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@empurataplay
rules | about
indie selective idw1 shockwave. slow activity. if you wanna reply to an ask please make a seperate post and tag me in it minors do not follow / interact. mun is 21+
other blogs: rodimus | starscream
personal blogs will be hardblocked if you reblog my posts.
Visual and audial circuits restoring... Primary functions: operational. Emergency cooling system: online. Confounding noise... Overriding command... Cooling system: offline. That's better. Singular optic sight restoration comes first, revealing debris upon which he laid. Turning his head, bright red flames engulf the surrounding area. Notifications of damage to left arm power supply pop up, only to be ignored. Remnants of a crashed, humbly small personal ship lay under his fingertips. Remaining energy reserves sent jolts of strength to his legs in an attempt to crawl out and up, shake off the debris mixed of the ship's unreliable material and cracked ground of his landing planet. Giving his audials an experimental twitch like that of an organic cracking its joints to unblock the interference coming from the alien atmosphere. Good. He can hear more than inside his head now. Checking logs for last known location. Data corrupted. Fine. One must prioritize self-preservation. Leaving the burning carnage behind for its got no value left in it, the desolate land extends even beyond the horizon. However, interestingly the scans show signs of minerals that might be of use later. This will have to do as a starting point.
blinky
boob so shock it made me wave
photobombingcryptid: It's a photo you take of yourself and a friend of two it's really fun I promise
Fun is subjective, yet there is objectively nothing fun about taking a photo of one's self.
shockwave shockwave would you like to take a selfie
Are you giving this selfie to me for free?
boob so shock it made me wave
I would defend his wrongs
photobombingcryptid:
It’s early in the morning when he awakens, both from his surgery and recharge. He’s surprised to find himself reasonably refreshed, as waking up from any form of forced unconsciousness leaves one feeling groggy and even more tired.
Note read, almost forgotten about and then quickly remembered. No fiber in his frame wants to drag itself to the academy, but Meme promised a fellow classmate his assistance in an engineering project.
Whether he wants or not, he needs to haul his aft to the academy. Meeting with Senator Shockwave is inevitable.
On his way to the academy, he beelines it straight to the destination, unlike his preferred route which would have taken him around key points where police patrols often hung around. Even though Meme’s status as an outlier hasn’t been exposed (yet), the helicopter has always done his best to avoid detection, just in case.
However, seeing the changes brought by the surgery, he feels a sense of security that, for the first time, his original spark frequency won’t give him away. Nothing in him gives him that twisting, choking feeling in his fuel pumps that his spark is about to reset back to its comforting and yet extremely unstable signature.
It looks like they have finally fooled it to accept the change, through a loophole.
His project partner is nowhere to be found at the scene in these early hours. He takes it as an opportunity to meet up with Senator Shockwave and get mutual reassurance that Meme is well and alive.
He knocks on the office doors, letting himself in.
“You wanted to see me?”
Having been at the academy since very early morning as per usual, he had been occupied reviewing some mandatory reports, some about his duties as a senator, some about the state of the academy, and others being details about Meme’s surgery the night prior, it feeling necessary to Shockwave to give him a report on it. Whether Meme will actually review it and understand the contents, it was up to him of course.
Shockwave greets him with a quick glance and a smile, sorting through the pile of documents on his desk. “Of course. I should know how you are holding up, even if it hasn’t been that long. I did leave you there when I concluded that no further action was needed to stabilize your condition, but it’s always most efficient to hear from you.” Because he doesn’t expect Meme would speak up if he felt something was wrong, seeing that he hadn’t said anything about the pain of the usual operation. So perhaps it is best to ask him directly.
After gathering the reports of the surgery, he reaches to hand them over to Meme. “Here’s the whole process in detail. But I expect it doesn’t interest you all that much? What I did was conceal your spark signature with that of another one’s frequency. It should hold up for a decent amount of time, but exposure to situations that will have your spark acting up can damage the conceal, and your own frequency will crack through. That will be suspicious, for sure.” He tries to simplify it as best as he can, no need to explain the science behind it to Meme.
“Avoid extreme stress and try not to use your powers excessively at once. It’s a method still in development, so the spark conceal is more fragile than we would like it to be at the moment. But I would still like to run some tests. Can you create something large in size, and tell me if it makes you feel any different?”
forgedcold:
Hacked or shadowplayed?
Shadowplay won’t make you send virus linked nudes.
@mastermegatron:
I’ll give you a singularity in exchange.
I don't understand your gain from this.
Don’t you want to destroy everything, Shockblast?
Rolls his optics.
Perhaps you don’t understand what it means to be facetious.
You have me confused with this "Shockblast" of yours and his goal to destroy everything. I am not after such hollow things. It is only a means to an end for me.
@mastermegatron:
I’ll give you a singularity in exchange.
I don't understand your gain from this.
will you crush me beneath the weight of your tit
. . .
empurataplay:
The sense of naivete he gets from this little creature is curious. But of course, the lack of any notable intelligence must play part in it. “It serves no purpose at this moment.”
He lets go when the small one grabs onto his chest, one he is visibly very intrigued by. What was so amusing about his chest, or what this thing saw in it, he puts these questions away for later. “I do not have a face.”
Surprised, Megatron tilts his helm. With no comprehension of personal space, he crawls closer to Shockwave’s optic, looking into it curiously as though he might find a face behind the lens. “But why no face?”
Slowly, he reaches out to gently touch his optic. “How you eat?”
His vision is slowly being obscured by the curious intruder, getting too close. His optic moves, looking up and down at the bitlet.
The question lets vague memories resurface. The answer is obvious, but may not be common knowledge, or understood at all. Maybe an unknown concept, but that's the only answer anyway. "Empurata."
Before any contact can be made to his optic, Shockwave grabs his tiny hand with his fingers to stop him. "I don't. I have other ways of energon intake."
empurataplay:
“It is essentially sugar. It has a sweet taste to it.” So the observation is correct, yummy in non-scientific terms.
His optic glances at the glass placed on the surface of his chest, like it was some sort of cup holder. He pushes it off with his gun, letting it fall to the ground. No more juice. His audials twitch at the strange commentary that was irrelevant. And he watches the little creature make faces at the reflection on his chest. “You are fascinated by your own sight. In line with low intelligence life form behavior.”
“Uh oh, you spilled,” he observes as he watches the grape juice fall all the way to the floor. “You have to cwean it.”
Megatron looks back at Shockwave, innocent enough to not realize he has more or less been called stupid. But of course he’s stupid. He’s baby, and he’s learning. Seemingly forgetting the tiny mess, he grabs the top of Shockwave’s chest and hoists himself up to see his face. He gasps when he just sees a giant yellow optic. “Where your face?”
The sense of naivete he gets from this little creature is curious. But of course, the lack of any notable intelligence must play part in it. "It serves no purpose at this moment."
He lets go when the small one grabs onto his chest, one he is visibly very intrigued by. What was so amusing about his chest, or what this thing saw in it, he puts these questions away for later. "I do not have a face."
mastermegatron:
“I don’t know what a fwucktose is, but it’s yummy!”
He chirps excitedly when Shockwave picks him up, because up until now, this is the best thing that has ever happened to him. He sets the grape juice on top of Shockwave’s chest before holding out his arms, marveling at the size of his chest. “So big! You must be stwong!”
When he sees his reflection in Shockwave’s chest, he giggles and points. “Dat’s me!” He sticks his tongue out then, making a face at himself.
“It is essentially sugar. It has a sweet taste to it.” So the observation is correct, yummy in non-scientific terms.
His optic glances at the glass placed on the surface of his chest, like it was some sorf of cup holder. He pushes it off with his gun, letting it fall to the ground. No more juice. His audials twitch at the strange commentary that was irrelevant. And he watches the little creature make faces at the reflection on his chest. “You are fascinated by your own sight. In line with low intelligence life form behavior.”
