#but man am I a fixer. man do I hear someone say they’re a bad person and then go ‘I’m sure you’re not all bad 🥺’

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 6

Who the F*ck’s Rebecca? OR How the 3 Gays got Together

Virgil learns about Roman’s childhood, specifically his sister and how he ended up dating Patton and Logan.

Warning: Misgendering of a character (but no one knows that the character is trans)

Yes, Roman and Remus are brothers. Explanations are listed at the bottom

Chapter 5 | Masterlist | Chapter 7

V- (2:07 PM) Let it Go was the best song in Frozen and you cannot convince me otherwise

R- (2:07 PM) I respect your opinion, but hear me out: Love is an Open Door

V- (2:08 PM) No

R- (2:08 PM) What about Fixer Upper?

V- (2:09 PM) Still no.

P- (2:09 PM) I really liked Olaf’s song about Summer!

L- (2:10 PM) I personally enjoyed the reprise of First Time in Forever.

R- (2:10 PM) You like almost any song with a reprise

L- (2:10 PM)I will not argue that, as successfully executed reprises are “lit.”

R- (2:11 PM) Ah, and who among us could forget the absolute BOP that is… that weird ice-cutting song.

P- (2:11 PM) I don’t know, Roman. I think that song is, pretty COOL

R- (2:11 PM) Oh, lookout

V- (2:12 PM) What? He’s just saying it’s a CHILLED out groove.

R- (2:12 PM) Ugh

L- (2:12 PM) We might need you two to leave this chat if you don’t stop.

Virgil laughed, throwing his phone on the bed and stripping out of his clothes. He just finished jogging home from Janus’ (he didn’t own a car right now, preferring to walk or have Janus pick him up). It was a lazy afternoon in late September, and all Virgil wanted to do was get out of these sweaty clothes and maybe take a nap. He heard his phone go off multiple times as he got dressed, probably Patton and Logan arguing about the purpose of puns. He flopped down onto his bed and grabbed his phone, checking the new messages.

P- (2:14 PM) Lo, the Princes are calling.

L- (2:14 PM) Tell Roman not to answer, Patton. We’ve been over this.

P- (2:14 PM) They’re asking about us, Lo.

L- (2:14 PM) Tell Roman to hang up. They’re not worth it.

P- (2:15 PM) They’re yelling now, L. They brought up Rebecca. What do I do?

L- (2:15 PM) Just walk into another room, Patton. Ignore them. Do you want me to call you?

P- (2:15 PM) No, I’m good. Just keep texting me. I need a distraction.

Now, Virgil had no idea about what the fuck was going on. But he knew how to distract someone. He’d just have to trust them to tell him later.

V- (2:16 PM) Did you know that octopi have 3 hearts?

L- (2:16 PM) What

P- (2:16 PM) That just means they have more love to give!

V- (2:17 PM) The longest recorded flight of a chicken is 13 seconds

P- (2:17 PM) Such a good bird!

V- (2:17 PM) Babies do not regularly produce tears until they are 1-3 months old

L- (2:18 PM) Ah, I think I understand now

V- (2:18 PM) A ‘jiffy’ is an actual unit of time. It stands for 1/1000th of a second

L- (2:18 PM) Falsehood. A jiffy is 1/100th of a second

V- (2:19 PM) Sorry, my hand must’ve slipped.

L- (2:19 PM) You would be unable to walk on Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus or Neptune because they have no solid surface.

L- (2:20 PM) An asteroid about the size of a car enters Earth’s atmosphere roughly once a year. However, it burns up before it can reach us.

L- (2:20 PM) The highest mountain known to man is on an asteroid called Vesta. It is approximately three times the height of Mount Everest.

P- (2:21 PM) I think they hung up. Thanks for keeping me company, Kiddos!

L- (2:21 PM) It was not an issue, Patton.

V- (2:21 PM) Yeah, no problem Pat. Now can someone explain what just happened?

L- (2:23 PM) As you can probably tell, I am not home at the moment. Apparently, Roman’s parents decided to call him and an argument broke out. The rest is not my place to say.

Virgil bit his lip, refusing to look at his phone screen. Did Virgil have the right to ask about that. It was obviously a very sensitive topic, and Virgil had only known Roman for about 3 months now. Virgil felt like he knew a lot about his 3 crushes (their quirks, their favorite sweets, their goals in life), but he knew very little about their lives before Virgil had met them. Which was fine; they knew very little about Virgil’s life, too. But he desperately wanted to help Roman; to make him feel happy and safe and loved. Virgil sighed, setting his phone on his nightstand. If Princey wants to tell me what’s going on, I’ll listen. If not, I’ll just have to deal with it.

Virgil woke up from his nap to the sound of his phone going off. He blindly felt around for it, his face still firmly planted in his pillow. He finally found it, turning it on before he lifted his head to read the text. It was a private message from Princey.

R- (3:02 PM) You’re probably wondering what happened today.

V- (3:02 PM) I am, but you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable. I’ll respect your privacy.

R- (3:02 PM) As much as I appreciate that, you still deserve to know.

R- (3:03 PM) Do you mind if I call you? This doesn’t feel like a conversation to have over text.

Virgil thought about it for a moment. He originally never wanted to call Roman, simply because he might recognize Virgil’s voice as Anxiety’s. However, not only was Virgil 99% confident that Roman had never even heard of The Dark Sides, Virgil’s head was still foggy after his nap. Before he knew it, he was already calling Princey’s phone.

“Virgil?” Roman didn’t sound as… grand as Virgil expected. His voice was subdued and slightly hoarse, probably from the screaming match with his parents.

“Heya, Princey.” Virgil cringed at how gravelly his voice sounded. He’ll need to get some water after this conversation is over.

“You sound so tired. Oh my stars, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get back to sleep-”

“Princey, it’s okay. Just finished my nap. Might not talk much, but ‘m all ears.”

“Alright. Where do I even begin?”

“Take your time. ‘m not pressurin’ you or anythin’.”

“(sigh) You’re right. I guess I should start at the beginning. I grew up in a very... conservative household. My parents expected me and my sister, Rebecca, to be perfect. ReeRee was my partner in crime. We did everything together up until highschool. My parents expected me to get a football scholarship and date the hottest girl in school. I did those things, not because I wanted to, but because they wanted me to. ReeRee was a different story. When my parents signed her up for cheerleading, she tried to join the football team instead. When they told her she should wear her hair in a ponytail, she cut it off to match mine. I didn’t understand, and it made me angry. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror; she was starting to look more and more like me, and yet each change made my parents angrier. Why was looking and acting like me a problem? I thought they liked this version of me! One night in the summer before junior year I was really frustrated and I took it out on her. I told her to stop acting like me. I knew she didn’t deserve my anger, so I went to Patton’s place to cool down. By the time I came home, my parents refused to acknowledge that I even had a sister. I pushed her away, and now I’ll never get her back.

After that, things changed. I was so angry, and everything I saw reminded me of her. I quit the football team, because every time I went down to the field I expected to see her. I dyed my hair, because every time I looked in the mirror I saw her staring back. I stopped caring about what my parents thought, ‘cause it was their opinions that dragged me into this mess!

I had already been friends with Patton since Freshman year, but me and Logan had been at each other’s throats . We were always bickering about something, and sometimes I used our arguments to vent out my anger at whatever was wrong at the time. I didn’t even realize how much I had cared about Patton and Logan until I learned about the LGBTQ+ community. My parents were super strict, and Patton and Logan didn’t exactly flaunt their relationship. I had no idea that liking guys was even an option . Once I learned about it, my parents quickly tried to shut it down. Everyday, they’d start their day telling me that ‘homosexuality is a sin’ and ‘God made you to be the gender you were born with!’ If they had told me that before ReeRee left, I might’ve believed them. But by this point, I didn’t care about a single thing they told me.

So one day, I’m arguing with Logan about who knows what, and suddenly we’re inches apart, and I remember pa saying ‘ a boy should never kiss another boy.’ And just think, ‘Fuck it.’ And now me and Pocket Protector are suddenly making out behind the school building. Microsoft Nerd asks why the hell I decided to make out with him of all people, and I break down right there. He agreed to keep it a secret, but he refused to do anything more than a simple make-out session until he had Padre’s consent to do so. Which I understood, consent is important, cheating is bad.

Now we’re having these ‘sessions’ at least once a week for almost 4 months. Patton eventually walked in on us and he was understandably upset. I explained what had happened and that I’ve had a crush on both of them for a while. And they’re like ‘cool, we’re polyam.’ And now I’m starting senior year dating two men, which mom and pa were not okay with. I told ‘em to fuck off and we moved away as soon as we graduated. They still call occasionally, asking when I’m gonna get my life together and get over losing ReeRee. I haven’t blocked ‘em yet in case they find her or change their minds.”

Roman finally took a deep breath. “Sorry about the rant. Didn’t realise how badly I needed to get that off my chest.”

Virgil snorted. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Told ya I’d be a good ear. And Princey?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t gotta do anything to impress someone else. You bein’ you is good enough. And if Rebecca could see you, I’m sure she’d be proud as hell. And don’t be ‘fraid to hit me up if you need someone other than your SOs to rant to; I’ll always be here for ya, Princey.”

“... Thank you, Virgil. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that until you said it.” He sighed, and Virgil could hear the sound of running water. “I’m gonna go drink some water. My throat burns like a bitch right now.”

“Same. Catch you later?”

He could hear Roman chuckle to himself. “I guess you shall. Farewell, Storm Cloud. And pleasant dreams!”

Virgil blushed. The way Roman said his nickname… it made Virgil’s gay heart nearly explode. He quickly hung up and buried his face back into his pillow. I’ll get water later. AFTER my heart stops racing.

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Now, for those of you wondering about why Virgil doesn't realize that Roman and Remus are brothers, I'm gonna put a quick explanation here, 'cause I don't know how to casually fit this into the story. 1.) Remus has never told Virgil his deadname or his last name. He's probably told Janus (since their pretty close) but Virgil doesn't know. 2.) Remus has never told Virgil that his brother's name is Roman. Additionally, when Virgil is talking about the 3 gays, he only calls them "Pat, Lo and Princey." 3.) Roman's parents didn't tell him that Remus transitioned, so he doesn't know that Rebecca now goes by Remus. Also, none of the characters have actually sent pictures of their faces, so none of them have any idea what the other looks like. 4.) It is a total coincidence that both twins moved to the same town. Remus believes that Roman still lives in their hometown, and Remus could be dead for all that Roman knows. There is no logical reason for them to think "maybe Virgil's friends with my long-lost sibling" 5.) Virgil would NEVER out his friends like that. He tells Janus and Remus everything, but he would NEVER betray Roman's trust like that. Same thing for telling Roman about Remus. Roman might know that Remus is trans, but he doesn't know about Remus' background. ONE LAST THING: Roman and Virgil will eventually see each other face-to-face but WON'T recognize each other's voices. This is because during the phone call Virgil is still groggy from waking up and Roman is still hoarse from screaming.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[shatteredglassanimated]

Shattered Glass Animated Season 1 Episode 7 - Thrill Of The Hunt

Blackarachnia is forced to re-live a traumatic event from her past when Megatron is kidnapped by a mysterious mech named Lockdown.

“Can you believe the depravity of some humans? This so.. primitive and vulgar! I think I’m going to regurgitate just from looking at it.” Blackarachnia looked down on the crate in front of her with barely veiled disgust.

Megatron raised an eye-ridge beside her putting down an identical container. “It is merely a box of spare parts, Blackarachnia.”

Blackarachnia huffed. “You mean the Resistance actually uses those for their machines? That’s even worse!”

The metal parts in the box glinted innocently in the moonlight shining down on the old warehouse. Following a tip from the Resistance, the Decepticons had searched the place out in order to provide their human allies with some much needed materials. Not all of it could be taken of course, but the Decepticons had resolved to transport as many of them as possible.

“Well, they don’t have much of a choice now, do they?” Blitzwing chuckled, walking over to lay a hand on Blackarachnia’s shoulder. “Try not to think too much about it. Just enjoy the temporary silence.”

Megatron nodded. “Blitzwing is right. I know things have been stressful lately and I have been demanding a lot from you and Starscream in particular. A simple errand like this might be the closes we will come to resting for a while.”

Blackarachnia ex-vented, crossing her servos. “Fine. I’ll try. It’s just...” He bent stingers twitched on her back, eliciting a couple of small sparks. “I’ve been having a bad feeling ever since we got here. My stingers are aching worse than usual. Normally, that means trouble.”

Megatron looked at her, optics growing sad. “We... have never spoken about that mission since, have we? It must still trouble you.”

Blackarachnia stiffened. “It doesn’t matter, because I still don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped, glaring up at Megatron.

“W-Well, you don’t need to,” Blitzwing said quickly, laying a calming servo on the smaller femme’s shoulder-plate. “Like I’ve been saying, perhaps we should just enjoy the quit night.”

Just then, the sound of an engine tor through the air. At almost the same time, a red light flared up, across the field. The Decepticons whirled around. The source turned out to be a black and dark-blue muscle car, flashing it’s headlights right at them.

“So much for silence,” Blackarachnia remarked, clenching her hands into fists.

Megatron raised a hand to placate her. “Easy now. It might well just be a human who lost their way.”

“I don’t think so,” Blitzwing said nervously, optics never leaving the muscle car. “Aaron told me this district has been vacated for solar cycles.”

Megatron frowned. “Perhaps we should-”

Before he could finish, the car jerked forward. It raced at the three Decepticons, on a clear collision course. They jumped aside, the car narrowly missing them. The muscle car didn’t stop, instead driving onto the road and towards the city.

“Do you think it’s one of Sumdac’s?” Blitzwing asked, staring after it with wide optics.

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “If it is, we cannot risk it getting away. Both of you, transform and rise up!”

Blackarachnia, Blitzwing and Megatron transformed. Megatron informed Starscream and Lugnut about what happend over the comlink, while Blackarachnia jumped onto Blitzwing’s vehicle mode, digging her pincers in to not fall off. The followed the car from the air as it sped through the streets, it’s driver evidently not caring whether or not the citizens were fast enough to dive out of their way.

A human man and woman attemtped to cross the street, as the car turned around the corner, making no effort to slow down. Megatron quickly transformed into robot-mode. He landed on a nearby rood, cut the billboard off with one of his swords, then jumped down onto the street with the board on his back, creating a makeshift-ramp.

The muscle car neither slowed nor stopped. It raced up the ramp and jumped right over the terrified humans, landing and driving on as if nothing happened.

“Perhaps you should look both ways before crossing the street next time,” Megatron joked to the humans, setting aside the board.

The humans nodded hastily, then quickly made their way to the sidewalk.

A few streets away, Blackarachnia and Blitzwing scanned the ground for the muscle car. Blackarachnia jumped off of Blitzwing’s back, transforming into he robot-mode and planted herself firmly in the car’s way. The car didn’t stop. It drove at her, engine’s howling.

Blackarachnia stiffened. The sound was familiar, somehow. It seemed to drown out everything else around them. She thought she heard someone call her name, but by that point she wasn’t in the present anymore.

                                            -----------------------------------

Blackarachnia made her way through the dark alleys of Central City as silently as she could manage, optical sensors always vigilant. Although she had studied the citiy’s map extensively and so far the infiltration had been going smoothly, her pessimistic nature prevented her from cooling it a little just yet. After all, she had rather painful past experiences with running out of luck at the worst time possible. For what had to be the hundredth time this solar cycle she silently cursed Megatron for having chosen her for this particular mission.

“You have been on Cybertron more recently than all of us,” he had said, almost apologetic. “And your organic half makes it impossible for them to pick up your energy signature. I know of no other bot I could entrust this mission to. Please give it some thought.”

In the end she had caved, with grumbling and more than a few words that some would call unbecoming of a femme.  After all, Megatron rarely asked a fellow Decepticon to put themselves in danger if he wasn’t absolutely sure they could handle it. Or if he didn’t have a choice. With this, it was a mix of both. Blackarachnia had to admit, she had already been half convinced to go when he had told her it was an extraction mission.

One of their spies, who had been penetrating the Autobot Intelligence Office for some time now, was said to have been compromised. He’d apparently run into trouble trying to escape the Elite Guard and was now stranded somewhere around the area she was currently sneaking through. Hearing this story, something in her spark just...reacted. Blackarachnia knew, probably better than anyone else, what it was like to be alone on a hostile planet, with seemingly no one coming to your aid. Merely remembering the feeling of despair and fear made her flinch.

But she had been found eventually. And so would their spy.

A re-assessment of the area’s map on her wrist-monitor told her she was getting close to the rendezvous point.  Keeping her optical sensors open for any hints of a trap, she stepped out of another alley and onto a deserted cross-road between four large structures. If their intel was correct, the area was largely deserted, so there was no risk of a random Cybertronian citizen suddenly sticking their helm out of a window and surprising her or her target. Speaking of…

There was no sign of another bot here. Had she come to the wrong place? Just as she thought about risking a scan of the perimeters, she heard clunky, uneasy steps coming from her right. She whirled around, stingers at the ready. Across from her stood an Autobot, about two times shorter than her, stocky in build, with a strange, blue ornament on his helmet right above his piercing red optical sensors, leaning heavily on the wall to his right.

Blackarchnia was about to jump him and give him a good taste of her narcotic venom, when he raised a hand.

“Wait! I’m the one...you are supposed to meet.”

His voice sounded exhausted, like he was in great pain. Blackarchnia halted in her movements, giving him a skeptical look. “You’ll excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”

The Autobot chuckled sheepishly. “I am deeply sorry for my appearance. Normally I would change and show you my real form but you see...I’ve had a few altercations on my way here.” He stepped out a bit further into the light. Blackarachnia flinched.

His right leg had been ripped off from the knee up, leaving nothing but a couple of sparking cables. That was enough to dispel most of her leftover doubt. She highly doubted any Autobot would go so far as to dismember themselves on that level just to fool a potential infiltrator. Letting some of the tension go out from her body, she made her way over to the spy, supporting him on his free shoulder and getting a closer look at his leg. The cables shocked her when she attempted to examine them manually, making both of them hiss in pain.

“Well, that’s gonna be a real fixer-upper later on,” she remarked with grim humor.

The spy-bot groaned, sinking into her shoulder a bit. She nudged him lightly.

“Hey, stay with me! You can take all the stasis naps you like later, but right now I need you to stay online. What’s your name?”

The question seemed to at least partially pull him out of his pain induced daze. “They… gave me the name Longarm… when I came into their ranks…but…my real name is…Shockwave...Ma’am.”

That got a smile out of her. “Don’t give me that ‘ma’am’ slag. We’re both Decepticons, aren’t we? Call me Blackarachnia.”

“Y-yes, ma’am – yes, Blackarachnia,” Shockwave quickly corrected himself returning her smile. She couldn’t help but notice it looked a little weird on that Autobot face-plate of his, like he wasn’t used to making expressions. Nevertheless, it was nice to see he was comfortable with her presence. She had expected at least some comments about her organic parts, but she supposed his situation gave him little room to complain.

“Good. Now that that’s out of the way, I need you to listen Shockwave. You see those two antennae on my back?” He nodded. “They’re stingers that release a strong, narcotic venom when applied. I’m going to use them on you, so I can patch up your leg.”

“N-no!” Shockwave exclaimed, optics wide with fear. He tried to straighten himself in order to look at her, which proved to be both difficult and painful with his damaged servo. “I carry valuable…access codes...in my processor. They are too important...to be lost!”

Blackarachnia sighed, adjusting her position so he wouldn’t fall over. “Cool your crankcase, will you? It’s just a small dose. I’d need to administer ten times that much to damage your memory core.”

That seemed to calm him down a bit.  After thinking it over a little, he gave her a nod. Blackarachnia had to suppress a relieved vent. Repairing him while he was still fully online would have been extremely unpleasant for them both.

She shifted her arms so she was now holding him around his shoulders. “This will sting a little,” she warned him, gently touching her stingers to the spots between his shoulder plates and his helmet. When she released her venom he flinched a little, but then slowly went numb in her arms, his optical sensors slowly offlining themselves.

She lowered him to the ground and leaned him against the opposite wall, pulling out the tools she needed to work on his leg. It took quite a bit of time, since she didn’t have exactly the right spare parts on hand. The defaults she’d packed for emergencies would have to do for now. With their help she at least managed to re-build the base structure of a leg.

Just when she was about to adjust her handiwork a little, she heard a noise down the street. Blackarachnia turned around quickly, putting herself between the direction she thought she’d heard the sound coming from and Shockwave’s motionless chassis. She strained her optical sensors to the max, but try as she might, she couldn’t make out anything in this darkness. Then someone called her name...

                                 --------------------------------------------

“Blackarachnia!”

She flinched. Someone tackled her, throwing her to the side. They rolled around, her ending up on top.

The muscle car sped by, backlights slowly disappearing into the night.

Megatron touched down next to them. “Are you alright?“ he asked, bending down to offer them his hands.

“I’m fine,” Blackarachnia snapped, slapping away the hand offered to her and jumping off of Blitzwing.

A whirring sound informed her that Blitzwing had switched.

“You call that fine?” Hothead yelled. He, too, ignored Megatron’s offered hand when he pushed himself onto his pedes. “You froze up like it was december and you still had a crankcase!”

Blackarachnia whirled around, glaring up at Hothead. “I didn’t freeze up! I just...” She paused, stingers on her back twitching. “My Cybertronian parts must have glitched.”

“Well, you’re evidently not the only one glitching,” Hothead huffed, glaring in the direction the muscle car had disappeared in. “What was that human’s malfunction?”

                             ---------------------------------------------

The muscle car drove down the streets. It had dimmed it’s lights for the time being. Inside, a small monsitor lit up, showing images of the three Decepticons that had chased it a few moments ago.

                              -------------------------------------------

Back at the mines, Blackarachnia stared intently onto a screen in fron tof her. It displayed a scan of her stingers. The venom-flow was irregular, but that wasn’t new. There was nothing else out of the ordinary. That should have calmed her down. Instead, the feeling of dread in her tanks only grew. That muscle car had awakened memories. Memories long buried. It send off wanring bells in the back of her processor. She didn’t want them to be right.

“If I’m not mistaken, this marks your tenth self-diagnostic tonight,” someone said behind her.

Blackarachnia turned. Megatron was standing in the doorway, smiling slightly. “How many more will there be?”

“As many as neccessary,” Blackarachnia answered curtly, turning back to the screen.

“Do your stingers bother you that intensely?” Megatron asked.

Blackarachnia stiffened. “Still don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You should.” She heard Megatron stepping closer. “Believe me, I understand better than anyone the need to surpress the darkness in ones past. But sometimes, it might help to open up. To a friend, or an unbiased third party. You know I am always there if you wish to get something off of your chestplate.”

“Are you done?” Blackarachnia snapped.

Megatron ex-vented. “Apparently I am.”

She heard him walk out of the room. Part of her felt guilty. She knew he’d only wanted to help. But the part of her that dreaed the possibility of re-living that one solar cycle again, after having successfully buried it for so long wanted to stay put and find something else to blame for what had happened earlier.

Her optics stayed glued to the monitor. Eventually she gave up, switching off the monitor. She crossed her servos and tapped her pede in thought. She should apologize. Perhaps even voice her suspicions. There was nothing to gain from hiding in the med-bay.

Determined to get over herself, she walked out into the tunnels and made her way to the main room.

She heard Professor Black’s voice before she entered to see the group assembled in front of the monitor. He had chosen to settle in the Decepticons’ base, instead of accompanying the rest of the humans, reasoning that if anything were to happen, the Decepticons already knew of a way to “contain” him.

“-so I have been monitoring the local traffic police. And I’ve come across these surveillance recordings.” He had to have done something after that Blackarachnia couldn’t see.

The screen displayed footage from the view of a police drone’s in-built camera, chasing a familiar muscle car. Blackarachnia stiffened as soon as she saw the dark blue headlights. The omnious glow filled out her vision, until suddenly the walls of the mines were once again replaced with the streets of a small, cybertronian city.

                              ----------------------------------------

Cursing under her breath, Blackarachnia  turned back to her patient.

“Change in plans,” she murmured, although she doubted he could hear her. “We’re moving out now. Sorry in advance for the next part, but I think you’ll agree I’m a little out of options.”

She produced a long spider threat and wrapped Shockwave up tightly, giving the string a few tugs to make sure it wouldn’t come off. Then she changed into her spider form, using her hind-legs to lift Shockwave onto her back and secure him there. He was heavier than she’d anticipated and she briefly wondered if that was because he had to compress his true size and mass into this presumably smaller Autobot chassis. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“I’ve got our escape route all mapped out,” she told him, keeping her voice low in case her audio sensor hadn’t been acting up earlier. “Hang in there, I’ll have you home in under an orbital cycle.”

Swift as can be she crawled into the narrow street behind her. She would make her way back to the nearest sewer plate, use her string to get herself and Shockwave down and from there it was only a few clicks to her small, but fast ship. If she was lucky, Shockwave should have rebooted himself again once they were on board and she wouldn’t have to spend the long ride home in complete silence. She was rather curious to hear his story.

What could have possibly been important enough to break off his mission, steal from the Autobot Elite Guard and try to make a run for it on the same orbital cycle? If nothing else, having these questions answered would satisfy her curiosity. If he was even allowed to tell her, she mused.

She was torn out of her thoughts by the unmistakable click of biolights being activated. Right behind her. Blackarachnia cursed internally. The next moment, a piercing blue light flared up all around her, making her squint and slow down. Fortunately, her training prevented her from stopping in her tracks entirely. It also caused her to come out of her daze way faster than a civilian would have.

“Go find someone else to play with, Auto-bastard!” she snapped, spitting a sticky spider-threat onto the nearest structure and pulling both her and Shockwave upward. She regretted the decision almost immediately. It was one thing to swing around when she was alone and had all her servos free, it was another thing entirely to be doing it with a Primus knew how many tons heavy fellow Decepticon on her back.

Both of them ended up smacking against the structures wall far lower and harder than she would have liked. 

No time whining over spilled oil, she thought, clenching her denta when her sensitive belly protested against the rough impact.

With a determined vent, she started climbing, using two of her hindlegs to check on her passenger. Fortunately, the string securing Shcokwave’s chassis to hers seemed to hold tight for the moment. Dragging him and herself on top of the structure, she took a quick look around. Going into the sewers where she had intended to was not an option anymore. But she was good enough at terrain assessment to relate the structures around her to the map she’d been studying before her departure.

The area was densely cultivated enough for her to jump from one structure to another, even with Shockwave on her back. The Autobot had no way of following her up here fast enough to see where exactly she went. Taking as much of a run-up as she could with the weight on her back, she jumped onto the structure to her right. Her joints began to ache from the impact but she paid it no mind. She could work out her dents when she was back on the ship.

Repeating the process a few times, she made her way over Central City, optical and audio sensors sharp. She had no desire to be jumped like that again. Eventually, her internalized map of the area told her she was close to another sewer entrance. It was farther away from the ship than her original access point, but certainly safer to use for now. She carefully crawled down the side of the structure she was currently on, grunting with effort.

“You owe me big time for this,” she whispered, forelegs scraping as she tried to prevent herself from slipping.

It became easier to walk when they were back on the ground. Then trickier again, when she had to use her pincers and forelegs to open the duct cover. Then even more tricky when she had to rope Shockwaves’ still motionless form down into the dark, without making too much noise. At least she could climb down in robot-mode this time.

Her steps seemed to echo unbearably loud on the ladder, only barely drowned out by the sound of muck and oil rushing by. When she had made it all the way down, she took some time to check up on her charge. He was still not fully online. Good for him.

And then she heard the roar of an engine. Blackarachnia cursed. She transformed back into her spider-form and clumsily heaved Shockwave on her back. When the pursuer came around the corner, she was already scurrying down the pipe. Suddenly, a row of spikes protruded from the ground. If she’s still had tires in her alt-mode, they would have been shredded. As it was, one of her spider-legs merely stepped unlucky, coming directly on top of one of the spikes.

Blackarachnia hissed in pain, using her seven intact legs to make a turns. She let Shockwave slide off her back. She had no chance of out-running this Autbot with an injured leg and a massive weight on her back. There was no other option but to fight. She transformed into robot-mode, quickly laying a hand on Shockwave’s servo, not letting her optics leave the Autobot.

He was about a few steps away from both of them. When he saw she had transformed, he stopped and did the same. Blackarachnia clenched her denta. He was taller than her, but a lot of ‘Bots were. There were spikes all over his shoulder-plates and neck. His optics were a strange tint of blue. Not as light as a Decepticons, but not entirely dark either.

“Now what are you hiding, spider-bot?” he grinned. “Wouldn’t be a Decepticon-double agent by any chance?”

He raised an arm. His fist came loose, shooting right at her head. Blackarachnia pulled up her arm, hoping that donwloading Shockwave had provided her with something useful. It did. There was now and arm-canon mounted on her servo. One shot and the Autobot’s projectile exploded into tiny pieces.

Blackarachnia lunged forward, stingers out. She didn’t want to give her opoonent time to recover. Unfortunately, he hadn’t needed it anyway. The Autbot grabber by her unarmed servo and threw her over his hip and on her back, hard.

He made a disapproving sound, off-set by the ever-present, smug grin on his face-plate. “That all you got? You’re gonna put me to sleep.”

Blackrachnia glared at him. “I’ll put you to sleep alright.”

She bent her stingers down on his arms. When he pulled back, she raised her arms cannon and shot at his head. He dodged. The beam his the ceiling instead, making rubble rain down on her. Balckarachna grunted, trying to pull herself out. The Autobot looked down on her triumpahtnly.

He pulled his intact servo back. The last thing she saw was his fist coming down on her face-plate.

                                      -----------------------------------

“Blackarachnia?”

Her optics activated in a snap. Blitzwing was standing in front of her, already in vehicle mode.

“Did you hear what Megatron said? We will be searching the human in the muscle car from the sky.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t throw a rod,” she snapped at him. She rubbed her servo. There was no arm canon.

“Blackarachnia,” Megatron’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “If you feel unwell, you can monitor us with Professor Black from here.”

“I’m fine!” Without waiting for a response, Blackarachnia transformed into her alt-mode and jumped onto Blitzwing. “Let’s ‘rise up’ or whatever.”

She could feel the others were not entirely convinced, even without seeing their face-plates. Her irritation grew. Why couldn’t they just drop it? It was her problem, not theirs.

The Decepticons took off towards the city. It didn’t take them long to find the muscle car again. It wasn’t particularly hiding. When Lugnut spotted it engaged in a police chase, several droned in hot pursuit.

On Megatron’s orders, Lugnut took care of the drones. Megatron flew closer to the ground.

“Human,” he called out to the still dirving car. “This does not have to get violent. We only wish to talk.”

Instead of answering or stopping, the car’s exhauts port released two strange little balls. Upon touching the ground, they released a thick black smoke, clouding the Decepticon’s vision. Megatron barely managed to stop himself after almost ramming into another human vehicle coming down the street.

It’s humand river hit the breaks as soon he saw Megatron’s robot-mode, but couldn’t prevent his vehicle from ramming tino the Decepticon’s leg. Megatron bent down to eye-level with the human.

“I apologize for the damage to yor vehicle. I believe something called ‘insurance’ will take care of it?”

The human nodded silently, eyes wide. Megatron gace him what he hoped was an ecouraging smile, then transformed and took off again.

Meanwhile, Blitzwing and Balackarachnia were already on the muscle car’s tail again.

“Lugnut,” Blitzwing called. “We are sending him your way!”

Lugnut’s red biolights flashed up in fron of the muscle car.

The car’s hood slid open,and a strange looking contraction rose up from it. It turned to Blitzwing, then to Lugnut, shooting out two strange projectiles while doing so. The two Decepticons had not time to evade. Both of them were hit.

Blackarachnia hurt Blitzwing make strange sound underneath her in warning. His vocalizer sounded glitched and slow. Thinking quickly, she shot a thread out to a nearby building and drilled her legs into his armor-plating, just before his engines gave out.

The thread caught them mid-air, enough for Blackarachnia to lower them down to the ground slowly. She jumped off and both her, Blitzwing and Lugnut transformed back into robot-mode.

“Coward!” Lugnut huffed. “Relying on such dirty tricks...”

Blackarachnia didn’t answer. She was starin at nothing i particular, optics wide.

“That car...,” she croaked, slowly wrapping her servos around herself. “That weapon just now...No, it’s impossible!”

                                 -----------------------------------------------------

She came back online slowly. The first thing she noticed was a strong ache in her stingers. When she tried to move them, pain shot down her back and she hissed. She was lying on a metal floor, the room around her dimly lit. Shockwave was nowhere in sight.

She scrambled to her feet, still only barely conscious and limped towards the light. It turned out to be a forcefield-door. She was in a cell. Blackarachnia fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her at the realization. If the Autobot wanted to kill her, he’d had every opportunity to do while she was in stasis.

She was still online. And sicne the Autobot had shown an interest in Shockwave, he probably was too. They could still escape. She laid her servo on the field, only to retract it immediately when it shocked her.

“Those copy-powers of yours won’t work here,” a familiar amused voice informed her. “That’s a modified stasis field. Organic or not, touching it’s gonna sting pretty bad.”

The Autobot stepped in front of her cell, grinning. He had replaced the hand she’d destroyed with a hook.

Blackarachnia glared at him, hands curling into fists. “You Autobot-bastard!” she spat.

The Autobot chuckled. “Oh, I’m not one of them. Name’s Lockdown.I’m what you’d call... a bounty hunter.“ Lockdown took another step forward to allow her a good view of his chest insgnia. Or lack thereof. Where a faction-insignia would normally be was nothing but emoty soace and a black spot. “Autobots pay real good for info,” he continued in a conversational tone, leaning on the wall. “Battle plans, access codes. Your friend should net me some sweet upgrades.”

Blackarachnia kept glowering at him, but mentally she made an ex-vent of relief. So Shockwave was still alive.

Lockdown’s voice pulled her attention back. “Of course you know what I really live for.“ His grin widened. There was something in it that she didn’t like at all. Apart from everything else. “Hunting trophies. Now you didn’t really have anything, being a part-organic freak and all.” He pulled out a flask containign a deep purple liquid. Blackarachnia felt her tanks freeze at the sight of it. “But that neom of yours? Not too shabby either.”

She suddenly felt very ill. Her stingers. He had.. he had...

                                   -----------------------------------------

The sound of an all too familiar engine pulled her back to reality. She saw Megatron fly over the roofs in his vehicle mode. She doubted he would hear her if she called out to him now. She would have to try and catch up to him before he caught up with the ‘muscle car’. Blackarachnia shot a string up to a near-bay roof and pulled herself up, not even hearing Blitzwing calling after her.

Megatron had caught up to the muscle car in the meantime. He landed in frot of it, blockign it’s way and transformed back into robot-mode.

“I belive that is enough damage for one night,” he said, coldly looking down at the car. “Now please, step out of your vehicle human.”

“Just one problem,” A metallic voice responded. The car jerked up. Two legs formed, followed by a torso and a head, smirking. “I am the vehicle.”

Megatron’s optics went wide. “Lockdown?”

“The same,” Lockdown grinned, lifting his right arm. A strange gun rose out of his upper servo. Before Megatron could react, a strange vial-like projectle shot out of the weapon, hitting him square in the chest-plate.

Megatron made a glitched noise. He dropped donw to his knees and collapsed.

“But save the reunion-talk until we get to my ship,” Lockdown said, steping over and pulling Megatron’s limp body over his shoulders.

Blackarachnia saw what was happening when she touched down on the street. She raced towards Lockdown and Megatron. Lockdown turned around to her. A hidden compartment in his chest-plate opened, dropping two of his smoke balls. Him and Megatron were onscured from view in seconds.

Blackarachnia ran into the smoke desperately trying and failing to make out two shapes in it. When the smoke dispersed, she was alone on the street.

She shook, gripping her helm with her hands. “Megatron... no...”

                                          -----------------------------------

“My scans show no signs of Megatron or the muscle car,” Starscream said.

His ervos were crossed and he was tapping his pede. Both signs that he was anxious, Blackarachnia knew. Understandable. She felt like her armor-plating would crack from all the tension in her body. And her and Megatron weren’t nearly as close as Starscream and Megatron were.

When the rest of the team had arrived at her location, she had told them in quick, short sentences what had happened.

“How does a human just disappear with Megatron and mask his energy signature?” Blitzwing asked no one in particular.

Lugnut turned to look at Blackarachnia, his single optic unreadable. “Would you happen to have an answer to that, Blackarachnia? You saw him last.”

Blakcarachnia flinched. “How should I know?” she snapped, fingers gripping her arms even tighter. “I’m a medi-bot, not a field commander!”

The others stared at her in surprise.

“Is there something you are not telling us about this human?” Blitzwing asked.

Unwanted images flashed before her optics: The cell, the vial with her venom that he’d stolen, Shockwave...

“It’s not a human,” Blackarachnia said slowly. “And it’s not a car. It’s an Autobot, sorta. His name’s Lockdown. He captured me while I was on an undercover extraction-mission lots of stellar cycles ago. He’s... the one responsible for this.” She gestured to her bent stingers. “He’s a bounty hunter. Delivers ‘Cons like us to the Autbots in exchange for upgrades. And takes our personal modifications as trophies.”

                                           -------------------------------------

While Blackarachnia told her story, many miles away Lockdown stepped onto the main room of his ship. He was content. The hunt and extraction had gone off without a hitch.

He walked over to the berth he’d laid Megatron on. The Deception was a great deal bigger and stronger than his usual bounties. But the carbonfiber cables holding his arms and legs to the berth could have held a raging warframe for stellar cycles.

Megatron was online, but didn’t struggle like most who had found themselves in his position. His optics just wandered around the room, as if looking for something. Or someone. When he noticed Lockdown had entered, those optics turned to look at him.

“Why?” Megatron asked. “You helped us back in the Great War. What happened?”

Lockdown shrugged, crossing his servos. “Times are changing Megatron. The ‘Bots started to crack down harder on any ‘sympathizers’ to you ‘Cons. I’m just doing what I have to to stay online. And to get upgrades to help keep me stay online.,” He hesitated for a second. “For what it’s worth, it’s nothing personal. I always liked you, Megatron. You were one of the few mechs who put their credit chits were their intake was.”

Megatron snorted. “I’m flattered. I suppose that admiration is the reason my swords are gone?”

Lockdown chuckled. “Ah, you noticed huh?”

He walked over to one of the shelves on the wall. Dozens of modifications and trophies were arranged on the boards, each from a different bounty. Lockdown didn’t need to search long. He knew his trophies well. Giving an almost rueful smirk, he pulled out two long-swords.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I’ll send them back later. Y’know, leave your ‘Cons something to mourn ya’ with.”

“They will find you before you even leave this planet,” Megatron said, optics hard.

Lockdown put the swords away. “Good. I could use some spare parts.“

                                           ----------------------------------

Blitzwing, Starscream, Lugnut and Blackarachnia touched donw on the ground again, transforming back into their robot-modes.

“We have been searching for mega cycles,” Blitzwing said disheartened. “Where in the world could they be?”

Blackarachnia snarled, fists shaking. “How did I not see it? Lockdown was chasing us the whole time! Hiding in plain sight. And we bought it, bulk, cable and-”

“Wait!” Starscream interrupted. His optics had lit up. “Hiding in plain sight... That’s the answer!” He put a hand to his helm to activate his comlink. “Professor Black, could you overlay the sattelite image of Old Detroit my scan produced with an older one?”

“Of course,” Professor Black answered. “Just let me call up the map from three days ago... huh, that’s strange. There’s a warehouse on your scan that wasn’t there before. Is that of any help?”

“It most certainly is!” Starscream said. “Thank you, professor.”

“A holographic cloak...” Blackarachnia said quietly, optics wide.

Starscream nodded, expression having turned grim. “Masking the bounty hunter’s ship, no doubt. Clever.”

Blitzwing’s faceplate switched to Hothead. “Not clever enough!” Hothead grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s go kick his tailfins in!”

Him, Starscream and Lugnut transformed into their vehicle modes. Blackarachnia stayed where she was.

“I...” she looked down on the ground, arms wrapped around herself again. “I can’t go back there.”

“Are your circuits crossed?” Lugnut shouted. “That scum has our leader!”

Blackarachnia didn’t answer. She couldn’t look at any of them.

“No time to argue,” she heard Starscream say. Her spark sank at the barely hidden disappointment in his voice.

Their engines activated and when she finally found the courage to look back up, they were already disappearing into the night sky.

                                    ------------------------------------------

“You have the leader of the Decepticon rebellion?” Sentinel Prime’s faceplate was full of disbelief.

“Sure do,” Lockdown responded, leaning back in his chair to look up at the monitor. “And I hope your payment’s gonna be proportionate to the occasion.”

Sentinel Prime frowned. “You will get your upgrades, bounty hunter. So long as I get results. Though I am surprised you would sell Megatron out in this manner, considering your history with the Decepticon-faction.”

Lockdown’s grin dropped and he leaned forward. “My reasoning’s none of your concern. Just send me the coordinates I can deliver him to and have my reward ready.”

He ended the call before Sentinel could say anything else.

                                 ---------------------------------------------------

Starscream, Blitzwing and Lugnut landed a few feet away from the false warehouse’s ccordinates, changing back into robot-mode as they did so.

Starscream looked up at the ‘building’, frowning. “Lockdown is smart. We have to be smarter. Be careful when apporaching.”

“To the pit with that,” Lugnut snarled. “Let us seize the traitor!”

Before Blitzwing or Starscream could stop him, he charged at the warehouse with a fierce battle-cry, explosives-servo raised.

                                -------------------------------------------------------

The alarms inside the ship blared. Lockdown observed the camrea footage on his monitor, showing the three Decepticons outside.

“For a race built for fightin’ you’re predictable as ever,” he told them. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel, then headed outside, readjusting his hook.

                                -----------------------------------------------------------

Outside, laser-guns rose out from the false building’s roof, firing at the approaching Decepticons.

Starscream and Blitzwing barely dodged the first few shots. Blitzwing hissed in pain when one of the laser-projectiles hit his left wing.

Starscream propelled himself into the air, skillfully dodging the barrage. Quickly he touched down behind on of the canons, then cut it loose with his claws and shot down the remaining canons.

Lugnut had barely noticed the bombardment. He stubbornly charged for the wall, trampling one of the downed guns without even realizing. He crashed through the wall and into a dark room.

A pair of dark-blue biolights flared up at the other side of the room.

“Come to face your punishment, traitor?” Lugnut growled, readying his explosive.

Lockdown transformed into robot-mode. “Bring it on, Decepticon,” he said, raising his arms.

Lugnut roared and ran forward bringing his arm down on Lockdown. Lockdown jumped aside. Lugnut’s arm hit the wall behind him. The explosive set off, thrpwing him backwards. Lugnut goraned, trying to push himself back up, only to be surrounded by a thick, black fog.

“You think this can hurt me?” Lugnut shouted into the nothingness.

Lockdown appeared at the edge of his vision, dark-blue optics piercing through the fog. “Don’t have to hurt you.”

The fog spread and solidifed, trapping Lugnut in place. Lugnut roared in anger, trying to tear himself free. “Coward! Fight like a Decepticon!”

But Lockdown had already exited the room.

                                  --------------------------------------------------

Blitzwing patrolled the perimeter, sensors at their all-time high. He flinched, whe he heard Lockdown’s engine. Looking around, he saw the bounty hunter’s vehicle mood sped past a nerbay corner.

“I have optics on the bounty hunter,” he called over comlink, transforming into his jet-mode.

He tailed Lockdown through several streets. Hothead took control, changing their vehicle mode from jet to tank.

“You can’t run from me forever, Autobot-scum!” he shouted, turning his canon on Lockdown. A stream of fire shot out of the barrel. Lockdown swerved sideways, narrowly avoiding it.

As if in response, Lockdown transformed his the right door of his vehicle back into an arm, hand clutching a familiar sword.

The tank halted for a moment. “That is Megatron‘s sword!”

Lockdown cut through a nearby pipe on a building. Oil spilled out onto the street. Hothead’s treads slipped, causing him to spin around. He crashed into a nearby wire fence. The impact made him transform into robot-mode, throwing him onto his back, hard. Hothead groaned in pain.

Lockdown appeared in his vision, sword still in hand. “M-hm. Megatron’s sword. And soon I’ll have your flame-thrower.”

He raised the sword over his helm, preparing to cut Hothead’s canon off. He heard a noise behind him. Lockdown whipped around, just in time to see a metal elbo coming towards him.

Starscream rammed into te bounty hunter, throwing him away from Hot head. He landed right between the two, putting his body in front of Hothead. His optics were deadset on Lockdown.

Lockdown stumbled back to his pedes, laughing and rubbing the soot from his face-plate. “Almost forgot about you. Figures Megatron’s number two’d be just as scrappy as him. Gotta say, I’m impressed, Starscream. Been eons since anybody got the drop on me.”

Starscream smirked. “Next time will be much sooner.”

He raised his arm and shot a null-ray at Lockdown. Lockdown blocked it with the sword in his hand, then transformed his left arm into a chainsaw and lunged at Starscream. Starscream dodged his first two strikes, then got both of Lockdown’s wrists. He transformed his intake into the sonic canon and shot Lockdown right in the chest, propelling him onto a scrap-heap.

Lockdown pushed himself up, glaring at Starscream, who was holding Megatron’s stolen sword in his hand. Starscream walked over to him, then grabbed his chainsaw servo and yanked him up, bringing them face-plate to face-plate.

“Where is Megatron?” he asked, voice dangerously low and optics narrowing.

Lockdown grinned at him. “You’ll see him very soon.”

Starscream frowned, then flinched. He looked down. Lockdown was holding a strange gun to his chest-plate. A small vial, obviously just fired from the same gun, was sticking out of it, now almost empty. Starscream felt numbness spread to his limbs. He dropped Lockdown and passed out.

“You still got it Starscream. Always liked your style,” Lockdown told him, rubbing his wrist. “You and I could probably teach each other a few tricks.” His smirk widened and he reached for the sword. “If I wasn’t about to, you know. Hand you over to the Autobots.”

“Step away from the Decepticon.”

Lockdown turned around. Blackarachnia was standing in the entrance to the alleyway. Her optics were steely.

“Wait, I know you,” Lockdown said, tapping the gun in his servo. “My ahdny little venom, right? I’m not good with names and faces, but I never forget a trophy. How’re the old stingers? Still dented?”

Blackarachnia glared at him, gritting her denta.

Lockdown chuckled. “Maybe I should break’em off for good this time.Seems to me there not much use to you know anyways.”

“You’ll never take another trophy from a Decepticon ever again,” Blackarachnia said coldly, sliding into a fighting position.

“No?” Lockdown asked. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

Blackarachnia held his gaze. “Me.”

Lockdown snorted. “You couldn’t stop an oil leak! But don’t worry. I got all I wanted from you a long time ago.”

Blackarachnia screamed and threw herself at Lockdown. Lockdown merely raised the strange gun and shot. The vial hit her straight in the chest-plate, Blackarachnia made a glitched sound, then collapsed.

Lockdown huffed in amusement. “Now that was just sad.” He truned around to leave, but then suddenly felt something wrap itself around his pede. He looked down just in time to see a white thread  before he was aprubtly thrown into the air and against a wall. He jumped up, only to see Blakcarachnia standing across frm him, seemingly unfazed.

“What the-?” He exclaimed. “I shut you down!”

He hastily pulled up the gun and fired another shot. Blackarachnia raised a servo and easily caught the vial in her hand, crushing it. Before Lockdown had time to react, she opened her intake and transformed it into a smaller version of Starscream’s sonic-gun, taking a straight shot at Lockdown and hitting him square in the chest-plate.

He flew backwards, hitting a nearby streetlamp with a yelp and crushed down on the ground.

“Humans call it playing possum,” Blackarachnia said, walking over to him. Don’t ask me what a possum is.”

She opened her intake again, shooting a clump of thread and pinning his body to the ground.

“I guess it never occurred to you that the venom wouldn’t work on the one ‘Con who produced it,” she told him bitterly.

When she was sure he couldn’t get up again, she turned and ran over to the ‘warehouse’. Their was only one door and it was several times smaller than her. She wouldn’t fit, even in her spider-form.

“Think,” she mumbled to herself, feeling the walls around the door. “It’s a ship. There’s an air lock, not a door.”

Here hand brushed over a strange bump where only smooth wall should be. She gripped into it and pulled. The area around the door tore off, revealing an air lock just about two helms taller and wider than her. The ‘bump’ turned out to be a panel for access. Blacjarachnia pressed her palm against it and activated her download.

The acces protocols flooded into her processor and back into the panel. A siren sounded from insde and the air lock opened to a dark hallways. Blackarachnia looked into the nothingness in front of her. She vented deeply, then stepped inside.

For a while there was only her and the silence of the horribly familiar ship. Memories came back to her and every time they did, she supressed them just as quickly.

She heard Lockdown brag about how good Autbots payed for info. She heard her own voice, desperately calling Shockwave’s name. The worst was the memory of Shockwave’s own pleading voice, asking her to-

There was another door in front of her. Blackarachnia tore herself out of her thoughts and picked up her pace. The door opened to admit her into a larger room, illuminated only by a few ceiling lights. They shone down onto a wide berth. And tied to it was-

“Megatron!” Blackarachnia exclaimed.

Megatron raised his helm, weakly, as if he had trouble moving. “Blackarachnia?”

She ran over to his side and pressed a button on a panel next to the berth. The cables holding Megatron down reatreated: Megatron pushed himself up into a sitting position, grimacing slightly. Blackarachnia felt a mixture of shame and anger. Lockdown had used another venom dart to make sure Megatron couldn’t escape while he fought off the rest of them.

She pulled her emergency-scanner out of her storage compartment. “Hold still,” she told Megatron, letting the scanner wander over his upper body. “And don’t try to talk. I need to make some adjusments.”

Warning sirnes started blaring through the room. The ground underneath them started to shake.

Blackarachnia cursed. “Launch sequence starting. We gotta move!”

She pulled Megatron off the berth and onto his pedes. He was leaning onto her heavily, but still doing his best to walk. They made their way over to the door. Just as she was about to reach out to the panel, the door slid open, revealing Lockdown.

He grabbed her around the neck, puleld her out of Megatron’s grip and threw her across the room before she could react. Blackarachnia crashed into one of the shelves, trophies flaiing down aroudn her.

“Playing possum, huh?” she heard Lockdown snicker through her daze. “Gotta remember that one.”

                                              --------------------------------

Outside, Blitzwing was treated to a rude awakening when the ground started to shake under him.

He gave a pained groan, pushing hismelf up and putting a hand to his still aching helm.

“Why do I have the feeling I will not like what I am about to see?” he mumbled to himself, looking up. The warehouse in front of him folded in on itself, revealing a I-G 200 class starship. The ship lifted off the ground and into the sky.

Blitzwing ex-vented. “I knew it.”

                                           ---------------------------------------

Blackarachnia jumped to her pedes. Using the last of her download, she brought out the sonic gun in her intake and fired at Lockdown. Lockdown dodged and pulled out Megatron’s sword, preparing to swipe at her. Blakcarachnia flinched and stumbled backwards, falling onto her back.

Lockdown placed his pede on her mid-section and grinned down at her, sword raised. “Y’know, I’m really starting to warm up to those copy-powers and strings of yours. Pitiy your a half-organic freak. Maybe those mods would’ve even been worth clearing some space on the trophy case.“

Blackarachnia glared up at him. “You like trohpies?” She bent her helm backwards an spat a long thread onto the nearby shelf. “Have your fill!”

Before Lockdown could react, she grabbed onto the threat. I collided with Lockdown, pushing him off of her and burying him underneath it. He let go of the sword in the process. Blackarachnia caught it ba the handle when it fell, getting back up and walking over to Lockdown.

“Time was I would have used my venom to end this fight painlessly,” she said icily, watching him writhe in pain. “Too bad I can’t dose it properly anymore, huh?”

She turned to get Megatron, when she heard a gltiched noise coming from Lockdown. When she looked at him he was raising his hook-servo. The strange gun, the one he’d used her venom with, rose out of his arm.

“Cyber venom,” he rasped, looking at her with pleading optics. “Use it. Please... please!”

She stared at him. His words were familar. Terribly familiar.

                                      ---------------------------------------------

As soon as the bounty hunter was gone, she started to search her cell. It didn’t take a long to find a spot next to the door close enough to the control panel for a partial download. A few nanokliks later and she was sneaking down the ships hallway.

Voices in the distance led her to a bigger room. Light spilled out from underneath the door.

“You must have some primo-info in that processor, spy-con,” she heard Lockdown say.  “Cause you’re gonna get interrogated by Ultra Magnus himself. Now don’t go anywhere. I have to set up the call.”

She jumped up to cling to the ceiling just in time before the door slid open. Lockdown walked out, fiddling with a device on his wrist.She waited until he disappeared down the hallway, then jumped down and quickly entered the room.

Shockwave was tied to an up-right standing berth. He looked tired and in pain. The proto-leg she’d assembled for his destroyed one looked wrong on him. He perked up when he heard her enter.

“Blackarachnia?”

She motioned for him be quiet, and threw a quickly look back at the door. Lockdown wasn’t coming. She hurried over to Shockwave and started to pull on the cables tying him down.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What’s it look like?” she hissed. “I’m getting you out of here!”

Shockwave shook his helm. “There is no time! He will be back any nanoklik.”

“Well, I’m not leaving here without you!” she snapped up at him. Her servos started to shake. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Shockwave shook his helm again. “Your stingers. Use a heavy dosage. Destroy my memory core.”

“What?” Blackarachnia stared at him, horrified. “Shockwave, no-”

“Blackarachnia, the access codes I’ve loaded into my processor are crucial for the Decepticon’s continued survival!“ Shockwave’s voice was pleading. “We can’t allow Ultra Magnus to get them back!”

Blackarachnia hesitated. It would tae her more time than she had to get through these cables. But her stingers were still hurting and she had no doubt Lockdown had damaged them when he had extracted venom from her. Was she evne able to produce venom anymore? And if so, how could she use it to hurt a fellow Decepticon?

“Blackarachnia,” Shockwave said, looking at her with pleading optics. “Please!”

In that moment, they both heard steps outside the door. Blackarachnia gulped, then nodded. She laid her servos on Shckwave’s shoulderplate and lowered her stingers, flinching. It felt like she was trying to move a damaged servo.

She knew something was wrong as soon as she started to insert the venom into Shockwave’s body. Instead of a steady flow, the venom rushed through her stingers all at once. When it sepped into Shockwave’s system he jerked and then screamed in pain.

“Shockwave!”

Blackarachnia pulled her stingers back immediately, but it was too late. Shockwave had stipped screaming. He was hanging limply from the berth, optics havin offlined themselves. The blue orb on his upper faceplate had gone dark.

Blackarachnia started shaking.

“Shockwave...?” she asked, voice sounding strangely small in her audials.

Instinctively, she scanned his body. She couldn’t pick up an energy signature.

“No...,” she whispered. She stepped back from the berth, shaking.

“What the-?!”

She whipped around. Lockdown was standing in the door. She didn’t give him the chance to react. Blackarachnia dove right under his grabbing servos, running out into the hallway and out of the ship.

Later she wouldn’t remember how she managed to find her own ship.Or how she made it home to New Kaon. All she would remember was Shockwave’s lifeless body.

                                           ------------------------------------

In the present, Blackarachnia glowered down at Lockdown. She curled her hands into fist so tightly they shook.

“You want me,” she said, slowly apporaching Lockdown. “To use that venom to make your pain go away?”

Lockdown grabbed one of his ‘trophies’ , a whip, from the ground and swung it at her. Blackarachnia caught the lash in mids.air, then stomped on the shelves lying on top of him, hard.

Lockdown screamed, letting go of the whip.

Blackarachnia leaned down to him. “I used that venom for medical purposes,” she told him, voice shaking with rage. “Thanks to you it’s nothing more than a weapon now.”

She grabber the gun still mounted on his servo and ripped it off. Lockdown roared in agony, thrashing around but unable to free himself. Blackarachnia slid open a panel on her own wrist and attached the gun to it. She turned around and shot a vial at the nearby control panel.

“No!” she heard Lockdown shout behind her.

The panel threw sparks. The ship lurched. Lockdown, unable to grab onto anything, was thrown against a wall.

“That was for Shockwave,” Blackarachnia hissed.

She ran over to Megatron. He was barely online, but he moved when she pulle dhim to his pedes. Together they ran to the exit. Blackarachnia slammed her fist into the panel. The door opened, allowing Blackarachnia to see just how far above the ground her an Megatron were.

“No turning back now,” she mumbled.

She jumped down, pulling Megatron with her. When they came to building-level, she fired several threats at a nearby roof, wrapping them around herself and Megatron.

“Hold on, Megatron,” she shouted over the wind. “That’s gonna hurt a little!”

The strings holding them pulled taught a few meters over the concrete, aprubtly halting their fall. Then it snapped, resulting in them both painfully landing on the ground with a smack.

Due to the venom still preventing Megatron from more comlicated movement, and the rest of the Decepticons too far awaythey had to walk back to the mines. Slowly and painfully.

                                             ----------------------------------

Blackarachnia finished her medical scan and stuffed the scanner back into her compartment.

“How are you healing?” she asked Megatron.

When they had finally arrived in the mines in the morning, she had ushered him into the medbay right away. The others hadn’t come back yet. Professor Black had been worried when he’d seen them pass by, but Blackarachnia had managed to put his questions off for later, reasoning that she would have to see if Megatron had sustained any injuries from his time with Lockdonw or her escue attempt.

He hadn’t, but she had scanned him anyway, just to be sure.

“The venom is almost out of my systems,” Megatron replied, briefly letting a servo hover over the spot in which Lockdown tranquilized him. “But I am grateful you took the time to look over me.”

Blackarchnia shook her helm. “Not what I meant.”

Megatron ex-vented. “Let us just say I have a better understanding what you went through stellar cycles ago. And why you do not wish to talk about it.”

Blackarachnia flinched.

“Actually,” she said, crossing her servos and looking down on the floor. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just... not easy for me. To remember. But maybe I should.” A little quieter she added: “He deserved better than this.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. Megatron was smiling at her softly.

“Then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to talk about at least parts of it sometimes? With a trusted friend?”

Blackarachnia hesitated. Then she ex-vented and let her servos drop to her sides. “What do you want to know?”

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Lady of the Loch, 4/?

twelve x rose

selkie au

~1k

flashback chapter

..Then..

Not long after his eighth birthday he learns who he truly is.

He’s finishing his noon meal, licking honey off his fingertips so he can finish his milk without getting the cup sticky, when he hears a cry from outside. There is a scramble to see which of the siblings can get to the door first; someone’s milk tips over and a splash of white spreads across the table. The boy doesn’t hurry; he’ll only be pushed out of the way, and he’s fairly confident, in the way of young boys everywhere, that this sort of trouble couldn’t possibly have anything to do with him. Things happening in this household so rarely do, anymore.

But this time it does.

It’s their nearest neighbor carrying his only child, a girl. He’s making a noise like a wounded animal. She’s limp in his arms, a pale ragdoll, making no noise at all.

“She was picking apples,” says their neighbor, his eyes wild and unfocused. “Fell out of the tree. Just...fell! She never falls! Scratched her arm up bad, so much blood…” His voice shatters, a glass falling to the floor. “She won’t wake up. Won’t do anything.” He looks at the pack of children, from one to the other until he finds the boy. “You! I hear tell you can do…” He looks away, uneasy, unsure what to say. Finally he says, “Things. I hear you can do things.” He looks back and the boy nods; the panicky man nearly crumples to the ground in his relief.

The boy rattles off some instructions to a few of his sisters--some things he needs to clean the scratches, some bandages and herbs he needs to stop the bleeding--and then stands in mute disbelief when they run off to obey without arguing. When did they start taking him seriously? He brushes it aside; helping the girl is the important thing now.

She’s only a year or so younger than he is, but she looks so small cradled in her father’s arms, her own arms and legs dangling uselessly. “Lay her down here,” says the boy, pointing to a patch of grass under a tree not far from where they’re standing. He’s spent many an hour on his back in that same spot, dappled sunlight on his face, so he knows the ground is soft. The man obeys without question, and again the boy takes a moment to wonder. But everyone is looking at him, so he tucks his thoughts away to wonder at another time.

Feather light, he rests his palms on the girl’s small cheeks. He closes his eyes and looks inside. He doesn’t talk about it, but it’s one of those things he’s always known how to do, like seeing the faeries, and knowing their words. This different way of seeing, it’s just a thing he can do, like his da can play the fiddle and one of his sisters can paint beautiful pictures. And he doesn’t talk about it, because it’s like the faeries. They won’t understand. They won’t even try.

But this girl, he can’t fix her with herbs or a splint. Sometimes he can fix the animals that way. He even helped one of the brothers when he broke his arm jumping out of the hayloft last summer. But not this time. There’s something wrong inside the girl’s head, he can tell that just by looking the normal way. So he looks inside.

And there it is.

He opens his eyes and looks at her father. “She’s bleeding inside her head. I can fix it, I think, but it will look...strange. And she may cry out. After, she’ll sleep for...I don’t know how long, a bit of time, I’d guess, and then she’ll wake up and be very hungry and be herself again.” He bites his lower lip, then adds, “I think.”

Tears leak from the man’s eyes. “Please. She’s all we have. Save my girl.”

So he closes his eyes again, and this time speaks the words that will knit her back together. Not where anyone else can see, but on the inside. He feels the heat build up in his fingers, the healing heat, and then he pushes it into the girl, soft as a puff of air blowing dandelion clocks across the heather.

The girl shrieks in pain, one foot kicking out as if in protest. The rest of her remains still, however, and soon the work is done. The boy falls back onto the grass, for the moment too worn to speak.

His heartbeat roars in his ears, but everything else around him is still and silent. One breath, two, three. Then the girl’s father falls to his knees beside her, his tears falling like rain onto her faded blue dress..

“They talk of you in town,” he says, “all murmurs and whispers. They say you can find things, that sometimes you can fix things. But you...you’re not just a fixer or a finder. You’re a doctor.”

His voice is raw gratitude and awe, and when the boy hears it something inside him shifts. It’s almost like he’s spent his whole life walking on his hands and suddenly he’s learned to stand on his feet instead.

Doctor. No one has ever called him Doctor before, but he knows it belongs to him. It is his true name. The faeries tell him how names have power, and he always agrees, but he’s never truly understood until now.

I am the Doctor.

He doesn’t speak the words aloud, but even speaking them inside his head he can feel the power welling up inside him.

He is still sprawled on his back in the grass, weak from healing the girl’s head, but he can already feel his strength returning. Good, he thinks. Her arm is still bleeding. That needs regular cleaning and binding. He tries to sit up but falls back again. It can wait another minute or two...

I am the Doctor.

He looks at the bits of blue sky through the green leaves above his head and the corners of his lips turn up in a small smile.

. + . + . + . + .

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[causeimalady-thatswhy]

Is this room getting smaller?  It feels like its getting smaller.  I hear the sound of footsteps in the apartment above.  Our window is open to try to circulate the suffocating air and I hear cars driving past, going well over the speed limit.  Our TV is on, the portable dishwasher is going, and I hear two unfamiliar voices enter the building.  Which is like sitting on your bed in the house you live in and hearing someone walk down the hallway right past the door to your bedroom, only you have no idea who the fuck they are.  We hear everything here.  All of the noise is polarizing.  And then I hear my kids.  I get lost in the noises of our musty cave.  My children find me and bring me out.  They ask for a snack.  I smile, say no.  They continue playing.  They don’t know, because this is all they know.  I continue sitting, lost in thought, dreaming of anywhere to take them that isn’t here.  

We almost rented a house. A few times.  But things came up, we decided not to, we decided to wait. Four years later we’re still where we were.  Everything is more expensive, so we fucked up. We’re trapped.  In this small apartment.  With the small rooms, that feel smaller with four people living in them. Four people.  900 square feet.  That’s not even that bad.  I hear stories of people close by and far away that have it way worse.  My mind wanders to that place, and then the guilt sets in.  I should be so lucky to live where I do.  There are people in the world who are suffering.  I don’t deserve pity.  But as much as I try to pull myself out, I am suffering.

We almost bought a house. That just happened.  We got so close to freedom.  We were denied our loan.  The details make sense now, but we were told it was a go.  We were pre-approved, our offer accepted, all inspections passed, title work done, closing costs covered.  Nope, just kidding.  A week before closing.  The closing of our hardest chapter, by far.  A week before we could get the keys to a real home, with a real yard, and a real fucking laundry room.  With neighbors far enough that if they lit a bong the smoke wouldn’t damage our mattresses and couch cushions and my innocent babies wouldn’t wake up with black boogers.  Neighbors far enough where I don’t have to explain to my young children what they’re smelling in the hallway as were walking down to do laundry.  Neighbors far enough where when there are domestic disputes until 6 am, loud enough where it sounds like they’re going to spill through our cave door, our kids wont wake up confused.  Neighbors where if the drunk idiots next to us decided to throw a fucking party, the bass from their stereos woudn’t scare my kids into thinking there are loud monsters in their room.  Privacy.  Peace. Fresh fucking air.

I live in a safe place. Safety, to me though, is relative to your mind and your thoughts.  My sister basically lived in the ghetto and mentally, was totally fucking fine.  She wasn’t scared.  My apartment has “security”.  The security guards couldn’t do anything about the drug problem but hey at least I have a number to call.  I live in a safe city.  Full of tourists in the summer, rich or poor people in the winter, but pretty much safe. This city, like most others, is completely unaffordable for people trying to start their lives.  Low paying jobs galore, expensive homes galore. Middle class?  Gone.  There are people in the world who are dieing.  I am selfish to think I deserve more than them, more than those mothers who, like me, so deeply crave a better life for their children.  But their better life is across the country, continent, ocean, world.  Mine can be almost anywhere in my county.  I am blessed and lucky to be born in America.  But am I really safe? Never.

My husband is a veteran. He went to war instead of college. When it came time for reenlistment, I was pregnant and he decided to take me home and try college again.  He does everything for me.  I say he doesn’t show me affection but everything he does, he does for me.  As I’m writing this he is talking to me more than usual, and touching me more than usual, because he knows.  I want out of here. I want my kids out of here. And hes the only one who can do that for us.  Really I should be fine, the pressure is on him.  But my mind betrays me.  He works hard. He deserves a house more than me, but my kids deserve a house the most.

Theres a park down the street with a playscape and a cute beach on the bay.  My kids basically grew up there.  No backyard, remember?  Once when we were at this beach, my kids were playing on the playscape.  Two men were sitting on a bench looking out at the water. They both got up and walked towards the parking lot, towards us.  One man was holding his phone, and as he got close I saw that his camera was on.  He smiles at me, looks up at my son, takes a fucking picture of him, and says “cute kid”.  Safe my fucking ass.  No where is safe.  I could kill myself for not ripping the fucking phone out of his hand, and shoving it up his weird old fucking ass.  I called the police, because I am who I am.  And the person on the phone seemed concerned, but my husband said everything was probably fine.  Except I read about pedophilia and weird fucking people on the internet all the time. In my mind, one of those people might now have a picture of my son. Because we don’t have a backyard.

Theres a splash pad downtown where I live.  It was shut off and my kids were too little but I try to get them outside when its sunny. I try to take them places and give us all some fresh air, a break from our cave.  So I got the double-jogging-stroller and we walked.  I have a stroller for every occasion, my parents think that’s weird.  But when you live in an apartment its necessary.  I always have to pack, and plan, and prepare when I want to go outside. We were walking back to the car from this splash pad, looking out at the water.  A man starts walking toward me.  He has a phone in his hand but I didn’t notice until he took a picture of us.  He told me “You belong in Hollywood”.  I smile and quickly walk toward my car.  He gets into a green truck with branding on the side.  At least this time the kids were bundled in hats and blankets.  They probably weren’t visible in the picture.  Safe.

Once I was at my friends house. She owns her house all by herself.  She is not afraid, ever.  At least I don’t think.  We got out of the car and started walking to her front door when a man on a bicycle rode by really slowly, and stared into our eyes the entire time without saying hi or anything.  When he got to far and had to break the stare, he turned his head around the other way to keep staring as he kept riding his bike.  Eventually he stopped looking.  My friend told me, “Ive never seen anything like that here before”.  I know….its me.  But I digress.

I packed a lot of stuff already.  Each box is labeled with it’s contents and what room of the house the stuff was going to go.  I printed out the dimensions of the house so I could have them with me if I decided to go into home depot and plan.  I planned how I would arrange every room.  I thought about where I would put a Christmas tree, how the tree in the front yard would be perfect for a tire swing. I thought about how cute it would be to put pumpkins outside and what it would be like to take my kids trick or treating without driving them somewhere else.  I thought it would be fun to build a teepee in the backyard for the kids to play in, and what it would be like to actually be able to have bonfires.  Once I dreamt that we pulled up the carpet to reveal hardwood floors, just like in Fixer Upper.  Now that we’re staying I might as well throw away the stuff in the boxes.  I packed almost half of our apartment and we still don’t have any space.

My family could have stayed with us.  There were two rooms in the basement.  One for a guest room and the other for a playroom.  Perfect.  We live 4 hours from our families.  My husband and I both work.  He works a lot more, so im home a lot more.  He has always been good at making friends.  I guess its probably me...I think im nice, friendworthy?  Maybe im too nice.  Either way, I was going to try to convince my mom to live with us in the summer.  Then I would be safe, and have company.

I grew up in a suburban middle-class subdivision.  I played outside with kids in my neighborhood all the time.  I was born in 91, so I am one of the last generations that remembers a time before the internet.  We didn’t even get a VCR until DVD players were a thing.  I loved my childhood.  I had fun. I had a happy and healthy childhood with parents who loved me and a safe, happy home.  I was spoiled for that.  I know now, that is rare.  And that is to be treasured.  And I must do that for my children, as soon as I possibly can.  They are loved, and we laugh, but only inside.

I have to mourn the loss of this home, the memories never to be made.  Painting my kids rooms.  Watching them play in the leaves. Watching them ride their bikes.  Reading books by the fireplace. Picnicking in the backyard.  My kids playing with our neighbors, who are the same age.  Planting a garden.  Going on adventures without going somewhere unfamiliar.  Opening the back door and letting them run.  Just run and run.  I want to let them out and let them run until their little legs get tired.  And then bring them inside for a sandwich.  I feel like Sandra Bullock in Birdbox.  I don’t want to have to tell them to slow down, that they will die because cars are driving by too fast, or people are doing drugs on their balconies, or to tell them they cant play on the sidewalk because the creepy guy above us will linger out there too long.  I have to mourn the loss of my kid’s almost first childhood home. And pray, pray, pray it will come sooner than later.  But hey, at least we have somewhere to live, and to everyone else it’s probably safe.

[brothers-all]

Aru'e Tio'r (Enemy Within)

Hay mates! Here's a new one for ya! Kinda shorter than others, but I think it makes up in content =P

Okay mates, here we go! I really liked writing this one, so I hope you enjoy it! Read, review and enjoy~

[Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5] [Ch.6] [Ch.7] [Ch.8] [FanFic] [AO3] [Master-list] Aliit ori'shy tal'din (Family is more than blood). [FanFic] [Ao3] Memory (Tome'tayl) [FanFic] [AO3] or [Tumblr]

Chapter 9

Rex walked down the hall towards the room Krell was supposedly staying. He hadn't gone to check on the tech boys, but he heard their chatter from the control room. The twisting feeling in his gut never went away, but as he got closer, it started feeling sick.

"I got bad feeling about this," he said to himself, the door in sight.

Just before he actually did reach the door, it opened and Pong himself stepped out, eyes staring down at the soldier.

"Sir!" Rex instantly gave a salute, clicking his heels together.

"Captain," Krell had his arms behind his back as he spoke. "Have you been able to restore communications?" the question made the blonde take a double take. That wasn't what he expected to be asked.

"N-No sir," he said soon after, covering up his shock. "…How did you know they were down?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"I tried to contact General Kenobi and congratulate him on successfully destroying the enemy supply ship."

The two stared at each other, one calm and collect, the other feeling chills up his spine and barely suppressing a shiver. His instincts were screaming at him to move, to run and get away because this was wrong. There was a pressure coming from the Jedi, one that threatened to crush the soldier. It was… terrifying.

"Is something the matter?" the words came to his ears weakly, muffled almost as Rex felt sick enough to almost throw up. What was this? From behind the General, he could almost see shadows or tendrils of mist emerging, licking the walls and ground. A voice followed them, but he couldn't understand or really hear anything.

"Perhaps you should have someone have a look at you," the feel of the Besalisk's hands on his shoulder made his body numb and turned his legs to jelly as he collapsed on the ground, heaving up empty. The cold which wrapped around him was unlike anything he's ever felt, and it made him tremble. His breath shuddered and as the shadows seemed to close in on him, an ear piercing scream emerging from it.

Fixer, Patch and Scar rushed to the tower as soon as they were able. Frost sounded panicked as he called them, saying the Captain had collapsed in the hall and that the General had told them to get him into a medical wing.

"What happened?" Fixer asked immediately as he saw Rex trembling, propped up against a wall. His eyes found Pong standing by, looking bored as hell. But there was something in his eyes… Like he seemed mildly surprised. Maybe he expected Kix to be here as well.

"I am unsure," Krell said, looking from the medic to the blonde. "We were speaking one moment and the next he was on the ground."

"We need to move him," Scar said, kneeling next to Rex as he and Patch checked his vitals.

"Can you tell what's wrong?" Fixer was already working on getting the blonde up.

"Best guess? Exhaustion. I doubt he's slept more than three hours since we arrived on Umbara," Patch said as he helped moving the Captain.

"Great, this just keeps getting better and better," Fixer grumbled. First the Umbaran fighters, then Kix and now Rex? What's next?

"Let's go. Hopefully he'll get better soon…"

As the medics carried off their unconscious brother, Krell never took his eyes off them. He frowned when they were out of sight and turned back around, to head to his room.

"It would seem I was correct," he said to himself. "Some clones are sensitive to the Force."

He woke up with a start, his body jerking upwards and his lungs greedily taking in air. So much so, that he started choking and barely kept himself from throwing up empty yet again. His eyes stung and he could only see blurry images, but he could tell he was in the medical wing. The calls from around him showed there were others as well, and soon enough he felt hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down.

"Captain, you need to calm down!" he wasn't sure who it was, but he managed to do as he was told and felt something on his neck. Stimpak.

Moments later, he could breathe normally, his vision cleared and he only caught slightly to clear his throat. However, he felt incredibly cold and could still feel himself shiver, even under the blanket wrapped around him.

"Wha-?" he couldn't speak yet though, wincing at how his throat hurt. Luckily enough, Scar reached for a bottle of water and handed it to him, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You collapsed during your meeting with the General," the medic explained as best he could, concern and worry in his eyes.

"I… I," Rex couldn't really explain what happened or why, just that the feeling was still creeping around in him.

"Patch said it's because of exhaustion and we pretty much agreed," he added, a sigh escaping him. "You need your rest, Rex."

"I know," the Captain said, his shoulders dropping. "It's just… There was something back there… At least, I think it was…" his memory of it was fuzzy, unclear, like a dream, but he knew it wasn't normal.

"Here," Scar handed him a protein bar. They aren't many clones are given, and usually reserved for long battles so they can keep pushing on without feeling too tired. "I know you won't sit and rest like you're supposed, so at least take this."

"Thanks," Rex managed a weak smile as he took the bar. He had work to do.

"Where is he?"

"Hey, c'mon, calm down!"

"He just woke up man!"

"I need to see him!"

The commotion caught Rex's attention as he was getting ready to leave the medical wing. He turned and saw brothers trying to keep an angered Kix away.

"REX!" the medic yelled and everyone seemed to pause as he moved towards the Captain.

"Kix-?" Rex never saw the punch coming, and it knocked his head to the side as the medic barely kept his balance.

"They're dead!" Kix screamed as the blonde held his jaw, turning back to the younger man. Kix was visibly shaking, his breath coming in quick and harsh. "They're all dead because you sent them away!"

"Kix!" Appo called from nearby, moving closer. The others weren't sure what to do.

"Don't you dare!" the medic spun around, his glare stopping the Sergeant in his tracks. "W-Were you even going to tell us?!" he turned back to Rex, voice breaking. "Or were you just going to pretend it was all okay?!"

"Kix…" Rex felt a lump in his throat as a familiar scene flashed before his eyes.

"Bishop is dead because of you Rex! He trusted you and you let him die!"

"Jezdec, calm down! If you don't they're going to take you away!"

"Let them! I'm gonna die either way, right Captain? How do you plan on leading a whole battalion and get everyone out alive, when you couldn't even save two brothers in a small team?!"

"You gave the go ahead! You let them out! They're dead because of you!" Kix moved forward, aiming another punch, only to have the blonde grab his arm.

"You need to calm down and think about what you're doing, Kix," somehow, to everyone's astonishment, Rex remained calm, his eyes unwavering.

"It's not fair…" the medic spoke through gritted teeth as he lowered his head. "It's not fucking fair…" he trembled in the Captain's grip, tears slipping down his face.

"…" Rex wanted to say that life for them isn't fair, that they don't get any fairness. But he couldn't. This was far too similar to what he already experienced and he couldn't stand a repeat.

"I don't want to live anymore…" the whisper froze everyone as the medic collapsed on the ground, released from the blonde's hold. "I just want the pain to end…"

"…Scar, see to him will you?" Rex kept his voice form and cold, for fear of having it crack and losing himself in his emotions. "Make sure he's okay."

"Yes sir," Scar moved quickly, picking up the fallen brother and getting him to his feet.

"The rest of you, back to your places. We still have work to do."

"Understood!"

Rex stepped out of the medical wing and felt the air on his face. He took a deep breath, calming himself as memories continued to torment his mind. It's been a long time since he's last had memories of Jezdec and what happened…. And now of all times.

He turned towards the hanger and started walking there. He had to make sure that what Kix was saying was true. He wouldn't go on blind belief – not again. He just hoped that by the time this was all over, the poor medic wouldn't have to face the same fact as his old squad mate.

"Tup, Dogma, any news?" the Captain asked as the rookies gave quick salutes.

"Well…" Tup looked at his brother, anxious.

"We saw signals that, Umbaran fighters did crash and were destroyed… Many, if not most…" Dogma started, looking away.

"And our fighters?" the blonde managed to keep his voice steady.

"…Crashed…" Tup said when he saw his friend didn't want to. "No idea where or when, but their signals are dead on any channel and frequency we check."

"…I see…" it was hard to swallow, but he managed. "Turn it all off and get some rest. We'll see what happens next soon. Hopefully, we'll get our communications and sensors back up."

"Copy that!" the rookies gave finals salutes as the older man left the hanger.

"…Did you see his face?" Tup asked when Rex was gone.

"Yeah… Solid punch. Wonder who got him," Dogma couldn't think of anyone.

"Yeah but, his eyes… He looked so… lost."

"…"

"Any sign of the 501st boys?" Cody asked as the pilots and fighter units checked for any last enemies.

"No, nothing," Broadside reported in.

"All clear on my end," Killer said.

"Only craps and clankers," Eagle added.

"Has anyone been able to contact the airbase?" Cody asked, worry gripping his heart.

"No, communications are blocked. We can only get ours around here, and they're probably dead on the surface," the way Fiddle said it made the Commander wince. Dead. Yeah, that's what he was afraid of.

"I'm going down there," Ahsoka spoke up, glancing around the debris in the air.

"Commander Tano, you need permission to do so," Cody didn't like it, but in a situation like this, they had to follow protocol.

"Permission granted Commander Tano. Say hello to the men for me," Obi-Wan cut in, the relaxed tone in his voice putting many at ease.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi. I'll report back as soon as I can," Ahsoka couldn't help herself as she smiled, changing directions as she flew.

"May the Force be with you…"

Rex was outside again, and he looked up at the tower. A cold engulfed him again as he tried to recall what happened back there and why exactly. But he couldn't think of anything solid.

"…I need to get back up there," he told himself, biting his lip. Yeah, but how? Getting past Krell would be near impossible, especially if he's going to his room. He needs a plan.

"…Dogma!" he called and turned back towards the hanger, a nervous smirk on his face. "I need a favor from you and your silver tongue!"

"General Krell," Fangs spoke up as the Besalisk watched the layout of the base again. "Dogma is requesting your presence in hanger 9-4," he added quickly.

"What could he possibly need?" Pong frowned, clearly annoyed.

"Didn't say sir, just that it's important."

"W-W-What are you gonna say?!" Tup was in a full panic as Dogma shook by the control panel, looking pale.

"I um… I don't know yet…" he admitted, swallowing hard.

"Y-You don't know?! DOGMA!"

"Hey, I'm trying okay?! It's not easy! Don't put more pressure on me!"

"We're both gonna die…"

"…Probably…"

Rex was causally patrolling not too far from the tower when he saw Krell exit and grinned to himself. Whatever Dogma did to get him out worked, and he had to remember to thank the rookie after he was done.

Not hesitating, the Captain moved towards the tower and quickly passed the halls to get to where he needed to go. It was surprisingly easy to find the room – he just followed the apparent cold and uneasiness he felt before. That, and he memorized the whole place.

He snuck past the tech experts, who were chatting among themselves and down the hall. He froze in the middle actually, because of the familiar feeling from before.

"I have to do this," he told himself and pushed forward, hands clenched and teethed gritted. Whatever lay behind those doors, might explain at least some of what's been going on.

There was some hesitation as he opened the door, but closed his eyes and did it anyway. The room was dark, but there was that box the General collected before, and there was light coming off it. Neon blue, but it made the place more creepy.

He couldn't see what was inside it, but he spotted a datapad on the table, as well as a small computer. He didn't know how much time he had, but he couldn't keep himself from checking all of it. And he went for the computer first.

"What the-!" he took a step back, seeing his own file open and free to read on the computer. And it's been thoroughly read, by the looks of it. Fives was there as well, along with the rest of some of 501st more known soldiers. Those files are supposed to be sealed and off limits – only their own General and a few others had access to them. So how did Krell get it?

He couldn't really check anymore, so he went to the datapad and feared what he might find there. And what he did, chilled his spine.

"This is our newest experimental development. With the help of the Techno Union, we are able to use it as counterintelligence. It is, thus far, untested, and you shall be the first to see it in action. Take care of it, Krell, as it is a valuable strategic item."

He looked at the box and swallowed as he looked back at the datapad. There was more under, about how to properly use whatever this was and what it can do and all that. What bothered Rex most, was the codename. Echo Effect.

He found the code and with shaky hands, set down the datapad. He walked closer to the box and entered the code, and started feeling sick again. The world seemed to spin as he leaned on the edge to keep himself steady. And then-

"W-What is this?" it was low, whispered and shaky as his eyes saw what was inside.

Wires and small machines connected from the box to a person. But it wasn't just any person, it was a clone. The eyes and the face couldn't be mistaken, even if he looked more machine than human. Pale skin and murky eyes, all sorts of contraptions, wires and connectors spread over the man's body. There were glowing lights around the head, and it made Rex all the more sick as he heaved empty on the side.

"What have they done to you?" he whispered, arms shaking. He didn't know who, it was. But then he recalled the code name. Echo Effect.

"Echo…?" a shuddered breath and he couldn't breathe. "No… It – It can't be!" he screamed in his mind, unable to look away from… this.

He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't speak, breathe or do anything as he kneeled there, leaning on the box, staring at the hollowed face of a long supposed dead brother. But why was he here, in Krell's room? Did the bastard even know?

"We are able to use it as counterintelligence." He recalled what the message said and opened his eyes wide. Was it… Did they turn Echo into something that could gather intel from anywhere and, probably, mess with communications? Was it all because of Krell that they couldn't reach anyone? Just what was going on?

Suddenly, there was a familiar sound of lightsabers being activated, as blue and green light filled the small room. Stiffly, Rex turned his head to the side and saw none other than Pong Krell standing there, mostly covered in shadows.

"My dear Captain," he started and the blonde couldn't move, even to reach his blaster. "You have seen too much."

"…Why?" the word was weak and shaky, but Rex tried his best to glare. He knew it was pointless, this bastard could see right through him right now. Could probably see through him all along.

"Someone like you would never understand," the anger and hate in the tone reached the pit of Rex's core and somehow, his body instinctively reached for his blaster. The world seemed to slow down for a few seconds as Krell jumped forward, lightsabers in the air and Rex aimed his pistols. And in a moment, it was all over.

Ahsoka didn't like the coldness she was feeling as she got closer to the airbase. It was wrong. But she managed to ignore it, as she landed and saw some of the boys gathering around the landing area.

"Commander Tano!" they called and she smiled as she jumped out of her fighter. But seeing them, and the feeling the Force around them… Her smile dropped and she couldn't help the look of sadness and pity on her face.

"Hey boys, how're you all doing?" she tried to ask, but their own expressions were grim.

"…A lot's happened…" she saw Appo and her heart skipped a beat. Where were the others who usually stood out? Fives, Hardcase, Jesse… She couldn't see a single medic. But lastly…

"Where's Rex?" her tone carried a pinch of panic as she couldn't even sense him.

"He's-,"

"I have given him a task," Krell walked up, hands behind his back, his usual frown on his face. "Young Padawan Tano, I did not know of your arrival," he gave a small bow of the head.

"I came as soon as the battle topside was over. Master Kenobi gave permission, if you think that might be a problem," Ahsoka said clearly and bluntly, arms folded.

"Not at all. I am glad to have you here," Pong ginned. "Come, I must ask about-,"

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" someone yelled and before anyone knew it, Umbarans were swarming the airbase, some of their fighters fly overhead and even two of those spider tanks making their way closer.

"Everyone, get ready to fight!" Ahsoka called and activated her sabers, defense position ready. So much for getting a break.

Cut! Hahaha! A cliffhanger! ...I'm so sorry xD I couldn't resist! And this one is short, well, because I wanted to keep some suspense. But yeah, a lot of stuff is revealed here, and I'll continue to work my way through this... mess I've created. We'll see how well that goes, eh? xD Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and thanks for reading! Do review and tell me what you thought! Till next time~

[howtohero]

#040 List of Handy Excuses (B)

It’s time for the next installment of our very popular (for a loose definition of “very popular”) list of handy excuses for when you wanna use your job as an excuse to get out of stuff to go fight crime.

A C D E

Babysitter

[No, you have to stay with the children. You wanna be a real hero? Keep an eye on these kids so their parents can have a well-deserved date night.]

Baker

• Great heroes aren’t born… They’re bread(makers).

Baggage Claim Attendant

I found this superhero costume in an abandoned piece of luggage at my work, I figured I might as well try it on and try fighting some bad guys. I mean why not right?

Bailiff

So I’ve been thinking, that judge guy is always having me bring in the evidence for all those court cases, so wouldn’t it be smart if I just went and grabbed pieces of evidence directly from crime scenes? Of course it’s smart. Uch I knew you’d be like this. Gosh it’s called being proactive Karen.

I’m also always showing belligerent witnesses or other such people out of court so wouldn’t it be neat if I showed a belligerent superpowered eco-terrorist out of our city? Of course it’d be neat! Uch why are you always like this. It’s called expanding my market Karen.

Banjo Player

The banjo that Kermit the Frog played in the opening scene of the Muppet Movie is at the Smithsonian. I need to go see it right now.

There’s a Mumford and Sons concert.

Bank Teller

No! No way. Is that a supervillain! I swear to god I cannot deal with this right now. These a-holes come into my bank like eight times a week and stick a gun or -and I kid you not- a four-foot-long flower that squirts acid in my face and hold me hostage and I am just sick of it. I’m out of here. (And then the irony is that really you are going to go put on some spandex and fight that supervillain).

Banker

I have to run out to go, uh, foreclose a house. (The irony is that really you’re going to go put on spandex and stop a house from burning down yay!)

Ball Boy

I am going to throw this baseball at Cthulhu.

Ballerina

Hey check this out! (then do some sick ballerina twirls right out the door).

Barber

I got a haircut the other day and my barber (shout out to Louie!) told me he was going to Italy for two weeks because he’s nearly 80 and he doesn’t know how many times he’s going to get to go to Italy and I thought he had an excellent point. So barbers, no matter what age you are, just tell people this. And then actually go to Italy.

Barker

You can actually use your loud shouting abilities to direct non-powered (read: lame) citizens away from the superhero fight. That’s probably where you can do the most good.

Bartender

Sometimes a supervillain just needs to talk to someone about their problems while that someone wipes the same spot of the counter with an old rag over and over again.

Baseball Player

I have an away game so I might be away for fifteen weeks.

I have a home game so I might be gone for thirty hours.

Basketball Player

Ok so I was playing golf and I made this admittedly kind of lousy shot but then the ball just started rolling and it landed right into the hole, crazy right? Yeah, so I go to get the ball and all of a sudden I get sucked into this cartoon world and these cartoon characters want me to play basketball against some cartoon alien monsters. So if I disappear for a bit that’s probably where I am.

Whoa, do you see that giant robot? How sick would it be if I jumped over that in the next dunk contest? I’m gonna go down there and see if I can’t get my hands on that thing.

Bass Guitarist

Ha! More like super bass (guitarist)!

Bed and Breakfast Proprietors

Literally all you have to do is just wait til after breakfast and before bedtime. Then you can go out and do whatever you want. Lunchtime is your prime crime fighting time.

Beekeeper

I’m sorry I will not be able to make dinner tonight for I have been carried off by a swarm of malignant bees.

I have to go put on my beekeeper suit, it may take a while.

Bellhop

Oh my god you would not believe this guest that’s staying at the hotel. He keeps finding problems with each room we put him in and demanding that we give him a new room and you know who has to carry his 22 incredibly heavy bags to each new room? Me! So if I leave abruptly, that’s where I am.

Bibliographer

Wait a minute, not everything in this non-fiction book is properly sourced and catalogued! I must get to the library posthaste to conduct the research necessary to determine where all of these facts, figures, opinions and otherwise borrowed pieces of writing originates from!

Bigfoot Hunter

Bigfoot’s doing another book reading at Barnes and Noble. It was in all the papers. Honestly, dude’s taking all the fun out of trying to track him down.

Biologist

Fun fact: I am the mitochondria, which is to the say, the “powerhouse” of this city. Therefore I am the only person capable of defeating this supervillain and his… acrobatic… elf army? What?

I have to go… photosynthesize something.

Biographer

Fun supervillain fact: Many supervillains turn to a life of crime and villainy because they feel that they have not gotten the respect that they were due in their pre-supervillain jobs. So maybe if I go down there and offer to write an actual book about them they’ll stop throwing pig carcasses at pedestrians.

Birdwatcher

Oh my god! There’s a light footed clapper rail near that superhero fight! I must get closer and snap some pictures for my rare birds Facebook and Instagram pages. Yes, I know it may be risky. But some things are just worth dying for. The light footed clapper rail is one of them.

Blacksmith

Finally! I’ve been clang clang clanging away on this new super cool armor in my workshop for weeks. I’m gonna put it on and fight that dragon that’s sitting in the park and freaking everybody out.

Boatswain

Some of the important boating equipment which I am responsible for (y’know stuff like life preservers, marine themed shaped snacks, the crew, boat engines?? porthole drapes?) is dangerously close to that rampaging truck monster. I’d better get down there and perform my sworn sacred boatswain duties.

Body Builder

Hey did you hear that I work out now? Yeah just figured I’d let you know in case you’re looking for me while I’m working out. If you can’t find me it’s probably because I’m working out. Crossfit leg day do you even lift crossfit.

Bodyguard

Ok if you’re a bodyguard and you want to go to your side job as a superhero here’s what you’ve gotta do. Wait until your client goes to the bathroom. Then jam the door, look him in there. Then go fight the crime. Then get back and free your client who will have been kept safe by the bathroom until you return.

Bongo Player

I’m gonna go find a bridge to play the bongos under.

Bookkeeper

I’m going to go down and take bets on that superhero fight I’m giving twenty to one odds on that giant mutant bullfrog eating Ultiman.

Botanist

You don’t need to make any excuses, probably your only friends are plants and plants are known to be very supportive of the activities of costumed heroes and vigilantes.

Bowler

(Look down at your shoes) My heavens! These are not my shoes! I must go find the true owners! (A Cinderella story for the modern age.)

Bouncer

I have to get to my post! My bar has a very strict no supervillains allowed rule and if that evil cyborg gets even close to The Drunk Hut it is my solemn responsibility to make sure he doesn’t get inside.

I’m a pretty buff man. I prevent children from sneaking in to the bar. I think it’s time that I step it up a level and bounce that supervillain right out of town.

Bouncy House Operator

Just deflate the thing and go fight crime.

Boxer

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, that villain may be winnin, but he’s not yet met me.

Boy Band Member

Bye. Bye. Bye.

Boy Scout Troop Leader

Ok whoever doesn’t tell their parents that I left early to punch a man made out of fire gets their “Kept a Superhero’s Secret Identity Badge,” their “Didn’t Snitch on Troop Leader Barry Badge” and their “Didn’t Descend into a Lord of the Flies Type Child Murder Chaos Scenario When Left Alone” badge.

Breakdancer

I’m going to challenge that eleven ton troll man from Mars to a dance-off, loser gets banished from Earth, winner gets ice cream (and gets to stay on Earth!)

Breeder

Wait a minute, does that supervillain have a horse that is on fire and also a ghost? Could you imagine what would happen if I acquired that horse and mated it with one of my top racing horses. It would be incredible. I’d be foolish not to get down to that superhero battle right away.

Bubble Blower (such as the kind that perform delightful and mystifying bubble shows)

I am going to delight and mystify this villain right in the face.

The villain is trying to make off with the entire town’s supply of soapy water. I must stop him. Even if I am not a superhero. Which I of course am not. (But say it in a way that sounds less suspicious.)

Buccaneer

I’m what you might call very expensive corn (wait for everyone to groan at your terrible pun) I’ll just see myself out.

Builder

Somebody somewhere just asked “can we fix it!” and I need to go shout “yes we can!” in their face. I know that that sounds like the kind of thing a fixer should be doing but we’ve pretty much taken over the “can we fix it/yes we can” industry thanks to public television.

Bureau of UFO Tracking, Transporting and Studying Agent

I have to go flush out some aliens, I don’t want any of them slipping through the cracks.

Bus Boy

All right everybody we’re going to try something new tonight! Everyone will just bus their own tables this shift! Then you’ll gain a greater appreciation for the working class! (You only need to do this once because you’ll almost definitely be fired for this.)

Bus Driver

If I stopped driving my route every time aliens took over midtown I’d never be able to my job.

Butlers

No no no no, butlers aren’t superheroes. It’s their rich masters who are superheroes. I mean sure butlers are the clear brains behind the entire operation and without them the Billionaire with Issues™ genre of superhero wouldn’t exist but I can’t think of a single butler superhero (as opposed to the dozens of bubble blower and bibliographer superheroes there are out there).

Tune in next time when we tackle all of the “c” occupations. As always if you know of a job that isn’t represented here ((speaking of representation, I’m pretty sure there isn’t any difference between a barrister and a lawyer so you’ll have to wait like a year til we get to L.) By all means, contact us. Or just use a generic excuse like “I need to get down to that superhero fight to see if I can help people in any way that I can because I am a good person” or “I am going out to get orange juice.”

[takeenata]

The Scrapheap

October, 2001. Wife and I have been married for about a year, kids are just a year old. Pirella and I are moving state to state for work, and the current state we’re in is the “Show Me” state. The old fashioned state of Missouri, living near the Kansas City area. I was looking to work as some kind of construction worker, maybe help build homes and buildings for people. But, sadly, I found myself working nine-to-five as a garbageman. Not really all too bad, just an awful smell that lingers onto my clothes and skin, that I usually spend an hour trying to scrub off me. I was thankful to have the helping hands of my wife to get the stink off me.

I was told that I need to wear this bright yellow vest and a type of hat with a bill on it. So everyday I go to work wearing a light gray shirt, some worn jeans, black boots, thick work gloves, and a black baseball cap.

I worked with two other gentlemen on a daily basis. They were named Frank, and Louie. Frank was a irish-man with a set of red-haired mutton chops, who wasn’t all into drinking despite the stereotypes. Louie was canadian, bald, with a bit of a gut to him. My relationship with these two men was nothing past co-workers, but the two were friends way before I joined their daily routine of collecting people’s filth; they had been working together for about ten-years.

While we’re on a lunch break, the three of us eating some sub-sandwich in the front seats of our trash-filed truck, Louie says something that caught the attention of Frank and I. “Have you two heard ‘bout that monster in the junkyard?”

“Our junkyard?” Frank asked.

“Nah, not ours. The other guys, the one that drives around, taking the blue bins.” We collect the black colored trash bins, and drive around in a green trash truck. “There’s some kinda monster that put the other guys outta business.”

“How do you put an entire junkyard outta business?”

“When workers refuse to go there anymore ‘cause they’re afraid of this thing. Didn’t you hear that it killed a cop already?”

That caught my interest even more so. Louie was getting more and more irritated by the looks of it, saying “A cop, really?”

“Yeah!”

Louie shook his head in disagreement. “This is a bad rumor spreading ain’t it? I’m pretty sure if a cop was killed they’d go in and investigate.”

“What if the cops are scared of this thing, Louie?”

“Then why the hell are they cops? Get someone in there with some stones and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Frank laughed, then said “Are you the one that’ll do it?”

“I’ll do it,” I said, interrupting their conversation. The two looked past their argument, and their lunch, and gazed confused at me. Most of the time I remained quiet and to myself, just doing my job and getting my paycheck. I’m pretty sure that this is the first time in awhile I said something to them.

Louie reassured that. “Don’t say a thing for months and you cowboy up for that?”

I shrug my shoulders and answered with “You’re both being kinda silly with this. I’ll go in, see what’s happening, and hopefully word will spread that there’s not a damn thing going on in that junkyard.”

“What if there is a monster though,” Frank questioned. “I don’t believe there’s a monster in there.” I was lying of course. I had suspicion that there’s something happening in that junk yard. The rumors were newer, and relevant. They had to have some kind of truth behind it, in some way.

“You’re an elf and you’re doubting another monster being real?” Louie coined in. He had a point to make, in this world a lot of strange oddities come and go. Which only lead me to believe that there is something to be found.

“Shut up. I’ll go after work.”

…

Five in the afternoon on this day. This is kind of early from my usual days. I take the bus home in hopes to save on gas and cash, which usually works. In the morning I also take the bus to work. I am usually the first man on the bus, and the last one off. Today however, I guess the driver forgot some stop somewhere and didn’t want to go correct themselves. Sad that someone might be late for something because of this operator, but I am happy at least to come home early.

My family resides inside a single bedroom, single kitchen, single bathroom, small living room, apartment.  A duplex actually. It’s enough room for the infant children to grow and play, and enough room, for now, for Pirella and I to do what’s needed and live on our lives. We don’t own much personal property between the four of us. I keep a bit of tools and spare clothes, my wife more tools and even more clothes, a crib for our children and blankets given to them by Frederick when they were born.

Moving on, I come home during the evening of this day, greeting my wife with both our kids in her arms. All three of which have fallen asleep on the couch; it must’ve been one hard day for her, but if they’re all three asleep together, then it’d be wrong of me to wake any of them up. I take a scrap piece of paper, scribble where I’ll be, what I’m doing, and what time I should be back home; in my head, no later than midnight. I didn’t bother to take a shower just yet, seeing how I was going to visit a junkyard there’d be no sense in ridding myself of an awful stench just so another would cling on to me. The only thing added to my wardrobe was the utility belt that held my pistol.

I had no garage. Only had a driveway that was shared with the connected neighbor. It was funny to see the difference between a traveler and a local, just by seeing what kind of car they had. My neighbor drove a 1992 Toyota Camry, two doors with a brown color to it, with a Missouri license plate. I drove a 1997 Dodge Durango, with a Michigan plate. If the plates didn’t tell the difference, the milage sure could’ve. This had been my second vehicle bought, the first one having been through a few troubled years of damage. This one was due for replacement too, the engine started to sound heinous. I’m not a repairman, or any sort of car fixer to know what’s wrong with it. I also didn’t have the right cash to take it to get repaired. I pull myself into the vehicle, start the engine as fast as I could, and drove away in hopes that it wouldn’t disturb or awake my wife and/or kids.

Give or take; twenty-minutes later I arrive at the abandoned junkyard. I could imagine that there’d be some kind of security here, kind of like how my job has somebody watching the piles of garbage to make sure no one gets in; there wasn’t a single guard or post in sight. Believe it or not, people want trash and state government won’t let people have it back. This has started to make me question if what I’m throwing away is something another man can use, or if I can find a way to reuse it.

The only security were two padlocks and a coil of chains. I had two obvious options: take my pistol and waste two bullets breaking the locks, possibly gain the attention of someone nearby that will call to complain about gunfire, which would send officers here, and get me in more trouble with the law; I could hop the fence. There was a third option that came to mind of using some hot flames from my hands to melt the locks off, but that seemed like overkill for me. So I climbed over the tall fence, pushed away at the barbed wire at the top so I wouldn’t get pricked too much, and landed on the flats of my feet with a grunt.

I’d scout the area for what seemed like an hour, and only found several football fields worth of junk. Just straight junk. At the same time, I could understand why people assumed this place had a monster. The wind knocked and moved unstable bits of trash. The noises of items being moved or adjusting to their new location was unsettling too; I understood why it was assumed there was a monster here, but I was still lost what made so many workers here run away in fear. Supposedly run away in fear. There had to have been more reason. Which meant I’m continuing my search.

...

Another hour later, I came across a terrible stench. It wasn’t the smell of trash either, or rusted items. It smelled of something dead, rotted. I could hear the sound of many flies buzzing from afar as well, which only furthered my theory that there was something deceased within this scrapyard; could it be the officer that Louie and Frank were talking about, or maybe just an animal that got into the wrong place? I followed the foul odor to what looked like a makeshift shack in the heart of this yard. I was kind of surprised something like this was made in the environment provided; was it possible the workers here built this place as some kind of joke, or maybe a place for them to relax? The smell could be food, flies attracted to it for whatever reason nature needs them for.

I step foot into the shack, and had immediately regretted doing such. It was like setting foot inside another world of horror; like looking into the laboratory of Dr. Frankenstein, if he had set his castle and sinister workings in the heart of a trashyard. Loose wires are hanging from the ceiling. Televisions and computer monitors, both with broken and exploded screens, are scattered all across, some left on floors and others either bolted or taped onto the steel walls. Pieces of broken glass decorated the floors of this makeshift home. I know it was a home too; there was a disgusting-stained mattress with a sleeping bag on top of it. The very person who lived here was home too. Dead on the floor, with the strangest of helmets strapped around his head; devices all around this shed structure lead several hundred wires across the walls and attach themselves all around this helmet. Either this place is some kind of makeshift electric chair, or the man was trying to do something with his mind. Maybe install something into his brain, make himself super intelligent? I didn’t want to know.

I look around this place, trying to piece together some kind of story. What I have so far is this man must’ve built this machine, and it turned and fried his brain out. That’s about as simple as I could think of it. As I think, I hear movement outside. There was no way it was just the wind; the object I heard sounded like something heavier being moved. I drew my hand cannon and started to head outside to investigate, but when I opened up the door, I was blocked by a rusted car. Something managed to move an entire car to block my path, but it wasn’t clever enough to consider that I can crawl through the vehicle’s busted windows and get out the other side.

I scan the area, being outside now. All was quiet, which was just a terrible sign that danger was near. All things were making noises earlier, and now it was as quiet as a mouse. I stood still, waiting for some kind of movement, something to shift in the area. Sure enough, from behind the building I heard the shuffling of metal parts and the scratching of metal.

Fast as I could manage I found the source of the sound. It was something that was ten-feet-tall, covered with a burlap robe, and the way it was grunting and struggling, trying to climb up a giant mound of scrap metal but failing to do so; I knew it was panicing. It was afraid of me. I had wondered the reasons it was scared of me, and assumed it was just scared of the gun I had pointed on it. I wasn’t sure what instinct made me put away my magnum, but I did. I shouted out at this behemoth “Where do you think you’re going?”

It must’ve not heard me at all approaching it. After I asked the giant, it quickly turned around to face me. It wasn’t a giant at all; it was some kind of machine made out of spare parts. A living junk pile; a collective of broken things; a scrapheap. Two pieces of scratched glass stare at me with surprise, or what I could assume was surprise when I witnessed two dots shrink and shake. It stopped what it was doing, backing up to the furthest thing to be called a corner. A giant rusted arm and a proportionally sized arm covered up it’s odd shaped head, and it spoke out with voice that sounded emitted from a megaphone, if it was covered up. “No hurt! No bad!”

The broken english was a surprise for me. I raised my hands, gesturing I didn’t want to hurt him at all by waving them before me. “Not gonna hurt you, not unless you deserve it.”

“Did no bad!” It was still trying to fortify an escape. “Accident!”

The word accident caught my attention pretty well. I took careful steps towards the metallic ogre-like creature, hands out before me. “Take a breather, bud. I’m not accusing you of anything. What happened here?”

“B-bud? Friend?” The creature stopped it’s panicking, lumbering a few loud steps at me.

“Yeah, friend. So, tell me what happened?”

The hulking android would slam their bottom against the rough dirt, making an absurdly loud noise that lasted for a while. “See colors two weeks ago. Sleeping man on floor. See skin mountains all around, and wanted to see more. Try to leave but small pink scared by me. Cannot leave home.”

At first I couldn’t understand what all they meant. It only became clear to me later. They woke up two weeks ago to see a dead man on the floor. They looked around and seen they’re inside the heart of this scrapyard, seeing it was material it was made out of too. I could piece together that there was a chance that the man laying dead on the floor and the machine he was strapped to had something to do with the birth of this golem of garbage. Was it using his body to power it; a religious belief; deranged thoughts of a man living in a junkyard? The wicked science behind this metallic man brings only questions, and I grow worried of the answers.

I guess they ventured out at some point, wanting to see more than trash around them, but a child had seen them. Maybe not even a child; small is relevant to the sayer, to it I am small. To me, my children are small. To my kids, an ant is small. This could explain the rumors of the monster existing, and how it spread. Doesn’t exactly explain why workers left though. I decided to ask it what it knew about the garbage men that worked here, saying “Has anyone tried to enter your home?”

“Many have. Scared away! No mean to! I do wrong?”

“Not as far as I know, uh - what’s your name again?”

“No name. Never have.” It brought it’s giant rusted hand to scratch the top of it’s wired head. “Name is. Scrapheap!” Lights around it’s neck and head started to shine bright with blue. The way it’s voice sounded, it simulated joy.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Heard before. Bad?”

“It’s not bad. If Scrapheap is what you want to be called, then good to meet you, Scrapheap.”

“Good elf --” I heard the long pause that played with a buzzing sort of sound. I had guessed this was how Scrapheap was pensive.

“I am an elf, but call me Tak.”

“Good Tak.” I let out a laugh, in which the golem tilted their head and wires with an obvious sense of confusion.

“What noise?”

I looked back at Scrapheap with a same level of confusion they gave me. I questioned exactly how young-minded the giant was. “That’s laughter. What you said was funny?”

“What is ‘funny.’”

“I uh. I’m not sure how to explain it either. It’s just something that makes you happy and you express it by laughing.” “What is happy?”

I’d spend a while teaching Scrapheap everything I knew about emotions. Scrapheap could express emotions apparently; there was christmas lights adorned around his neck and chest with different colors, and they’d light up those individual colors based off his mood. They were blue for most of the duration I talked to him, which I was sure meant they were calm and at ease. Though when Scrap trying to dig away from me, they shimmered an orange, which probably meant fear of some kind.

By spending a while teaching. I meant a while. Not only for the remainder of the night, but the day after, the following weeks, and the remainder of the year. Even after my wife and I left Missouri, Scrapheap managed to keep contact with me, using some broken tech in their home to message my phone. I’d always talk to him, teaching him many things over the phone and with a cheap laptop.

Our relationship as friends goes as far as me considering Scrapheap as the far-away child of mine. I’ve taught them right from wrong, good morals and bad conduct. As much English as I could teach them, speaking wise; I let my wife teach him how to speak since she usually has better structure than I do. I haven’t figured out if she’s yet to consider Scrapheap like a third child; a distant one at that.

Though I guess most children don’t supply their fathers with tools to do their work. I had told Scrapheap that Pirella and I used to travel coast-to-coast looking for trouble anywhere we went, and dealt with problems that caused other innocent people problems. With that, he managed to make me certain tool that have long since helped me out in my career as a hunter-esq of whatever manner. I don’t question how he’s able to get them to my home, but I don’t bother to ask.

Scrapheap has been a great ally of mine for over a decade. In a world full of strange creatures and oddities, Scrapheap fits right into the quota of odd-jobs. But that’s alright; something new does not mean something bad, all the time.

[brothers-all]

Vod’ika 14

Okay, finally back with these... even though they're short. Sorry 'bout that...

Okay, so, this one is short - again - and given the requests I got, the new few might be as well? I dunno, we'll see. As always, read, review and enjoy~

Everyone hated being stuck in the infirmary, but they didn't get much of a choice. But at least they had someone drop by, keep them company or give them something to do.

"Make room!" Kix called, ran into the infirmary. "Fives, set him down there," the medic pointed at one of the beds, rushing off to grab his gear.

"C'mon Echo, stay with me here," Fives whispered, carrying the limp body of his brother and lying him on the bed. "Kix, he's not breathing!"

"Give me some room!" the medic was already working with his equipment, pushing the ARC trooper away.

"What can I do?" Fives looked with panic between the two soldiers, as Fixer came closer as well. "Just tell me!"

"Nothing now. Give us space and time," Fixer explained as Kix already worked.

It was about an hour later that Fives was able to come back inside. He saw Echo was already awake, but the bandages all over his body didn't bode well.

"But Kix, I told you," Echo said, sounding worse than he looked. "I'm fine. Just some scrapes and bruises. I can still work."

"Aha," Kix was ignoring him fully, putting away his equipment. "Do you want me to count down all of your injuries?"

"…No…" Fives grinned as he walked closer, seeing his brother drop his shoulders.

"It's not so bad – it's been a while since we've been back here," he spoke up, getting the soldiers' attention.

"Hey, where's Jesse?" Echo asked and Kix eyed them both.

"Giving the report to Rex. They just had a run-in with the Techno Union."

"Ah, we missed it… These ARC missions have been keeping us pretty busy…"

"Yeah, they have. Now I see Kix giving me the look, so I'll make myself scares. I'd say don't go anywhere, but with him here, you won't."

It was two escape attempts, five yells and one threat of a coma induced sleep later that Ahsoka dropped by the infirmary.

"Hey there vod," she greeted, walking closer lightly and with a smile. "Heard what happened. Rex sends his regards, but he had Captain duties to attend," she tried to mimic the man's voice and got the wounded man to laugh.

"Sounds like him yeah. Fives and Jesse doing better?" Echo asked, seeing her pull up a chair by his bed and sit down.

"If by better you mean scarfing down any scrap of food they can? Then yeah," again, the two laughed, although the ARC winced in pain.

"Explosions are never fun," she said dryly, leaning on the bed. "And I imagine Kix isn't letting you out of here anytime soon…"

"Right on both points," it was only then that the soldier saw something behind her back.

"Well, lucky for you I came prepared!" she smirked and pulled the said item forward, presenting it to him like a gift. And he wasn't sure if he should laugh or groan.

"A reg manual? Really?" she was laughing as he took the data pad.

"Hey, a few new rules came around for all the ships, new shinies and a really complicated routine that I'm pretty sure Rex ignored fully."

"Haha, then I better give it a read. What else am I going to do while I'm stuck here," Echo grinned and looked down at the pad again. "Thank you, for brining something."

"Sure thing. I know how everyone hates being stuck in here. And I wanted to hear what you three ARCs have been up to. I miss my vode," she smiled and made herself more comfortable, knowing Echo wouldn't let her go disappointed.

"Haha! Where do you want me to start? The good? The bad? Or the crazy?"

"Let's go with the good – crazy is nothing new for us."

Cut! Okay, so, like I said - short. I'm honestly kinda running out of ideas and the like, so I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be. We'll see I guess... Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Fancy a review? That'd be really cool of you! Till next time~