Snow Stalker

@vigil-is-here

An owlcon, not much more. Purely sfw (gore is okay) OOC; 20 he/him

221 posts

Introduction Post

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Designation: Vigil

Affiliation: Decepticon

Alt. Mode: Jet (E-2 Jet Inspired)

Known behavior: Occasionally aggressive, reclusive, and observant

Misc: also known as an Owlcon, Vigil lives up to the nickname; quiet and formidable, not much else is known about this mech outside of this, expect that he works for someone and is loyal to them.

Crimes: 404 ERROR

Don't try again

Shutting down

"Another day alive; is another day those who wished for my downfall, must face the fact they can't hold me down."

Rules; I'm open to pretty much everything, just no 18+ stuff. I'm purely sfw (gore is okay) here! I prefer minors to not rp with me, for my own comfort.

Always open for asks too

Vigil's boss/bailiff for @tribunal-official

Vigil standing

#transformers roleplay #transformers #maccadam #transformers oc #oc #oc rp blog #oc rp #intro post

tfa-soundwave-official

Primus, make a new plague and kill all humans

That's a bit extreme, don't you think?

tfa-soundwave-official

No, it's fair, tribunal agreed

... and she says I'm violent.

tfa-soundwave-official

Tribunal smashes bots with a hammer, you cut the voice box of a bot to ribbons, I control minds, swindle shoots holes through bots, and lockdown Frankensteins himself with other limbs.

Even the autobots are violent, but violence is the only thing that will free us from the control of the organics and the corruption of the autobot government

I only did it once!

tribunal-official

I am still mad at you for that

Tribby, I've said I'm sorry. I also wasn't aware. You cannot hold that over my helm!

tribunal-official

Mhm, and you made the operation 10 times harder! Look, I'm trying to run a campaign, we are going political, that was a bad blow. But it's okay! I can fix it, I'm just... Still mad at the whole event

Not intentionally...

tfa-soundwave-official

Primus, make a new plague and kill all humans

That's a bit extreme, don't you think?

tfa-soundwave-official

No, it's fair, tribunal agreed

... and she says I'm violent.

tfa-soundwave-official

Tribunal smashes bots with a hammer, you cut the voice box of a bot to ribbons, I control minds, swindle shoots holes through bots, and lockdown Frankensteins himself with other limbs.

Even the autobots are violent, but violence is the only thing that will free us from the control of the organics and the corruption of the autobot government

I only did it once!

tribunal-official

I am still mad at you for that

Tribby, I've said I'm sorry. I also wasn't aware. You cannot hold that over my helm!

tfa-soundwave-official

Primus, make a new plague and kill all humans

That's a bit extreme, don't you think?

tfa-soundwave-official

No, it's fair, tribunal agreed

... and she says I'm violent.

tfa-soundwave-official

Tribunal smashes bots with a hammer, you cut the voice box of a bot to ribbons, I control minds, swindle shoots holes through bots, and lockdown Frankensteins himself with other limbs.

Even the autobots are violent, but violence is the only thing that will free us from the control of the organics and the corruption of the autobot government

I only did it once!

tfa-soundwave-official

Primus, make a new plague and kill all humans

That's a bit extreme, don't you think?

tfa-soundwave-official

No, it's fair, tribunal agreed

... and she says I'm violent.

tfa-soundwave-official

Primus, make a new plague and kill all humans

That's a bit extreme, don't you think?

HOO HOO HEE HEE

CHOESE

*SLAPS A SLICE OF CHEESE AT YOUR FACE*

... The frag?

Is there, like, a rehab Swindle can go to? Or would he be arrested for all his other crimes before he can even get a chance to go?

He'd most likely be arrested first more than anything.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Slag. I really want another drink.

No.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

I want another drink, but I can’t. You got rid of my fuel. Relax.

Relax? yea, sure.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

I get you’re fragging mad at me, okay? Can you, I don’t know, do something but talk to me when you’re mad? I hate seeing you mad at me like this. Get off my back. Cool the frag off. Do something that isn’t think about me and how I fragged up.

Alright, fine. I'll leave ya alone.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Slag. I really want another drink.

No.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

I want another drink, but I can’t. You got rid of my fuel. Relax.

Relax? yea, sure.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Slag. I really want another drink.

No.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle grumbled. “But I am weak, Vigil.” he tore his gaze away. “I don’t have to be told to know it. I got my cannon stolen from me twice—and the second time around, all my weapons got got. I can’t defend myself or my gear. I’m like a fragging sparkling: weak and helpless. You’ve come to my aid…how many times, now? I just want to be stronger…” his gaze lowered to the floor, then drifted over to the empty glass. “The flier enegon makes me stronger.”

Vigil looked and then shattered the glass with his pede rather aggressively. His engine actively growled lowly, as he did and his claws slightly dug into Swindle. "I don't care about that, or your weakness." His tone was very low again, and actually threatening towards Swindle. "Get that through your helm, will ya?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle flinched, briefly reaching out for the glass after Vigil stepped on it, only to pull back as Vigil dug his claws into him. “A-Ah, hey— Vigil—” He immediately tried to pull away from Vigil’s claws. “I-I get it, I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I-I won’t— I won’t do it again! I just—” he hissed, deciding it may be better to keep his intake shut.

Vigil let out a loud sigh from his vents and released Swindle's servo. "I'm sorry, so sorry... I'm just really worried about you relapsing." He carefully inspected the servo he dug his claws into, making sure he didn't draw energon. Once he deemed he hadn't, he began to pick up the glass he had just shattered in the moment of brief anger.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a small sigh as he watched Vigil pick up the glass. “I think I just did…”

Vigil froze for a moment, before he finished gathering up the fragments. He didn't say anything just let his wings twitch as he walked off to get rid of the broken glass. Very quiet, the quietest he had even been around Swindle before. His face is blank of emotions currently.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I was doing so good…” he buried his face in his servos. “At least, I thought I was…” he peeked through his digits, looking at where the glass once was. “I don’t know how to come back from this. I-I mean, I can’t just avoid it. I’m surrounded by flier fuel. I have a ship, for frag’s sake—it runs on flier fuel.”

Vigil moved silently around Swindle. His claws flexed as he walked off to wherever he had hidden the flier energon; he came back with it and headed out. When Vigil came back in, it was empty. The canister was completely fragging empty, even rinsed out of any remaining trace of it. He then slammed the canister down slightly harder than he had intended.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle flinched, looking up at Vigil. He looked down at the canister and scooted away from it.

He muttered something, not meant for Swindle to hear, obviously. Vigil then released the canister, and there were claw punctures in it. He closed his optics and his wings twitched again.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle grumbled. “But I am weak, Vigil.” he tore his gaze away. “I don’t have to be told to know it. I got my cannon stolen from me twice—and the second time around, all my weapons got got. I can’t defend myself or my gear. I’m like a fragging sparkling: weak and helpless. You’ve come to my aid…how many times, now? I just want to be stronger…” his gaze lowered to the floor, then drifted over to the empty glass. “The flier enegon makes me stronger.”

Vigil looked and then shattered the glass with his pede rather aggressively. His engine actively growled lowly, as he did and his claws slightly dug into Swindle. "I don't care about that, or your weakness." His tone was very low again, and actually threatening towards Swindle. "Get that through your helm, will ya?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle flinched, briefly reaching out for the glass after Vigil stepped on it, only to pull back as Vigil dug his claws into him. “A-Ah, hey— Vigil—” He immediately tried to pull away from Vigil’s claws. “I-I get it, I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I-I won’t— I won’t do it again! I just—” he hissed, deciding it may be better to keep his intake shut.

Vigil let out a loud sigh from his vents and released Swindle's servo. "I'm sorry, so sorry... I'm just really worried about you relapsing." He carefully inspected the servo he dug his claws into, making sure he didn't draw energon. Once he deemed he hadn't, he began to pick up the glass he had just shattered in the moment of brief anger.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a small sigh as he watched Vigil pick up the glass. “I think I just did…”

Vigil froze for a moment, before he finished gathering up the fragments. He didn't say anything just let his wings twitch as he walked off to get rid of the broken glass. Very quiet, the quietest he had even been around Swindle before. His face is blank of emotions currently.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I was doing so good…” he buried his face in his servos. “At least, I thought I was…” he peeked through his digits, looking at where the glass once was. “I don’t know how to come back from this. I-I mean, I can’t just avoid it. I’m surrounded by flier fuel. I have a ship, for frag’s sake—it runs on flier fuel.”

Vigil moved silently around Swindle. His claws flexed as he walked off to wherever he had hidden the flier energon; he came back with it and headed out. When Vigil came back in, it was empty. The canister was completely fragging empty, even rinsed out of any remaining trace of it. He then slammed the canister down slightly harder than he had intended.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle grumbled. “But I am weak, Vigil.” he tore his gaze away. “I don’t have to be told to know it. I got my cannon stolen from me twice—and the second time around, all my weapons got got. I can’t defend myself or my gear. I’m like a fragging sparkling: weak and helpless. You’ve come to my aid…how many times, now? I just want to be stronger…” his gaze lowered to the floor, then drifted over to the empty glass. “The flier enegon makes me stronger.”

Vigil looked and then shattered the glass with his pede rather aggressively. His engine actively growled lowly, as he did and his claws slightly dug into Swindle. "I don't care about that, or your weakness." His tone was very low again, and actually threatening towards Swindle. "Get that through your helm, will ya?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle flinched, briefly reaching out for the glass after Vigil stepped on it, only to pull back as Vigil dug his claws into him. “A-Ah, hey— Vigil—” He immediately tried to pull away from Vigil’s claws. “I-I get it, I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I-I won’t— I won’t do it again! I just—” he hissed, deciding it may be better to keep his intake shut.

Vigil let out a loud sigh from his vents and released Swindle's servo. "I'm sorry, so sorry... I'm just really worried about you relapsing." He carefully inspected the servo he dug his claws into, making sure he didn't draw energon. Once he deemed he hadn't, he began to pick up the glass he had just shattered in the moment of brief anger.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a small sigh as he watched Vigil pick up the glass. “I think I just did…”

Vigil froze for a moment, before he finished gathering up the fragments. He didn't say anything just let his wings twitch as he walked off to get rid of the broken glass. Very quiet, the quietest he had even been around Swindle before. His face is blank of emotions currently.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle grumbled. “But I am weak, Vigil.” he tore his gaze away. “I don’t have to be told to know it. I got my cannon stolen from me twice—and the second time around, all my weapons got got. I can’t defend myself or my gear. I’m like a fragging sparkling: weak and helpless. You’ve come to my aid…how many times, now? I just want to be stronger…” his gaze lowered to the floor, then drifted over to the empty glass. “The flier enegon makes me stronger.”

Vigil looked and then shattered the glass with his pede rather aggressively. His engine actively growled lowly, as he did and his claws slightly dug into Swindle. "I don't care about that, or your weakness." His tone was very low again, and actually threatening towards Swindle. "Get that through your helm, will ya?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle flinched, briefly reaching out for the glass after Vigil stepped on it, only to pull back as Vigil dug his claws into him. “A-Ah, hey— Vigil—” He immediately tried to pull away from Vigil’s claws. “I-I get it, I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I-I won’t— I won’t do it again! I just—” he hissed, deciding it may be better to keep his intake shut.

Vigil let out a loud sigh from his vents and released Swindle's servo. "I'm sorry, so sorry... I'm just really worried about you relapsing." He carefully inspected the servo he dug his claws into, making sure he didn't draw energon. Once he deemed he hadn't, he began to pick up the glass he had just shattered in the moment of brief anger.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle grumbled. “But I am weak, Vigil.” he tore his gaze away. “I don’t have to be told to know it. I got my cannon stolen from me twice—and the second time around, all my weapons got got. I can’t defend myself or my gear. I’m like a fragging sparkling: weak and helpless. You’ve come to my aid…how many times, now? I just want to be stronger…” his gaze lowered to the floor, then drifted over to the empty glass. “The flier enegon makes me stronger.”

Vigil looked and then shattered the glass with his pede rather aggressively. His engine actively growled lowly, as he did and his claws slightly dug into Swindle. "I don't care about that, or your weakness." His tone was very low again, and actually threatening towards Swindle. "Get that through your helm, will ya?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!

“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”

Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.

Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.

Immediately claws wrapped around Swindle's wrist when he reached to grab the canister. Vigil optics pierced right through him, as his denta were slightly bared. He said nothing, no noises came from him in fact; it was only a stern glare that was focused directly on the Combaticon. His wings angled downward and twitched slightly like he was aggravated.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“H-Hey! I was just getting a…drink…” Swindle trailed off as he realized who it was and the venom he held instantly died in his vocalizer. “I-I was…” he turned his helm away, grumbling, hiding the shame written all over his face. He didn’t bother trying to pull his wrist away. “They said it’d be okay, it was only one drink.” he didn’t say it like it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself. He knew full well that he messed up. “I thought…” he shook his helm. “I shouldn’t have thought.”

"Yea, you shouldn't have." He spoke low as he released Swindle's and took the canister away from him. Going to hide it somewhere, before he came back and stared at the mech again. Vigil's wings still angled down and occasionally twitched. Far from happy with the bot before him.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Quit looking at me like that.” Swindle said as he pulled his knees up to his chassis. “I should have never opened my intake, never let you find out I had a…problem.” He lowered his helm onto his knees, letting out a defeated sigh. “Maybe the anons wouldn’t have found out, either… Frag.” he uttered softly. “Go away…?” he weakly requested, lifting his helm just enough for his red optics to be seen.

"I would find out either way. You know I would." Vigil let out a soft sigh, his wings correcting as he walked closer. Gently he rested his claws on Swindle's helm and patted. "Why did you listen to them?"

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“‘Cause I’m weak.” he seethed, sitting up straight and fully lifting his helm. “I know it. The anons know it. You must know it.” Swindle sighed. “I was clean—sober, whatever—for three centuries.” he paused for a brief moment. “Three and a half.” he then corrected himself.

Vigil gently cupped Swindle's face, making sure his claws didn't scratch or pierce. "You aren't weak. Everyone relapses eventually when under pressure." He then gently touched his helm against Swindle's. "You're pretty strong, Swindle. Not just anyone could do what you do."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“Yeah,” Swindle scoffed. “And what do I do exactly? Besides always needing you to always come to my aid?” The red in his lights died down to their usual purple colour, though his optics appeared to remain red. "There's a reason the others left me, and I bet you'll leave for a similar if not the very same reason." he leaned back, pulling away from Vigil. “It frustrates you—admit it—the amount of times you’ve had to stop what you were doing to help me.” he pointed a thumb toward himself. “I’m helpless, weak. I can’t even say no to flier fuel when someone offers it.” he balled his servo into a fist and pounded on his chassis, as if that would emphasis his self-deprecating point. “The Autobots didn’t want me, the Decepticons didn’t want me. Did you think i’m factionless by choice? We’re at war and neither side wants me for anything besides the good of the trade.”

"Swindle, you are a con artist!" Vigil frowned and his wings drooped. "I couldn't do that, I'm just a murder!" He glanced down to his chest, before looking back to swindle. "I don't care if you're weak, and I don't care if you were the strongest bot around, nor do I care If neither side wanted you! You, you– primus I don't even know the words I want to use to describe you! They'd all be so fragging cheesy and embarrassing to say!" He curled his claws slightly, before relaxing them.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle let out a weak laugh, wiping his optics of some coolant that was about to fall. His left optic was noticeably turning purple again, though his right optic remained red—having been permanently changed from centuries of drinking flier energon. “You really don’t give a slag? You’re an idiot.” The insult held no bite, evident by the weak laughs he let out. He was more so trying to convince himself that Vigil was the fool in this scenario. “Why? Why don’t you care? Everyone else cares. Everyone else makes it a problem.”

"... Did you know I used to have three Decepticon insignias instead of just the two on my wings?" Vigil sighed softly. "And Owlcon isn't just a... nickname for me, it's... it's my sub-faction, actually." He looked away, like he couldn't believe he was about to admit to what he was saying and actively hesitated about continuing.

your-favorite-arms-dealer

He met out a small huff, an almost-laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me much, actually. Figured ‘Owlcon’ might actually be something.”

"I'm... considered a failure as an Owlcon." He stayed looking away. "We aren't meant to have anyone, we're meant to be lone warriors, and when you are consider a failure, you don't get to..." Vigil paused and then began again, as he tapped his chest where insignia used to be. "I barely survived when my carrier tried to offline me."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Swindle paused for a moment, servos fidgeting with each other. “Carrier’s your, uh…parent or guardian of sorts, right? Parents are very prominent in humans—more so than Cybertronians, I’d say—and the humans have a phrase, you see. Every child deserves to have parents, but not every parent deserves to have children.” he paused, briefly. “You deserved better than that, if I may be so bold as to say that.”

"Eh." Vigil shrugged. "I only told you because I wanted to share, that even if you are weak, as you claim to be. I too am weak in the same way. It'd be in poor taste for me to leave you over something that I have the same fault of." He gently grabbed Swindle's servo. "Also she was my parent, my sire was an Autobot... Another reason why I'm classified as weak. I'm not a full Owlcon."

your-favorite-arms-dealer

Swindle wrapped his digits around Vigil’s servo. “I’m just saying you don’t deserve to be offlined by your own parent. For any reason. That’s kinda fragged up.” he looked away for a moment, thinking, before turning back to Vigil. “If you don’t want a sparkling for any reason, you…you should give ‘em away to someone who does. Trying to offline you was probably a bit much, even if you were weak for their taste.”

"I um, kinda offlined her, so... she had her punishment." Vigil gently rubbed his claw along his servo softly. "Now, back to you though. You aren't weak. Others might say you are, but you aren't to me."

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