Adjustment of character, 4
My fourth or fifth time trying to post.
It did finally get a name, though. Memories of p'n'p in this chapter.
Roadstead was there on the battlefield vorns later when the femme began to flicker in. The war had reached Earth, and he wasn't really surprised to find that it wasn't his home any longer. Not because it wasn't his Earth, but simply because he was a Seeker now. His home was Vos now, and it had been for decavorns.
He was not the first to see the femme. It was the lack of shocks, and the sparkles which surrounded the flickering form which caught his attention. The first thing he noticed were the wings. That was no particular surprise. Roadstead had seen more than one aspiring Seeker OC. Almost none of them had born the requisite spark, however, and he knew not to get too excited over the familiar form.
As her colors started to come in, Roadstead could see even less reason to expect anything from her. They were hideous. She was pink. And black. And silver, and red, and gold. Roadstead counted twice to be sure, going so far as to recycle his optics.
A moment later, he realized the Autobots had retreated, and the Seeker huffed. Run away was more like it, so they couldn't be forced to deal with the new OC. Roadstead couldn't blame them, not really. He certainly didn't want to deal with her...
-Roadstead. You're the only Seeker OC on the field. Get to it,- the order came, and the brown Seeker felt his wings droop down. Only for a klick, and then he forced them back up. OCs were best at approaching and teaching new ones, and if this femme were, as seemed likely, a Sue, then she would probably react best to a 'fellow' Seeker. He would do his duty.
"Wh- what? What's... happened? What's... I'm..." The femme was looking down at herself, silver and black and red hands. And she was speaking English, luckily. That had been Roadstead's own language, and even though he could download whatever he needed for languages, he would rather not.
"A femme, yes. My designation is Roadstead. What's your name or designation?" Roadstead asked, close enough to be heard and a long way from caring who else might hear.
She looked at him, seeming stunned for a moment, and then he could all but see her realization that she was 'in the Transformers world'. Roadstead was not particularly surprised when the next thing she said was, "I'm Cerisseldaque."
Roadstead had to admit, he was impressed. Not many could manage a mouthful like that while simultaneously managing not to sound horribly arrogant. She still did sound arrogant, of course, but that was more a function of her Seeker-form. "It's what, now?" he asked, steadfastly keeping his gaze on her face. It was the best-looking part of her.
"Cerisequade- no, wait..." The femme looked discomforted, and glanced around, wings dropping as she realized that no-one was really paying them any attention. Roadstead knew better, aware that Starscream and Megatron and probably Soundwave were all quite interested in what was transpiring.
"Right. Let's try this again. My name," his human name which he barely remembered any longer, "is Adrian. What is your name?"
"I- ah, it's... I told you... w- what's going on here...?" the femme asked, staring at him in utter confusion. The familiar human name seemed to have shattered her facade. Roadstead almost pitied her for a moment, though he still tuned her out as she kept babbling.
He was confused and lost and more than a little dizzy and overwhelmed by information. He didn't recognize anything around him, or any one, and was slowly getting the idea that everything had changed.
His arms were brown now, after all. And metal. He could feel wings. And looking up, past the mech trying to talk to him, he could see Starscream.
"You've changed. You're one of us now, and there's no going back. Hopefully you'll be able to adjust." Because he did hope so. None of them actually wanted the OCs to die, even the Sues. "Well, let's get you situated..." Which meant finding Astrotrain and asking him for a ride. Roadstead did not trust the Sue to know how to use the wings she had, and her code hadn't been checked anyway. Astrotrain liked him, at least, and was already providing transport for some other injured mechs, and so Roadstead got the ride.
"You're in luck," Roadstead said as he lead the femme out, patting Astrotrain and knowing the triple-changer would be by later. "As soon as Glit's done with the injured, he should be able to do your code-check. Off-hand you don't seem to need it, but that's how it goes."
The femme looked up at him, red optics an uncomfortable clash with her red paint. "C- code check? What's that? Why... why do I, or would I, need it... I- what's going on...?"
It was clear she was on the verge of falling apart, and Roadstead huffed, flopping into one of the waiting seats outside the med-bay. He could feel optics on him, knew everyone was watching... He hadn't noticed it at his own arrival. He had learned a lot since then.
He couldn't bring himself to touch the garish, slightly overside arm. "You have become the character you wrote. Or at least a sensible- mostly sensible, version of her. We don't know why this happens. The transilation is not always... It's usually fragged up in some manner. I don't know of anyone lately who's died of missing codes, but we check them for a reason. Glit's not bad at it." Not as good as Shockwave had been, but not bad.
He was so scared, confused. Starscream had taken a personal interest in him, after he had felt his new body- chassis- hurry to follow the canon Seeker's off-handed order. That had been the first sign he bore a true Seeker-spark, and so Starscream had made him follow, brought him here, to a mech he knew.
To Shockwave.
"Who's Glit...?" the femme asked quietly. It was the quietest she had been yet.
"One of our medics." Then, even though he knew it would confuse her, Roadstead added, "I'll take care of his price. You'll owe me later." Code-checking was mostly tedious, nothing 'expensive'. Still, she was lucky that it was Glit and not Shockwave... At least she was if Roadstead was reading her correctly.
There was further luck in that they hadn't really been hit too hard by the Autobots before the femme showed up. He still didn't have her name, Roadstead mused as Glit walked up. Name or a usable designation...
"You're a cat."
And she didn't have any manners. Roadstead huffed again and cuffed the femme over the head. "He's a cassetticon. Don't tell me you thought they were drones. ...I meant it, don't. If you do, I'll hit you again."
"Just don't leave dents," Glit ordered, padding towards a spare berth. "Code check? Is she really keeping those colors?"
"Yes, and of course she isn't. High-grade, I assume?" Roadstead answered, pulling the femme along. She was too confused to fight back, and giving him dirty looks because of the blow.
"Only if 'Dash finds it," Glit answered, jumping to the top of the berth and waiting.
"Of course," Roadstead agreed, comming Metrodash with an order to get off his aft and find some high-grade for Glit. The femme didn't sit on the berth so much as she collapsed into and against it after Roadstead pushed her, and the Seeker had to look away as Glit connected the hacking cables.
Shockwave wrapped his arms around the new Seeker, going so far as to murmur soft reassurances. It wouldn't hurt, he promised. "You'll feel me, but I won't hurt you. I'll make changes. I'll make you hot. You'll feel good, beg for me... I'll enjoy this, and there's no reason you won't as well. Most others do."
He didn't know what was coming. He honestly didn't realize that Shockwave was in his code until the cyclops made the first change. Each touch was gentle, mirroring the arms which surrounded him, and that was when he realized what Shockwave had meant when he told Starscream that he was the price.
Still, he liked both the G1 and Animated versions of Shockwave. This one, the real one, was neither and both, and he was being so gentle. Just as had been promised, he was burning, and realized that he could feel Shockwave, and that he was just as hot.
The first overload had been a surprise. He hadn't realized what it was until he heard Shockwave groan, and then the cyclops had tweaking something in his code and he had opened without meaning to. The action was familiar from fics, but stunning in reality. There had been no time for fear, sharp claws reaching in to stroke across his internals, his spark. He had begged.
Roadstead still wasn't sure exactly what had happened that first night. He remembered pleasure, and had come out with impeccable coding and a taste for being hacked, which seemed to be common in mechs Shockwave had checked. Starscream had gone so far as to tease him before leaving him to the next stage of adjustment.
Still, he wasn't quite able to watch Glit hack into the femme. It had been a long time since he had found someone both willing to hack him and actually good at it, and so watching made him a little jealous. Roadstead knew it was foolish, because Glit wasn't that kind of mech, but... Well, he knew well enough that even as a mech, emotions weren't logical. Not even for Shockwave.
The femme didn't show any sign of distress, or pleasure, and soon enough Glit was pulling away, cables retracting. The femme shivered then, sitting up and looking just slightly panicked.
Well, she had suffered a kind of violation. "It's okay. He's done, you're good. Thank you, Glit, and 'Dash says the 'grade's in your office." Roadstead reached out to help the femme stand, almost able to ignore her colors. If she was as Seeker as she looked, the touch would probably help.
"What was- did he need- He was inside me!" the femme whimpered as soon as she thought Glit was far enough away. The white cassette twitched his tail, but didn't react beyond that.
Roadstead couldn't help but smirk. "Shockwave would leave you begging for more. Come on, let's get you to a room, I guess..." On their way across the base towards the barracks, Starscream stopped them.
"Roadstead. Since you're going to be sharing your room for a while, I think you need a slightly larger one... Up there. Any empty one will do," the Winglord said, tone friendly enough. It was where he was pointing that got Roadstead's attention.
He was being offered a promotion contingent on keeping this twit of a five-colored Sue alive.
Roadstead's wings slipped just a little, only enough for Starscream to notice and smirk. Refusing wasn't really possible, not unless he was ready to end his career at this level, which wasn't something Roadstead wanted. "Of course, sir. Thank you." A respectful bow that was mostly a wing-motion, and the brown Seeker was leading the femme towards the larger buildings, comming Metrodash as he did so. The red mech could move them in while he worked on getting the femme's actual slagging name.
Let's see if I have an error this time. >
It did finally get a name, though. Memories of p'n'p in this chapter.
Roadstead was there on the battlefield vorns later when the femme began to flicker in. The war had reached Earth, and he wasn't really surprised to find that it wasn't his home any longer. Not because it wasn't his Earth, but simply because he was a Seeker now. His home was Vos now, and it had been for decavorns.
He was not the first to see the femme. It was the lack of shocks, and the sparkles which surrounded the flickering form which caught his attention. The first thing he noticed were the wings. That was no particular surprise. Roadstead had seen more than one aspiring Seeker OC. Almost none of them had born the requisite spark, however, and he knew not to get too excited over the familiar form.
As her colors started to come in, Roadstead could see even less reason to expect anything from her. They were hideous. She was pink. And black. And silver, and red, and gold. Roadstead counted twice to be sure, going so far as to recycle his optics.
A moment later, he realized the Autobots had retreated, and the Seeker huffed. Run away was more like it, so they couldn't be forced to deal with the new OC. Roadstead couldn't blame them, not really. He certainly didn't want to deal with her...
-Roadstead. You're the only Seeker OC on the field. Get to it,- the order came, and the brown Seeker felt his wings droop down. Only for a klick, and then he forced them back up. OCs were best at approaching and teaching new ones, and if this femme were, as seemed likely, a Sue, then she would probably react best to a 'fellow' Seeker. He would do his duty.
"Wh- what? What's... happened? What's... I'm..." The femme was looking down at herself, silver and black and red hands. And she was speaking English, luckily. That had been Roadstead's own language, and even though he could download whatever he needed for languages, he would rather not.
"A femme, yes. My designation is Roadstead. What's your name or designation?" Roadstead asked, close enough to be heard and a long way from caring who else might hear.
She looked at him, seeming stunned for a moment, and then he could all but see her realization that she was 'in the Transformers world'. Roadstead was not particularly surprised when the next thing she said was, "I'm Cerisseldaque."
Roadstead had to admit, he was impressed. Not many could manage a mouthful like that while simultaneously managing not to sound horribly arrogant. She still did sound arrogant, of course, but that was more a function of her Seeker-form. "It's what, now?" he asked, steadfastly keeping his gaze on her face. It was the best-looking part of her.
"Cerisequade- no, wait..." The femme looked discomforted, and glanced around, wings dropping as she realized that no-one was really paying them any attention. Roadstead knew better, aware that Starscream and Megatron and probably Soundwave were all quite interested in what was transpiring.
"Right. Let's try this again. My name," his human name which he barely remembered any longer, "is Adrian. What is your name?"
"I- ah, it's... I told you... w- what's going on here...?" the femme asked, staring at him in utter confusion. The familiar human name seemed to have shattered her facade. Roadstead almost pitied her for a moment, though he still tuned her out as she kept babbling.
He was confused and lost and more than a little dizzy and overwhelmed by information. He didn't recognize anything around him, or any one, and was slowly getting the idea that everything had changed.
His arms were brown now, after all. And metal. He could feel wings. And looking up, past the mech trying to talk to him, he could see Starscream.
"You've changed. You're one of us now, and there's no going back. Hopefully you'll be able to adjust." Because he did hope so. None of them actually wanted the OCs to die, even the Sues. "Well, let's get you situated..." Which meant finding Astrotrain and asking him for a ride. Roadstead did not trust the Sue to know how to use the wings she had, and her code hadn't been checked anyway. Astrotrain liked him, at least, and was already providing transport for some other injured mechs, and so Roadstead got the ride.
"You're in luck," Roadstead said as he lead the femme out, patting Astrotrain and knowing the triple-changer would be by later. "As soon as Glit's done with the injured, he should be able to do your code-check. Off-hand you don't seem to need it, but that's how it goes."
The femme looked up at him, red optics an uncomfortable clash with her red paint. "C- code check? What's that? Why... why do I, or would I, need it... I- what's going on...?"
It was clear she was on the verge of falling apart, and Roadstead huffed, flopping into one of the waiting seats outside the med-bay. He could feel optics on him, knew everyone was watching... He hadn't noticed it at his own arrival. He had learned a lot since then.
He couldn't bring himself to touch the garish, slightly overside arm. "You have become the character you wrote. Or at least a sensible- mostly sensible, version of her. We don't know why this happens. The transilation is not always... It's usually fragged up in some manner. I don't know of anyone lately who's died of missing codes, but we check them for a reason. Glit's not bad at it." Not as good as Shockwave had been, but not bad.
He was so scared, confused. Starscream had taken a personal interest in him, after he had felt his new body- chassis- hurry to follow the canon Seeker's off-handed order. That had been the first sign he bore a true Seeker-spark, and so Starscream had made him follow, brought him here, to a mech he knew.
To Shockwave.
"Who's Glit...?" the femme asked quietly. It was the quietest she had been yet.
"One of our medics." Then, even though he knew it would confuse her, Roadstead added, "I'll take care of his price. You'll owe me later." Code-checking was mostly tedious, nothing 'expensive'. Still, she was lucky that it was Glit and not Shockwave... At least she was if Roadstead was reading her correctly.
There was further luck in that they hadn't really been hit too hard by the Autobots before the femme showed up. He still didn't have her name, Roadstead mused as Glit walked up. Name or a usable designation...
"You're a cat."
And she didn't have any manners. Roadstead huffed again and cuffed the femme over the head. "He's a cassetticon. Don't tell me you thought they were drones. ...I meant it, don't. If you do, I'll hit you again."
"Just don't leave dents," Glit ordered, padding towards a spare berth. "Code check? Is she really keeping those colors?"
"Yes, and of course she isn't. High-grade, I assume?" Roadstead answered, pulling the femme along. She was too confused to fight back, and giving him dirty looks because of the blow.
"Only if 'Dash finds it," Glit answered, jumping to the top of the berth and waiting.
"Of course," Roadstead agreed, comming Metrodash with an order to get off his aft and find some high-grade for Glit. The femme didn't sit on the berth so much as she collapsed into and against it after Roadstead pushed her, and the Seeker had to look away as Glit connected the hacking cables.
Shockwave wrapped his arms around the new Seeker, going so far as to murmur soft reassurances. It wouldn't hurt, he promised. "You'll feel me, but I won't hurt you. I'll make changes. I'll make you hot. You'll feel good, beg for me... I'll enjoy this, and there's no reason you won't as well. Most others do."
He didn't know what was coming. He honestly didn't realize that Shockwave was in his code until the cyclops made the first change. Each touch was gentle, mirroring the arms which surrounded him, and that was when he realized what Shockwave had meant when he told Starscream that he was the price.
Still, he liked both the G1 and Animated versions of Shockwave. This one, the real one, was neither and both, and he was being so gentle. Just as had been promised, he was burning, and realized that he could feel Shockwave, and that he was just as hot.
The first overload had been a surprise. He hadn't realized what it was until he heard Shockwave groan, and then the cyclops had tweaking something in his code and he had opened without meaning to. The action was familiar from fics, but stunning in reality. There had been no time for fear, sharp claws reaching in to stroke across his internals, his spark. He had begged.
Roadstead still wasn't sure exactly what had happened that first night. He remembered pleasure, and had come out with impeccable coding and a taste for being hacked, which seemed to be common in mechs Shockwave had checked. Starscream had gone so far as to tease him before leaving him to the next stage of adjustment.
Still, he wasn't quite able to watch Glit hack into the femme. It had been a long time since he had found someone both willing to hack him and actually good at it, and so watching made him a little jealous. Roadstead knew it was foolish, because Glit wasn't that kind of mech, but... Well, he knew well enough that even as a mech, emotions weren't logical. Not even for Shockwave.
The femme didn't show any sign of distress, or pleasure, and soon enough Glit was pulling away, cables retracting. The femme shivered then, sitting up and looking just slightly panicked.
Well, she had suffered a kind of violation. "It's okay. He's done, you're good. Thank you, Glit, and 'Dash says the 'grade's in your office." Roadstead reached out to help the femme stand, almost able to ignore her colors. If she was as Seeker as she looked, the touch would probably help.
"What was- did he need- He was inside me!" the femme whimpered as soon as she thought Glit was far enough away. The white cassette twitched his tail, but didn't react beyond that.
Roadstead couldn't help but smirk. "Shockwave would leave you begging for more. Come on, let's get you to a room, I guess..." On their way across the base towards the barracks, Starscream stopped them.
"Roadstead. Since you're going to be sharing your room for a while, I think you need a slightly larger one... Up there. Any empty one will do," the Winglord said, tone friendly enough. It was where he was pointing that got Roadstead's attention.
He was being offered a promotion contingent on keeping this twit of a five-colored Sue alive.
Roadstead's wings slipped just a little, only enough for Starscream to notice and smirk. Refusing wasn't really possible, not unless he was ready to end his career at this level, which wasn't something Roadstead wanted. "Of course, sir. Thank you." A respectful bow that was mostly a wing-motion, and the brown Seeker was leading the femme towards the larger buildings, comming Metrodash as he did so. The red mech could move them in while he worked on getting the femme's actual slagging name.
Let's see if I have an error this time. >