I CAN SEE YOU

Independent IDW TF OC | OC & Canon friendly | Read rules before interacting | Navigation under header! Irondrill, or "Oracle," is a young outlier with the ability to sense and see sparks through a mech.

[theseekersuggestions]

Tell me bitter child of the earth, who tore out your heart? Who filled your lungs up with sand? Your chest is burning and your eyes are empty, who harmed you so?

[vindictive-suggestion]

The greatest fallacy is that we are too far gone to save. Rise up and we can try to fix what we’ve broken.

[sparkseer]

She remained immobile, watching him as he circled her. She was taking the defensive, for now. Her shoulders were hunched, but not tense and her hands were in fists near her chin, her feet in only a halfway broad stance. 

“No dirty fighting, so no face, crotch, or trying to break anything. Accidents are accidents, but let’s try to be careful. And last thing, no weapons, all hands and skill.” 

She smiled at that last rule, a hint of confidence glinting behind her visor. It was that last one that usually won her the street fight, because she was a frame built for raw power. A juggernaut, of sorts. 

“I can work with that,” he responded, coming to a stop as he brought his arms up. Normally, he’d concede the first strike to his opponent. This time, he didn’t, coming forwards with what seemed to be a straight strike aimed towards her left shoulder.

It’s a well-veiled draw, however, as when he comes in close, his other, lower hand attempts to deliver a firm, connecting strike to her lower torso. He’s a little stronger than he looks, but such could be said for a lot of mechs- His real specialty was agility and pursuit predation. Granted, neither would serve him incredibly well right here.

[sparkseer]

electange:

The Outlier stares at the other mech with a questionable look in his optic. A part of him was appreciative that the mech was in one piece and had just saved his life, but the other half was so.. so furious! Without thinking, Damus shoves the mech, then immediately apologies as he recalls he was injured.

“You’re an idiot!” He cries out as he carefully lifts the mech’s arms to check for any injuries on his frame, “You could had been deeply wounded or killed. What were you thinking?!” Damus sits back, huffing as he crosses his arms, “You seem to be okay, but I’ll com Mercy to come check on you. You’re still an idiot though…”

Irondrill gave a noise between surprise and wincing pain when shoved, but didn’t really seem to mind all too much, already reassuring the apology. Aside from the large, dented impact in his chest, most of his injuries were superficial- scratches, grazed energon lines, some road burn from sliding as far as he had. It could have been far worse, but the sturdy, manual mech was probably a better candidate than the smaller, orange one fussing beside him.

“I wasn’t,” he admitted quietly. After a moment, he steadied his voice, clarifying. “I wasn’t thinking. I saw someone in trouble and moved on it. If that makes me an idiot, I’ll take it,” he said with a wincing shrug. The apparent miner allowed the other to look over his arms, not putting up much of a fuss. “I’ve walked off worse, really...”

[sparkseer]

Damus bounces with excitement, “Okay okay! Well first thing first, we need to find you a pair of crocheting needles, then we need some yarn. Both of which I have, so stay riiiiiight there while I go get them.” Scuttling out of the room, the Outlier makes a mad dash to his room, gets the supplies then runs back. He hands the materials to Irondrill, his optic beaming brightly.

“Now that you have the right materials, let’s start with the basics!” Damus grabs his own crochet needle and holds it up so that the other mech can see how he’s holding it, “This may require adjusting on your part since you have digits and I have claws, but basically you hold the needle here on the grip with your thumb and index digit.” He points to the tip of the needle with his other servo, “Now let me show you the different parts that make up the needle. This is the head, which leads to the throat then the shank. Last but not least is the handle!” Damus glances at the other mech, “Are you getting this or am I going too fast for you?”

Irondrill focuses attentively, nodding along every so often as Damus explains the needles and grip. “No, no, the pace is fine!” 

He taps the needles together, rolling his shoulders just a little as he follows along. It takes a little adjustment for him to shift the needles in his hands, before blinking. “This does explain something... I think I’ve been holding the needles wrong,” he said, holding his hand out a little towards Damus to check over. “Like this, right?” 

Truth be told, the issue he always had with anything was trying to learn entirely on his own. It was hard for a plain old datapad to correct your grip, or tell you you were using too much glue in your scale models. And the company in itself never hurt.

[mavosathra]

Meet Oracle. [Alternate version HERE]

[sparkseer]

Damus was out and about with a few other Outlier students, discussing their thoughts and plans for the Academy. Their meeting was cut short however when they all heard a sudden CHOOM. One of them cried out before they fled, leaving a very confused and rattled Damus behind. As he turns, everything seems to slow down. The Outlier catches out of the corner of his optic a large chunk of metal, hurling straight for him. He also spots another mech putting himself in the path of the giant object.

Damus wanted to protest, to yell out to the other mech, but there wasn’t any time left. The solid-looking chuck of metal creams the mech with full force on his front half. The Outlier watches in pure terror as the other mech goes flying. Once he lands, which Damus can only assume was a very rough landing, Damus runs over to him and kneels down by his side.

“Oh my goodness! Are.. are you okay?? Please say something to me if you’re okay!”

WHAP.

The heavy construction mech finds himself thrown much further than he’d anticipated, hard enough that his vision whites from impact. He’d left a short pair of trails where his excavation saws had torn through the ground before coming to a halt. He kept his optics offlined at first, screwed shut tight. After a few moments of stillness, as if processing the shock of the landing, he began to shift his arms, his legs, patting himself down with a groan. Everything felt intact. Sore, but that meant it was still attached, right?

Urgh. When Irondrill felt bold enough to try and open his optics, he found that his vision was swimming, and his audials still rang sharply. Behind it, he recognized what may have been someone trying to talk to him, and tried to shake the sensation off with a hard grimace. His vision came back into focus after a few hard blinks, staring at- or through -the outlier he’d just tried to shield from the blow. 

He manages a slightly pained grin, nodding in an attempt to set him at ease. “I... Yeah, I’ll be alright!”

[subterfuge-and-science-blog]

// Stand by, we’re having technical difficulties- May be a day or two. Trying to fix a sleep schedule while clearing a huge backlog of art is a quick road to burnout, so there may be a lapse in activity on most threads. 

[rpstartersanskboxfillers]

Send “Whoops” to my ask box, and my muse will accidentally send your muse a text that wasn’t meant for them.

[guidingguide-deactivated2013112]

Reblog if you're okay with other characters developing crushes on your characters.

[milky-shea]

I’d be flattered ^^

[kris-writes]

[seboostianillustrations-ina-blog]

[ssatxr-archive]

[sparkseer]

“Three questions to ask every authority figure. To demand, as he put it… To whose interest do you exercise your power? To whom are you accountable?” 

She paused and looked at him, then took a couple steps back, assuming a fighting stance in silent agreement of his proposal to spar. 

“And third, how can we get rid of you?”  Ironic, she thought, that the means of his beginning are becoming his downfall. She was beginning to wonder if anyone in any position of power could truly reign without corruption. So far, the answer was no. 

“And so it’s all come full circle,” Oracle said, shaking his head as he came up into a fighting stance himself. One could swear he bore a smirk of amusement under his visor- Whether it was for her choice of quote, or the impending fight, it was hard to tell. 

He began to walk, slowly, as if studying her stance. She was sturdy. Straightforwards. It wouldn’t do to rush, as she wouldn’t tire quickly like smaller mechs- the ones he often allowed to run or try to hide. With them, it was almost a game, letting them exhaust themselves before he finally put them out of their misery, but Tandem?

She was also several feet taller than him, well on par with some Phase Sixers. Not that that had ever stopped him before. He tilted his head carefully, not taking his optics off of her.

"Any rules you’d think of?”

[sparkseer]

Tandem looked at him and only gave a sad smile. “I feel like as citizens, it’s our job to question the authority and the day that we follow blindly is the day we lose control, and empathy falls through because blind followers turn into tools.” 

She was glad that they stood on the same page about the current status of the war. She wondered, however, why he sounded so afraid to voice his opinion. Was he afraid of sounding treacherous? It’s not treachery to acknowledge when something is no longer right in a long line of changing events. 

“It’s easier, I suppose, to step back and look at the whole picture though, if you were never caught in the middle.” 

“More than just citizens,” Oracle said. “...To an extent, everyone should question authority. They should all ask, who benefits from this, who is hurt by it?” He shook his head and let out a vent of air, resting a servo over his chest. “...It’s how this all began, and it’s the only way it will end... But I worry. History is repeating itself, and those who voice these opinions? They aren’t given a second chance this time around… They just disappear.”

He lowered his servo, and instead folded his arms over his torso. “I should hope that it never comes to be an immediate issue for anyone here. …You were a street fighter, you said?” Oracle, seemingly trying to change the topic, even temporarily, tilted his head with curiosity. Despite the rapid shift, the question and interest was genuine.

“Perhaps we should compare fighting styles.” 

[sparkseer]

She bowed her head and brought her hands to the front, rubbing them together to soothe her tense fingers. 

“Indeed. I stayed neutral for my sister’s sake, and she did the same for me… We never wanted to have the chance to be fighting one another on the field, I wanted to be a decepticon but she sided with the autobots. I felt like they could use someone like me, I liked his message, but anymore I feel like Megatron has lost his purpose. Is he really fighting for the public, or has it become a vendetta?” 

She looked up at the sky with a thoughtful expression, thinking about the war, the two sides. “Both sides have committed war crimes, and unforgivable acts, and they’re just going to keep adding on. Nobody is right anymore. Sometimes…” She turned to look at him and dropped her hands. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth fighting anymore.” 

Oracle slowly turned. If the mech could show surprise, he was certainly doing so now. But... It wasn’t the offended sort of surprise. Very, very slowly, he shifted his pedes as well, in order to face her fully. 

“...Not a word.... You understand.” 

The amount of times he had wondered if they’d lost the cause, wondered what everyone fought for now, wondered what purpose they still held.... Yet never had another to share the grievances with? Surely, there was a chance this was a trap, but after weighing the risk, he drew a slow vent of air in. His optics closed for half a moment as he felt around him. 

Alone. Just the two of them. He couldn’t sense another spark for quite some distance... Still, when he spoke next, his words were incredibly quiet. They bore the gravity of a mech who had perhaps been sitting on this for years.  “...I’ve been asking myself the same for so long that I can’t recall when it first crept into my thoughts.”

[sparkseer]

She looked at him from the corner of her vision. That was a suspicious thing to ask. Or not, if she considered he might just be starting friendly banter. She wished she knew where to stand with him. 

“You’re not too far off. The neutrals back on cybertron, before the evacuation, they needed some entertainment and my sister and I needed credits. Helios is a professionally trained medic, so I thought taking on street fighting could be beneficial with little danger to myself with such capable hands around. My size helped me out, but it was skill building that made me dangerous.” 

She smiled slightly at the fond memories of victories and fair losses. “And yourself?” 

He chuckled. The sound was amused, but curt. When he spoke up, the tone was fondly reflective, yet somehow still held that reserved, collected edge to it. “Kaon, of course. It’s why I asked- You have that certainty in your step, but I didn’t recall your name among the lists.”

He took a pause to glance upwards, before explaining. “...When the Jhiaxian Academy fell apart, some of us who got out of it with our faculties and forms intact didn’t have anywhere else to go. When we grew desperate, the pits were a popular place to turn to... Especially for those of us who had purple in our sparks and little to lose.”

“..A damnable shame what it turned into outside of Megatron’s influence,” he muttered.

[sparkseer]

Tandem nodded her head once in respect as she approached. “I saw you by your lonesome, mind if I extend myself an invitation?” She stood next to him with her hands folded behind her back. There was a fair space between her and his shoulder than wasn’t just height. It was more for the unknown, not knowing him well, and for personal space. The air felt restless, and while it was nice to relax on breaks like this, sometimes travel made you want to move. 

Especially when you’re stuck with a couple of rusted out nutcases. Oracle seemed like the only one sane on that ship, besides herself, and she appreciated moments where she could be quiet or hold coherent conversation with him. It made things feel less crazy, even for a moment. 

“By all means,” he responded, lowering his arms to look back over the docking ports as small, mostly personal crafts flitted in and out of the bays. But despite turning away, the terse air remained. Questions hung in the silence, and after a moment of deliberation, he felt no reason to hold them back. 

“...How long have you been fighting? If I didn’t know better, I would almost assume you had a gladiator’s experience.”

His head tilted downwards and to the side, as if to watch her from the corner of his eye after asking. More out of courtesy than ‘side-eyeing’ her, if his stance was anything to go off of. 

[sparkseer]

Post-Spark Transfer Oracle’s Voiceclaim would most likely be Darth Jadus from SW:TOR (click). ( Spoilers for the Imperial Agent questline first arc if you watch this video through to the end. )

[sparkseer]

“Spar” (Tandem and Oracle?)

[ @clicks-and-whirs ] 

The Veiled Opportunity had come in to dock at some faraway outpost, hidden away in an inconsequential corner of the galaxy. The engines needed to recalibrate and spool up for the next set of jumps, for one, and for two, Oracle was almost certain that Trickwire would blast a hole in the hull if he was kept inside for another hour. 

And so, under strict agreement that they weren’t to cause a scene and weren’t to do anything that would cause them to be well-remembered, the group had been turned loose for some much-needed air and recreation time. 

Oracle, himself? Some habits never died. He’d been quick to find a remote overlook with a good view, hoping that the quiet may help to clear his head, but the stillness just didn’t sit right today. He seemed to move as if he were about to do.. something, grab an object or turn around, but he stopped as he heard the tap of pedes approaching. He didn’t require his sight to recognize the weight and cadence. 

“Tandem,” he said, expectantly.