

But on his third trip back, there Starscream was, leaning against the energy ansible with arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other, grinning triumphantly.

Wheeljack stopped in the door, two chemical-filled jars and a bundle of foil in his arms. "You found it?"

"I give you," Starscream said, "one piezoelectric ignition source."

He held up... Wheeljack couldn't even see it. He walked closer and squinted at Starscream's hand. It was an extremely tiny plastic brick, on the tip of one finger. "That's it?"

"It's called a lighter." Starscream said the word in human—Wheeljack wasn't sure what language just from one word, they all sounded so alike, but you could always tell when someone was speaking in human. "You push a little button, here," he tried to point with his other hand, which was basically useless, "and it squeezes something inside the lighter to make a spark and start a fire."

"It's tiny. I was hoping for something a little bigger than that."

"I got more." Starscream held his hand under his cockpit, opened it a crack, and hundreds of lighters spilled out.

Wheeljack dropped the foil bundle to the ground so he could hold one hand under Starscream's, catching any lighters that slid off. "Primus, Starscream, where'd you find all of these?"

"You know the humans that were trying to destroy Cybertron but dropped New Prysmos on us instead? I found some of their supplies on the edge of the city a while ago. I thought they might be useful, so I stowed them somewhere secret."

"And they brought this many lighters?"

"Probably to set off explosives. Or ignite those paper rolls that they like to stick in their mouths. Did you notice if any of our invaders used them?"

"No idea."

"Me neither."

Wheeljack carefully knelt so he could set down the jars of chemicals, and cupped both hands over the lighters. "They're so tiny."

"I'm sure we can find tweezers."

"You're sure they're piezoelectric? I'd have to take one apart before I was sure."

"Of course I'm sure," Starscream said. "I looked it up."

"Where?"

Starscream didn't say anything. Wheeljack glanced up at him. Starscream was looking back with a curiously blank expression that Wheeljack suspected was concealing blind panic.

It hit Wheeljack that nothing Starscream had told him about where he'd found the lighters was true. Wheeljack had just asked him for a part of the story he hadn't prepared yet.

He stood, looked at Starscream, and asked—no anger, no accusation, but very seriously—"Where did you get these lighters?"

Starscream looked back at him, and said, just as seriously, "In the supplies the humans left in New Prysmos."

And there they stood. Staring at each other. Hands full of hundreds of lighters.

Starscream looked away first, to very carefully drop his lighters in a pile on the bottom table of their table stack. "Let's split the rest of your list," he said. "It'll get done faster."

Wheeljack didn't say anything.

Starscream finally looked back at him. "Your list?"

"Starscream..."

"What." It was a what that didn't invite questions.

"Where did you get—"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," Wheeljack snapped. He dumped his lighters on top of Starscream's, and for a moment was too uncomfortably close to him. "Yes, it does matter, because it means you're—you're not just hiding things from me—you're lying to me! When I'm trying to help you!"

"Oh, wow. Starscream's lying." He shrugged, hands swung wide. "Are you surprised?"

"No!" Wheeljack was surprised at how Starscream flinched back at the word. "No, I'm not! But I am disappointed!" Starscream scoffed; it wasn't convincing. "Disappointed and, and—and furious! And why? What, does it matter where you got the lighters? Did you, I don't know, have to murder a tribe of infraspace-dwelling aliens to get them?"

"Of course not," Starscream said defensively.

"There's no 'of course' anything with you! I can't take anything for granted!" Starscream flinched again. "Starscream—Starscream, I'm helping you. I'm on your side. Why don't you treat me like an ally?"

Starscream glowered down at the pile of lighters, jaw set in an angry pout. Wheeljack waited anyway. Finally, Starscream said, "This is how I treat my allies."

And that was so true, and so depressing, that it immediately drained the anger out of Wheeljack. "I guess so." He looked down at the mysterious lighters, and idly scooped them together into a pile.

"So," Starscream said, tone cold and reserved. "Splitting the list."

"Why should I keep doing this?" Wheeljack asked. "If you're just going to lie all the way through it."

"Because if you don't have a project to work on, then you've got nothing to do with yourself other than hang out with the other Autobots, and the best project they can offer you is an opportunity to play interior decorator." Glib and snappy. They were back on questions that Starscream had prepared answers to. Starscream had expected that Wheeljack would want out—and that was even more depressing. "You'd rather be here. You want to be here, stretching the boundaries of science, digging around in Unicron's guts, turning alien machinery inside-out, punching a hole between limbo and life—even if it's with me."

"It doesn't have to be 'even if,'" Wheeljack said. "It could be 'plus.'"

Starscream flinched again, like that was another jab at him.

Wheeljack hadn't meant it as one. "Starscream..."

"Just give me the list," Starscream said. "And we'll get it done and you won't have to deal with me anymore. All right?"

Not wanting to deal with Starscream anymore wasn't anywhere on the list of feelings motivating Wheeljack right then. Not wanting to deal with Starscream like THIS, sure. But he didn't know how to elucidate the difference. He wasn't entirely, completely sure how he did want to deal with Starscream. Not in any way he was ready to put into words.

So he reluctantly held out the datapad. Starscream snatched it up, scrawled a star next to a couple of the items, and handed it back. "The other two are yours." And he breezed past Wheeljack, so quickly and so close that Wheeljack felt a chill where Starscream's wings stirred the still air. He was out the door before Wheeljack could say another word.

Wheeljack looked down at his list of remaining objects, and sighed.

There were a couple of turbines in the energy ansible, but Wheeljack needed to install another couple for his modifications to work. He'd put them off to near the bottom of his list, but fortunately, he had a very good idea where he could find more.

This was the only energy ansible Starscream had mentioned, but Wheeljack had been staring at its guts long enough to figure out that it wasn't pulling enough energy from the stars to keep Unicron moving. It just wasn't efficient enough. Energy ansibles rarely were. Even if Unicron had alternate sources of fuel, he'd need at least a couple of energy ansibles to keep him going.

Wheeljack started driving, cutting between New Prysmos and the tiny facility with the cut vacuum hose. And as he drove, a structure slowly appeared underneath the heavy black sky: a building that looked just like the one where he and Starscream were working. A second energy ansible, on the exact opposite side of infraspace from the one where Wheeljack and Starscream had been working.

There were his turbines. And, ideally, some answers about Starscream.

Wheeljack had no doubt that Starscream was telling the truth about having done something to the energy ansible that let him escape a few times before failing. If he hadn't done it once already, he wouldn't have been so sure that it was possible that he’d willingly spent what was probably his last trip hauling Wheeljack out of the afterlife to accomplish it; and if it hadn't broken down, he wouldn't have needed to haul Wheeljack out at all.

But by now, he also had no doubt that the energy ansible he'd looked over had never been modified by Cybertronian hands. The one Starscream had modified must have been somewhere else.

Wheeljack had been content to let Starscream keep his secrets as long as they had been only that—secrets. But now that they were lies, too, perhaps he'd better find out just what the hell Starscream was up to.

The building for the second energy ansible was laid out much the same as the first. Starscream had even taken the time to disable the same mechanisms. The windows were shuttered and only a few emergency lights worked, but beyond that, the only difference between this site and the other one—

—was Shockwave.

Wheeljack stopped dead. Shockwave was like a data ghost in a bad dream, surreal and translucent and multitudinous. Three versions of him lay over the same space, fading brighter and dimmer as Wheeljack stared: the senator, as resplendent as he had been in his heyday in turquoise and rose gold; the centaur Prime with the cruel gaze; and the shabby, worn-out purple scientist with the lost face and hand. Wheeljack couldn't move as all three forms turned to face him at once, their gazes overlapped.

Some distant part of Wheeljack was relieved to note that despite his appearance, at least Shockwave still had only one voice—dusty, droning, haughty, and supremely disinterested: "You aren't dead. Fascinating."

"You aren't solid," Wheeljack retorted. Shockwave glanced down at himself, as if to check Wheeljack's claim.

"Ah, yes. I've been having trouble consolidating my identity. Forgive me." Shockwave looked up again. "I'm not as good at this as Starscream. He always has been bafflingly quick on the uptake."

Wheeljack had been looking around for something to chuck at Shockwave's face—that was, Starscream had said, the locally accepted way to get him to go away—but at Starscream's name, he stopped. "You've been talking to Starscream?" For a moment, it all made sense: Starscream's insistence that Wheeljack not tell the Autobots anything, especially Optimus; the fact that he'd never mentioned the second energy ansible, the one which Shockwave was apparently haunting; the fact that Starscream had declared in no uncertain terms that he wasn't getting information from Shockwave but was reluctant to explain why— "You're working with Starscream!"

Shockwave made a noise so emphatically disgusted that it not only dispelled Wheeljack's theory completely, but also packed more emotion into a single sound than Wheeljack had heard out of Shockwave for the entire length of the war. "I would not work with him if the fate of the universe was at stake."

Sarcastically, Wheeljack snapped, "Saving it or destroying it?"

Shockwave tilted his head—heads—and gave the question serious consideration. "Either," he said thoughtfully. "Regardless, I am here to visit Orion."

Wheeljack was already mentally reproaching himself for assuming the worst of Starscream. What happened to being one of the only mechs to recognize his virtues? What made Wheeljack any kinder to Starscream than Blurr or Kup if he jumped on the first opportunity to think the worst of Starscream?

"Has he been claiming to be working with me?" Shockwave asked.

"No," Wheeljack said. "The opposite, actually."

Shockwave nodded slowly. "And so you doubted him. Intelligent."

Yeah. Pfeh.

He went on: "But no. If you're looking for one of Starscream's accomplices in the real world, you should be looking to Bumblebee, not me. I'm given to understand he's been visiting him regularly."

That, actually, rang true. Bumblebee had mentioned, in passing, having been able to speak to Starscream from Crystal City; it’d make sense if Starscream sought him out...

But hold on. "'Regularly'? What do you mean, regularly? How regularly?"

"I'm in prison," Shockwave said. "How would I know?"

He knew a lot for someone who wasn't supposed to know anything. "But—not lately, right? Not since whatever he used to get the energy ansible to transport him broke down?"

"You're calling it an 'energy ansible'? Really?"

"Just—answer the question!"

Shockwave gave Wheeljack a long, considering look. "Did he tell you he's been using it to transport himself?"

Wheeljack felt his fuel tank drop. "What—what has he been using?"

"Nothing," Shockwave said. "He simply flies through the Unicron black hole and out. He has the thus far entirely unique talent of being able to effortlessly drag his spark into and out of infraspace and black holes—no need for equipment, assistance, or the tedious practice I put in to learn a shallow facsimile of his ability. I almost wonder if it isn't a previously latent outlier ability that never had an opportunity to express itself."

Wheeljack stared at Shockwave, stunned silent. Shockwave took the opportunity to give Wheeljack a pointed once over. "And now he can even will his spark to the afterlife and back? Oh, that is fascinating."

Wheeljack slammed open the door so hard that Starscream jumped. Good, he was here. (He was blue again.)

"You can leave."

Starscream looked startled at the declaration; then resigned. "Oh. I thought—you might need help putting everything together, but—"

"No!" Wheeljack pointed out the window, toward the sky. "You can leave infraspace! All this time, you could leave!"

"Whaaat?" Starscream said, completely unconvincingly. "Why would you think—?"

"Shockwave."

"Oh, scrap."

"All this—" Wheeljack gestured at the energy ansible, "it isn't to get you out of infraspace. It never was. So what is it for?"

Starscream scowled.

"Starscream."

He kept scowling. He didn't say anything.

"Dammit, Starscream, just—" Wheeljack swept a hand at all the supplies they'd collected. "You've had me working on this for I-don't-know-how-long—"

"Three weeks."

"—you could at least tell m— Three weeks?!" He'd thought it was a couple of days. "You can tell time, too?!"

"No." Starscream's arms were crossed tight, and he was glowering down at his feet. "But I can check when I go out."

"Ah!" He was admitting that he could do it. Progress. "So why? What do you need the energy ansible for?"

Starscream hissed, "What does it matter?" Like his words were snake venom and he was trying to sink them in as deeply as he could. "You're not going to work on it anymore. Why would you? I've misled you. I've lied to you. Make up your own story. I'm sure you can imagine plenty of sufficiently awful things." He stormed past Wheeljack to the door.

"Don't." Wheeljack caught Starscream's arm as he passed. Starscream froze up, tensed like he wanted to push Wheeljack away, but for a moment, didn't. Wheeljack was hypercognizant of the texture of Starscream's paint under his hand. "Yeah, you're right; I can imagine plenty of awful things. And you go out of your way to make them easy to imagine. But I've known you long enough to know that, no matter what it is you're up to, it's not half as bad as you want to make everyone believe it is. You've never been as big a villain as you try to look like."

Starscream stared at Wheeljack. His expression was some desperate mix of fury and bafflement and hope, and Wheeljack had no idea what to make of it, so he forged on: "I don't wanna assume the worst about you, Starscream. The worst is never true. So just... tell me why you needed the—"

Some pressure valve burst; Starscream exploded. "It's you! Okay?! You're the one I did this for! I'm trying to get you out!"

Wheeljack's words stuck in his throat.

Starscream shoved Wheeljack off. (Wheeljack registered, vaguely, that sometime while he'd been holding Starscream's arm, Starscream's body had changed completely, to the one Starscream had been wearing when Wheeljack had woken from his coma to be told Starscream was the new leader of Cybertron.) "The goal is to get you out—out of infraspace, back into the real world. I clawed my way into the Afterspark to save you. All right? Not to get an engineer—I don't need a damn engineer, I can go wherever I want—but to get you! And to get you to work on the energy ansible, because I don't know enough to do it, but I do know enough to know that this," he pointed, "this is your best chance of getting home!"

All that, to help Wheeljack? Wheeljack had known whatever Starscream had been up to couldn't have been as bad as his automatic suspicions (his 60% Autobot suspicions) had wanted to say they were, but to help him? Starscream started pacing; Wheeljack sank down on a chair that was just a little too short for the average Cybertronian.

"The other Autobots already tried to get out," Starscream said. "They can't. We all know that the sky is the way out—it's just an inside-out black hole. The Autobots tried climbing the vacuum hoses to get up to it, they tried sending up Quickswitch in jet mode—nothing. The closer you get to the sky, the heavier gravity gets. I'm the only one it doesn't affect, and I don't know why. It does affect my passengers—I tried flying Blurr up and couldn't carry his weight. If you want to make it out, it's the energy ansible or nothing!"

"Why?"

Starscream threw his hands up. "I don't know why! I haven't studied black holes! Go ask Shockwave, if you two are such good friends now—"

"No, not that," Wheeljack said. "It's obvious to anyone who has a passing familiarity with quantum engineering in curved spacetime that an energy ansible is the only way to get supercompressed matter out of a black hole."

"Oh," Starscream said uncertainly, "right, obviously."

"I mean why are you going to all this trouble to get me out?"

Starscream stopped pacing. That was, evidently, another question for which he hadn't prepared an answer. "Because I—" He cut off sharply. "Because you... deserve so much more than to be just another dead unsung hero."

Starscream meant it. Everything about him screamed that he meant it; the way his voice went quiet and shy, the way he shifted his weight uncomfortably during the admission, they way he couldn't even look at Wheeljack even though his optics were so bright.

However, it wasn't what Starscream said that made Wheeljack's spark spin faster. It was what he'd stopped saying.

Infraspace was so quiet when neither one of them was talking. No wind outside, no distant sounds of vehicles and pedestrians, nothing mechanical shifting inside the building—not even electricity humming through the probably-magic lights. It was so quiet Wheeljack could hear the fans working in Starscream's body, the hiss of the combustion chambers in his thrusters nervously turning on and off.

Quietly, Wheeljack asked, "Why didn't you just say you wanted—" he meant to say to help me, he should have said to help me, but instead he said, "me?"

And they both winced, because you couldn't bandy about that sort of honesty with Starscream. Throwing too much honesty at him at once was like flashing your headlights in a nocturnal creature's optics.

Starscream laughed a nervous, rattly laugh, and that was when Wheeljack knew that he was going to get an honest answer back. "It doesn't work like that for me," he said, with a sardonic smile. "The only way I ever get what I want is lying."

"I'm gonna sock everyone who made you believe that," Wheeljack said hotly. He sat back in his chair and spread his hands wide. "If you wanted me, you only had to ask!"

There was a long moment of silence, while they were both equally shocked by the words that had just come out of Wheeljack.

And a second long moment while they figured out which one of them was going to mildly freak out over it first.

Wheeljack figured that if he was the one who freaked out, Starscream would think he hadn't meant it—and he had meant it; he just hadn't known he was going to mean it until after he'd said it. So it couldn't be him. Instead, he raised his outstretched hands an inch higher, and said, firmly, "Yeah!"

And Starscream shrieked, "You what? Since when?!"

"I—have no idea at all!" The outstretched hands became a shrug. "You give off these—really intense off-the-market vibes, so I sort of... you know..."

Starscream gaped at Wheeljack. And then started laughing. He clapped a hand over his mouth, laughing so hard that he had to lean against the energy ansible. He slowly slid to the floor, and Wheeljack stood up, not quite sure if he should be helping Starscream back up, watching him fall, or joining him.

Joining him, he decided. Wheeljack sat down next to Starscream, and tentatively leaned their shoulders together. Starscream stiffened; then relaxed with an obvious conscious effort, his wings and plating shifting minutely. He'd stopped laughing, but his hand hadn't uncovered his mouth yet. Behind it, Wheeljack could glimpse a bit of the same frightened, frantic smile he'd seen when Wheeljack had touched Starscream's waist and Starscream had escaped out a window.

"Hey," Wheeljack said. He wanted to follow up with something reassuring, but wasn't sure what. But Starscream was looking at him, now. So after a moment too long of silence, he asked, "What happened to your other body?" He pointed at the far more angular frame that had replaced it. "You were wearing the other one when I came in."

"Oh. Yeah, that's—something else I can do now." Starscream lowered his hand and shrugged—it felt like static danced between their shoulders. "It's probably all connected, somehow."

"No, I know that you can do it; the Autobots told me," Wheeljack said. "Why'd you switch, though?"

"Oh. Yeah." Starscream glanced down at himself. "You like it?"

It was dawning on Wheeljack that Starscream had asked for his opinion every single time Starscream switched up his frame since Wheeljack had woken up here. "I—sure. It's fine."

"You said it wasn't bad," Starscream said, "the first time you saw me in it. So." He shrugged. "You know."

It was dawning on Wheeljack that Starscream had been asking what he thought for a lot longer than he realized. "It's not bad," he said, "but you called that other one your 'true body,' right?"

"Oh. Yeah." Starscream looked at the floor. "Yeah. So I'm told."

They were silent for a moment. Wheeljack wasn't sure what else to say. This was nowhere near where he'd expected his day (week? afterlife?) to go. Should they be talking relationships, now? Dates? Dealbreakers? Hammer out cross-faction courting expectations? Was Wheeljack going to have to duel Megatron for permission to conjugate Starscream? Was it too early to think about—

"I thought," Starscream said, "if I could get my true body, I'd feel... better. Like a better person. Like the person I'm supposed to be. Instead, I just feel more like me than ever." He grimaced, like that was some grotesquely unfair punishment.

"Well," Wheeljack said carefully, "who else are you supposed to feel like?"

Starscream snorted.

"I'm not kidding. You can—you know—be someone worth being without becoming somebody else." Wheeljack was more accustomed to saving the worth-affirming speeches for the engineers and inventors under him that liked to bounce between boisterous arrogance and crippling performance anxiety—Brainstorm came to mind—but he got the impression these were things that no one else had ever bothered to say to Starscream. "You're someone worth being."

"What makes you so sure? You're only getting the outside view. You aren't me."

"No. But I do know you're someone worth knowing. Which is close enough."

Wheeljack didn't know if Starscream bought that answer, but he did stop talking. Stunned silent or considering it?

He felt Starscream readjust against his shoulder, and glanced over. Starscream's body had shifted again, back to curvy and blue. He was resting his head against the energy ansible, a dark, thoughtful look on his face, as he gazed at the window. Wheeljack leaned his head on the energy ansible as well, wondered if that look was a good thing, and wondered if he'd said the right thing.

Starscream's fingertips were warm as they hesitantly brushed over the back of Wheeljack's knuckles, waiting for an invitation to go farther. Wheeljack laced their hands together.

Wheeljack's spark whirled so fast it felt like a spinning top, dancing in circles around the room.

Removing the turbines from the other energy ansible, it turned out, was a two person job. They were so deep in the machinery, Wheeljack griped, that he couldn't lean into the casing that far without losing his balance and falling in. Maybe he could open up the casing from the other side and try to remove them that way—

—or Starscream could serve as a counterbalance, Starscream suggested.

After a bit of interrogation, Wheeljack figured out what he meant by that: Starscream would put his hands on Wheeljack's waist and lean back, so that Wheeljack could lean forward and his center of balance would still stay far enough back that he wouldn't fall into the energy ansible. Which sounded to Wheeljack a whole lot like Starscream's way of seeing whether or not he could get away with getting his hands on Wheeljack yet.

"We did this all the time in the Decepticons," Starscream insisted, all wide optics and faux innocence. "We're all quite accomplished at jury-rigged mechanics, you know."

"Uh-huh. Because that's what the Decepticons are known for, isn't it? Getting their hands all over each other in the name of teamwork and cooperation."

Beneath the faux innocence, something mischievous glinted in Starscream's optics. "Well. It certainly helps if you find a partner you like."

And so they extracted the turbines like that: Wheeljack leaning into the energy ansible, Starscream holding tight to his waist, their hips inching way too close to each other to not be distracting, and Wheeljack pretending he didn't know Starscream was wearing that grin he wore whenever he knew he was getting away with something wicked.

"And the best part is," Starscream said cheerily, "I'll bet you anything Shockwave won't be able to get back into infraspace once this energy ansible doesn't work anymore."

"What's it matter? We're not going to be here much longer either."

"I know. But I like knowing he doesn't have nice things."

"So," Starscream said, breaking the silence. He and Wheeljack had been studiously soldering new wiring into the energy ansible for... however long, now. "Bumblebee tells me that, when Autobots are courting, generally the one kicking things off does so by giving the object of his, erm, affections," (he mumbled the word, like he wasn't entirely confident in saying it yet) "a sonnet he wrote, and a really cool rock. Like—an impressive geode, or a lab sapphire grown in an interesting shape. He's messing with me, right?"

"Oh, yeah, completely." Wheeljack used up the last of his roll of solder, tossed it over his shoulder, and walked over to their supplies to grab another. "Need more solder?"

"I'm good."

"However," Wheeljack said, "if you wanted to give me a really cool rock, I'd definitely be thrilled."

"Oh yeah? Would it win me points?"

"Oh, beaucoup points." He sat back down and continued soldering. "You talked to Bumblebee? When?"

"Made a trip while you were collecting all that sheet metal. I don't know why I bothered to update him. All I got was razzing and completely fake advice."

"I dunno... that rock idea..."

Starscream huffed, and they lapsed into silence again as they worked.

"... Is that what we're doing now?" Wheeljack asked. "Courting? Officially, I mean?"

"I... I don't know." Starscream paused, then added, in a mumble, "I've never really done this before. A couple times, kinda, but they don't really count. I was planning to use and backstab them."

"Same," Wheeljack admitted, "except for the using-and-backstabbing part."

"I don't get..." Starscream shook his head. "I know that I'm a pile of red flags stitched in the shape of a jet. I don't know why you'd want to court me. Or be courted by me. I don't know if that's a unilateral or bilateral thing."

Wheeljack shrugged. "If you were planning to betray me, you wouldn't have told me you'd betrayed the last couple 'bots you courted, right?"

"I told the second one about the first one."

"I'll take my chances."

The smile Starscream graced Wheeljack with could have illuminated every hall of a Metrotitan. "Courting, then."

He wondered what in the world Starscream had told Bumblebee, if he hadn't told him that they were already courting.

He wondered what it was like, traveling back from infraspace to the real world. Was it like traveling through a wormhole? A space bridge? Could Starscream feel the black hole—what was that like?

Wheeljack figured he'd be finding out soon enough.

"Energy stable?"

Starscream checked the alien console, referring back to the notes they'd attached above it explaining what the readouts meant. "Check."

"Ignition ready?"

Starscream looked at the massive block of dissected-and-recombined lighters bound into their patchwork machine with electrical tape. "Check, I hope." Starscream glanced at Wheeljack. "Patient prepped?"

Wheeljack looked down at the dozens of wires dangling from his open spark casing. "Check. I hope."

Starscream stepped back from the energy ansible and stood next to Wheeljack, and together they looked over their work. It was an absolute mess.

"Are we ready?" Starscream asked.

Wheeljack surveyed the mess critically. Everything appeared to be connected, and nothing was throwing off sparks, so... "If I commed up the break room in Kimia and asked whoever was there if they thought it was ready, three out of five of them would say yes."

"And that means...?"

"We go for it."

Starscream gave Wheeljack an alarmed look. "Is that how Autobots usually do science? Field testing is decided by three out of five 'bots on their break?"

"It's the polar opposite of the Shockwave method. I see that as a plus," Wheeljack said. "Besides, what's the worst thing a malfunctioning energy ansible could do? Kill me?"

Starscream went over to the energy ansible's controls, but muttered, "In this place? I wouldn't rule out the possibility."

”It’s as ready as it’s gonna be,” Wheeljack said. “Which means…” He rummaged around under his armor.

”What? Means what?” Starscream’s optics lit up in surprise when he saw Wheeljack extract the can of engex, and he laughed. “I thought you gave it back.”

”Blurr didn’t want it. C’mon. Split?”

”You first. I’m prepping the energy ansible.” It slowly started to hum to life as Starscream powered it up.

Wheeljack popped open the can, slid his mask half off, and chugged down half the can—trying to ignore how keenly Starscream watched his rarely-exposed face as he drank. When he was done, he clicked his mask back in place and held the rest out to Starscream.

Starscream’s fingers brushed Wheeljack’s as he took the can, and Wheeljack found his gaze caught by Starscream’s. Starscream’s new optics were the color of a deep pool of energon, and just as full of life and energy just waiting to be unleashed. They were the most alive thing in infraspace.

Starscream pressed his lips where Wheeljack’s had been and drained the can, and smirked when Wheeljack tried to cover up a spontaneous engine rev by clearing his throat. Later—he could follow up on that later. When they were out of here.

"Come on! Just turn it on." Wheeljack gave Starscream an encouraging grin, optics curving. "I'll see you on the other side."

Starscream rolled his optics, but he was still smirking. "No dying this time," he commanded. "I'll see you around Mars." Starscream flipped the energy ansible on.

"Hold on. Mars?"

And then it powered on. It felt like a vacuum sucking his spark out of its casing, and all the electricity in his frame out with his spark. The engex he’d just drank vaporized. His vision swam and darkened. The tips of his fingers were just going numb when he was ripped free from his frame and hurdled away into nothingness.

Wheeljack wondered how many people in the galaxy had gotten to see the view from the inside of a black hole coming out. It was like a billion points of light flying straight through him, like rain whipped by the wind, as he flew the wrong way through the event horizon.

And then he was free, spinning through space, stars whirling around him, a sun flashing in and out of his view, and he was struck by the dizzying wondrous sense of space—of open space, of existence and energy and connection and life.

And then he was falling, slowly, back toward the event horizon.

Starscream caught his hand. "You made it!"

Slowly he stopped falling and stopped spinning. Starscream held him up, weightless, in defiance of the black hole's gravity, and beamed at him. Literally beamed at him. The sun was beaming through his face. "You're see-through?"

"We're see-through," Starscream said. "We're incorporeal, at the moment."

"Uh." Wheeljack looked down at his body, and saw the lights of the event horizon spinning through his chest. "I see that."

"Temporary problem," Starscream said dismissively. "I'm in contact with Bumblebee—he's the only one I can talk to directly, without possessing a TV or anything—"

"You can possess a TV?"

Starscream seized Wheeljack's other hand, squeezed them both, and gushed, "It's amazing. I've got to show you how to travel through the Internet; there's so many things we can do like this—anyway. Bumblebee can get us to Windblade—they're friends now, we can beg a favor off of her—she can get us to Nautica, and Nautica can get us to Brainstorm."

"Uh-huh." Okay. That was a whole lot of travel for someone who'd been dead four minutes ago—was time passing again?—but Starscream had clearly thought this out. "And, Brainstorm will give us...?"

"His expertise on mechs that are dead but still alive—which I think is as close as we're going to get to expertise on whatever we currently are—and hopefully, eventually, new bodies."

"Really? We're trusting Brainstorm to make our bodies?" Wheeljack asked. "You know there's an apocalyptic events scale named after him, right?"

"What's the worst thing he could do? Kill us?" Starscream winked.

Wheeljack laughed. "If anyone could find a way..."

"Then it's a good thing I have an expert engineer with me to check my future body for explosives." Starscream squeezed Wheeljack's hands again. "Ready to go?"

Wheeljack squeezed back. "Ready."

Without needing his thrusters, propelled by his own energy and will, Starscream flew away from the black hole and pulled Wheeljack along with him; two sparks shot through the sky toward Earth.

Also on Ao3, see link on my blog!

#starscream #wheeljack #starjack #transformers #maccadam #secretsolenoid #my writing #forged starscream

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determined-magi-archive · 6 years ago

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“ Ugh... “

Three, two, one...

“ Son of a fucking damned gracefull prostitute of the ninth ring of hell, god-fucking-ouch!!! Who the fuck put satan’s shitting melting pitchfork on my hecking chest owowowowowowouwwwwwww. “

Ouch.

Nevermind he’s going to lay on the bed again, and whine down the pain as his magic howls at the offending sensation. Yep, he’s going to lay down and be miserable now, pray dead of unconciousness from pain shock takes him. God, what the hell did he take in? Because it pretty much is like someone put red hot metal down his chest in several points.

Oh wait...

Right.

“ Rhowën Faila, you stupid piece of shit what the hell were you thinking! “

That was a thing, this is a thing, inversed roles and stuff. He’s the one on bed now, with dangerous wounds and stuff. He shrinks down hiding behind his blankets, he knows it won’t help but eeeeeeh, he’s going to need it because his mind is just coming to some facts.

Yep, he nor remembers it. He was running his ass downtown, to try and intercept the fight and break it down. OR at least that was what he intended, until he got skewered with a number of arrows to his chest, how many? Eh, lets se the focus of pain... One, two, three, four... uh alright thats a high number, about six or seven? Well thats a little overwhelming. Yeah, he took a number of arrows to the chest, he was dying from them wasn’t he? yeah...

There was.... there was a lot of blood. He was choking wasn’t he? God... that, uff, that was a thing too. Lots of pain, his chest filling up with wrong warm liquid, an iron metalic taste on his tounge, coughing up words hardly considered even understandable. His friend rushing up to him in panic, words are kind of a blurr, but he can’t expect less he... he was dying, yeah, he was dying and was about to fail to do what he wanted to do, he was dying and he would not be able to say what he wanted, or do what he wished. He would be free of fate, try dying a hero before becoming a villian, but what of his friends? What would happen of them after he died? what...-

Alright, he’s having a slight panic attack, yep...

In, slow down thoughts, your breath too. Not going to help you , and god damn it Agar could you turn it off the volumen he needs calm, you’re not helping!

“ A-agar, pleaaaaaas-OUW. “

Not tight, too tight, that hurts. Better than screaming but OUCH. Please loosen up uptight drake. Oowww.

“ Don’t do that again, you idiot. “

Oh, is he... shaking? No, they’re both shaking. Likely both are crying too, they were both a bunch of crybabies along Belle weren’t they? Hahaha... He... he kind of needs the hug now, it is very appreciated. Hands move to return the embrace and bend slightly... ouch. Yeah, they are shaking bad, aren’t they? God they must look like such a pain of messed up boys, heh... god. They need a break and they haven’t even started.

“ Can’t see you die, not a friend, never, not you, not them, please... “

Haha... like he would ever try that, it was scary, it is scary... He didn’t want to die then, and he felt like he was dying, he knew he was dying, he was dying, it was getting cold and wet and everything smelled like metal and blood and things were red, yellow and purple and he was fading and it was scary, and it felt lonely, he would die and pass alone to whatever came after and he wouldn’t see his friends and he would not be able to say goodbye... and...

Deep breaths, long, even breaths, calm down, easy, don’t overthink it.

“ I don’t think I-I will ever t-try it that way, Agar. “

Yeah, he’s shaking bad, they both are. God... This is a mess. They’re are mess, he’s definitively getting a trauma from this, Agar is definitively relieving some and is barely there, barely also keeping his composture. Haha...ha.... They... they kind of need Braigon’s hug now... or his father... a third party joining to help them calm down be cause they both know they’re not calming down and they are doing a terrible job at it, going back and forth and back again to stressing and owwwww, he can feel those stiches breaking and he is pretty sure he’s going to start bleeding again soon and he’s going to panic again and that won’t do him well and-...

He’s doing it again already.

“ C-can we go back to s-sleep and try to sleep the tra-auma away for a d-day or two? “

“ ‘Kay... Going to kick your ass after you recover, you big dummie... “

“ You and e-everyone else, haha... “

Yeah... he’s needs a breather....

haha... that was terrible....

God...

#|ic|#|carpe fatum|#|the determined mage|#|just as the sentinel|#[ and he's okay everybody!#but also kind of traumatised?#whooooooooooops? ]

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saltynemo · 7 years ago

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Snuck Out

WHATADO Everybody its your boi Nemo back at it again with another fanfiction. I had an amazing sex dream about the one and only, Tyler Joseph, and I decided to make a fanfiction about it, since I haven't wrote about Tyler in a long time. Plus, I got a request to do an ‘Anything Tyler’, so its a win win.

Summery: Tyler convinces Y/n to sneak into a club together and then Tyler gets jealous/angry at her for her acts. Y/n needs to be reminded who she belongs to

Type: Smut

Warnings: Cursing, Rough sexual content, alcohol reference, under age drinking, clubbing (going to a club), little daddy/dollface/doll kink, slight choking, over stimulation, getting caught, very little degradation ,Idk idk

Requested?: Yee

Word Count: 6.5k (6,536 words)

So without further a do, P-P-P-P-PLAY IT:

Ever since I introduced my mother to Tyler Joseph, she has insisted on me stop hanging out with him. "He is a bad influence" She states. To be honest, I have learned a lot of ways to make a fake ID with him, so I can see her point of view. Hes a bad boy and I dig that. Plus, just because my mom tells me not to chill with him, doesnt mean im going to listen to her.

Since I cant have Tyler around when my moms at home with me, me and him have our special little dates together. We usually sneak out together at 12 am, and go have fun. The worst action we have done together is sneak into a club thats about a block away from my house. And thats just what were going to do right now...

I take a swig from a Red Bull by my side, feeling the caffeine rush through my body. I sense a buzz next to me and I nearly jump out of my bed from excitement. Tonight is, once again, me and Tyler's night out together. I check my notifications and see he just texted me:

Tyler :P- Hey Y/n/n! Im across the street from your house Y/n- Are you crazy?! My mom is..asleep. Anyway, what are you doing out there? I usually walk to your house. Tyler :P- I thought a change of plan would be nice ;) Maybe we can sneak into the club again, like we did a while ago. Y/n- Hunny, last time we did that, they nearly called the cops. Are you sure you wanna take that risk again? What if they ask for an ID? Tyler :P- Trust me, they wont. This town is fuckin stupid. Come on, we'll have fun :) Y/n- I dont know about this..I mean im all up for danger, but this is kind of risky. Tyler :P- Oh come on..for me? :( Y/n- Oh okay! Fine. Ill be out in a minute

I get up from my bed and check my window, moving the blinds aside. And sure enough, I see Tyler; sitting down on the curb with his phone. I giggle and stroll to my walk-in-closet, looking for some clothing that could look like im in my 20's-which im not.

I picked out a red Thrasher sweater that cut off to my belly button, along with some jean short shorts. I slipped them on and check myself out in the mirror, noticing something was missing. I looked closer to my face, relizing if I was going to be in a club, I would need some slutty make-up.

I slipped into the bathroom, slowly closing the door so it wouldnt creak. I open my make-up kit, thinking of something that could look nice, but not too slutty. Would some red lipstick and smokey eyeshadow count? I shrug, grabbing the cosmetics needed. I apply the Ruby Luiquid to my lips, immitating a kiss to see if the magic worked. Of course, it did. I giggle, setting down my lipstick and focusing on my eyes. I dont think my eyeshadow is needed..I look pretty damn cute.

I sneak out of the bathroom, peaking behind my mother's cracked bedroom door. I large snore is erupting from the corner of the room. I roll my eyes, bouncing back to my room. I grab my phone and slip it into my back pocket.

I look in my mirror, checking myself out before I go. My height looks horribly small..I think they could spot that im not at least 21 years old quickly. Fuck it, Im definitely not wearing heels tonight. I slip on my usual red socks and black vans and grabbed some cash. I paused for a little bit, noticing my mother's purse was in my room. I look back at my door way, glancing to see if the ogre has awaken. I quicky, but quietly, grab my mom's wallet, searching for her card. Yes! Its here! Hasnt my mother learned yet? I slip it into my jean pocket and place the wallet back into the purse.

I sneak down the hallway, hoping that the hard wooden floor wouldnt creak at a sudden movement. I slowly open the front door, looking outside. I see Tyler, hoodie up and still on his phone. I slip out and close the door, locking it behind me. I jog to him, smiling at how cute he looked. He picked up his head and smiled, "Oh, Hey! Took you long enough" I chuckled, stopping right in front of him. He paused, scanning my face. "Whats with the make-up?" He asks, moving hair out of my features. I roll my eyes, "Were going to a club, Ty. There will be a ton load of sluts there" I inform, giggling. "Gotta blend in" I add, jazzing my hands up. We both share a laugh and start to move down the street.

"Oh and by the way, I brought my mom's card" I say, pulling it out of my pocket and showing it to him. His eyes widened, but flashed a small smile, "You know the pin number..?" He asks, grabbing it from me and scanning it. I smirk, "And her signature" I add, taking it back from him and stuffing the rectangle back into my pocket. "I've taught you see well" He chuckles, putting me into a choke hold and ruffling my hair. I grip his forearm with both hands, giggling as I try to make him release me. We both laugh, him finally letting me go.

We went back to walking, a little too quiet for my liking. "So, did you bring any cash?" I ask, trying to kick the silence away. "I brought $40 of my mom's money" He says, feeling his back pocket to make sure its still there. "Our moms havent learned to hide their money" I say, looking over to him. He smiles, his dimples engraving in his skin.

*TIME SKIP Brought to you by Patrick's Fedora*

We turn a corner, the red Club lights blurry in our vision. We stop for a minute, eyeing out our location. "So, how do I look?" I ask, turning my body so its facing Tyler. "Do I look at least 21 years old?" Tyler just stares at me, scanning up and down my torso and legs. "Um- *cough* yea, deffinetly. You look amazing" He says, looking back up to my eyes. I smile, blushing like crazy, "You look older than 18-let me just say that" I giggle, playfully poking his chest. He rolls his eyes, "Come on, lets do this." We start walking towards the entrance, holding hands to make our disguise look believable.

Once we reached the line, we eyeballed the Security Guard; crossed arms and black T-Shirt that was obviously too tight. I looked at Tyler, giving him a worried expression. "Hey, they wont say anything" He whispers to me. "We have done this before, Y/n" I roll my eyes, smiling.

We stepped in front of the guard, looking up to the 6 foot tall man. He glared at us, squinting his eyes and looking at us closley. "You have an ID?" He asks, his voice rusty and cracked. I gulped, pretending to search my pockets for it. "Hey! Is that guy ok?!" Tyler suddenly shouted, pointing to a man laying on the ground; beer bottle in one hand and drooling. Must have past out. The Guard imediatly rushed over to him, yelling 'Hey, sir! Are you alright!?'. Tyler grabbed my hand, quickly walking into the club. Men and Woman were shouting 'Those kids went inside!' or just plain pointing to us. Tyler's grip on my hand tightened as we were greeted with blaring music, red and white flashing lights, and drunk sweaty men & woman.

He looked back at me, smirking as we started to blend in with the dancing crowd. He turned around and held both of my hands, leading me to the middle. I laughed, him letting me go. We started dancing, trying to fit with the crowd around us.

The lights and crowd around us were a blurr. Tyler and I were only focused on eachother, and also the ground to make sure we dont trip on eachother's feet. A couple of times, we had to move to a new location cause the Guard was looking for us. I guess thats what you get for sneaking into a club.

Suddenly, Tyler grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the dancing people. I quirked my eyebrow. Whats his plan this time? Get me drunk? He led me to the bar, finally letting go of my hand and looking at me. "Ok, whats your plan?" I ask, smiling since I was so confused. He smirks, at me, turning around and talking to the bar tender. I couldnt hear what he was saying, due to the noise in the club, but I knew it was evil. I heard him say the word 'hardest', and I knew right then and there what he was looking for.

Tyler payed the bar tender and turned around with a glass in his hand. I stared at the bubbling luiquid for a while, contemplating on what it was. I guess I was right..he is gonna get me drunk. "Hey Y/n" He said, waving the drink around slowly to snap me out of my daze. I give him a sarcastic look, "I dont wanna get drunk tonight" Tyler rolls his eyes, not wanting that answer. Suddenly, he grabs my waist, pulling me close to him. I lay my head back, giggling, "Joseph, what has gotten into y-". He puts the drink to my lips, making me open them and take in the alcohol. It tasted sweet, strong, sour, pretty much all of the flavors I could think of, I was tasting.

He sat me back up and took the drink away from my lips. "Tyler, what was that?" I ask, whiping them. He giggles, "Oh, it was nothing. Just the strongest drink they had on the menu" He put the glass down on the bar table. I raise my eyebrows at him, "Joseph, Im a light-weight. That drinks' gonna get me hammered" I say, lightly pushing him. "Thats the point" He chuckles, adding a wink. Damnit, why did I agree to go to a club with him? I already felt the alcohol rush through my veins, brushing up againts every cell. "Come on, Y/n/n. Lets get back on the dance floor" He cheers, grabbing my hand and leading me back into the crowd.

*TIME SKIP Brought to you by Wet Ones (keeping things wet since 1988)*

I was suprised that I didnt get as drunk as Tyler intended to. In fact, I was pretty sober enough to solve a math equation. Funny how Tyler wanted me to get drunk, and he was the one who got intoxicated.

We were grooving next to a barricade that blocked off a private room. I held my phone up over my head as Tyler stood behind me. I started recording us dancing, just to save the memory. I swayed my hips to the beat, giggling at how goofy I was. I held the phone at the tip of my fingers, trying to get him and I in one shot. Accidently, I dropped it behind the barricaded. I groaned bending over the barricade. I was so close to reaching it, but my arm wasnt long enough. I, stupidly, went farther over the barricade, finally reaching my phone. Suddenly, I felt hands on my hips, pulling me back. I began to squirm, trying to make the hands release me, but I only turn around to see Tyler. He had a look of stone as an expression. He almost looked...mad?

He let go of my hips, suddenly grabbing my hand. He started making his way out of the club, dragging me towards the exit. "Tyler? What is it?" I ask, trying free my hand, but his grip only gets tighter. What has gotten into him? We storm out of the club, his face still stone cold.

The rest of our little walk was a blurr. No talking, just silence and some of the crickets chirping around us. It was an awkward silence, him still holding my wrist, but not as tightly as before, and his face as serious as before. Was it something I did? What if he just drops me home and I never speak to him again? What did I do to diserve this? A million of questions and concerns filled my mind, making my heart beat sprint faster.

Before I knew it, I was at Tyler's house, in his room, on his bed. He paced around the room, staring at the posters around the area. The silence was unbarable. I hid my face in my palms, thinking of what to say to him or what to do. I quickly stand up from the bed, looking over to him; he looked back. "Tyler, I- Tell me whats wrong? Was it something I did? What-" I start to say, but was cut off by a kiss.

I was suprised at first, being taken off cause the gesture was so out of place, but after a couple seconds, I kissed back. The make out was over all rough; he grabbed the sides of my head, pulling us deeper into kiss. I felt him push forward, making me back up untill I hit the wall. He moved his hands down the the sides of my neck, holding it gently. His thumb brushed across an area that made me jump a little. I felt him smirk againts my lips, moving his mouth down from mine, to my jawline. He nibbled and sucked on my jaw. I silently moaned, placing my hand on his shoulder. I bit my lip, trying to quiet myself down so I wasnt too loud.

"Y/n, you have no idea how long I have wanted this" He huffed againts my jaw, putting my skin between his teeth. He brough his head back up, locking his eyes with mine. "Your so beautiful, baby" He groans, kissing me roughly. I moaned into the kiss, trying to match his movements. "The way you...brushed your perfect...little ass againts me" He whispers between kisses. He brough his hand up and cupped my ear, rubbing my lobe gently. "And I..." He groaned. "Do not share" He put his index finger againts my lip. I faintly smirked, bringing out my tounge and licking the skin. Tyler's eyes fluttered closed, biting his lip. "Your such a tease, Y/n" He says through gritted teeth.

He pulled out his finger, wiping it clean on his shirt. I giggled softly, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He looked at me with the same cold expression he had before, making a chill run up and down my back. He stepped closer to me, even though we were already face to face. He slid his hands around my waste; anywhere and everywhere he touched made a trail of warmth. I eyeballed his hand, which was making its way up my cut off sweater. I held my hands behind my back, holding my hand with the other. I look up to his beautifle face, admiring it. He smirks, looking up to me and locking eyes. I couldnt take it anymore. I instantly cupped his face with my hands, kissing him. I needed more of him, God he was perfect...

We went back in the past; him bringing his hand up and cupping it around my neck, brushing his thumb across the same area that made me jump. Tyler smirked againts my lips, slowly inching his way down to my jawline, like before. He didnt stay at my jawbone for long, because before I knew it, he was going down on my neck, sucking the skin and nibbling on it. I let out a groan, biting my lip and trying to keep myself quiet. "My parents arnt home....be as loud as you want, babygirl" He said between bites and kisses againts my neck, suddenly finding my sweet spot with a pinch. I let out a moan, following his information. He snickerd againts my neck, sucking the spot harder, making a hickey form. I gently hold on to his head, not wanting him to stop.

Once he was satisfied with the small purple bruise on my neck, he departured from my neck with a slight pop. He locks a gaze with me, his eyes reading lust. We bothed giggled. He grabbed my waist, ordering my to jump. I do as told, wrapping my legs around his waste and arms around his neck. I look down at him, rubbing my nose againts his. He smiles his cute smile, flashing his teeth. While he started walking towards the bed, I took matters into my own hands and took off my crop top. He tossed me onto the bed, watching me bounce up and down the springs. He didnt hesitate to jump onto to my right away, laying over me and continuing out make out session.

Tyler tangled his hands in my hair as I did the same to him, gripping the sides of his hips with my legs as he began to slowly grind on me. He reattached his lips to mine, kissing with force. He slid his tongue into my mouth without permission, making me relize he liked his dominance. Teasingly, I bit his tongue gently, just to see his reaction. He smiled againts my lips, "Better watch it, doll." Oh, Damn. That name gave me chills up and down my back. He must have noticed my goosebumps, because he smirked and started rubbing my prickled arm gently. "You like that name, dont you doll" I bit my lip, nodding intensly to try to shake away another chill. He chuckled darkly, returning his attention back to lips, then neck.

He inched his way down to my jawline, sucking and nibbling on the skin. I let out a breath, feeling the tension slip away. Damn, hes good at this. "Do me a favor and take this shirt off before I rip it off" He orders, feeling the material of my cut off sweater. "Its actually a crop top, but ok" I reply with a bitchy attitude, smirking as I take off my crop. "I said watch it, doll. I dont wanna gag you now" He warned, suddenly grabbing my chin and jerked it so I was facing him. "You got it?" He asks, using his tiny thumb (sorry not sorry) to carress my bottom lip. I nod slowly, gulping down the lump in my throat. "Answer me verbally" He barks, holding my chin tighter. "Yes, daddy" I answer, smirking internally. I can tell he is taken back by this, due to the squint in his eyes. "What did you say?" He asks, smiling a little. "Yes, daddy" I repeat, biting down on his thumb a little. "Damn, this is gonna be fun" He says, removing his hand from my chin and pushing me back down on the bed.

He continues his kissing trails, down from my lower neck, to my belly button, not missing a beat or even hesitating. I arch my back a little, letting my hands roam blindly behind me, starting to try and unhook my bra. I reach my goal, throwing my black lace bra aside. He glances at the thrown peice of clothing, only to put his attention to me. "Jeez, your perfect" He says, biting his lip as he reaches hands out forward to touch my breasts. One of his fingers trace my nipple, making it harden quickly and I gasp. He snickers darkly, finally kneading both of my breasts gently. I let out a breath of relazation as Tyler kneads both of my tits, letting my eyes flutter closed. Suddenly, I feel a wetness on my left one, making me relize he has attached his mouth to it. I let out a soft moan, feeling him nibble and suck on the sensitive skin. With the other hand on my right breast, he used his thumb to circle over the nipple, making it harder than I thought it could ever be. I groan in fustration. Tyler gotta take his old sweet time, dont he?

He finally left my chest, looking over my breasts to see his work. I look down, noticing not one, but several bruises scattered all over the area. I could see the proudness in his eyes, his lips spreading with satistfactory. I giggled at him, moving hair away from my face. He pushes me on the chest, making me lay back down. I do as told, making sure im comfortable, since I know I wont be leaving this position anytime soon.

He starts off where he left off; circling kisses around my belly button to tease me. I hum, licking my lips then biting them. He finally answered my prayers, and continued his trail of kisses downward, heading towards my clothed pelvis. I wiggled slightly, letting him know I was getting sick of his teasing. He smirked, "Patience, doll" He said, toying with the edge of my shorts. I groaned in fustration, and somewhat pleasure. The feeling of Tyler Joseph touching me this way felt almost, illegal, which turned me on more. He was an illegal boy.

He started tugging down my jeans, trying to slide them off. I lifted my hips upward, helping him take them off. He reached his goal and threw the shorts to Narnia. "The grand prize" He mutters, poking at my entrance through my panties. I giggle, moaning slightly at the feeling.

He teases my clothed access point with his middle finger. "Are you gonna be all nice and wet for me, doll?" He asks, glancing up to me. If he keeps on playing with this Doll kink I have, I might just cum at his words. Suddenly, slides a finger in between my folds, slightly moving my panties out of the way. We both gasp; him surprised of how wet I am and me incredibly horny. "D-drenched" He stuttered, chuckling darkly as he began to slowly curl them. I tangle my hands in my hair, my mouth wide open as I take in a deep breath. Letting out a moan, I scrunch my face up. I havent felt like this in a long time, I forgot what it was like to have someone else's fingers in me!

He continued to hook his middle didget, untill I was panting and moaning his name. "Oh my God, Daddy, shit!" I practically scream, removing my hands from my hair and gripping the sheets. I could see the smirk poking out of his mouth, curling his finger more. I bit my lip and gripped the sheets harder untill my knuckles were white, the skin on my lips breaking away from my teeth, and my eyes squinting shut. I didnt want to be too loud, thinking the neighbors would come over and ruin the fun. "I dont hear you crying out for me, doll. I know you got it in you" He suddenly, some how, thrusts his finger deeper, making me moan out his nickname. Tyler must have gotten an idea, because he uncurled his finger, and started to thrust his middle digit in and out at a moderate pace. I loosened the grip I had on the sheets, still feeling pleasurable, but somewhat relaxed.

He suddenly took out his finger, leaving me cold. He leaned over me, ordering me to open my mouth. I obeyed, opening it wide. He stuck his wet finger into my mouth, almost all the way down to my throat. I twirl my tongue around it, humming. His eyes fluttered shut, him mouthing the word 'Fuck'. "Damn, I love you, dollface" He said, replacing his digit with his mouth. He was rough and needy in the kiss; my own were probably hungry and begging.

He broke away from the kiss, kneeling back down in front of me. He toyed with the stretchy part of my panties, twisting and feeling the lacey material. I hummed, "Please", barley above a whisper. "Please what?" He asked sharply, scratching my hip bone as he continued to fondle with my underwear. I whimpered, "Please daddy" He smirks at how much control he has over me. Finally, he begins to slide my lingerie down, taking his good old sweet time. I lift my hips slightly as the material skates across my hips, exposing my woman hood. I close my legs as I feel the mixture of Tyler's breathing, and the rush of cold air. Trying to regain the moment, I use my toe to point to where he should throw my lingerie. He snickers, throwing it to where I pointed. "Dont be shy, love" He says in a relaxing tone, resting his hands on my knees. I nodded, letting him spread my legs apart. He let my legs fall to my sides, me finally relaxing, knowing Tyler wont judge. "How can you be shy when you have such a beautiful pussy?" He says, gently rubbing his hand over the wetness thats in my thighs. I choke out a quiet moan, hanging my head back.

Suddenly, he slides 2 fingers in, making me gasp and moan in surprise. It could have been an accident from how wet I was. Either way, he started thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, my body shriveled from pleasure. I heard the sloshiness sound between my thighs as he picked up the pace, him whispering and praising me for how good and obediant I was. I felt the pooling in my stomach increase in intensity as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out. "Oh my God, Fucking hell-Im so close!" I moan out, gripping the sheets roughly. Tyler smirks, picking up his other hand and placing it on my clit, rubbing it hard. I scrunch my face up, preparing for my orgasm.

As time progresses and his fingers continue, I was a moaning mess; hair in my face, lipstick smudged from Tyler's passionate kisses, and just a something you would expect a girl to look like in a porno. He took his fingers off my clit, putting them to his side. Just as I was about to cum, his digits made a 'come hither' motion inside me, making me lose myself and fall over the edge. I fell hard, my body quaking with pleasure as Tyler's fingers didnt slow down. It was like I was falling from the sky, and I wasnt even close to the ground. The corners of my eyes faded to a foggy eroma as I scrunch my eyes and let out the biggest pornographic moan I could make.

I came down from my high, hitting the ground as he pulled out his fingers. Unexpectantly, he brought his tongue down on my folds, giving it a long and slow lick, adding overstimulation. I moaned, what almost seemed like a cry, in pleasure, gripping the sheets for some support. He tried to stay away from my clit, knowing I was already overstimulated enough. I could tell Tyler enjoyed my juices, from the noise he created, vibrating againts my womanhood; making me moan louder. He gave one last lick, making sure to get my clit before lifting his head up. He ran a finger up my folds, collecting the wetness onto his finger. I whimpered, biting my lip. He fit his digit into his mouth, letting his eyes flutter close at the taste. He groaned, taking out his finger with a pop, "You taste amazing-almost like peaches covered in honey" He informed, leaning over me. I giggled as he placed his red, swollen lips onto mine. Letting him gain entrance into my mouth, I tasted myself on his tongue, making the experience even more thrilling.

He pulled away, ordering me to sit on the edge of the bed. I do as told, crawling over to the edge as I watch his sit down on the bed, kicking his shoes off. He layed againts the frame of crib as he started to unbuckle his belt. I shoo his hand away, taking matters into my own palms. He smiled, putting his hands down on his sides. Once I figured out how to unbuckle his sash, I start tugging them down, Tyler lifting his hips up to help me. I threw them to WhoVille blindly, staring at the growing bulge that is still clothed; but not for long.

I tease the erection with my hand, squeezing and feeling it up and down. He groaned in pleasure, tilting his head back so it hit the wall. I smirked up to him, snaking a hand into his boxers and feeling his cock. I recieved a gasp from him, probably cause my hands were a little warm, but still gave him pleasure. With my other hand, I slid down his briefs with no trouble, throwing them somewhere in the room. I took my hand off of his shaft and spat on it, soon returning my palm to it. I began to slowly pump it, recieving low groans and moans. I really want to tease him...but would he approve? Fuck it, im gonna do it. I use my index finger to gently rub the slit of hit cock, moving it downward from the shaft to the end. "Stop teasing me doll, you wont like the outcome" He growls, biting his lip. I giggle, staring at the beads of pre cum oozing out of the slit.

I lifted my head up so it was in birds eye view of his dick. Suddenly, I felt a hand snake through my hair, pulling it out of my face. I glance up and smile as I began to slowly ease my head down on to the bell like tip. I swirled my tongue around the point of it, using my other hand to pump what I didnt have in my mouth. Tyler groaned in satisfactory, letting his eyes close. "I said, stop teasing" He ordered, putting pressure on the back of my head. I slowly slid my mouth down his shaft, him still pushing my head down. I hallowed my cheeks and slacked my jaw, giving him full power of my mouth. His grip on my hair tightens as he begins to bob my head up and down, the wetness of my mouth sloshing with each bob. He gives an 'Ah Fuck', paired with a strangled groan; by far the best noise I heard come out of his swollen mouth.

After a couple of bobs, I figured he wanted to take matters into his own hands, because he starting thrusting his hips up; or in other words, fucking my mouth. A couple of times, I felt his tip rub the back of my throat, causing me to gag. I moaned around his cock, blinking away tears. "Im almost finished with you doll, just a little bit longer" He explained, his thrusts growing faster and harsher. I nodded, gripping the bed sheets to prepare. I felt his cock twitch in my throat, expecting him to be pushed over the edge; but I thought wrong. He instantly stopped, pulling me off of his throbbing cock with a pop. I looked at him with confusion, rubbing my eyes that were filled with tears, "But you didnt cum yet" I said, making it almost sound like a question. He nodded, "Waiting is the best part. And Id rather cum in that sweet little pussy of yours anyway" He says, adding a wink. I blush intensly, moving my face away from his crotch.

Tyler orders me to take is place, laying my head on the pillows. I do as told, watching him remove his shirt and socks. Once he was out of the way, I sit back, placing my head on a pillow and putting one in the small of my back. He climbed on top of me, letting me take a moment to scan his torso; Tan chest, ink painted into his skin, and the skinny, but muscular, torso of his. He took a grip onto his shaft, teasing my folds with it, making sure it was wet enough. I let out a gasp, moaning slightly. "Are you ready, doll?" He asks, laying his face down in the crew of my neck. "Y-yes" I choke out, biting my lip in anticipation. Immediatly, he thrusted his cock into my enterance, letting out a groan. I nearly drew blood from my lip I was biting so hard. I didnt know he was that big. I sucked his dick, how did I not know?! I whimpered, then moaning; I have never felt so full in my life. I saw Tyler struggling over me, fighting the urge to move. I turned my head, facing over to his ear, "Destroy me" I whispered, smirking internally. His control breaks, he begins to slam into me rapidly, building an incredible rythem that took away my breath. The muscles in his arms stand out above me, holding himself over me, angling each thrust to hit that one spot inside of me that brought me to life earlier.

"Holy, T-tyler!" I scream, wrapping my arms around him, trying to find support for the massive sex we were having. Suddenly, he grabbed the base of my throat, pressing down hard. "What did you say?" He asks harshly, making his thrusts deeper and harder. I grab his wrist, moving it up so it held at the mid of my throat. He smirked, finding a new kink I had. Tyler Joseph holding my throat like this was almost illegal, like taboo; that turned me on more. He answered my wishes, squeezing the middle tighter. "D-daddy!" I corrected in a strangled moan, throwing my head back in pleasure. He was fucking me with such force that the bed frame knocked againts the wall with each thrust. Once again, I felt the pooling in my stomach stirr up. I clenched around him, letting out a pornographic moan. "Close already doll? Pathetic" He spat, saliva sprayed onto my chest, dripping down over my breasts. "Im-oh my God, Im so close!" I scream. He smirked, suddenly slowing down his thrusts. I let out a sigh, feeling relaxed.

He threw the pillow that was under my back to the side, replacing it with his hands. He picked me up, his cock sliding out of me with a pop. He picked me up as I wrapped my legs around him. He carried me to a local wall, nearly slamming me againts it. He placed his forarm over my throat, holding me inplace againts the wall. "Get ready to start screaming" He simply said, sliding back into me. I let out a groan, my wishes being fuffiled with his raging cock. He instantly started fucking me againts the wall. This position was amazing, he was able to get all the places he couldnt have gotten before. My eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure raking through my body; it hurt so much, but damn I needed this from Tyler Robert Joseph. "I-Im gonna cum, oh fucking HELL!" I scream, seeing black spots appear infront of me as I open my eyes. "Im not fucking done with you just yet, hold it in" He barks, some how fucking me faster. I moaned as I hit my head againts the wall, pleasure struckin. I held onto my orgasm, trying not to let it slip out of my clutch, but with the force Tyler was fucking me at, and the moans and groans coming from his mouth let me loose it.

I didnt have time to warn him that I was about to cum, it just happened. I rolled my eyes back into my head as I clenched around his cock. I moan in pure ecstasy as I cum around his throbbing shaft, closing my eyes tightly. "Since you like to cum without my permission, your gonna c-cum again" He spat, snaking a hand between us and rubbing my clit. I gasped, letting out the loudest pornagraphic moan I could let out. I grabbed the wrist that was rubbing my clit, scrunching my face up and panting histeracally. He smirked and started rubbing faster anyway. I used my other hand to try and push him away; the pleasure was over whelming my body. "Ah ah no you dont" He says, making his forearm push harder on my throat. I lost my oxygen, losing my voice and my energy, closing my eyes. "D-daddy, F-fu-cking he-ll!" I choke out, whimpering. "Hold on, im almost there" He warns, letting his mouth gape open. "Look at me, dollface" He says, removing his hand from my clit and cupping it to my chin. "Let me see those pretty eyes" He says, biting his lip. I open my eyes, staring into his own. They where dialated, the cocoa color ablaze. He panted out a moan, mouth gaping. "Oh-oh, fucking-" He choked out as he spilled into me. His cock twitched and throbbed, triggering my 3rd orgasm. I milked his cock with my convulsing walls, both of us pleasure struckin and talking like we were in a pornographic film. Curses and moans and groans fell from both of our mouths as we rode out our orgasms till we were both too sensitive to continue on.

Tyler leaned his forehead against mine, both of us still out of breath. We shared a laugh at how shook we were. "I cant move" I whisper out, my voice a little horse from my screaming and moaning earlier. "I dont want to move" I add, letting out a sigh. "Me either, Y/n" He says, his voice deep. "I could keep you like this all day and night and not get sick of it" He says, moving away from the wall slowly. I wrap my arms around him for support as he starts to walk back to the bed.

With all the energy he had left, he carefully laid me down on one side; using all of his strength to limp to the other. He plopped down onto the bed, sprawling out. We both inhaled and exhaled deeply, turning our heads to look at each other. "Should I walk you to your house?" He asks, holding out a hand to my cheek, rubbing the skin. I smile faintly, "Ill make up some excuse that I needed some alone time or something-I dont know" I shrug weakly. He smiles his cute smile, the one that was near and dear to his heart. "Im suggesting you wanna sleep over here?" He says, getting under the bed covers. I join with him, "Is that alright with you?" I ask in a sarcastic tone, grinning like a goofball. "Does a piano have a G note?" He says sarcastically. "Ill take that as a yes" I answer, cuddling up to him. He wraps his arm around me, my head laying on his inked chest. "Night, Joseph" I say, only above a whisper. "Night, Doll" ............. I open my eyes to rays of sunshine displayed on the ends of the bed. I feel Tyler playing with my hair, stroking my forehead and running his hands through strands. "Good morning" I whisper, smiling faintly. "Mornin'" He says, turning me so im facing him. We look into our eyes for a little bit; not moving or speaking. All of the sudden, we hear steps from outside the door. Our eyes opened in shock, his big brown pupils shaking in terror of what was about to happen. Neither of us moved, only stared. The door suddenly opened, revealing the one and only, Kelly Joseph. "Tyler, honey! Breakfast is re-TYLER! YOUR IN BIG TROUBLE MISTER!"

(I hope you enjoyed the laughs and pleasures and pains my fanfic has brought to you. Sometimes its nice to have an intense sex dream with Tyler Joseph. But truly, I hope Tyler doesn't read this lol. But anyway, I hope you liked it and cya next time :D)

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kaismontyr · 8 years ago

Text

To Dust

The sacrifice was not in vain. As Kais's team escaped to the Cadre headquarters, he leapt on top of the Dark Eldar Raider with such downward force that the nose crashed into the ashen rubble of what was a Tau colony prefab wall. As the vehicle pivoted and crashed down on top of himself and the crew on board, Kais was overtaken with the darkness of unconsciousness. The first few days of imprisonment were a blurr to his memory. The lack of his gear and the pains of the blades were the only major aspects of that time that he could recall. Naked. Beaten. Stabbed. Shot. All healed painfully. Like he was being graded for pain. That he could handle. The pens, cages and holding areas he remembered clearly from that point on. He was on a planet. A slave. As were many others around him. Some hated him. Some were indifferent. Few had seen Tau before. Without any tools or weapons capable of formatting a solo escape, he did the next best thing. He talked, he trained and he healed. A soldier amongst largely civilian slaves was a blessing and a curse. Those he helped appreciated his efforts. But when it came to the arena... the emotional conflict for everyone involved would be an everlasting scar. As per normal combat doctrine for Tau, Kais had little melee training. When it came to fending for himself he stayed hidden as best he could until he could scavenge a ranged weapon of some sort. Orks were a common enemy. The crowds loved the difference in size, tactics and intelligence. Kais lost many friends to them, their rage and bloodthirsty nature causing irreparable damage to most who got in their way. This was what broke Kais. As much as he tried, as much wisdom and learning he could impart on his fellow victims and how much he tried to heal them, they died. He never gave up, even though with each broken human, dead Eldar or even astartes scout overcome by numbers broke his heart into more pieces. The weeks turned to months. His pain, always kept inside, started to change him. Aggression in the arena increased. Talking decreased. He became more withdrawn. And even though he still suffered the physical pain of combat and the emotional pain of losing friends, he knew that only by working together would he possibly survive. His leg eventually broke. Too long without proper maintenance turned it from a boon to an over complex, heavy lump. That made him less interesting to the audience. Who would want to watch the cripple lose against their opponent so quickly? It does not contain enough pain to whet their appetite. He was useless. And because of that, the others panicked when alone. The battles became to hard to win for his allies. A smaller percentage of loss gave way to a majority. To Kais this was horrific. To the Dark Eldar, it was disappointing. They ordered the camp to be taken away to be used as playthings in exchange for more combatants. They were herded like livestock onto the warped cargo vessel and sent into the warp to find their buyer. Kais stood silent, arms bound but ready. This was their best chance to escape. No towers or patrols to watch over them, just some lesser guards to keep the door closed. The sudden klaxons, lights and running of men about the vessel was unexpected. He could hear the shrill whips of the corrupted Eldar weaponry as well as... Imperial solid projectile weapons? Power fluctuated as stray shots shredded different junction boxes. A single second of lost power allowed Kais the chance to bust the cage door in and strangle the distracted guard to death, feeling bones and soft structures crumble beneath his tormented strength. The voidsmen found Kais over the fresh corpse and looked towards the prisoners. Many were dead, dying or too mad to realise that they had the opportunity to escape. As for Kais, he just lifted his bound hands in a plea for freedom, no words coming to mind. Tentatively, a voidsmen cut the bonds. Face unchanged Kais pointed at the shotgun they each had. He wanted one. The voidsmen were about to say no when Kais simply walked by and picked up one shotgun and pouches of ammo from a fallen human. He also took the dog tags and dropped them into the hand of the voidsman who freed him. Kais was no direct threat to them. But his condition left him unstable in their eyes. Use for help clear the ship, then lock away. Only a handful of Kais's friends and comrades were alive or able to fight. Some had foresaken the rotten food, which Kais had not. Others had foresaken the futility of fighting, which Kais had not. Pure desire to live outside of the almost year long torture and blood sports and his training kept him alive. Now armed, he felt more like himself again. He waved for his friends to follow as he cleared his way through the ship towards the engines, the hub of all defences and the easiest way to destroy this death ship. He showed no mercy, even to those surrendering. Anyone in that armour was given a shotgun shell to the chest. The engine room was packed with all manner of soldiers, taking shots and hurling grenades between eachother. Kais had no time for this. He simply smashed the coolant regulator with his rifle, giving him terrible frostbite on his arm and chest. He didn't feel a thing. Couldn't. He was too closed off. His task done, he let the voidsmen lead him and the rest to the ships back to the Hyperion Dawn. He looked at the name. They saved him. Whether they killed him or not he didn't care. He would die with a weapon in hand having killed his enemy. The voidsmen on board attempted to take the shotgun away. It took three to pry it away from his fingers. As a prisoner, and an obviously dangerous but not hostile one, Kais was laid up in a locked, comfortable room. Kais had now shut down. No stimuli would rouse him from his blank stare. He had lived, when so many had not. He had no more reason to be alive than them. They were younger, smarter, better than him. Yet he lived. The entire trip he would not eat, drink or sleep. The doctor could not do anything but force sedatives. Not even when left on the border of Tau space did he change his condition until he was greeted by his own race. A trip home, two months of psychiatric evaluation and care, and a swift discharge into active duty once more. The Empire was desperate for experienced members right now. As Kais stood by his old Orca, he stared for about ten minutes before walking in. His armour was there. His gear. All untouched. The drones were asleep on standby. It was dreamlike. He did not know what to do. He picked up his Pathfinder chest plate and tried to fit on. It didn't. He tried the greaves, the gauntlets, anything. No. He raged. Everything was tossed aside. The clattering and smashing could be heard all over the docking bay. His team stood outside solemnly. For the first time in Kais's life... he sat down and cried.

#short story #kais is a broken boy #to dust

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verdigrisprowl · 8 years ago

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May 31 Blurr’s Horror Stream - Villanos & The Lego Batman Movie

Multiple people objected strenuously to Starscream’s assertion that Megatron could be his nemesis, despite the fact that they’re on the same side and Megatron obviously doesn’t see Starscream as his nemesis. Two different pairs of people went “I’d be honored to have you as a nemesis.” “Aww~” Bevel officially signed on with Blurr’s crew. Prowl showed up in a foul mood, stayed in a foul mood, and left in a foul mood.

Missed the start.

ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy sticks where he is, but Rumble runs over to hang out.* B l u r r: / shoves the stuff off his couch and just slouches / ItsyBitsySpyers: //I love that line.// B l u r r: Which line? Whirl: *he is welcome, as always, to join* B l u r r: [[ Kay is everyone ready, then? Cause yall gotta read subtitles for a minute ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: //The shoe thing.// B l u r r: Ah... yes. Classic line. Sunstreaker: [[ ready ]] FakeProwl: ((still ready)) Whirl: *gets re-settled* Well, you've got my number, Teach. B l u r r: Mmhm... I know. Bevel: [[still ready Whirl: ((and ye)) B l u r r: [[ kay im gonna assumeeveryone's ready then ]] B l u r r: *everyone else ]] B l u r r: Anyway, being back on Earth connected me with a ton of new scrap to watch. So. B l u r r: [[ this cartoon is the only thing i want to see on tv for months tbh. ]] Whirl: *snorts* Whirl: Oh, hey. Brainstorm made one of those. Starscream: ((This is great ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave needs that.* Whirl: ((I like their little mook)) B l u r r: / he likes it because it reminds him of him and Blaster / Starscream: hehehe B l u r r: [[ and daaas it. ]] FakeProwl: ((i'm love)) Starscream: ((what's it called B l u r r: [[ That's all we have so far anyway. But *lifts leggie* is my new cartoon ]] B l u r r: [[ Villanos ]] Bevel: [[that looks awesome FakeProwl: ((they're gonna start making full episodes soon?)) B l u r r: [[ yeah. In Mexico. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((a little frantic but i think i would watch it)) FakeProwl: ((can't wait)) Whirl: ((not something I'd watch on my own, but seems all right enough)) B l u r r: [[ Tbh the english version sucks ]] B l u r r: [[ Black Hat sounds boring ]] B l u r r: [[ he sounds better in spanish. And Flug sounds better in spanish too ]] FakeProwl: ((it might be frantic because right now they're just making mid-commercial mini episodes?)) Starscream: ((was that spanish? B l u r r: yeah ]] B l u r r: [[ yeah, theyre minisodes between commercials ]] B l u r r: [[ like bumps. The longer episodes will be better ]] Bevel: [[hopefully it's scheduling isn't as weird as SU Starscream: ((I understood a surprising amount, I speak Italian B l u r r: [[ depends on where it's gonna fit on the US lineup ]] B l u r r: [[ the lineup in Mexico is relying on Villanos, apparently, to revive Cartoon Network ]] B l u r r: [[ and since it's a show about the villains, they think it'll work out well enough ]] Whirl: ((hopefully it does well there!)) B l u r r: god i hope so cause i love it ]] FakeProwl: ((it's fun!! I wish it well)) Tarantulas: (( crosses ALL the fingers FakeProwl: ((I like all the characters. Except the bear, but I can put up with a derpy sidekick animal.)) B l u r r: the only one I don't like is Dementia because she's the typical "in love with the villain" type ]] Sunstreaker: [[ i love the bear. him cute. ]] Whirl: ((I like the mook!)) B l u r r: but apparently the longer episodes will make her more fleshed out ]] Whirl: ((everyone else is kinda blah, but I have a weakness for mooks)) Bevel: [[i liked dementia until she pulled the rawr thing with the statue B l u r r: LOL the bear is a failed experiment on Black Hat's part. And Flug. ]] FakeProwl: ((she could be either really good or really bad, but I tend to give the benefit of the doubt to obsessively-in-love characters.)) Whirl: ((Yes, Flug)) B l u r r: [[ SO its like his messy child ]] Whirl: ((hence the airplane shirt)) B l u r r: [[ anyway. Y'all ready for this lego thing? ]] FakeProwl: ((ye!!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((*SLAMS HANDS DOWN* YES)) Sunstreaker: [[ 5.0.5. I even like the bear's name ]] B l u r r: [[ BUT im glad u guys like my dumb cartoon choice ]] Sunstreaker: [[ i like everything about the beb ]] Whirl: ((YEE LEGO BATMAN)) Bevel: [[yes yes definitely yes ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble frowns. Is that true? Why isn't Crosscut here?* Whirl: *snorts* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He would know.* B l u r r: / leans back on couch and kcks pedes up / ItsyBitsySpyers: //Frag's an ab?// B l u r r: Muscles. Whirl: Those stomach bumps. *pats his own bump-less stomach* Whirl: Heh, slick. Of course they took a chopper. ItsyBitsySpyers: *What a lovely face.* Whirl: ((this is so great already)) FakeProwl: ((this is the best joker)) B l u r r: [[ my favorite joker ]] Bevel: *pats stomach, metal plates probably don't count as abs but she has like five of them* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ohhhh! Okay! I remember this Batman fragger. TC showed this stuff, yeah?// ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THINK SO.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: //...He got enough henchmen?// B l u r r: [[ they really ARE all real, too ]] B l u r r: theyre all canon characters ]] Whirl: ((YEP)) Whirl: ((i was sitting there going "ok when they gonna say calendr man")) Starscream: Humans come up with the strangest names for themselves Whirl: I dunno, I say, if you're gonna do it, do it right. Get as many henchmen as possible, B l u r r: Henchmen are good. Sunstreaker: [[ tag urself i'm condiment king ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pff. If they was real good, he wouldn't need more'n seven.// Starscream: Henchmen are backstabbers Starscream: I would know Whirl: ((Gentleman Ghost)) FakeProwl: ((im the dude with the clock head)) Whirl: ((Clock King!)) Whirl: Well, I mean, you're also YOU. Whirl: Who WOULDN'T wanna backstab you? B l u r r: My crew works together right. No one wants to mutiny. Whirl: ...or Megatron, for that matter. Starscream: I meant that I backstab Megatron ItsyBitsySpyers: \\WHO THE FRAG'S THE CITY PLANNER!?\\ Starscream: I was tolerable once, I was backstabbed one too many times Whirl: No. I can't believe that. Whirl: YOU? Tolerable? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble giggles. A tolerable Starscream.* B l u r r: You? Starscream: Yes really B l u r r: Impossible. Whirl: *places claw dramatically over his chest* B l u r r: Starscream has never been tolerable. Whirl: ((also this is like. GREAT ACTION MOVIE DIRECTING TOO)) Starscream: I wasn't born evil you know ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HAHA!\\ Whirl: SNRK. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh, there's music? Now Soundwave is amused.* Whirl: Anyway--suffice it to say that I don't really believe you, Starscream, and even if you weren't born evil, you WERE born annoying, I'm sure. Starscream: If that's what you want to think Whirl: *snickering louder* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\BRO. WE -GOTTA- GET US SOME MUSIC.\\ Whirl: YES, you two do. Whirl: And a weaponized electric guitar. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Frag yeah.// Bevel: *perks at weaponized guitar* I could totally make that. ItsyBitsySpyers: //...Wait, yeah?// Whirl: Yeah? *looks to her* Starscream: is that... an inuendo ItsyBitsySpyers: ((YOU'RE BREAKING HIS HEART, BATS)) Whirl: Also, that's harsh. Damn, Whirl: That's not how you treat your nemesis. FakeProwl: ((look at his little face)) Whirl: ...also, uh. That bomb. B l u r r: [[ poor joker. ]] Bevel: Yeah! B l u r r: That's not how my nemesis treats me. Whirl: Well, you need to get a better nemesis. Starscream: I wish Megatron treated me that well ItsyBitsySpyers: [[A good nemesis is worthy of respect.]] A long pause. [[Plenty of hatred and loathing. But respect.]] Whirl: You're young--it takes time. I'm sure you'll find that special someone. Whirl: And, hot damn, Sh-- ... Bevel. Whirl: I'd love to see it. B l u r r: I'm not even sure if I have a nemesis... ItsyBitsySpyers: //Seriously. Ya make one 'n I get dibs.// B l u r r: / taps chin / Whirl: If you don't know, then you don't. Bevel: *she is already mentally trying to figure weapon guitar out* Ok. Whirl: Ther4e's nothing quite like that special firsson of homicidal rage, respect, and bloodlust you get when you make a proper nemesis. *sighs* Starscream: For a human that was a pretty impressive flight skills Whirl: ...*frisson damn B l u r r: / frowns/ I wouldn't consider Rodimus worthy of being my nemesis... more like a rival. B l u r r: And a pain in the aft. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\BET I COULD TAKE HIM.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: //Duh. He's meat.// Whirl: Yeah, a rival is not a nemesis. Starscream: Megatron's an awful nemesis, I need to find a better one Whirl: He's not a nemesis. He's your boss. Whirl: Or, well, was, I guess. Starscream: He is so Whirl: It's, like... you can't be someone's nemesis if you're THEIR punching bag. B l u r r: ... true. Starscream: I almost killed him B l u r r: That doesn't mean anything. B l u r r: That just means you didn't succeed in murder. Starscream: I took over from him three times, every time I did a better job than he did Whirl: Starscream, that's just... depressing. Whirl: You need to go get yourself a nemesis. FakeProwl: ((of all the nights for prowl to not be here)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((*makes grabbyhands at him*)) B l u r r: I want one... B l u r r: / taps chinplate/ But, not sure who's worthy enough Whirl: Like I said, Blurr--you're young. Whirl: And you're tough. You've got nemesis potential for someone else, easy. FakeProwl: ((he'd be clawing at his seat hearing starscream talk about megatron being nemesis and whirl saying starscream needs a proper one)) B l u r r: /rolls optic / I doubt it. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((*DRAGS HIM OVER i say*)) Starscream: It's my life's mission to get rid of him, if that isn't a nemesis what is? Whirl: ((LORD. POOR PROWL)) B l u r r: No one assumes I'm their nemesis ItsyBitsySpyers: [[There is an entire multiverse of mechs waiting to get on your very last neural net sensor.]] Whirl: ((omfg0) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I LOVE THAT BIT)) B l u r r: [[ yes! ]] FakeProwl: ((this movie is great)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((god i love this *** movie and it only gets better)) B l u r r: [[ it does ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SOUNDS LIKE ME.\\ Whirl: Same, Frenzy. *snrks* Whirl: Also, Starscream, face it--you were his punching bag. B l u r r: Well, how am I supposed to knowif I have a nemesis? B l u r r: Are they going to tell me? Bevel: Snake clowns. *laughs* Whirl: Like I said--you'll KNOW. B l u r r: I doubt that. /crosses arms and sulks/ ItsyBitsySpyers: [[No. They will simply aggravate you more than anything else in the entirety of existence possibly could.]] Whirl: You'll feel it. It's a one-of-a-kind feeling. B l u r r: [[ this is me ]] B l u r r: [[ ME ]] Starscream: ((me Whirl: ((IM DYING0) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((it's true i can confirm)) Bevel: [[tuxedo dress up party is definitely the only way to get me to a party Whirl: *CRACKS UP* ItsyBitsySpyers: ((it puff)) Starscream: I wasn't his punching bag, I'm better than he could ever be Whirl: ((FUC.FG. POLE DANCING)) FakeProwl: ((my cd rack doesn't fall apart)) B l u r r: [[ I LOVE THE VILLAINS ]] B l u r r: ... but I know plenty of people that aggravate me. B l u r r: / flexes claws/ What is it supposed to feel like when you have a nemesis? Whirl: Keep telling yourself that, Starscream. Either way, I'm done talking about your sad, sad life. B l u r r: There's a line of people that want to kill me. Starscream: My life is happy I'll have you know Starscream: ((that's horrible B l u r r: [[ THIS DSBFD ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: //That. It's kinda like that. Only ya wanna slaughter 'em instead.// ItsyBitsySpyers: //So more like... "Yer gonna die in my arms tonight."// _Whirl: Pfft! Bevel: Ha. B l u r r: That sounds weird... _Whirl: Like I said: they make you feel homicidal and weirdly respectful all at once. B l u r r: / scratches helm / I usually think that about a lot of people. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((STATISTIIIIIICS)) B l u r r: / slouches and grumbles/ I'm not gonna find one of those... FakeProwl: ((why did i decide not to bring prowl oh my god)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((IT'S NOT TOO LATE)) _Whirl: Well, maybe not. _Whirl: *shrugs* Certainly not if you mope about it. FakeProwl: ((... yeah ok.)) _Whirl: Be assertive! Seize your nemesis! _Whirl: ((DO IT)) Starscream: Okay if you respect them than Megatron definitely isn't my nemesis B l u r r: I don't have anyone to seize! _Whirl: Not YET. FakeProwl: *... appears late* B l u r r: / VENTS / That's annoying. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Immediate ping. Hello.* _Whirl: I already told you, you're young, I'm not gonna LABOR the point to make you feel better. *deadpan stare* FakeProwl: *he desperately wants a distraction* B l u r r: Young and constantly in a state of extinction FakeProwl: *takes seat and focuses on screen* _Whirl: Like many of us. Starscream: proper ethics pfft Starscream: who needs that _Whirl: See, look how useful an army of henchmen is! B l u r r: [[ i love that he's still a master builder. ]] Starscream: Henchmen are nothing but trouble, watch them mess something u[ Starscream: *up B l u r r: Henchmen are good if you're a great planner. FakeProwl: ((these movies may be nonsense but they have Continuity)) _Whirl: I mean, I can understand how you'd get nothing but bad henchmen if you're working with a dearth of charisma. Bevel: Barbara is kicking all their butts. Awesome. Starscream: I am a good planner, henchmen are nothing but trouble _Whirl: Hey, Ravage is in this movie... ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy nudges Bevel.* \\BETCHA CAN'T DO *THAT*. Bevel: Yeah maybe. *sticks tongue out at Frenzy* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Boy, this sounds familiar* FakeProwl: *it does* Starscream: why is he flirting with everyone FakeProwl: ... What's going on. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Incoming summary and highlight reel?* B l u r r: You're a good planner? FakeProwl: *... oh no. he sympathizes with joker* B l u r r: /snort/ Oh, please. Starscream: yes, I am B l u r r: The henchmen aren't your problem B l u r r: It's your planning. B l u r r: Look, I can get mechs to attack in a uniform formation.. _Whirl: Man, and what a masterful strike. _Whirl: Hitting his nemesis where it hurts. Very clever. Starscream: So can I, when they aren't backstabbing me ItsyBitsySpyers: *LOUD HUFF* B l u r r: If you're a backstabber, then you're expecting too much from henchmen Starscream: true B l u r r: you can't complain about someone backstabbing you. Starscream: Doesn't mean I'm bad at planning though FakeProwl: *the guy with the nemesis who doesn't acknowledge him who surrendered to his nemesis. annnd he's a bad guy. rip.* B l u r r: Sure it does. B l u r r: You backstab because your plans are loose. FakeProwl: *focus on the police commissioner. prowl approves of her completely.* B l u r r: If your plans were truly masterful, then you wouldn't need to backstab Starscream: Megatron is my leader, any act against him would be backstabbing Starscream: technically speaking _Whirl: Oh, wait, you mean--you're STILL his punching bag? _Whirl: *LAUGHS* B l u r r: backstabbing your leader still means you're poor with planning. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[What kind of Greatest Detective doesn't notice a human youngling running around their house for a week.]] _Whirl: He's having a crisis. FakeProwl: Does he call himself that? _Whirl: *snickers* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Yes.]] FakeProwl: He's demonstrably wrong. _Whirl: ((HAHAHA)) FakeProwl: He's got nothing on the police with the— FakeProwl: ... statistics. FakeProwl: *annnnnnd now he's sad* B l u r r: See, now THAT is planning. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[The Barbara human?]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy looks over at his Boss and squints.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave looks down.* [[Don't be ridiculous. You're not expendable.]] _Whirl: Also--not quiet. Not even remotely. *dryly* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy huffs noisily (of course) and folds his arms.* B l u r r: I remember being expendable... /vents/ It was fantastic. FakeProwl: ... Yes. The Barbara human. _Whirl: Life gave ME seatbelt. Starscream: No seatbelts? _Whirl: Or, well, something very like. B l u r r: K-Kyeheheh, what's a seat belt. Starscream: My altmode has seatbelts ItsyBitsySpyers: [[And that is why external docking is superior.]] _Whirl: *sits up, pops the lid of his cockpit, and gestures down to the seating inside* _Whirl: They're in there. Bevel: *could probably make seatbelts if she wanted but why* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble stands up to try to get a look* B l u r r: I don't have seat belts... _Whirl: *shifts to lower his chest so Rumble can see. It's Zori's Former Hiding Spot* B l u r r: Well, I mean, I think I do... B l u r r: I almost strangled a human with 'em ItsyBitsySpyers: //Huh.// *Sits back down.* //We ain't got 'em. Can't nobody wear 'em like Knock Out anyway.// _Whirl: ((KRYPTO)) Bevel: [[ha ha hal B l u r r: [[ im the flash ]] _Whirl: *leans back and snaps his cockpit back* They came with my interior. And... wait, where wre his? ItsyBitsySpyers: //Them neck ones.// Motions with both hands. _Whirl: *pauses and tries to remember* _Whirl: Ohh, wait. Those were seatbelts? Huh. FakeProwl: *... thinks about knock out's neck* FakeProwl: *hmmmm* _Whirl: *tilts his head just the tiniest bit* B l u r r: /shifts/ Well, let me say. I am glad Thundertron isn't my nemesis B l u r r: because that whole slaughter would have been a let down. Starscream: unlimited cookies sounds good Starscream: maybe I should be a vigilante _Whirl: *snickers( _Whirl: I been there. ...maybe not with a dolphin in there. B l u r r: Same. I just got my weapons stripped off me recently. B l u r r: It was awkward... but thrilling. Starscream: I hate being weaponless _Whirl: *sly look* Optimus did it, then? B l u r r: K-Kyeheheh. Yes. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[If only.]] _Whirl: I'm never weaponless. *clicks his claws* Starscream: lucky you B l u r r: Me neither. B l u r r: Always got weapons installed on me. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He's not so sure about the smart part.]] Starscream: I do too, Megatron tended to tear them out _Whirl: Yeah, that's never fun. B l u r r: Well, that sounds like a personal problem. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ain't nobody takin' my weapons off. Not unless they don't like their spark no more// B l u r r: I never let anyone tear mine out. _Whirl: Had the old chest-guns removed a few times, but I'M basically a weapon, guns or no. Bevel: I always have weapons. _Whirl: (9OMG THE GREMLINS)) _Whirl: ((this is greAT) B l u r r: [[ THE DALEKS! ]] FakeProwl: *right. okay. all this talk about police and being a hero is just depressing him more. leans on Soundwave* ItsyBitsySpyers: *...Ah. Yes. This would be a bit of a sting, wouldn't it.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Wraps arm. Well, maybe something in this will give Prowl a better idea than the one he had last time.* _Whirl: I like that eyeball guy. Starscream: The tower just walking away B l u r r: See, now, I want one of those. Starscream: Why is there a release all button _Whirl: ((i'm gonna die)) _Whirl: Sor-on? _Whirl: I like that one. B l u r r: [[ I LOVE THE DALEKS ]] Starscream: hehe Starscream: ((british robots B l u r r: Now THAT is how you get henchmen motivated. _Whirl: He upgraded. Bevel: Sauron is really evil but he got beat by a ring getting thrown into a volcano. FakeProwl: *... very effective* _Whirl: Does that happen in this movie, or...? B l u r r: Don't think so. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Think it already did. He was in jail.// _Whirl: Well, there, he got better! Bevel: It was in a book. And a movie. FakeProwl: *mental note: if he ever needs to take dwon Cybertron, arrange a jailbreak.* B l u r r: It's perfect! /rubs claws together / B l u r r: I love when the villains get the upper claw! B l u r r: I hope he makes that hero grovel at his feet. ItsyBitsySpyers: *...He hopes Prowl does not take THAT advice.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Just whatever the red furred human has to say.* _Whirl: *why not prowl should beatbox* Starscream: We need more shows where the villain wins B l u r r: MM. B l u r r: Naturally. FakeProwl: *prowl would be terrible at beatboxing.* _Whirl: *but it would bring the rest of us joy* ItsyBitsySpyers: *It's strange advice, that's why. Even he wouldn't do it. ... Laserbeak might.* _Whirl: ((movie no why u gotta hurt me like that)) Starscream: lol _Whirl: ((why u gotta give bane that dumb voice)) B l u r r: [[ omg i know ]] _Whirl: That eye guy is just. Too cool. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THE WORM WAS BETTER.\\ _Whirl: ...yeah. _Whirl: The worm was, but I appreciate his whole look. ...and the lava-barfing. FakeProwl: *... rubs helm* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Looks over.* FakeProwl: *buildings getting knocked down. devastator.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @P (txt): ...Noise? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «No. Wanton devastation.» ItsyBitsySpyers: //Your eye don't barf lava, right?// _Whirl: *snickering* B l u r r: It would be an interesting concept... Starscream: thee lightning has impeccable aim ItsyBitsySpyers: @P: (txt): ...Understood. _Whirl: *hand over spark* _Whirl: He was too good for this film.. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Adds mass building destruction to his list of things to be aware of in the future.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //So, I'm jus' sayin'. Good costume for this year.// _Whirl: Hmm? *looks down* Which one? ItsyBitsySpyers: //The tower thing. Or Batguy.// _Whirl: Hmm. *taps the underside of his helm* I dunno exactly how I could pull that off... he _Whirl: s got no limbs. _Whirl: But he DOES have a cool look. B l u r r: Is Batman a hero or villain? B l u r r: He seems like an anti...villain... Starscream: Both B l u r r: but an anti-hero. FakeProwl: *mutters* An idiot. B l u r r: He doesn't seem capable of doing things alone B l u r r: It's not that easy. _Whirl: What about you? Any ideas of your own, from this one? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Quiet huff* B l u r r: Hn? FakeProwl: *"protecting" useful people is a waste of resources that should be better spent protecting everyone else* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble scratches his chin. Soundwave just flicks his hand. If Blurr didn't catch the mutter, it doesn't matter* Starscream: I told Megatron I hated him the first time we met _Whirl: This is a movie about nemeses just as much as it is about anything else. This is great. B l u r r: [[ which mutter because it wasn't clear who it was to >>;; ]] B l u r r: [[ Whirl and Blurr both have one eye >>;;; ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((prowl was muttering about batman i think)) FakeProwl: ((ye)) B l u r r: [[ oh lmao. ]] _Whirl: ((yes!)) B l u r r: [[ im typing an assignment on the side so lmao ]] B l u r r: [[ im lost. ]] B l u r r: Well, I can think of plenty of mechs I hate. B l u r r: / taps chin/ only one that I've told. B l u r r: I usually just kill what annoys me. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It's not just -hate-. They have to be worthy. Capable of foiling as many of your moves as you do of theirs.]] FakeProwl: *... are we talking about nemeses* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Welcome to the party, Prowl* _Whirl: *pauses thoughtfully* You know, some holographic effects could get that eye thing going... B l u r r: /crosses arms/ I suppose I ItsyBitsySpyers: //One of them dinosaur things.// FakeProwl: *rghgh* B l u r r: have had plenty of thorns in my side... _Whirl: Yeah? The... the raptor guy? B l u r r: It sure as frag isn't Starscream. B l u r r: He's not worth any respect. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Yeah. I seen them Park films. They're killer.// _Whirl: Nice. Starscream: This movie is inspiring me to kill Megatron again B l u r r: You haven't even killed him one time. FakeProwl: Oh, for—! Starscream: I sort of did... he came back FakeProwl: You can't be a nemesis with someone on the SAME SIDE as you! FakeProwl: That's not how it works! That's RIDICULOUS. Starscream: Why not B l u r r: You need to learn how to kill people. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Mildly alarmed sitting upright.* B l u r r: I could educate you. It'll be a one time lesson. Starscream: We aren't on the same side ItsyBitsySpyers: *...And now curious leaning. That's an oddly strong feeling.*( _Whirl: Different Starscream, Prowl. B l u r r: [[ night wing!! ]] Starscream: I fight for the Decepticons because I can't be an Autobot, not because I like him FakeProwl: You're fighting for the same goal, aren't you? For the same faction to win? Starscream: My goal is to defeat Megatron _Whirl: ((wait, nix that)) _Whirl: ((thought that was directed at blurr)) B l u r r: [[ is okay. ]] B l u r r: [[ i did too haha ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy cackles about the one time death lesson* B l u r r: / grins at Frenzy/ FakeProwl: That's—ridiculous. YOU'RE ridiculous. That's not how it works. Of all the... Starscream: Why not? It makes perfect sense to me B l u r r: You don't make ANY sense. FakeProwl: That's because you're a moron who doesn't get how nemeses work. B l u r r: Starscream doesn't know how anything works. Starscream: Okay, then how do they work ItsyBitsySpyers: *Yes, do tell. He's quite interested now.* FakeProwl: You. Are. Supposed. To. Be. On. Opposite. Sides. _Whirl: I already TOLD you, Starscream, damn. B l u r r: /vents/ This whole family theme is annoying. Can we go back to the Joker? B l u r r: I like him. _Whirl: I explained it IN DETAIL, how thick can you possibly be? Starscream: We are on opposite sides, he wants to live and I want to kill him B l u r r: Whirl, it's Starscream. FakeProwl: You're on the same faction! B l u r r: It's not your fault he didn't retain anything Starscream: Just because we are on the same side of the war doesn't mean anything _Whirl: You're right, Teach. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave shakes his helm. No wonder his former faction had trouble getting things done.* FakeProwl: *grumbles, sits back, rubs his optics* Bevel: *giggles* B l u r r: [[ B l u r r: * [[ "Im irritating" <-- it me ]] _Whirl: Okay,w e all know, the only appropriate superhero theme is Shoot to Thrill. FakeProwl: *he shouldn't have come tonight* B l u r r: Right? B l u r r: I wonder if we have a theme song as pirates... /taps chin/ Starscream: If Megabutt isn't my nemesis then who is ItsyBitsySpyers: @P: (txt): Starscream: idiot. Ignore. Standard Decepticon rule. Bevel: Bet you could write one. Like Batman did. B l u r r: [[ i love this part ]] _Whirl: *approves of this particular brand of family bonding* _Whirl: *he may or may not be briefly reminded of a dreadful little murdercloud* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Yes. He is.» ItsyBitsySpyers: @P: (txt): Nemesis identity, Prowl's? Insistence suggests experience. B l u r r: / claw to chassis. So romantic / FakeProwl: *.....................* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Awwwwwwww.// Starscream: So much romance Starscream: ew FakeProwl: @Soundwave «None.» _Whirl: I know, right? *delighted* _Whirl: Not ROMANCE, idiot. _Whirl: Nemeses. B l u r r: I want one of those-! ItsyBitsySpyers: *Surprised tilt.* _Whirl: Work for it, Teach. _Whirl: You'll get there. Starscream: Really cause they're talking like people who are in love FakeProwl: *that was a touching nemesis speech, dammit* _Whirl: You just don't understand, Starscream. *shakes his head* Starscream: Don't understand what? B l u r r: Rodimus could have been one of those... but he is an idiot. B l u r r: [[ I CANNOT WITH THE SPANISH ]] B l u r r: [[ every damn time, i laugh ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): None? Not understood. Many worthy qualities. Intelligence, persistence, influence, idealism, evasiveness. Satisfactory kick. FakeProwl: ((... wasn't the Joker one of the "every villain" that Batman promised to send back)) B l u r r: [[ nah ]] B l u r r: [[ they wanted THEIR villains back ]] _Whirl: ((sauron is also sort of still there, albeit... dead ish)) FakeProwl: ((but joker WAS one of their villains. for like fifteen minutes, but still.)) FakeProwl: ((longer than batman was there, and batman assumed HE was supposed to go back too)) B l u r r: [[ idk man fbdhk ]] B l u r r: [[ Joker is weird. ]] _Whirl: That was a damn good movie, Teach. _Whirl: I didn't expect to like that nearly as much. Bevel: Catchy. FakeProwl: *yeah, soundwave, rub it in why don't you.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «None.» ItsyBitsySpyers: @P: (txt): If recognition: failed, all enemies: unworthy. B l u r r: /snerk/ I liked it, too ItsyBitsySpyers: *Was recording that.* _Whirl: *leans backa nd streeetches* _Whirl: Not a bad diversion from horror, not at all. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... Or, I don't meet their standards.» Bevel: That was really fun. B l u r r: Well, stuck on Earth so, I have to come up with something. B l u r r: Besides, it was about villains... sort of. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\F'REAL, I LIKED THAT. LOTSA ACTION. WAY BETTER'N THE QUIZ THING.\\ B l u r r: Kyeheheh. What can I say? I'm good at what I do. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Impossible. Prowl: admirable. Would accept, if beginning circumstances: different. B l u r r: Makes me wonder what type of Nemesis I would have... B l u r r: no one can match me for speed. _Whirl: Sadly, mine is dead. Or, well, sort of. _Whirl: A multiversal versiion of him popped up a while back, but he's gone again. B l u r r: Hnnh. B l u r r: You don't irritate me, but if you did, I would be incredibly grateful if YOU were my nemesis, Whirl. FakeProwl: *oh, that's... actually really flattering.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Jazz will always be the best of them, of course, but he would consider Prowl worth his time. His own could have been, if she'd really dedicated herself. A step above Blaster, or right around there.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... Thank you.» B l u r r: / smirks and pulls some wiring up from his arm / You're fun to fight with. Imagine if we just fought each other all the time. What a thrill. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Dips his helm.* Bevel: *has no nemesis and wouldn't even know where to begin with getting one* _Whirl: Well, damn, Teach. Thanks. _Whirl: *withoiut knowing, he dips his helm at Blurr at very nearly the exact time Soundwave does to prowl* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy looks up at Bevel* B l u r r: / flicks finials and nods / ItsyBitsySpyers: *...................................................* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...NAH. I'D WHOOP YER AFT TOO EASY.\\ _Whirl: Oh, I know I am. *lifts his helm, unabashedly proud* And yeah, you're fast, and that kinetic-thing you've got going is tough to get around... but I bet I could do it. _Whirl: It'd be a hell of a fight. B l u r r: All the time. B l u r r: It would be entertaining. And incredibly thrilling. B l u r r: But, I don't HATE you. So, it doesn't work, does it? ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Humorous reminder: alliance preferred. B l u r r: Even though the respect factor is there. Bevel: *pushes Frenzy over with a grin* Ok, Lil' Bit ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OOF!\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Swings at her arm* Bevel: *laughs* _Whirl: Yeah. Like, the respect factor is there, and the DESIRE to fight--but that's just normal friendship. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Heh. Same.» B l u r r: Mmm... but, we could stil lfight sometimes. B l u r r: If you want to. _Whirl: Ultimately I don't wanna destroy you, y'know? When you have a nemesis, it's like... that's it. That's the perfect moment, even though you don't want it to end. FakeProwl: *Soundwave gunning for him would be... well, not LITERALLY Prowl's worst nightmare—because Prowl's worst nightmare involves Insecticons—but it would be very close.* _Whirl: Gimme a time and a place, Teach, I'm ALWAYS down for a scuffle. B l u r r: Kyeheheheh. Good. B l u r r: /nods helm a little/ Yeah, I get that. I've never met anyone who balances both. Well... maybe... maybe one person. B l u r r: / taps chinplate/ But, he doesn't really think of me that way. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...That is it. That is how you know.]] _Whirl: Hey, it took me millions of years to finally meet Killmaster. _Whirl: And there were a LOT of mecha I really, REALLY, REALLY--*stiffens a bit* REALLY. HATED. B l u r r: I knew a mech that I hated so much, I wanted to kill him, but it was too fun to let him die... _Whirl: ...before him. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[If you think you would regret the manner of their death if it were not by your hands.]] _Whirl: *nods* yep. And when you know that's how they feel, too. B l u r r: oh, well... I'm pretty sure everyone who wnats me dead is B l u r r: honest about it _Whirl: *relaxes a touch* See, that's why Megatron can't be your nemesis, Starscream, aside from the hilariously obvious reasons Prowl stated. Optimus is his nemesis. B l u r r: Oh, to have the Tyran Prime as a nemesis... / would sparkly eye if he could / Starscream: Yeah but we don't have to be mutually nemesises B l u r r: To be crushed by that large pede and ran through with a sword... all that hate in his optics. B l u r r: / twitches claws and spreads them over his face/ Bevel: *so confused about this nemesis stuff* ItsyBitsySpyers: *There is a vaguely wistful tone to his thoughts.* _Whirl: You absolutely do. _Whirl: If your nemesis doesn't actually refer toi you as "nemesis" then it's just. A sad, pale imitation. Starscream: I hate Megatron more than anything else in the universe, he's scum _Whirl: ...*was about to say "me too" but has to live with the knowledge that he... actually DOES hate someone more than Megatron. Multiple someones* _Whirl: And, Blurr, you've just got a huge crush on him, that's different. B l u r r: ... Hhh, I suppose. B l u r r: It's great to have, though... Starscream: One day I'll have a chance tosnuff his spark _Whirl: *dryly* A nemesis, or a crush? B l u r r: ... oh. A crush. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Jazz deserved a more fitting termination. A stray shot from an unknown soldier - it should have been something glorious. A final race to stop a musical virus. A game of poisons. Anything but that.]] B l u r r: Your Jazz died from a shot? Poor thing... B l u r r: Ah... I do rather hate Jazz... Starscream: ((Star "killing Megatron i my kink" scream B l u r r: But, he's obnoxiously friendly to me Bevel: Most Jazzes are really friendly like that. _Whirl: *shrugs* FakeProwl: A nemesis MUST be mutual. A nemesis is a relationship. Bevel: *most, definitely only most* FakeProwl: Otherwise it's just unrequited spite. Starscream: Oh no, he hates me too Starscream: Just not as deep a loathing as mine B l u r r: This Jazz is more so, I think... FakeProwl: Not good enough. B l u r r: / looks at Bevel/ Some kind of holy relic or something. FakeProwl: If he doesn't see you as his nemesis, you're not nemeses. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Primus, their obnoxious insincere friendliness.]] A pause. [[And their magnet hands. On some.]] _Whirl: I mean, hate isn't gonna cut it. Starscream: Then I guess I'll just have to settle for not having a nemesis _Whirl: You can go through your life hating everyone. I did. _Whirl: Mostly. _Whirl: With a few exceptions, I still more or less DO. Bevel: Like a relic of the Thirteen? ItsyBitsySpyers: *And now he's suddenly suspicious. He glances around the room to assure himself his complaining isn't going to a surprise audience.* B l u r r: A relic of the what? No.. .he's that stupid cube thing B l u r r: Everytime he comes over, he pesters me. FakeProwl: *likes the magnet hands* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Prowl doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what Jazz has done with them.* _Whirl: Isn't that the guy that made Zori super-sized? B l u r r: Yeah... Starscream: ((I have to go ItsyBitsySpyers: [[At least you aren't -teaching- him.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((awww! byeeee! thank you for showing up )) Starscream: ((thanks for the stream _Whirl: ((be!)) _Whirl: ((....bye)) _Whirl: ((BE)) B l u r r: byeee!! ]] _Whirl: I don't think he likes that very much--can't you get him to change him back? B l u r r: ... Are you teaching him? _Whirl: I don't really talk to him anymore, but Professor Z seems down. B l u r r: Me? Get him to change Zori back? B l u r r: Jazz isn't going to listen to me... ItsyBitsySpyers: [[NO. No. Jazz is not adjusting Zori again.]] Bevel: Cube thing? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He is working on other solutions. Ones that are unlikely to end in \a microscopic minicon.]] B l u r r: / nods at Bevel/ He's some kind of... what is it? B l u r r: All Spark? _Whirl: *looks to Soundwave* ...y'know that's probably not a bad idea. If he screwed up ONCE... ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Unfortunately.]] _Whirl: Well, if you need any ideas, I know a guy with a shrink ray. *shrugs* Bevel: Oh! I know what that is. B l u r r: you do? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...You will tell him more about that later, of course.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh! Oh. And here he is talking about-- and Prowl is right--* Bevel: Yeah, it made Cybertronian life in some places. I saw one once on a job. These Autobots had pieces of it and it made things come to life. B l u r r: Well, now it's all put together inside some mech. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Jazz amica status temporarily forgotten. Apologies. Bevel: Starscream was a zombie. I bet Jazz is a zombie to. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Primus forbid.]] B l u r r: He's a zombie? Huh... no, impossible. That would make him interesting. Bevel: *giggles* B l u r r: Even so... he's very much alive from what I see. _Whirl: Sure thing. _Whirl: And, yeah, Teach--Brainstorm. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «We spent four million years on opposite sides of a war. I'll forgive you badmouthing my amica if you forgive me occasionally cringing at references to assassinating senators.» _Whirl: In my home dimension I got shrunk down and fouight some scrapets in Big M's body. _Whirl: Left some quality graffiti in there, too. Bevel: Maybe it works different in his universe. All the things that are the same from one universe to another are not really the same most of the time. *it's really confusing* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He seems to consider this for a moment. Like, actually consider it. He's tapping his digits and everything.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *And a nod.* B l u r r: Things change, kid. /looking at Bevel/ it happens. If you want to learn more about him, talk to him. B l u r r: He only calls me when he's having one of those... vision things. B l u r r: Like I'm supposed to know what it means. _Whirl: All right, losers, time for me to head out. *streeetches one more time before carefuly extricating himself* _Whirl: Seeya. *salutes the room* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Aww. Ya gotta?// B l u r r: / waves at whirl/ See you sometime soon. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Anyway, it's nice to hear that he was a thorn in a high-ranking Decepticons' side. I'm sure he'd be pleased by your complaints.» Bevel: *waves to Whirl* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Well, Rumble will trot back over to the couch and squeeze in between Frenzy and Bevel* _Whirl: Yeah, I've got... *plants to tend to* Errands. Bevel: *still sure this Jazz is an allspark zombie but she'll nod at Blurr anyone* Bevel: *anyway* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Kay. Seeya later.// _Whirl: *he'll spare Rumble a nudge before he makes his exit, bobs his head to all one last time, and trots off* B l u r r: I'll tell you what, though. His universe is one hot mess. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Confirm Prowl not sharing news. Bevel: More than the other ones? B l u r r: As is my own. Yet, while we lay low here on Earth, the Decepticons won't attack us... for now. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I won't tell him a word.» B l u r r: / flicks finials / Hn? Well, apparently his Autobots are dying off constantly. B l u r r: He keeps calling me in a panic. Bevel: *nudges Rumble carefully in greeting* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nudge back and a grin.* Bevel: Oh, are they still fighting? B l u r r: ... I don't know. I stay out of it. B l u r r: I have no more ties to his universe B l u r r: / grumbles/ I have ties to another one now. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ping ping. Prowl is getting a reward. And also a demonstration of why Soundwave hates Jazzes so very, very much. Would he like to accept the A/V file.* Bevel: Sometimes being tied to someplace is a good thing. FakeProwl: *? all right* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Prowl's gonna see Soundwave cautiously stick his hand through a crack in the door, have it magneted, and get yanked through while Jazz flips over him. BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE.* B l u r r: ... In this case, I'm not sure yet. B l u r r: If being tied to it is good. B l u r r: [[ LOL I REMEMBER THAT SOUNDWAVE ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Because Jazz was an unauthorized intruder, a bridge immediately opened, dragging him through it. Since Soundwave was magneted, he got yanked right back into Dancitron and fell through with Jazz--* ItsyBitsySpyers: *And they both ended up a fair distance away, completely locked out of a building now on shutdown.* ItsyBitsySpyers: ((YOU BETTER REMEMBER HE'S STILL SO MAD)) B l u r r: [[ BE MAD WERE ON CYBERTRONS RUINS ]] Bevel: Aw well, I hope you figure it out. *encouraging smile* FakeProwl: *... hmmm. Well.* FakeProwl: *this requires some serious contemplation. prowl puts his elbows on his knees and laces his hands together.* FakeProwl: *and presses them over his mouth.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Elbow nudge. He sees that.* B l u r r: ... /tilts helm/ Hmh. So, what's your plan, huh? B l u r r: / at bevel / FakeProwl: *he's shaking.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Confirm THAT not shared either. ItsyBitsySpyers: *His dignity may be fluttering away in the wind, but at least Prowl is having a good moment for once. Shortage of those lately.* Bevel: *shrugs* Plans for what? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I will absolutely not be sharing this.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... And the Constructicons better not be either.» FakeProwl: *good moment's over. What if that file got transferred to them during recharge? What if they decided they didn't care about Prowl's promise not to share it?* FakeProwl: *wilts slightly* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He sees this wilt.* B l u r r: / leans forward to look at Bevel/ You want on the ship or not? ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Inform them if this, shared, Soundwave personally ensures guard deals never again accepted. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Furthermore: existing Constructicon enjoyment items confiscated, shared among Autobot newbuilds. Bevel: Oh that! Um, well. *it would get her away from the horrible awkwardness of her home planet* would you mind someone else coming with me? FakeProwl: *small nod.* FakeProwl: *attaches that note to the file. If the A/V file gets transferred to them, the threat will go with it.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Small nudge.* FakeProwl: *questioning ping* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Own fault. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Wait, who's goin' with ya?// FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... What is?» B l u r r: ... Who's the someone else? B l u r r: / tilts helm and flicks finials/ Remember, joining my crew means I am your Captain. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Shared file. Constructicon tie known. Other data also given. Shrinking: unnecessary. Bevel: My amica and I am used to following orders. B l u r r: So who is this america? B l u r r: / he doesn't know these terms / B l u r r: / An amica endurae is an american endurance / ItsyBitsySpyers: [[..................America?]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Yeah, he heard that.* FakeProwl: *shakes head. doesn't make a difference.* Bevel: *stares at Blurr for a second trying to think of how to answer this* FakeProwl: *he was still Reminded of them. and that he has no control over this connection.* B l u r r: ... Isn't that what it's called? B l u r r: That's what you said, right? Bevel: Amica. B l u r r: ...Ah. B l u r r: Well, who is that? Bevel: Like a really important friend. Some universes do not have them. B l u r r: We certainly don't Bevel: *this feels like such an understatment of the term but it's the best she can give* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Quiet vent. Light thumb rubbing on whatever plate it's resting against.* B l u r r: Anyway. Who are they? ItsyBitsySpyers: *He'll wait until Prowl feels like saying something about it or moving on. Whichever.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble and Frenzy chinhands and watch Bevel and Blurr. They wanna know too.* FakeProwl: *doesn't feel like saying anything now. just sorta slumps there.* Bevel: *sticks tongue out at the twins* Rolodex is a minicon from one of the Malgus universe. They are not a warrior or anything like that. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Well, then Soundwave will just stay there with him for now. Maybe have an idea to temporarily get him 'away' from his troubles for a bit, in a few minutes.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Which one's Malgus?// Bevel: The one with the zombie Starscream. B l u r r: [[ Maglus is TFA, yes? ]] Bevel: [[Yes B l u r r: *Malgus ]] B l u r r: [[ My son is from Malgus. My other Blurr ]] Bevel: [[TFA Blurr <3 B l u r r: [[ yasss ]] B l u r r: A minicon, hn? And what use will they do for the crew? Or you, for that matter? B l u r r: If you're part of the crew, you're part of the ship. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Hey! Don't you go stickin' her in no walls!// Bevel: *armor bristles slightly*Rolodex has been my friend since I first got lost. They are really smart and nice and help keep all our mercenary data neat and make sure we don't mess anything up B l u r r: So, they can keep data organized? Bevel: Huh-uh! They were a data keeper at a big prison on their Cybertron. B l u r r: Hmmm...we could use someone with those skills. Skychaser is moving to full time pilot. B l u r r: And you? B l u r r: / looks at the twins/ And I won't be putting anyone in a wall. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Good.// Squint. Bevel: I fight mostly. B l u r r: Do you need a reason to? B l u r r: You see, being a pirate is all about going against the grain. I don't want you to join and then you decide not to participate in any raids or pillaging events. Bevel: I do not hurt civilians. B l u r r: /scoffs/ then what kind of pirate are you expecting to be? Bevel: The kind that helps you take out bots like Thundertron. B l u r r: /smirks/ Now now, I didn't need a lot of help with that. /points to Frenzy/ Just his help. B l u r r: /lifts digit/ However... this may work to our advantage. Mechs like Thundertron need to be stopped. Bevel: *nods* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): This, not ideal overheard talk. If company still needed-wanted, Prowl avatar permitted longer stay within apartment. Speech, quiet not minded. Bevel: *she can't deny Frenzy's awesomeness during that fight* B l u r r: Hmmnh... /leans forrward and looks over Bevel/ I don't think I ever got a proper introduction. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy puffs a bit.* Bevel: My name is Bevel. B l u r r: ... Blurr. /shifts and holds out a claw/ Captain of the Emperor. /Your/ Captain, if you choose to be on my ship. B l u r r: That means you do what I say, when I say it. Any signs of mutiny.. .well... you don't want to know what kind of appetite I have. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... I may as well go home.» *he's got nothing to offer Soundwave right now.* Bevel: Ew. *takes the offered claw* Does that mean I get stuck on this Earth now? B l u r r: It means you're stuck with me until we can leave. It won't be long now. I think I've managed to gain the sympathy of the mech who took me. B l u r r: I'm quite the actor. /smirks and lifts a digit to his scarred derma/ Don't tell anyone, though. Bevel: *giggles* So am I. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Prowl certain? Home comfort not expected in present moment... this, time away assistance. Return not required. Peace, quiet. Soundwave's time spent repairing datapads. Bevel: I have to get Rolodex and our stuff if we have to live on the ship. ItsyBitsySpyers: *In other words, Prowl doesn't have to entertain him if he just wants to leave his mind somewhere that isn't the prison apartment for a while.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «The Constructicons aren't home at night. I can get peace and quiet as easily there as anywhere else.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Somehow he doubts the 'peace' part of that.* FakeProwl: *which was to say, not easily at all. but that wasn't the fault of the location. even in holoform, he could feel the itch of his sanded off decals.* B l u r r: Good. Then get your supplies and that mech B l u r r: And come back here. /looking Bevel over/ And bring any supplies you have ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...If mind changed, alert. Simple plan adjustment. Not difficulty if own home preferred; potential Constructicon theft warning recorded. Security presence not unexpected. Bevel: Ok! *Blurr better hope he's up for the sheer amount of supplies and stuff Bevel is bringing back* B l u r r: / he wants all the things / B l u r r: ... Welcome to The Emperor... Bevel. /twitches claws/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *He knows he's made this offer at least once a week now, but he's not entirely sure what else to do. There's no mental clues to go off of, and Prowl can be closed-off even when he's NOT upset.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «No. No—don't come over.» Bevel: Thanks, Blurr. Captain. *shrugs, look formal titles are not a thing with her merc group* B l u r r: Mm.../waves claw/ You'll learn in time ItsyBitsySpyers: *Tilts helm.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «There's no need for that.» Bevel: @Soundwave: Can you help me with a space bridge later please? ItsyBitsySpyers: @Bevel: [[Yes.]] Bevel: @Soundwave: Thank you. :) ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...In personal experience, direction loss: more painful alone. However, if that: Prowl's wish, Soundwave... complies. ItsyBitsySpyers: *A twist to face Bevel and a nod.* FakeProwl: *flinches* FakeProwl: *he hates that he can't keep anything to himself. Everything's already obvious, isn't it? he used to be able to keep secrets.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «"Alone" isn't even an option for me.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Prowl shouldnt dig at himself so hard. It's hard to have them around Soundwave.* B l u r r: / vents and leans over on his couch to look everyone else over. Well, he's comfortable here. Lays out on couch / B l u r r: You'll learn to like living here. My ship isn't so bad, you know. /to Bevel / ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Apology. Corrected term: "Unaccompanied." Implication Constructicon ties forgotten unintended. Bevel: Better than living on Cybertron. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble mutters something that sounds like "ain't that the truth"* B l u r r: Kyeheheh, if you say so. You'll never go hungry FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Mm.» *the wording doesn't make much difference.* «... I dislike being fussed over.» Bevel: Good to know. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Acknowledged. Glass treatment not meant. This - Soundwave not unfamiliar. After betrayal, new function not known. Carrier privacy also reduced. -- B l u r r: Mmhm. You see, we make stops all over the verses. I'm sure you'll get used to it. ItsyBitsySpyers: Intended offer purpose: support, understanding, assistance. Prowl capability still understood. However, desire: reduce unnecessary suffering, avoid unilateral decision. Bevel: I am used to travelling through the multiverse. B l u r r: Oh, good. Then you're used to foreign places. B l u r r: Now, there are guests that come and go on the ship that you should be aware of. ItsyBitsySpyers: (txt): That, only reason. Prowl decision: time unaccompanied wanted. That, respected. Goodnight bid. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I shouldn't have said I turned down a job offer.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Or not.* Bevel: Guests? B l u r r: Yes. B l u r r: For one, if you see a white mech with red markings, if he still looks the same, that's Drift. B l u r r: If he's on the ship and he tells you to do something, you're advised to listen to him. B l u r r: He's like my honorary first mate. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Data learned soon regardless. Small pieces already possessed. Starscream complaint suffering expected. Soundwave sees much. That, role. Cannot apologize. Respect, best counter. Bevel: Oh. Ok. ItsyBitsySpyers: *So he'll let go and bow his helm.* FakeProwl: *irritated sigh* @Soundwave «... Goodnight.» B l u r r: Big green and white mech with AMP across his chassis? That's Roadbuster. He's allowed on the ship any time. B l u r r: And if I say I have a guest and you are to remain in your sectors of the ship, listen to what I say. FakeProwl: *disappears* B l u r r: The trophy room is off limits. /counting on digits/ The room of intellect is open to mechs who wish to settle and work on their own source material for themselves. I'll explain B l u r r: the basics of our beliefs some other time. B l u r r: You're welcome to look at any frames on the wall, but don't knock them down Bevel: *nods and listens intently* B l u r r: Oberyn, you'll know him when you see him, is allowed to roam wherever he likes. If you don't want him in your room, make sure you lock the door. B l u r r: Menace, who I'm sure is on the ship somewhere, might be in the vents. Just be wary. Menace: *muffled* I'm in the closet today. B l u r r: ... He's in the closet, apparently. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Shakes his helm a little. Prowl can be mad at him if he wants. He's not going to be sorry that he figures things out--.* Bevel: Closet ok. Lock doors. *she should have written this down maybe* B l u r r: Menace is my audio and optic set. He's gotten rid of traitors before and I'm sure he's itching to do it again sometime. B l u r r: Either way, just remember that my ship can be very interesting to live on so long as you follow the rules. B l u r r: Oh, and you might want to tell me what you like to eat now. ItsyBitsySpyers: *And he's not going to be sorry that he told Prowl he was semi-familiar with the problem. It's true.* Bevel: Leave. I have friends off ship. My creator. I will need to visit them sometimes. And I only eat energon. Regular kind. Or high grade sometimes. Not anything made from humans. Bevel: The human stuff is gross. ItsyBitsySpyers: *He's just going to ping Bevel and Blurr simple goodbyes and make his way out. Like he said, he has datapads to repair.* B l u r r: Right, well, we don't eat humans here. But, the cannibar does serve energon from many mechs. /smirks/ so be careful what you order. Bevel: *pings back, will message later for that bridge* B l u r r: /waves to Soundwave / B l u r r: As for leave, I won't keep you from whatever a creator is, but you need to remember that you'll be a wanted mech, so whatever happens when you leave is on your helm. B l u r r: But we will come get you if there is an attack. We don't leave crew mates behind. Bevel: That is ok than. B l u r r: One more thing. I have alliances. Strong ones. Anything we do... any business between them remains between us. B l u r r: Nothing can be said outside of the crew unless I say so. Bevel: I can keep secrets. I am really good at it. B l u r r: Good. then we're all right. Now, I just need you to know that we mechs... don't believe in Primus. Mechs from my universe, anyway. B l u r r: You can pray to whatever bag of chips you want. Bevel: *snickers* B l u r r: But on this ship, with my mechs from my verse that I brought, they worship in a different way. You're allowed to talk to B l u r r: whatever you want. But, don't push it on others. Other than that, talk to those pringles. Bevel: *she is going to assume that means no one will be pushing pringles she doesn't want onto her as well and nod in agreement* B l u r r: / nods / See? I can be a good Captain. B l u r r: / flexes claws/ Sometimes. Better than Thundertron, eh? Bevel: A lot of bots are better than Thundertron but I think we can make this work. Bevel: *she stands* I will go get my things now and Rolodex and I will return as soon as we are able. It will not be very long. I will bring whatever supplies for the ship that I can. B l u r r: Right. Get a move on, then. Bevel: *nods and leaves*

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