#sparkmender

[unicronnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom]

🌂 Though this is rather ominous; one would not think Unicron had even a distant interest in fashion that wasn’t edible.

[a-life-revised]

Rung's going to just. Cling to his leg. He is HIDING. "Noooo."

"Rung- Rung, you- Rung!" He was laughing, though, because Rung was absolutely no hinderance at all to his movement or speed, but he moved carefully regardless to keep from throwing Rung off of him.

"You are being observed!"

[symphonicdemise]

“Damus?”

Rung’s almost puzzled looking as he leans against the doorframe, trying to stave off the woozy, dizzy feeling trying to take hold of his spark. “I, I did’n, uhm. I forgot you were coming over, I think? Sorry, Tarn, dear. Let me, ah…”

Well he had informed them of his arrival. So to have Rung looking so puzzled was worrying. More worrying than that was the absolute state of the smaller mech.

Without a second thought, he set down the bag of items he'd brought over and knelt down in front of him, brushing the back of his fingers against Rung's cheek ever so gently. His other servo came up to rest on his side, helping to steady him. He felt like pure fire.

"There's no need for apology, Rung. Are you alright, you feel like you've been sitting inside Helex's chamber for hours. I can come back another day if you're unwell." He said, eyebrow ridge furrowed with concern.

[autobotmedic]

[ i love my friends

[adeptvsastartes]

Oh, stars above, is SOMEONE ELSE trying to treat someone like a god when they didn't want to be now?

[venatorventus]

“I didn’t realize I’d left the window open. It’s becoming a terrible habit on my part, isn’t it?” Rung asks, perched on the windowsill bench and no doubt studying just how the light spilling out from the room behind him paints Scourge in stark angles. “I should pay more attention to what I’m doing.”

If Scourge were in his right mind, he might think it was a good time to get his canvas, paints, and brushes to capture the scene.

As it was, he was not.

Indeed, the scent of energon led him here like a siren song, calling to him in lilted haunting whispers, until he found himself nose to nose with-

"Rung," he murmured, optics bright with charge. "May I come in?"

[shiningsilverarmor]

@sparkmender

Rung, swordsmech gladiator, warrior of wit--

--is the only mech, in this verse at least, that Beastie would allow himself to be beneath him.

[cybertr0nian]

{: You guys are so nice, mini Thunders appreciates not being crushed.

[quantumlogician]

Quiet time +HC

Word + HC

All the time is quiet time for Shockwave. His mind is so still one could hear a pin drop. Though, when he is truly alone, his time is spent observing his surroundings or reading. On a rare occasion, he may listen to old operas/classical concerts from an old life to decompress.

And, well, he spends a grand majority of his life in silence and alone.

[unicronnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom]

@sparkmender replied...

“I have a mopping bucket.”

( THAT'S A SKIN FLAKE BUCKET. IT IS SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT. )

( BLOODLETTING BUCKETS ARE WIDER. )

[a-life-revised]

“Do you hunger, Megatron? Do you yearn?”

"I have done both every day of my life since my onlining, yes. I believe I hunger and yearn in equal measures."

[voraciouslyindulgent]

@sparkmender / [x]

He tries not to stray too far whenever they visit a shopping hub, or really any large, busy area; Rung knows he is easy to lose in a crowd, to his benefit or detriment, but he's more wary of what else could be lurking in wait there. The Council was destroyed and largely dismantled, but their enforcers and various supporters remained, in small pockets and hidden places. And they would recognize him, even if they did not truly know who-- what-- he is. But he thought he'd be safe, or at least left alone, in a quiet corner while waiting for the others to finish up their errands. "I-- I'm not, I'm not for sale," he stammers out, taken aback by the deep voice at his back before realizing their Neocybex is perfectly clear; the quiet roll of a Praxian accent softens the edges. Not one of the organic aliens milling about, then. Still. His brows furrow as he shuffles around on his stool, turning to face the-- the looming wall of black and purple hemming him in against the table. Rung's antenna shiver and slick back flat against his helm as he is forced to lean back, his optics blown huge behind his oculars, focus following those viciously pink biolights up from the warbuild's undercarriage all the way up to the angular faceplate and deep red optics. Oh, dear. "You're, uhm, very... close."

His gaze, glow dim yet potent in a heady simmer, fixated on the small mech's chassis, within which a spark so full and grand and vivacious sang to him, seduced him, with its oceanic, symphonic soundscape. It felt akin to being engulfed by a tide, that of ripe and succulent life spilling forth, making him ache and want and need and hunger.

"Intoxicating..." Tarn whispered, barely aware of the way he invaded the stranger's sacred space, pushing in with his sheer bulk, pinning without touch but by the size of his frame as his hands gripped the edge of the table behind the thin, minute bot. "You sound divine."

He knelt, a singular, fluid motion, so that his face was at level with the spark calling to him. "From afar, I heeded your beckoning. Helpless to your enchantment, I have come to you, my terrible siren, who leaves me trembling with desire yet unable to taste you for fear of an existence bereft of your beauty." He spoke in prayer, and at last dared to caress the diminutive one, large hands wrapping around the bot's torso.

"You have enthralled my sickness. I am now powerless to its whims, powerless to you." He looked up, meeting the stranger's gaze, his own seething with a want far deeper than lust. "You cannot refuse me now. You must reap the consequences of enslaving my insatiable appetite."

[badassitron]

sparkmender replied to your post:

How can Rung NOT step in at that? “It’s— here, I’ll show you.”

Oh, scrap, it's happening. It's actually happening. How do other people do this? Uh... arms. Out? B holds his arms out like he's t-posing, and restarts his vocoder. "Alright, I'm ready! We just, uh- mash our chassis together, right?"

[alacritysparked]

...should I know a Rung?

[iaconsavior]

"..." What an odd little cogless. Was their occupation a traffic cone? Certainly the right colour.

You get a presigned autograph too.

[captainseamech]

@sparkmender

“Shush, it needs to practice fine motor skills.”

"..... Why with bingo though?"