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Troubles (One-Shot and pic)

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((Warning: Skip the stuff in () if you hate profanity* ))


(FUCKING INTERNET GOD FUCKING DAMN THIS PIECE OF SHIT. I just broke my hand, and lost all the shit I just typed. Sorry or whatever for the fucking profanity. Now I'm pissed and tired. It took me two damn hours to type this fucking shit. TWO GOD DAMN HOURS. And it restarted whatever. Now on with our damn lives again.)


((Warning over, it's safe to read now.))


The stuff in the pic or in the fic/one-shot below don't happen to either OC aside from the pic. Not a ref for Razor's robot form, just something I threw together for this. The bartender was fun to design. I am not good at backgrounds, so excuse that. I usually never do them, and simply decided to for this. I have never been in a bar either, so I just drew this off of my knowledge of the TF series', and from other things and crap I know. Redbolt and his past, his sparkmate/brother, and his creators all belong to liongirl2289. All other OCs belong to me, and TFs belong to HasTak. I know the fic was kinda hard to follow, or if it was to you, just ask me about it and I'll answer any questions you may have about the setting. The stuff that happened to Razor and Redbolt in this never happened to them outside this fic. Razor's carrier is still online, and that accident never occurred. If you want to know more about it, just ask. I made it up, so yeah. This is also my first time ever drawing Redbolt. Not to mention the bartender, and a cloak or a bar. I've never drawn a hooded cloak, or either for that matter. But yeah, so here it is or whatever. I was tired the entire time I had drawn and written this too, which is why it may just look like slag. But I think I tried. I'm proud of the way Redbolt turned out in this, and despise the way [spoiler alert] Razor came out. But yeah.....

Anyhow, this is for :iconliongirl2289: 's contest. My first time entering a contest. Her OCs belong to her, my OCs belong to me. Yadayadayada. Now for the story I've been prattling on about. And sorry if I missed anything. I hate typing things twice. (Remember, I type in notepads. No spellchecker, no anything. Excuse any mistakes. I am too tired to review for repeated things or spelling errors at the moment.)


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 He wished he could just go back in time, even for a moment. Before all he had known had been lost.... The Decepticons behind him were talking casually, paying him no mind. Good.... Just how he liked it... He couldn't afford the attention. The bot sat there in thought, wondering why he came here every late night.... Risking exposure of himself to the general public, which was now looted with Decepticon activity. Most of the Autobots were all in hiding... At least the ones that had survived that day, many years before. It was nearly a century ago, but still everyone dwelled on it. Aside from the drones, who were now living the life streams of normal bots. Well, at least they got what they had wanted, instead of being slaughtered murcelessly against their own wills. Having to fight without a choice. Something that seemed to had happened to everyone all that time ago. The bot was so lost in thought, he hadn't even registered the mech that had just sat beside him. Until he spoke.

"So how'd you end up in this dump?" The honest, yet steady question that came from the slightly uneasy vocalizer snapped the bot out of his haze.

The cloaked bot looked up at the other. The one who had walked over and sat beside him was a seeker build, a young mech by the looks of it. He looked familiar..... The bot shook it off in his processor and looked into the blood red visor. It was enough to send shivers down one's spinal strut. Too familiar..... He once again shook it off.

"Are you okay?"

The bot's visor flashed in a blink, and he sighed through his vents. "Fine."

"Well that seems alright then." The young navy mech stated casually, yet at a smooth tone that seemed to had once belonged to a cheery bot long ago.... He once again shook it off. He couldn't think of Razor now, not after what he had seen happen to the poor youngling.... He watched the once-happy little bot get brutally offlined before his very optics. His creator was last seen trying to avenge her only sparkling, but she hasn't been seen since.... Only reasoning anyone could come up with was that she was dead, offlined and never to return... But then that has never happened before....

He studied the young mech for a few astroseconds, then spoke up finally. "You have a lot of insignias. Based on that many of the Decepticon's symbols, you could pass for being the second's creation."

At this, he saw a small flicker in the younger's visor. He knew he said something wrong immediately when he saw the slight slack in the seeker's wings. He flinched involuntarily.

"I.... I was the creation of the third in command, actually. Not the second. I am also.... Was also... the creation of another who had a high ranking possition on the Nemmesis a great long time ago." The seeker tried to make himself look like he wasn't as upset as much as he really was. It worked, for the most part aside from the tiny details only a bot with wings could notice. Or one who studied seekers and doorwingers.....

The bartender passed by the two from over the bar, on her way to another customer a good distance away from the two. As she passed them she spoke. "Sorry for your loss."

The seeker paved his claw slightly as a thanks to her, and she nodded as she kept going.

Then it struck him.

"Razor? Is.... Is that you.?"

The seeker perked his audios at the mention of his designation, something it seemed he hadn't heard in a long time.... "How... How do you know?"

The bot chuckled lightly for a moment in surprised disbelief. "I thought you were offline. I watched you.... " He hushed himself before he could say any more.

Razor looked at him. "I didn't offline that day, all that time ago.... I feined it. But taking some heavy damage, I had to force myself into stasis lock..."

"How on Cybertron did you do that? You were still a sparkling." Curiosity got the better of him.

"My creator taught me."

Those simple, quieted words drew out whatever surprise either of them had left. Silence persued.

The younger mech, now recognized as Razor, spoke up silently a few minutes later. "So.... Where are your creators now?"

"I don't know. Sire tried to kill me, and ended up offlining my carrier. Sparkmate tried to offline me too. I don't know what happened to any of them after... that accident."

The navy seeker nodded his helm slowly, looking down for a moment in silent respects. He looked back up shortly after.

"Bartender. Two rounds of double over here, on me." The femme behind the counter looked over at his call. A few moments later she slid over some high grade to them. Razor picked his up and started to chug at it. The bot couldn't help but feel slightly bad for the young bot. He nearly offlined, and had to watch his carrier probably offline at such a young age, not to mention his sire. All of the pain it had to put on his tiny spark at that time. And now here he is trying to chug the pain away in high grade that had been distelled twice. He picked his cube up and started to drink at it.

_________________________________________________
Later....
_________________________________________________

  It had been a couple cycles later by now, and the two simply talked about things, catching up on the years lost. Razor had his suspicions of who the cloaked mech was, but kept it to himself. He knew.

The bot set his long, sharp claws on the bar and called out softly to the bartender. "Sharpshot, two more over here, I'm paying." She walked over, taking the energon cash from him, which he had been holding and had set upon the bar counter.

Razor seemed to be staring blankly off into the distance, lost in his own world....

Sharpshot set the cubes softly down and walked off while still behind the counter, to go and clean an empty energon cube. She couldn't hardly speak anymore, her face mask seemed to be welded painfully on years before. She looked a lot like a drone, but then she looked like a predicon or a jet. He had no idea what she could transform into, but knew to keep on her good side. It wasn't easy to anger her, but she'd offline in a sparkbeat. The tail is what he'd rather stay away from. The tail can extend, grab things, and mercilessly kill a bot in a few astroseconds. The bot sighed and swilled the contents of his cube out of bored habit, and looked over to Razor once again.

The younger swayed slightly, but shook himself out of his trance when the cube was set before him. He already had one he'd been holding, and had spaced out slightly after talking to the bot about something, right after he had placed his claw on the counter with the energon credits. Razor stored the cube away in his subspace absently, taking his unfinished one and sipping at it idly once again.

The two sat there sipping their cubes for a while. Then the seeker finally decided to speak up, sounding slightly exasperated, otherwise quiet and practically emotionless, but not coldly. "You're Redbolt, aren't you." It was more of a statement than a question, and was silent enough only the two could hear it.

"What made you guess?" The bot looked at him, still holding his cube, which was resting on the table.

"I gathered enough information to interpret it."

"I can definitely tell who your creators are." They both smiled a few seconds before going back into the expressions they had before, much like poker faces, neither able to tell what the other was thinking.

Razor sighed and finished off the last of his cube, and slowly stood up from where he had been sitting, the others in the bar long gone aside from the bartender and themselves. The tables were slightly a mess behind them. Razor stretched his arms and his wings, before perking them back to where they were when he had first walked in.

Redbolt watched him, and stretched himself slightly from where he sat, but otherwise didn't move too much.

"Take care out there, okay?" The sincere words vocalized by Razor before he turned and left was enough to momentarily relax Redbolt's spark.

The mech sat there sipping at his cube for about a quarter of a cycle after Razor had left, staring off blankly at nothing, the bartender cleaning empty energon cubes and stacking them. Adjusting his hood and cloak, Redbolt finally finished off the last of the contents of his cube, and slowly stood up. He stretched his arms out in front of him for a moment, before stretching his spinal strut, and straightening himself out. Adjusting his disguise one last time, he nodded to the bartender, who had nodded at him previously. He hid his servos under the long cloak, and left. 'Time to go back into hiding again....' He then sighed lowly through his vents as he walked through the slightly cold, barren streets of the planet now inhabited by the Decepticons. 'Just hope the medibot doesn't try to find me again.... But then that's the least of my worries right now....' Redbolt once again shook off his thoughts as he continued deeper into the dark abyss he now called home....

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liongirl2289's avatar
Sister I love it!!