scienceglitches

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“Your answer is obvious; Deactivation,”

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Hewwo! Long time no see! I’ve had a lot happen since I logged back in here; Job change, lifestyle changes with the job change, a new spark for life, etc etc

Had a lot of new muses with new media I’ve been consuming, but still experiencing Shockwave’s ever clever self too and been considering just making a new [multi-muse] blog! I’m still on the fence about it, but I’m leaning more towards yes than nah! I’ll probs come back here and post the link anyways, but if anyone here would be interested in it you can send me an ask and I’ll send you the link privately once I get it set up! 

Either which way I hope everyone has been doing well and life has been treating you well!! 

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crime time

The chime came playfully, but the voice’s owner was enough to successfully have Shockwave raise his optic from his current project in all it’s time consuming productivity, “Crime time?” he repeats. 

   But it takes no other convincing for Shockwave to completely abandon the project for some time outside of his lab, standing and meeting Soundwave’s place at the entryway. 

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autobotmedic​:

     “… I strongly dislike the human idiom about having blood on one’s hands.”

     It bears a weight heavier than anyone who has not worked in an Emergency Room can possibly imagine, and yet it’s common usage was highly negative in nature, rather than having any association to surgical healing. 

     By now, he should have learned to disregard many phrases of humanity, but he hasn’t, and he won’t. With Ratchet, too many things can be taken personally.

 Antennae twitch to attention, they had worked together before (under less than desirable circumstances for Ratchet-) and surely then the medic bot proper had learned silence is where Shockwave worked most. Never mind bringing things up that were unrelated to the work flow. 

 The first response that clicks into place is ‘why worry for something that is no longer applicable to you’, but it’s clear that would only elicit a more aggravated response,”....”, which would undoubtly put an end to their progress for the day. 

 “Why?” he proposes, he knows only so much about Ratchet- a budding acquaintanceship-,”You are a medic bot, first and foremost,” unlike Shockwave who had been banished to a makeshift one,”If there blood were not on your hands, it would have only dirtied the floor alone and in suffering,”

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what about my portrayal attracted you to my blog?

if you would like to be more specific – what made you stay?

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soleresistar​:

The airship was heaving behind him, trying to catch up. The roar from the engine ricocheted with all consumed wrath across the walls, bellowing exhaust. And try as it might, the noise could not swallow him, not while he flew, deeper below the surface, where no light of the sun could reach. Within him, greater stars faded out for all he had seen, and all he must do, for there was always more. And the air around him shattered.

Outlast. It was written in every line of the code, how his wings brushed air, and how silver went streamlined and unblemished, within the corridors they crossed. Every second, every flicker of his spark, approaching the checkpoint. The finish line was dead ahead, and it was towards death the aircraft raced, though he knew he would not die. Free of capture, of that fear that commanded him to terrible deeds–no more. Not now–he hadn’t the time for that here, and there was nowhere to go but further, to where Shockwave was waiting.

He beamed with ready confidence, in himself, and in his partner. The transmissions spoke for themselves, he needed only to ping back to acknowledge reception. It was in the final moment he sped ahead, and the ship, large and caught unaware, could not match him. Shockwave’s assurance was all he needed, in in those words he had cast his next set of maneuvers, for all had come together, and at last the deed was done.

The flash of the scientist’s cannon announced the extinguishing of the ship’s engine, biting through metal and rivets. Shrapnel flew. And as the thing on his six bawled and wobbled, unable to fly anymore, he started to descend ahead of it. It took but seconds, though the look on his face seemed to last much longer. Soon they would know–they had never been masters, and they had been brutally deceived.

Starscream transformed again, turning fully to face the great machine. Quick as lighting both his heel struts slammed straight into the cockpit, leaving tear-sized cracks. With his claws and a few well-aimed blows, he turned streams into rivers. And he saw, through the visor of the ship, the faces of his enemies as they stared into his soul, swallowed entirely in a panic, and powerless to stop him. Only pure terror could meet the crash of his talons, only pain could make sense of his strikes, all while pieces of the fuselage splintered, and they tumbled down, down, toward the darkness that was the bowels of the chamber. Such a course suited only for fallen angels. And yet there were no angels here.

Damned fools. He thought, what end do I resemble?

Then he leapt, and aimed, and fired his missiles into the glass, so at last the canyon cracks opened up, and shards of the stuff shivered just like acid rain into the blast. They were but a few hundred feet above the bottom of the pit when it happened, and there was nothing either Autobot pilot could do, being blinded and frozen still with dread. The ship itself only seemed to accelerate in the wrong direction.

With the momentum, the Seeker passed over the dying thing, and as a falcon, flew strong as it twisted, and screamed, and fell. Smoke was the only shadow to pursue him, and he escaped the reach of it easily. It took him a short while to retrace the flight path, back to his partner, and beside whom he assumed his robot form once more. The sudden click of his wings in place completed the transformation sequence, and he clasped both hands behind his back.

“Well done,” his voice, drawn out in almost a hum, was dark as the space around them. A collaborative effort, planned and executed. Both had dedicated precious energon to see their project through–but they were alive, and unscathed, and presented even in their setback, with a host of new opportunities. It was a testament to their combined ferocity, and their wit, and their strength. Adaptability. Against all odds, they persevered, and in the ash of defeat, after losing a war, they’d won another battle.

In the ruins was the rising of a new age, so he towered over the wreckage from their place in the underworld. To a swifter rhythm, his spark pulsed below his chestplate, caught still in the rush of the flight, and the fight to stay alive. When time slipped, it settled, and he glanced from the ship to Shockwave, with whom he’d smothered the thing and the terrible sound it had shaped. No more room to rest–the next steps of action were in order, and it was with resolve that Starscream shifted his weight, from one heel to the other, and his attention as he stared into that crimson eye.

His own eyes were intense, and tired, and alight with a sentiment that could not exactly be formed with words. He did not know if Shockwave would understand–or if he even could fathom it himself, if given the chance. In the interlude, it could have been pride, or serenity. It dove deeper than what brevity could offer; but it was not so covert. He made no effort to conceal it, though he had no name for it, past the sense of accomplishment and necessity of survival that came from destroying a foe. Perhaps it was the fact that they had, whatever the requirement, emerged in unified victory, or perhaps it was that he’d every justification now for choosing to return over choosing to run.

But it was hardly appropriate, he thought, to dwell much on it now. Not so far from them, the Autobots lay in the mangled heap of their ship, either wounded or slain outright by the impact. He had to check their status–it would be unwise to merely assume their demise, or to leave the wreckage without scoping it for resources: those useful in the moment, or in the long-run. Whether or not they could scavenge directly from the fuel tanks was one of his most immediate concerns, nevermind the potential of rebuilding, or re-purposing a space-worthy vessel. As for the Autobots themselves, if Shockwave wanted to keep them, for his experiments or for performing a Patch, Starscream would not stand in his way. In that case they could likely strip some piping from the ship to tether them.

One step, for goals yet unspoken, and over unholy ground, Starscream went softly. If for nothing else, to reconsider what options were now available, and for what else they might have to calculate. Caution told him to prepare for the worst, or for disappointment at least, but whatever lay in wait, he had settled on the fact at last that he was not down here, in the dark, all alone.

He turned to look over his shoulder at the scientist, and flicked with his wings toward the trailing smoke, and the ship. “Shall we?”

 A ship that ran on it’s own, bulky and almost tyrannical under the pilot of the two over-confident autobots within. Heaving, and unjust, little did it know how soon it’s time was coming, something to be stripped of all necessities and to continue to rot down here where it should have never come a foot within. To so boldly and bravely think, that for a moment at all, they stood a chance against the ever scheming Ex-SIC of the Decepticons, was their downfall. There stood little any time to chance for them to consider their flaws, wrong doings, and idiocy. Actively choosing to dismiss either; The information of what Decepticons remained- or not seek it in whole before entering the stratosphere of their old home would be another dash in their processors that they would not have time to debate or mourn the guilt of. 

 The very moment they chose to follow Starscream somewhere that did not logically make sense, was the same moment that they decided they would die today and provide for what was left of the Decepticon cause. 

 Starscream, sure, may have been the butt of many jokes. A punchline for their Ex-Lord Megatron, literal and metaphorically, but it is in this pre-determined underestimation that Starscream is able to lie in wait. Able to consider his moves carefully, it’s here that he is given more time than he actually needs to conceive a plan of survival, something he is all too familiar with. Through the survival of the destruction of his Capital, through the daring and obstacle filled role of second in command, and through the times that he had even been defacto of the Decepticon affiliation. Starscream knew nothing but survival, and to undermine his prowess in it or in of his scientific curiosity and the results it could wrought was a blemishing mistake undefinable by the Human English language. 

 Outlasting, is a by product of survival and is arguably nothing short of how Starscream lived cycle to cycle life. Shockwave had no doubt that Starscream could out maneuver the situation, but the smallest percent of failure could not be ignored. In their positions, no matter how well off they may be in any given moment- there is nothing they should take for granted. Two outcasts, making do on the edges of a society that was due to overtake them like nature taking back over a city of a steel and smog. 

 As the large spacecraft spent it’s last moments suspended in air, dropping altitude by the astrosecond, it only took one pivot of his large frame to avoid the ship all together as it finally married to the ground. One glaring optic watching carefully as it continued to lose quality gradation. Scanning, recording, making note that the Autobots had not yet tried to jump ship- most likely in due to how little room there was making the emergency landing in all it’s lack of grace the safest thing to sit through rather than try and through theirselves out immediately to the wolves. A screeching halt eventually comes to right at Starscream’s heels, who’s all too ready to show these returning Autobots that not all is so safe again as they had been told and hoped for. It’s only for a moment that Shockwave sees his partner a top the cockpits visor, like a true hunter he is tormenting those stuck within. Full confidence is still placed in Starscream, and thus is why Shockwave takes his usual slow and heavy steps towards the new corpse of the ship. Shockwave had down what was needed of him, he is now only here as a mere backup should the Autobots prove they actually have more intelligence they originally let on. Screams of terror and pain that they could not have ever expected to experience this day echoing through the hole of the underground for no one of importance or saving grace to hear. 

 Just as soon as it had begun, it was all over. Settled and done. Two more meddlesome Autobot sparks snuffed out, and in a more grey area- a thankfulness that neither of them seemed to be of any importance. Just two more soldiers, mindless, and drought of a personality, who had simply chosen the other side on a whim he could not quite explain away either. 

 Eventually their strides land each other closer to one another, and one optic connects with two- each red in their own hue and right. The falcon expresses a sentiment that Shockwave did not desire and seek out, but it was an echo of something he needed to mimic. A moment to correct what Megatron had taken a millennia to train in of or out of Starscream,”You handled things swiftly, Starscream,” a statement that he felt is entirely true, but would not normally waste the time to point out, but it is a careful necessity. Shockwave, in order to achieve what either of them wants, needs to recover trust long lost and dismantled within Starscream. He needs Starscream to understand, at any moment, he sees no reason to think he can not handle himself. A capable bot, ruined by one of less capability.

 Shockwave knew already, both of them had perished in the crash and missile impact from Starscream. Their sparks were absent on his scanners, useless to potential Patching information, most likely they were running on the bare minimum- more so than either of them potentially before they had chosen to foolishly engage with the two remaining Decepticons. Leaving them weaker and more prone. A small advantage beyond their concise teamwork....

 Unsure of what else could be said, Shockwave continues his path towards the wreckage following after Starscream wing fwip. If they’re lucky, they had brought along extra energon from their trip, and to be even luckier would be that it is unscathed from the results of the victorious battle. Anything else, the scientist would count as a bonus. Supplies they could chaffeur from here back to their current, and more permanent base. A small treasure chest of things they could keep here, and always come back to at a later date- at least until it would finally be discovered by other Autobots. Whether they would choose to respond or not to the potential signal of a fallen and destroyed Autobot ship seemed likely- it was more a matter of if they would bother to clean it up when it was already obvious in some capacity they had taken what they wanted. Considering their options,”While you scavenge for any useful supplies, I will check on the Autbots,” 

 “Their sparks are gone, but it is possible they could have something useful on them,” sometimes, limp bodies could still be used for experiments...and while he didn’t exactly have the time for those more capricious experiment they could potentially have some sort of miracle map for energon with them- though it seemed most illogical for the latter. It did not stop, or occur to Shockwave, that a small fwip of his own undersized wings would potentially be inappropriate. 

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Proposed Hypothesis: Emotions are based in memories.

How far back did his go? Far enough. He is no protoform, no youngling. Where did they stop for him? If he gave himself even a moment to ponder far enough back he could remember coming to…Rising from a haze of silent slumber, to the distant sounds of cheering that overshadowed the sounds of metal clashing viciously against other metal with the anger of different facets; The situation, the unrelenting determination of life, the simple fact someone had stolen the competitors share of energon that morning.

No. This is not where it started. Shockwave’s memory banks went even further.

Keep reading

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A lil Bippity Boop on how I choose to portray Shockwave Vs ‘Emotions’   Since I’m aware there are some iterations where Shockwave was traumatized and literally cannot experience them (To the point Soundwave is unable to read his mind) but then there’s others (cough, cyberverseandanimated, cough) where he’s a but a bundle of emotions.

 This may be altered as I dig deeper into series and etc, but as of right now it’s where I am. Treat this as a reason why I do not want you to God Mod, out of anything, this particular subject.

But an ultimate TL;DR- If Soundwave can’t do it, your character definitely can’t do it either.

Keep reading

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ask-smokescreen

"I have lots of things, hey! You could take a look at me and try to figure out how I suddenly turned into a feline, right? Or maybe you examine me next time I use the phase shifter? Come on, Sockwave..."

 Antennae idly shift in both thought and curiosity, as much as he disapproved of the others high energy personality he offered few interesting things,”...” if he wanted to produce more experiments post Cybertron’s revival he would need to ‘make friends’ with the reigning Autobots.

 “Are you seeking a solution to reverse engineering your current frame?” but he still needed to be clear on their outlines of their arrangement.

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shocks shocks hey, shocks, if I gave you something really cool, would you mod my weird temporary frame?

 A single glaring optic takes in the Autobot and his apparently only “temporary” frame- ‘what happened here’,”.....”

 “What could you possibly have that would warrant any value to me, little Autobot?” at least he wasn’t incessantly poking him, like the last time.

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i’ve only followed @truedecepticon for a day, but if anything happened to them i would kill everyone and then myself

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Shockw ave, personally, sees Ratch as a more valuable Cybertronian than OP. He’s a library in his own right. 

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autobotmedic​:

{ I think about the fact that shockw ave could have killed an already heavily injured ratch a lot, if he genuinely wanted to, like… dude’s a tank you know, v big scientist, listen

(( V big scientist, had to handle injured and aggroed gladiators! Simply refuses to kill Ratch bc there is no logistic to it. Pointless actions are a waste of time even if that’s all Megatron does anymore, and time and time again I will advocate for the fact that Shockw ave ‘enjoyed’ his time with Ratch- Sorry KO, you simply do not reach the same scientific level and intellect that Ratch does. 

Ratch and Shockw ave could be friends.

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No have any idea

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laserbeak little pecking feeding ^__^ and buzzsaw enjoying chin scratches