"So what? The Decepticons will never accept peace. They want the Allspark to themselves."
"You know, they say the same thing about you. It's... concerning. Your ideological differences are almost irrelevant at this point. Your courage and conviction are no longer virtues. They have devolved into the kind of stubbornness and bloody rage that makes war so... awful."
"I dont take sides. Not anymore." he pauses for a moment. "Call me a guns for hire."
"So you were only ever in this for the violence? I'm not usually a man to fear for others, but you have put yourself in a terrible position. Neither side is likely to trust you enough to hire you, regardless of how skilled you are."
"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
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Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"So you were only ever in this for the violence? I'm not usually a man to fear for others, but you have put yourself in a terrible position. Neither side is likely to trust you enough to hire you, regardless of how skilled you are."
"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
The dragonoid looks away. "It was always about violence..."
He starts sketching a picture of Burnout.
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"So you were only ever in this for the violence? I'm not usually a man to fear for others, but you have put yourself in a terrible position. Neither side is likely to trust you enough to hire you, regardless of how skilled you are."
"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
The dragonoid looks away. "It was always about violence..."
He starts sketching a picture of Burnout.
Burnout watches them, head tilted, confused
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He skids to a stop and uncompacts hands raised in a gesture of peace
She narrows, her wings snapping outwards. She gestures for him to follow her but her hand doesn't leave her blaster.
He follows her, faceplate sill down
After a moment she walks up to a door and knocks. She tilts her head down as the doors swing open. Megatron sits there, on a throne of destroyed autobots, their faces ripped and contorted in pain.
"What..." He snarls.
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"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
"So you were only ever in this for the violence? I'm not usually a man to fear for others, but you have put yourself in a terrible position. Neither side is likely to trust you enough to hire you, regardless of how skilled you are."
"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
The dragonoid looks away. "It was always about violence..."
He starts sketching a picture of Burnout.
Burnout watches them, head tilted, confused
When he's done, he closes the sketchbook. Its cover reads: Book of Nightmares.
"This entire place... it's a hell of your own making. It's horrible. I can't even find a way to work with it. Everything is just so awful that no one even feels the need to improve. A homogenous purgatory for the strong. An ocean of blood with no purpose or meaning."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He skids to a stop and uncompacts hands raised in a gesture of peace
She narrows, her wings snapping outwards. She gestures for him to follow her but her hand doesn't leave her blaster.
He follows her, faceplate sill down
After a moment she walks up to a door and knocks. She tilts her head down as the doors swing open. Megatron sits there, on a throne of destroyed autobots, their faces ripped and contorted in pain.
"What..." He snarls.
"Megatron...I come in peace. You see no crest of Autobot or Decepticon on me, yes?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"So you were only ever in this for the violence? I'm not usually a man to fear for others, but you have put yourself in a terrible position. Neither side is likely to trust you enough to hire you, regardless of how skilled you are."
"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
The dragonoid looks away. "It was always about violence..."
He starts sketching a picture of Burnout.
Burnout watches them, head tilted, confused
When he's done, he closes the sketchbook. Its cover reads: Book of Nightmares.
"This entire place... it's a hell of your own making. It's horrible. I can't even find a way to work with it. Everything is just so awful that no one even feels the need to improve. A homogenous purgatory for the strong. An ocean of blood with no purpose or meaning."
"This planet is doomed anyways."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
When he's done, he closes the sketchbook. Its cover reads: Book of Nightmares.
"This entire place... it's a hell of your own making. It's horrible. I can't even find a way to work with it. Everything is just so awful that no one even feels the need to improve. A homogenous purgatory for the strong. An ocean of blood with no purpose or meaning."
"This planet is doomed anyways."
"I'm not sure there's even anything I can do here. The hatred, the ennui... it's unbearable. I should probably just leave at this point..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
When he's done, he closes the sketchbook. Its cover reads: Book of Nightmares.
"This entire place... it's a hell of your own making. It's horrible. I can't even find a way to work with it. Everything is just so awful that no one even feels the need to improve. A homogenous purgatory for the strong. An ocean of blood with no purpose or meaning."
"This planet is doomed anyways."
"I'm not sure there's even anything I can do here. The hatred, the ennui... it's unbearable. I should probably just leave at this point..."
"I'm afraid thats not really possible."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The gold dragonoid is at the Iron Kettle, examining what teas they have to offer.
Outback appears from the back and smiles, waving a hand. "Ello! What can i getcha?"
He smiles and nods. "Hello there. I was wondering if you had anything here that has an especially strong aroma. I cannot drink, but the scent of tea always calms me. I've recently had the misfortune of learning about the actual situation this planet is in."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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"Up until recently i fought for the autobots. I fought to protect the Allspark. Now...now im just a guns for hire."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He chuckles and flips down his goggles again "Use that to your advantage. Play towards whatever side will hire you."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He nods. "Whoever pays better, i'll fight for."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He grins and salutes "See you lovely!"
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"See ya..." he then compacts and speeds off to Megatrons palace.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The dragonoid looks away. "It was always about violence..."
He starts sketching a picture of Burnout.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The Halls of Megatron glint darkly in the morning sun. Sparkhell stands outside, sharpening her nails. She looks up, optics narrowing.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
Burnout watches them, head tilted, confused
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He skids to a stop and uncompacts hands raised in a gesture of peace
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She narrows, her wings snapping outwards. She gestures for him to follow her but her hand doesn't leave her blaster.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He follows her, faceplate sill down
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
After a moment she walks up to a door and knocks. She tilts her head down as the doors swing open. Megatron sits there, on a throne of destroyed autobots, their faces ripped and contorted in pain.
"What..." He snarls.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
When he's done, he closes the sketchbook. Its cover reads: Book of Nightmares.
"This entire place... it's a hell of your own making. It's horrible. I can't even find a way to work with it. Everything is just so awful that no one even feels the need to improve. A homogenous purgatory for the strong. An ocean of blood with no purpose or meaning."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Megatron...I come in peace. You see no crest of Autobot or Decepticon on me, yes?"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"This planet is doomed anyways."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"I'm not sure there's even anything I can do here. The hatred, the ennui... it's unbearable. I should probably just leave at this point..."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I'm afraid thats not really possible."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The gold dragonoid is at the Iron Kettle, examining what teas they have to offer.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Outback appears from the back and smiles, waving a hand. "Ello! What can i getcha?"
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He smiles and nods. "Hello there. I was wondering if you had anything here that has an especially strong aroma. I cannot drink, but the scent of tea always calms me. I've recently had the misfortune of learning about the actual situation this planet is in."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.