Hi hi! I’m MorbidCuriosity! I’m a streamer, artist, and writer along with being a massive transformers fan! This franchise has taken over my life send help
You can also find me over on bsky, twitch, and Ao3!
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Lwik the Cartographer, my sort of dnd-ish character Ive had for a while. Now in a time period he isn't used to for a new campaign Im doing with some friends.
For some reason he is the only character I've ever done this color/shading styling on.
girls with adhd playing long rpgs like "i am overwhelmed by the state of the save file i left off with last time my attention arbitrarily fell onto this game. time to start from scratch."
"yeah i fucking love this game. i've bought it on console and pc, and then the remaster too. i have no idea how it ends, i only get 40% of the way through the main story each time"
TH: The Pact of Stone & Steel 00 - The Mask of Pale
THUNDERHEART
=SENTIENCE AU=
“The Pact of Steel & Stone”
== P R O L O G U E ==
=THE MASK OF PALE=
Cybertron, Niconia Transport District
“We still have plenty of time.” Lying, Praxis-II spoke quickly over their comms as they drove the transport up the final incline to the launch port. “The aerial detection network is still down. We'll make sure your exit's covered…”
“I trust you…” Montera-4 replied, her voice tight and stressed after a morning of barking orders. “We are almost ready to leave.”
“Understood.” He paused to navigate the vehicle around some building debris. “Be there soon.”
Some griping came through faintly in the background from her. “N’vek! Stow it! I won’t tell you-” Praxis flipped off his receiver.
Scowling from behind him, Crash Guard braced himself against the interior of the transport from the force of a turning bank in the ramp. “Prax. We really should be getting to our ship.”
“We will.”
“Steelback is counting on us, you know.” Mobius quipped from the farthest back seat of the transport.
“I said we will!” Yelling back, Praxis tightened his digits around the controls; they had delayed enough so he could see her off. He just had to see to it. For her… Shaking his head, he glanced around their peripherals “Scythe, Sun Thief still trailing us?”
“Affirmative.” Steel Scythe answered from the middle with a peek outside towards their Seeker.
As the transport crested the top of the ramp, they could see the Matriarch’s Light quickly getting ready to leave the planet. Even as they slowed, the few bots rushing around the belly of the ship gave them no mind as they hastily checked over things. Coming to a quick stop, the three Specialists slid out of the transport with their weapons drawn and at the ready.
“Crash Guard and Scythe, spread out in a defensive position,” Praxis ordered. “Mobius, stay with the transport.”
“Staying overhead.” Sun Thief called out as they feathered their thrusters to maintain their position above.
As they dispersed, Praxis turned to see Montera striding quickly down the Light's ramp to meet him. Before a word was spoken, she threw her arms around him with such a tight embrace; her Conjunx, her sparkmate. With the stress of their mission and how this day had already unfolded, he didn't miss the chance to reciprocate her in kind.
“You made it!” She said after pulling away, her voice heavy.
“Of course, we promised to ensure your escape.” He told her, his voice holding the facade of his worry.
She looked down, feigning some of her own hopelessness. “You should all just come with us.”
“We can't. We have our craft and orders.”
“We could make it work, Praxion.” She begged. “Please.”
Flicking his optics off for a moment, he shook his head. He wanted nothing more than to do so… “We have our mission, you know how important it is.”
She grimaced. “Its all the same thing. Our missions are parallel.”
“Montey… We can't. Its-”
“Gegen, there’s no room for it! Leave it on the damn runway!” N’vek, their logistic officer, yelled between bots from the ramp, her voice disrupting the tender moment before turning her optics towards the two lovers. “Ma’am! We don't have time for this scrap! We’ve been loaded and cleared!”
Montera grimaced once more. “There is no time….”
“There never will be.” Prax said, leaning his helm against the front of hers before giving her the tenderest of kisses.
“...We’ll make it.” She whispered as mouths parted. “Stay true…” She said, gritting her denta with a solemn nod.
Stoning himself, Praxis stepped back from her finally. “We will meet you there. Wherever it may be. I promise."
“Montera!!” N’vek screamed from the ramp. "By Primus, we gotta go!"
The Matriarch frowned as she looked back. “Stow it!”
Biting back sheer with audacity, N’vek wasn’t one to take unjust flak. “Stow this ped up your-”
Several quick volleys of weapon fire above cut the air. “Company!” Their Seeker yelled as they maneuvered for a better shot at a rapidly approaching Alt.
“Just one?!” Crash Guard yelled out as the streamlined shape viciously raced over the crest of the launch station ramp
“Long Hunter!” Sun Thief yelled back; the word drove the group's cables cold with nerves.
As fast as their sudden appearance, multiple weapons slatted out from several pylons on the Alt as streaks fired off from the front of the approaching Decepticon. Piercing over the sound of the howling of their engine, a series of flechettes and high velocity bolts zipped through the air. With such speed, those in the open dipped for cover as the projectiles struck and embedded into transport and bot alike; the Hunter’s aim seemed true enough to get everyone scattered while their erratic movement kept them from the overhead hits.
As Mobius and Crash Guard dove behind their transport, a pair of the solid bolts struck Steel Scythe in the shoulder, sending them staggering onto the ground next to Praxis. The sound of combat had stirred the other bot’s inside the Matriarch, leading to the rushing of plenty of steps heading for the exit to help.
Leading the charge was Treads, the Autobot’s single Wrecker in their unit, who barreled down the ramp with purpose. With her weapons drawn, she made a quick pace, even shoving N’vek clean off her legs as she was scrambling to go the other way up the ramp. Now that the Logistics Officer clattered to the ground out of the way, two of the other Autobots and some of Montera’s personal mercs rushed to assist.
Montera ducked and scrambled towards her ship, frantically keeping herself down as she could. With several of her crew on the way, she could order the ship off properly, hopefully wanting to get everyone on board if they managed to fend off this single Decepticon. The Hunter had other plans as they still raced for their launch lane, charging up their Spiker to fire a single, larger bolt through the air past them. Shrieking over everyone’s head, the projectile zipped for the unloaded reserve of crated energon the crew were arguing about just moments before: Their intended and calculated target.
A violent detonation cracked off as the packaged material was pierced, sending several of the bots who had just cleared the ramp off of their peds and shaking even the large ship; several of the Matriarch’s auxiliary rear sensors and turret assemblies crumpled from the shrapnel. With several bots either dead or swept to the ground, Treads, still ever so determined, pushed back off and rushed towards the fight.
By now, the Specialist team with Praxis had gotten into cover and had positioned themselves to return fire. Yanking Crash Guard to his feet, their squad leader looked back to the ship as another volley of bolts rushed around Montera, several of which struck one of her own trying to help her.
With movement that showed faster than their aim, the Con was now close enough to take more direct influence on the fight; they were after the Matriarch, and they were going to go through whoever stood in the way.
Ripping apart their sleek black shell, the Hunter sprawled themselves at speed to use their momentum to slide across the launch pad surface. Twisting their back downward, they fired several flechettes up at the Autobot Seeker, sticking them with several of the small but fierce darts. Dipping on their wings, Sun Thief maneuvered himself away from taking more projectiles.
Now that their air cover was momentarily gone, the Hunter shifted themselves once more as they closed the distance to the Specialist’s transport. Catching their heel on the surface below, they twisted themselves into a short roll to then shove off from the launch pad, powering their legs into an upward leap.
“Go!” Praxis yelled back towards Treads and Eet-7, who were now several paces away. “We’ll hold-”
Arcing themselves over the transport, the Hunter dove down onto Mobius, driving their dual wrist blades into the torso of the smallest of the team. With their momentum crumpling her, the Con used their speed and clash to twist the both of them in a roll. Skidding so fast on their peds, they dragged the small specialist around as they slid upright, firing a quick burst of their Spiker at Praxis and Treads. Several swift bolts struck both of the larger framed bots, three struck the squad leader in the shoulder, while two shunted into Tread’s belly as she drew her rail rifle. As the others staggered back desperately, the Hunter stopped firing to strong-arm Mobius’ mass around, their blades still stuck in her chassis.
Just in time to throw her barrel towards the target, the bastard placed the smaller framed bot in front of her shot just as she fired. The rail round blasted off and zipped into Mobius’ back, striking several bits of her and lancing off at a slight angle into the side of the transport that had been used for cover just one moment ago. With her weapon recharging, she looked up to see the Con sidestep closer to the transport with a now charged Spiker barrel trained around their screaming Autobot shield. Her optics barely caught the nanosecond of flash of their weapon as they dipped their stride as well, the large bolt zipping past her shoulder and finding its way right into her squadmate Eet-7, who had been rushing to help; the projectile striking her in the center of her battlemask and splitting her helm through.
Now back on his footing, Praxis took what he could to snap his Ion Cannon out from his gauntlet to fire at the Decepticon. Maybe his aim was a bit off from the bolts in his shoulder, but he fired twice and sent two rounds clear around their side; the Hunter had deliberately pierced their shooting shoulder to make this difficult. As the Con moved to pull back towards the rear of their transport, Crash Guard finally scrambled over the craft to help, only to get more in the way as Praxis struggled to get a better shot.
Pressed now, the Hunter moved quicker for their cover as they did their best to counter while keeping Mobius as a shield. As they slid around the side of the wheeled transport, they fired a few Spiker bolts into Crash Guard’s side before the Specialist leader shot once more. While their aim was true, the Con once again countered with a hard step, moving Mobius back in the way; the Ion shell slamming into her with hellish effect. With his screaming shield structurally compromised, they finally withdrew their blades as they slipped around the craft, letting Mobius crumple painfully on the ground.
Firing her Rail Rifle once more, Treads sent a more charged round through the corner of the craft; the shot bore cleanly through but only zipped just a breath between the Hunter’s neck and helm. Jerking at the closeness of that air-splitting round, the Con quickly just reloaded a cylinder of bolts into the bottom of their Spiker.
“Push!” Steel Scythe yelled, charging quickly up the other side of the transport.
“Fraggin’ on it!!” Angrily, Treads boomed as she moved with them.
With their own melee charged, Steel Scythe swung down to bring his axe pick down into the Decepticon. After announcing their action, the Hunter moved just in time to counter the larger framed warrior; digging their shoulder down, they pushed hard, low and forward to slam their mass into Scythe’s chassis at his tanks. The axe fell and struck the back of the transport as Scythe was shoved off, now focused on grappling his slippery opponent. The Hunter, however, wished not to spend too much time with this bot, quickly shifting their Spiker away and driving their blades into the Autobot’s weapon gauntlet at the center forearm. Once pricked in, the Con yanked and dropped their weight back, using the angle of the stuck wrist blades to drag the larger bot with them; if they didn’t cooperate with their dance partner’s movement, they’d lose their arm.
Rolling the two of them, the Con brought Steel Scythe over top of their twisting frame, only to withdraw their blades to let him slam helm first into the transport. Kicking from the crashing Autobot, they snapped their Flechette gun in their digits and let loose an automatic volley of the small, zipping darts into their back. As Treads powered around the corner, she too would be met with a few of these darts zipping around her. The Hunter was determined to-
Sun Thief, tired of the fight, soared down at the Decepticon; their thrusters hot as they slammed their mass into the bastard Hunter to the hard metal launch pad surface. Now in their grasp, the Autobot Seeker started to power the Con across the ground away from everyone.
“Take that, dirtkisser!” Treads shouted as they watched the airframe finally doing some work.
Struggling to get Crash Guard off the ground, Praxis hollered out on his comms. “Anyone not with us, get back on the ship!”
Treads gave a huff. “Yes sir!” They answered stoutly despite wanting to see that Decepticon fall.
“Keep her safe, please.” He added. “For me.”
“Understood. Come on, Denati.” She said, peddling back past the now arriving Medic of her group.
“Get going!” Her squadmate yelled. “I’ll catch up.”
“Denati-” Prax growled.
“Don’t Denati me!” She shouted as she slid to her knees next to Mobius. “Your team needs a medic!” Defiant as always, she’d rather have to shift squads if it meant keeping the needed fluids inside of another Autobot.
In a hellish slight to finish this Decepticon, Sun Thief continued to grind the Hunter along the ground as he placed several heavy strikes of his fist against the Con's ornate battle mask. Despite the landing blows, the Hunter only hissed as their form sparked against the moving surface beneath them. The thief was going to slide this bastard off the flight platform and let them fall a few thousand feet to their death. They’d see to it.
What they couldn’t see was the devious strike the Hunter was preparing to fend off this airframe. With a balled servo, they swung a soft fist into Sun Thief's side in between his own hits. As the Hunter swung, the pair of wrist blades slotted out viciously as the swing drew faster. Whether the Seeker expected it or not, his enemy plunged their short lengths of piercing daggers into the Autobot's lower torso; the Ascendant’s Bite. Before Thief could really register the first, the Hunter drew their arm once, temporarily half sheathing the wrist blades only to strike again in the same fashion. After the second pierce of those blades, they abandoned his plan of attack and let go of the Con to get some space. They’d have to move back to elevation being their advantage.
As the Seeker pulled away on their wings, the Hunter twisted once again as they drew their Flechette launcher and fired a volley at Sun Thief. As the rapid little pricks struck their back, Thief spun themselves to face the Con from the sky. Ignoring any more incoming flechettes, they shifted their Ion Cannon from their weapon gauntlet to finish the enemy off. Quickly lining up, they charged a shell to fire. While the darts had paused from an empty magazine, the Hunter was out of bullets, but not out of options.
With a flick of their wrist, the Hunter's embedded flechettes gave a sharp, electronic chirp before violently detonating. Each of the flechettes hid a potent, disguised shape charge; more bite than silent bark. A series of small but precise explosions erupted from Sun Thief's body, chunking armor, piston, and cable alike as the Seeker's chassis was blown apart. As the upper half of their torso split and ruptured, their thrusters struggled to maintain a sense of direction as the now guideless frame gave no proper instruction. Cold and quick as the rest of their work, the Autobot Seeker fell from the sky as their corpse fell, crashing against the ground to a headless bed of sparks and trembles.
“Primus…” Denati groaned sorely as they watched the Hunter rolling and sliding behind one of the Launchpad pillars.
Realizing that the Hunter's flechettes were more than just an inconvenience, Crash Guard looked down at the three lodged into his chest plate. Steel Scythe was having the shared thoughts at that time and slipped a pace away to not risk the same fate.
“Oh frag…” Scythe stammered, seeing the several dozen in his frame.
More in panic than shock, Crash Guard quickly gripped one of the flechettes to try to get it out. “Prax!”
“Yank and go! I need your arms, Crash!” Prax fired back, stepping slightly away just in case as well.
“Careful!” Denati shouted.
With a jerk, Crash Guard plucked one of them from his chest plate; luckily, with no following detonation. “Whoa! Okay!” He yelled in relief as he tossed the dart away.
“Not this way, you sodding-” Denati’s voice was drowned out by the snap of the Matriarch’s Light finally spooling up her engines to leave.
Listening to the growing panic in the exchange, the Hunter's antennas shivered as the vibration of the ship engines began to engage; their hum swelling quickly for a speedy ascent. They were running out of time… But gritting their fangs, they knew they still had a chance. Replacing the cylindrical magazine on the top of their flechette launcher, they slipped their clawed servo to put the empty magazine back between their plates and readied a magnetic charge.
Looking back from the two Specialists pulling their quills away, Praxis swelled a breath as the ship came to life; the ramp began to lift as the engines tuned for takeoff. After being shoved off the ramp by Treads, then staggered by the energon explosion, N’vek was still struggling to claw her digits onto the ship. Short on time, she rolled her limbs finally onto the lifting ramp, exhausted already from everything. As the walkway lifted, she glanced her sore optics towards the group on the launch pad; giving a shared gaze with Praxis, she shook her head with a frown before sliding into the safety of the ship.
“Alright!” The group's new Medic yelled from Mobius’ side. “The Light’s heading off! We need to leave!”
As Montera’s ship began to lurch away, Praxis only then looked back to the remaining group. “Right.” He nodded, pulling his thoughts back to their mission finally. “Is Mobius out?”
“No,” Denati growled as she lifted the still writhing femme from the floor. “I can save her. If we leave NOW!”
“Yes. Good call!” Praxis steeled himself. “You two! Pile in!”
“A moment!” Crash Guard hollered back, plucking the rest of the flechettes from his comrade before turning towards the transport.
The whistle of a magnetic charge rang out, a glowing disk curved through the air towards them, the puck shape spinning by the flick of a wrist in a way to make its mark; the Hunter wasn’t done. While Scythe was still behind the cover of the transport, the thing homed in on its arch and followed Crash Guard’s mass. With a metallic clang, the disk charge stuck itself to his chest plate just below the Autobot’s chin.
“Crash!” Prax yelled.
The large framed bot shrieked as he went into a blind well of fear, his servos frantically trying to grip the damned thing.
“No!” Steel Scythe yelled as he rushed around the transport to help; he wasn't going to let his friend meet the same fate as Sun Thief.
“Get it off!”
“Move your-”
“Use a blade, damn it!” Denati added with a grunt, carrying the scout to the other side of the craft; Mobius had seen enough injuries.
“Screw the blade!” Crash yelled, getting desperate.
Heeding his brother’s words, Steel Scythe forced his clawed digits into Crash’s chestplate and tore it away with a proper grip. “You Cogsu-”
In just a blink after removal, the explosive detonated violently in Scythe's grip; the blast consumed both of the Specialists with enough force to lift the transport from the ground. Staggering from the shockwave, Denati caught a glance of Praxis getting blown off his peds as the shadow of the lifting craft swiped over her. Yelling in shock, the Medic did her best to shove herself away, leaving only enough time to toss Mobius forward as the transport crashed down onto her. As the vehicle rolled over to crush Denati’s legs, the scout again met the launch plate in a pained heap; her voice growling out in sobs as she heaved.
It all happened so fast; Praxis scraped along the ground on his chest plates. In such a short span, he had lost his four squad mates to one Decepticon; the viciousness of the Hunter soured their core. They had pressed so much to make sure his wife had escaped, and finally, he looked up to see the Matriarch’s Light picking up speed down the launch lane. They had seen it through at the cost of their own team…
On sore legs, he stood, looking back and taking stock of the two bots alive with him. He’d just have to get the transport off of his new medic before… The howling of the Hunter’s Alt engine hit his audials.
Looking over just in time, he caught a quick sight of the rushing Decepticon leaping into their Alt form to race down the launch lane for Montera's ship. His core sank; the Hunter would get to the ship if he didn't stop them. He had to stop them. Shoving himself off, he painfully spun into his own VTOL alt form and hurried his engines as hard as he could to catch the Con.
With their engine screaming, the Hunter roared off down the runway to catch the ship. Their engines had just begun to flare up for final acceleration and take off, leaving them precious time to claw their way on. They had to catch Montera; their entire search to reclaim the All Spark was at stake if her group left the planet themselves… They had the means to find it just as well as Megatron had.
With the sense of the undying hunt, they readied themselves to claw their way through the damned hull; their gap quickly closing as they rocketed for the rear of the ship. The heat of the engines started to disturb the air around the area as the vessel throttled up finally to leave. As their feverish optics began to haze by the glow of the engine, the Con was surprised by a sudden rush from behind. Call it desperation or the thrill of the chase, they hadn't noticed the VTOL frame charging after them, and now the whistling of several missiles coming down behind them.
In a flash, Praxis' missiles struck the launch surface almost perfectly on the Hunter’s flank. The harsh detonation was enough force to sweep the Con off their wheels, sending them through the air towards the drop-off edge of the launch lane. Unfolding themselves desperately, they scrambled their sharply tipped digits against the metal surface to no avail. Unable to stop their momentum, a curse left their maw as they flailed over the edge to the city levels far below.
Now that Montera’s ship was lifting to leave the launch lane, Praxis landed to a quick halt, skidding on his peds to stop at the surface edge. Glancing down to see the falling shape disappearing into the district’s haze below, he breathed a sting of relief as they watched the large vessel gain enough speed to lift from the surface of the laneway into an upward arc from the city. Stepping back just a pace, he grimaced as his optics followed along their flight path. The air detection network should see them as nothing more than a regular freighter; several Meta-cycles of work culminating in this window for them. In reality, the window was really for the two teams of specialists and their covert departure from the planet. Given the chance to give to his love on her own mission, he had held back to make sure they were off, though the weight of its cost tugged at his core.
Glancing back towards their rolled and inflamed transport, a wash of frustration tainted his processor; they couldn’t have predicted that Hunter showing up like they had, and now there was no more time he could delay. The first team had left already, and now he had to face his own departure. With a sour frown, Praxis folded himself back into his VTOL form and made a quick pace for the short path away to his own ship.
The sound of the rushing orbital engines leaving the surface was quickly drowned out by air rushing past the Hunter’s audials as they fell through the city’s haze. The sting of the moisture in the air on their scorched flank reminded them of just a brief moment of tunnel vision; the ignorance of desperation to catch that ship. Now there were only a few breaths of time they could fall as they continued to barrel for the streets still far below… They were not going to die today, not to gravity…
Twisting themselves along the stream of air, the Hunter drew their Spiker and Ion Cannon and trained them away from the building zipping by. Firing both simultaneously, using the recoil from each to push their momentum backwards towards the only nearby structure of reference. After several shots, they twisted around once more, driving their dual blades into the racing metal wall before they made impact. With as good an angle as they could to not break their blades or limbs, the heated edge cut into the building enough to slow their weight as they fell.
Growling out, they yelled as the pistons and cables in their arms ached. Now that they had their blade etching the side of the structure, they ignored the abrasion as they pressed their other limbs against the wall, digging in whatever points or claw tips they could to spread their friction out. Straining and positioning themselves as they sparked along, they watched as flakes of their body and blades glowed and wore away as they slowed, closer to the bottom.
With moments to spare, they dug their searing blades deeper into the building and dragged their pace down as much as they could, just in time to meet a series of maintenance pipes and frames going between the buildings. Flailing their glowing digits, they snapped their free servo over to grip one of the sections, yanking themselves painfully to an abrupt stop. Between their blades and their grip, they dangled freely there for several moments, their chassis heaving with heavy breaths and surges as the hot fluid in their lines moved with purpose. With a bit of a head rush, they looked down to see a courtyard just a few heights below, a much safer and survivable drop in comparison.
Exhaling behind their mask, they ignored all of the shouting and concerned civilians below before taking a moment to gather their strength. After several breaths, they drew their blades from the building's wall and hung in exhaustion for a moment to calculate the best way down. Their tired and still hot glowing digits failed them, trembling from the stress, slipping from the maintenance frame, only to let them fall. At least they wouldn't reach terminal velocity this time.
Bracing for the best, they flailed a bit before colliding with the barely sloped roof of one of the entrances to the base of the launch tower. Their frame harshly struck its surface, crashing and sparking off to the street below. Twisting to catch themselves well enough, the Hunter was able to tuck their legs to roll themselves into a few staggered, sore strides before collapsing beside one of the decorative courtyard pieces. Crumpling to the ground, they stayed still where they fell, wordlessly embracing the safety of the ground once more.
“By Primus! They just fell from the launch pad!” Someone shouted.
“How did they survive that?!” Another one said.
Closing their optics for a moment, they grimaced; now they knew their rest would be short-lived with all the bystanders. Luckily, the friendly sounds of thrusters eased themselves down to the street nearby; immediately from the sound, the Hunter recognized them.
“Back off, everyone.” Blitzwing projected sternly. “I have them.”
A short series of murmuring groans and sighs sounded from around as the crowd dispersed; the Decepticons were not the most popular in all of the still functioning districts of Cybertron. Paying no mind to that, the Seeker knelt beside the motionless Hunter.
“You know, Reaper…” They started, a smirk on their mouth. “There are easier ways to die if you are so determined to do so.”
“Spare me.” The Hunter replied.
“Like you spare yourself a thruster pack?”
Groaning audibly, they rolled now onto their back for a moment, exhausted from the fight.
“Oh, that bad?” Their friend replied. “Your digits even got filed down from your fall.”
“They’ll reforge…” Reaper blinked. “...Why did you not stop the ship?”
Passing a bit of an amused look, Blitzwing shook their head. “What am I going to do? Chase a Star Runner down myself?”
They couldn’t argue that.
“I saw you fall and adjusted course…”
“Noble…” They hummed softly, building their strength.
Blitz’ smirk faded, giving them a harder look. “You’re no good to me cold.”
Hearing that, Reaper softened a little, finally looking over to them.
“Now, come on.” The Seeker stood, extending his servo towards them.
Taking grip with their own digits, Reaper eased themself up with some help. The pistons in their legs were so tender from the fall. “Might I ask for a lift?”
“Anything for you… Dramatic Hunter.” Blitz scoffed, letting Reaper turn from him before wrapping their arms around their frame.
With a widened stance, the Seeker carried the both of them up from the unkept Niconia streets. Cutting through the lingering city haze, Blitz softly brought his thrusters down to not put any more strain on either of them upon landing. Adjusting on their peds, Reaper shook themselves back into focus as they scanned the vitals of what was left of the skirmish. Eight dead; two fading. Shaking their head, Reaper led both of them to confirm all of that.
Going from body to body, Reaper made sure each of their sparks had actually been extinguished. As much brutality as they offer with each hunt they take, the cold face of mortality was to be respected; death was inevitable for every living thing, regardless of lifespan or otherwise. If they were to expedite those between him and his target, they would guarantee a clean passing at the bare minimum. All of these fallen, Autobot, civilians, or whichever, deserved the same… Just as they pray one day another might grant the same to them.
Making their way to the smoldering transport after checking on the others, the two were drawn in by the struggling groans of the two surviving Autobots. Mobius was hardly present behind her optics, while Denati had remained trapped under the wreckage of the transport; at least they had been able to spin their torso around to be upwards, as they fruitlessly tried to shove themselves from their disabled legs.
At the sight of both of them, the medic gave a rolling laugh. “Well… If it isn’t the pretty little white mask and their favorite kite…” Defiant as always, she knew she was going to die… She just would be cackling the whole way.
Holding off a swell of disgust from Blitzwing with a lifted servo, Reaper ignored the comment as they extended what was left of their dual blades. Worn down from their use on the surface of the building, they were now another thing to be repaired and reforged; they could re-engrave the preferred pattern later, but for the time being, they were long enough to finish Mobius. Kneeling carefully beside the small femme, they eased the Autobot onto their back to look into their flickering optics. A tired panic swelled from what was left of her, seeing the Hunter return; their digits weakly moving towards Reaper’s grip.
“Fade in peace.” They spoke, their voice soft and tender with that of a passing prayer, before driving the worn blades delicately between her chest plates. Holding them still, they kept the lengths of sharpened metal firmly seated through her core until she grew still.
Hanging their head for a moment, Reaper sighed; they had kept them waiting long enough. Despite the earlier optimism of the medic, the injuries sustained by this scout were grave. She wouldn’t have survived anyway with them leaving as they planned; it was unlikely she’d survive even with a full medical suite planet-side. Standing sorely, they now turned their attention to the last.
“Praxis left you both…” They growled softly as they approached, shaking Mobius’ fluids from their blades. “Why?”
“Had an exit to catch…” Denati answered with a grin, but behind her optics, she was angered by the same question.
“I’m sorry.” Reaper sighed, shooting a glance at Blitzwing as he continued.
“You should be sorry that you didn’t catch her.”
The heat on her words soured their mood for this bot. “He could not have saved at least you before leaving?” Ignoring the comment, they drilled their question once more.
The medic looked away for a moment, their own optics rolling over their thoughts. “I’m not feeding your ego…” She answered, the hints of hurt in her voice… She was as furious as they were. “Go ask the cod-piece yourself.”
“I promise that I will once I find him.” Reaper gave a nod before looking towards Blitz in thought.
“Your hunt, your call…” Their Seeker answered simply. “We could take her to medical. Might still be of use like Chromia and Nas.”
“One could hope.” Reaper mulled it over, favoring the latter; death was not always warranted for-
“It must have sucked when all those Wreckers got the rest of the Long Hunters, huh?” Denati grunted, not wanting any mutual ground from these Cons. “Damn shame your little fan club’s almost gone.”
Blitzwing scowled only to turn his gaze away for a moment, receiving some data. “I have their exit frequency; a heading.” He said quietly towards Reaper.
“Your Pact… Knockoffs… Nothing more than repaints.” She spat so scandalously.
“My work speaks otherwise.” Reaper growled simply, dropping his Spiker from his gauntlet and quickly firing a trio of bolts into the downed bot; two of which split her throat and helm, ultimately silencing them without any effort.
With a quiet hum of acceptance to the cold passing, Blitzwing glanced away as they straightened for further orders.
“I’ll be leaving.” Reaper said simply, folding their battlemask to finally show their face. “Tell Starscream the hunt continues. Have Barricade and Chromia pick through this site and send me what they find.”
Grinning, the Seeker gave a soft nod. “Have fun hunting.”
Giving Blitz a little look, their face plates shifted to bear some of their fangs. “I always do.”
== THE PACT OF STEEL & STONE==
=THE PALE MASK=
God DAMN here we go!
Written by Gina, Co-written/edited by @morbid-curiosity-iguess @nika-the-hunter & Chook (The T.A.C. group c:)
The first entry into Transformer's fanfiction.
Can't W A I T to show off more! c:
Enjoy.
~Gina <3
Fighting during the Ascarian invasion of Earth, Areomin Army troops are pinned down after their APC was hit by that obvious position built by American civvies outfitted with military gear. A Marine strike team has arrived to assist and are using the APC as cover.
At the corner of Hewitt and Lombard Ave.
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This picture has been in progress one way or another since mid 2023. I’ve nearly given up on it several times. Originally it was conceived as the Ascarian pair to the Armored Patrol picture from the same year but it sort of ballooned out in scope.
Over all though, I am really happy I actually finished it and I love how it turned out. :D
Some time thinking on the worldbuilding for it too.
Not my normal thing here, but I am posting the link to my stream where I am shadow debuting the TH x Transformers crossover fic I've been working on. Come by and listen, if not I might record it and put it on youtube.
ITS TIME FOR THE TTS DEBUT OF THUNDERHEART: THE PACT OF STONE AND STEEL
A Sub-Faction of Cybertronians consisting of military veterans & Other enforcer types who followed a moral code based off of the first ancient hunting parties of their species. Known more commonly as "The Long Hunters," the group folded under the path of the Decepticons when the civil war started. While they may have not fully aligned with the Con's mission statement, they hoped that with meaningful precise tactical action, they could have helped end the war quickly to minimize civilian casualties and overall suffering...
They were unsuccessful doing so in the end, and now there is but one of their members left as the war crawls ever so slowly on. For over a hundred years, Reaper has held the Pact's crest alone, and now serves as one of the Decepticons most determined hunters...
His current hunt has led him to Earth, and now it is only a matter of time before he catches who he seeks.
Pray peace for any who stand in their way.
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A baby announcement of a Prequel fic that we should have a prologue out for by the end of the year c:
Thanks for the hyperfixation, @morbid-curiosity-iguess
Love Ya. <3
whats the ‘secret’ to getting the helmets to look right? this is my kryptonite when it comes to drawing transformers
Thank you!!
So what I recommend, is breaking every part down, starting with with the face, then a basic dome helmet where the rest of head is (basically a normal human head up until now). Then the rest is just pasting 3D shapes on top of that
You don’t have to do the complete 3D shapes everytime, but it does help to set up some guidelines (like the center of the head) so every part is where it’s supposed to be.
I know it looks complicated but it really does get easier the more you do it, eventually your brain imagines the guidelines for you. To start I recommend having a reference of who you want to draw and trace over it to break down their helm into basic shapes, as well as where these shapes line up in comparison to each other and the face.
Just you, me, and our fbi agent that’s listening in 🌹🌹 how romantic… on the bright side at least it’s not like Starscream is peeping in 🙄 maybe SDW is just a fan of these two being sweet and quieter than everyone else back at base (he’s just a nosy guy)
All things aside... I've been rolling through this post series with Reaper and his time with that gal back in the day... They are sappy for sure, but its just made me think of how we met originally... Made this edit as it was pretty close to it, albiet in a might lighter sense.
~Love you Regalia <3 You staunch bitch. (and you too, Sam)
