Starscream is definitely the shady lawyer type. Prosecution, probably. I also get the sense he would ride a motorcycle or fancy sports car. Maybe a cybertruck to flaunt his wealth.
I didn't draw the other seekers(because they look exactly like him). And I just never felt like coming up with various similar-but-different human designs for them either.
Slipstream always struck me as being Starscream's ambition in the same way the others represented his various traits. I doubt that was the intention, but it's better than the alternative imo.
Anyway, she seems like the type of person to become a lawyer and oppose Starscream in every case she could. If he's a prosecuting attorney, she's a defense attorney. She's just petty like that.
Elita is the adventurous to the point of recklessness type. Black Arachnea is more femme fatale.
The human AU lore is still sorta vague. But the idea is that she got in some kind of accident that caused her to go bald(she wears a wig) and lose weight. Something involving radiation, maybe? Her health is bad, basically. Still toying with the idea of making her some kind of vampire-esque mutant. But idk how supernatural I want to go.
since i’m trying to give Oliver a much more prominent voice in the story, i’m writing a lot of new stuff for chapter 2 and !!! well i want to share the first part of it. i think that if you’ve read my lizzie stark fic, then you’ll especially appreciate it!!
:
Spring in Amberly is sweet and quiet. In the valley between mountains, the snow still lingers in the shade like dying glaciers, despite bright green buds near bursting on the trees. The breeze that blows in from the east is almost warm, almost dry, caressing the exposed skin of Oliver’s neck. It twirls through the open air, hardly obscured by any buildings or trees. The little town is, after all, nearly two miles behind him now, and all that lays before him is gently sloping farmland.
The dirt road beneath his feet turns into paved stone as he climbs the hill toward his destination: a manor, just a dark speck at the base of the mountain, dusty purple against the sharp, blue sky. Mountain flowers sway as another warm gust blows through the valley, the distant call of a hawk carried on the breeze. Oliver closes his eyes briefly to commit the sounds and smells to his memory before carrying on with more haste.
His trunk is heavy in his hand - he is returning with more in it than he left with - and it makes the scars on his shoulder ache. Oliver bears the discomfort, knowing that the faster he makes it up the hill, the sooner he’ll be able to relax. As more definite shapes of the manor and its lovely landscape take shape, the front door opens and a shrill voice rings out across the wide space, full of glee.
“He’s back!”
A grin splits across his face as a figure in a full skirt comes tearing out of the house, flying down the hill towards him. She’s fast, even in her skirts, and Oliver barely has time to set down his trunk and brace for impact before she barrels into his chest, throwing her arms around him.
“Welcome back!” she cries jubilantly into his jacket, squeezing him tightly.
Oliver laughs, and wraps his arms around her shoulders to return the hug. Her hair is soft against his cheek, and she smells like she’d been sitting in a perfume bath for the last two days. “Thank you, Lizzie.”
She steps back after another moment, beaming up at him, her auburn hair falling out of its fancy braids from her dash down the hill. He softens at her familiarity, at the comfort she brings with her easy acceptance of him; he’d forgotten how much he missed her. “I missed you! You’ve been gone for ages!”
He grins, bending down to pick his trunk back up. “I know; I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Her eyes light up as she claps her hands together excitedly and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Presents?!”
He laughs again. “Maybe.” His smile turns into a grimace as his shoulder protests under the weight of his trunk; he drops it in surprise and shakes out his arm.
Lizzie tsks at him and swats his hand away when he reaches for it again, this time with his other arm. “Here, let me help.”
“I can carry my own things,” he protests.
“I know you can,” she says calmly, “but there are things in here that are mine now, aren’t there?” She flashes him a toothy grin and begins trotting back towards the manor, seemingly at ease even under the weight of the trunk. It isn’t light, full of books and trinkets as it is. He doesn’t know when she got so strong. “No take backs!”
“Oliver!”
He glances up towards the sound of his name to see Katie standing on the front steps of the manor, waving erratically at him. Her smile is so big he can see it from here. Behind her, Adam stands with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorway. Oliver grins and waves back at both of them, keeping pace with Lizzie.
As they finally near the steps, Katie clambers down them and throws herself at Oliver for a bone-crushing hug. He returns it happily, giving her a brief kiss on her hair. As though feeling her gaze, he looks up at the third story window to see Lady Stark glaring down at him, full of haughty disgust. When their eyes make contact, she turns away and disappears, the window growing dark with her absence.
“The old lady giving you the evil eye?”
Oliver looks at Adam who remains against the door. “I think she hates me more every time I come back.”
“Of course she does,” Adam says. “Just when she thinks she’s finally gotten rid of you, here you are.” He opens his arms, gesturing to Oliver’s very presence.
Katie pulls back from Oliver and glares at Adam. “You’re not very reassuring.”
Lizzie laughs breathlessly as she hauls the trunk up the last step before setting it down. “If mother hasn’t scared him away yet, it’s probably not going to happen at all.”
Adam finally pushes away from the door and approaches Oliver, skipping the last step with boyish grace. He comes to Oliver’s side and slaps his back, laughing out an apology when Oliver winces, and then hooks his hand tightly at the back of Oliver’s neck. “Alright you. We’ve got some catching up to do. Lizzie, have Ada put Kenton’s things in his old room.”
“Whatever you say, brother dear.” Lizzie gives Adam a proper military salute and then barges back through the front door with a loud and brash, “Ada!”
Katie bounces back up the steps. “I’ll get some tea started,” she says happily before following her sister into the house.
Oliver pats Adam on the back a little awkwardly. He’d never known how to handle outward affection since he’d grown up half isolated and orphaned. Adam’s closeness, however welcome it is, leaves Oliver unsure of himself. He makes to pull away, but Adam suddenly pulls him into a hug.
“You could at least send us letters,” Adam says when he lets go and steps back. His words are accusatory, but his expression is bright and open. “We never know where you are, so it’s only right that you should send them to us.”
Oliver waves him away and starts up the front steps of the manor. He doesn’t have time to write letters when he’s away, and he thinks briefly that he doesn’t deserve the Starks warm hospitality at all. “I can’t promise anything.”
