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Yes.

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I love the aerialbots so much.

Its like having 5 teenagers except they're 20 feet tall and can fly, and also turn into a giant guy who can *also* fly

Silverbolt is a *plane* who's scared of *heights*. Iconic. No notes. Also custody of the braincell.

Slingshot's a lil smack talker. Smug aura with his wraparound shades and basketball lookin head. "No one bullies him but me" energy.

Skydive has autism. You can tell because he discovered Wikipedia and went article hopping for three days straight and needs to share THE KNOWLEDGE

Air Raid: this man (plane) is a cat. I am convinced he would bite starscream given half a chance. Goblin child. (Affectionate)

Fireflight: no thoughts, only vibes. He will fly into a tree. How did he wind up in Nebraska? Dont bother asking, he won't be able to tell you. Man just zoned out and suddenly he was surrounded by C o r n.

Optimus Prime literally went: hmm yes plane children megazord. Excellent idea.

...And to top it off they have insane beef with a street gang who is made out of car and also can turn into a giant guy.

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Growing Gardens chapter 8: And he looked at me and I looked at him and he-

She looked at him and he looked at her. She looked at his brother and he looked at her. This cycle repeated a few times. Without looking away from the two she unlocked and opened the window.

“You know where I live.” Gladiolus switched between looking at Deadend and Breakdown again. Neither responded with anything more than a wide overstrung smile. “How?” she felt she should be more panicked but the situation was really not that out of the ordinary considering recent events.

“We were watching you.” The concise response came from Breakdown and was loudly refuted by Deadend.

“Don't say that it makes it sound like stalking!” 

“It kind of was stalking.”

“It wasn’t stalking!” Deadend whipped his head back to Gladiolus. “We were not stalking you I promise.” Back to Breakdown. “Stop calling it stalking!” his shoulders raised and fell like he was taking quick deep breaths. Gladiolus was pretty sure they didn’t have to breathe but she had heard something like fans from an air conditioner coming from the bots at various volumes. Little puff of air from between their plating could be felt if you were close enough.

Looking around, it didn’t seem like any of her neighbors had been disturbed by the ruckus. “How about we keep this a little quieter huh boys. We don't want the cops called on you.” Her gentle redirection was met with bubbled cheeks and twin nods. Breakdowns optics flittered around checking their surroundings. 

“We just want the ending to the story.” Breakdown was now looking over his shoulders carefully observing every house he could see, checking if lights came on or cars started. He hardly felt relief when nothing moved because there was always a chance that could change, lights could be turned on, they could be seen and authorities could be called. He and Deadend could be found out by the human population and captured and dissected and experimented on and then his other brothers could try and rescue them only to get caught themselves and suffer the same fate and then the other decepticons would decide that they weren't worth saving and leave them behind and the autobots didn’t like them anyways so they wouldn’t help them and then they would be separated from each other or killed or-or-or-or-or-or-

“Hey! Hey! How about we all sit down for a couple minutes. Deadend stop shaking him!” Deadends servos were clasped on his shoulders, elbows bent in the process of unsuccessfully trying to snap Breakdown out of his spiral. Hesitantly Gladiolus started giving uncertain directions. “Just hold on one second.” Was called out as she disappeared from the window.

Deadend could hear small crashes and a few stray “fuck!”s coming from throughout the house.

She came jogging from around the corner of the house. Gladiolus stepped far closer than she probably should have, placing her hand on what she assumed was the equivalent to Breakdown’s ankle. “Hi honey, why don't you just take a seat. Deadend help him sit down.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Deadend took one of Breakdown’s arms in both his hands and dropped himself onto his ass, subsequently dragging his brother down with him. Gladiolus flinched back at both the crash down, narrowly avoiding getting sideswiped by a flinging leg and the crunch from Breakdown grabbing onto her open window in an attempt to catch himself. 

“They could have seen us.” Breakdown yell-whispered. He wobbled in an unsteady half-crouch, Deadend still clinging onto his arm trying to pull him away from the window.

“No one saw you. You’re alright, alright?” She tried to reassure him. “You uh-you said you wanted the rest of my story right?” It was the first thing she could think of that might redirect him from what she assumed might be some kind of panic attack, could robots get panic attacks? She knew that they were sentient and clearly very emotional but she hadn’t really thought about the ramifications that might stem from human things. Even being on a planet teeming with humans she assumed their main problem would be the war between their own species. 

Breakdownlet go of her window, definitely scraping off at least some paint and bending the window sill, he let Deadend drag him into a sitting position. “Yeah….” 

“Yeah…. Um, Deadend told you about it?”

“The dragon captured a princess and the knight was going to rescue her.” It was a simplified version, by a lot, but it was enough to convince Breakdown to go along with following his brother in a not greatly planned jaunt. 

“Yes. yeah. The knight had collected his sword and shield-”

“From an ogre and from across some water!” Deadend spoke up, letting go of Breakdown's arm to lean forward to listen better.

“Right and he fought his way through the forest and now he finally made it to the cave that the princess was being held in.” Gladiolus had grabbed a sweater on her scurry out of the house, laying it over the grass she sat down on it. “And now the knight, determined to bring the princess home safe, charged into the dragon's lair. He ran through dark and dank tunnels, barely able to see at all Until he came across a giant room. It was illuminated by huge fire pits and filled to the brim with stolen gold.” Breakdown looked much like Deadend had when she had first started the story in the brig. “And there it was, top of all the gold layed the massive blue dragon sleeping soundly.”

“What does that mean?” Deadend interrupted.

“What? What does what mean?”

“Sleeping soundly?”

“It’s,” Did they need to sleep? A better question might be if they could at all? “It's like resting peacefully, fully unaware of your surroundings and completely calm and safe.”

“But the dragon isn't safe, the knights there.”

“Well the dragon doesn't know that. He doesn't think that anyone is there.” Breakdown made a face to that, starting to look around again. “But! He only doesn't know because he's alone and there's nobody else to watch his back." This seemed to appease Breakdown’s nerves and he settled down again. 

“Facing the dragon the knight climbed the mountain of gold. Now face to face with the beast, he drew his sword and raised his shield but before he could take a swing, the dragon opened its yellow eyes. Standing up the great big lizard roared and spewed fire from its mouth. 

The knight jumped back. He had fought bravely to get here and he would not give up now. ‘Where is the princess, you foul creature!’ the knight yelled. The dragon did not answer, it swung a ginormous claw down at the knight only missing him by an inch. In retaliation the knight swung his sword only to have the blade bounce off the dragon's scales shattering into pieces. 

‘How can this be!’ he bellowed, throwing down his broken sword for he knew it would be no help if it could not pierce the dragon. He dogged another attack, and the one after that. 

The dragon's mouth began to glow with heat and it shot fire at the knight.” Both Deadend and Breakdown gasped. “Unlike the sword, the shield worked perfectly, protecting him from the fire. He ran to the side hiding behind a hill of gold. He knew that he couldn’t hide forever and without a sword he can't fight back, while trying to come up with a plan he suddenly hears a voice call out to him.” She pauses for effect. “It was the princess, he found her at last! Locked in a cage surrounded by towers of gold. 

‘Please save me, the cage is locked with a key. The dragon keeps it around his neck, to slay the dragon use the magic sword.’ cried the princess” Gladiolus dramatically pointed in a random direction while imitating the high pitched voice of the princess. Deadend whipped his head to look where she had pointed only to get a little embarrassed when he realized she was just gesturing for the story.

“The knight raised his shield and ran to the magic sword, jumping over the claws swung at him and sliding under the dragon's belly. He gripped the sword and pulled it from where it was stuck in the gold. Now armed with a weapon of magical power the knight felt a new wave of bravery and when the dragon swiped a huge claw at him he returned the attack with one of his own, chopping off the claws of the beast. 

Roaring with rage the dragon shot more fire at the knight, but the shield once again protected him, swinging his sword he cut open the dragon's belly finally killing the monstrous creature.” Deadend gave a triumphant woop to the dragon's death. 

“The knight took the key from the dragon's neck and freed the princess. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, he took her back to the kingdom and they lived happily ever after.”

“Did the knight have to kill the dragon?” Breakdown genuinely asks.

“Of course he did, what else was he supposed to do, nicely ask the dragon to ‘please stop shooting fire at me and release the princess?’” Deadend snarked back at him.

Gladiolus spoke up to interrupt what seemed to be leading to an argument“So what did you think of the story, pretty alright huh Olive?”

”I'm not an olive.”

She hadn’t even noticed she had called Deadend that. “Of-of course not that was-that was someone else sorry.”

“Does Olive like your stories too?” The innocence of Deadend’s question was unbearable.

“Yes he did. Very much he did.” He used to be the only one she told stories to. He was getting too old for them but would ask for them when he was sick or having a bad day, Gladiolus had forgotten about that. There were so many things she had thought so little of before that she was forgetting about now. 

She wondered if one day all those little things would be completely gone from her memory, unable to be recalled even after prompt or in mention of them. 

“Well he has pretty good taste then.” Deadend assured. “I liked the knight, it’s gotta be pretty cool to fight a dragon and win.” 

“Saving a princess must have been nice too.” Breakdown’s voice had a dreamy quality to it.

”I don't think your princess will need much rescuing anytime soon.” 

“Shut up!” Their voices grew louder from the whispers they had been.

Gladiolus raised a finger to her mouth and shushed them, the both of them acted a bit cowed by the reminder to keep quiet. 

A quick double beep sounded off from both Breakdown and Deadend followed by a disappointed aw. 

“We have to go.” Breakdown cringed. “We aren’t supposed to be out this late, especially after a failed raid.” 

“Dragstrip will only cover for us for so long and Motormaster will have a fit if he finds out we left.” Deadend bumped himself into Breakdown while he was getting up, effectively pushing him back down only to get up unhindered himself. 

Breakdown half heartedly swung a hand at him and missed. “Would um…would you mind if we came here again? Not often or anything, just maybe at some point. To hear another story if you have any.” He looked intently into her eyes. Deadend had already latched onto his arm and began to drag him away.

”Of course you can. But not at a time that you’ll get in trouble and you can't be seen, you will have to remember to be quiet.” She cupped her hands to try and narrow how far her voice traveled while talking over the squabbling boys. “Goodbye.”

Two almost shouts of bye and they were down the street, turning at the next street, and out of sight.

Gladiolus watched them go. She shook out the sweater she had been sitting on and squinted at it trying to see how bad the grass stains were. It didn’t really matter as she threw it into a laundry basket once back inside and let it be for another time.

She tried to close her window but found the indents of Breakdown fingers along the windowsill keeping it open just a crack making the lock completely useless. Adding it to the list of things needing fixing she laid back onto her bed. Pulling the covers over her head she found that her heart must have been racing the entire time she was outside, exhaustion filled her body as it finally slowed.

The crickets extra loud tonight lulled her to a doze and the subtle feeling of something like happiness pulled her into slumber.

She saw blue metal and yellow eyes roaming around in her dreams, there was nothing around her except the figure hidden in the darkness. It whispered to her, she could hear no words but still understood. 

The guard was coming to fix what the others had destroyed.

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I lost The Game.

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Happy Easter to all Transformers fans, I wanted to take this opportunity to remind y’all of this gem.

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growing gardens

chapter 7: Dragons and Princesses

Gladiolus couldn't remember what she forgot. It bothered her all morning. Through her shower and making coffee she knew she had forgotten something. 

Was it something important or maybe she just left something in her car. 

The car that she no longer had.

Because it was destroyed.

Gladiolus had somehow forgotten that her car was gone. In the grand scheme of things her car wasn’t exactly her biggest worry for the last few days but still. She was used to driving herself whenever and wherever she wanted fully at her own discretion. 

Now she had to wait on her porch with her travel mug for a ride from a sentient robot who could turn into a car. Because her car had been destroyed by other sentient robot cars.

Contemplating her situation really rationalized it in her mind that it was ok that her memory wasn’t the greatest.

And yet she was sure the thing she forgot wasn’t the semi grand end of her car. It had to be something else.

Kup pulled up slowly in front of her house. It was strange that such a dingy looking pickup truck was actually a sentient robot. He really looked like a normal truck, he was the same color as the truck her father had before Oliver was born. She couldn’t have imagined her father driving any other kind of car before it broke down and he bought a minivan. He used to drive Oliver to ultimate frisbee practice in that minivan.

Kup honked his horn. Even his horn sounded like an impatient old man telling her that it was time to go. 

She chugged the rest of her coffee, grimacing when she got to the unstirred sugar sludge at the bottom of the mug. She placed the mug in the sink, grabbed her purse and travel cup, and promptly slammed her shin into the doorframe of her front door. As she crumpled to the ground she couldn’t hear the strangled cough laugh that Kup uttered but she could see his frame shake slightly and made the educated guess that he was laughing at her pain. 

She lowered her head before raising her fist in what she hoped was a universal sign of damn you. She wasn’t one to bruise easily, this was going to smart for a while for sure. With her dramatics done she picked herself off the ground and pathetically hobbled to Kup’s front seat where he laughed at her plight and informed her that at their age that must have counted as quite the blow. She found it difficult to be offended at yet another jab at her age (she again was not old and to be referred to as such was frankly as the kids say “stupid”) when his seriousness made her entire contemplation of her situation all the funnier in a morbid “my life as I know it is ending” kind of way. 

It was scary entering a new way of life and the abruptness in what she had been doing for the past couple years was straining. 

The drive was slower. It seemed they hit every red light through town, and they honestly might have, lots of stop and go as everyone was on the street that morning. Whether it was the nice weather or that Saturday plans had been made in abundance, it was busy out. Despite that the drive overall was not all that long and uneventful. 

The entrance to the autobot base was coming into view. It would have been a normal looking tunnel entrance if it had a paved road. The dirt leading to it was packed down and had many many tire tracks. 

The outside of the base was as natural as can be, tall trees and shrubbery obscuring the outside parts and grass had been put on top of the tunnel and covered in grass and a garden that Sparkplug had shown her. It was mostly fruits, vegetables, and some flowers along the edges and apparently was ferociously beloved by some bots she hadn’t met yet called the dinobots. Why some robot dinosaurs liked a garden, that they couldn’t even step into, so much was a mystery to everyone human and cybertronian alike. 

The inside of the base was a startlingly different experience with a sterile tone to it. Metal upon metal made Gladiolus long for the pretty little garden in the sun up top.

Today was going to be a complicated metal covered day. She had made her plans that morning, she was going to discuss what was to be done with the young mech in the brig. Surely he couldn’t just be left there and Optimus’s soldiers seem to not understand the meaning of taking things professionally if what she had seen with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had told her anything. It was appalling that they felt comfortable mocking an already imprisoned kid, with little to no remorse for what they had been doing. 

She hadn’t been around long but Deadend hadn’t been alive long and he clearly had terrible role models if what she had seen and heard about Megatron and the rest of the decepticons was anything to go by. Sticking baby in the corner wasn’t the way to go, she was sure of that. 

Optimus was waiting in the main area of the base with Jazz ominously smiling behind him.

Kup was evidently not happy to see Jazz this morning. After stretching into his bipedal mode, he rolled his shoulders, promptly crossed his arms, and hunched over slightly into a proper grouchy old man stance. Jazz made no indication that he was affected by the sheer grandfatherness of Kup. 

Clapping his hands together, very let's-get-this-startedesque, Jazz did a little skip and hop to the middle of the room. “Kup, my friend, can I please borrow your human for a little bit?” 

Optimus looked like he wanted to interrupt. 

Kup beat him to it with a firm. “No.”

“I promise to return her momentarily.” 

“No.”

“Gladiolus, my friend. Can I please borrow you for a little bit?” She didn’t like that he asked her second. Her opinion should have been first and foremost. “It’ll only take a minute and then I’ll send a request for you to go to the brig so you can terrorize the mechs on guard duty.” It's tempting. Very tempting.

Tempting enough. “Fine.” She looks back at Kup to tell him she’ll be back only to find Optimus distracting him with the intrigue of an old story that may or may not be true. She let it be and left to the corner with Jazz, not too far from the others but low tones would be unheard.

Jazz had made it his job to be a human/cybertronian unity organizer. Bringing groups together was what he did before and leading up to the war. How many mechs would have turned the cons or neutrals if it hadn’t been for Jazz? A lot, that's how many. He didn’t keep track but the number was probably in the hundreds and it was all thanks to the power of information. Humanity wasn’t all that different from their mechanical space fairing visitors, a little targeted interest mentioning went a long way for both species.

“I’ve noticed that you and Sparky get along pretty well. Have you spent any time with anyone else? Maybe June or Judy” It was casual in demeanor.

Gladiolus was under the assumption that Jazz would be talking to her about her behavior in the brig, not inquiring how well she got along with some of the other humans. “I haven’t really met many of the others yet, Sparkplug did say he would introduce me once I've had some time to get more adjusted to,” she gestured to the general air around her. “Everything.”

“Great! Sparky’s good at getting everyone together to meet new members, lot of different schedules to work around, which is why they have a meeting every Saturday that recaps important missions, events, and happenings to keep everyone in the loop. They run biweekly and if you miss a meeting the recap is kept in a file on teletraan, Kup will be able to get it for you. Aaaannnnd-” he splayed out his hands with the stretched hands in grand finale gesture. 

“Most of the others bring their kids, If they have them. Now I know I might come off as nosy but I like to think of myself as a collector of information through unconventional ways. I know you have a son a little older than Raf- “ What?

 “-Raf’s the computer wiz kid who you’ll see around Bumblebee a lot, and I assume that you’re getting pretty comfy with us and might be considering bringing Oliver around soon. I know I’d like to meet him” 

Gladiolus didn’t want to talk about this, to explain what was so terribly wrong with this, why she would never be able to bring Oliver, why she would never be able to bring Oliver anywhere again. 

She opened her mouth. “My-” she cut herself off. Why couldn’t he have been properly nosy and have already found out that her son was gone.

She tried to speak, thinking of what to say. It had been a long time since anyone had not known or spoke like he was still here. Still in the chair on the porch, or trying to beat her score on wii golf, or reading that comic series with his friends. Eli, Sam, and Oliver used to trade off which one of them would get the next issue each month, doing chores and work for the neighbors for the money. They had come to the funeral and brought a box full of the comics, they had sat by his casket and read the dialogue outloud and described what was happening. Halfway through the service Gladiolus’s aunt Kathy had suggested asking them to leave and had been yelled at by her father in the hallway. 

Jazz’s smile waned. “You alright, was that suggestion too forward for-” 

The lights turned red. A siren started before a voice on the intercom. “Infiltration in the lower level in progress. Assumed prison break in nature. Assistance required.”

“Agh, Red you robotic-sorry Glad but duty calls.” Jazz transformed and sped out quick and efficiently. Just like that the conversation was over. Her thoughts brought back to the present the room had become lively as bots and humans ran from left and right all seeming to know exactly where they were headed. 

Kup called for her as she turned back towards him and placed his hands down for her to climb up. “As much as I loathe an attack at least it keeps our snooping rascal busy.” he brought her close to his chassis and started jogging down an empty hall away from where the others were going. “Now everyone else is going to know what to do during an attack, this is probably a retrieval for Deadend. 

In the case that this is a full frontal invasion you should keep out of sight and bring no attention to yourself, someone tells you to do something you do it immediately and without hesitation we are trying to keep everyone alive and any decision you make could mean life or death for you or others. I’m going to hide you in the vent and move away to bring any possible enemy attention to myself, if an enemy comes close enough that you think they may see you move away quickly and quietly. Keep going until you are completely out of sight, I will find you later.” he unlatched the vent in the middle of the hall.

If the easy to open latch was any indicator they must have stuck more than one human in here before. Kup deposited her and closed her in, moving out of sight without another word. She could hear the cocking of a gun from the direction Kup had gone.

Gladiolus moved away from the entrance. A little farther in the floor went from having some kind of rubbery coating to pure metal making her steps suddenly much louder, startling her. The vent split off into two tunnels one led to another vent opening shining some light into it the other was pitched black.

Kup told her to stay put unless someone else shows up. 

That's fine, this is fine. 

In the vents.

The empty vents.

The completely empty vents.

A whispered voice proved otherwise. “Hello little mouse.” Slinking out of the shadows of the darker tunnel Buzzsaw tilted her head back and forth with each step forward while snapping her beak. Sparkplug had mentioned Soundwave in passing, telling her a little about each of the cassette bots he had. Buzzsaw was a spy and a femme bot. At first Gladiolus had thought he meant a female robot but upon further description it was explained to her that a femme was a faster frame originally made for delivery, espionage, or diplomatics with other planet type jobs. The sleeker frame was for speed and quick escape should the need be and the higher voice because the sleeker frame compressed the voice box (which was located in the chest) slightly. The mechanic was apparently considered to be a minor medical officer by cybertronian standards

“Oh shit.” She reminded Gladiolus of the raptors from Jurassic park. Stalking closer to its prey while it was trapped, its clawed feet tapping closer. 

“The autobots are getting so sloppy with their security. I can’t believe they didn’t know I was here, but you had a little something to do with that didn’t you?” Buzzsaw drawled. “Now I have to thank you for that if you had squealed it would have made this much harder.” She jerked her head towards the entrance of the vent as a shot went off.

Gladiolus had to brace herself on the wall, the blast was close enough to shake the floor. Kup was yelling. Buzzsaw had days to funnel information to her master and Gladiolus had known she was there, could have stopped her at any point by telling literally anyone she had interacted while here. 

She felt like an idiot. What was wrong with her? She had been so off kilter and not just because of the robots.

Buzzsaw rolled the tops of her wings like one would their shoulders. “Now that my thanks has been offered,” she shook herself, flaring her plating out. “We can have a little fun.” Buzzsaw opened her beak and made a scratchy staticy screech, charging full speed forward. 

A scream tore its way out of Gladiolus, rising out of her throat and tasting like iron. Running became her only option with nothing around she could use as a weapon. The brighter tunnel was only brighter until the next vent cover, passing it she flailed her arms in front of her. Both Buzzsaw’s and her own steps clanged on the steel floor, it was the only sense she could rely on and it was starkly unhelpful. Running blind became harder as she ran full force into a wall despite her hands in front of her, her head slammed into it filling her ears with static. She slid herself along to the left, groping the wall and bringing up her speed again. 

Yellow eyes waved back and forth dimmed enough to not shine on any of her surroundings. Childish laughter seemed to come from all around her bouncing off the metal walls making the sound verberate. 

There was nowhere to escape. 

Her heart was burning in her chest. Maybe she was screaming through her gritted teeth, she didn’t know, hopefully someone would hear her if she was. She was slowing, not used to sprinting at all. 

Coming up to another wall this time she managed to stop herself with her hands and shove off it in another direction. Finally some flickering light in the form of what was coming through another vent cover. 

Outside it was a battlefield in what must have been some kind of storage hanger. Both bots she did and didn’t know, some shots fired but most were fighting hand to hand making an awful ambient. It was hard to tell the factions apart, only the autobots she already knew and the ones she could catch a glimpse of the little red or purple markings on. 

The instant she watched out of the vent was too long. Buzzsaw danced around her, slinking low and spreading her wings out wide. 

“Bird of prey stalks the little mouse. I wonder who would win?” she tilts her head mockingly with the question. Gladiolus could only watch Buzzsaw deliberately tap her talons in a musical beat along the floor. “I have to say, while this wasn’t terribly fun it did bring me at least a little entertainment. Unfortunately it seems our time is up, my boss is quite particular about schedules, you know how it is. Anyway.” Gladiolus threw herself to the ground as Buzzsaw lunged, covering her face with her arms. 

A latch unlocked and in a fury of motion Buzzsaw was gone. Swooping through the fighting bots and into obscurity.

Her heart continued to race. Further into the venting system was another opening. And another past that.

The first had nothing and no one and no latch either. She felt little relief in the empty, especially because of the noise coming from the next vent opening. One set of feet were not especially reassuring.

The footsteps grew louder as she got closer and not just because she was closing the distance. Whoever was out there was getting closer to her as well. Pressing her back to the wall she peaked out.

A yellow light shined into the vent through the grate. 

Optimus was looking at her, Instead of his usual icy blue his optics were a sunshine yellow. Somehow both foreign and familiar the color bore into her. Neither of them blinked or looked away. Neither of them said anything.

“Little thing?” Optimus didn’t sound like himself, his voice was a sneer. The plates on his face made his nose look crinkled like how one would look at something disgusting.

His optics flickered and faded before becoming the color she had known them to be before, his face softened. “Gladiolus. Are you alright?” Like nothing had happened he was back to as she knew him to be.

“Are you?” She asked back. Behind him a wall had a crumpled hole through it, the sides jagged and still sizzling with heat.

He reached up and gently pulled off the grate, this one had no latch. “I’m am fine, I have only sustained minor surface damage. The attack today was not with the intention to harm or destroy it was only to retrieve Deadend.” 

She pointed at the blasted wall, it looked pretty destroyed.

“Ah,” Optimus paused with uncertainty. ”That was me?” He didn’t direct the question towards Gladiolus but more to himself. He shook his head and began to move. Reaching forward and offering a hand he carefully swept Gladiolus into his hold.

His steps were smooth, hardly jostling Gladiolus cupped in his hands. Stepping through the blasted hole she noticed along the edges some parts looked as though it had been peeled open with giant hands.but careful he may have been, slow he was not. 

The autobot base was full of hallways, rooms didn’t connect to each other through anything but more and more hallways. Optimus kept a running commentary until they were almost at the main hanger.

Looking through the doorway, a few other bots milled around. One in specific caught Gladiolus’s eye.

Jazz sat on the floor, the lower part of his leg looked dented and singed. He looked ok otherwise. 

If Gladiolus had mentioned having seen Buzzsaw earlier would he have not gotten injured? Guilt was familiar to her. It rose in her chest and made her face feel hot. 

After asking Optimus to put her down she made a not very quick jog across to Jazz.

“Hey little lady! Man what an interruption huh?” cheery as every Jazz made hint to being in pain. Even the hand placed on his leg didn’t shake or hesitantly touch. 

Whatever Buzzsaw had told the decepticons had helped do this. A few more injured came in. 

“I saw Buzzsaw-in the vent I mean.” throwing it out right in the open, she had kept the first sighting to herself and look at what happened. 

Jazz’s smile didn’t waver or fade and just leaned forward. Cupping his hand near his mouth to block view from others. “Something to know is that not a lot happens here that I don't know about.” He winked before throwing his hand up dramatically and exclaiming. “Aw, our funs already over?!” 

Kup scoffed in response. “I’m not humoring you right now.” 

Jazz gave a deep laugh. 

A whirlwind of bots and humans came in and out in various degrees of mildly injured. 

Jazz had known. This wasn’t her fault. He had known. Had he said anything? Done anything to try and stop this from happening? 

Somehow she was in Kup again going home. 

Inside her doorway she dropped her bag on the ground. Just wanting to lay down, she marched up the stairs and into her bedroom. Yanked the hair tie out of her tangled hair, dropping it on the floor beside the bedside table, she would pick that up later. 

Outside her window it was still quite bright out, she wasn’t even sure what time it was. Had it even been more than a couple of hours since she left this morning? Sitting on her bed she found she didn’t care. Her hands shook when she closed the blinds. 

It didn’t matter that her room was still lit with light or that it may not have even been noon.

 If she slept it was unrestful, if she was told that she had just laid there until it got dark she would have believed it. All the same the knock at her window drew her from her bed.

Somehow a shadow covered the window even with it dark outside. 

She grasped the bottom of the blinds, bracing herself to open the window and see nothing or those yellow optics again. 

Biting the bullet she pulled the blinds up.

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I cant stop thinking about this episode

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Recently got some acrylic markers!

Did the little bit of shading with a blue highlighter.

Had Megatron covered with tape while I was doing the background and it ripped the paper a little when I took it off.

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what does Ratchet's alt mode look like again

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My brain is tired, so Rung, Ring, Ring and Rung

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megs' designs kicked my ass but hey i finished them continuation from here

+more stuff:

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Thomas rents a semi truck that he affectionately nicknames Dolly.

“Dolly” however, just so happens to be a very embarrassed, very unamused, undercover Optimus Prime.

 She was a beauty. 

Gleaming red paint, newish tires, and a cute face like decal on the steering wheel and grill. 

And now she was all Thomas Winston’s, for the short foreseeable future as she was a rental from the company he worked for and in fact they had insisted that he take the very nice and somewhat new looking truck for his next haul. For half the price he would have expected too.

Why they specifically wanted this truck to get a bunch of crates of rocks, who knew and honestly who cared. The engine ran nicely and she drove smooth as hell. Thomas wasn’t about to complain about the oddities a bunch of pencil pushers had about which trucks were to pick up some shiny rocks.

Getting on the highway this early ensured the road was damp and empty. That worked out pretty well for Thomas, he was quite fond of just driving on the open road with just he, himself, and him. The only sound being the engine running, the tires on the road and, the radio quietly playing some country song about how great red dresses and beer are. 

It was perfect.

Now all he needed was a name for the truck.

Thomas had nicknamed every truck he rented no matter how long he was in them, some little thing would stick out about the truck, the job, or just general events. Thus far the only thing was the insistence that this particular truck be taken on the haul but nothing nickname worthy so far.

He patted the steering wheel. “We’ll find something to call you, I'm sure.” 

The song on the radio ended and the host began talking way too excitedly for this early in the morning, just as he thought to change the station the next song began. A song he knew well, it was one of his daughter’s favorites, Jolene by Dolly Parton. Madeline was all grown up now but when she was little she would dance around the kitchen and living room with Sherry, the most beautiful woman in the world that he got to call his wife, while Dolly Parton played.

Dolly had first played first on a radio that had both cassette player and cd player while matching brunette heads twirled and hopped around and then later on an ipod speaker, some of that hair a little grayer and now on a bluetooth speaker that you can talk to, a single all gray head swayed and hummed. 

It was always Dolly that he would come home to then and after this haul was done he hoped it would be Dolly that he came home to now.

Jolene ended, and with a few words from the radio host played ‘here you come again.’ 

“Well how about that? You know this will be my last drive and I hope I’ll be hearing a lot more like this once I’m home more." The little face on the steering wheel didn’t look back at him. “Dolly is as good a name as any and you seem as good a truck.” and thus it was decided the pretty red truck would be Dolly.

~~~

 Optimus was not amused by this development.

He didn’t like that he needed a driver for the long drive. He didn’t like that none of the agents who knew what he was didn’t have the right license to drive him so that had to get someone else, which meant he would have to go the entire drive stuck in his alt mode and unable to talk, thankfully it could be made in one day.

To make matters even worse his high command had insisted he keep his internal comm on just in case something happened, so whoever was on monitor duty could hear everything that his driver said.

Including his delightful new nickname. 

He was unable to voice his annoyance while his driver was still around however he was currently working on a scathingly worded email to his two dear “friends.”

And because the universe would not grant Optimus any peace. “I ain’t making fun of you Prime, I mean I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings you’re just a purty little thin-” Ironhide wasn’t able to fully finish his remark before Ratchet silenced him via what Optimus hoped was a fist to the side of the head. “Hey! I thought medics weren’t allowed to cause harm!”

“Don't worry I’m sure the thickness of your helm will have protected you.” technically they were only supposed to contact Optimus if there was an emergency, but Ironhide as one of his oldest friends decided it was his duty to make fun of him whenever the chance was given. Ratchet was but an innocent bystander to the scoffery and was coming to his rescue- “Obviously you have to be careful with your words around someone as delicate as Dolly Prime.” Optimus could hear the laughter in Ratchet's voice.

“Dolly Prime, name granted to him by the great Thomas.” Ironhide never did know when to quit.

Optimus was tempted to end the open comm. Nothing was happening, it was early and dark and there was no danger. He could just reopen it if anything were to happen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sent him on his own. I mean I would be devastated if anything were to happen to our beloved Do-” 

His rationalization and the self preservation of his sanity won. He clicked the comm off.

~~~

 A couple hours later he and Dolly had arrived. 

The whole thing had seemed strange as soon as he had pulled into the parking lot. 

The place was creepy. Crates upon crates of these blue rocks sat inside the warehouse, various people in suits stood around by all the exits and a man in an even fancier suit had talked to Thomas while the crates were loaded onto Dolly. 

Fancy suit man had introduced himself as senior director Hendrickson, he didn't say what he was the director of but he had bought Thomas lunch from a local grocery store and asked that he not leave while the truck was loaded as they intended to be as fast as possible. 

Sitting a distance away he could see a couple people talking in the direction of Dolly. They didn’t look like they were talking to each other, they also didn’t look like they were interacting with each other at all, just talking at the truck.

~~~

 Being loaded was an uncomfortable affair. Humans tended to forget, even when talking to him, that he could feel every time they touched him. Most would step in little crevices to lift themselves onto Optimus, stack things unevenly, and tell him things he was certain they wouldn’t have told other humans. He was sure if they worked efficiently he could have been back on the road much faster but they insisted that their way of doing things was superior to any of his suggestions. Stubborn little things humans were, it was sometimes a blessing but currently a bit of a curse. 

Agent Fowler had not been assigned to this particular matter and that in of itself meant a little more discomfort for Optimus. Fowler was good at convincing his fellows to seriously consider Optimus’s opinions on the little matters. Such as not stepping on his tires to give themselves a little lift when he had foot holds for that very reason damn it. 

He knew this trip was important, he didn’t want to send only humans to deal with the energon collection. It was a bit unstable in its solid crystal form, should anything happen, such as the appearance of a decepticon, he would be more comfortable being able to handle it himself.

Having said that, He was not about to suddenly become fond of senior director Hendrickson putting his foot on the front of his grill. He was uncomfortable, he had dirt in his seams and he couldn’t talk louder than a whisper in fear that his driver would hear him. How much trouble would it bring if he told senior director Hendrickson off, if Optimus just told him where he could shove it. How much damage would that really do to human relations? The director has had to deal with the twins before, with Sunstreaker he knows how belligerent an annoyed cybertronian could be.

Thomas’s unimpressed voice stopped Optimus from making a minor mistake in mild enemy making.  “There's dirt on your boots. I don't want to return her all dirtied up.” Her, while Optimus still didn’t fully understand human gender customs he had become used to being referred to with masculine pronouns, It didn’t really make much of a difference to him besides straying from the usual. The way Thomas said ‘her’ was with an underlying fondness to it. He must say it a lot in a way that speaks of love without outright saying it. “I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on anyone even if I wont see them again, and bringing back a truck with muddy footprints on the grill isn’t all that great of a thing to do now is it?” 

senior director Hendrickson sheepishly removed his shoe from Oprimus’s grill. Thoroughly chastised the man begrudgingly mumbled an apology only partially directed towards the one he had his gross shoe on.

Optimus would have liked to thank Thomas alas he was stuck playing an unliving truck. 

“Well Dolly, it is time to head back from whence we came.” Thomas patted his side as one would pat the shoulder of a friend. Optimus elected to not consider that he might have been patted like a dog. “Anything else I need to know about before I go?” He asked.

senior director Hendrickson shook his head and made his blessed exit. 

~~~

 Back on the road Thomas would put in his two cents that this drive back felt different. How so he didn’t quite know yet but he would figure it out before the end of this circuit. 

The radio was significantly less interesting now only playing obnoxious new age country that was teetering on the edge of becoming pop. it wasn’t the worst but now it was grating even after such a short time. The radio knob seemed a bit finicky when Thomas tried to turn it. It didn’t really turn like it should and it turned back almost immediately and hadn’t even changed the station at all. 

He took a moment to glare at the knob just to visually show his disappointment to the inanimate object before trying again to change the station. It changed to static and nice and smoothly as if it had been working the whole time, changed to some slow orchestral music.

It wasn’t the kind of music he would normally listen to but it was alright enough.

It certainly wasn’t, however, the kind of music that went with almost hitting a deer in a semi truck.

Which was what happened. 

A lone deer barreled into the road in the direct path of Dolly. Thomas was not going to be able to stop before he hit this deer. It was going to become a wet red smear on Dolly’s grill making much more of a mess than senior director Hendrickson’s shoe. Thomas in the short two seconds that he had to process and act to the deer had very few choices and no time to make said choices. 

The truck swerved. Thomas had not moved the steering wheel and the truck swerved, there was a loud clicking, metal on metal slid together moving apart and back together and a large hand extended from the passenger side pushing the ground to prevent the cab from tipping.

The deer continued running across the road disappearing into the woods on the other side. Dolly straightened out steadily, speeding back up to the speed limit.

“Oops.” the voice hadn’t been loud yet Thomas had heard it as if it had blared over the radio. The noncorporeal voice was not nearly as much a shock as the truck moving on its own.

Thomas no longer had his foot on the gas pedal. Dolly continued driving steadily down the road, thankfully there weren’t many others on the road at this time. 

Thomas was tense and unmoving. “This isn’t some bluetooth remote control shit is it?” it wasn’t really a question. Thomas wasn’t an expert on technology, he didn’t know the ins and outs of the internet or how coding worked, his daughter had to help him set up Sherry’s smart tv and despite having been there for the entirety of the set up he still didn’t fully understand how to use it. This he knew was not that kind of thing, this wasn’t something a human could make into a truck. What Dolly actually was he didn’t know, man made it surely wasn’t. “What are you?”

~~~

 What if he said nothing, what if he just dumped Thomas off on the side of the road and let senior director Hendrickson deal with the entire situation. It was an option. He could do that and just make a comm to headquarters letting the human department know where he had left the poor old man they had involved in this mess. 

Optimus wasn’t going to do that, it was a useless train of thought because Optimus was never one to let others deal with difficult situations if he was involved or could involve himself.

“My name is Optimus Prime. I am an autonomous robot from the planet Cybertron. I mean you no harm.” he had been told before that his usual introduction came on a little strong, nonetheless it was the quickest way to establish who and what he was.

“What the hell is an autonomous robot and why are you a truck?!” His “driver” was not understanding. Perhaps because Optimus was in his alt mode, the other humans had seen him in his bipedal form before he had explained what he was. That may have played a part in their understanding during the distress that is finding out about extraterrestrial beings that have taken harbor on their planet. 

“My name is Optimus Prime and I am an Autobot soldier who has taken refuge on your planet.” Thomas was making him nervous. He was slowly folding his arms and his face was turning from shock to a more stern anger. 

 A similarity between cybertron and earth is that on both planets the government really does ruin everything.

“I don't understand what you are,” Rude, what was there not to understand. “but you can move on your own so why am I here?” a reasonable question, even Optimus didn’t understand the humans insistence that he needed someone in his passenger seat. What was the point? He had been driving without one for years and never had any problems but then the government got involved and he was no longer “allowed” to drive on populated roads without a real human driver.

“I must apologize for startling you but the agency that I am harbored by insisted that I require a human driver.”

“Why didn’t they send someone who already knew about you?”

“They were unable to get somebody with a CDL license fast enough.” It was true. Apparently most of the agents with the licence were on either vacation or already away on assignment. Optimus had assumed incorrectly that they would leave him be for once but fate wasn’t that kind. 

Thomas started to relax. He sat back in Optimus's seat and looked around as if he was looking for oddities in the cab. “An alien robot. Huh.” he scoffed.”My last day working and I got the revelation that aliens exist. My daughter would love this.”

“I have found that many of our young human friends do find delight in the discovery of other living beings beyond their galaxy.” 

“Beyond our galaxy. Huh. you’re far from home aren't you?”

“Very. we are not quite sure where our planet resides now, it is dead and no longer in the orbit it once was.” Optimus had wondered before if humans could feel cybertronian fields or if they were just very perceptive. Cybertronians would act sad to show empathy but they didn’t truly feel the sadness they portrayed. Humans did, they would feel the emotion and confide in eachother with sharing experiences of the same or similar to the situation. The melancholy on Thomas’s face showed an understanding of some kind. He could tell that Thomas wanted to ask more about this, every human did they wanted to know about another planet and how one died.

“No, cybertronians have taken an array of different alt modes from land vehicles to air crafts as well as a few boats. We are a diverse transforming species. After arriving on your planet we took the form of non sentient vehicles to blend in and hide from our main enemies as well as any others who may want to cause us harm. Although we have made a many friends among your species, we have seen the cruelty of which humanity is capable.” 

“I take it by ‘we’ you mean there are more of you, are you all trucks?” It was said in good casual humor. A segue into a conversation less heavy was appreciated.

Thomas had many questions, many of which Optimus got to expound upon more than usual when it came to the introduction of other planetary life. 

It was calming, the frustration of the day melted away in the explanations of histories of his beloved planet and mechanical living technicalities. Even the traffic that had built was of no remark on Optimus’s now created good mood. 

Until.

“Ah, our drive is almost over.” It was a pity, Optimus was so enjoying the calm. Pulling into the driveway he reminded Thomas to put his hands back on his steering wheel. He’d prefer not to have to fill out the NDA paperwork. What would it hurt if one soon to be retired older man knew of his existence and he was already going to be in trouble about turning his comm off. Explaining the entirety of the situation to Thomas only made him laugh for a reason unknown to Optimus. 

Maybe a little louder than necessary. “I do believe me and Dolly had a mighty fine time.” He forgot about the nickname. And of course there was Ironhide slowly creeping his sorry aft into Optimus’s line of vision. Oh what's that? Ratchet just behind him why not. “Well Dolly! This is where we must part ways. It was a pleasure.” The bastard just patted him. Dog or friend he really wasn’t sure. 

Optimus should have just suffered through the paperwork.

 Maybe they would meet again one day, for now Thomas just wanted to get home to the most beautiful woman in the world who would be dancing around the kitchen to Dolly.

~~~

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Reposting this bc of something my friend told me! heres the whole of transformers: exodus because it took me forever to find a digital copy and convert it to an easy to share format

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I’ve put HD versions of all 270 shots in a Google Drive folder for reference purposes. Enjoy!

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(late)Happy holidays to all who celebrate! This was my contribution to a secret santa event, made for @the-chozo-lord