How in the name of Primus are we getting off Pitch Black is beyond me. Now……..U.h…Great. I’m having a fragging headache! What’s the matter with this fragging world? Is it being so cruel to me because a Transfan has arrived in a world she does not belong in? By doing some reasonable guess work and playing Pokemon Mystery dungeon this answer can be anyone’s opinions. Especially mine: I think this universe really hates me. Starscream didn’t understand when I told him his “Transformers Prime counterpart took the star out of scream and looks nothing like a Starscream!”
He took that as an offense. What a crybaby.
The chicken can’t be dead. It can’t be it can’t be. The view reclines to show in a dreamily like state; a dead Cybertronian Chicken is held by a Decepticon, who seems unstable and afraid. A dark, heavy figure comes through the hall making everything living on the floor run for their lives. The Frightened Decepticon tries putting his companion back together while shaking bad.
This dark shadow has a definite shape of a dragon who’s wings are so wide it could have been ripped out of the Movies;Eragon,Dragonheart, and so on.
“DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONN!” I screech really loud. Really why did my imagination pull my leg? This is no fun. Not really entertaining. People say your imagination is stronger than your words. How about Bridge to Tabitha being about a place with imaginary character not just about two kids’ life I didn’t like the movie. It didn’t follow through on its description. I may have been ten or nine or eleven when watching it.
There’s a forest thicket right ahead, I think, it looks so alike by lines and squiggly detail. It reminds me of some non-brilliantly detailed painting done by an amateur artist such as a little child. Toddlers are known for their childish and squirmy artwork, although, there are chances some can be artistic geniuses when they haven’t been given a canvas and paint. Heh, reminds me when I was still a noob in art back in 2009 and started developing my own style.
The same transformation sounds when Bumblebee transformed into his vehicle mode with Sam Witwicky is kicked into gear. I flew in the air waving both arms in a fit of panic. I look above my shoulder to see some of his armor folded and flipped into the left side of a vehicle when viewed from a helicopter. Ten seconds I was put into what is probably a seat and parts pertaining to a car came into place leaving me in the driver’s seat. His lights flipped on. Oh my gawd this is awesome as fragging hanging around Transformers!
“EEEEEh that was awesome!” I squeal, throwing my arms up hitting the car’s roof.
“ Rahuf canuens act-evate!” Something loud from the roof quickly got rid of whatever had landed. He has roof canons? Oh my primus, I like Bayverse Swindles now! They got cannons almost everywhere in robot mode and vehicle mode.This makes them cooler than Landmine from Robots in Disguise, asides to Jolt and Bud. Then I put my hands on the steering wheel. “Dune’t luuk out tee wendow.”
I looked out the window. Oh I just sounded Scottish. Cool! The beasts tumble over each other. “This is amazing.” Really it truly is, a scouts honor to be inside a vehicle capable of becoming a robot. Truthfully. The radio to my right glows when a surprising reaction came from it. “Wiiee duuu gerils leki gehiant ro’jubuts?” or something like “Ie telud yuhue nehut tue leuk out ttee wendow.”
So, being a talky-talkity girl, I decided to give him the worst explanation ever from a fast speaker. “Girls like gigantic robots. There’s-a-lot-of-fangirls-out-there-in –my-universe,” The beasts were coming closer and the dirt coming from behind us seen in the rearview mirror just reminded me of classic Herbie ditching villians in the dust. “Obiviously- I’m-among-them-“ I take an breath. “But,-there’s-namely-a-few-transfans who are boys.” Something big got on Red scout five’s roof.
“Du yuhue evur sataop tahliking?”
I held my hand on the rectangle speed grip attachment.
“Nope.” I reply. “One who’s Kyle. Who-last time-I-checked-had-a-bad keyboard, planned on a recoded Transformers fanfiction, and became slightly inactive or I forgot completely about others.”
He goes over something causing an impromptu hiccup. So I look out the window, again.
“Oooh, what an unusual sight of Godzilla herds without being so big like the one from the live action, I’ve seen a lot of Godzilla movie--” Without any warning at all, he drove faster, and ran over one of these beasts. However, it’s almost like hitting a deer without the vehicle spinning around—One time when I was coming back from Church with the few friends I had the driver somehow got a deer hitting the window leaving a hoofprint and the vehicle spinning briefly. I didn’t notice anything about the deer because I was thinking really hard looking out the window. So when they said “We hit a deer” I was all “Lol what?” I didn’t get hurt or anything, the honda’s van window got the least damage—or the window getting a hoof print.
Feeling the pressure of speed pushed my body back into the seat.
“Dune’t gehet sehik.”
Is he really saying that?
“….That is really taunting me to get sick.” I comment, my fingers grip around the wheel. He snickers, rolling down his window. This is some surprise he has in store; I didn’t think robots could chuckle with screwed up voices boxes such as his and Bumblebee’s at the moment. My guess work from doing some unfathomable formula tells me he’ll get his voice box fixed when we get back to Cybertron, hopefully. I don’t have the Allspark on me.
The silhouette of a scorpion like tail being flat similar to a cobra rose up from the darkness. Oh my primus. This is overwhelming! This somewhat reminds me of the Scorpion King from The Mummy movies and the other spinoff movie featuring the dude mentioned above. The Mummy movies are pretty good, when interested in Egypt and ancient artifacts. From all the fast racing and sharp turns my face could be turning green not blue. “MUST PUKE!” Thank primus his Window is rolled down!
Red-Scout-five swirled fast over to the right when I threw up; The puke landed on the tail or the head of this silhouette animal creature. “Ah, the understatement of life is right across from me.” My dad has this catch phrase “oh shoot” he uses it more often than not therefor just making it a phrase he likes to say. Let’s say he could have used it for the right time if he had been present. My Dad’s a truck driver. How cool is that! Cool for me, but I don’t know about anyone’s opinions on it.
“Uhuups wu’ing wuy.”
He speeded off to the other direction.
Is this wise to drive EXTREMELY fast with a human inside?
I hope not.
“…Dude, you got bad GPS!” I complain, “Or do you don’t actually remember!”
The growls that were coming from behind us could have been mistaken for a deep growl out of Red Scout Five. “Ie due remhember, jehust gehut off taraick.” His headlights make a curtain-pool from afar revealing what appears to be a fairly wide bone, sticks, logs, and dead body parts left carelessly in his way. Uh oh. I will so have a nightmare tonight. He ran over the discarded clutter as if they were nothing but garbage or a dead skunk. The bone-spine chilling, sinister-loud growling grows louder as did the noises these beasts made when chasing after prey or bickering who eats the hunted down target.
An idea landed in my head.
“Got an idea!” I take my handle out. “I can slow those creepy aliens down—“
“No waey!” Red-Scout-five definatly said. “Tehiell kehique ywhu.”
Two jets are flying through far from dying stars, somewhat close by other planets, and rocky debris from the Big Bang float around. The jets look brand new, not old or dusty. A large smoke shaft is seen poking from the first jet to the left being larger and wider than the shorter jet. Some human made crafts are seen flying by these jets slowly headed towards different planets and one specifically headed towards Pluto. The bulky-rounded rolled piece of garbage like rocket is shot down by the smaller jet letting pieces scatter away.
Outer space silence returns, somewhat, by the disruption of Jets.
“This is not what I imagined myself to be doing!” A Cybertronian-jet styled fighter complains in his native nationality. Smoke drifted out from an air-shack somewhat hooked to the cockpit when the fine-sharp wing-blades kept in their right position through sharp daggered edges to the sides demonstrated this Decepticon is big in his robot mode.
A grunt comes from a smaller cybertronian jet flying beside him.
“Retrieving a human…” The other repeats, sounding more as a joker than t “And a scout. What more does Starscream want to torture us on? Is it going to be flight tricks next? Or following the orders of an old fallen prime?”
The complainer laughs.
“What do you say we ditch this mission and get us some reputation on a civilized animal infested planet?” The Complainer asks his voice is similar to some male actor capable of making people wonder if he’s an imposter or not; when he actually is not an imposter. The best example can be a high profile celebrity who appears in really good movies and gets a lot of money from it.
The smaller Jet blazed smoke from his rocket area.
“Anything better to do than this!”
They both fly in a totally different direction.
How did Red Scout five get his lights back? This is totally illogical! Come on. When does there get logic in the mist of explosions everywhere in a film franchise that mostly has jokes? Avenger is half Italian, like Nicholas Cage who’s a really good actor—who was in Ghost Rider, I love that movie!-- He’s got an old-fashioned knife that has the words “Not a hero, but a villain” enscrewed on the metal blade. He has the height of Animated Optimus Prime. The sad thing is he’s the one who gets the torture of death. Not kidding. He evolved out from Waspinator when I was roleplaying with somebody. Who’s actually one year younger than me, just to think, I thought she was older than me! So this means she was 11 when I was 12 when we--…Ohhh yeah I’m going wayyy overboard.
“Dude, I like cats and dogs and all, but there are large-human killers out there, so animal cruelty does not need to be on my mind!” I press the handle as I held it out the window that sizzled and generated the large bird-like sounded crackily electrical line making the ground pretty visible. Using as much bravura remaining towards freaky ballistic animals my hand whipped the electrical line forwards at faint-non-clear outlines that became more brighter when hit, the full on exposure or more else a bright white flash blinding them. Some of these beasts landed on-top of another while the non-blinded bests leaped over them.
Red scout five had speeded faster unexpectedly so it was no surprise my spinal column hit the top edge of the window rather sharply. “T-t-they are coming,” feeling hot-liquid pouring from my eyes simultaneously while holding an electrical whip is itself a dire situation: Water+Body+Electricity=Death. “And dude, warn me next time!” He didn’t respond but the tail my energy whip left behind certainly gave me an apparent microscope on how fast the chasers are gaining on us. Stick stick stick stick stick stick stick stick! Whipping this electrical-created striker right at nothing—however it wasn’t just nothing but a fat-old tree branch because holding the firm handle didn’t seem to budge.
I did not need to look behind, quickly turning off the handle and sitting down back in Scout Five. Well there’s now a cluster of tree’s blocking them from following us to the ship. Wow. This is what a human can do! Man this is better than this dream I had about two boys and one girl, these boys were related who were friends with this girl and some Ipad-roover-robot thing appeared in it. It seemed strange at best when I recall it. That one night when I had cake or something like that; my best guess from this time-portal that appeared at the end of my dream is…dun dun nah nah…Vector Prime appeared—I saw the tip to his vehicle mode, it was way awesome!
Red-Scout-five’s headlights show an apparent crash landing site right ahead being thousands of stellar cycles old. Thing didn’t change on this planet, not completely for the major area. But for the area easily detected something crashed here billions of years ago by observers. I get a strange-odd feeling there’s life in some air-craft just a few miles away from us. Damnit Ivy this is not Star Wars were you can feel the force, that’s the wrong fandom girl!
“Weee!” I squeal. “I’m freeflying!”
I flap my arms.
Then I feel something sharp grab me. Definitely not robot-claws.
Ah frag. What’s up with me and danger?
“….REEEEDD SCOOUUT FIIIIIIIIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” I yelp, feeling some large claws taking hold a powerful grip on my abdomen. There’s something fun to know; your ribs are called hydrophobic regions/area/sections including the cranial area that contains the brain, there’s the Abdnominopelvic cavity contains and holds most of the urinary and reproductive organs made by Pelvic Cavity and Abnormal Cavity; fingers are approximal to the wrist, hands are distal to the shoulder. “Little help here!” Half scared and half wanting look up to see what kind of Pitch Black inhabitant is holding me can be the most difficult thing to ignore. Besides killing off Oc's, reading Twilight,and....Anyone can continue this list on and on and on. Humans are really delicate when it comes to metal, hard grips, sharp edges, and high distances.
I couldn’t stop, but my head looks up.
It looks exactly like the beast from Pitch Black. Oh my primus. So I shut my eyes scared half to death.
Out of no-where I see from out my bod. My body is in the claws of a beast. Woah...this is...strange. Scout Five lifts himself up from the ground having some dirt on him. Wow, who knew out of body experiences permit you to see though the dark! His car doors rose upwards showing the window shields are completely down and the rearview mirrors are still attached, his two pillar like parts sticking from his car's front made a villain-resembling collar similar to the lady from 'Sleeping Beauty'. His rounded -camera shell opening blinks. A red dot appears through the darkness of that endless camera tunnel.
"What's he going to do?" I rhetorically ask myself. "Charge at it?
The Swindle scout-five lunges at the animal as his three flat digits make a gripping position.
"..IN one...two...three cue the explosions."
He collided with the beast that dropped my body, almost like a doll. During my childhood years I played with dolls, Dinosaur toys, Microphone pretending to be a rockstar, and a toy sword acting out stories from the littlest things from the television or the carpet. The most fondest and recollect-able memory from my childhood years is acting out a story while my mom was in the bathroom taking a shower. How do I know? Because she told me before going into the bathroom. Okay off the topic.
Bayverse logic has just been opened.
"Thank Primus I am not OUT my body anymore." I grumble, and then cough.
Another explosion went off. Great, I'm now vulnerable to the aliens capable of killing me when there's EXPLOSIONS going on! Guess this advantage could be my best , all I have to do is follow the yellow brick road--...No the Disaster road.Red-Scout Five's left arm takes out guts from the animal. His headlights are still active so they haven't been turned off. Guess humans aren't necessarily alone forgetting to turn their car-lights off. A swarm of liquid fell from the beasts' stomach almost resembling a waterfall.
"Red Scout Five, don't just stand there," I yell, ignoring the grizzily corpse. "Let's get out of here FAST before there's more!"
Man, he sounds worse than me when I had bronchitis!
So yeah, we ran.
If only there was some dramatic music.
There's something wrong about this...but...My IQ may have dropped being in this universe. Metal from the crash gave an ideally perfect pathway to wherever the ship is. Red Scout Five is following it too. Soo this means we're going the right way. My best guess is you can see me running from behind a gigantic robot as some more beasts are right behind our tails, though it seems like a blurr at best passing by rocky areas. The ground trembles from every hit Scout Five's foot put on--His weight is likely massive than Bumblebees--this top layer of dirt. Hard to believe I'm around gigantic robots. It's a special privilege to those who are lucky.
My heart beating fast, adrenaline going through my body, and just pure instinct to follow kept myself running after The Swindle Drone. I jumped over a sharp piece of debris right on time when a beast tried snapping at my feet. It's so good to be somebody who has a need for speed truthfully it is this time around. Pain coming from my neck is hard, it’s like something is growing when there is nothing growing or swelling! Geeze my hair may be really thick but...
That’s when I fully became aware of my surroundings.
I’m in the cave. A dark, blinding cavern.
“…Well…this is…More…uh…” I stumble. “ Of a distracted girl.”
A planet by many and a dwarf planet by officials…
Megatron transforms into his robot mode. His armor retracted and folded creating the large-but-respectable body mass for the wishful leader. His servos stretch outwards form the metal making his antebrachial occupied armor. His optics narrows at the small cybertronian panther. The cybertronian Panther is sitting upon something that has a bunch of rocks and clutter all over it.
“You have a really small processor.” Megatron said, walking towards the animal. “Figures, just senseless addition to the project—“
Ravage barks, snarling at the leader.
“Don’t you remember I found you whe—“
Ravages barks, unearthing what he had found beckoning the leader to come forward. “I swear if it’s only a….” He stops. There is what appears to be a cybertronian arm made permanently part of the planet. He lifted his helmet up, startled by this evidence: A arm similar to a Swindle Scout clone, however, it held something in its hand similar to a light-saber handle and a pair of metal 3-D glasses lady in on-top the palmar (The palm). This meant something to Megatron…Only one thing could be possible. He looks up to Ravage recognizing the armor. Megatron recognized the carving of the handle that bore the initials I. B. Autosting. This worries Megatron, greatly.
Megatron had been there when it had been initialized.
“I’ll never lose this for as long as I live!” The all-too clear chippery voice nearly busts his Audios. “So new, so simple, so unordinary!” Her eyes gleam at the fading redness of the small cybertronian words. “Just to think I got it initialized!”
“I bet she’ll lose it.” Starscream mutters.
“In two weeks.” Megatron bets, earning a snicker from the much shorter seeker.
Ivy’s face became a pout.
“I won’t lose it, just you watch!” She shook her hand in the air, waving it. Her eyes are determined, though, they seem terminally unwell because they somewhat flicker somewhat as cybertronian eyes replacing the basic structure of the eyeball slowly, causing a little electricity to make contact with her 3-D Glasses. “I won’t leave it behind. Ever. Ever. Ever. I do not know what it can do. But I’m sure as hell won’t lose it on an action-packed adventure!”
He kneels down to Ravage who sat on its feet.
“Why do you come here, pet?” He asks.
Ravage tilts his head at Megatron, acting confused.
Some Decepticon folklore presents Pluto as the death predictioner.
“…Why me?” He looks away from the hole. “Why could it have been some other Con? Starscream should have come here instead of me. There’s no reason why I should give a scrap about some human! She knows too much. My teacher knows much about her. I know nothing. Decepticons do not care about organic life or what happens to them.”
“I know!” He shouts back at the animal, turning back towards Ravage. “She may have ‘saved’ me. But I don’t like humans.” He points to his chest. His back is called the Dorsal cavity/Dorsal region containing the spinal cord. He paces back and forth trying to decide whether to go or not. “She nearly got me sick from her cold. And to think Ivy talks in her sleep!”
Ravage’s tail goes back and forth, yawning.
“...This is not a funny matter…she kept waking up every time I turned the song off, so I had to be there when she didn’t speak anymore.” He says, gazing towards the feline at once more. “Starscream got it easy making her listening to…Those slow and repeating lyrics.” The one who despised humans is speaking towards a feline panther, one of those who had survived the war among the massive species that helped the Humaniod Cybertronians in their war.
“You think I should…go where?”
“Who is this, and you must have a fairly good reason interrupting me!” He growls, his large digit is on the side of his helmet. The reply he got is not pleasant to say rather as a gentleman informing a crowd a man or woman is dead after gun shots had been heard. Thinking of a way present this conversation between comnlinks is rather hard to deduce it. “YOU WHAT?”
Ravage covers the hole.
“You went to the beast planet, attempted over throwing Scourage, and ended up getting caught—who assigned you to --.....” Megatron’s cybertronian made jet-engine revved making a loud-deafening-anguish sound only witnessed to be heard from a helicopter. This is a generally impossible event, but, for this gigantic robot it can be considered possible. “You were meant to get the Swindle scout and the girl but you decided anyhow?” His optics are flaring sending electrical sparks from his designed orbitals connected like a screw to a cap connected to a jumble of wiring capable of friction. Megatron is pretty irritated. “That’s it. I’m doing it myself. You two get your arse out of there!”
He terminates the comnlink.
“Ravage, sit.” Megatron points to the ground. “Don’t fuss; you will just make it harder for yourself! …Since we do not get along that well.” Truthfully Ravage and Soundwave got along quite better, for Megatron to admit it this displays a special relationship between the two Decepticons. The panther sits right in front of the leader with its one eye doing a ‘what’s-up-doc’ straight from a rather old-funny-cartoon; featuring a rabbit and a hunter.
Being in a dark and soundless environment is not pleasant.
Trually. It isn’t.
I’m scared to death of the dark.
“Don’t be afraid of the dark, girl.” I reassure myself, taking the handle from my pocket. Where’s Scout-Five when you need him? Maybe I’m in a nest of these beasts. There are these gigantic solid lines peaking from above in the shape of eggs. As in Jurassic Park sized for T-Rexes or some other dinosaur that has large eggs. Pterodactyls, that’s it! “Yep. You are screwed.”
“HIIIYYAAAAAH!” I leap up activating the handle as it’s in my left hand doing a karate-kick.
“Ewwww.” My foot had gone through the beast’s head. Ewe. It’s dead. Ewe. “Digustting.” Then I took my foot out seeing through slight electrical light the beast has been sliced in half from the whip since it looks somewhat jiggered from the abdomen and the spine area that makes the sagittal plane. Note number 1: Do not go on an adventure without wipeys, googles, guns, and an electrical whip.
Above all: do not go on a space mission.
I hear a mechanical sound from afar.
Maybe it’s him!
“Red—“ A jabbing pain came from my legs. I scream, falling on the floor. My legs feel as if something’s becoming wrong and unsettling to the anatomy of my body structure. It’s paralyzing. My back went bone-stiff. Try moving your arms, you glitchead. I reach my hands out to the nearest rocky bump (Or something to help me move) located on the floor. My throat feels sore. That’s unusual. “Red Sc--!” Woah...My voice sounds different. What’s happening to me? It’s high pitched. It’s more robotic. Not…me?
My entire body feels shaky.
Mind: Stop. Stop it. Stop it.
Why should we? We are just beginning…
My still operating hand clenched my stomach.
…I just spoke to myself….No…that’s insane!
They know what I’m thinking…great. Wait. Who are they?
Mind: Stop messing with me! Stop it! Stop stop stop.
I flip myself over, getting hot and unbearable pain in the process.
Mind: Leave me alone!
Necessarily, A Transfan may never have thought this up before: Man vs self, who’s not actually himself, but some other entity, like a ghost. Ghosts are way interesting. So interesting I could write something about them in the far future…completed that is. There is a movie that fondly stays in my memory “Ghost” way good! As in five stars, the storyline and ending is especially neat; kick arsh Ghost getting revenge!
Girl, you are stubborn than others we have overcome…your mind isn’t usual...
Mind: I know!
You would make a great Quintession.
“REEDD SCOOUUTT!” I scream. “Get your butt over here and…”
Mind: I won’t let you take over my body, parasite.
Let’s see who wins, human.
Mind: Then it’s a fight in the subconscious…
Losing consciousness, the sounds of something heavy headed my way made things apparently clear through the sound-wave affect followed by a low-deadly growl. Mind: I got to…fight for me…for everyone…I can’t let them win. A burning tear fell from both eyes. Mind:…This is for the Decepticons, Earth, and Cyber—trun….. In a way, I’ve been knocked out cold.
Now in the realm where anything can be done in the subconscious is my play-field...Wow it looks so ravaged and terrain, almost like a desert instead being really rocky than just being a grassy field. Guess this comes from my relentless action scenes between my own characters that end up dead. The sky is a heavy dark gray, as if ready to drop rain or create a storm, a perfect storm settled for this event.
"Hello,” A high pitched voice sounding much as a quintession intruded my observing. “You ready to precede the challenge?"
I stagger up. Strangely everything is small to me. The ground doesn't seem that close anymore. The sky is more obvious to showing strange-unusual cybertronian flight-birds winging it in the sky. Something doesn't feel right. I can't tell if my body is human or not. Maybe...my body is some machine. That'll be cool! MACHINE GUN! ...But, I'm seeing through two holes and breathing. There’s mechanical sounds that makes this scenario a little unbelievable...
“I’m ready, but,” I took out my electrical-whip-handle. I clicked it on. “Are you ready to taste a little piece of my arsh?” That’s when my eyes caught whiff of a robotic-light purple digit. My Digit….Uh…this is Crazy, but I’m in the Bayverse with some popcorn; so call me crazy, maybe. …Speaking of popcorn…what happened to the popcorn bag?... And now my subconsciousness is taking on the form of a fanon version of myself for The Animated universe from a contest I held. I really liked the design a user on the internet made specifically for it; my favorite colors are purple, light, blue, and red. Those are epic. And Black!
Springing up the electrical whip turned out to be a fairly good idea.
This robot mode could be very well in its Bayverse version of the contest winner’s design.
“You are well trained,” The sly-high pitched quintession voice notes.
“I watched too much Indianna Jones, Jackie Chan, action…yayda,. Thanks.” I kicked a large boulder down towards the quintession. Parasites can be small and insignificant in the human conscious plane. The next thing that happens nearly made a change in opinion about parasites themselves. Asides to hearing wheels screech, some clinging sounds coming from my feet, could things get any crazy?
“That was not a compliment!” The Quintession retorts. Well it sounded like he was complimenting my observation and memory of watching action-packed movies then trying them out against him/her. “THIS my little friend, is a complaint!” Their high pitched chimes rang out right at the exact time. They did a sonic screech! So unfair. Completely unfair. Loud shrieks can destroy hearing devices, meaing….my ears!
Hang on, girl!
“…Clear your processor, make it…silent.” Pulling things away proves a little difficult, however, my thoughts were pretty easy to ignore and no longer pay attention towards them. Every hearing and sensory system are no longer operational. Meaning, I have shut them down temporaly. Duh, cybertronians can ignore calls and make them deaf if they wanted to. Heh,. Wonder if Starscream ever was aware he could turn off his audios. The quintessons look as if they were going to puke rather than screech. “Time to die, you little—“
Lunging at them with a fully zapping electrical whip is downright epic. Very epic. Then, without really thinking at all I slammed it in between the two heads that sent out a shockwave. How do I know? Well, the force sent me flying to a rocky area between two large boulderish rocks. Fr-amachsh! Great my back hurts, got to check current state. Legs are still operational, moving that is. Audios Check. Look at my servos. They still move. Cubicles, the elbow, feel a little bruised. Feet are wobbly. So this means my entire shell is ‘fair’ or ‘fine’. At least they can’t hear my thoughts now.
I’m small again.
“Human muszt be eliminated!”
“Mind-Traveler must be absorbed to become fully qintesson.”
“I won’t let you win so easily.” I fall out from the corner of these gigantic rocks. Long hair dangling from chin to elbow, determination still fired up as Drago from Dragonheart, and living as it is… I lifted my chin up at them. “I’m a natural born fighter,” My hand grabs two big rocks. “And my mind may be cruel but it’s not that prepped for the likes of YOU!”
I threw it straight at them.
One hits an optic and the other land in the helmet of a quintession.
“We can control this plane, human; we will make it… you against you.”
Hah! What can they possibly do? The Quintessons became…me!. “Join us, you will love it.” The other repeat, sounding as more than one person controlled her. This won’t be the case for me; I won’t be her, I can’t let them take control of my body, there’s a reasonable future I wouldn’t want to mess up because of some depressing aliens. This is not me. I don’t have a fragging high pitched voice!
“Slag no!” I whip my electrical wire at the group, who thoughougly dodged it. Slag. Where did they go? Looking over my shoulder my eyes could see a faint figure when I had been forcefully punched at the back several times. So this must be wha…Yoch. Getting kicked at the cheek is not such a good idea. I stagger myself upright rubbing my check. There’s something cheesey about to be done, no offense. “T-T-TRANS—FORM!”
Got a while to be in this robot format; Locking on Target. Target must be eliminated. Parasite has to be subdued. My late servos crash upon the clone. Is she in there? I open a digit, and then get stabbed at my optic. “YOOWCH!” The quintessions mocking-laughter proves no comfort to preside in a time of hurt. Liquid dribbled down from my optic over the digitals connected to the palmar.
“Tewho cehan fehight in tehis gehame!”
Why do they have ‘te’ or ‘ce’ in the pronunciation of words?
-TURH-ICH-TURCH Now this version of me held a energy blade powered up by energon and what not. It seems wide, spookily spectacle and downright more evil than an average Decepticon weapon. Her design is complex and not quite simple, parts of quintessions are vivid as day, and instead of one face she has two other faces! Not like Animated Blitzwing. By the name of primus that would be disgraces for her to be LIKE that. Blizwing’s German not Quintession. There’s another reason to fight them not just for my body. I’m protecting my own speaking style; sometimes I likely type ‘ya’ instead of you, “Ya’ar” instead of you’re, and simply my motherlike personality—Kyle(The only Transfan who’s a boy I knew so far) told me I’m like a mom---displayed on the internet toward others. I’m a Gemini and slagging proud of it!
“Two can fight in this game, isn’t that what you said…You…are a monster. I don’t speak like…” I send a punch through the first helmet. “That!” I delivered another kick ripping out another metallic cheek-armor of on their helmet. A fighter who is in this position just does not stop in her tracks, as Rocky from the movie series kept on going in his Boxing career, and a inspiration to all. Critical hit.
I’mma call my opponent ‘Q Me’.
Q Me staggers back, rubbing its first faceplate.
“You are guility.” Q Me growls, menacingly.
“You don’t say.” Since this is my realm...I can beat it! “You will be easy…”
Finally….after a vigorous mental combat with this parasite, I managed to subdue it…Just draining my creativity at the same time. If I had to write about it then my writing would suffer since the mind rather prefers to write about something else after writing a lot of action packed dialogue…Or paragraphs to be exact. The opponent still has some energy left. The parasite has been put at bay for now…
“Next time….it won’t be so easy, dwerb.”
And then my eyes reopened.
"....Are we off the fragging planet yet?" I ask, exhausted and worn-out from the mental combat.
"Do not speak!"
He shot his cannon at a large, beastly shadow coming from afar. Just from the glimpse it’s easily recognizeable because of the shape and massive cannon sticking out from the side, generally most Transfans do not see them on other Transformers except if it’s a Decepticon or extremely respected/customized Autobot. Let’s say, I know only one Decepticon who has a big-massive cannon-- plus was capable of becoming a gun in generation one—in the Transformers continuity
"Wait that--" I start, but his large digits cover my mouth. Great. Does he have plans or something for me? How long have I been out fighting my parasite-half? Could it been roughly three megacycles or two megacycles since getting knocked out? It could be a possible outcome...But this is a 'What tha?!"for sure moment.
His camera optic blinks.
“I know who it is,” He spoke clearly. This can’t be him! He wasn’t speaking clearly at all just a minute ago, what has the Bayverse logic switched to? Does this mean he has an extra voice box lying around? “You are a dangerous object to the lives of many. You must be eliminated immediately.”
…My heart just sank.
Bayverse Swindles aren’t cool anymore.
Now it feels all depressing all over again, getting out a knife, and then heading to my room; poking it at my stomach. Remembering about the Art trades and Art Requests that mattered to me played an important role, oh boy, which helped me deciding whether or not to continue poking at myself. I assumed my attire could have a part in preventing it from going through. And when I changed my mind, the knife was put away. Nobody knew about it until I said “You know, Knives aren’t that sharp as they are hyped up to be.”
Damn. This Scout bot’s a lunatic?
Sharp pain went through my arms.
“Next one will be more deadly.” His voice seems ‘le strange’ best to put it.
How did he find out…about...There is only one Decepticon knows: The Fallen.
No! He couldn’t have told him!
Face it human he could have told—
Mind: Not by the likes of me should you speak to me again.
And then I lost consciousness.
Megatron rips out the Scout’s helmet then yanks the spark out from the red swindle scout’s chest, crushing some rib-cages from both hydrophobic areas. He grabs the unconscious human right before he topples over. “This human is mine.” The Leader growls,watching with content towards the now fallen-offlined Swindle scout.
He looks down to her, seeing gooy and some of her own blood on her arm.
“..Oh stop thinking that.” Megatron mutters to himself, turning himself slightly away to see Ravage licking it’s paw from taking down a whole herd of these beasts so the confrontation between he and the nasty traitor could get into action. “Ravage, don’t even tell Soundwave.”
The Panther makes some unusual noise.