#spector_author

[aquarika]

•This is basically what happens in the fic "Overflow" by Spector_Author on ao3 :) (that is a Motormaster/Silverbolt fic btw)

•still kinda hilarious to think about the reaction that both Decepticon and Autobot have in that moment (*meme 2*)

[realitysperception]

Thank you so much Archie!! The stream was a blast! It's always great to see how the art gets made! And the trine looks amazing!!

Hey! @spector-author Take a look!!!

completed elite trine commission for @realitysperception !!

[blitzy-blitzwing]

Hello Blitzy! Every writer is a little bit different, each with their own style and way of writing. Some can speed through ideas and other take their time to craft their stories. Don't be disheartened, from what I've read, your stories are wonderful. Writing does come in ebbs and flows, but keep at it, even if it's just a word a day. That's I've written some of my stories.

You're doing just fine :)

- Spector_Author

Thank you. 🥺

[drill-teeth-art]

I've said it before but Facade is one of my faves, me and Spector_Author both like her. We think she's neat.

Thank you omg!!! I've been meaning to draw it more often.

[heliopauseentertainments]

I'd love to see you write skywarp and mirage playing hide and seek together. Fluffy or otherwise, but either way your writing is wonderful. - Spector_Author

Oh, that's a fun idea! Maybe a little something like this drabble here (I most post it to AO3 later since it is technically a drabble):

Mirage held stock still as he huddled in the corner, hearing the telltale zap of teleportation in the next room. As long as he held still, his invisibility would hold and Skywarp wouldn't be able to capture him.

As long as he held still. It was just a waiting game; that was all.

"There are only so many places you can hide." Skywarp laughed, the open door allowing his voice to carry.

Mirage heard another zap, his hunter already relocating elsewhere. Perhaps far away. Perhaps he had gotten bored--A burst of violent light crackled loudly directly in front of him.

[rollerrecs]

blaster n' friends recs

Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types

Character: Blaster

Datastream by pipermca

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072457

The Decepticons devised a new code, and were using it to lay waste to Autobot outposts across the galaxy.

To stop the destruction, all the Autobots had to do was decode it.

Ship: Jazz/Prowl

WC: 6,135. earnestly I read this for the blaster content but the jazz/prowl plot is a little more predominant. buuuut it's also how blaster being jazz's friend plays into whatever the professional relationship between blaster and prowl is. i would call this a bamf!prowl and bamf!blaster fic? they do Cool Stuff!

One, Two Steps Down the Measure by Dripping_Shattered_Stars

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42458883

Basically, Jazz gets looks of distrust and disgust from the Autobots as most don't believe he's genuine in turning a new leaf. His prior attempts at deactivating Ironhide and Prowl didn't help.

But Blaster doesn't care, he thinks the new mech has good taste in music and that's more than enough to strike up a friendship with him.

As a result, Blaster gets a new deadly guardian angel.

WC: 5,042. jazz and blaster get to hang out and i am always thrilled about this. i could talk about this for hours but honestly just go read it

Unit Morale by eerian_sadow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467387

Blaster is a bright, happy being. When he suddenly isn't, Optimus takes personal interest.

WC: 1,312. young blaster! feelings of inadequacy!! the message of hope!!! good stuff all around :)

Survival Instincts by eerian_sadow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/521177

Blaster and Sunstreaker have been adrift from the war for a long time. Now they finally have a goal, and possibly a new home.

As long as they can manage to get there, that is.

WC: 11,149. two eerian_sadow fics? in a row?? yea i love their characterization of blaster if you havent gone through their blaster stuff what are you doing. this is not a pair i've ever observed but it's so brilliant and well-developed.

Too Early To Care by Spector_Author

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51059134

Blaster is on the morning shift, the early morning shift, and gets some unexpected company.

Or. A short snippet written to distract myself from how eepy I was.

WC: 1,328. Not only is this one of my favorite blaster-hangs-out-with-a-new-bot fics, it is one of my favorite blaster fics ever. this fic is a warm blanket to me.

[equivocaleternity]

Heya, my friend Spector_Author likes your works but she's a little shy. She was wondering about Deadlock/Mirage with "Hide and Seek"?

Mirage wasn’t just good at what he did, he was the best. He was untraceable, untrackable, a shadow, a ghost, and it wouldn’t matter if that Primus forsaken excuse of a sniper didn’t stop covering the entire fragging room with blaster fire, that was cheating. How in the name of the Guiding Hand had he not run out of ammo yet?

[stairre]

My friend Spector_Author was wondering about Mirage/Deadlock + Soulmate marks for the pairing ask.

Mirage/Deadlock? [cracks knuckles] I’ll give it my best shot!

1. The thing about soulmate marks is this: they can change. No, not only can, they do change, evolve as time goes on. Soulmates gain more intricacies to their identical marks as they get closer to each other. That’s not a physical closer, though. No, it’s more of similar closer.

As they go through life and encounter all its opportunities and hurdles, their soulmark gains patterns for shared experiences, shared emotions, and by the time they finally meet, they know that they’ll understand each other, because even if the letter of what happened to each of them isn’t the same, the spirit of it is shared.

2. The first piece of the pattern Mirage gains is when he realises, at some high class party full of mecha he does recognise but honestly couldn’t care about, that he feels trapped. Life is good as a member of the Crystal Towers; he has the shanix to get what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, and that means that he never really wants for anything.

Understanding is shallow, though. Judgement is high. Friends are fair-weather only. There’s a type of inescapable loneliness that Mirage has barely recognised in himself and won’t for some some yet – but he does realise, standing with a flute of expensive engex in his hand on the edge of the room, observing the others as they beam fixed smiles at each other and pretend interest in others’ lives, that the feeling crawling over his plating is entrapment.

Not even a breem later, he’s standing in a side room, watching the first piece of his soulmark etch itself onto his forearm, a detailed pattern of crossing lines and swirls. It seems that only Mirage can see the way it evokes the image of a cage, one of those pretty ones nobles put their imported pets in. He feels a little bit sick, actually.

Somewhere out there, another mech looks down at his forearm as well, and he knows what the shared experience is just at a glance. He presses his fingers to the intricate mark, and feels the emotions behind it, embedded in it, and wonders where his soulmate is.

The next day, the mark expands again. Deadlock watches as it inscribes loneliness in an extension of entrapment, and thinks of Gasket, long dead, and the companionship of the other Decepticons. He’s passed his abject loneliness, replaced it with burgeoning friendships, but that doesn’t preclude it having affected him spark-deep. Another similarity with his soulmate.

3. Later, the mark swirls out from loneliness and entrapment and encompasses both of the joined designs in a circle of pain, of loss and grief – I have lost my home orbits the core of the soulmark as Cybertron is left behind, a ruin of their war. The armies take their battles to the stars, and it’s millennia from being over.

But in this there is a small light of hope: comradeship etches a small but bright inscription in a small space between where loneliness and entrapment meet, a bright gold against their sombre blues and purples.

4. They meet – briefly – only a few months before the blow up between Deadlock and Turmoil. Mirage spies the identical mark to his on the plating of Deadlock – and he keeps walking, his own covered by spec ops paint and the bustle of the space station hiding him in its crowds. He doesn’t know what to do with the information, but he does this: he doesn’t report it.

It confuses him, to try to understand why it is Deadlock who is his soulmate. They are from two entirely different – practically opposite – backgrounds, and their choices have them still opposed to each other, either side of a dividing line. It doesn’t occur to him to think that this is intentional, two shared sparks bridging the gap of their outer lives.

5. Later still, much, much later, they meet again, onboard the Lost Light. Mirage has known for some time that Deadlock defected, went neutral and then Autobot, but – he hadn’t dared try to come across him at some base or deployment. His soulmate, perhaps, but he still has a pride to him, and a part of it smarts, even now, at a noble such as himself being linked to some gutter mech from the Dead End.

“You’re shooting yourself in the pede,” Hound tells him, rolling his optics, the only one who knows what Mirage knows. “You’re linked. What? Are you scared you’ll like him?”

Mirage shoots him a weary look and sniffs, “I am not afraid of him.”

Hound sighs. Rolls his optics again. “Not of him,” he says. “Of what he means. Of accepting him meaning that you’ll never have that high-class soulmate with which to re-establish a pre-war normalcy with. No noble lifestyle to return to. You ever thought that maybe that’s a good thing? I know you’ve come further than this.”

Mirage sets his jaw in a way that he never would have millions of years ago. Hound’s never tried to lie to him throughout all their friendship, and he holds Hound’s counsel close for a reason. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. Don’t expect anything.”

Hound watches as Mirage snatches up two cubes of nice engex and approaches Drift at his table, who looks up and smiles politely, if confusedly. His soulmark is still covered up, and there’s more than a little way to go, but – shared experiences piercing them spark-deep mean something, and he thinks that it’ll be good for Mirage to expand his social circle a little. Besides, Drift is quite fun to be around.

[huanted-dennys]

Commission for @realitysperception and spector_author

for spector’s story insect queen , high queen is my favorite character. y’all should check it out :333

[blitzy-blitzwing]

Eyo, my friend Spector_author barraged my phone last night with an idea for your Hazformers. "What if the reason team prime is in hell and demonized is all spark fragment got lodged inside a (hell?) spell book?" Then I got bugged to ask you about it.

We both think your art and writing is hella neat. It's a delight to see on my dashboard.

Omgomgomgomg, now I need to design them as demons!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩

And thanks!!! 😃😃😃😃

[eatyoursparkout]

My friend Spector_Author wanted me to ask you "Would/have you ever considered writing anything with the quintessons?"

maybe!! I love the idea of them, I’m just not usually playing in the continuity sandboxes where they exist or have a big role. I’ve heard that they’re in Cyberverse, so if I ever get around to watching s2-3 of that show then there’s a definite possibility

[realitysperception]

Aight, @cuppajj my friend Spector_author has been devouring your Shattered Glass Lost Light stuff and wrote her own bit for it using her own ship of OC's. 2000 words.

She's very happy and hopes you like it.

____________________________________________________________

“Captain, S.O.S signal.”

Tarmac and Jester paused their screaming argument, their comms mech didn’t speak often. Tarmac tried to smack his co-captain as he walked away, but she dodged with a hiss. The argument was about their shared custody of leadership on the Fastest Dark, Tarmac was the captain of the crew but Jester heavily financed most of their journeys, Jester wanted to lead but Tarmac had the loyalty of the crew. It was stalemate, and besides, they both enjoyed the screaming matches.

“On screen.” He ordered Tickertape. The comms officer nodded mutely and pressed a few buttons.

An audio recording started playing as a view of a floating ship appeared. No one paid attention to the audio, it was standard ‘help us, save us’ with corrupted interference and a few bits of screaming in the background. Tarmac had heard it before. The ship was where the attention was held, you could tell what credits the owners had from the ship.

The ship itself was not in good condition, old pre-war design, the hull had visible marks of damage and several of the window of the ship were missing or broken. A flush of pride went through him, his ship wasn’t like that, he didn’t even have to ask Scaler their engineer to keep the Fastest Dark in peak condition. Mechs looked at his ship and thought ‘dangerous credits’ and that was how he wanted it.

Tarmac studied the ship.

It was big, yeah, but he didn’t see much else worth seeing on the ship… or worth selling. Those fuel quills on the back looked old and dried out.

“Ignore it. They don’t have anything we want. Set a course for-”

“I know that ship!” Tarmac made a face as he was cut off. Spokewheel his second in command, sat up from his console. Usually the Praxian never paid attention to anything going on, preferring to go through his hoard of knowledge and blackmail in his internal databanks. Now he was sitting on the edge of his seat, adjusting his glass to star at the screen.

He pointed excitedly, his doorwings slapping the back of his chair. “That’s the Lost Light, gone missing vorns ago after takeoff. It held the last Prime, several Autobots officers, and two of Cybertrons greatest minds, including a weapons developer!” His optics shone. “There must be a fortune of equipment inside there! So much to catalogue and appraise!”

Tarmac narrowed his optics and looked at the derelict ship in a new -heh- light. “A fortune….”

Spokewheel looked at him out of the corner of his optics, a grin twisted his face. He knew how to speak to Tarmacs sense. “…A dangerous fortune.” He added.

Tarmacs spark leaped. Perfect.

“Another bad idea! Great!”

Tarmac turned to stare at his co-captain. She had a smile like a soured energon ration on, tapping her claws against a console in a rhythm she designed to sound irritating. Jester knew she was annoying and pushed it as far as she could. Tarmac watched those claws tap- tap- tap- and was tempted to rip them off.

…But Claxon had just told him very meekly they were running low on supplies. Costly supplies.

Tarmac ran the budgeting on the Fastest Dark and the medical account was saved by Spokewheel cutting in with a remark. In a falsely soothing voice, he said. “It’s alright Captain, I wouldn’t expect the dirt like her to understand the concept of money.”

Jester jumped on the remark like a photovoltaic cat pouncing on a glitchmouse. “And this dirt seems to have more credit than everyone on this ship combined. Funny how that works. What’s it like being poor? “

Spokewheel growled.

“I could have Phonos rip off your arms.”

“Ooo kinky.” Jester sneered. “Claxon’ll fix it for me.”

Spokewheel fanned his wings out. “And what if I ask him not too?”

“The bleeding spark medic Claxon say no? It’s a compulsion. And all that practice means he can fix anyone and anything. Pile of spare parts becomes a scanners," Jester laughed mockingly. "No way he won't fix me.”

“QUIET! SHUT UP YOU TWO!” Tarmac bellowed. The pair shut up, their sniping back and forth gave him a helm ache on a good orn. Tarmac ruffled his plating and said in a quieter voice. “Tickertape, hail the ship.”

Tickertape didn’t move, staring blankly ahead. “Already done.”

“Good.” He sat tall in his chair. “Lost Light, this is Tarmac, captain of the Fastest Dark answering your distress call. We are thirty klicks out. Acknowledge.”

The speakers crackled, the one on the left wasn’t working at all since Phonos had thrown Tickertape at it. Tarmac sent an urgent comm to their engineer and repair bot. He waited and sent an emergency one too. Finally, the message crackled through.

A strong voice started talking through the speakers. Sounded like a pushover, Tarmac noted, he could use that later. The voice said. “Hello? Fastest Dark this is the Lost Light, we are in need of assistance please.”

“We know, and we are on our way.”

Credit signs danced in Tarmacs vision, but he could distantly see the frame of Scaler the engineer walking onto the bridge. They slid under the console in front of him and started fiddling with the wiring. Tarmac started tallying up how many credit signs he could use on a spreadsheet.

The Lost Light spoke through the comm again, this time from two speakers “Thank you Captain Tarmac… Do you have a medic on board? We have wounded… They needed attention urgently.”

Tarmac swallowed the urge to snap they shouldn’t have gotten injured in the first place and instead nodded.

“It’s audio dumbaft.” Scaler muttered from under the console. Jester snickered.

The armrest under Tarmacs grip cracked. He could hurt the minibot later when he caught them, slippery glitch was good at hiding. Tarmac reset his vox, forcing calm through it. “We are perfectly able to lend you our medic Lost Light, just have a shuttle bay open and we can help…” ….relieve of your lives and valuables, he thought after.

“I look forward to seeing you onboard… Lost Light out.”

The crackle of the speakers cut off as the call ended.

Tarmac spun in his seat and started talking. “Loot the ship: main priority. They don’t need a medic; they need a blaster shot to the face. Claxon can stay in the medbay, he’ll be thrilled to have injuries to fix later, the rest of you prepare for a boarding party-”

“No.”

The room froze. Tarmac turned slowly to look at Scaler, the minibot tended to stay out of his command, focusing on fixing the ship, minding their own business. Now they were staring at the view screen with the outside view of the Lost Light still displayed. This was new and Tarmac did not like it. “No?” He said.

“No.”

The sound of the engines changed pitch as the whole ship changed course.

“Scaler.” Tarmac said in a warning tone.

“The windows are wrong for that ship design, the engines are the wrong alignment, the ship is wrong.” Scaler had their fists clenched. “They can’t- I have to get to the engine room. I need to do -things.”

“No you don- SCALER!”

Tarmac lunged as the floor opened beneath the mini, his servos passed through the space Scaler had been a microsecond before, disappearing through the hatch in the floor. The hatch closed again as Tarmac crashed heavily into it, sending sparks flying and putting long scrapes into his paint. He seethed. The little glitch would pay for that!

“Fastest Dark? Your heading has changed. We need that medic!” The comm call crackled through the speakers. The voice sounded worried.

Tarmac was going to answer civilly, not snap out curses and swears, he was. He ended up cursing anyway as the ship as whole lurched to the side. It was gratifying to see Jester fall over the top of the console and lad on awkwardly on her side, cursing just as much as he was. A sound echoed through the hallways of the ship, a deep groan like massive amounts of metal shifting.

To make matters worse the Fastest Darks intercom system screeched to life.

“THEY’RE MINE! YOU CAN’T HAVE THEM!”

The comm speaker crackled in silence for moment. “…Can’t have them? I need a medic, my captain is hurt.”

The intercom crackled back. “NO! YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM! HE’S MINE! THEY’RE ALL MINE!”

What in Primus’s name was going on? Spokewheel was unconscious on the floor, tickertape was sitting like a lump in his chair, Jester was trying to stand up. He should do something. Tarmac lurched to his feet and was knocked back into his chair.

The voice from the Lost light was getting angrier. “I NEED your medic.”

“NO!” “Yes! I insist.” “NO!” “Yes! He’s needed!”

“Tarmac!”

There was a crunch as Jester sunk her claws into the captain’s chair, the ship hadn’t stopped lurching and bucking, like it was trying to shake a space barnacle off. Tarmac twisted to look at his co-captain, she looked annoyed, it brought a bit of glee to his ember to see the pinched look. She jerked her helm at the bridge speakers.

“Does your thick helm have an idea what’s going on?”

The argument between the comm speakers and the intercom was still going on, reaching deafening sound levels.

“NO!” “Please!” “I SAID NO! THEY’RE MINE!” “I’m warning you. I need that medic! My captain-” “I DON’T CARE! NO!”

“No,” He growled. “but I’m going to find out.”

In between lurches he strode towards the bridge door, fighting for balance, only to have to the doors slam shut in his face. The biggest lurch yet jolted the ship, Tarmac yelled as pain erupted from his nose as he landed on his face. He groaned, looking up. He was going to kill someone for this!

“By the thirteen!”

“What the fuck!”

“Oh Primus.” Tarmac muttered himself.

On the view screen the Lost Light had changed and grown much, much bigger. Even before the ship had transformed the Lost Light had dwarfed Tarmacs ship. Now a huge face and torso stood in front of the Fastest Dark, it looked so large it blocked out parts of the light from the local sun.

The comm speakers crackled. “I warned you. I need your medic.”

The ship lurched again and a deep sound reverberated through the walls, vibrating and shaking every component. A huge hand partially covered the view screen, cupping it like it was protecting the glass. “AND I SAID FUCK. NO.”

Tarmac gaped. He-he-he never gave permission! This was his ship! How dare it transform without his go ahead? This was insubordi- *CLONG!* The ship lurched and he smacked his helm off a console. Blearily he pulled himself up the lean against the captain chair.

Through the gaps between the digits, he could the Lost Light frown, arm outstretched like it had tried to grab them. “You’re young. You’ll learn one day.”

The intercom screeched. “NO! FUCK OFF! THEY’RE MY CREW, NOT YOURS, AND I DON’T WANT TO SHARE!”

“That’s too bad. I tried to be nice.”

Tarmac braced as the Lost Light reached again, this time he could see the thrusters ignite at the very bottom of their massive peds. They weren’t going to survive this.

“GOTTA CATCH ME FIRST JACKASS! I BITE!”

The sound of the Fastest Darks engine rose to fever pitch. His vision warped as the universe stretched. The ship had jumped, hit hyperspace to a random location. Reality lurched as it did it again… and again.. and again.. and again.. bouncing around the galaxys at random, ziggging and zagging repeatedly. Around the tenth jump Tarmac passed out, the strain on his systems too much. The last thing he heard was the intercom repeating over and over again like a sparkling babbling words. “MINE, THEY’RE MINE, CAN’T LET THE SCARY SHIP HAVE THEM, MINE, THEY’RE MINE, CAN’T LET THE SCARY SHIP HAVE THEM MINE, THEY’RE MINE, CAN’T LET THE SCARY SHIP HAVE THEM MINE, THEY’RE MINE, CAN’T LET THE SCARY SHIP HAVE THEM, MINE-”

_____________________________________________________________

Spector notes: Love the idea of another shipformer coming across the Lost Light and instantly recognizing what/who the Lost Light is. I wanted to write a semi fight scene but the perspective is wrong for it and the Lost Light really is A LOT bigger than my ship.

Also, I'd love to post this on AO3, do you have an account I can gift the fic to? Your art is lovely by the way.

[eatyoursparkout]

Heya, just wanted to say a quick thank you here as I don't have an ao3 account. My friend Spector_Author was having a shitty night because of school, but you publishing a chapter of June Bug completely made it all better. 180 on mood.

So, thanks!

I'm very happy to hear that ! <3

[realitysperception]

Heya @cuppajj Spector_Author wrote some more of her shipformer with LL. Very cute this time.

Hope you enjoy.

“Come on Scaler!” Jester had a brisk pace as she strode down the hallway towards the airlock.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez!”

“I should hope so.” Came from ahead of them. Rodimus was leaning against the frame of the airlock, he high fived Jester as she bounced to a stop next to him. “You’d think with legs like that you should be able to keep up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scaler grumbled. “I’m only lagging behind because energy conservation is a real thing.”

It was a weak excuse, and they knew it. Rodimus knew it too, he snorted.

“Sure, but I prefer to spend my energy on something cool or fun, mostly both. Anyway, come on! I hear there’s a drink at Swerves with my designation on it.” He paused. “literally. I had Swerve carve my name into a glass, broke three doing it but it looks sick.”

Jester chuckled, looking half amused and half exasperated. “I’ll bet.”

Rodimus gestured to the airlock. “Well come on and I can show you!”

Scaler watched as Jester started bantering back and forth with the captain of the Lost Light, following them through the airlock, only dragging their peds a little. This would be their first visit onto the ship, they had been avoiding it for reasons… good reasons.

For one they didn’t really want to go, and two they wouldn’t have access to the cameras to see where they were going. Even if they did have system access, they heard the camera coverage was crap, only a handful were actually working. They’d been talking with some guy from Rodimus’ ship that someone named Red Alert had been trying to get all the cameras fix-

Scaler took a step out of the airlock and froze… it felt wrong. Something that shook them down to their struts. It wasn’t right… they should-

“Scaler? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” They weren’t paying attention, that feeling of wrong permeated nearly every sensor they had. It was like moving a puppets hand as they waved at Jester. “Ya’know go ahead without me, just remembered I forgot I needed to calibrate the triaxial coordinator circuits… kinda need those… I’ll uhhh… catch up with you.”

Jester frowned. “You sure?”

Scaler nodded, it was like moving a hinge up and down. “Yeah. Don’t want the ship to explode and all that.”

“Okay… but comm me if you need any help.”

Scaler waved again. “Go have fun.”

It was only a few steps before they were back on their ship. Only a few steps for the feeling of wrong to ease away. Scaler accessed an external camera and looked at the ship next to the Fastest Dark.

It was huge, floating in orbit around a gas giant alongside their ship. The only thing tethering the two ships together was the airlock clamps and a weak ion tractor beam. Nothing about the outside of the ship screamed that sense of wrong to Scaler… it was a ship.  

Still… something stray string of thought curled in their processor.

They needed to test something.

Down three levels and over two corridors. Unseen, Scaler slipped into the engine room, locking the doors shut behind them. The code that locked the door was the highest priority that existed on the Fastest Dark, not even Tarmac’s, Jesters, or Claxons codes could open it now.

--

Skyline’s awareness aways started with the bridge, it was simply where everything tended to happen. First the cameras, then his internal sensors, on his hud the internal announcements appeared, and finally the external sensors started feeding data to his processor. The whole process took seconds, but he couldn’t help but wish it was just a bit faster.

Especially the external sensor’s part, cause there was a ship much bigger than him very close by.  

Skyline tended to think of himself as big, but the ship- the Lost Light- dwarfed him. He wasn’t even as big as two of their side thrusters. Hell, some of the window were even big enough he could see his ships name reflected in the glass. It was… weird to see kraD tsetsaF floating by an external camera.

There was only one thing weirder… Skyline shivered a set of panels in the cargo bay, if he was transformed he could say his spark was in his throat. He was nervous.

But if he was right…

Skyline carefully pushed out a bit of his EM field, he had to be really careful not to let his passengers feel the fluctuations. Mostly the crew was used to his field being smoothed and calm, something in the background, they didn’t even realize they were surrounded by his EM field it was that much part of the background. Now it was a brush full of curiosity/excitement/disbelief, way too easy to detect if he wasn’t carefully. Skyline stretched his field a bit more, creeping along the airlock connectors. Just a bit farther aaaaaand…. it brushed up against another EM field, a big one, one as big as his.

It gently pushed back with curious/surprise.

Uh oh. Quick a wink, Skyline reeled his field in, pulling it back to his outer hull plating. What did he do? He hadn’t met another… uh- another ship before. Not like this. Were there rules for it? What did he say? Okay, he was kinda panicking.

He was very much panicking, with his thruster trembling and everything.

A comm ping hit his communications array. It was on a sub frequency, those always got routed straight to Skylines circuits, not to the comm controls on the bridge where Tickertape was on duty. It was hard to use the sub frequencies, something tricky with receiving it, so only ships outfitted with the circuits could use it- Skyline blinked, his optics shuttering deep within his frame, hidden in a room with no door.  Only ships~

They wanted to talk to him.

The Lost Light wanted to talk to him. He felt giddy.

Before he could change his mind he sent a ping back… and waited… his internals were shifting around, creating a hell of a noise in some empty rooms and maybe next door to Claxons room.

A comm channel opened.

If Skyline breathed he’d be holding his breath.

::Hello?::

Oh they sounded surprised, like they didn’t think anyone would answer. What did he say? What should he say? Oh crap, he was taking too long-

::Uuuhh- duh, uh- Hi- Hi- Hello- Sorry- um… Hi::

The voice on the other end of the comm line- The Lost Light chuckled softly, they had a soft voice, it really reminded Skyline of when Jester’s niece was younger and she’d croon soft babbling words at the tiny organic in her hand.

::It’s alright, no apologies necessary. It’s a surprise to meet another shipformer::

::I know! You’re the-:: Skyline clamped down on his excitement, he could be calm. ::You’re the first one I’ve met… I thought…::

::You were alone?:: There was that soft chuckle again, Skyline just wanted to wrap it around his spark it was so full of warmth. ::In this universe with your crew with you, we’re never alone. And hey, we’ve met now::

::Yeah, we have::

Deep in his engine room, lights danced happily as his spark swelled. Skyline pressed his field outwards and got a firm brush back of happy/delight/amazement. Skyline hesitated for a moment before he said.

::Can… Can I ask you something?::

::Of course my friend, I have a feeling we have lots to talk about::

Skyline’s spark swelled in its chamber again.

--

Rodimus suddenly looked over his shoulder, like he’d heard a noise…. Which wasn’t wrong, it was noisy in Swerves, but Jester couldn’t figure out what specific noise he was looking for in the whole cacophony. She sipped her custom drink from Swerve. “…You alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Rodimus said, he was still scanning the room. “Just the ship seems quiet. It’s weird.”

Jester nodded slowly. “It’s weird?... How many of those Comet Trails have you had?”

Rodimus snorted and threw back the rest of his current Comet Trail, the sparkly mercury and bismuth mix leaving fine traces of glitter on his lips. “Not enough to do anything, just… had a feeling you know? Captainy thing.” He shrugged. “Or maybe a prime thingmy? Either work, but it’s fine.”

“If something explodes-”

“We blame Whirl or Brainstorm… sometimes Tailgate, but that was one time.”

Jester laughed and drank the rest of her own drink. “There’s a story behind that, I know it.” “You think that’s a story?” Rodimus grinned. “Let me tell you a story.”

[realitysperception]

For all the last fic was heavy, this one is light as feather. Very fluffy. I think Spector really nailed the character voices this time.