a post by Blast Off has been created, @ ReanimatedRussian , regarding a battle file recovered from a moment in the war. his posts are rare & few, only posting/reposting media promoting combaticon/Onslaught propaganda & pretty pictures taken while floating around in space. the few text only posts are reminders when certain space anomalies are going to take place, such as checking the sky for a full moon. he had to turn QRTs off on these posts as bots would not stop replying to it with 'YEAH. THERE *IS* a FULL MOON OUT TONIGHT! ..MINE!' & then showing their afts. it was very disgusting. blitzwing started it & will never be forgiven .
@ reanimatedrussian wrote : WHO DARE CUT THE AUDIO OF MY GLORIOUS (king) LEADER, ONSLAUGHT ? HE WAS NOT FINISHED SPEAKING. THIS IS INSULT TO HIS INTELLECTUALISM. ЭТО ОЧЕНЬ ПЛОХО. WHY IS MOVING PICTURE SO FAULTY ? IS THIS THE WONDERS OF 'TECHNOLOGY ?' THIS DISTURBS ME GREATLY. I DEMAND RETRIBUTION. PLEASE FIX THIS IN POST. YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES .
( all of his posts are written in all caps to avoid spelling errors since he cannot see the keys well even though Swindle zoomed the font in on max for him . he doesn't make many text posts due to this . embarrassed . )
- swindle commented : i can't believe my gorgeous golden gloves had to, eurgh, make BASIC CONTACT with an AUTOBOOB! & a BALD one at THAT!! this is why i use SUPERSHAMPOO! it's like human shampoo but for SHINY METAL! & when i say SHINY METAL, i mean SHIIII--EEEYEEE-KNEE! WOO! i'm having difficulties even typing this from the pristine glow of my perfect gloves, all thanks to SUPERSHAMPOO! sold in stores local to you. speaking of difficulties typing, blast off, to circle back on my previous email, this brand new optic application is SPARK CHANGING for a SPARE CHANGE price ! picture thi- ( he then proceeded to plug in many, many other side hustles here . )
a new post by @ futureQBmvpBlitzwing1, to all his social medias where his only followers are the ( digital ) cambots who he thinks are real & has been unsuccessfully trying to rizz, & astrotrain, who blocks him then refollows because he's bored. blitzwing is Not following astrotrain . he only follows sports - related accounts, such as the NFL .
' SINDAY is only on SUNDAY ?? nahhh, maybe if you're FUCKING UGLY . like, i dunno, your mirror. or each & every single one of the constructicons . constructacons? con-WHATEVER. I HATE THEM!!!
point I'M TRYING TO PUNCTUATE HERE IS :
every day is a sin when you're hotter than hell . heh . like Me . XOXO call me, fine hot super fyre ( 🔥🔥🔥 ) femmes ( 💜💛💜💛 )
here is my credit card information . ' ( hd HUD image of his private financial information ) ( all of his recent purchases are just footballs, sports posters of muscular men, sports memorabilia, & also a winter wonderland model village with a polar express train set as early anonymous holiday drop offs for a certain somebot, as well as new unopened collectible items to replace the ones that he gnawed on from another annoying triple he swears he can't stand either . )
zero likes, 1000 comments telling him to offline himself, 5000000 comments scamming him
with that attitude, you are not bagging astrotrain .
no wonder that astrotrain got a different huzz yo
“ . . . ‘ bag ? ' ..Astrotrain ? ”
Scarlet shadowed optics shift uncertainly around their shaded view, an unsure smirk sliding up his face like an undesirable snake lurked within Eden’s Garden.
“ . . do they even make bags big enough to fit that bitch ? “
lower jaw stayed static in its smile while his upper jaw & face flew backwards, unhinging deep into its gaping laugh, all the different kinds of dentae jammed disgustingly inside whirling & pulsating from his giggle that haunted exactly how hyenas cackled free in the wild. Bright, burning, liquid light disturbed its smelted lava, bubbling on one side, clashed against a torrid tundra of cold on the other, each element locked inside his body for an eternal struggle, shining when he spread his splitted smile.
His cracked open skull slammed shut, grimaced with a far more genuine frown .
“ No, seriously, what the frag does that oversized spark, & whatever newfound shitty excuse for being too soft to survive now, have to do with Me? Do I have to spell it out for you? Because- surprise, I can. It’s not that fucking hard, you should try it sometime. Maybe for Christmas, you should’ve asked for a book about the ABCs .”
His dentae rotated, flattened & unimpressed frown locked while his grimy innards slid around inside, switching which set he should settle on like a rich girl spinning through her futuristic closet to see whether she was feeling chartreuse or cyan today. The winner was a glaring middle gap denta.
“ You’re all starting to sound like Shockwave, which is an absurd comparison to even say aloud, since you’re all as dumb as a box of rocks, but, really, if you ask me, so is he, so I guess it actually makes sense .”
Snickering at the verbal shot he managed to score on the scientist, it’s about celebrating the little wins, sometimes, & Blitzwing Loves to Win . His snickering stops itself short, optics narrowed.
“ But I’ll tell you the same shit I’ve been telling him to try & get that aggravating, one-opticed, purple-people eater OFF my FUCKING back: I don’t give a DAMN about a SINGLE mech here, triple-changer, quadruple-changer, career changer, I DON’T CARE! They can do WHATEVER THE PIT THEY WANT WITH EACH OTHER! As long as it doesn’t fuck with ME or prolong their STUPID POINTLESS WAR, I REALLY *DON’T* care. I’m just here to take aft & kick designations aside, or- what..WHATEVER STUPID SCRAP MECHA SAY ! “
Smoke & visible cold swirled around the stubborn tankjet, squeaking as they popped up some of his rusted plating .
“ Our models being the same busted junk to be broken & brushed by when it inevitably breaks down itself doesn’t HAVE to make us all ‘buddy buddy’ & ‘OMP! Let’s form a ThErApY CiRcLe!!!!’ WHO GIVES a FUCK? This is WAR. This is BATTLE. I don’t HAVE any buddies in battle, & I don’t WANT any.
Comradery in the core of cruelty serves NOTHING but YOURSELF, just another decorated distraction for the bastards above to know we’re occupied & complacent with MORE than just CLASHING SWORDS. “
Blitz waved his half ice, half flaming scimitar as if it were nothing more than a toy, a toy that tore into anything it touches harshly.
“ ‘ oH! Well! YES! We ARE still trying to win the DOOMED YAOI wildfire right now, & YES! We STILL haven’t achieved anything of ACTUAL STRIDE geared toward ACTUAL SUCCESS JUST YET! Buuuuut! ….Now, you can clash your upstairs sword… AAND your …’ “
Salesmech tone that sounded similar to Swindle’s low silk softened with the animated ice etching in an arc across his visor, mimicking a cheeky wink before it melted.
“ ‘ INSERT AN AUTHENTIC I TOTALLY CARE ABOUT YOUR CONCERNS GASP HERE. … Downstairs sword. YEEEP! With your BEsT BUDDY! Because, apparently, working mech can have those now? WHAT!! This is CRAAzy! This is like when I learned cows can have best friends! HOW CUUUTEE, AWWW! Anyway, hope you stupid fucks have fun! I’m gonna go order five hundred Big Macs from McDonald’s now, comm me if you need meeee ! ….Don’t need me . ‘ “
Cartoonish croon having completed its sarcastic chastising, he sheathed his blade & set his servos on his tank treaded hips, glowering down with all the disgruntlement of a towering dragon disappointed at the wimpy knight sent to slay her.
“ So if the other triples wanna fuck around all their off day, hell, even fuck each other? They can do whatever the pit they want, it’s their life they’re wasting, & not my time, plus? How much waste is really wasting when it’s The Waste themselves wasting away? There’s a tongue twister for you, twerp. So, yeah, if they wanna twist tongues, it’s less jabber clogging my comms .”
He spat, arms crossing, wings relaxing from their waving fit.
They tensed shortly after, never really relaxed.
Not in here, not under another mech’s watch. Not unless he was showcasing why they shouldn’t watch too closely.
“ So what if I sit alone & they bother each other elsewhere on the few breaks we, & by we, I mean– I* managed to score for us-ME? It’s not like our schedules will magically always align themselves together for another 200 millenia again, it’d be pointless for us to meet ‘meaningfully’ once like it matters then never again until- fucking- forever. I know damn well that I’m not indulging in any deep conversations with a mech that finds TRAINS to be FUN . Mech offline like it’s going out of style, & I’m not wasting my TIME on WASTE ITSELF just so *I* can LIE to myself & SAY i’m ‘FULFILLED’ with my FUCK ass LIFE. This is WAR. I could be scrapped by spring & no one would sense a thing! THAT’S JUST HOW IT GOES. It doesn’t matter how loud you talk or how quiet or how many spikes you can suck at once to make mecha ‘not mind’ you, it’s WAR. We’ll be forgotten soon if we can’t tell our own story, & the only ones who can are, duh, the ones gripping the pen in a FIST. So, yeah, I don’t care. I really don’t. So what? So freaking what . Let them have a freak off. Let them fuck off! They are FRUITFLIES in the optic of WAR, and WAR is BLIND . “
Visor splitting, his fire heating up the glass & the instant cold lapping after it expanding the material chemically until it cracked, the edges of an icy blue optic bared frantic beneath its revealed fright.
Blitzwing twisted his body to the other side, wings raised above his broad back, physically cloaking his face .
“ I don’t care about Astrotrain. I don’t care about Octane, I don’t care what we’re doing, I don’t care how we got here, we’re just here now. & it doesn’t matter if we like it or not, or who likes who, or who doesn’t, because I don’t care.
& you’re lucky that I don’t, because you wouldn’t still be standing here with a helm on your shoulders if I did . “
Covering the crack in his visor with the scimitar he slid sharply, smoothly, from its scabbard, he knelt down on powerful thighs sculpted like a pro (football player), pointing out by his opposite servo & pressing an index digit into the other’s forehelm.
Pushing the helm back just by a teasing tap, mannered similarly to an older brother jabbing his point across, except the older brother had teeth that could cleave your brain from your skull if you kept crossing him.
“ Na’mean .”
( know what I mean ? )
He punctuated with another poke, smiling, simply reflecting the cadence without any real cruelty, contrasting the rough actions he displayed.
( a purple servo set to his hip, his typical brutish vocoder fry tinging into accosted valley girl setting, feeling the very fabric of her popular girl world being disrupted by the presence of another . )
& WHO THE FrAG DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TRYING TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT ??
i'm seeing THREE ( raising two icicle-encased digits before realizing & swiftly adjusting to extend a third. upset & embarrassed at his own stupid mistake, he shook his servo rapidly to strategically confuse the shorter & hopefully make him forget about what he saw . ) MISTAKES with your INFERIOR analysis here !
ONE ! you * Are * one ! . . HAHA ! ( interrupting his villainy to revel in it, a sporadically short hyena laugh at his own read )
TWO ! THE * OnLY* thing WE miGht have in COMMON, is that we'll both DIE one day, & YOURS has a deactivation date coming SOON ! to a THEATERS near --- you ! HA !
ThiRD, & FINAL ( 😮☝🏿 ‼️ ) , the PROPER phrase is : WhY do * YOU * look like * ME * --
I - ,,, UH - ( 💧) (??!) ( squinting . that sounded the exact sa- * it was the exact same-) COMING FROM *MY* PERSPECTIVE. MY VIEWPOINT. i MEAN.
. . . ( steaming up on one side, cold fog billowing out the other . their respective collections ushering out either sides of his helm like a train whistles' asthmatic cry . servos clenched . )
YOU GET THE POINT . ( venting hot & cold air so he elaborate the explanation anyways )
WE LOOK * NOTHING * alike . are you TRYING to be funny , or does your dead end job just have you STUCK AS a CLOWN ? ?
( the superior triple leaned down to bless the leper, shaking a balled up, boiling hot, left servo in the mech's face, though not making any contact yet. he didn't want the little ugly ugly choking as his own dentae while the irritated tankjet demanded answers . )
" shit, if You don't know, i don't know, babe. we're Triples, not Twins, if we had a telepathetic tether, i would Not be here.
i'd be in Hell . . . & that's only if they'd have me, HuAaHAHAA! !
but, hey, if you ever do find him, tell me how his spike tastes, since you wanna suck on it so bad . HaAaHaHAHaAHAA !!! "
. . . ......
" okay, but seriously . what is it . what's up . did something happened ??? he mess up a mission ? collided into a comet? blast off bump into him ? what's going on. i kinda need to know these things . so i can laugh about them later, you know. so it's sort of important, you know, my sadism, & whatnot-- sooo-- . . . ( 💧 )
uh, what's going on . . . ? "
1000 unique ways to ask if somebot's okay without actually asking if they're okay .
blitzwing roused wearily, only drawing up to his knees. letting a long yawn blearily rip through his rusted intake, he arched his spinal strut into a low slope and straightened his limbs out in front of him like a cat ready to pounce. instead, he leans forward instead of backwards onto his knees and shakes one leg at a time, first shaking off the icicles that collected over his frozen right side, then the crevice clotting soot from the left, coughing out a little ball of smoke with snowflakes sparkling amidst the hack. primus- he only meant to offline for a Second . . now it's pitch dark outside & his helm has a tight panging . . he was Supposed to ' work out ' today, but . .-
. . . too damn cold to be doing stuff anyways . his shivering left muttered . the right frown of his lips simply stayed flatlined, fine with the freeze.
rising only to be on all fours so he could pad a tight little circle around his makeshift nest of comfort items, an awful amalgamation of stolen sports equipment ( mainly footballs ).
nuzzling the football as if it were a pillow, trying his best to handle it gentle as he could before- WHOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHMMMmmmmhhh- ... . .
another football has been smited.
harrumphing back down to curl up with a football. it's too cold and he's too alone .
