beeeeecause it seemed fun
a face your muse makes when happy:
a face your muse makes when sad:
a face your muse makes when they see something they want:
a face your muse makes when their berserk button is pressed:
a face your muse makes when they see something they dislike:
Tagging anyone who, like me, thinks this might be fun ❤
guys.
never compare yourselves to other canon blogs who play the same character as you. not one person is the same, we are all different and unique, thus that makes the roles we play so much more better. everyone has a different take on a character, none is better than the other.
look, we all start somewhere, and as we spend more time doing this we improve our writing. I’ve been writing optimus for nearly 5 years. that’s how long it’s taken for me to be where I am. did I get there by comparing myself to other optimuses? no way, otherwise I would of quit a long time ago. Surround yourself with positive influences and befriend each other, support each other and offer critique and help.
there is critisism, which is supposed to be helpful, and then there is doubting yourself.
don’t doubt yourself, okay?
Megatron’s last conversation with Blackguard had ended poorly, largely due to his own temper. Rigel’s dismissal had left him sore, and the very implication that the dealer may have felt the same… After his outburst, he’d been almost certain that the two of them would cease contact with him, as he was unneeded.
When he hears the urgent tone of the alert, he wishes that had been the case, returning it with as much desperation.
::Blackguard, what’s happened?::
There is silence on his end of the line, for a long time. This is because Megatron is trying his best not to sink down into a chair, in a cliché
show of loss. No. There has to be some way they can narrow it down, he has not lost Rigel, he has not failed, not yet. Think.
::…There are only two other universes that would know of him, enough to try and steal him away. The one that I extracted him from, and his true point of origin.::
If it was the former, neither he nor Soundwave could set foot in that world without being destroyed. For the fortieth time this stellar cycle, Megatron curses the dark energon within him. If it was the latter, it was not a universe he had ever had contact with, and thus had no way of being able to locate it.
Either way, Rigel was currently beyond his reach. He may as well be anywhere. After another beat of silence, an idea finishes forming.
::…Have you attempted to make contact with the Academy again?::
Shame colors her field at his question, making Redstrike look over at her again and ask what was going on. She was becoming more and more disturbed and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Blackguard shifts in her spot on the couch, thinks, and texts him that she was speaking with Megatron – a different one, not the one who currently housed them; The one she thought belonged to the same universe stream as Rigel.
Apparently she had thought wrong, and that – perhaps – was the worst discovery to be made in the entire investigation. The boy had come from an unknown stream, and the mecha of that stream had taken him back.
»: No. I hadn’t thought of that.
»: I’m not really sure it’s an option.
A pause, then:
»: You think it’s a worth a shot?
Was it?
The Academy had what they wanted, they could simply ignore any hostility out of the simple virtue that they were currently hidden. It was a long shot, but if open hostility was pointless…
::We may be able to coax a response out of them if your message concerns them, in a way that a threat wouldn’t. If this Academy is Functionalist, then Rigel would be a jewel in their crown. His acquisition would be everything to them. Therefore, they would investigate anything that might suggest doubt as to his validity.::
Here, Megatron paused. Even if this did work, if the Academy began to suspect that Rigel was in fact not a Prime, he would be in danger. They would have to work fast, but a rescue would be possible.
::Send a message telling them that you’ve changed your mind, and that after thinking it over you believe Rigel would benefit from their education, and that you would like him to come visit and see the school grounds. They likely believe you to be dead, and that shock combined with the confusing tone of your message make provoke a quick reply, one that we may be able to trace as it comes in.::
::It may not work,:: he admitted with a snarl. ::But it’s something.::
@radioactivibee answered:
37. Broken vertebra
He can’t quite hold back a sigh. Whether it’s annoyed or resigned is anyone’s guess. But even after anything, even if this feels disgustingly vindictive, Bumblebee can’t leave the former warlord to suffer. Even for their species, spinal strut injuries were tricky and painful. It’s a blessing and a curse that Bumblebee is so much smaller.
“Don’t move, focus on me,” he commands softly, kneeling to gently work his way through gaps in silver playing. “I’m gonna disconnect a few relays, lessen the pain to something more bearable. But you need to be able to feel if something else goes wrong before real help gets here. Hold on, this might sting a bit.”
Already, he’s popping an energon cube out of a subspace pocket. “Optics up, Megatron. I need you online while we wait. You could give me some kind of grandiose speech about change…or tell me what you need those relics for. Smokescreen mentioned something a while back. Aren’t those better left behind as stories for sparklings? I never told my Council about them, don’t you think that’s too much power for one government to hold?”
Another sigh, the sound of a popping seal. “Never mind, you can tell me when you’re repaired. Here. Keep your energon up. I don’t know who did this or if it was intentional, but if they could take you down, they’ll mow me over in a sparkbeat. We’re gonna need that cannon of yours functional and ready to go, leave aiming the damn thing to me.”
Megatron has to keep reminding himself that Bumblebee is no longer an enemy. It isn’t easy, when all of his battle protocols keep pinging him to stay alert, to defend against the thing that is currently still attacking him. No, Bumblebee didn’t do this to him. The Insecticon did. It hadn’t latched onto him with that… appendage, he’d severed it first, but it hadn’t acted like any Insecticon he’d ever fought. Another thought chilled him. There’s never just one.
[[SYSTEM SHUTDO- Action Overridden.]]
The warlord’s optics flickered. There was a cube in front of him that wasn’t there a moment ago and he took it, willing his servo not to shake. Focus on the pain. You’ve been through worse. Stay awake. “Relics. Smokescreen. I don’t care about… the relics. But we don’t know… which of the-”
[[SYSTEM SH- Action Overridden.]]
He growled as Bumblebee grazed against a cracked sensor. “Which of the coordinates will lead to… the Allspark. It was never recovered in my Universe…” Because I killed the last mech who knew its location.
Megatron grew still and quiet, listening. His cannon charged. “You better have been serious… about aiming for me.”
Megatron’s last conversation with Blackguard had ended poorly, largely due to his own temper. Rigel’s dismissal had left him sore, and the very implication that the dealer may have felt the same… After his outburst, he’d been almost certain that the two of them would cease contact with him, as he was unneeded.
When he hears the urgent tone of the alert, he wishes that had been the case, returning it with as much desperation.
::Blackguard, what’s happened?::
Her plating flares out anxiously as Megatron begins his planning and lays out his orders. She wants to react, wants to follow, wants to keep him happy (or at least keep him from getting anymore upset) by doing everything he says but the sheer speed of which he gives his orders coupled with ferocity of his voice leave her confused and overwhelmed. It’s all heard but only a little of it is understood, and what is understood does not click. This is not her universe (that she knows of anyway), she doesn’t even know where her universe is anymore; She’s a terrible first choice to send in. She’s not a spy or a scout or even a soldier, she’s a civilian; And where else could they have gone? The academy was Cybertronian. Unless it was a ruse?
She halted that thought before it could get anywhere, not wanting to think on that subject again. The other Megatron had already pointed out the possibilities of what could actually being going on with Rigel and his kidnappers. She did not want to rehash them.
The sudden pause in everything almost goes by unnoticed until Megatron starts speaking again, uncharacteristically soft in tone and volume. It’s not quite what Blackguard would describe as defeat, but something like it.
She cycles the air through her vents in a long, heavy sigh.
»: No. They took him through a bridge. He could be anywhere. In any universe.
There is silence on his end of the line, for a long time. This is because Megatron is trying his best not to sink down into a chair, in a cliché
show of loss. No. There has to be some way they can narrow it down, he has not lost Rigel, he has not failed, not yet. Think.
::…There are only two other universes that would know of him, enough to try and steal him away. The one that I extracted him from, and his true point of origin.::
If it was the former, neither he nor Soundwave could set foot in that world without being destroyed. For the fortieth time this stellar cycle, Megatron curses the dark energon within him. If it was the latter, it was not a universe he had ever had contact with, and thus had no way of being able to locate it.
Either way, Rigel was currently beyond his reach. He may as well be anywhere. After another beat of silence, an idea finishes forming.
::…Have you attempted to make contact with the Academy again?::
Mmhm. Mmhm. All the messages that were up for deletion had been delt with, except one. This one message, barely containing anything but a return signal, stared at him from his console screen, and his frown darkened severely.
:: You found me, :: He sent flatly, this time through a encrypted line that he was sure none of his fellow Autobots would dare attempt to crack. This was obviously meant to be a private, conversation.
Are you ever really gone? Megatron smirks, letting amusement show in his glyphs.
::So I have. Again, that is. You could never hide from me for long.::
Megatron compulsively obsessed over searching for Optimus for millions of years. Although things, on his end at least, were much different now, old habits die hard.
20. Open Fracture of Leg
It’s rare that he hits the ground that hard. Every time Blackout flies, he runs the risk of his hallucinations choosing to strike and causing problems, but statistically speaking, he usually okay.
Not today.
Suddenly not being able to tell where the sky and the ground are when one is cruising at five thousand feet is a problem. He’d done his best, resetting everything he could think of, trying not to get lost in the hallucination that served to bend reality out of recognition.
The tyton came back to the real world about two hundred feet from the ground. It was barely long enough for him to right himself and get his legs underneath him before he collided with the ground with a forty-thousand-pound thud that shook the terra for hundreds of feet. Animals and birds fled explosively, cawing and screeching in fear as the ‘Con bounced into a deep, wide, canyon-like ravine, ricocheted off the fucking walls what felt like fifty-seven times, and landed in a titanic heap at the bottom.
Blackout isn’t sure if he’s even in one piece, so for now, he remains still. After a moment, optics still closed, he moves the fingers on each hand, and does the same with the long, curving foot talons that make his kicks so deadly. Pain seems to shoot from everywhere, but, his left leg in particular, provides a white-hot stabbing pain he can’t ignore. Looking down, it becomes clear why.
Megatron was not forged for flight; he felt no call to the sky as some of his troops reportedly did, had no wings or rotors that ever craved the wind against them. Even so, it was the smallest fraction of escape that he allowed himself as a warlord. It wasn’t often anymore that Megatron is able to venture off-ship on his own, without some sort of imminent peril that needed addressing, so he flew at a relatively leisurely pace. As he came to a forested area with signs of a recent crash, it became apparent that imminent peril was indeed at hand. Ah well.
Landing mid-transformation, Megatron waited for his plating to settle completely before walking down the path of destruction. Only a large, military vehicle could have left this amount of carnage, and there had been no human distress signals in the air. Soon enough, the end of the trail dropped down into a ravine, with gouges from claws running down the sides. Definitely not human.
What he hadn’t expected to see was a mech he had thought was long since perished. Megatron dropped down into the cavern for a closer look, to ensure that his optics hadn’t deceived him. Despite the other’s injuries, the warlord approached him with a grin.
“Blackout. So you still function after all… albeit with some difficulties, it seems.” He put in a call for immediate evac and medical assistance. Strong as he might be, Megatron could not lift the tyton out of here on his own.
Megatron’s last conversation with Blackguard had ended poorly, largely due to his own temper. Rigel’s dismissal had left him sore, and the very implication that the dealer may have felt the same… After his outburst, he’d been almost certain that the two of them would cease contact with him, as he was unneeded.
When he hears the urgent tone of the alert, he wishes that had been the case, returning it with as much desperation.
::Blackguard, what’s happened?::
She shifts restlessly, the motion drawing a curious and worried glance from Redstrike. She avoids making optic contact with him but sends a forced feeling of calm through her field. He needn’t worry, he’s done enough of that. She’s just dealing with some demons – metaphorical and literal – at the moment, and this one in particular can only be dealt with by her and her alone.
He seems unconvinced and makes his doubt known through a soft grunt, but leaves her alone and gently runs his hand over her rotors to soothe her.
After Crossfire sends a copy of all his collected data to her datapad, Blackguard saves it for herself then forwards another copy to Megatron. There wasn’t much available – a list of her recent comm calls with Ruka from the academy that inquired about Rigel highlighted as the likely suspect, video footage of the attacking mech exiting Crossfire and boarding their own ship that took off almost immediately into a space bridge – but it was something. It was all they had and she had to put all her faith into the idea that something could be found from it.
Truth be told though, she didn’t know if what could be found would be enough.
»: I am.
She does not trust that question, because if she can walk then she can meet him somewhere (his Nemesis, she suspects). If she can meet with him then she can be forced to cower and grovel under his unforgiving gaze. He cares for the boy, for whatever reasons he has, and she has royally screwed up on keeping Rigel safe and, by proxy, keeping Megatron happy. She shifts again, earning another look and slightly more aggressive petting from her mate.
She does not want to meet with him.
As soon as the datapacket is sent, he begins scanning through it, watching the footage first. The mech doesn’t appear to be a pirate or smuggler, but reminds him instead of something much worse. He has the air of a Senator.
His suspicions are only confirmed by the forwarded messages, an Academy aggressively interested in Rigel. In Megatron’s experience, the only “schools” that need such pushy recruitment are those that no one willingly attends. A new dread settles in his lines, that the femme they rescue may not be the same that was lost. Dread is a powerful motivator.
::Good. I will join you in your universe momentarily. It’s likely that they’ll be shielding Rigel’s signal from wherever he’s being kept, but a mech like that operates out of Cybertron. I can have Soundwave start scanning transmissions for mention of this Academy, and the moment anything is found, I want you on-planet. I am too well-recognized, and…::
He trailed off. If Blackguard had been repaired by his alternate, then that was where she was, in another universe in which the Decepticons had been victorious. In such a world, surely nothing like the Senate, or Shadowplay clinics or facade Academies could exist without his counterpart’s knowledge. When he speaks again, his voice lacks its usual intensity.
::…He’s not there at all, is he?::
Send me “ ☹ ”, and I’ll generate a number between 1-75 to see where/how my muse is injured. Send “ ☹ ⇋ ”, and it’s your character living the pain. The third option would be “ ☹ ☹ “ to have both wounded (in which case first generated number will be for my muse and second for yours).
Tw for possible blood and gore! Please be mindful of your partner’s possible triggers that might only apply to a couple of these.
Megatron’s last conversation with Blackguard had ended poorly, largely due to his own temper. Rigel’s dismissal had left him sore, and the very implication that the dealer may have felt the same… After his outburst, he’d been almost certain that the two of them would cease contact with him, as he was unneeded.
When he hears the urgent tone of the alert, he wishes that had been the case, returning it with as much desperation.
::Blackguard, what’s happened?::
Blackguard curls herself tighter around her bondmate, the shame of failure in protecting her child suddenly gaining strength at the sound of Megatron’s distress. He trusted her with Rigel. She failed them both. She deserves everything that comes and absolutely no second chances.
Having to explain it all through text feels impersonal too, but with her vocalizer on the fritz she has no other choice.
»: Rigel’s been taken.
»: I don’t know who did it. They hit us with an EMP-blast and I barely managed to keep out of my systems crashing because of it. They tried to kill me for it too.
»: I have been mostly repaired by the other Megatron’s medical crew. He, Crossfire, my conjunx, and my amica are doing their best to look into the attack and find Rigel.
She pauses slightly before sending:
»: I’m sorry.
Somehow, not hearing her voice is even more alarming. Likely it was a result of her ongoing recovery, leaving his mind to conjure all of the things the femmeling himself may be going through. Megatron gets halfway through hurriedly punching in the code for Rigel’s locator beacon before remembering he doesn’t have it anymore…
Slag. He stares at the console screen while he thinks. They tried to kill Blackguard and failed, but if her injuries were so extensive they likely believed her to be dead. If they had been planning on ending Rigel’s life too, they wouldn’t have bothered kidnapping him. But, needing to take his guardian out of the picture boded ill for the young one. Something was going to happen to him that a sane parent would not approve of, and there were pits much more painful than death. This trail of thought chilled him, but it meant that there was still a chance.
Megatron begins running a diagnostic on his own circuit shielding.
::You’re both alive. Send me all of the information you have, the more of us that are looking, the better. Are you able to walk?::
Megatron's back up 