#skyvopp

[irradiatedwings-blog]

@skyvopp ;; cont. 

Skywarp sidled closer, just slightly, still wary of the larger jet, suspicious of anybot larger than him, really.

Still…. “Where’s it hurt?”

          Sunstorm bared his teeth at the younger mech, less aggressive & more in pure agony than anything else. His frame was half curled & he rested on one side, wings jolted out behind him & trembling as another shot of pain tore through his sensory net. He tried to control the irradiated energies coming from his frame, keeping them close to his frame & far from the wary youngling; his frame twisting in an attempt to wriggle away.

          “Pl-please don’t touch me,” he tried to snarl but it came out as a pained whine instead. “Everything hurts. But please don’t touch--will die. You will die. Just--”

          He didn’t know what else to say or do; he couldn’t hurt anyone else, Starscream said he’d make the pain stop. The memories of the lab still fresh & the scientist’s--his very creator’s--words still rung in his processors. A failure but not.

          “Make it stop,” slipped out before he could stop it.

[oftheenemiesashes-blog]

@skyvopp | Cont.

“Why, so I can work for *you*?” Skywarp scoffed, wings twitching away. “I know what Seekers do to their victims!”

                    Starscream narrowed his optics && his wings lifted in a challenge, as though he was ready to smack the youngling. But he vented a few times && pinched the bridge of his nose, deactivating his optics.

                    “You’re a Seeker, you moron,” he replied, voice dripping with frustration && annoyance. “What in the unmaker’s name are you even talking about ?? Are you on drugs ??”

[irradiatedwings-blog]

@skyvopp ;; cont.

Skywarp clicked, stirred restlessly, fins flaring, swimming sluggishly back and forth, the sleek flying-fishmer utterly bored in the dirty, too-shallow water of something that could only generously be called an aquarium.

He was hungry, too. When was he gonna get fed?

          Sunstorm hated the company that his older brother kept; most of them had more money than brains & often contained illegal practices. Starscream never fit into ‘good crowds’ & he’d quickly mentioned that Sunstorm loved fish, in an obvious attempt to get Sunstorm out of the way of their dealings.

          Not mer-creatures, but fish. As if the creatures were no different than a goldfish.

          The man--Sunstorm thought his name was Swindle--just gave a toothy grin & called for a bucket of ‘snacks for the pest’. Which was how Sunstorm now stood at a tank with a bucket of chow, & a staff member that looked less than pleased to be there.

          “You can touch it,” the man told Sunstorm, pulling out a cell phone & skimming through something. “Just throw the food in & it’ll come to the top.”

          Sunstorm glared; the water was filthy & he wasn’t about to let the poor thing eat anything that touched it, not to mention the water was shallow enough that he probably didn’t need to coax the creature out. Though the staff member was more preoccupied with other things than Sunstorm & the mer.

          Placing the bucket down, he reached a hand over the glass & made a gentle clicking noise with his tongue. “I’ve got something for you,” he spoke quietly, calling the creature to him. He didn’t know if it understood him or not, though he doubted it; the mer was obviously neglected. “I won’t hurt.”

[microscopicautobot]

(♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them) ...why are you even smaller? ~skyvop

[guH]

It’s —

[struggles]

It’s not a permanant thing.

[gotchainmycrosshairs-blog]

   New Vos wasn’t exactly a welcoming place for an ex-Wrecker or even a ground frame with as much energy as Moonracer possessed. Though no one did more than throwing glares to the squealing and excited youth, who sped from market stall to market stall. Eyeing various trinkets and weapons with an air of enthusiasm that could not be matched by any other.

   She wasn’t due back to Velocitron for another day and her trading assignment was finished, so shopping was the first thing came to mind. Trinkets for Blurr, treats for Finishline, maybe some datapads for Burnout; she had the extra credits to pull it off.

   In the middle of leaning over the counter to shove her credits at a vendor selling some sort of rare rust stick, she picked up on some chatter between two Seekers to her left. Something about letting youths run wild these days, and how Starscream should be ashamed of himself for allowing someone to wander so close to Slipstream’s territory.

   Her head swiveled around and focus came down on a rather young Seeker, who she had figured was the ire of the group next to her’s annoyance. She bit her lip then dropped a few more credits into the vendor’s servo, for a few more rust sticks.

   If anyone knew not fitting in, it was Moonracer. So, she strolled over once the items were handed off, stopping in front of the mechling and holding out the rust sticks.

   “Hey,” she greeted, EM field warm and inviting -- open to the other youth. “I bought too many like a glitch. Want these?”

[rarelyseenrarelyheard-blog]

@skyvopp - cont.

Skywarp froze, wings jerking up sharply, before he spun around, red optics cycling wide. “I’m not doing anything!” he hissed. “What are *you* doing?! Go away!” 

     Doubletake watched Skywarp through sapphire lenses, half-shadowed by the alleyway he’d been previously sneaking through. New Vos was a disease with Slipstream in charge and as such, he was sent for recon && running into a young Seeker had not been part of the plan.

     His larger frame moved forward, helm lowered && gaze remaining on Skywarp. “Don’t lie to an Enforcer,” he warned. His Kaonite accent heavy with each word but not enough to completely mangle what he was attempting to say. Well, his lies; he was no longer an Enforcer && his next statement was downright ridiculous. “I’m on patrol. Keeping snot-nosed younglings like you out of trouble.”

[coldsparked-blog]

@skyvopp -- cont.

Skywarp is going to startle, anyways, the snapped order making the Seekerlet’s wings jerk upright and quiver, before secondary instincts kicked in and he obeyed.

“Why? What is it?!”

(♔)                    He’d forgotten how much he hated jets until what appeared to be a terrified youngling was staring at him. The former courier took a few steps forward, reaching out and taking hold of the youth’s upper arm. 

“You’re --” Burnout had never been good with younglings; he was too intense, his former mate had always teased him about that. He vented in then out, loosening his grip on the youth. “You’re injured. You should be out on your own like that.”