crimsonredracer - Tumblr blog

[crimsonredracer]

leaves a breakdown plushie in ur living room

He's tired from a long day at the salon, longing for the embrace of his wonderful padded berth, and planning on doing nothing but heading straight for said berth....

But when he spots the little thing sitting in the middle of the main room, all by its lonesome on the floor, he freezes. Of course he recognizes what it is. His plating ruffles up, discomfort evident, and approaches slowly.

The last thing he wanted was an unexpected reminder of his lost mate. Reaching down, he hesitates, staring at the little plush as if he expected it to bite him... and then kneels, picking it up delicately by one stubby little arm.

The fabric is sleek and shimmery, the lone little optic almost seeming to glow, and... it even smells of the polish he used to buff Breakdown with, and.... his wariness cracks, Knock Out letting out a noise best described as a melodic warble, before cradling the plush to his chest, frame shuddering. "Oh... Breakdown."

[crimsonredracer]

There's not much left in the apartment now. It's clean at least, no traces of the destruction he'd wrought earlier... It just looks... barren. Sterile.

Knockout doesn't give much of a damn. His paints and polishes survived the maelstrom, as did the buffers, so at least he can still work. Not that he feels like facing the public. But if he stays holed up much longer, others will come looking. They'll realize he isn't fine.

So it's time to put on the façade again, preen and primp until he's perfect, not one speck of dirt on him, not a single plate bare of glittering shine... He's good at this, camouflaging and deflecting, putting on the good old Decepticon charm.

[crimsonredracer]

It's been two entire cycles, but he's finally back at his apartment.

It looks like a gang of Wreckers had a drunken party. Every bit of fabric has been ripped into, many of the decor pieces are trashed... The washrack escaped the worst of the damage, at least, so that's where Knockout heads first.

To just... stumble into the rack, rest his helm against the tiled wall, and let hot solvent spray down on his frame. It strips the remnants of his smeared and mussed up wax off, leaving him looking nowhere near as glossy as usual.

It's an improvement over streaky wax at least. It takes several hours before he's ready to emerge, and for once, he doesn't bother reapplying the polish. The apartment has to be fixed before someone drops in on him. Or worse, if Starscream dropped in and saw what a wreck he'd created...

Knockout was well aware the Seeker had picked up on his state, as well as Smokescreen. He was fine. Just. He was just tired, dammit, there was nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong.

Nothing wrong. Perfectly normal for a Con to be angry enough to wreck his home.

Perfectly normal.

[crimsonredracer]

That would be nice, Smokey dear. Maybe tomorrow?

ʘ‿ʘ

Heh, you and me both, buddy! You know... Would you be up to go on a date? So we can appreciate each other?

[crimsonredracer]

Nope. He's going back to his old alt. He'll have one hell of a sore transformation cog, but...

Breakdown liked this frame, he liked driving around with the big blue bruiser

He liked the Aston Martin alt mode better. It made him look sleeker, faster.

[crimsonredracer]

"Oh but of course~" Knockout grins at the seemingly shy mech. He might never have seen him before, but the mannerisms are familiar, and the color scheme and frame style? Oh yes, he recognizes the Prime, even in this little frame. "You're such a cute little thing, dear."

ʘ‿ʘ

Attractive Meme | @crimsonredracer

Orion immediately ducks his head, shuffles his pedes a little. "... Oh. .... Really?"

[crimsonredracer]

Have your muse confess anonymously their thoughts about my muse!

It’s up to the asker to reveal their muse!

[crimsonredracer]

Send me have you ever’s. My muse has to answer every question truthfully.

for multi-muse blogs, specify which muse.

[crimsonredracer]

ʘ‿ʘ

Well, at least his admirers had good timing, he really needed the boost right now. "Thanks, Smokey~ The attraction is mutual, my dear."

[crimsonredracer]

And he's just going to roll onto his back, wings folded out to his sides, and just... stare at the ceiling. Idly petting Breakdown's Decepticon badge.

He still remembers how it felt, welding it in place. Being so proud of his partner, so pleased. How it felt to be wrapped in those bulky arms, the larger mech's engine rumbling loudly.

The thrill of being on the field of battle together, Breakdown's shouts and taunts, the ground shaking underneath as the bulky mech moved. The sense of security around him. Knowing his partner had his back, in battle and out.

The luxury of Breakdown polishing and waxing him until he shined, the delight in returning the favor, the little noises Break made when the buffer hit sensitive spots.

...Primus, he misses recharging with the mech. Tangled with the larger frame, the mech's warm vents blowing over him, an arm wrapped around him, his back to Break's front, dozing with the wall at his front, Breakdown a physical shield against the world...

His vision blurs, going staticky, and the medic groans. He's going soft, dammit. What would Breakdown think of him, crying like a lost bitty? He vents raggedly, trying to get himself under control. The bruiser was a big softie under all that bravado, he'd likely not say a thing, just hold him and hide him until he was ready to face the world again.

"Dammit Br-Breakdown." His voice cracks, and he growls at himself. If he really started crying, he'd be spending the next few hours touching up his facial plates, reapplying the light polish, and... and...

One harsh sob escapes, followed by an angry engine rev. He's not doing this.

He won't.

[crimsonredracer]

ʘ‿ʘ

"Likewise, dear Starscream~"

[crimsonredracer]

After that little occurence, Knockout's rattled. Badly.

Seeing a living, thriving Breakdown, bonded to another Knockout... he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly wasn't ready for it and the emotions it'd dredged up. He'd been so angry... angry at Dreadwing for not preventing his partner's death, furious at Airachnid for killing him.

And angry at Breakdown. The idiot had gone rushing off after the bitch, against Dreadwing's orders, and had gotten himself... killed. Extinguished. And he hadn't even been allowed to retrieve his partner's frame then.

His frame trembles, plating rattling against itself, the noise over loud in the dark apartment, and... A roar of pure, pent up fury bursts out of him, and Knockout surges forward, seizing the first thing he can get his sharp claws on and hurling it away from himself, twitching as the crystal shatters against the wall.

It does nothing to dampen the fury and grief, and the medic continues on his rampage, trashing the décor, sinking talons into the furniture and shredding the fabric, screaming and cursing in fury, flipping back and forth between Neocybex, Vosnian, and English in an attempt to fully express the fury.

The tantrum doesn't abate until his claws seize hold of a piece of blue metal, a Decepticon badge, and Knockout stops, staring at it.

Breakdown's badge. He traces the edges tenderly, frame heaving as his vents cycle rapidly to cool him off... And just as suddenly as the tantrum started, the fury disappears, leaving Knockout to collapse to the floor, exhausted, curling up. He won't cry. He will *not*. Decepticons do not indulge in such weak emotions.

[crimsonredracer]

As much as he likes having wings again, and flight.... he misses driving. The feel of the road under his tires, the vibration through his frame...

He missed the way he looked with his ground alt, too.

Hm.

[crimsonredracer]

Send a 'ʘ‿ʘ' if your muse finds my muse attractive.

[crimsonredracer]

Have your muse confess anonymously their thoughts about my muse!

It’s up to the asker to reveal their muse!

[crimsonredracer]

Ah, at least he isn't completely oblivious to fields. Knockout hums approvingly as he relaxes, leaning against the Autobot as if he belonged there. "For starters, you can keep bringing those treats. I am going to need a little more fuel for the next few cycles." A second treat is selected, and it too disappears rapidly.

Plating ruffles as the medic purrs, snuggling into the younger mech's side. "The process of laying a clutch is, mm. Highly arousing. Encourages a tighter bond between carrier and sire. Last time I had an empty clutch like this, Breakdown and I had a great deal of fun~"

::Smokey, dearest, I've a problem and it is your fault.::

::Oh? Wait, what, Crimson? I didn't accidentally scratch you the other night, did I?::

[crimsonredracer]

Ooooh, yes, he's going to pluck a little treat right out of Smokey's servos and in two bites, it's gone. "Mmmm~ Did you make these or buy them?" And there goes a smirk at the puns, the racer chuckling softly as he finds a seat.

"Well, these won't hatch, there's no bitties. I haven't interfaced recently, but sometimes mechs lay an empty clutch if someone they're close to is having a clutch." He gave Smokescreen a pointed look, flicking his field at the mech playfully.

::Smokey, dearest, I've a problem and it is your fault.::

::Oh? Wait, what, Crimson? I didn't accidentally scratch you the other night, did I?::