G1/TFP/HC Fusion Prowl; SELECTIVE Side Blog penned by Steel
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz

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if i look back, i am lost
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G1/TFP/HC Fusion Prowl; SELECTIVE Side Blog penned by Steel
About | Perma Starter Call | Perma Plotting Call | M!A Status

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Howlback sends a quick comm to Airachnid and Grimlock, then nods.
"Airy thought you might hurt yourself before i could get here. I can ask my sister to send us a glitchmouse, but there aren't any here. I have six little saurians running around since the eggs hatched and most of them aren't herbivores. If we had any here, the emberlings would be picking them out of the walls."
Once Grimlock's slipped into the room, she removes the cuffs, gently, rubbing his wrists.
Checking to see if he's got any marks on him, there or anywhere else she can see.
"Then have one sent." Prowl not quite snaps, but at least his plating and field already aren't so agitated. "I... I don't..." He softens, further, when the cuffs are removed, and Howlback's checking him over, her own field calm. Grimlock's presence also settles him further. The saurian can stop him, if he can't stop himself.
Howlback sends word to her sister--Ravage, Soundwave and Megatron are cocooning with their new daughter, but that house is full of people who will be happy to bring over some mice.
To think that there were people who didn't want them to bring any! Turns out a little taste of Cybertron means more to some folks than they thought it did.
"Someone will bring us some," she says gently. "Probably more than one. They know I like them too, and the babies..." She notices his tension drop when she touches him and instinctively jumps up to sit close to him, then beckons Grimlock over. Grimlock smiles at him. "You're going to be okay," he says. "They really fucked with you, but you're safe now."
".... I know... I know I shouldn't want the... the mice." Prowl murmurs. "But... I can't stop thinking about them." He lets his optics shutter, and his field eases still more.
Howlback trusts him. Grimlock is near. He can control himself; he will. Servos work into fists, then relax again. ".... Airachnid says desiring glitchmice isn't unnatural, in and of itself." He tells her, quieter. "And that eventually I won't associate them with... other things."
A long pause. "... Am I allowed to drive around yet? Or does Megatron still think I need house arrest?"
Howlback sends a quick comm to Airachnid and Grimlock, then nods.
"Airy thought you might hurt yourself before i could get here. I can ask my sister to send us a glitchmouse, but there aren't any here. I have six little saurians running around since the eggs hatched and most of them aren't herbivores. If we had any here, the emberlings would be picking them out of the walls."
Once Grimlock's slipped into the room, she removes the cuffs, gently, rubbing his wrists.
Checking to see if he's got any marks on him, there or anywhere else she can see.
"Then have one sent." Prowl not quite snaps, but at least his plating and field already aren't so agitated. "I... I don't..." He softens, further, when the cuffs are removed, and Howlback's checking him over, her own field calm. Grimlock's presence also settles him further. The saurian can stop him, if he can't stop himself.
He simmers, quietly. Tension coils in his struts.
He waits.
Soon.
"Are you all right?" Howlback inquires. "You look hacked off."
Prowl glares at her, doors hackled up and plating flared in the approximation of a bristle.
"I want these cuffs off. Now."
Howlback's first inclination is to uncuff him, but he's been calm since they got out of Autobot space and the pull of whatever it is those afthelms call "Primus" should be faint or nonexistent.
"Wait a minute. Who put cuffs on you? Grim wouldn't have done it unless you gave him a reason to, or Airy said you needed them. I want to take them off, you know I don't like seeing you in cuffs, but I need to know what's going on."
"Airachnid," Prowl bites out, still bristling, "has no idea who I am or what my tolerances are." His scowl deepens. "... I resent being cuffed like some common Autobot thug. And there's glitchmice in the walls. There are and I want one." He's trembling a little, red optics bright.
He simmers, quietly. Tension coils in his struts.
He waits.
Soon.
"Are you all right?" Howlback inquires. "You look hacked off."
Prowl glares at her, doors hackled up and plating flared in the approximation of a bristle.
"I want these cuffs off. Now."

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@mnemoiisms started following you
Prowl stops, midstride. "Leave. Me. Alone."
He simmers, quietly. Tension coils in his struts.
He waits.
Soon.
And just like that, Prowl is himself again.
He stands. Dusts himself off.
Walks straight to the washracks in his quarters without looking to either side or acknowledging any of the jumble of delayed messages and reports.
Howlback is in there, because Prowl and she and Grimlock all have rooms of their own that share washracks, even if there's usually at least two of them on the recharge slab once they decide to sleep.
She is cleaning up an accidental dragon bite on her arm (and it IS a dragon bite, and not one of the other things Grim and Prowl worry about; she scared the Dinoking trying to help him up when he fell, so now he's fine and she's not.) When she sees him come in, she attempts to stand up and run over toward him, but she crumples halfway across the floor.
She hasn't lost much energon, but the shock and relief all at once combined with the ouch---
Prowl catches her, because that at least is reflexive, requiring no thought and only motion.
He sets her to the side of the solvent shower even as he activates it, steps underneath.
He needs to reset. This is the fastest way.
Howlback comes to and looks up at him. "Oh thank Primus you're real. I could so not deal with being your carrier-analogue even if I didn't have all of the others. Ravi took care of you and Viridian helped--I'm so sorry, but I can't be your mother..."
Her optics narrow.
"Are you all right? Do I need to get Grim?" She worries her lip. "Do I need to get Airy?"
"I am having difficulty with my tac net." Prowl tells her, and his armour is flat to his frame, his doors held at a completely neutral angle. "Please do not refer to that time period."
Howlback nods. "Not now, I understand, but eventually...eventually we will need to discuss it. Viridian, especially. For her emotional development, if nothing else." She's concerned about the emotionless way he's speaking. That's almost the way he spoke to her when Tumbler was still a problem.
"I... understand." Prowl responds, even flatter somehow, and locks down his doors before they can give away just how much he Does Not Want. He owes it to Viridian, to explain.
A pause, and then he's adding, deeply reluctant, "I will not archive and lock the memory files away completely until I have spoken to her."
And just like that, Prowl is himself again.
He stands. Dusts himself off.
Walks straight to the washracks in his quarters without looking to either side or acknowledging any of the jumble of delayed messages and reports.
Howlback is in there, because Prowl and she and Grimlock all have rooms of their own that share washracks, even if there's usually at least two of them on the recharge slab once they decide to sleep.
She is cleaning up an accidental dragon bite on her arm (and it IS a dragon bite, and not one of the other things Grim and Prowl worry about; she scared the Dinoking trying to help him up when he fell, so now he's fine and she's not.) When she sees him come in, she attempts to stand up and run over toward him, but she crumples halfway across the floor.
She hasn't lost much energon, but the shock and relief all at once combined with the ouch---
Prowl catches her, because that at least is reflexive, requiring no thought and only motion.
He sets her to the side of the solvent shower even as he activates it, steps underneath.
He needs to reset. This is the fastest way.
Howlback comes to and looks up at him. "Oh thank Primus you're real. I could so not deal with being your carrier-analogue even if I didn't have all of the others. Ravi took care of you and Viridian helped--I'm so sorry, but I can't be your mother..."
Her optics narrow.
"Are you all right? Do I need to get Grim?" She worries her lip. "Do I need to get Airy?"
"I am having difficulty with my tac net." Prowl tells her, and his armour is flat to his frame, his doors held at a completely neutral angle. "Please do not refer to that time period."

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And just like that, Prowl is himself again.
He stands. Dusts himself off.
Walks straight to the washracks in his quarters without looking to either side or acknowledging any of the jumble of delayed messages and reports.
Howlback is in there, because Prowl and she and Grimlock all have rooms of their own that share washracks, even if there's usually at least two of them on the recharge slab once they decide to sleep.
She is cleaning up an accidental dragon bite on her arm (and it IS a dragon bite, and not one of the other things Grim and Prowl worry about; she scared the Dinoking trying to help him up when he fell, so now he's fine and she's not.) When she sees him come in, she attempts to stand up and run over toward him, but she crumples halfway across the floor.
She hasn't lost much energon, but the shock and relief all at once combined with the ouch---
Prowl catches her, because that at least is reflexive, requiring no thought and only motion.
He sets her to the side of the solvent shower even as he activates it, steps underneath.
He needs to reset. This is the fastest way.
And just like that, Prowl is himself again.
He stands. Dusts himself off.
Walks straight to the washracks in his quarters without looking to either side or acknowledging any of the jumble of delayed messages and reports.
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Ravage lets her optics shutter a bit as the little one feeds. She doesn't have Soundwave's deep parental instincts, but she enjoys the warmth of her daughter and ... her daughter's friend, whether or not this is Howlback's Prowl, in her lap. And the happiness of a hungry bitlet taking fuel, and of Viridian as she sips from the cup Soundwave gave to her. And last but not least, Soundwave's loving, approving presence as he watches the little ones.
"There you go," she says gently.
"Synthwave, Shadow: napping."
"That's good." Ravage smiles. "I'd tell you to come here, but I don't want to scare him."
Soundwave nods, and sends her warmth, but he is concentrating on the little one's unguarded surface thoughts.
Prowl's mind is open, fairly unstructured-- he feels similarly, but his emotions are clearly discernable, rippling through warmth and contentment now that he is inside and safe.
Soundwave sighs, and Ravage knows she is not going to like the answer.
"Identity: Prowl. "Diagnosis: Bitlet. "Soundwave: aware Prowl built, not born. "Etiology: Unknown. "Telling Howlback: not it."
Ravage can't help allowing a chuckle to escape. "Fair enough," she says, although she knows it's not good news. How the Pit did this mad thing even occur?
"i don't know," Soundwave admits, even though she didn't ask the question out loud.
Ravage nods. "I suggest we don't tell Howlback until we tell Tara. That way they will not suspect each other. And Tara can fix it...probably." She frowns. "Starscream wouldn't have done it on purpose. But Wheeljack might have, if he were annoyed enough."
"Soundwave: will contact both Starscream and Tarantulas."
He glances over at the bitty. "After lunch."
Prowl cheeps, softly, and bitty doors relax finally all the way, tiny engine purring as he settles into more of a sprawl and releases Ravage's line.
He is full, and that has made him a little sleepy.
Ravage lets her optics shutter a bit as the little one feeds. She doesn't have Soundwave's deep parental instincts, but she enjoys the warmth of her daughter and ... her daughter's friend, whether or not this is Howlback's Prowl, in her lap. And the happiness of a hungry bitlet taking fuel, and of Viridian as she sips from the cup Soundwave gave to her. And last but not least, Soundwave's loving, approving presence as he watches the little ones.
"There you go," she says gently.
"Synthwave, Shadow: napping."
"That's good." Ravage smiles. "I'd tell you to come here, but I don't want to scare him."
Soundwave nods, and sends her warmth, but he is concentrating on the little one's unguarded surface thoughts.
Prowl's mind is open, fairly unstructured-- he feels similarly, but his emotions are clearly discernable, rippling through warmth and contentment now that he is inside and safe.