#finally getting to coloring some comms now that my arm has been doing decent

[werewolfbarista]

lykoi trollsona:)

(any pronouns)

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

First Lines

So @klaineharmony @wordshakerofgallifrey and @radioactivepigeons ​all tagged me to do this so uh here it is. This is NOT including academic stuff. But it IS including original work. 

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some lovely people!

Hitch Hiker - my book:

It’s raining, hard enough to hit the windshield in fat drops though he can still clearly see the wet road ahead. Oliver isn’t speeding, in high school he would’ve flown around the curves out of town. But now? Coming home and in bad weather? He manages to stay just below the speed limit. And a good thing too.

I don’t want to linger any longer - DCU, Batman, Green Arrow:

Alfred was leery of the summer camp. Bruce went to public school partially because of Martha's pointed remarks regarding democracy and public education, partly because of her pointed remarks regarding Thomas's own time at boarding schools and prep schools surrounded by equally rich and entitled boys. Alfred never said anything at the time, it wasn't his place, and would never say anything now but, he whole heartedly believed both. Especially after his own childhood in private schools, even if the times and the British and American systems were very different. Regardless, Bruce was remaining in public school with all the trials it entailed. Including the socializing problem.

untitled post final chapter short for Hitch Hiker:

“I’m so glad I get to be here for this,” Eve practically flung herself onto the couch, bouncing slightly before settling. She’d just gotten dropped off after rehearsal and was miraculously still teeming with energy.

Give Me the Stars - an original short story:

Morgan leaned closer to the mirror, shifting her hair so she could examine the new growth near her scalp. It was a dark, almost dull brown and the scalp itself didn’t seem red or irritated. She half combed her fingers through it while she shook her hand loose of the strands. Where the few centimeters of brown ended, a shifting cascade of colors began. A swirl or wave or reflection of green and blue and purple with notes of black and pink and sometimes silver. Like an oil slick made tangible. Except, after two months it’d lost its glimmer, its shine. Which didn’t really matter since Morgan spent about seventy percent of the time tucking it up under one hat or another.

glitter and gold - DCU:

She hadn’t been expecting the second explosion. None of them had been expecting the second explosion. Luckily, they were all clear of the debris but Steph’s ears were ringing. A gut feeling said her comm had been knocked out but it’s not like she’d be able to tell right now anyway. She swayed, unsteady. But Batgirl had to worry about the people around her, not herself. A cursory glance looked as though the block’s residents had gotten back far enough before the blast hit. Leaving them covered in dust but unharmed.

five phones on the table - DCU, Titans:

The long table with its numerous chairs was, by proximity to the kitchen, a dining table but due to the nature of the building it occupied doubled as a meeting and strategy table. The small net, paddles, and light plastic balls stored in an innocuous box in the kitchen meant it tripled as a ping pong table.

Adulting Fail - DCU, Titans, Nightwing:

“RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON,” Donna says and for an instant he wonders how a woman who has never met his mother can sound exactly like her. But then again, Donna has always been and will always be his older sister, never mind the fact neither are sure if it’s by three months or three thousand years.

Seventh Floor Walkup - DCU, Titans, Nightwing:

Dick may slightly regret asking his friends to help him move. See, he didn’t have the funds for real movers but had promised pizza if they helped. Except Roy and Garth could each eat a whole pizza, Donna could eat two, and Wally half a baker’s dozen. Which left Dick carrying eleven boxes of pizza to his seventh-floor walkup.

Et tu Brute - DCU, Flash, Batman:

“What the-?” Barry shifted his momentum with ease, turning from where he’d been running towards the Batcomputer and Bruce waiting there for him to instead run towards the metallic object low to the ground and glowing a dull green he’d spotted out of the corner of his eye.

you were shunned and burned your cradle - Newsies:

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

The Devil Wears What? - DCU, Hellblazer, Zatanna:

“What is this?” John slurred, arm flopping towards the television screen.

The Hattrick - DCU, Green Arrow, Hellblazer:

There is a strong possibility that Mia is in hell. It’d be vaguely poetic and certainly fitting if her personal hell were an empty warehouse. The fact John Constantine is here definitely sells the idea.

Inhouse House Party - Les Miserables: 

“I thought we agreed that we weren’t doing Halloween this year?” Enjolras half grumbled, half called up the steps. “In light of the fact that there is a global pandemic and we’ve been responsibly quarantining and social distancing this whole time.” Despite his complaints, he still fixed the ridiculous headband he wore as part of his costume. The halved wiffle ball glued onto it made pretty decent looking fly eyes, but the weight was weird and the whole thing kept slipping as a result.

Second Time is Coincidence - DCU, Green Arrow, Hellblazer:

“Oh c’mon,” Mia groaned, slumping against the bonds that currently had her suspended from the warehouse ceiling. “Not you again!”

Three Musketeers - DCU, Batfam:

Bristol was technically in Gotham City limits. Though the gilted mansions and private woods with pastures and stables seemed like a whole other world in comparison. The residents liked to think so too, especially because – despite Gotham’s robust public transportation system – it was almost impossible to reach the rich suburb from the city proper. It was because they lived in this separate world that Bristol’s wealthy residents often fought to receive special treatment or even secede from the city all together.

Deal? Deal. - DCU, Hellblazer, Zatanna:

“No,” John whined, drawing it out into about six syllables. He stretched his arm out, nearly falling off the couch in the process, but Zatanna just pushed the half-empty glass of whiskey further away from the edge of the coffee table and out of his reach.

Pumpkin Guts - Les Miserables:

There had been strange noises coming from the kitchen all afternoon. Combeferre was staunchly ignoring them because he’s trying to finish reading this journal article before anyone else came home. Having Courfeyrac in the vague direction of behind him and doing who knew what all is more than enough of a distraction. Besides, Ferre can fairly well ignore the sounds coupled with Courf’s slightly off-key humming of Nightmare Before Christmas.

Sunrise Shadows - DCU, Batgirl, Starman:

It was late, or early depending on your perspective, and Steph was that bone deep tired that came after a fight to save the fate of the world. Which was fine, they’d won, but she didn’t really know where in the world she was and Steph really just wanted to crawl into bed. Maybe take her suit off first. Possibly slap some Neosporin on her cuts and scrapes. But mostly sleep.

The Good Stuff - Newsies:

Kath pulled her favorite armchair into the doorway of her apartment. The antique wingback her friends had helped her liberate from a thrift store in Queens and then clean and reupholster. It was, undeniably, too heavy to be shoved across the hardwood like that but Kath wanted to be comfy. And there were the little felt things on the legs to protect her floor.

Salt and Iron - DCU, Batgirl: 

Steph pried her bedroom window open before slipping in and closing it firmly behind herself. Then locked it for good measure. Sure, she’d seen some weirdness since first putting on a mask, and just a few months into her time as Batgirl she’d even fought off some Segway riding vampires with Kara. But this was different. For one, they weren’t real vampires but Dracula from an old film brought to life. For another, it looked like literal hell had overtaken Gotham.

Well, I either have really long opening lines or my understanding of what constitutes opening “lines” is skewed. Also my formatting didn’t always past so poo on tumblr for that. Hmm, this is mostly Halloween fics but also fairly indicative of what I write which is nice. I like that I start with dialogue so often, it’s weirdly fitting for me as a person. The cold open musing on Gotham’s social, political, economic structure at Three Musketeers isn’t my favorite but I am obsessed with it. I think Second Time is Coincidence is my favorite because Mia’s response to John is the only response anyone should ever have to John Constantine. 

All of my friends have already been tagged~ 

[lyssismagical]

hold my hand for just a second

Whumptober Day Six - Dragged Away 

Read on AO3

Peter flew through the air, propelled by his webs, throwing one after the next as he swings through the forest.

“Spider-Man? You in?” Steve says through the comms.

“Yep, Karen got it all set up. ETA of about ten minutes unless I get stopped again.”

Peter’s been keeping perimeter to make sure none of the Hydra Agents escape the base, but it’s been pretty boring with the Avengers fighting inside, there are barely any people who’ve escaped. But Tony’s finally relented and Peter’s going to be allowed to fight at the back entrance where too many of the Hydra agents have congregated.

“Stay alert,” Steve replies quickly, conversation ending.

But when has that ever stopped Peter. “Afterwards, can we go get ice cream? I left my wallet in my jacket which I left at school… Hopefully, Ned grabbed my stuff. I left in a hurry. At least, I remembered to text May and let her know. She said she’d be suspending my Spider-Manning if I skipped another day of school without at least letting her know. She’s been called one too many times by teachers who think I’ve gone missing. Or that I was kidnapped. Happy isn’t the most trustworthy looking adult for me to leave with.”

“Spidey, do you really want us to kick you off the comms again?” Sam asks. “You better watch your luck, kid.”

“Not happening,” Tony speaks up. He sounds out of breath. “If the kid is helping, he stays on the comms no matter how annoying he gets. I don’t want him to need us and not be able to talk to us or ask for help, which he will do, won’t he?”

Peter, warm with embarrassment, quickly agrees. “Yeah, Mister Stark. Of course, I’m working on it.”

“Good kid. Now, hush up, and focus on not landing flat on your face.”

“That was one time, Mister Stark!”

*

The comms had been quiet for a little while beyond Peter’s quips and remarks as he webbed up at least two dozen hydra agents, the majority of them knocked out. Peter had sustained his fair share of injuries throughout the fight. Including what he suspected was a concussion and at least a few broken fingers, along with plenty of the usual bruises. He had a few cuts and slices in his suit, but the majority of them were already scabbing thanks to his healing.

In all, he’s just tired. And maybe a little hungry.

“Is it too early to cash in on some ice cream?” he asks. He’s alone at the back of the building, except for the nearby agents he’d webbed up, but they aren’t providing any conversation.

“Find Tony, kid. Get him to take you home. The rest of us are going to wait here for Shield to get here and take care of this.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Peter says, slinging himself up to the top of the building to survey the area for the red suit. “Is he not online?”

“His suit went offline a few minutes ago. I assumed he was done and took it off.” Steve doesn’t sound bothered at all, but Peter is. Tony wouldn’t have just taken off his suit.

Karen wordlessly pulls up a map to Tony’s last location and Peter takes off, webbing through the trees. Something’s wrong. He can feel it.

*

Rhodey hears the scream for help from miles away. A child’s scream. One full of agony and desperation.

He takes off. He knows that scream and the only reason he’d be screaming like that would be if Tony-

“Kid, can you listen to me?” he says. His suit can only take him so fast and Tony’s suit is offline. “Peter, I need you to listen to me.”

“Rhodey?” Peter sounds small. Like a child desperately seeking help. His breaths are heaving, pulling out of his lungs too fast, and he’s obviously crying. “Please- he- I-”

“I need you to breathe,” Rhodey says, no room for argument. “And I need you to tell me what happened?”

Peter sobs in response, a noise that makes Rhodey feel like he was punched in the stomach. He bumps up the speed of his suit, going as fast as he possibly can without the engines combusting. It hits him then, more than it normally does, that Peter is just a child. Rhodey’s been trying to order him around like a soldier on a battlefield, but Peter’s just a kid. A very scared kid.

“You’re doing so well, Pete. I just need you to focus on breathing, okay?” Rhodey says, dropping his voice into a gentle tone. One that he’s heard Tony take on more than once. “Just breathe, kiddo.”

Peter tries, Rhodey will give him that much, but it doesn’t do to much to help Peter’s panic.

But Rhodey doesn’t have the time to coach the kid through his breathing, not when he’s landing in a clearing in the forest. There’s a building behind them, probably the size of a shed. It’s on fire, smoke filling the sky above the clearing. And Tony, oh my god, Tony.

His suit is smoking, half opened around his body. Rhodey can see scratch marks on the chest plate and when he makes himself look, he sees Peter’s bloody fingers. The kid probably tried to rip it off Tony, and it worked decently. The majority of Tony’s torso is out of the suit, just his limbs still encased in the metal.

Tony’s eyes are closed though. Blood trickling down the side of his face and hair sticking to his skin.

“Please,” Peter begs, sobs hitching in his throat. “Please, help him!”

The young hero is curled over his father-figure’s body, bloodied hands clutching the fabric of Tony’s undershirt. His mask is gone and his gloves are torn to pieces, but otherwise he seems decently intact, not including the cuts and bruises from the mission, and the tears that steadily stream down his rosy face.

Rhodey has to force himself to keep looking. He doesn’t want to see Peter’s child-like expression, colored with fear and anguish. He doesn’t want to see it, but he can’t look away. He has to be the adult now.

“Steve,” he says into his comms. “I need a Bruce and a stretcher here. Tony’s down.”

“Is he okay?” Natasha speaks up for the first time since the team assembled earlier. She prefers to work silently. “What happened?”

“Not sure. Kid’s not doing great,” Rhodey responds quietly. “According to FRI’s last stats, Tony was a little worse for wear, but nowhere near bad levels. He’s not responding though. Not to me or to Peter.”

It carries more than just that because Tony will always wake up for Peter. If the kid needed him, Tony would fight anything to get to him, even his own pain. Everyone knows that. And with the way the kid had screamed, he should’ve woken up.

“Bruce is prepping the stretcher. We’ll take the quinjet out to you. ETA of ten minutes.”

Rhodey doesn’t bother answering, focusing his attention on Peter.

“Hey, buddy, Tony’s gonna be just fine,” Rhodey says. He’s never had to be this person for Peter, he’s only ever had to be the fun uncle. “He’s going to be okay.”

Peter barely even moves, head tucked against the crook of Tony’s shoulder, back shuddering with Peter’s loud sobs and cries. Rhodey gently lays a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles, hoping it’ll be enough until Bruce gets here.

“Okay, I need space to check him over,” Bruce calls out, hurrying down the ramp from the quinjet, flying overhead, pulling a stretcher behind him. “Peter, can you let me see him?”

Peter shakes his head against Tony’s shoulder, a sob wracking through his body. “Don’t- Don’t take him from me. Please- please. I can’t- I can’t-”

“I’m not taking him anywhere, Peter. I just need to check and make sure he’s okay. You understand that, right? He just needs a bandaid to fix his owies.”

Schooling his features into stone, he doesn’t let the surprise show. He didn’t think Bruce would speak to Peter like he’s a toddler. Owies and bandaids. He supposes it would be better for Peter to hear it like that.

But Peter still shakes his head, acting more and more childish as he clings to Tony’s chest.

And Bruce turns to Rhodey.

“Could you grab him?” There’s guilt coloring his expression. “I need to make sure Tony’s okay, but I can’t if… Just hold onto him for a few minutes. He can grab back on the minute I give the okay.”

Rhodey re-engages the suit, letting it close up over his body. He hooks his arms under Peter’s arms and links his hands in front of Peter’s chest. He turns on the repulsors and rips Peter away from Tony’s body, giving Bruce a few feet of space.

Peter screams almost animalistically, fighting against Rhodey’s tight hold. His super strength coming out full force as he easily dents the metal in Rhodey’s suit, fighting as hard as he can. Luckily, Rhodey’s suit is strong.

A flash of red and then Natasha’s standing in front of Peter, carefully just outside the reach of his thrashing legs.

“Hey! Kid, I need you to stop it. You’re scaring us right now. Tony’s okay. I promise you, Tony’s okay.” But her words, like the attempts of all the others, fall on deaf ears, Peter’s cries louder than the reassurances will ever be.

“He’s hurting himself,” Steve says, wincing. He’s at Nat’s side, a bruise rapidly forming on the side of his face. It’s true, Peter’s fingers are bleeding and probably broken, with the way his legs are kicking, Rhodey wouldn’t be surprised if the poor kid at least sprained an ankle, and he’s hit his head at least a few times.

“I have a bad idea.” Nat’s guiltily eyeing the bruise on Steve’s face.

They all understand, a mutual decision, but it’ll probably be for the best at the end of the day. A bruised face versus broken fingers and ankles and a concussion.

“Do it,” Rhodey says, tightening his grip on Peter’s middle and waist. He hates this more than he’d like to admit considering how often he daydreams about punching the Avengers in the face.

Steve, careful to avoid the kid’s flailing limbs, moves into range and with a whispered apology, throws a punch.

Peter finally stops, body falling limp in Rhodey’s grip like a puppet who got it’s strings cut.

They all stand in guilty silence for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed, until Bruce speaks up.

“Yeah, he’s okay. Concussed, two deeper lacerations, and a few minor injuries, but nothing too bad. He’s okay. He’ll be fine. C’mon, lets get them to the medbay.”

*

Tony wakes up to a familiar warm weight against his side, immediately drawing the warmth protectively closer to him.

“Mm, Pete?” Tony slurs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. “’s tha’ you?”

Peter doesn’t answer, but Rhodey does from the chair by the bed.

“You two are the worlds most difficult people to deal with, you know that?”

“He okay?” Tony asks, suddenly wide awake and checking over the teenager for any injuries. His hands are wrapped in gauze and he has an ankle stabilizer on. Otherwise, there’s only the worrying bruise filling one of his cheeks.

Rhodey sighs. “He panicked, Tony. Totally, utterly, Tony Stark-styled, panicked. Steve had to knock him out before he hurt himself anymore.”

“Steve hit my kid?”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodey sighs again. “That’s not what you were supposed to take from that. You were supposed to worry about the fact that you putting yourself in harms way, hurt your kid too. He broke half his fingers trying to get back to you when I took him away so Bruce could take a look. He tore your suit open with his bare hands.”

But instead of looking worried, Tony shrugs. “The kid’s got attachment issues. I don’t blame him.”

“I believe I told you to blame yourself for this one.”

Tony put his hand over his heart, looking offended. “I thought we were working through me not blaming myself for everything.”

“Blame yourself for things that are your fault, like this one. You shouldn’t have gone by yourself!”

“Shh,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s curls off his forehead. “Kid’s trying to sleep.”

“Sorry-”

“He’s just pretending. C’mon. The jig’s up, kid.”

On cue, Peter cracks his eyes open, squinting blurrily up at Tony. “Sorry ‘bout your suit.”

“Sorry about your hands.”

Peter smiles, looking down at his white-wrapped hands. “Bandaids for our ouchies.”

“I’m not going anywhere, kid. I hope you know that.”

“Mmhm. Got scared,” Peter says, tiredness coating his voice. “Right here.”

“Yeah, I’m right here, Pete. Get some sleep.”

“Don’t hurt Mister Captain.”

Tony laughs gently, planting a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “No promises, kiddo. Nobody touches my kid and gets away with it.”

Peter snuggles a little closer. “Night-night.”

“Goodnight, kid.”

[cdelphiki]

It was all Drake’s fault.  

Of that, Damian had no doubt.  How it was Drake’s fault remained to be seen, but it certainly was not Damian who gave away their location, causing them to be outnumbered and subdued.  By a drug lord’s cronies, of all things.

Not even a big-named villain.  

But drug dealers.  

And now, Damian was kneeling on the ground, next to a mostly unconscious Red Robin, his hands tightly bound behind his back to his legs.  No amount of pulling at the cuffs were helping them come loose, and it was maddening.  He didn’t even have enough mobility to try to pull out the lock picks he kept hidden in his sleeve.  

“Quit struggling, boy,” a new voice sneered from Damian’s left, “my men cemented the lock, it’s not coming off.”

Scowling, Robin hissed, “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“Shove it, kid,” one of the thugs said, just as his boot collided with Damian’s head.

Damian wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he next came to.  He was laying on the ground and his left arm was asleep.  So it’d probably been at least ten minutes.  

And now, his head was on fire.  No, it was worse than on fire, it felt like someone was stabbing him from inside.  Like his brain was expanding and pushing against the skull, seconds away from exploding.

He knew he was being dramatic, of course.  It was just a concussion, but he was allowed to be as dramatic as he wanted inside his own head.  Especially when this was all Drake’s fault.

Once they got out of there, Drake was dead.  

“There we go,” a gruff voice said from about six feet in front of Damian.  

Robin didn’t want to alert his captors to his regained consciousness, not yet, so he kept his eyes shut.  Besides, he just knew the lights in the warehouse were going to be a bitch on his headache.  And he’d like to delay the inevitable as long as possible.  

Then Drake groaned and mumbled out a pathetic, “wha’re you doin’,” and Damian could hear what sounded like someone being dragged across the floor.  So he probably should open his eyes and check.

He needed to know what the idiots were doing with Red Robin. Father would not be very pleased if Damian let the moron die.

“Wha’ you jus’ do,” the teen mumbled from where he was now sitting on the opposite side of the room, and if Damian could see Drake’s eyes, he was sure he’d be blinking slowly and blearily.  

���Just give it a minute,” one of the thugs sneered.  There were five of them in the room, two standing at the doorway, two on either side of Red Robin, and the fifth standing in front of Red Robin with his back toward Damian.

That was a mistake on his part.

Or… it would be.  If Damian could freaking move.  He pulled at his restraints again, and used the momentum to get back up onto his knees.

“Looks like the little one’s awake, Boss,” one of the lackeys said, and Damian wanted to roll his eyes.  

But he knew that would just make his head hurt worse, so instead he scoffed, “Tt, impressive deduction skills.”

“Don’t worry, little guy,” ‘Boss’ said, “you’ll get your turn next.”

“My turn with what?” he asked darkly, narrowing his eyes at Red Robin.  What, exactly, were they doing to him?

At the moment, it appeared to be nothing.  No one was even touching the imbecile, just standing around him.

“Our newest creation, of course,” Boss said happily, and Damian was having flashbacks to moments spent around Scarecrow or the Joker.

What was with loons in Gotham and their obsession with weird drugs?

“Oh,” Red Robin said dreamily, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “hehe.  This’s good.”

“What did you do to him?” Robin demanded a bit more forcefully, “what did you give him?”  Drake did not giggle.  And he rarely smiled in such a… a… weird way.  Light?  No, Drake’s smiles were usually either kind or smug.  Not carefree and happy.

“Hush, child,” Boss said, waving a hand at him.  

Damian saw red and started thrashing against his restraints. They were all dead.  All of them.  

Not dead dead, of course, but dead.

“Ha,” Drake laughed, “you called him ‘child.’  He hates that.”

“Oh yeah?” Boss asked, “What does he prefer to be called?”

Drake snorted and lulled his head to the side. “He don’t like any nicknames.”  

“Is that so?” Boss looked back at Damian and shot him a sly smile. “So what is his name?”

Damian narrowed his eyes at Red Robin.  He had no idea what that drug was doing to him, but hopefully loosening his lips was not included.  Because if it were… well then.  Maybe they were all dead dead.  

“Demon,” Drake said, grinning wide now.  

“Fuck you, Red,” Robin growled, tugging at his asleep arm.  He couldn’t really feel anything in it, anyway, might as well take advantage of that and force it free of the restraints.

“Tsk tsk,” Red Robin chided, “Batman wouldn’t approve of that language.”

That made the Boss raise an eyebrow, “And what about Batman?”

Red Robin shifted and turned a happy-go-lucky smile toward the Boss.  “What about him?”

“Who is he?”

“Red, stop talking,” Damian hissed.  

In response, the Boss nodded his head to one of the goons, who walked over and lifted Damian off the ground a bit by his hair.  “Shut it, kid.”

“Hey,” Red Robin shouted, “Don’t be mean to my little brother.  Only I get to be mean to him.”

Damian growled as he wiggled his way out of the man’s grasp.  He was not little and they were not brothers!  What the hell was that drug doing.  

Luckily, all his hair stayed on his head when he finally won his freedom.  That would have hurt like a bitch.  As it was, the rough treatment was doing nothing for his headache.

Boss ignored Damian and asked, “So then tell me, who is Batman?”  

Tim bounced his head back and forth and blurted out, “He’s my dad,” in an extremely chipper tone.  Just the sound of it made Damian want to gag.  He really hoped they didn't give him the drug, because he'd rather die than act the way Drake was behaving.

“Who is your dad?” Boss pressed.

Imitating Father’s gravel, Tim said, “Batman,” then fell to his side in a fit of laughter.  

Yes. Die.

“Very amusing. What is Batman’s real name?”

“Batman's real name,” Red Robin repeated, looking over at Damian pleadingly.

“Yes, what is it?” the Boss asked patiently.  

And Damian could tell Tim was actually really struggling to not speak.  Obviously, whatever was going through his system had some sort of truth serum in it.  Something to mess with his dialogue filter and force him to blurt the first thing that came to mind.  That renewed Robin’s determination to break free.  He knew his idiot of a colleague was pretty strong, but if he were at the point of struggling and begging Damian for help, there was no telling how much longer he’d last.

“Oh!” Red shouted, “Did you know that it’s possible to not have a middle name?  And it’s actually really common in some parts of the world?  How weird.”

The thugs exchanged a puzzled look with one another, and Damian used the distraction to his advantage.  Clenching his jaw, he pulled his thumb inside his left fist and squeezed as tight as he could.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the pain to seep out with his breath as the thumb snapped.  Slipping his now broken left hand out from the cuffs silently, he looked around, forming his plan of attack.

“Okay,” Boss said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “Can you tell us what your name is?”

“My name?” Red asked, cocking his head.

“Yes. Your name.”

Tim grinned and said, “It’s Red Robin!  It’s like Robin, but red.  Because I have a red uniform, see?”

The boss was growing impatient, just like Damian, and demanded, “What is your first name?”

At that, Damian sprang to his still bound feet and knocked the goon guarding him out with a well placed kick to the head.  Using the guy’s head as a springboard, he vaulted his way across the room, making quick work of all the idiots.  

He was sick of this stupid interrogation and it took less than a minute to incapacitate all five men.

And no, they were not dead dead.  Damian did make sure, however, that each man would wake up with a headache just as bad as his.

Damian hopped over to where Drake was lying and dragged him up to his knees.  

“Hop hop hop like a bunny,” Tim sang once he was sitting up, and it took a lot of self control for Damian not to just knock the moron back over and make him sit up on his own.

He looked around and found a chain cutter against the wall and cut the chain linking his feet together, then Tim’s chains so he could stand. “Get up, Red.”

“Those guys really like names,” Tim said as he took Damian’s offered hand and stood, “whoa the world is spinny.”

“Yes,” Damian drawled, keeping his not broken hand clasped around Tim’s forearm while he led them out of the warehouse.  He managed to dig around in his belt for his back up comm with his left hand and called for Batman, giving the man a quick synopsis of Drake’s condition.

“ETA four minutes,” Father responded crisply. And wasn't that just perfect.  Damian was going to have to withstand a lecture from Batman because of stupid Drake.  

“I like names, too,” Drake continued, stumbling along behind Robin, “Your name is funny.   We can call you James or Jamie.  Wait.  No.  that’s not right.”

“Silence, Red,” Damian barked, looking around for good cover.  He wanted to get them up a bit higher, but wasn’t sure how feasible that was.  He felt extremely exposed and vulnerable on the ground with a broken hand and high Tim Drake.  In the end, he decided to cross the street and slip into an alley where there were a couple dumpsters that should do a decent job concealing them.

Drake ambled along behind Damian, allowing him to pull him toward the alley.  “Heh.  Red.  Red Robin.  Red Hood.  Redbird.  Red X.  We should be called the red-family.”

“Keep moving, Red,” Damian snapped, annoyed.

“Oh!  We should call you Green Robin to add more colors to the family.  Or Black Robin?  Does that sound racist?  It’s because of all the black on your uniform.  Or Robin Hood!” Tim cut off his ramble to let out a high-pitched giggle, “because you wear a hood.”  

Damian sighed audibly and let go of his idiot of a not-brother to lean back against the wall in the alley.  His head wasn’t hurting as bad as it had been, but the weariness of the injury along with all the aches and pains his captivity had caused were catching up to him.

At least he wasn’t high as a kite like Drake, though.

“Then we’d all match.  I’m Red Robin, Red Hood, and Robin Hood.  We’d all share names.”

“Yes,” Damian drawled, pushing Drake a bit more out of sight, between the two dumpsters, because the moron was in no condition to fight, “very amusing.”

“B would never call us by the right name.  Ever.  It’d be so funny.”

“Tt.” Damian huffed, putting a hand up to his ear, “Batman, what is your location?  Red requires medical attention.”

“Two minutes.  How severe are his injuries?”

“Physically he is intact.  Mentally, however, is another story,” Robin reported, giving the teen a sideways look.

Tim stumbled forward, and without thinking Damian lunged forward to catch him, draping one of Tim’s arms around his shoulders to help support him.  “Would you quit moving?” he snapped, trying to push him back into the gap between the dumpsters.

Giggling again, Tim slumped further onto Damian and wrapped his other arm around.  “You’re my annoying little baby brother.”

“Knock it off, Drake,” Damian growled lowly, trying to free himself from Tim’s grasp.  Punching him while he was in that state would probably be incredibly rude and lecture-worthy.  

But the teenager was insufferable.  

And where the hell was this even coming from?  They were not brothers.  Tim was very clear on that on multiple occasions.  And Damian agreed.  They were not brothers. And yet Drake kept insisting on calling him 'little brother' tonight.  It was infuriating.

Drake was just an imbecile that Father considered a son.  Just like Grayson and Todd.  Grayson was the only acceptable one of the lot, and therefore the only one he would consider a brother.

“I love you anyway,” Drake added, letting go of the child.

“Tt.” The faster Father got there, the better.  He was so done with this annoyingly chipper and chatty Drake with all his stupid words and emotions.

And, as if the powers-that-be could read his thoughts, the Batmobile pulled up.  As Nightwing stepped out of the Batmobile, Tim perked up.  Damian would never admit he, too, was extremely pleased that Grayson had accompanied Father.

“And I love you, too,” Tim shouted, stumbling forward out of Damian’s grasp.

Nightwing cocked his head and looked over at Damian, “Whats wrong with him?”

“He's high.”

At that, Drake grinned wide and said, “I feel like I’m floating in the clouds.”

“Oh….” Grayson said, looking back and forth between the two younger vigilantes, then finished with a lame, “kay then.”

“Just take him back to the cave,” Damian growled as he shoved Drake toward his older brother, “he’s just getting worse and less coherent the longer this is in his system.”

“All of you,” Batman ordered, “get in.”

“I’m fine,” Damian insisted, “I can continue patrolling.”

Nightwing nodded as he gently guided Tim into the Batmobile. “I’ll stay with Robin.  You can handle Red.”

“Little assassin baby needs a hug,” Drake sang, “his hand hurts.”

Betrayal.  That’s what Damian felt.  Utter betrayal.  How did Drake even know that, anyway?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Grayson said, turning his disappointed glare at Damian, “Let me see that hand.”

Damian grumbled a few curses and lifted his left hand for the man to inspect.

Dick whistled.  “Damn.  You’re coming back, too.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, pulling his hand back to himself.  He was fine.  He’d fought with worse. Really, it was his head killing him, anyway.  He barely even noticed the hand.  

But there was no way he was telling them that.

“Nope, get in,” Dick said, dragging Damian along by his cape.  

——

As it turned out, Damian did not have a concussion.  Just a pretty nasty knot on his head.  Father had not been pleased about him concealing a broken hand and a head injury, however, and Damian found himself grounded.

Drake’s fault.  All of it.

But while the initial hour on the drugs had put Drake into a euphoric state, the last several sent him deep into horrible withdrawal symptoms.  He spent the majority of the night expelling anything and everything put into his system, and at some point he even cried from whatever pain the drug was causing.

So Damian figured they were even.  There was no need to kill him.  

This time.

Thankfully, however, in Grayson’s words since Damian didn’t care, the drug did no lasting damage.  Once it worked its way through Tim’s system, he was fine.

Not thankfully, though, part of Damian’s punishment was doing chores for Pennyworth.  So when Tim was finally recovered enough to eat, Damian found himself forced to bring a bowl of soup and pack of crackers to Drake in his bedroom.  Even though he had a freaking cast on his hand.

Smacking the tray down a bit too roughly, Damian snapped a half-hearted, “Pennyworth demanded I bring you this,” before turning on his heels to leave the room as quickly as possible.

“Thanks, Dames,” Tim rasped, sitting up some.

Damian scowled and turned back around, hoping his withering glare would make the teen cry.  “My name is Damian, Drake.”

“And mine’s Tim,” he retorted, “Guess neither of us get our way.”

“Tt,” he pouted, crossing his arms across his chest petulantly.  That was completely different.  Drake could call him ‘Wayne’ and it’d be perfectly acceptable.  Damian was simply using the teenager’s name.  Drake, on the other hand, was purposely mincing his name, knowing it would upset him.  

“Sorry about yesterday,” Drake said, swirling his spoon around in his bowl a bit, “it’s like my filter got turned off…”

Shifting on his feet a bit, Damian said, “Yes you said plenty of asinine things”

Still staring down at his soup, Tim added with a frown, “None of it wasn’t true”

Damian wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he averted his gaze off to the wall above Drake's desk.

And that's when he noticed the dozen of pictures pinned there.  Damian had never actually noticed it before, because he never went into Tim’s room.  He had dozens of pictures on the wall, all of candid pictures of the ‘family.’  And he was mildly surprised to find himself in a lot of the pictures.  

Okay, a bit more the mildly.  Why would he have pictures of Damian up above his desk?  Where he spent a lot of his time?

Maybe...

Maybe Tim did see them as brothers.

Drake slurped a spoonful of his soup before continuing, “I can’t believe you broke your own thumb, though.”

“It’s not like you were in any condition to save us,” Damian snapped, pulling his attention away from the stupid pictures. Who cared whether the teen saw them as brothers.  They weren’t.

“Thanks, Dami.”

“Whatever.  Just don’t get us captured again," he spat, turning back around to exit his brother's room dramatically.

Because it was definitely Drake's fault.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown. org/works/16654726

[arthurs-wife]

Cleopatra - 1/?

tigerlilywine said to arthurs-wife:Hey, been reading your drabbles. I think you capture Arthur real well. M!reader and all. You've ever thought of a... future au? They are still cowboys but they jump to worlds instead of areas. Bounty hunters in space. Reader is royalty of one alien species (close to humans) and gets kiddnapped. King hires the gang to save em? (Fluff is a must but smut is optional, though I'm sure you can work it!) It is an idea tho lol keep doing what you're doing!

A/N: because i’m extra as hell, i wrote a ton of lore for this and wanted to throw this up to see if theres interest because I can go on and on with this future shit.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x M!Reader Words: 1.7k Summary: Working for the agency of Lemoyne Department of Defense Services in the year 2149, Arthur Morgan and his gang struggle to complete as many jobs as they can before the Terran Bureaucracy can dissolve it completely. With the promise of one final, multi-million dollar job, Arthur Morgan is sent on a mission to rescue the kidnapped hybrid child of Tavantis’ human King and angel Ruler, going head to head with the Bureaucracy itself. 

If Arthur could change one thing about this bureaucratic hellscape it would be the Jump Queues.

Ten minutes to get to the damn thing, twenty minutes in the queue, another ten while the nice pre-Mars lady checked your license and asked about you and how’s that nice boy doing? What was his name?

“Lenny, ma’am,” Arthur said, hand over his eyes.

“When is he going to come back up here and visit me?” she tittered. The sounds of a mechanic keyboard could be heard in the background, painfully slow.

“Whenever I can rip him from his computer,” Arthur shrugged, staring blankly out of the cockpit’s windshield.

“And where are you heading today, Mister Morgan?” she asked.

“Chantakor,” he read from his console, “the Tavantis continent.”

Another five minutes to punch that unfortunate name in.

“Three jumps,” she declared, “the credits will be taken from your account.”

Arthur grumbled.

“You’re good to go Mister Morgan, jump safe!”

“I will, ma’am,” Arthur promised and sat up straighter as the portal ahead of him turned bright hot-purple and his engines were taken out of lock.

He cut the comms channel and another message came through immediately, buzzing in his ear like it couldn’t wait another five god damn minutes.

“Arthur?” Hosea blared through, “are you there yet?”

“Yep,” he said, pushing up on the throttle and sending his LASO into the portal. The comms cut out, but that was to be expected when you jumped through space beyond light speed.

First jump through and Hosea was back, Arthur turned his ship to face the next portal.

“You said you were there,” Hosea deadpanned.

“And I lied,” Arthur shrugged, speeding up, “you better get to your point before the next one.”

“I just wanted to s-”

Second jump and Arthur blasts through.

“You know Arthur, you’re a real piece of sh-”

Third jump and thank goodness, any more and Arthur’s head would be spinning.

“I’m at Chantakor now, Hosea,” Arthur said, powering down his drives and folding out the secondary wings.

He had never been to Chantakor before, partially due to its royal status in the Galactic System and damn was it a fine sight to behold.

Arthur leaned forward to peer out of his windshield at the whirlwind of activity near the main gate, thousands of LASOs, Chantakorian ships that dwarfed even the largest transport LASO. Humans were good at many things but apparently not at making decent ships. The Chantakorian transports gleamed in the light of the binary suns, making them shimmer like waves.

He almost missed his stop, the heavily guarded gate above the Tavantis continent that would lead him directly to the King’s quarters.

“Are you done being an asshole?” Hosea clips in. Arthur can just hear his arms crossing.

“Yes I’m done,” he said, fiddling with knobs and allowing the Chantakor fields to pull him in carefully.

“Alright listen,” Hosea started, “the King is expecting you any minute now. All you have to do is get in there, get his information on where his child is, and get the hell out of there.”

“His-” Arthur did a double take at nothing, his LASO stopping at the zero-G gate, “his what now?”

“I probably should have mentioned this is a kidnapping bounty,” Hosea said apologetically.

“Who’s the asshole now, Hosea?” Arthur blurted, tapping on his console. Apparently long queues were universal.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, son,” he said, “but it’s a lot of money and you’re our best.”

Arthur grumbled again.

“I will be getting the largest cut of this,” Arthur pointed threateningly at the comms, “and I will be taking the longest vacation afterwards.”

“Whatever you need to do, Arthur,” Hosea said, “but we need this. This job could get most of our systems back online.”

Yes, yes, the fabled systems Lenny and Karen had been working on since… forever it seemed. Arthur was ushered into the planet’s atmosphere and he banked down, heading to the private landing zone of the King himself. He couldn’t muster up any amazement.

He hit a button and the LASO unfolded its wheels as it touched the ground lightly and rolled along the tarmac towards the stupidly ornate building he assumed belonged to the King.

The angels were never a race that Arthur had been acquainted with either. The angels had a proper race name, but they had been dubbed so by the god-fearing human race due to their strikingly similar features to biblical angels. They were tall, gender neutral, majestic pillars that humanity had no business dealing with but dealt with anyway.

The LASO came to a stop in a hangar and Arthur powered it down, clambering out of the seat with some difficulty and opening the hatch. Chantakor was temperate and mild, almost a boring sort of weather if Arthur wasn’t used to the dramatic patterns of Earth.

He was met by two seven foot tall angels who ushered him to the main gate and the halls within the King’s palace. At this distance he could make out more features of the angels, they were all some variance of blue or green or grey, they had feathers all over them, and great big feathery wings that folded up neatly behind them. Their legs were like bird’s legs without all the scales and they were covered in feathers too.

They mumbled something in their native tongue, which sounded like trills and whistles, occasionally glancing back at Arthur. They reached a set of silver doors and turned to face him.

“You’ll see our Ruler now,” the taller one said, their great blackish-purple wings bustling behind them. Arthur held up a thumb to show he was ready to go, in true human fashion.

Also in true human fashion, the angel rolled their eyes and opened the set of doors, letting him in the room. All of the ceilings were cathedral style, towering up over them at almost 20 feet tall. It looked like the angels were just as fond of showmanship as humans were, as the entire room was festooned with colorful curtains and lights. In the far center was who Arthur assumed was the Ruler.

They stood a whopping eight feet tall, taller than any being had ever stood in front of Arthur, and they were bright. Their wings were massive and unfurled to their full extent, shining gold and green like old bronze in the sun. Eyes set wide in a dark face, they blinked several times and scrutinized the dirty man in their throne room.

“Howdy,” Arthur said unceremoniously.

“Are you Arthur Morgan?” they said in the same clipped accent, settling back in on their nest.

“Yes, uh, your Grace.”

“Thalia will do.”

“What’s this about a kidnapping I hear?” Arthur said, supremely indifferent to the angels and their customs.

“My kin has been taken,” Thalia mused with a face so indifferent that Arthur wondered if they actually cared or not, “and my world has shattered.” Of course they cared, Arthur, what’s wrong with you?

“When did this happen?”

“Twenty cycles ago,” they answered.

Arthur counted on his fingers for a moment to add it up.

“Alright so a couple nights ago,” he said, bringing out his comms pad and typing something in, “any ideas at all about who may have taken them?”

“I think my partner may have more information than I,” Thalia turned back and whistled something in their native tongue. The door behind them opened and a tired looking human man strode through and noticed Arthur. As he got closer he extended his hand and Arthur took it.

“I assume you’re the man here about my son?” he asked and Arthur nodded. It was the first time he had heard someone refer to an angel with a pronoun. Then a whole other set of questions popped up in his head. As if he read his mind, the King nodded and waved a hand, gesturing for Arthur to come sit with him.

“Are you familiar with the Llinovan?” he asked and Arthur sat down with him, thinking on it for a moment before realizing the Llinovan were the angels’ proper species name. He shook his head. “When humans first met the Llinovan many years ago there was an initial power struggle. Since then we have lived in harmony, myself and my wife included.”

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes,” the King nodded, “it means my son is part angel and part human.”

Arthur thought about the implications of this.

“You mean to tell me,” he started, “that humans and angels can have kids?”

“Yes,” the man replied, “and it’s not just us. There are thousands of hybrids now, all in hiding. Since they’ve grown in numbers, the human ambassadors on Chantakor have noticed, and they don’t approve.”

“I can imagine.”

“That’s who has taken my son,” the King sighed, looking straight at Arthur.

“I’m not,” Arthur stuttered, holding up a hand, “I can’t go toe to toe with the Terran Bureaucracy, that’s suicide.”

“Even with such a handsome reward?”

“Hosea never told me how much.”

“60 million credits.”

“God damn!” Arthur blurted out before hushing himself quickly. Several of the angels and the Ruler had turned to look at him. The King finally let out a little smile.

“It is my understanding that your community needs the credits,” he went on, “I intend on rewarding anyone who challenges the strong arm of the Terran Bureaucracy for what they’ve done to the human race.

Arthur thought a moment, mulling over the state of Earth, the constant rebuilding of the communities, the lush paradise of Amazonia that only the richest could afford to step foot onto.

“Alright,” Arthur nodded finally, “alright, where can I find these people?”

“The higher ups won’t have gotten their hands dirty with this,” the King said, standing up, “they’ll have sent their versions of bounty hunters to claim him and take him to another world. My guess is Niston, just a jump away.”

“I’ll get right to it then,” Arthur nodded and stood up with him, moving towards the door.

“And Mister Morgan,” the King called after him, “I’m very sorry to hear about LDDS, they have done very good work for us in the past and I’m angry to see them go.”

“Yeah, me too,” Arthur grumbled and tried not to think about it.

[wanderer-of-sol]

Wanderer of Sol - Business Chapter 1

Here’s a little taste of a novel I’ve been working on in my spare time.

Chapter1

Wanderer had found himself on this table a dozen or more times before. It was dark as pitch, but he could feel the cold stainless steel work surface chill his back and fingertips through the haze of general anesthetics. Muttered and muddied words struggled to meet his ears, wading through the fog of his mind, and blackness of his vision. No amount of effort would allow him to open his eyes, or feel his face. A buzzing, burrowing sound rattled in his skull, chattering his teeth against the plastic tapping of a breathing tube invading his throat and lungs. Time passed at a trickle, and Wanderer lost track of the sounds and sensations violating his unmoving shell. Suddenly a stitch of light poured in through the darkness, in one eye. Pixels and artifacts flashed before him. It was like dreaming of meaningless text and menus as they floated into his consciousness. Nothing was in focus, not even his mind. He could hear the pulsing of life monitoring equipment and the muttering sharpened into words.

“That should do it. Let's get the other one out and replaced, then we'll work on removing the first arm. The other teams are backed up with limb enhancement, so we might as well lend them a hand, so to speak.” The voice let out a quiet half-laugh, but was calm and cold as it echoed. It had done this a dozen or more times before.

A moment later a distant frantic chirping could be heard, like a cat had snatched a sparrow from the air. Then another was caught much closer.

“Doctor, something's wrong with the anesthetic machine. The gas levels are dropping rapidly. There may be a leak!” Came another voice, as Wanderer was greeted with pounding soreness.

“Well, find the leak and replace the tank, asap! You know how hard it is to keep these things sedated!” The voice barked, as if trying to scare away the cats. It began to lose it's cool and calm tone as more and more machines started to chirp their warning alarms all around Wanderer.

As he regained feeling to his face and control over his eyes, sight came back, fuzzy in one eye. The other eye's vision was obscured with invisible shapes, and text flash by as it displayed “Initial setup” in his mind. Above him floated a familiar visage, in the reflective focusing plate of the operation light. Thin cuts bled lightly around his right eye. A portion of his light brown hair was removed, in preparation for who knew what. The only clues were the black marker on his lightly tanned skin, directing where and how to cut to the uncaring voices that scrambled around him. His beard was much longer and messier than he had remembered it being. That somehow made sense to him, as he felt like he had been sleeping for so long before waking up where he was.

The chirping grew louder and more frantic as the voices in the room, separated by curtains hanging from the ceiling and lightly muffled by medical face masks, grew louder and more frantic in turn. All attention on him was lost as he pulled the tube from his throat with a cough. Sitting on the edge of what felt like a mortuary's examination table, Wanderer's gaze drifted to what he felt was the center of the room. Something drew him there as the separating curtains started to shift and billow towards him. The only warning of what came next was the sudden flying bodies of doctors, nurses and those they worked on, along with the tables they rested on and tools used on them. They came in a wave as Wanderer's own table was lifted and thrown in turn. He sailed through the air with scalpels and bone saws as his vision was taken up by the rapidly approaching floor.

With a start, Wanderer jumped awake. It had happened like this a dozen or more times before.

“What the fuck's your problem, Wanderer?” Came a familiar voice. Wanderer's eyes focused much faster than they had for him moments ago. The girl sitting beside him was colorful in the way of a poisonous animal, but also foreboding like a raven. Her hair, or what remained of it, was trimmed into a mohawk with a blade of blue, violet and deep red down the center, and short black scruff on the sides. Her eyes were a piercing brown that burned a hole into Wanderer. Her ripped and torn clothes were stitched together to compensate for the scars of many bar brawls, dirty jobs gone poorly, and questionable fashion choices. Even in the year 2422, punk was alive and well in this woman.

“I'm fine, Munin. Just that fuckin' dream again.” Wanderer explained, rubbing his face with both hands, in attempts to brush off the grog left by his nap.

“Great. So I guess we'll be turning around and scheduling a trip for Venus soon?” She seemed annoyed to say the least.

“No, I'm good. We've got places to be and deadlines to make. I just need some coffee. Where are we?” Wanderer replied, stretching his arms in the cramped pilot's cabin. There was an audible pop and a sigh somewhere between relief and pain.

“Like, ten minutes from entering Martian atmosphere. Maybe half an hour from Sulci Gordii Port. I already called in docking with Olympus Mons air traffic while you slacked off.” The evidence of her annoyance was beginning to become clear. Wanderer didn't realized how long he had been out.

“I can take us down, if you want.” He rationed, attempting to get on her good side, but she wasn't having that.

“Nope. Go get yourself some brew. You're useless to me as a captain if you're fuckin' falling asleep.” She wasn't even looking at him any more. Her eyes were on her screen and her hands were finding the switches needed to adjust shields for entry, and line up her orbit to get them where they needed to be. “And call Gomez once you can string together a sentence without yawning. We don't have the funds to sit around in port an extra hour waiting for him to bring the fuckin' goods to the dock.” She added, before switching on the comms and confirming her landing request. Wanderer was always amazed at her ability to sound like a cold hard bitch when talking to him, but a decently sweet thing when chatting to the girl on air traffic control.

Wanderer found his way to the common area with one final yawn and discovered what looked like the coffee maker scattered out in parts across the kitchen table. Above it stood his other crew mate, with a screwdriver in one hand and a crystal pendulum draped in the other. All he could do was ask, “Ah, Robin? What's up with all this?” as his mind was still waking up.

“Oh, hey man. Uh. Well, he wasn't feeling well, so I decided to preform surgery while you were sleeping. I didn't expect it to take this long, but I dropped a screw and it rolled into the vents so I had to take apart the grav-pads on the floor to find it. And when I did, some other screws floated away. Long story short, we're about to find the source of this guy's upset tummy and I'll slap him back together in no time.” She explained while dangling the pendulum over the exploded layout of heating coils and PCB boards. To any normal person she would appear insane, but Wanderer had been traveling with Robin for a couple years now, and she was an expert in things he only had a cursory understanding in. And for Wanderer to only have a  cursory understanding in anything of the sort was rare.

“Well, that's good. Anyway, did you make a fresh pot before starting the operation?” He inquired, while wondering if there was any instant left. Or maybe tea. He wasn't picky at this point in time.

“Um, that probably would have been a good idea. Here, you can finish mine if you want.” She said, before putting the screwdriver in her teeth like a pirate holding a dagger, picking up her half drank mug and tapping it down in front of Wanderer. “Ah ha!” she let out, half muffled by the screwdriver as she took it back to her hand. The pendulum's cord pulled tight, contradicting the suggestions given by gravity, pointing directly what Robin diagnosed as a damaged connection leading to the heating coil. “Just found the problem. If you want to wait fifteen I'll have him back together and brewing a new pot.” The goggles she dawned for the surgery amplified the size and brilliance of her blue-green eyes, before she flipped down the tinted welding lenses. It's strap around the back of her head bunched her hair into random tufts of light brown. To be honest, at the moment she looked a little like a mad scientist standing over the Frankenstein's monster of a kitchen appliance.

“Thanks, I'll take yours. I've got to call Gomez in a minute.” Wanderer responded, picking up her mug and walking towards his room, away from the small flying sparks and wafting smoke.

Sipping the coffee gave him a sudden jolt of energy and clarity. It was cold and about half as sweet as he'd like, but it had a certain kick only someone like him could put their finger on. He took another sip, and swirled the remaining shallow cloud of heavily creamed coffee, revealing a peculiar set of lines at the bottom of the mug. Probably the remnants of some artificial sweetening gel, like synthesized syrup or molasses. Time to call Gomez.

“Yeah, hi. This is Jon Dillir. I spoke to you about a shipment.” The voice of “Gomez” on the other line must not have minded that Wanderer was using an alias. Dealing in such rare and potentially dangerous things often prompted Wanderer to take names like Jon, or Bill. The fact that no one knew his name could always be a boon to Wanderer. The fact that he, himself, didn't know his real name was rarely anything more than an inconvenience, even if the question did hold a weight in his mind.

“Yeah, we'll be docking shortly, and we're in a bit of a rush, so... Yeah, of course I have goods to trade as well as credits. Yeah, untraceable. You know me Gomez. We're both professionals here. I'll see you at dock thirteen in a few minutes. We'll deal in my cargo bay away from prying eyes... No I don't mind if you bring some guys. Mi casa es tu casa, Gomez.” Wanderer said as he hung up. Gomez was being a pain in the ass. The few times they had done business before had gone smoothly, if not a little tense. Gomez was new to the trade, but brought decent items to the table. Why Gomez would want to bring some extra muscle onto Wanderer's ship was unclear, but Wanderer had done business under worse stress and peril.

Chapter 2 here

[eyeofthewolfe]

Ninjago Movie: We Could Be Superheroes!

For my great friend, @yuki7900 who is full of so much love and talent! Here's a little fanfic for you!

Lightning snapped, fire roared, water soared, ice crackled, and the warehouse shook with powerful quakes. It may seem like it was the end of the world, but it was actually the opposite. It was Thursday, which was Lloyd's least favorite training day of the week. He didn't mind his job of encouragement, but watching his entire team use amazing and supernatural abilities while he watched is not something he enjoyed doing. Kai has been working on flying using his fire ability to spit fire from his hands and feet to keep him in the air. Jay has mastered throwing lighting, so now he was trying to bend it to create weapons. The best he's gotten so far was a lightning whip. Nya could move water as easy as it is to move her fingers, so now she teaching herself how to add or take water from any living thing. She was wilting and growing tulips. Zane started to make it snow inside the warehouse. Cole didn't have to slam his fist down or together to make huge vibrations, he worked it up to just focusing his mind on an object. Lloyd was sitting in a chair sitting in reverse with his chin squashed on his arms. "Good job," Lloyd droned for the third time that training day, but none of the other ninja heard him. Instead, they were excitedly giggling and sharing their newest developments to each other. It was as if Lloyd wasn't even there. With a yawn, he stretched his arms and ran his hands through his hair. He wanted to teach something, use some words of wisdom like Master Wu. But they seemed like they were using their powers really well, experts even. What were they not doing that they could be better at? Lloyd's eyes dragged from his superpowered friends to their weapons leaning against the wall, forgotten in all the excitement. With a snap, he felt something click. With a screech, he scooted out of the chair and got up. "Hey, guys-" Lloyd started, but a yell made him duck. A wave of fire rushed over his head. "Sorry dude!" Kai yelled from a few feet above him as he rebalanced himself in the air. "I lost control for a sec." Lloyd tightened his jaw, then nodded back. He turned to the others. "Alright everyone, time for a lesson." The ninja all slowly stopped using their powers and turned to Lloyd. They didn't complain, but they all didn't look happy about Lloyd interrupting them from their personal 'training'. "Alright," Lloyd repeated while rubbing his hands together. "Y'all are going fantastic with your elemental powers. I want to take this to the next level." His team all exchanged excited looks. Relief rushed over Lloyd. At least they were excited. "Go grab your weapons." They didn't even flinch. Their excited looks instantly vanished. Nya furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Wait...what?" She snapped. "Have you not been seeing what we've been doing for this whole afternoon?" Kai spoke in an aggravated tone. "We don't even need our weapons anymore! We've got superpowers!" "Elemental powers!" Lloyd snapped back. He could not believe that Kai had just said that. "And you have these Elemental powers to help you, but your weapon is your best friend. You need your weapon more than you need your powers." A few of his friends snorted at him and looked away. "That's crazy, Lloyd." Jay said as he rolled his eyes. "Our powers are part of us, and a weapon is the extension of our abilities." "Look," Lloyd rubbed his face. "Just, grab your weapons." Nya took a step forward. "And I'm telling you, we don't need them!" Lloyd felt his blood run cold. He narrowed his eyes at the team. "What did you say?"

Zane looked a little confused, but the others seemed as confident as Nya. Cole took a step forward to stand by the girl. "Lloyd, we don't need to be ninjas any more. We can be something greater now." "And what do you suppose that is?" The Green Ninja spoke coldly. Kai took his step forward. "Superheroes!" Lloyd took a deep breath. The others stared at him for a moment, waiting for his response. Finally Lloyd took a weakened step backwards. "I can't believe you just said that," he muttered to himself but loud enough for his team to hear. "Master Wu took us in and trained us in the ninja way, and as soon as you all unlock your Elemental Powers you throw all that away?" "Lloyd, we know how to fight, and we have these powers," Jay started as he too stepped forward. "I think we all would prefer to be superheroes rather than just ninja." Lloyd made a short gasp in his throat. "Just ninja? JUST NINJA? Ninja fight for honor! They fight for family!" "So do superheroes!" Nya interrupted. "But ninja are more honorable than any hero!" Lloyd shouted back. "It means more to be a ninja master than just a hero!" The others all looked at their feet, all but Nya. She instead shook her head. "Why does it matter to you, anyways? You couldn't understand." It was as if her spear had gone straight through Lloyd's heart. His anger vanished only to be replaced with shock. Did Nya just....say that? "Come on, lets go fight crime as superheroes." Nya shrugged to the team and they all slowly turned away from Lloyd to the door of the warehouse. Lloyd wanted to say something-he needed to say something, but he couldn't find the right words. Maybe Nya was right-he couldn't understand. He may be the Master of Life, but he couldn't do the things the others did. Maybe it was better if they were a team of superheroes. As the team vanished around the corner, Lloyd shook his head. He was crazy! They had to be ninjas, they were THE ninja! There had to be a piece missing in all of this. "I've gotta train some more," Lloyd grumbled to himself as he walked briskly over to the wall and snatched his sword off the ground. "These suits are so tight," Kai complained as he pulled at the upper thigh part of his costume. "Can't we just wear our ninja suits until we get actual super suits?" "We are superheroes now, not ninjas." Nya stated plainly as she fixed the party-store mask over her eyes. "Well get better suits later." Jay looked at the team. "We look stupid." As they all looked around, they realized he was right. Their neon-colored costumes were meant as cheap Halloween gear, and not professional crime fighting garb. Cole let out a defeated sigh.

"Maybe we should go back. Lloyd did have a point-" "We haven't even gone out yet to fight crime!" Kai snorted. "Maybe using our powers to kick butt will-" The wail of a siren broke out in the city. Crackles of gunshots were heard a few blocks up. The new super team all exchanged excited looks and they all dashed along the rooftops to danger. They came up to a shootout on the street. Six criminals were hiding behind cars and letting loose their pistols at cops a few yards away. "We aren't bulletproof," Jay hissed to the team, but Nya narrowed her eyes. "We got this! Split up and take them out one by one!" "Like a ninja?" Zane asked. "No-" Nya blinked, trying to think past what Zane was implying. "Like a superhero! Ready?" She extended her hand. They all followed Nya's lead and stuck their hands out and said, "Superhero-Go!" "That sounded so stupid," Cole chuckled under his breath as they all split up. Kai silently landed behind one of the criminals laughing and spraying bullets over the hood of a car. Cracking his knuckles, he cleared his throat. The criminal stopped shooting and slowly turned around before staring the teenager in spandex down. "Who the heck are you supposed to be?" He snorted. Kai smirked past his fear. "I'm....uh..." Kai realized he hadn't picked a name yet. He narrowed his eyes trying to think of a good name. "Uh...Flame...Welder..." The criminal paused before bursting into hysterical laughter. "What are you gonna do? Weld something for me?" Kai's smile was gone. "Okay, jokes over," he grumbled as he stuck his hand out, summoning his fire ability. Nothing happened. Not even one spark curled off his fingers. "What the..." Kai muttered as he looked at his hand. He tried focusing on his Elemental power, but nothing happened.

"Well, Fire Welder," the criminal rose his gun and aimed it right at Kai's head. "I bet you wish you had some sick moves to escape this!" The gun went off, but Kai was already in the air above him. With an expert flip, he came down hard on the criminal, wrapping his right leg around the crooks head and his left around his body. With a quick twist of Kai's hips, he turned the criminal in the decent and he slammed his face on the pavement. By the time he shook off the pain, both the superhero and his gun were gone. "Guys, my powers don't work," Kai spoke in the comms as he climbed to a rooftop. "Something's wrong." "Same here," Nya responded. "I'm with Cole and Zane. We can't seem to use our Elemental powers right now." Jay flipped up to where Kai was. He fixed his glittery cape with a few choice words, but then hit his comms. "What's going on? I can't even summon a spark!" "That's because you're doing it wrong." Nya, Cole, and Zane climbed onto the roof with Kai and Jay just in time to hear the familiar voice on the comms. They all turned to the silhouette of a ninja on a few roofs over. "Lloyd?" they all said together. The teenage ninja flipped over the rooftops until he landed delicately in from of them. He slipped his sword on his back before looking his team over. "You all look ridiculous," he finally said. "We feel ridiculous," Jay disclosed. "Why aren't our Elemental powers working?" Nya snapped. "Well-" Lloyd began, but a shout interrupted them. "There! The fruit colored superheroes!"

The team looked down to see the cops unconscious and the group of criminals pointing their guns up at the teenagers. "Crap!" Cole yelled as they all dove to cover. Gunshots began to spray on the shutters. "We need to attack all at once!" Nya hissed to the team. "Our powers must be activated with teamwork." Lloyd sat up, clutching his head. "Wait-" His team were already lunging off the roof. "Seriously...." he grumbled. He unsheathed his sword and dashed after them. As soon as the superheroes hit the pavement, the criminals had them surrounded, with their guns all pointed at the colorful teenagers. "You all really are that dumb!" one criminal cackled. "They aren't working!" Kai hissed. "What now?" Nya's eyes were wide with shock. "I...don't know!" "You're right!" Everyone looked up as the Green Ninja landed amidst the superheroes. However, he wasn't talking to his friends. Instead, he pointed his sword at the criminal who had spoken. "They really are that dumb." The criminal gasped and looked over at his buddies excitedly. "Did you hear that? The Green Ninja actually agreed with me!" "Shut up, Harry!" another criminal hissed. "Just shoot them!" The other ninja all drew together in fear, but Lloyd narrowed his eyes. Nobody saw, but his green eyes began to glow brighter than ever.

The criminals reached for the trigger, but Lloyd was too fast. With a swish of his sword, one gun was torn from a crook's grasp and was sent into the air. He did a cartwheel in the air without using his hands and used his back leg to knock him to the ground. "Shoot at him!" the crook bellowed. They began to fire at the ninja, but his sword was too quick. Deflecting every bullet, he high kicked one criminal and used the butt of his sword to knock out another. Hearing a shot, he backflipped over the speeding piece of metal before bringing his legs down on the fourth crook. "Darnit!" the main crook spat before turning his gun towards his friends. There was a tug in Lloyd's stomach, something he's never felt before. In a daring move, Lloyd flipped in front of his friends just as the fun began to fire rounds towards the superheroes. To everyone's shock, there was a flash of green energy that surrounded Lloyd and his team. The costumed superheroes dropped each of their jaws. It took Lloyd a long second to realize that the green energy was birthing from his own hands. His entire body was pulsing with energy, making him even more aware of his surrounding than ever before. His sight was sharpened, and he had the feeling that he could do anything. "What the," the crook muttered as the bullets dropped to the ground as soon as they hit the green force field. The other criminal made some panicked gasping sounds before turning on his heels and running as fast as he could away. Lloyd narrowed his eyes and willed the energy to surge forward, knocking the main crook onto his back and the second on his front. With a swishing sound, the green light was sucked away until it was just a small spark. Lloyd's knees buckled, but Nya and Kai were there as he fell. They grabbed his shoulders to hold him up. Cole and Jay lunged towards the fallen crooks and kicked their guns away. As Lloyd slowly regained his strength, more cops arrived and cuffed each gunman. After thanking the oddly dressed heroes ("We are actually not superheroes," Cole had told them), they took Lloyd to a nearby rooftop. "How...did you do that?" Nya asked Lloyd. He looked up at her. "The Master of Life...." he began before chuckling. "That's not who I am. I'm fact, I don't think there is a Master of Life."

Lloyd smiled, as if he knew something everyone else didn't. "That's because I got the word wrong. Green wasn't for life...it was for energy. I am the Master of Energy." "But you didn't have Elemental Powers," Nya stated. "Ah," Lloyd nodded as he slowly stood. "And yet when you all went to fight crime, you didn't have yours either." They all exchanged looks. "That's because your powers aren't just gifts you have at your disposal," Lloyd began. "They are abilities you earned through hard work, patience, and determination. All tools of a-" "A ninja master," they all said in unison. "We aren't acting like ninjas when using our abilities, so they don't work." Nya put two and two together. "But...you've been a ninja master along with all of us. Why didn't you unlock your powers earlier?" Lloyd looked off to the outline of the city. "I never tried. I was never told that I had abilities, so I never sought out to unlock them. It unlocked itself just now. I must of been ready for it." "Well, it was awesome!" Jay said giddily. "You were a true Elemental Master!" "And..." Nya looked down at her shiny feet. "...we were not. I'm sorry Lloyd, we should have never of said all that mean stuff to you." Lloyd walked over and rested his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Nya, I understand." She looked up and met Lloyd's soft green eyes. She gave him a very small smile before looking back down. Lloyd looked at his teams outfits one last time before gesturing them to follow him. "Alright team, let's get your suits back on before Master Wu sees you all. After that, Master Wu might have you all wear that for a week!"

[rurounidrift]

July 19 Blurr’s Horror Stream - Night of the Living Dead

What happened at this stream? I don’t know. It was over a week ago. I’m not gonna reread the log.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. The chat room has been cleared by the moderator. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((*prods livestream. you gonna work now u punk?*)) B l u r r: / yes hello , he is here. With a brand new finial and patch. Nice and ugly again/ Whirl: *oho, look at him, early for once. He's gonna savor this* Whirl: Yo, Teach. *pauses to look him over critically* You're looking significantly less beat-up that last week. B l u r r: Mm.. Ratchet fixed me up. B l u r r: /taps his finial / Made it better than before. Whirl: *interesting choice of music, Blurr* Whirl: *bobs his head and clambers up to assume his rightful place* B l u r r: / it's the best / Star: /shows up. tadah/ B l u r r: We've landed for supplies. / flexes claws / B l u r r: So try to remain on the ship. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Y'know that picture of the dog peeking around the door Whirl uses? That's Soundwave right now. He's scanning for Ratchets.* B l u r r: / There are no Ratchets here / B l u r r: / hisses at Star as he walks by to set up snacks / Whirl: *simply swivels his helm to watch Starscream* Bevel: *trundles in* Star: /is to tired to deal with anyone/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Cautious entry in, every step hesitant, like he's ready to bolt again. The twins are glued to his sides.* Bevel: [[i get so let down every time that song plays and doesn't immediately segue into my shot B l u r r: [[ LOL ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *All right. Nothing appearing out of the shadows to leap on them. He'll send them off - but in a beeline for the hammock, and nowhere else.* B l u r r: [[ same ]] B l u r r: [[ but it on shuffle ]] Wing: *he really is too tired to deal with much of anything tonight but here he be* B l u r r: [[ tonight is in honor of Romero. RAISE A GLASS. ]] Bevel: [[shuffle is a blessing and a curse, especially when you listen to musicals B l u r r: [[ Truth ]] Whirl: *takes his attention away to bob his head in greeting at Bevel* Yo, shovel. B l u r r: / waves claws at Bevel and Wing ! / Whirl: *and, of course, he will make room for the twins as well* Bevel: [[raise a glass to to freedo--zombie B l u r r: [[ freedom zombies ]] B l u r r: [[ free the zombies ]] Bevel: Hey, Whirl. Hi, Blurr. :] Drift: *vaults over the back of a couch to land by Blurr* Hey! B l u r r: / flicks finials  / Hey. Whirl: What's up, chumps? Wing: *small wave back. wall gargoyle time. he's exhausted* Bevel: *will find her usual seat* Star: /is settled in the back, get nice and comfy and dozing off already/ B l u r r: You seem excited. / to Drift / B l u r r: / glancing at his claws. Shifts a little / Drift: Just full of healing light and positive energy. Wing: *and by Star he goes. poor mech. looks how he feels* Whirl: *returns to curving his neck around like some horrid bird, staring at Starscream* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Nothin'. How's the movie last week? Fish lady get home?// Whirl: Yep. Eded up taking the octopus with her, too. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\WHAT FOR? FOOD?\\ Whirl: Companionship, presumably. Bevel: Friendship. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\PFFFT. LAME.\\ Bevel: I liked it. Whirl: *shrugs and finally returns his attentions to the twins and Bevel* Decent enough, if you like fish, I guess. B l u r r: Ah... energy. Sounds nice. Bevel: It was nice that Dory got home and stuff too. *nods* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Eh. Fish's more the Boss' thing. Octopus 'n all that.// Bevel: Tarantulus is gonna show us some soon. Whirl: Some... fish? Star: /has his optics shut off, so he's just relaxing/ Bevel: Octopuses and squids and stuff. Ones that change colors and light up. B l u r r: Anyway, I've been busy. Er... We. We have a heading. B l u r r: Just needed to stop by and gather supplies. LORDStarscream: *guess who's just marked himself in* Whirl: Oh. Huh. You know, I believe it. If anyone could get their hands on weird exotic organics, it'd be him. B l u r r: Which is what Dart and NOS are doing. LORDStarscream: **marched Whirl: WHOAH, Teach. Teach, hold it. LORDStarscream: **dammit he blew his big entrance with a typo* Whirl: May not wanna give away your secrets with our enemies in the room with us. B l u r r: ... Hnnh? I didn't say where I was going. Whirl: Yeah, even so. Drift: ... Comm it. *wants to know where Blurr's going* B l u r r: Oh, yes, good. Wing: *soft vent8 B l u r r: Are you mechs ready? I just got this new upgrade. Whirl: Oh for the love of--ANOTHER one? Whirl: Blurr, if you drop dead, I'm going to carve "I told you so" on your damn grave. B l u r r: @D @ W @ Bevel : :: We're heading to another universe to access an ancient temple that I found on a grid map! :: Bevel: Hi, Lord Starscream *grins* B l u r r: / welcome to group calling. With secured lines / B l u r r: / And CLEAR quality calls. / Whirl: *if this was like a phone group chat wihirl would immediately spam with emojis* B l u r r: Oh, come on, Ratchet insisted. Drift: @Bl @W @Be «... Did you get a new comm?» *yeah he's messaging the whole group* LORDStarscream: "Another"? Why, do I have an alternate already here? *glances around* Whirl: *he actually seems a little surprised to be included--surprised, but not displeased* @Group: What, like, freelance archaeology or something? Whirl: Ratchet's an idiot, then. Wing: *he doesn't know this Starscream but he's sticking next to the one he knows* B l u r r: @B @ W @ Be: ::Yes, a new comm. It's very complex and connected. Ah? It's more like there's a treasure beneath it. :: Bevel: @Group - What kind of temple? Is it Cybertronian or something else? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave heard the word Ratchet. He's on high alert again, scanning the room* Whirl: @Group: So, freelance Indiana Jones style archaeology. Got it. LORDStarscream: *nvm that though, there's a Bevel here. nods in greeting* Hello, Bevel. Do you have room for a visitor to sit down? B l u r r: @Group: :: Sure, why not? It's not Cybertronian, per say, but it might be. :: Star: /greets Wing with a nod before pulling out a data pad/ Whirl: @Group: Hey check this out. 🐸 Drift: @Group: «🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸» Bevel: @Group: How did you do that? Drift: @Group «I'm just copying Whirl's.» Bevel: *makes some room, she will be Starscream's movie buddy and body guard tonight yep* B l u r r: @Group: :: You're flooding my optic with this? :: Bevel: @Group - 🐸🐸🐸 Whirl: @Group: 🐸🐸Praise Heqet🐸🐸 Whirl: @Group: Blurr, this is the cost of you doing things that I advised you against. Accept it. B l u r r: @ Group: :: I can end the call, I made it first. :: Drift: @Group «🐸 What 🐸 did 🐸 he 🐸 do?🐸» Wing: *little smile back at Star. he could just as easily be reading off that datapad, but he'll look away* B l u r r: @ Group : :: Nevermind. :: /ENDS CALL / Bevel: *giggles* B l u r r: /scratches finial and flickers optic. Flicks finial and shakes helm/ Hnnh. Whirl: *snickers* Drift: ... Ribbit. B l u r r: / shoves claw in his face/ Shush. Drift: Pbbbt. Whirl: @Blurr; Anyway, read you loud and clear. No idea if I'll have anything to do with all that, or where I'll be, but I'll keep it in mind. LORDStarscream: *good. he'll take that body guard. as supremely, unflinchingly confident as he's pretending to be, he's very nervous being outside Cybertron's anti-Unicron barrier.* B l u r r: @ W: :: Works for me. :: B l u r r: @W: :: If we need help, we'll comm you. :: B l u r r: [[ whos ready? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((me)) Drift: ((ready)) LORDStarscream: *... not that a bodyguard would do anything if unicron flew up and ate the ship, but it helps his comfort levels.* B l u r r: / flicks finial and shifts up/ ... I have visitors. Star: /doesn't have anything on the pad excpt things dinocos are begging for/ Whirl: ((me!)) Star: (ready) ItsyBitsySpyers: *If Unicron flies up to eat the ship, Soundwave is finding a way to drag Starscream, Bevel, the twins, and Whirl with him.* Bevel: *she'll die first, that's... something?* Whirl: *he simply nods in acknowledgement* Yeah. Unfortunately, you forgot to spray for Starscreams. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Like, off the ship.* B l u r r: Well, I can SEE that. Whirl: You've got an infestation. B l u r r: My poor single optic. It burns. LORDStarscream: *starscream is flattered, if confused that he made the list* B l u r r: / snickers / Bevel: *or get saved via deus ex soundwave* Whirl: *SAVE YOURSELF SOUNDWAVE HE'LL HOLD UNICRON BACK* Whirl: *he's always wanted to fight a god* ItsyBitsySpyers: *...You know what, he'd believe Whirl could. And anyway, Bevel would be sad if Starscream got eaten and he doesn't want the headache of Kaon finding a new leader.* Wing: *he'll ignore that. it's not worth it* ItsyBitsySpyers: *But none of this much matters, because he isn't thinking of Unicron. He's nervously watching the room, plating pulled in so tight he looks even thinner than usual.* LORDStarscream: *he'll count that as soundwave's vote in support of starscream's leadership* B l u r r: / stretches arms up/ This Earth is so quiet. Whirl: ((god dammit i played myself. now that song's stuck in my head)) B l u r r: [[ kay imma set up so gimme a second ]] LORDStarscream: *jolts* We're on Earth?! Bevel: Different Earth. B l u r r: For the moment. B l u r r: A pretty much dead one, at that. Bevel: *probably not a Unicron Earth... maybe. she didn't check* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh Primus. A zombie movie. He hates zombie movies.* LORDStarscream: ............ *NERVOUS LAUGH* Wing: ((***. yes.)) Bevel: *...pats Starscream's arm comfortingly?* B l u r r: I don't even think there are Autobots alive in this verse anymore. Aside from Jazz. Whirl: *black and white? You have his attention* B l u r r: Who I dropped off. B l u r r: Unharmed. Someone ought to give me a metal. Whirl: *he perks up like a ferret that just saw something it liked for a moment& LORDStarscream: @Bevel «You are aware of what's IN Earth, aren't you?» Whirl: Oh. I've not seen this one. Wing: *this is different* Star: (I'm surprised this hotel internet im using is letting me watch this) Bevel: @Starscream - Unicron, yeah. But I do not think he is in this one. Other universes are funny like that. LORDStarscream: @Bevel «Does it vary? You're certain he's not here?» B l u r r: I like this one. It's nice and old. B l u r r: / pulls out a tin of snacks. Willing to share with Drift. / B l u r r: / special snacks / Whirl: The 60s was a good time for movies. Whirl: You've gotta make it to Culture Club... sometime. If we have it. B l u r r: Ah? Maybe. Whirl: *he started that statement without thinking about how that statement had to end, good job him* Drift: ... You can still have it. Whirl: *shrugs* Depends. LORDStarscream: *glances at movie* ... I've seen this one before. Bevel: @Starscream - It does! I can double check if you want but I am pretty sure. B l u r r: You can always have it here on The Emperor. Bevel: Culture Club? Whirl: That might work. Whirl: And, a while back me and some other mecha decided to start having it. We'd pick movies. Rotate them. LORDStarscream: No... part of it. I've seen part of it. Up to where they're stuck in the house. Bevel: Aw that sounds fun. Whirl: Yeah, it was pretty cool, actually. LORDStarscream: Knock Out showed it. It was excruciatingly boring. B l u r r: Well, if you want to use the Emperor, you only need to comm me. Whirl: *bobs his head* Gotcha. B l u r r: We're gathering supplies for the night and then we're taking off in the morning. B l u r r: Humans aren't patrolling, so we're not as on edge. B l u r r: I mean, they are, but for some reason, they weren't around this area. B l u r r: Might have been an Autobot hideout or something. LORDStarscream: @Bevel «I'd appreciate if you did. For your own safety, of course.» Star: /is actually pretty in to the movie/

Missed some.

Whirl: She's pretty useless, isn't she? Bevel: *thinking about how she's going to make sure Unicron isn't the center of this planet* B l u r r: well, I bite the hardest Whirl: I believe it. I've seen you have a snack attack. Obviously, MY biting days are over. B l u r r: I'll bite double just for you LORDStarscream: *ah—there he is. a bright smile and a wave to catch the other Starscream's attention.* Alternate. Star: /pretty smart zombies/ Sides: [ skates in on his wheelie feet and skids into the doorway ] The frag- I thought this ship was empty. Star: /notices the other Starscream and give him a small wave and smile/ B l u r r: / nudges Drift / Hey, what do you call three Starscreams in a room? LORDStarscream: Always a pleasure to meet another of myself. LORDStarscream: Particularly such a... sturdy looking one. Drift: *mutters* Grounds for cancelling an event. B l u r r: / huge, sharp tooth grin / NNo no. Whirl: *chimes in* A plague? B l u r r: /grabs Drift's arm/ A herd of Screamers. They're like geese. Drift: Breakfast, lunch, and dinner? B l u r r: They just make annoying honking noises. Whirl: PFFT. B l u r r: / Makes a disgusted face/ No, I don't eat junk food. Star: Its quite interesting to see an alternate of myself as well. Star: /smiles/ Ah, sturdy I am. B l u r r: But how interesting! /twists around/ I didn't think the infamous anger bomb of the autobots was still alive! B l u r r: / rubs claws together / Now /Sideswipe/ there is a decent meal. LORDStarscream: I wouldn't have expected to see one at an Autobot's event. Not /friends,/ are you? Sides: ... I'm disgusted on so many levels. Whirl: *calls over* He's DEFINITELY no friend of ours. Whirl: He's an enemy. Actively. I have no idea why Blurr's letting him squat here. B l u r r: Not a friend of mine either Sunstreaker: /skates in right after Sides and just tackles him/ SIDES!! I can't believe you're here! Who's- Oh, Blurr... B l u r r: He's not squatting here. Squatting means he's living here- B l u r r: ... /OH GRINS WIDER / Bevel: He can be my friend. *so defensive of all this Starscream hate* B l u r r: A double meal?! /stars getting up / If it isn't the TWINS in one precious spot! Wing: *eying Blurr* LORDStarscream: *well, the mystery intensifies. why IS his alternate here, then?* Whirl: Bevel, if you ally with that Starscream--*gestures to the SGScream* The one who's threatening Blurr, then you can count yourself an enemy, as well. LORDStarscream: *a pleased smirk for Bevel.* Making you one of the few here with good taste. Sunstreaker: /sqints at Blurr/ What are you doing back on Earth? Whirl: I don't got a beef with YOUR Starscream. Aside from the baseline levels, y'know. Sides: [ tenses upand almost punches Sunstreaker ] ... Sunny? I thought you died. Sides: Huh... the more you know. LORDStarscream: ... Threate—? You're— *points at his alternate* —threatening him? *points at the purple Blurr* B l u r r: /I'm/ here getting supplies. with your precious Prime gone, there's no guardian of the planet. B l u r r: And as for Starscream, Starscream, he's just as obnoxious, if not as full of himself as Starscream. Sunstreaker: /scoffs/ Yeah well, we're still here. You lookin' for a fight now? Star: Of course I am /sarcasm/ B l u r r: Not right now, Sunflower. Maybe later. Wing: I thought we weren't fighting. B l u r r: / circling him / I sure missed you two. How cute... still together. Whirl: Do you see me, sitting here? Being calm and cool as a cucumber? This is my not fighting. LORDStarscream: Well, if there's another side to the story, alternate, I would far prefer to hear YOURS over THEIRS. Whirl: O'm not shooting, or stting anything on fire, or ripping off body parts with my claws, or ANYTHING fun. I'm being GOOD. Wing: I didn't mean that for you. B l u r r: K-KYAHAHAHA!! Of course you'll side with Starscream. B l u r r: Everyone wants to hear the /innocent/ party's story. Don't they? Whirl: Well, even so, let the record show I'm being good. Sunstreaker: /lightly pushes at Sideswipe, just keeping an eye on Blurr/ Yeah well, we all got split up... B l u r r: I know. I've had Jazz for a while Wing: I'm proud of you for that. *he means it. and he's still eying Blurr* Star: I'd rather not talk about it now. Or else everyone will get more hostile then they are now. And I'd rather not. Sunstreaker: Wait, why do you have Jazz? LORDStarscream: *this might be the first time starscream's ever heard the "Starscream" and "innocent party" used to refer to the same person.* B l u r r: Babysitting. B l u r r: Baiting Prime. B l u r r: /flops down next to Drift again / Butterbuns changed their nickname to King Starscream. Sides: [ shoves Sunny aside a bit . Grumbles. ] Sunstreaker: ... I don't think he's coming back, your bait isn't gonna work. Whirl: She is so incredibly irritating. LORDStarscream: *turns back to the movie long enough to sneer at it. why do humans have to sound so annoying.* B l u r r: Oh? Then I guess the All spark is mine. B l u r r: /leans against Drift and snickers/ King Starscream: (( 8O is this night of the living dead?)) Wing: ((the good one)) Whirl: ((IT IS!)) Star: (LMAO) King Starscream: ((eeey! I've seen this once before! 8D Sunstreaker: He's still Jazz. You should give him back to us. Whirl: She's just dragging him down. Star: (im sorry im laughing that he hit her back...) LORDStarscream: Hmm. It would be far easier to take your side if I knew what it was, alternate. But, I suppose I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Wing: ((hey man, if you start ***...)) Wing: ((she was going a little cray anyway)) B l u r r: Back to you? B l u r r: You, the twins who fight over who is better? B l u r r: [[ zombie screaming. The best caption ]] Star: /looks/ As nice as support is, I rather not get you inovled unnecessarily. Star: (lol) Whirl: I wonder why they're scared of fire? LORDStarscream: I don't need to get involved to offer support. Sunstreaker: Better than your 'Autobots,' killing each other for fun. B l u r r: We don't do that anymore Whirl: It's much more fun to kill Decepticons, anyway. Star: Its quite alright. Sides: [ tugs Sunny's arm to go sit by... that lanky soundwave. He sems safer. Just gonna. Sit on a couch over in this area ] LORDStarscream: *... killing each other for f...? squints at blurr. then at his own alternate. hmmm.* B l u r r: ... /smirks/ Need something? LORDStarscream: Not a thing. B l u r r: I should hope not. Sunstreaker: ... Either way, Jazz isn't your toy. We'll come get him with the others. /follows Sideswipe for now/ Sunstreaker: Sides, you okay? LORDStarscream: @Bevel «Is this one of those... ember universes?» B l u r r: / flexes claws/ Oh go ahead and come get me, you shiny metal twit. King Starscream: *BOOM BABY it's another starscream* King Starscream: *Blurr should fumigate* B l u r r: / SNARLS / Wing: *Primus help him* B l u r r: How irritating... B l u r r: The urge to commit murder is so high... /bouncing a leg. Fidget. / Wing: You can still tell them to leave. Bevel: @Starscream - It is, yeah. Whirl: It's your ship, Teach. All you gotta do is give the word, and it's open season. Sides: ... I'm good. [ looking over Sunny ] Where were you? Who'd you run with? Whirl: *click-clicks his claws* Why not treat yourself? B l u r r: Oooh, I don't think treating myself now is a good idea. /bounce bounce bounce leg / King Starscream: I just thought I'd see what choice entertainment was available for tonight. LORDStarscream: @Bevel «Hm. Explains a lot.» Whirl: I think it sounds like a GREAT idea. Whirl: *HE;S TRYING HIS DAMNEDEST TO ENABLE YOU* B l u r r: / sir u r enabling / Star: /is too into the movie. its rather interesting/ Wing: *Primus help the lot of you if you make him draw swords* LORDStarscream: Alternate! Emperor Perpetua, wasn't it? Bevel: *giggles* Wing: Here I was proud of you a moment ago. Sunstreaker: /shrugs/ I ran with Blaster and some others. No idea where they are now, we got attaked. Whirl: Me? Wing: You. I take it you were ignoring me. Whirl: I thought you were talking to someone else. Sides: Same with us... [shrugs a shoulder ] Star: /Wants to know how that fire is dying down so quickly/ Whirl: But, I mean, it's all the same, what the hell do I care what some NAIL thinks of me? *manages a haighty look, even with his lack of face* Sunstreaker: /looks at Sides and frowns/ Who were you with? B l u r r: I told you to call people by their names... Wing: I never said you cared. I just assumed you were ignoring me. Whirl: I was referring to your so-called pride. Sides: [ huffs] 'Raj. We cloaked for a while with Ratchet, but we lost him. Sides: By the time we found out where he went, it was... you know. too late. King Starscream: Indeed, and it is good to see you again. Wing: It was honest, if short lived. LORDStarscream: A pleasure. Whirl: ((he's fantastic)) B l u r r: If they were a three course meal, which one would be the appetizer... King Starscream: *gonna sit near the other Starscreams* LORDStarscream: *the starscreams are separate. but THIS starscream is cooler.* Sunstreaker: Yeah, we heard about Ratchet... What about Mirage? Is he around? Sides: [ makes a face. Rattles plating a little too loud. ] King Starscream: *the COOL starscream, then* Sides: [ shakes helm ] Gone, too. Bevel: *feeling a litle too purple of this Starscream party over here* Sunstreaker: ... I'm sorry. /reaches over and pats Sides' shoulder/ Sorry I wasn't there to help. Star: /is the smartest Starscream/ LORDStarscream: *excuse u* Sides: [ HUFFS. Just settles in the couch ] I don't think we woulda won. They outnumbered us. Sides: Ran solo for a while. Ran into some other mechs. You know. Same old. Drift: I hope he gets eaten. B l u r r: SAme. Whirl: Same. B l u r r: / smirks/ B l u r r: /chomps down a snack/ Whirl: They should work together--keep the kid down there. The cellar could be a useful fallback of last resort. Drift: Yeah, that's what the people upstairs were suggesting. Whirl: *nods* B l u r r: I mean, places that have only one entrance are usually safer. Drift: The kid's going to wake up dead and start eating people. B l u r r: No one can sneak up on you. Sunstreaker: At least things seem alright in here. For now. /shoots Blurr a look/ King Starscream: The cellar is a pit. It's the most defensible location but the hardest to escape. Sides: ... For now. [huffs and slouches ] LORDStarscream: I'd prefer a dozen escape routes to a defensible death trap, myself. Star: /pokes Wing/ Whirl: Useful if you're a coward. Whirl: I'd rather fight than retreat. Wing: *okay you have his attention* Hm? King Starscream: Well Whirl, we all know that with our luck you'd be the sole survivor. B l u r r: Right, and none of you would make it. Whirl: Hey, what can I say? I'm hard to kill. B l u r r: All the Starscreams would be trying to use the other as a shield. K-Kyeheheheheh. Star: /Doesn't really have much to say he really just wanted to poke Wing../ B l u r r: / snickering and pops another snack in his mouth / Whirl: *SNRK* Star: /frowns at Blurr/ ... Wing: *fair enough. little smile* King Starscream: Oh please. Less useful mechs are the natural choices if we're talking shields. LORDStarscream: Naturally. B l u r r: But each of you thinks everyone not you is less. Star: /is tapping his finger on his seat in irritation/ King Starscream: Bingo. B l u r r: Why do humans continue to reproduce? the kids are always an issue. Sides: [ hold up. Gonna get up, go get snacks and come back. He's starving] King Starscream: Reincarnation. They posses the bodies of the young to continue living. B l u r r: I'm... pretty sure that'snot what reincarnation is. LORDStarscream: *snorts* King Starscream: Well do you have a better theory? B l u r r: For children? B l u r r: Yes. It's called stupidity and improper planning. Whirl: Well, Teach, I imagine they wanna reproduce for the same reason we do. Bevel: *laughs* Wing: It ensures the survival of their species... Something we can't do. B l u r r: Hnh. King Starscream: Wow. King Starscream: Amazing job. Whirl: PFFT. Star: /is shaking his head at the movie/ Whirl: Damn. If he makes it out of there--not bad. Not bad. B l u r r: Right? Drift: About time! B l u r r: Finally. Whirl: Hey, they got barbeque. B l u r r: Mmm. B l u r r: / squirms/  Makes me hungry. Drift: *... same tbh* Whirl: Yech. I'll pass. B l u r r: / hold out tin of snacks to Drift / Star: (So i sorta missed it. How did truck on fire?) B l u r r: / They're cannibal snack packs / Sunstreaker: ... This is disgustin' Whirl: Not big on solid food, myself. Wing: ((the younger guy was an idiot and dropped the torch)) Star: (Ahh, ty) King Starscream: ((he dropped the tourch and then spilled gas all over it from the pump and neatly set the truck on fire Whirl: *streeetches out and sprawls all over the hammock* B l u r r: Honestly, I just want that guy to live. The smart one. Whirl: Blurr, don't you dare do tis to me when I die. B l u r r: Turn you into a zombie or harvest your internals? Whirl: Ravage has dibs. Star: /shudders/ Ugh... Whirl: Eat me. Sides: ... It's kinda cool. Sort of. [eating snacks ] B l u r r: I won't eat you. B l u r r: Besides, Piston really wants to keep you Whirl: Honestly, you can just throw me in the garbage. ...just make sure Piston doesn't get my remains. Whirl: NO B l u r r: Kyeheheheh. Whirl: I will come back to life and pop your head off like a cork. And his. Drift: Radiation. Huh. B l u r r: K-Kyehheheh. Drift: A lot more simple than the usual plots. B l u r r: Radiation? B l u r r: It B l u r r: seems less complicated than describing a false disease. Whirl: ((beat em off eh) Drift: ((*eyebrow waggle*)) Whirl: I like his strategy. Whirl: If we can find 'em, we can kill 'em. Elegant. Simple. B l u r r: secure. Drift: ((isn't it 3 a.m.? that was clearly daytime in the background.)) King Starscream: ((very bright lights Wing: ((this movie was made in like the 60's or sommat)) B l u r r: ... Wow. B l u r r: Definitely should have klled that guy a while ago. Whirl: Yeah. Drift: Mhmm. B l u r r: There you go! Whirl: He's more dangerous than the damn zombies. B l u r r: Most living people are Whirl: ...but now he's gonna re-animate, ain't he? Sides: [ optics glued to screen. He's so invested ] B l u r r: Shoulda double tapped. Wing: *something about that makes him snrt* Drift: Is he going to eat his child. B l u r r: Is she going to eat him? B l u r r: K-KYAHAHA!! Wing: ((the sound effects during this scene I *** LOVE IT)) B l u r r: These zombies are so smart... they use weapons. B l u r r: Eugh, our zombies use weapons, too. Whirl: ((ME 2)) B l u r r: It's obnoxious. B l u r r: [[ omg SAME ]] Wing: ((I want this as a ringtone can you *** imagine)) Whirl: ((man trying to imagine how shocking this movie must've been, ICONIC)) Drift: ((way better than more Hysterical Female Shrieks would've been)) B l u r r: people were so terrified man ]] Wing: ((dude they were. people were throwing up and running from the theater the first time they showed Alien)) Star: Well then... Whirl: ((horror is so damn neat. Fear is so fascinating!!)) B l u r r: [[ it is! ]] Whirl: Uh oh. Bevel: [[there's a quote on wikipedia about how ppl were shocked into silence and small children were just sobbing quietly mid-movie Whirl: She's about to pull a Blurr. Whirl: Snack attack! B l u r r: Kyeheheheh. B l u r r: I'm so honored. Drift: ((why would u bring a small child to a movie called "night of the LIVING DEAD")) Whirl: ((IKR??)) B l u r r: [[ CAUSE PARENT ARE DUMB ]] B l u r r: [[ I've seen people take their kids to see the Purge. ]] B l u r r: Dude, you're wasting ammo. Wing: ((they also took kids to Deadpool when it first came out because HEY IT WAS ADVERTISED AS A ROMANCE NEVER MIND THE RATING)) Star: /And he went to the basement anyway/ B l u r r: [[ UGH YEAH ]] Drift: Save a bullet for the other one. Bevel: [[there wasn't really a rating system at the time so kids could just buy their own tickets as well and ppl were expecting it to not be this gorey and dark Whirl: Yeah. You're gonna need at least two. Whirl: (*(man i love this sound too)) Whirl: ((something about those weird 60s/70s noises, they're so oddly chilling))

Missed some.

Star: ... B l u r r: That's more than I can say for most horror films these days King Starscream: The undead aren't speaking. How hard was it to yell 'hey!'. Whirl: Not bad. It was clumsy in a lot of ways, but this is clearly older. Bevel: Bad. Wing: ((the end credits used to freak me out)) Whirl: *spins his rotors, imitating the prompts on screen* Whirl: *really just succeeds in sort of pushing his hamock back. Time to rock* B l u r r: [[ the end credits scared a lot of people when it came out, i think. ]] B l u r r: se they look so realistic ]] B l u r r: *cause ]] Wing: ((nah, it was the music for me)) Whirl: Not bad, Teach. Whirl: We should spend more time with the classics. B l u r r: We should. Bevel: Bad ending. B l u r r: I don't know it's better than most. B l u r r: /looks at Drift/ Whatcha think? King Starscream: Well the rest of the humans lived, so they seem pretty satisfied. Bevel: *likes her scary movies with happy endings* Whirl: *swivels his helm towards Bevel* @B: Hey. Bevel: @W - Yeah? Drift: ... Still getting tired of horror movies that end with a last-minute twist that screws over the main characters. Whirl: @B: I'm assuming you were being defensive of the Starscream next to you. And not the one at the back who's trying to get Blurr killed. Am I right? B l u r r: Well, this was a little better than the last one. Right? Drift: *glares around the room like he's daring somebody to start slag with him about it this week.* Whirl: Yeah. I mean, it's realistic--life'll screw you over every damn chance it gets--but it's not interesting. Or creative. Drift: Yeah. At least it wasn't global extinction. B l u r r: /pokes Drift's cheek/ Drift: *pokes back!* B l u r r: Look for that positive, you walking motivational poster. B l u r r: /smirks and pokes again/ King Starscream: ...are there horror movies that DONT end with the main characters getting screwed over? Drift: Pff—! B l u r r: The Babadook! King Starscream: I thought it was part of the genre. B l u r r: / immediate excitement / B l u r r: They even learn to live with themonster! Bevel: @W - Of course! Lord Starscream is my friend. He helped beat Megatron and end the war. B l u r r: / bright optic. So excited / LORDStarscream: They usually end with the last surviving stragglers stumbling into a secure military base. Whirl: *bobs his head* @B: All right. Good. Hey, anyone who beats up Megatron can't be so bad. ........don't you dare tell him I said that. Bevel: *he can also fly and do cool tricks but she thinks Whirl might not find this very impressive* LORDStarscream: ... Based on the ones Knock Out shows, at least. Bevel: @W - Promise. Whirl: *Whirl is satisfied; he actually kind of likes Bevel. He'd hate to have had to re-catergorize her as "foe"* Whirl: *it's very difficult to impress Whirl in the air, but Starscream is welcome to try* Bevel: *she likes not being a foe yeah* Wing: ((oh my god it actually is Derezzed)) King Starscream: ((eeeeey! Whirl: *he bobs his helm again, cordially; all is once again well* Star: (I love this song) Whirl: I liked that one with the guy in the wall. Whirl: That ended on a happy note. He got to stay in the wall, and they killed the psychiatrist. LORDStarscream: At least this movie explains where Knock Out got the ridiculous idea that the reanimated dead can be taken out with head shots. Star: That movie was rather interesting B l u r r: Oh, yes. Starscream knows /ALL/ about that. B l u r r: don't you, Starscream? /sneers over the back of the couch / King Starscream: ...So how DO you kill the reanimated dead? Bevel: [[oh geez the first slam in this song scared me Wing: *carefully stretches his wings to full and back again* Whirl: Tear them into little pieces. Bevel: Fire. Whirl: Or--burn 'em up. Melt em. Star: /theres like three of them here/ B l u r r: / starscream knows who he's talking to B( / LORDStarscream: Take out the spark. Sides: [ snort ] Sides: Cut 'em up LORDStarscream: Or—ember, I suppose it would be here. LORDStarscream: Although the pieces have an annoying habit of becoming /independently/ animated. LORDStarscream: Smelting is a good idea, so long as your smelter isn't connected to anything that might become infected and animated itself. B l u r r: Smelting pits are such a blessing. Sides: Never had a problem with enemies resurrecting. When I start scrap, I finish it. Whirl: All right. *streeetches again* I gotta get back to packin'. Whirl: Catch ya next week, Teach, if all goes well. B l u r r: / waves claw at Whirl / King Starscream: Independantly animated. B l u r r: I'll comm you if I need your help. King Starscream: *note to self: prevents undead outbreak* Whirl: *hops out of his hammock and bobs his head goodbye to Bevel* Bevel: Hot water stops space barnacles but the bots they infect are not dead so I do not think they count as zombies. Bevel: *waves to Whirl* Whirl: Yeah. You ever called about the other thing. I figured you must have handled it. Whirl: *FREEZES mid-stride* Wait, what about space barnacles? LORDStarscream: Independently animated, yes. As in I have seen an arm fall off an undead mech and start running around and attacking people on its own. B l u r r: ... Oh, no, I didn't B l u r r: Woops. B l u r r: I'll comm you. Bevel: Space barnacles do not like heat. Hot water works really well on them. King Starscream: ..I feel like I should be asking why you are all experts on this. B l u r r: Well, in my universe, we have zombies. King Starscream: *tilts head at Bevel* We haven't been introduced, have we. Whirl: *shrugs at Blurr* LORDStarscream: Have you not had the misfortune of encountering dark energon? Sides: KSI bots are pretty much zombies. Whirl: Why are we talking about hem like they're zombies? Is that a thing? Whirl: Mine's always been pretty well-behaved. Except for when it tries to eat me. B l u r r: ... /perks up / Oooh, what's /dark/ energon? What's that do? B l u r r: / twitches claw / I bet it's valuable. Whirl: Bad shi t, Teach. Whirl: Turns you into an Empty. King Starscream: No. Only a Dark Universe, and /that/ was more than enough. King Starscream: *he'd rather forget all of that* Bevel: It is in some universes, yeah. They take over a bot and make them all shambly and evil. B l u r r: Oh, well, we have those naturally. Whirl: Don't. If you start dealin' in that, you'll never see MY sorry hide again. LORDStarscream: The blood of Unicron. /Literal/, believe it or not. Whirl: Really? Huh. Bevel: *oh hey other Starscream* I do not think we have. My name is Bevel. B l u r r: Oh, the unicorn thing again... / rolls optic / B l u r r: We don't have that thing here. Whirl: Killer's never done that. B l u r r: well, not HERe, but in my verse. Sunstreaker: /snorts/ I saw a KSI with Brawl's face, they really are like zombies Whirl: But it did dismember someone, once. It was hilarious. LORDStarscream: Stab it into a corpse and it behaves much as the dead humans in this movie. They rise from the dead, blindly attack anyone they see, and spread the infection to their victims—bots and machinery alike. Sides: They are. All they do is wander. B l u r r: .....They do? B l u r r: / leans forward with a grin/ The mech has to be dead, though, right? B l u r r: / twitches claws/ Sounds interesting... Sunstreaker: Yeah, I don't think they even have sparks King Starscream: *he met one (1) new person today!* Sides: They have a power core. Sunstreaker: ((lol if my Sideways was here he'd be so offended by this)) Sides: Ripped it out once. Star: (cya later. too sleepy to do much) Sides: ( gnight! ) Wing: ((niight)) LORDStarscream: Stab a LIVE mech and they are briefly blessed with enhanced strength and a limited ability to control the undead beasts—but in exchange, that person can be controlled and possessed by Unicron himself. Bevel: *she met another Starscream today ey* Whirl: *shoots Blurr one last, exasperated look, but just shakes his head and turns to go* B l u r r: / waves at Whirl! / B l u r r: sounds boring. I'd rather stab it into something dead. B l u r r: / smirks/ Something very big. And dead. Wing: *this whole conversation is darkening his optics* Whirl: *from the doorway* Not kidding, Teach. LORDStarscream: Do so and IT'S set up to be Unicron's tool as well. Whirl: Do it, and it's curtains. B l u r r: Okay, Whirl! I got it. I'm just hypothetically speaking. B l u r r: Ratchet would never let me. LORDStarscream: These things have no intelligence and no loyalty. They can and WILL turn against their creators in spectacular fashion. Whirl: Yeah, well, I don't exactly trust you to make good decisions. Considering. B l u r r: / shrugs/ Sounds like home to me. B l u r r: / snorts at Whirl/ Fair enough. But, I yield. I won't. B l u r r: You're more valuable than that. King Starscream: ..I should call you later for more details on this. Sides: This sounds like a royal mess. [leans back to watch ] LORDStarscream: PLUS using it leads to damnation to everlasting torment after death, if the short-term consequences aren't bad enough. Sides: Much better than what I've been doing. Whirl: *regards Blurr with a half-lidded optic* Flattery won't get you anywhere. But hat's good enough. B l u r r: / smirks at whirl / B l u r r: / thumbs up / King Starscream: For now I must be going. The company was better than the movie. Whirl: *bobs his head one last time and goes* King Starscream: *nods to Starscream and Bevel* Until next time. B l u r r: I wouldn't be interested in anything unless it makes me faster. Bevel: Night, Starscream. LORDStarscream: Until next time, alternate. B l u r r: / shrugs and leans back/ Sounds like that weird energon won't helpwith that. Wing: *just quiet in thought* Bevel: There are better weird energons anyway. B l u r r: Yeah? Like what? LORDStarscream: *... faster, huh. blurr has starscream's attention.* Sides: I can't believe Jazz lives on this scrap wagon... B l u r r: This thing I stole from Thundertron increases my speed twice over. LORDStarscream: And what would be willing to trade for something that could make you faster? B l u r r: But I can always go faster- hn? Bevel: The bad synth-en does not make you a zombie or a slave to Unicron. B l u r r: Trade? Hnnh. Depends. I'm not a fan of being ripped off. Bevel: *it does make you a drugged fueled rage roider but details* LORDStarscream: A fuel that makes you so fast, it appears that time has ground to a stop around you. Sunstreaker: /shrugs at Sides/ Pretty sure he's just buying time until Prime gets back. IF he comes back B l u r r: ... Ah... /twitches entire frame. Flex claws/ B l u r r: Depends on what you'd want. We pirates can get anything. LORDStarscream: My Decepticons have a healthy cache of such a substance... although we don't just hand it out for free. Sides: ... What if he doesn't come back? [looks at Sunny ] Who's leading ? B l u r r: Depends on what you'd want. Sunstreaker: Nobody I guess... Sides: ... Huh. [frowns ] Sides: Guess there's no one to lead anyway. No wonder he took off. Sides: Surprised he ditched Jazz, though. LORDStarscream: Oh, the usual—weapons, armor, rare artifacts of great power... B l u r r: ... I have an All Spark. B l u r r: / smirks/ Oh, but he's not for sale. Wing: *that gets his attention* B l u r r: I'm sure I could find /something/ in the various verses. B l u r r: There's always someone to steal from. LORDStarscream: Then don't waste my time with things that aren't for sale. B l u r r: I have plenty of weapons and armor, but it's not something that I would hand over to you. You're liable to back stab me. B l u r r: And my back has enough scars. Sunstreaker: Maybe he didn't know? He took off pretty fast LORDStarscream: Pf! Please. What would I stand to gain? Sides: I don't know. Jazz never tried to contact any of us. And if he's here, he's not even comin for us. He probably ditched, too. LORDStarscream: My focus is on Cybertron and its restoration. Not screwing over petty pirate crews. B l u r r: We're not /petty/ Sunstreaker: Jazz wouldn't do that, he would have said something. ... Right? LORDStarscream: The security on this ship is so lax, a mech who's trying to kill you was able to walk in and take a seat. LORDStarscream: It's not exactly the most tightly-run ship, is it? Sides: Would he? [scoffs and just crosses arms. ] He's just like everyone else. Hiding for himself. B l u r r: / twitches claws/ It IS tightly run. B l u r r: Starscream can TRY to kill me all he wants, but he'll never succeed. B l u r r: He's not a threat to me. LORDStarscream: Mhmm. Sunstreaker: I dunno... Maybe. Remember his history. B l u r r: Oh, but you'll fan your precious alternate. Someone has to. Sides: Well, I hope he doesn't come back. Sides: He's no help. LORDStarscream: Funny. That's what most of my kills thought too. B l u r r: I'm not that easy to kill. Or intimidate. Sunstreaker: I guess. /huffs/ Should we stay here? I don't like the looks of most of these mechs... Especially the obvious one. Sides: [ scowls and just shrugs ] I don't care. LORDStarscream: The ability to feel intimidated is the ability to recognize a naked threat. I'm not impressed by its deficit. Sides: It doesn't matter where we stay. Someone's always trying to kill us. LORDStarscream: *stands* But fine. Let me know if you find something useful. Perhaps a trade can be arranged. B l u r r: Regardless of the little brain game you want to play. B l u r r: It's about a trade, not an alliance. LORDStarscream: *disgusted look* Who said anything about an ALLIANCE? Eugh. B l u r r: I'll let you know what I can steal. I travel plenty of verses. I'm sure there's something you don't have. B l u r r: Like tact. Sunstreaker: Guess that's true. LORDStarscream: *snorts* I save that for people who have impressed me. Bevel: *well that could have gone better* B l u r r: I don't need to impress you. /crosses arms/ B l u r r: Like I said, if I find something, I'll offer the trade. B l u r r: I'm always willing to go faster than everyone else. Sides: [glances at Sunny ] If you wanna stay on Earth, the stay there. Sides: You'reprobably gonna look for Blaster anyway, right? LORDStarscream: Then you don't need my tact. LORDStarscream: Fine. *ping.* You have my comm. B l u r r: Are we striking a deal or not? The next thing I find is yours. B l u r r: But I want double the amount. Sunstreaker: ... I do yeah, but I don't want us to get separated again. LORDStarscream: I don't want the next thing you find. I want the first thing you find that I consider interesting. LORDStarscream: Find something interesting, tell me what it is, I'll tell you if I want it, then we can haggle over the price. B l u r r: / snerk/ Fine. Sides: [ huffs] I guess. Wing: *watching Sides and Sunstreaker* If I may? Sides: [ rolls shoulder and cracks neck armor ]  Huh? Sunstreaker: Hm? B l u r r: If I find it interesting enough, I'm willing to pay routinely for it. Wing: I apologize for eavesdropping, but if you need a place to stay safely, I can offer one. All I ask is peace while you are there. LORDStarscream: Then I'll await your comm. B l u r r: Oh, don't worry. It won't take me long. B l u r r: I'm pretty swift. Sunstreaker: /squints at Wing/ ... Full offense, we've got no idea who you are. Sides: ... I probably shouldn't be near people at all. Wing: *he nods* I understand. I don't know you either. I don't expect you to accept. My name is Wing. Sides: Sideswipe. [ motions to Sunny ] My brother. B l u r r: Honestly... / vents and flops back on the couch/ I'm sure I can find something... /tapping chinplate / B l u r r: Bit dangerous, but that makes it more valuable. Sunstreaker: /small hand wave at Wing/ Wing: *he nods to them* If you should change your mind, please let me know. Again, all I ask is peace while you stay. LORDStarscream: Hm. We'll see. Sunstreaker: Heh, can't make a promise on that. Thaks for the offer. B l u r r: Yes, we will. When it comes to speed, I am incredibly serious LORDStarscream: I meant about the /value/ of what you find. B l u r r: That' what I'm saying.  What I give you won't be a waste of your time. LORDStarscream: Now, if we're quite done exchanging clever quips, my army needs me. B l u r r: ... / he misses that. Ah well. Shrugs / You have my comm. /pings/ I have yours. I'll contact you. Sides: We'll keep it in mind... [ nods] LORDStarscream: *nods to Bevel.* A pleasure, as always. Wing: *he waves at that* No need. It's about time anyway. Bevel: Good night, Lord Starscream. B l u r r: / flicks claws / LORDStarscream: Good night. *heads for the door.* B l u r r: / the idea of something making him faster is so tempting / Bevel: *should go herself, it's getting late and others have been filtering out for a while now* B l u r r: / bounce bounce leg / LORDStarscream: ... *stops at the doorway. turns.* Blurr. B l u r r: Hnnh? Sunstreaker: /nudges Sides/ We should go, there's a place nearby we can hideout. LORDStarscream: Keep Bevel safe. B l u r r: ... My crew will always be safe. So long as I'm here. LORDStarscream: Good. Sides: ... [ rubs helm ] I don't know, Sunny. Bevel: *grins* Sides: I /really/ shouldn't be around people. Sunstreaker: It's alright, I'm kinda the only one there... LORDStarscream: *doesn't have anything else to add to that, he supposes. turns again and leaves.* B l u r r: / looks at Bevel / I will. B l u r r: You guys are safe with me. Bevel: And I will keep you safe too. Bevel: *nods* Drift: ((and i forgot what i was doing with drift, if anything, so. *skedaddles*)) Bevel: [[night B l u r r: ... I haven't heard that one in a while. Sides: Yeah, but- I mean, yeah. Bevel: Really? Wing: *why is he still here he needs to go he's too tired* B l u r r: Eh, Drift says it sometimes and so do a few rare others, but. No one has said that to me in a while. B l u r r: My Prime... he used to tell me that a lot. We had this thing. I kept him safe, he kept me safe. Sunstreaker: Come on Sides, /stands up and nudges his shoulder/ It'll be fine where I'm at. There's nobody around. Sides: [ frowns more ] I don't sleep really anymore. Bevel: Then I am extra glad I said it. *stands up* I am gonna go now. Sides: I'll just... keep watch. B l u r r: ... Yeah. Yeah, sure. B l u r r: / lifts claw to wave at Wing and Bevel / Wing: Thank you for the stream. *again. wave. he needs gone* Sunstreaker: That's fine, come on. I don't want to be around Blurr right now anyway Sides: [ sighs ] ... [ just stands up and presses doors in close to his back] Bevel: *she's bad at moments but she'll take a second longer than usual to put her left hand to her chest and give Blurr and slight bow before leaving* B l u r r: / w-wweh ;-; a proper salute / Bevel: *a slight bow even, moment ruined by spelling error whee* Bevel: [[night everybody Sides: [[ ni ni ]]