GhoulStix

• ‘Are you kidding me right now?’ Ignoring Misfire’s dramatics, Fulcrum clears his vents. ‘I’m obviously the leader.’ Hardly, but it’s not worth a fight with the Seeker to point that out. And it’s not like Misfire isn’t aware that it’s Krok that holds them all together, that makes the hard decisions. He’s pretty sure Misfire is just upset because he’s bored and wants to frag. Apparently anything will do, too. Can’t even imagine interfacing with an organic. They’re weirdly soft and well, just weird. Smell weird, look weirdly Cybertronian, and they shed. All the time. Hair and skin cells just everywhere. Shuddering slightly, he watches Crankcase shove Misfire and a couple of humans walking nearby startle and run to get clear before shooting them dirty looks.

• Checking your phone and the picture you’d been given, you keep snagging on the goggles. Why does a giant alien robot need goggles? What’s he even transform into? Some of them you can sort of guess. This guy doesn’t really lend himself to anything in particular. The name is pretty weird, too. Fulcrum. Not exactly an exciting name like some of them. Has to stink to have a name like Fulcrum when there’s Rodimus and Sunstreaker and just better names. Maybe his name just translated weird? Freezing as you round a corner and see multiple giants, you end up staring at your boots like they hold the answer to all your questions. It would definitely help in finding your assigned alien if you could actually stand to look up at them. “Is this one of you?” You call out, holding up your phone. “Fulcrum?” You’ve struck out three times so far.

• Staring blankly at the human pointedly not looking at him and holding up a tiny device, he hears Misfire swearing in their language and yours. And he wants to do a little swearing, too. Doesn’t want an alien conjunx. Definitely doesn’t want you touching him. But Crankcase smacks him on the back hard enough to rock him forward a step, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pushing him toward you. “Here he is,” Crankcase says, grinning crookedly and so much for Scavenger solidarity. Your eyes flick up and you blanch, attention back on the ground. “Don’t be rude to your future squishy conjunx,” Crankcase adds, trying to force him to bend down and he’s venting raggedly. Knows he’s going to purge if you touch him. “Say hi.”