totally-not-a-sparkeater

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Pokes with stick. Wanna help with my tumblr shenanigans? I am willing to give you the passwords to my sideblogs :3 because I think we can have some fun with this. 3:)

Lmao no thanks fam but do keep me update on your Tumblr based shenanigans because they are both awesome and hilarious 😂

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Not a spark eater? More like eating all the sparks?

Why eat children? 😂

Why not? 😆

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Is this a comic or a word vomit with doodles? Anyways, here are some basic concept about how sparks in TFMR universe works.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

A hand-flower writes on the wall in it's own energon, "call me," and draws a summoning circle with Unicronian symbols and, at the center, a label: "place fresh energon here". The hand-flower lies on the ground before it's masterpiece, bled out.

The silent flyer took a moment to process the scene before him, long slender wings twitching every so slightly before curiosity got the better of him. A clawed digit careful pricked a small fuel line in his wrist as he approached the summoning circle, extending his arm forward and flexing his wrist cabling, watching as a few precious drops of purple fuel beaded to the surface before growing heavy and falling onto the summoning circle below. What could the dark lord possibly want now? Surely this was some sort of trick or excuse to get under the silent mech’s plating? But then again, it’s Unicron he’s talking about here. It’s best to expect the unexpected.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

I Think It's Time For A Break....

//Greetings everyone, Kill Mun here. The past week or so has been rather rough for me due to a series of unfortunate events that have taken place. I've had zero motivation to do anything what so ever because of said events, I'm just too tired and stressed to even bother, I've also found that I am quite literally forcing myself to reply to RP's (with rather half aft replies at that!) rather than doing so willingly with my normal amount of enthusiasm, and those who know me well enough know that I HATE giving half aft replies to my RP partners. Therefore I've decided it'd be best if I take a break from Tumblr until further notice, I just don't have the motivation to RP as of right now and my depression and anxiety have only made it even worse. I may pop in every now and again when I feel motivated/inspired enough to do replies, so please don't get angry/upset if I reply to someone else and then take forever to reply to our thread. I REFUSE to post half aft replies, my RP partners deserve better than that and I wish to give them all the best replies/content possible. So unfortunately this will be good bye for now, my love goes out to all of you lovely mechs and femmes, I hope to see you all soon!

Kill Mun: Signing out..._//

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

The seeker nodded in reply as he quietly lifted himself up onto the berth, shifting onto all fours before carefully laying down on his chassis, not wanting to damage the glass covering his cockpit on the hard metal cot. As uncomfortable as it was to lay on one's cockpit, the mech knew it was the best position in regards to this type of repair, it require minimum movement on his part and provided better access to the damage on his wing, making it easier to repair the damage not to mention a lot faster. Using his arms as a pillow of sorts, the seeker rested his chin on top of them with a soft ex-vent, hidden optics watching closing from behind the protection of his visor as Soundwave quietly approached with the medical kit, pausing next to the berth before retrieving the necessary tools required for the flyer's repair. It was strange really, Killstreak never allowed anyone other than himself or his Trinemate to do his repairs, but for some odd reason, he felt comfortable enough to actually allow the Decepticon third in command to preform the repairs for his wing. Dear Unicron below, he must have lost a good amount of energon because he sure as frag would never agree to anything like this, regardless if it was his superior or not. He could only pray the spymaster didn't notice any of his abnormalities during his repairs (though the purple energon [dark energon] that was leaking from his lines earlier would most certain raise questions).

The Sound of Silence...

The seeker kept completely still while the third in command finished the temporary patch job, shuddering slightly as he felt the tingling brush of a scan running across his injured wing. Killstreak emitted a quiet chitter in response as he followed after Soundwave, taloned pedes barely making a sound during his approach, both mech’s exiting the command centre with a quiet *Whoosh* as the door closed behind them. The ship’s corridors were quiet and vacant of any Cybertronian life, which was rather surprising for the seeker, usually there was at least one drone in almost every hallway no matter where you turned. How strange… The pair came to a halt in front of one of the spare rooms Soundwave informed him about. After inputing the code for the door and gaining access to the vacant quarters, the two mechs quietly made their way inside as the door shut behind them with a soft click. Killstreak looked around for a moment, merely taking in the contents of the empty room before spotting a small cot attach to the wall, quietly making his way over and sitting on the edge of the metal berth. A moment of silence pasted between the two mechs before the seeker hesitantly messaged his higher up, ::›KS: Inquiry….would it be easier if I lay flat on my chassis for repairs or remain sitting up?…_::, the masked mech tilted his helm in question, long elf like audials swivelling forward in an attentive manner.

<< “ Easier if laying down ” >>

Soundwave would still repair the other in either positions but sitting up would have to require Killstreak to move occasionally to allow Soundwave to reach certain places on his injured wing. If they want this done sooner then later then laying down would be the better option in this.

The purple mech waits until the other has done so before apprpaching with the medical kit. Last he scanned the other the injury was temporaily delt with and appears to not have ruined the moment path job.

Bringing out a few of the tools from the container, as it looks like it will require ones servos more then what the tools could offer, only taking the ones that would provide better work on fixing the area.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Closing his mask, the reconnoiter allowed himself to relax as he leaned back into the embrace of the mercenary stationed behind him, a low purr emitting from deep within his chassis at the gentle attentions he received. The seeker would never admit it but he really did enjoy these moments of peace, it was nice to be able to let his guard down, even if it was just a little bit. Although the pair tended to clash quite often (due to their personalities and difference in opinion), it was moments like these that seemed to restored the peace and strengthen the fragile trust they had for one another. ::›KS: Aside from sorting through reports and compiling a list of available bounties within our vicinity, which was all completed earlier this cycle....No, I don't have anything else planned…_::, Killstreak let out a soft click as he gently placed a clawed servo over top of the hunter's own.

♉

Send in ♉ for my character’s reaction to suddenly being kissed by yours

💀::

His green optics widened in shock as Killstreak pressed his lipplates to his, unexpected but nice none the less. Reaching up he pulled his arms about the thin neck of the Seeker making the kiss deeper a low purr coming from his engine. 

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

The seeker kept completely still while the third in command finished the temporary patch job, shuddering slightly as he felt the tingling brush of a scan running across his injured wing. Killstreak emitted a quiet chitter in response as he followed after Soundwave, taloned pedes barely making a sound during his approach, both mech's exiting the command centre with a quiet *Whoosh* as the door closed behind them. The ship's corridors were quiet and vacant of any Cybertronian life, which was rather surprising for the seeker, usually there was at least one drone in almost every hallway no matter where you turned. How strange... The pair came to a halt in front of one of the spare rooms Soundwave informed him about. After inputing the code for the door and gaining access to the vacant quarters, the two mechs quietly made their way inside as the door shut behind them with a soft click. Killstreak looked around for a moment, merely taking in the contents of the empty room before spotting a small cot attach to the wall, quietly making his way over and sitting on the edge of the metal berth. A moment of silence pasted between the two mechs before the seeker hesitantly messaged his higher up, ::›KS: Inquiry....would it be easier if I lay flat on my chassis for repairs or remain sitting up?..._::, the masked mech tilted his helm in question, long elf like audials swivelling forward in an attentive manner.

The Sound of Silence...

The masked mech nodded silently in response, watching closely as the third in command rummaged through the small medical kit for a few moments before finding the two items he was looking for. ::›KS: My quarter’s are not suitable to conduct repairs in due to it’s lack of light source(s)…_:: , the reconnoiter tensed as he felt spindly digits skimming over the open wound on his wing before preforming a partial patch job to stop the leaking of precious life fluids. Killstreak’s personal quarters were anything but convenient for preform a task such as repair work in, the mech’s quarters were nearly pitch black due to the removal of it’s main light sources (courtesy of the seeker himself). As strange as it sounds, the flyer had a very good reason for disposing all possible light sources within his quarters. The mech had hyper sensitive optics, even normal lighting was rather painful if not irritating for him (which is one of a few reasons why he always wears his visor), which debunks the rumours of him being another faceless drone (not like any bot would know that either way).

Soundwave moves his servo’s away once the patchwork is finished. Running one more scan over it to make sure that it would hold long enough to allow them to move without leakage. Tilting his helm back over towards the mech hearing this before moving towards the doors waving the other over. Answers one of the mechs questions on why at some point he had found components for the lights in the quarters being placed outside of the rooms. 

<<” Spare rooms in hallways. Few of them are currently accessible without drones or others “ >>

 Usually they were used for when there’s to much storage packed into one room that needed to be separated into the others or one particular item needed to be stored away from the others depending on what it was. Currently, there should be nothing in either of those extra rooms.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Intimidation Meme

Sometimes it’s difficult for people to seek contact with each other because they can feel intimidated by others. Using this meme, you can send the symbols to my askbox that represent to you how intimidating I am to you. This way, it could be more clear to both sides how things are based on these feelings.

😗 - YOU ARE THE SOFTEST BEING. 😀 - I’m not afraid of reaching out to you. 😃 - To me, you are easy to approach. 😊 - I think you are a really friendly person. 😶 - I’m not sure if I can reach out to you. 😐 - You seem a little distant from others. 😓 - I feel like you would not really like me. 😲 - I’m afraid of reaching out to you. 😟 - I wish I had the courage to start talking to you. 😥 - I am very intimidated by you. I wish it wasn’t that way, because you seem cool. 😫 - I admire you from the sidelines because you seem cool and I’m just a dork. 😧 - Senpai, notice me???? 😦 - I feel really insecure when I want to reach out to you. 😨 - You intimidate me….a whole damn lot. 😭 - I wish I could be your friend but to me, you are so hard to reach out to. 😱 - I am so incredibly intimidated by you, it even makes me a little anxious sometimes. 💀 - OH MY GOD DON’T EAT ME PLEASE

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

The masked mech nodded silently in response, watching closely as the third in command rummaged through the small medical kit for a few moments before finding the two items he was looking for. ::›KS: My quarter's are not suitable to conduct repairs in due to it's lack of light source(s)…_:: , the reconnoiter tensed as he felt spindly digits skimming over the open wound on his wing before preforming a partial patch job to stop the leaking of precious life fluids. Killstreak's personal quarters were anything but convenient for preform a task such as repair work in, the mech's quarters were nearly pitch black due to the removal of it's main light sources (courtesy of the seeker himself). As strange as it sounds, the flyer had a very good reason for disposing all possible light sources within his quarters. The mech had hyper sensitive optics, even normal lighting was rather painful if not irritating for him (which is one of a few reasons why he always wears his visor), which debunks the rumours of him being another faceless drone (not like any bot would know that either way).

The Sound of Silence...

::›KS: Offer accepted and much appreciated Commander Soundwave…_::, he replied via comm. message. Although wary, Killstreak knew an injury such as this should not be left untreated, he was foolish to not seek help sooner, this could have all been avoided had he gone to his trinemate for repairs the moment he returned but he didn’t, and now he was taking precious time out of the TIC schedule because of it. Shame and embarrasement came to the forefront of the flyer’s processor as he watched Soundwave analyze his damaged wing, he should have known the other mech would notice such an injury, it was to big not to! He was surprise he made it to the control room without being pulled aside and questioned about it by other officers, especially on the colour of the energon spilling from his lines. ::›KS: Inquiry…Do you wish to do the repairs here? Or would it be more convenient to preform them somewhere more private?…_“, the flyer questioned, his uninjured wing twitching nervously as he looked about the empty control room. Anyone could come in at this point and see him, and knowing how fast word spreads throughout the ranks, it wouldn’t be long before their Lord caught wind of it.

<<” Negative. Repairs will be done in a more private area. Currently patch needed to make sure there are no further spills as we go “>>

Soundwave wouldn’t give Killstreak a lashing, that wasn’t his job to give despite the position he has over him. No, that can be dealt with by his trinemate or another. Lashings like that are of not the area of work he can spare the time in. Though, if this happens again he will be letting the other leak out more energon then this. If they were to fight right now Soundwave doubts Killstreak would be in well enough condition not to be bested. 

 There’s two items brought out from the medical kit, one in each servo as Soundwave lets go of the damaged wing and gives a small repair work. Just enough that they wouldn’t need to worry about making a trail as the two go to a better place to clean up this mess. 

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

I didn't mean eating out my spark sexually you freak. I want you to kill me.

“….A̲͎̕s̛̱ ̟͢t͉̝͞ḙ̛̙̝̼̤̳̮m͏͖p̼͉͇̻̫̥t̲̳̩̤̟̟ͅi̖͔͔̲̜n͚͓͚̞̩̪g̤ͅ ̟̣̕a̴̬̭̦̟͚̯ş̼̤̠͙̤͖ ̝̤̘ṱ̙̤̹̦h̼a̬͓̬̪t̴͕͚͔̫̦ ͇̼͈͖̗̹̲͢o̞f̖̩̙̟̼f̴e͍̗̬̙̙r̛͙ ̰̦̮͉̣͘i̼̱͜s̡̲̫, I̺͕̟͟ͅ'̪̹͍̹l̪̫̰̙l͏̳̞͇̺̫ ̬̫h̭͔̦̭̰ͅa͚̠̰̟̝̖͈͡v̛̰̪̥e̦̠͔̠͍̯͡ ̰͍̩͓̠̰t͏͓o ̖̫̱͟p̘̼̦̮̗̜͎͢a̬s̸s̛͎̮̺͉̤͇͚…..Í͔̦̤̝̲̹'̮̰m͍̣̲͖͚͔̩ ͏̬ͅn̲͉̮͎͔͕o̴̱̞̱̜͓̻t̫͔̤̤̜̤ ̦͕͖̬͎̫̀e͟x͙̬̳̝̪̩a̗̗͕̘̠c͏̤͇̳̱͙t̜̣͎̭̰̺ͅl͈͍y̮͚̳̼̟̼ ̨̩͕̺̼̗̮̜a͇̘̳̠͟ ҉̩͙̫̝f̦̠ͅa̮̗n̨̩ ̷̟̗͕͍̟o̺͞f̜̜̲͖͖̮ b̲̠i̵̮tt̷̗͍̳̙̲e̶̹̩r̻̭̜̠̞̹ ͏̘̳f͖͇̝͈̬͉u̱e̝̠̰̥l͕s̤̳̮̤….“, the flyer replied sarcastically.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Northrop YB-49 jet-powered flying wing bomber prototype, cancelled in the early fifties in favor of the B-36 piston-powered bomber, as while heavily advanced, the design presented too many flaws not easily fixable by the technology available at the time. 

Nonetheless, its design and the lessons Northrop learned during its development helped shape the Northrop B-2 Spirit, the world’s first and so far only stealth bomber currently in service, some thirty years later. 

Here’s and interesting anecdote regarding the Spirit and Jack Northrop, founder of the company bearing his name, the most important pioneer of the flying wing concept, and the designer of the YB-49:

Thirty years later, in April 1980, Jack Northrop, then quite elderly and wheelchair bound, was taken back to the company he founded. There, he was ushered into a classified area and shown a scale model of the Air Force’s forthcoming but still highly classified Advanced Technology Bomber, which would eventually become known as the B-2; it was a sleek, all-wing design. Looking over its familiar lines, Northrop, unable to speak due to various illnesses, was reported to have written on a pad: “I know why God has kept me alive for the past 25 years.” Jack Northrop died 10 months later, in February 1981, eight years before the first B-2 entered Air Force service.

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

::›KS: Offer accepted and much appreciated Commander Soundwave..._::, he replied via comm. message. Although wary, Killstreak knew an injury such as this should not be left untreated, he was foolish to not seek help sooner, this could have all been avoided had he gone to his trinemate for repairs the moment he returned but he didn't, and now he was taking precious time out of the TIC schedule because of it. Shame and embarrasement came to the forefront of the flyer's processor as he watched Soundwave analyze his damaged wing, he should have known the other mech would notice such an injury, it was to big not to! He was surprise he made it to the control room without being pulled aside and questioned about it by other officers, especially on the colour of the energon spilling from his lines. ::›KS: Inquiry...Do you wish to do the repairs here? Or would it be more convenient to preform them somewhere more private?..._", the flyer questioned, his uninjured wing twitching nervously as he looked about the empty control room. Anyone could come in at this point and see him, and knowing how fast word spreads throughout the ranks, it wouldn't be long before their Lord caught wind of it.

The Sound of Silence...

Looking back towards his commanding officer Killstreak hesitated, this was the first time he has ever spoken with Soundwave, his work as a spy normal keeping him off The Nemesis for long periods of time. He let of a quiet click before giving a small nod in reply, although he was a very secretive and suspicious mech by nature he was not stupid enough to attempt this kind of repair by himself, and should his Lord see the damage on his wing there was no telling what the larger mech would do.

::›KS: Affirmative….The damaged area is too difficult to properly reach, assistance with repairs will be needed…_::, he sent the other, long audials going flat against the sides of his helm in irritated. Had he have been more careful he would even be in this situation in the first place, all because he let his guard down for a mere klik.

Lowering his wings, Killstreak gritted his denta behind the cover of his mask as a few of the damaged lines reopened again due to the strain of movement, the sharp pain causing his injured wing to twitch and spasm a bit. Fresh energon began trailing down from the blaster wound on his wing in small rivulets, leaving behind a dark purple trial. Killstreak click rapidly in irritation upon feeling the injured lines reopen, he was not impressed what so ever.

Standing there with damaged lines now leaking will have any mech with proper working optics wondering about it. The chance of that happening still looms above and if he wants to keep this slightly under wraps that injury must be delt with sooner then later. There’s other objectives that the faceless mech must do but the sinking feeling of this ending up on said list of things moves the mech instead of ignoring. That and lowering the chances of hearing his Lord lose his temper again is not what Soundwaves audials needs. 

Taking back the medical kit as the visor turns over towards the injured area wondering for a split moment if this was left untreated how much energon would start to spill?

<<” Offer assitances to repairs. Will avoid going to the Medical Bay “ >>

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

A moment of silence passed between the pair as the seeker accessed the grounder's private comm. line, quickly putting together and sending the other a message, ::›KS: That depends...Who are YOU…_::. The tall slender flyer slowly began to approach the mech, wings held high in a display of strength and power, a clear warning of what would happen should the other do the seeker any harm. Killstreak was wary as he approached, he didn't know this mech, the grounder could be an autobot spy for all he knew, but he had a duty to protect not only the Nemesis and his fellow soldiers but his Leader as well, and he'd sooner be offlined before he'd allow a stranger into the Nemesis. The seeker came to a halt a few feet in front of the other, keeping a respectable distance between them while also blocking the mech from proceeding any further.

Starter

@totally-not-a-sparkeater​

Opening his optics, Void looked up at the dull Energon lights that hung over him, threatening to fall, as the lantern pended of a single wire. It flashed in agony, as it tried to survive the fall, but gravity did it’s thing and cracked the weak cable provoking its collapse. With a swift move of his servo as if he slashed the air, in seconds, transforming his talons into the buzz saw, slicing in half the lamp before it hit him. Sitting up, slowly, Knock Out gazed around, looking at the drones grind their armor as they dragged away from him. He twitched hearing the metallic scrape and glared at the Vehicons. “Shh….” He purred and moved his servo as it had changed back to its normal form and brushed his index claw against his lips.

“Hush, my little ones” He cooed in a malicious way that made the circuits in the drones twitch in fear. Calmly he moved off the berth where he had been laying, stepping in a puddle of Energon that bathed not only the tip of his peds, it stained also his tires due to the large amount. His frame shivered and he looked down watching closely the ground and licked his lips at the view. Many Vehicons laid many lifeless shells with insides ripped apart. Slowly he crouched and digs his claws in the insides of the closest dead drone and grabbed whatever he found soft enough, pulling it out.

“Pl-please͟” whimpered a Vehicon at the medic. He had never seen the little red mech act in such way, his chassis still had stains of oil, Energon of many other Cons he had killed not long ago. The medic looked at the drone that had spoken and his faceplates twisted into dark expression; even more freaky than any of the threatening looks that the Warlord could do. Still holding what he had pulled out, Void came close to the frightened Vehicon “Did you say something?” he asked as he brought to his mouth the cords and cables he had pulled out, chewing on them; oil staining his chin and lips as well with some Energon. He tore apart the chunk so he could swallow and continue to eat in front of the Vehicon. Moments later he moved his claws and launched a blow against the Vehicon’s throat and immediately Energon splashed the medic’s face..

The medic woke up immediately from his recharge cycle. He was alarmed and vented as he leaned back rubbing his face. He was still exhausted. He wondered how long he had slept. His body told him it was not long…

Sitting up, Void looked around and frowned as he saw his surroundings. Those stained walls, the rotten scent that still emanated from the walls and floor.  No wonder he had dreamt about his past. How had he gotten there? He did not remember. “Scrap..” he groaned and moved off the berth as he slowly walked out of the room where he was. A massacre had happened there. He had killed a lot of mechs there. Dismembered, mutilated and chopped troopers as he pleased in revenge. Thirst fed by his ate and angst that ended transforming him in the mech that he currently was.

He knew that at any moment he could snap if provoked, however, he had learned to control that range and redirect it. Now, he had learned peace.

Finally out of that dark place, he stepped into the open and took a deep intake, venting out a trail of steam due to the low temperature in the area.  He loved it. Ther he remained in the open, with his optics closed. 

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Would it put you off eating a spark if it's owner wanted to have it eaten? What if it were for a sexual fetish?

“I̭͔-.̮͚̰̜ͅ.̻̙̗..͎̣͎̘̙͉No̠̰̹̬,̝͖ͅ i̝̣̘̼͎̳t̰̦͙̬̰̳ͅ ̰̖̝̖̘w͉̫̳̠oul̙̣̠̫̞̯̲d̞̼̳͓̞̱͓ ̣̼͖͖̼n̜o̥t̫̝̻̠͕.̼͇̝̫͓.̺͖.̥̱̭͚.̼̯̰̪͚̣B̬̲͉͇u͔̝̘̺̲̱ͅt̘͖͚̥ ̳̦̺̹͉t͈̣h͎͇̗̥̫͈̝ḛ̹͖ṟ̣̦͍ͅͅe͈͇̼̝ w͍̟̭͈̼o̺u͇̦̩̺̗l̼̳̬̮͈̩d̟͇̱̟͉͖ͅ h͙a̟̖̬͙͖ͅv̯̦̫e̙̭̞̤͙ ̖̳̮̟t͍̠ͅo̖̙̲̤̮͕ ̯͕b̦e͍͕̠̹̻ ͈̘a̭̘͈ͅ ̬m̰̺̤̤͚̟̼u̱̤̱̞͙̱̺t͓̱̻̞͙u͙̣͈͔̼ḁ͉̹͚̥̝ͅl̖̟̻̫̥ͅ ͚t͇̗̲̖̜̯̳ṟ̪͇u̮̩s̲̹͙ț ͕b̭̦͈̣e͍̤͓͖̘̞t̙͕w͔eḛ͕̫ͅn̻͚̻̣̞̳̻ ͇̮̱m̙͖̣̭̜y͔̺s͇̣͙͕̼̥elf͓ ̲͚͎̠a͍̱͕͙̘̟̯n̟d̳͕̯̫̲̻͔ ̞̙̮͉͙m͕̯͈̖͚ͅy̭͇̞͕͔̭̼ ͇̻̞̭̠͎p̤̼a̤͎̮r̹̬̦͔t̰̲̜̥̖̲n̼̞̼e̮̠̹̻͈̘̳r̰̺͇̜̝̜ ̲͇̖͎̘͉̱b̠̺̙͙e̤̫͕̙͉̯̝fo̠̤̪̝r̰͇e̥̮͓̮̳̟̖ ̗͇Iͅ ͇͔̜̯̦w̞̼̠͍̹̻ͅo̠̣̮ͅṵ͍͚̖̬l͈d͔̳͇͔ ̲̙̱̥e͍̪ve̝̺̗n͙ ̻̙̰̮̻̥ͅa̤ͅg̪̬͉̘r͇͎̞e͉̜̲̝͙e̙̳͙̯͍̣ ̞̦̞̭̜ͅṱ̬͍̝̱͕̦o̻̞̳͉ ̘͖a̠̹̟̳̜̱̠n̲͙̘̪̖y̞̼̜͉̻th͚̻͇i͕̺̭ͅn̙̳̤͈̳̳͓gͅ ̮̫͙ị̞̹̳̺̞n͕̘̳̻̰ṿ̦̦̜̼̝ͅo̞̻̩̰̻l͙͉v̥̲̼i̫̩̤̙ṇ͇͈g̪̤̪̙ ̫̝̙̯̯̻sp̠̦̝̘̹̼̣a̝r̬k̼̗͙̘ ̖̖p͎̲̖̖̻̯l͍̜͔͕̥a͚̜̫̪̤̦y̻̠̙.͕̠̺̪̟̳..̠I͓͓'͔̦̫d̙̖̳̲ͅ ̩̰̘͓̤h̞͎̠̗a͎͙͇v̩͖͇͎͇̖e͍̖̥̞̹ ̠̥͎t̯̱̮̹͕o͎̖ ̥̫̤̭tr͓̭͖̲us̳̞̻͇͇ț̠̘͙̗̘ ̖͇̠m̰̮͕y̲̖ ̬̣̗̙̙p̺̲̼a̤̥̱̥rt̹̣̭̯̼̭͕n̗͈̪̼ͅe̬̘͕r̮̳̭̣͇̺ ̺w͍̭̬o̳̯u͕̤̗̼̭̱ld̮͓̤̞ͅ ̼̜̹ͅs̫̦̬̬t̠̭̲o̠̬̞̦p̳̪͍̪͍̰ ̘̼s̳̳̹̯h̳͔̝̬̤̻o͔̥u̜̜̭̲̘̟l͚͉̘̫̥d̲̗͍̥̗̺̟ ̻̠͙̟͈I̯̝̪͙̦ ͚̱͔b͙̮̙̣̣e͈̯c͕̲͖̝͖̜̗o̱̭̦m͔͉̥̺͖̥̙e̫̝̣͔̠̦͔ ̹͍̤̟̬͙̮u̝͉̱nco̠͖͕͔̦̜̮m̤̳̬̩f̩̯̭͓̱͍or̼t̬̲̜̺̘̝̫ab̲̪̬͇͙l͍̤͇e̺̥̠̤͖ͅ a̠͖̻̭̱͚͔n͓͓̫͍̫ͅd̬̜ ̠by̼̦ ͚̦͖r̟͉̖̼ͅe͉̖͉a͓̣̪̟̤̪d̞͕̜͓y͎ ͖̙̙̱t̫̖ͅḥa͈̭̙͖̼̗̣t̠̱̙͙̤͍͚ ͚̤̬t̖͇̹o͚̠ ̥̟s̮t̥o̠p̥ ̯m͚̗̞͍ͅe̤ s͖̞̪ͅḥ͔̠͉̩o̺̪̠̫̼̟ul͍͇̰̺̯̬d̖̺̱ I̱̤̘ ̬l̤̰o̖͕̼̲̳͙se̻͚̼͕̝̰̳ ̻c̫̣̘o̦̳̗n͖̭tr͎͇̤̺̟o̭̫̯̹̳l͎̳..̼̩̰͈̙̠.̦͎.̥͓T̲̠̦̥̼̳h̺̰̘̞ͅe͖̰y̳'̼͙d̳̜̜ ̤̩͚͍̬ha̟̥̘v͖e̺͙͈̥͚ ͚t͎o̠̜͚̥͍̜ ̱̠̱̳̟b̹̹̹̖e͉̝ ̞͇͉̯s̳͚̟͖̞̠̲t̲̞͍̮̲̤ro͖͖̠̗̼͉̜n͔̰̘g͇̮̘̘̙͚̖ ̙͔̼̖ḅ̩͙̙̗̻̝o̲̣̙̻t̞̪̩h̠̣̠̘͕̗͇ ̰p̖̘̱h̯͉͙ͅy̥͉̻͎̭s̜͎͍̩̪̙i̖c̜̜̼̺̱̯ͅa͚̳̙̖͖l̖̥̹̪̞̤l̯̖̖y͍͙ ͉͙̭͓ͅa̰͓̙̤n̘̰͔͖͕d͔̥ ̮̰m̠͕̹̱̬en̩͎̺̲̥t̞̫͖̖̠̟al͖l̯̥͎̟͚y ̠̤̭̩be͉͈̤̪͈f̭̦̳̝̖͎̬o̼̼̬͈̦̯̺r̥̩͙̝͉̭e͈̗ ͎̞̜̻͉̙̼I͚'̭d̰̖ ͍̜̳̦̲̪a̻̫̜ͅg̻̰͚̣͔r͖̜̙͎̰e̼͔ͅe̠̲̦͍͙̝̬ ̣̮͈̙͓t̻̩̼̙͖o ͓s̖̘̮p̠̼͔a͔r̦͉͇̘̺̭k̬̥̫͖̠̱ͅ ͔͇̜̙̠̮ͅpl̻̘ͅa͎̹͎͚̭y̤̞̙̦ͅ.̥͓̥̼͖̭ͅ.̠.̭.I̼͎̙̰͇ͅt̖̪'̻͖̭̩s ̼v͓͔͓̦̠͚e̤͓͚̥̮r̤̭̣̝y͖͇̻͚̳͍̺ ̞̱̙r͉̗͎̝͙͖͉i̗̠̻̫s͚̤̦̻k͇̫̗̟͍y̤̩̹.͙̗̩̟̭͖.͕̼̠̣̳͎̩..̺”

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

Tagged By: (This fragger 💚 --->) @steelandslobber

Tagging: @airachnidphobia

@tinyprimetobe

@commanderultramango

and anyone else who wishes to partake in this tomfoolery XD

[totally-not-a-sparkeater]

::›KS: Oh yes, that's a fantastic idea, I should go pay the Chaos Bringer himself a visit while I'm at it! Sorry sweet spark, not until you calm down!…_::, came the sarcastic reply as they both barrel rolled around the next corner, just barely avoiding smashing into the wall with the speed they were going at. The chase was going well so far, once he made it passed the intersection of corridors up ahead all he'd have to do is exit through the ships hatch a few hallways down and he'd be home free!.....Wait....Wheres Nitro! Killstreak began to panic once he noticed the Mini Warlord was no longer behind him, his panic soon increased however as he caught sight of his Trinemate in the middle of the intersecting hallways directly in front of him. Oh frag, with the speed he was going at he wouldn't be able to stop in time. ::›KS: Nitrobreaker move! I won't be able to stop in time you crazy glitch!..._::, The silent mech warned, only for said warning to go in one audial and out the other for the shorter fly. Killstreak growled before transformer back to root mode, spreading out his wings to their full extent in an attempt to slow down, only to barrel into the much small mech a few seconds later, sending them both flying down the hallway with a loud series of clangs and bangs as they rebounded off of the walls and floor before finally coming to a halt a few moment later. A pain filled his came from the much larger mech as he shakily sat up, one of his wings bent badly at an unnatural angle while the other had a colourful array of different sized dents littering it's surface. Unicron have mercy, this was even more painful then being kneed in the spike!

::Killstreak!:: roared a certain small seeker's voice over comm. link, the seeker in question soon appearing infront of his trinemate as he glared up at the taller seeker, arms crossed over his chestplates, wings held high on his back.

Uh oh. Killstreak cringed as his Trineleader’s angry vocals echoed over their comm. line only to cower slightly as the creation of Megatron himself appear before him shortly after. Oh frag, he had no idea what he did to anger the shorter flyer but he sure as pit wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out! The larger mech turned and booked it down the corridor at full speed before leaping up into the air and transforming, zooming off through the maze of hallways with silent grace.