Affection unbound
Chapter IPain…Death…Oil splattering everywhere…Help…HELP ME! It hurts! Don't let'em near me! NO! NO NO NO NO NO! Not the red X! Let me go! LET ME GO!
Lockdown woke with a raspy screech, spranging up like the plant after the rain. Panting, he looked around him, jerking his head left and right, fearfully expecting to find himself in the middle of the dreaded scrap yard.
Nothing. No smoke, not dead, gray metal, and, most inportantly, no red X-es. Only the softly glowing monitors of his beloved ship stared back at him, still showing the list of top bounties in the last year. Letting out a long, deep exhale, Lockdown let himself spump back onto the console with a solid „THUMP". Offlining his spindle crimson optics, he let a humorless smile creep onto his stark features.
Huh... Ah must've fell 'sleep a' work 'gain...heh...
No sound. And for Lockdown, none was needed. Why bother with sounds when one has no audios to listen to them? Besides, vibrations were doing the job for him just nicely, thank you very much.
Pushing off his console, he stretched his arms above his helm, metallic joints poping and straining as he eased the tension out of his mismatched body.
Might as well take a walk...
The bounty hunter was sitting on the beach of the lake Erie. The sun has sttled already and it was steadily growing dark, but he did not care. The Death's Head was near, cloacked like the enormous rock. Simple, but effective.
Lockdown felt water drop on his black spiked shoulder, and looked up. The sky was starless and he could see dark clouds swirling threateningly above. The storm was picking up, and he knew he would be the only one outside from now on. Maybe. Well, no fleshbags at least.
He saw the lightning flash against the darkness of the stormy sky, and mere seconds later, one of the most powerful vibrations in the universe wracked trough his body, shoting up trough his backstruts to his Spark. But Lockdown seriously suspected that the vibrations only rang trough the empty Spark chamber. After all, the monster like him could not possibly have a Spark.
Lockdown almost did not see the shadow that was cast against the dark lake, waht with being too absorbed the seconds between the thunders out of pure boredom.
Almost.
Whipping up, falling into a defensive stance, and a little spooked out at how all of his ninja training was not so completely lost to him as he tought it was, he fully expected that accursed, gorgeus, talented opticless ninjabot with his throwing disks at the ready. Needless to say, what Lockdown really saw shocked him so much he fell onto his aft back in the mud.
There, basking in the light of the lightnings and rain, lip components parted slightly and helm thrown back, was a bot with wings similar to Blitzwing's and a cockpit for a chassis. It looked like a fembot. By the features of the body it looked like the neutral, a bot, but the stance was far too straight and the readings of the Spark far too strong to be anything short of a femme.
The new bot turned to Lockdown and extended her servo to him. He stared, wide opticed, and he probably gaped like a glitched turbofish for a moment too long. The fembot's mouth fell into a frown and she went to pull her servo back. Lockdown, snapping out of it, snatched the small servo into his own one and the fembot smiled, helping him up. He was impressed. For a small body, she sure was stong. about decieving apperiances.
Now that they were standing faceplates to faceplates, or, rather, faceplates to chassis, Lockdown could finally see this mysterious little femme. She was muddy, but he could make out the vivid purples and greens of the paintjob. The helm was purple with two green stripes on each side and green, round audios. An oddly shaped crest adorned the fembot's forehelm. He moved his crimson optics forther down, to look the femme in the optics. Except there were no optics visible. Rather, cracked Prowl- like visor stared back at him, and Lockdown could see blue optic-light seeping trough the .Weird. No Autobot had purple-green paintjob, much less flight-capable. Not that Lockdown knew about, anyways. No faction insignia visible either, but it was hard to tell with all of the sticky mud stuck on the fembot's armor.
Ah well, all or nothin'.
„Who're ya?"- he asked.
The femme stayed silent. Lockdown frowned and felt his temper slip.
„Hey kid, Ah'm talkin' to ya! Ah'm Lockdown, wha's yer designation, fraggit?"
The femme turned her visor away and looked to the wet soil. Finally she threw her head back, tapping her neck with her left srvo. Lightning chose that particular moment to strike, and Lockodwn saw sparks dancing around the long fingers and the exposed vocalizer. Broken, rendering the bot mute.
Sighing, the fembot turned her helm to the say, not meeting his optics, far too shy and self-concious to do anything but stare ar the ground, nervously biting her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around her chassis. He could see small fangs peeking under the top lip component, biting the bottom one so hard Lockdown was wondering how the metal did not buckle and rupture under it.
Lockdown mused for a while, staring the fembot down. If he took her to his ship, he was risking everything. The bot was a complete stranger to him, and, for all he knew, this could all be some kind of trap from either sides and he would be deactivated before the end of the night.
On the other servo, he was awfully curious. This little femme was a mystery to him, a mystery he itched to solve. Besides, she looked like she could lose some help.
Since when do Ah care 'bout helpin' the bot's in need? Lockdown growled and cursed under his breath, too quietly for the other one to hear above the thunders and beating of the rain. Ah'm growin' soft, dammit. Ah'm challengin' the death sentence rite now...Okay, her' goes...
Making his processors up, already at the peace with the fact that he was severely glitching and psychotic, Lockdown snatched the fembot's servo in his own, starting to pull her towards his masked ship. The bot, naturaly, resisted. He actually twisted out of Lockdown's grip and fell into a defensive stance.
Far too annoyed to notice or care about the pure ninja stance the fembot was in, Lockdown sighed and rolled his optics. Figures. The damn femme did not know nothing of him but his name, and to be frank, he would react the same way she did. But he would import himself to the Pit before admitting it to the universe out loud.
„C'mon, kid. Ah'm gonna help ya. Ya can say wit' me, if yeh wanna. Ah'm itchin' for some company anyway."
The fembot's mood performed an all out 180° swing. Dirty face lighing up with the biggest smile known to universe Lockdown tought was pretty much physicaly impossible, the fembot leaped up and latched onto him, nuzzling into his chassis and Lockdown realized with more suprise than he cared to admit that he was, for the forst time in at least two billion years, hugged. Fragging hugged. From a complete stranger none the less.
Ah seem to git suprised a lot taday...
Thankfully, the petite fembot let go almost instantly, backing up a few steps, looking toroughly ashamed and flustered, and bit her bottom lip again, mentaly berating herself for being so ignorant. What were you thinking, hugging a complete stranger like that!Stupid, ignorant, severely glitched femme!- she screamed inside her helm. She snapped it back up when Lockdown spoke.
„C'mon, kid."- he said, taking the fembot's servo in his own one, enclosing in completely.
He led the way to his ship, unknowingly opening the doors that were locked for far too long in both their Sparks, creating a bond that would last trough the centuries to come, and would not break even when their shells cease to function.