rifleseye

[rifleseye]

hmmmm

#considering making my souperceptor a sideblog. rotating the idea #i have ideas #that diverge heavily from any other cont. #listen. i like involving characters in time shenanigans #and godz.illa singular point is giving me ideas #【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc. #i must sleep now though i'm falling asleep at my desk

[rifleseye]

"You know," Prowl starts, flatly, breaking the silence between their second or third drink. "I didn't expect you to be here."

— They'd been sitting here in mutual silence for several minutes now. The party growing to be too overwhelming for him, and for Prowl... well he doesn't particularly care enough to know why. Though if he had to make an educated guess it would be for similar reasons.

He's in the middle of taking a sip from his own high grade — more juiced up than the other stuff on account of his general resistance to it — when the former CO speaks up.

" Neither did I you, " he mutters against his glass before taking a swig, " I assumed you did not enjoy mingling with others. "

#【 ic. 】 — ❝ kepler's third law and you. ❞ #【 inbox. 】 — ❝ message for the director of science incoming. ❞ #forthebetterandworse #sitting in the back of the club arms crossed cause they don't agree with the music type of shit

[rifleseye]

take my hand and imagine the wreckers animatic to the bells by phil ochs i have in my hand.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc. #specifically. last stand.

[rifleseye]

He hums in response, choosing to not mention that he was going to leave much earlier than he did. The only reason he stayed so long is because he was trying to push himself a little more out of his comfort zone. It's supposed to help him with his... social ineptitude, at least that's what he's been told.

Either way, he did enjoy himself. And he still is, honestly. He enjoys Rodimus's company, even if he is incredibly inebriated. As if that wasn't enough on its own he actually dozes as they're walking which only prompts Perceptor to pull him further over his shoulder. But the moment is short before Rodimus is back to the semi-waking world.

His captain's response seems like a loaded statement that he's not particularly inclined to pick apart at the moment. So he just nods in agreement, " I am glad to hear that, then. " He pauses for a moment, a slight mischief in his eye, " I may just end up being a quidnunc and talk about how much you enjoyed yourself tomorrow. " His tone is deadpan, but there is a slightly amused lilt to the end of his statement. A joke. Not a very good one, but it is one.

A nod, a short acknowledgment of Perceptor’s discomfort. There’s a smile on Rodimus’ face, though it isn’t wide or overly warm— it is just so. A comfortable smile, content in its nature. “Suppose it does get a bit loud after a while, eh? Don’t blame ya for not likin’ that. Surprised ya lasted this long, honestly.” A frown. “No offense. Just know this ain’t your kind of thin’.”

It’s nice, Rodimus decides, to have a friend here. He had fully expected to make the walk back to his hab alone, or to not make it back at all and just take the opportunity to doze off in his office, since that was closest.

The question lingers for a few minutes, as Rodimus thinks it through (and dozes off on his feet, too, as he finds Perceptor can carry his weight. He turns on his optics after a few seconds with a lazy chuckle that is laced with sleep) and finally answers, resting —or trying to rest— his helm on Perceptor’s shoulder.

“Yeah, t’was fun. Been a while since we got to celebrate shit.” Go back, rephrase that a little bit. Not what he asked. “I had fun. ‘N’ I’m glad you had fun. Would suck if you’d been miserable. Or anyone.”

#【 ic. 】 — ❝ kepler's third law and you. ❞ #rodismancave #percy vc: what if i told the crew you cared about them

[rifleseye]

my weirdly tall perceptor propaganda.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

. i need to finish making my wreckers playlist.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

perceptor in the middle of a breakdown.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

hey. holds out my hand. write wreckers era with me. okay?

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc. #i need to study him. under a microscope

[rifleseye]

like i must emphasize: dude would NOT stand up for himself. he just went along with whatever the consensus was. he had the moral spine of a chocolate eclair. he had little to no confidence and absolutely no self respect.

it's honestly why i like the "shut up megatron" scene so much because he FINALLY stood up for himself.

while percy was confident with his abilities i genuinely think that during his wrecker era was when his Personal confidence was at an all time low.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc. #he's a hypocrite. you must know this. #especially as a wrecker. #'lets blow up all those exprisoners brains so we can finish the mission it doesnt matter if anyone else dies so long as the mission is done #he was NOT a good person during his wrecker era #does it haunt him now? hell yes it does

[rifleseye]

while percy was confident with his abilities i genuinely think that during his wrecker era was when his Personal confidence was at an all time low.

#girl i'm tired of all his wrecker era stuff having him like Confident Sexyman 5000 or whatever #he is at his most mentally unstable point in his entire life #that's NOT something we should be celebrating #dude thought he was of so little worth he thought physically changing his body would fix that #spoiler alert it didnt #【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

guy who doesn't think he needs therapy: yeah i manage myself perfectly fine [gets stuck in a recursive loop of his worst trauma]

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

It comes in waves.

First, this:

You are asleep, the day prior exhausted you to your spark and you only wished for some time for yourself. Time to recuperate. You've been trying to get better at it — the best way to keep one's mind sharp is with remaining mindful of the body's needs. You've struggled with that since the Wreckers.

You sleep late. Far later than you usually would. You check the date and you frown to yourself. It will have been... how many years? Since that fateful day. You sigh to yourself and sit up.

And it is here you begin to worry. You feel the world around you move in a blur, your eyes struggle to focus. Fatigue hits you all at once. The last time this happened you ended up laid up in medical for weeks, the invasive surgery to repair your spark chamber took a lot out of you.

You check your vitals, keep track of your spark's rhythmic rotations within its chamber. Slightly elevated, but no arrhythmia. You're about to call up medical to get a checkup when it hits you next.

Hard coded, lining your body, scarring your inner mechanisms, your head aches. Worse yet you feel your emulator kick in. Lines of code. You've lost control. No no no.

You're back with the Wreckers. Kup is still getting used to his new body and you pace anxiously as the others free your teammates. They look terrible and you should be giving them a once-over before leaving. You don't, however, as you're soon found.

You need to do something with your hands. You need to be useful.

You secure the lock and you're mid-sentence when they stop trying. When they—

There is a hole in your chest.

Spark shrinking.

Spark shrinking.

Hole in chest. Useless. Helpless.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Spark shrinking.

Emergency Protocol.

Need to survive.

Wanted to travel.

Wanted to learn more.

Helpless. Helpless. Helpless.

Where did they go? Where did they go? Where are they going?

Helpless. Helpless. Helpless.

You're still here.

Spark shrinking.

You're still alive.

Stop shrinking.

You're still alive. Where did they go?

Helpless. Helpless. Helpless....

Hard coded, lining your body, scarring your inner mechanisms, your head aches. Worse yet you feel your emulator kick in. Lines of code. You've lost control. No no no.

You're back with the Wreckers. Kup is still getting used to his new...

#third try's the charm right #【 drabbles. 】 — ❝ i peel layers of my thoughts. ❞

[rifleseye]

Perceptor has been neither seen nor heard from today...

#【 ic. 】 — ❝ kepler's third law and you. ❞ #【 mus. 】 — ❝ life in the body is an intention. ❞ #posts this then vanishes for the rest of the day hahah

[rifleseye]

Heart, keep very still, or someone will find you out.

- Emily Dickinson.

#【 mus. 】 — ❝ life in the body is an intention. ❞

[rifleseye]

For a moment he feels his mind begin to follow suit, but it is only that — a moment. Something in the deepest core of his minds draw upon his experiences from Protea. Internal sensors alight telling him something is deeply wrong, instinct kicks in and he cuts off all external vents.

His closes his eyes so as to avoid staring at the bizarre display, his scope swiveling, unaffected, to study the creature for a nanosecond. Looking for soft points, weak points he might be able to exploit. The spaces between joints where shells connect would be too obvious.

Think think think.

Ah.

He steps to the side, working on instinct and his limited vision through his scope he narrows in on one spot. There you are.

BANG BANG.

The Quintesson switches its stance almost faster than the optic can perceive; raising its primary arms in a guard to deflect the shots. The seam running the length of its face splits open, revealing a rostrum hinged by cybernetic muscle—it misjudges its lunge, however, and the beak snaps shut a mere inch from shaving off Perceptor's nose.

Now they're uncomfortably face-to-face. The creature inexplicably pauses in its attack, the gilled apertures either side of its head rippling as it fans its leaf-like frills outwards. It tilts its head side-to-side, leaving a halo of blurry afterimages in the wake of the motion.

The effect is bizarrely hypnotic. The air is turning hazy and amber-sweet. All perception begins to warp, vision becoming fish-eyed.

You can't look away.

#【 ic. 】 — ❝ kepler's third law and you. ❞ #【 lost light. 】 — ❝ set the silence free to wash away the worst of me. ❞ #phrygonxenos

[rifleseye]

ooob i found my young percy and his dead conjunx art

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc.

[rifleseye]

— Perceptor starts when Rodimus nearly trips as he throws his arm around his shoulder. This time, he holds onto his arm that's been thrown over his shoulder to keep him at least somewhat secure. He offers a thin smile and nods encouragingly when his captain gets the word right. " Indeed. Fast. " He is very much trying to stifle a laugh.

The heat of his frame comes off in waves and it makes him realize that's something he's never really asked about. It might be too personal to ask, though, and he doesn't particularly feel like prodding while he's inebriated. He's drawn from his thoughts however, Rodimus's question catching him off guard. He hums in thought as he takes a moment to search his friend's face, trying to really grasp why he's asked. He can't find whatever he might be looking for, so settles on answering honestly. " I did, am, yes. Though... You must be aware that I do not enjoy the ah... more robust festivities that this one turned into. "

Not that he had a bad time, only that he was starting to get overwhelmed. Helping Rodimus back to his own hab was partially a reason to excuse himself. Then, as an afterthought, he adds: " Did you enjoy yourself, captain? "

“Oh, that’s a fancy word. Thought I was jus’ reeaal stupid.” He leans further, turning off his optics for a moment before turning them on again— a distraught expression now gracing his face. “Hey— now why would I wanna trade ya for a big mouth? Lousy mouth. Uh, quidnunce.” Rodimus frowns, stares at Perceptor for a second before his face lights up with recognition. “Quidnunc! That’s the bitch. See? Fast learner. Learn faaast, real fast.”

Intoxicated, Rodimus doesn’t really pay any mind to the hand on his chest. Not that he’d pay any mind to it under any other occasion— but, it feels nice. It’s brief enough that he doesn’t truly acknowledge it, but warm enough that his foggy memory takes it as a wordless consent so Rodimus can put an arm around Perceptor’s shoulder, further anchoring himself. Even when he does trip trying to get his grip right. Rodimus’s frame is warm, a little hotter than usual as his body tries to process the dubious amount of high grade in his systems. Hot, but not uncomfortably so, yet. When the red racer speaks again, his tone is a little quieter, a bit hopeful. There is worry layered beneath it all.

“Did’ja have fun? Are ya havin’ fun?”

#【 ic. 】 — ❝ kepler's third law and you. ❞ #【 lost light. 】 — ❝ set the silence free to wash away the worst of me. ❞ #rodismancave