Line of ... : Between flashbacks.
Line of ~~~~~ : Going from a flashback to regular time or whatever
Alright, so I have some explaining to do before we get started. Please read this so it'll- hopefully- make more sense.
Rage is my OC. I'm sorry if anyone else has used this designation, but it's actually the name of my dads truck. (I know I'm weird.) He's Barricade, Bonecrusher and Blackout's mechling. Though, he got his final upgrades a year or so prior. He's solid black and his alt mode is a 2010 Chevrolet Silverado. Blackout is his carrier also. Second off, 'Cade, 'Out and 'Crusher are not their 'usual' selves. They would actually be the 'originals'.
When the war was just beginning, Megatron learned of their talents and set about trying to get them to join the Decepticon cause. When they refused,- wanting to stay neutral- he was- obviously- infuriated. He sent a number of different mechs to find the three. And even had a bounty set on their helms when that didn't work. Eventually though,- after all his plots failed- he had Shockwave make clones of the three. And also of Starscream and his trine, Soundwave and his cassettes when they also refused. So, pretty much all listed are actually neutrals and have evil doubles. (Which sounds so weird now that I think about it.) Barricade, Bonecrusher and Blackout's 'twins' were offlined during the first movie. The others are still online though. Oh, and Blackout's character is completely OOC. I did that on purpose. I like him acting goofy and find his character likeable like that. He's fine either way I guess, but still.
Hopefully it'll make more sense now. Just tell me if it doesn't.
Disclaimer (Since I forgot last chapter): I don't own Transformers. Only Rage, Katlyn, any other OC's that pop up and the plot.
Chapter 2
Sharp eyes concealed from the world lock onto the tattered wall managing to stand proud and tall before her. The multi-colored target sloppily painted in rings sticking out blaringly, even with the holes littering its surface.
Digits twitching against metal proceeds the shriek of air, accompanied by the connection of the blade in the corner of the blue ring. A disappointed sigh clears her lips as a steady clomp of boots bids her attention, a glance over her shoulder yielding the familiar drawl of apathetic lips.
...
Her back hits the wall with a solid thump. Bones most definitely crying out in an unheard plea. Her mind blanks to its usual blur as blow after blow is lashed over her skin, surely leaving marks. Though, she doesn't notice, nor particularly care. The only thing that keeps her grounded is the presence soothing her mentally. Talking about everything and nothing. Streaming steady threads of love and calm. The only ground in this tornado of emotion and 'I'm worthless' 'I deserve this'.
...
''GIRL!''
Her breath rushes out in inaudible pants against the sharp wind slicing through the thin jacket concealing her torso. Her Converse connect with the shattered road in harsh strokes. Feet pound behind her with a dreadful speed, the legs they're connected to being much longer than her own. An unforgiving grasp stalls her trek through the darkened neighborhood, swinging her around to send her flying into the concrete.
Her back connects with the hard street, skull thunking down to lay on its floor as they both surrender to further torment.
Green eyes crack open to stare at the faintly visible ceiling, blinking to clear the haze away. Her back slowly straightens into an upright position with three successive cracks, fingers following its lead when she balls them into a fist and presses them against the opposite palm.
A sigh escapes her chapped lips as a hand monotonously drags down her face. The events she'd just been privy to thanks to her devious memory deciding to grace her with those unforgettable acts in her life weighing her down more than she'd like to admit.
Her bare feet connect with the gray-carpeted floor silently as she slips away from the warmth of her oh-so-soft blanket and sheet, standing on unsteady legs to pad through the open door of her bedroom.
The tv can dimly be heard playing as she tromps down the stairs, already knowing the others are online and not seeing any reason in hiding her presence since they already know she's up as well. And has been throughout the entire night.
Slouched over the slab that was made into a couch is Barricade- her guardian- and Bonecrusher. Both of whom offer her grunts of acknowledgement, crimson optics solely focused on the movie their watching. And is that Men In Black?!
''Femme!'' An all too familiar, squealing war cry sounds behind her. She has just enough time to brace herself before she's abruptly scooped up and squished to a pleasantly warm chassis, directly over the hum of his spark.
''Hey, Blackie.'' She greets in turn, ghosting a hand over the metal she's being smothered against soothingly.
''You're suffocating her.'' 'Cade calls, gaze still trained lazily on the flatscreen.
''Oh! Sorry!'' He pulls her away slightly, just enough to where oxygen can actually flow through her lungs.
She offers him a consoling smile. ''It's fine.'' She pats his closest digit.
Beaming at her, 'Out bounds over to unceremoniously flop between his two mates, scooching in and forcing them to move off to the sides. They growl slightly at his antics but shortly return to their entertainment.
''Hey, squishy?'' Blackout peers down at her from her renewed position on his thigh through his steady digits running through her mop of curls.
''Yeah, 'Out?''
''Do you have to work today?''
''You know the answer to that.''
A whine bubbles out of his vocalizer. ''Noooo!''
''You know I have to.''
''No you don't!''
'''Out, shush before 'Cade and 'Crusher pulverize you.'' She chastises gently, referring to the glowers aimed at the biggest, yet most softsparked, of the three.
''They love me too much!'' He grins giddily, thrusting his arms out to wrap around his bondeds, earning low growls.
''Blackie...' She warns, planting her hands on her hips in a 'don't test them, or me' display.
''Fine.'' He pulls away reluctantly, crossing his well-armored arms over his chest plates, obviously pouting.
Her arms drop as she sighs, running a weary hand over her face as she turns around to settle back down into a sitting position, arm propped up on her cheek to watch J's chocolate milk craving unfold.
A gust of air blows over her,- disheveling her attire and mass of multi-colored spirals- holding the scold, concern and short bundle of other emotions she's all too aware of the mech she's seated on holding. The bond between them opened slightly as it always is.
''Don't start, Blackie, please.'' She grumbles into her palm, not wishing to interrupt the moment.
''Fine.'' He huffs, no longer pouting, though the 'we will talk about this later' remains unsaid. Unneeded as it is.
The rest of the movie is spent in companionable quiet. The only sound being from the blaring tv speakers and the occasional Blackout giggle or rough grunting chuckle from Barricade or Bonecrusher.
By the end though, she's reluctant to leave their side but knows there's no use in delaying the inevitable. It's never gotten her anywhere, afterall.
''I'm gonna go get ready I guess..'' She mumbles unenthusiastically, rising to her feet fluidly and stepping lightly- not that it's hard- over the length of black armor until she can jump to the ground, landing easily and straightening with a creak.
Acknowledgements rise behind her as she exits the room, bounding back up the stairs from long practice- having full on sprinted up and down them more times than she could count- to trail into her room, door shutting behind her with a squeal.
The drawers of her dresser are yanked open with a remembered ease, hand rummaging around until she finds what she desires from all three of them. The worn black Metallica long sleeved shirt, ripped and beyond-faded jeans are thrown on in short order, along with her black Converse. Of which are the very same ones from her memory earlier. The thought makes her eyes clench in a moment of pain.
Though, it lasts for all of two seconds before she's making her way back downstairs. Where she grabs her keys, wallet, knife and chain from the human sized table at the bottom of the staircase.
''I'm out.'' She states bluntly after clipping the shiny piece of metal along her waist and stuffing her other essentials in her pockets, waving slightly.
Grunts are her reply. Along with Blackout's cheerful ''byyyyyyye, fleshy!''
The clang of metal follows her shaking head as she makes for the monstrous- compared to her admittedly puny size- doorway leading into her mechs' shared quarters and- ultimately- the entrance and exit of the garage. She still ponders over the four of their organization skills in building the place.
Inside is the hunk of metal that could easily hold six Blackout's, the nightstand and cluttered-with-'Out's-random-junk desk. A black mass can be seen on the edge of the berth closest to her, arm dangling over the edge and providing her with ample opportunity to climb up.
''Rage.'' She pats the younglings chassis once atop him firmly, yet lightly, even with her size.
A single midnight optics unshutters slightly to focus on her, a grunt serving as a greeting as the arm she'd used to climb up clamps over the appendages.
''That's what you get for staying up all night.'' She lectures her charge halfheartedly. Earning a grumble.
''Like you can talk.''
''I know.'' She nods in agreement. ''Still.''
A low groan is her only warning to move aside- which she does, hopping down to land beside him on the berth- as Rage rolls onto his side, shoving an arm into the metal to support him into a sitting position, servo still rubbing over his optics.
''Sorry, buddy.'' She pats his side in empathy. ''I can walk if you want to stay and recharge.''
A glare is her answering 'Pit, no'.
Her mechling-just-in-his-final-upgrades pushes off of the berth, landing with a clank after the two foot gap from the floor. He wordlessly offers her a servo- of which she immediately clambers onto- before thundering out of the room, towards the garage where he lowers her to the floor so he can transform. His engine revs in successive bursts as the drivers side door pops open, music beginning to pump through the box speakers he'd had her install beneath his backseats as she climbs in. The slightest of smirks tilts her lips at the song choice: Yellow Brick Road by Eminem.