Blizzard

TAGGED BY: @patternedwings​

TAGGING: I’m coming of hiatus just because I checked the meme and liked it so uhhhh whoever

You can do it man, I believe in you!

goddess-mothra replied to your post “((sorry for the sudden absence, a bad cold wiped me out for a few...”

((Hang in there! Hope you feel better soon ♡♡))

However, as some of you might have suspected from the declining activity here, real life stuff is enough that with or without illness I don’t really have the energy to continue these blogs at the moment. Hopefully this will change after the second week of October, because I’ve really enjoyed doing this, but until then I’m probably just going to be lurking.

<<Indeed.>> Ghidorah replied flatly. <<You are to us like snow is to you.>>

The way the mecha argued was vaguely amusing. The three heads looked at each other in silent deliberation, and turned to face the mecha with matching grins of sharp, gleaming fangs. They crawled forward, leaning down to peer at the tiny creature. They raised a wing, and slammed it to the ground, the resulting wind and thud jostling a giant heap of snow to fall on top of them as well as their apparent host.

They chittered in laughter, and started to sniff at the snow, trying to locate the mechanoid.

Blizzard matched the creature’s grin with a much less impressive baring of his own teeth before the sudden mini-avalanche startled a shout out of him. 

The pile on top of him wasn’t quite heavy enough to render him completely immobile, shifting around he though he might be able to scrape his way loose, given the time. Time that seemed like he might not have, judging from the scrapping sounds from up above. Again, ambush protocols raised their options.

“Oh I would love to get my hands on one! Though if they are sentient I wonder if they have their own form of government…if they do I would almost certainly need to go through the proper channels for the sake of education purposes…Did it seem as though they had some sort of ruling or law system in place?” He got her going with an unknown, and there were few things that brought her so much joy as the unknown did. 

“Heh, fair enough. Seekers at least partially rely upon a fuel based propulsion system anyways, these dragons sound as though they’re fully mechanical, which means that they don’t use fuel to take off. Though one could consider energy to be fuel, at least where organics are concerned.” 

“Didn’t really seem that way, they were kind of spread out. Seemed more like they had their own separate territories, but I dunno. Maybe they were all paying dues to some king dragon or something. Didn’t really come up while we were fighting.” As these things typically didn’t. Unless one had a particularly long and informative warcry, he supposed.

Repost, bold all of the themes that apply to your muse’s aesthetic or mood as a character, italicize the themes that could apply

Bloodied knuckles | Tear stained cheeks | Rust | A busted lip | Claws | Fangs | A bloody nose | Chattering teeth | A dark space underneath the bed | Scratching noises on a wall |Creaking metal | Fog | Dancing under moonlight | Blood dripping lips | Heavy breathing in the dark | A feeling of unexplained dread | A figure in a dark corner | Dirty peeling wallpaper | A bloody handprint on the wall | Sobbing in the dark | Bite marks on the skin | Eerie whispers | A hood covering a stranger’s eyes | The growl of a hidden animal | The sound of a blade being sharpened | A deep, dark forest | Walking on the streets alone at night | A cobweb-filled, abandoned building | Eyes darting in paranoia | A heavy beating pulse | The feeling of being trapped | Struggling to get out a scream | Boards covering broken windows | A quiet graveyard | A gas station in the middle of nowhere | A road that never ends | Heavy fog rolling in | The scent of blood in the air | Eerie old photographs | Walking along train tracks at night | A chill going up the spine | Gathering crows | A dusty, dimly lit study | Mist over a deserted cobblestone street | Ghost towns | Shadows around a campfire | The sound of chanting | Church bells tolling | An orange harvest moon | A broken down carnival | A dirty stuffed animal abandoned | Wiping bloody hands on fabric | Nightmares | Waking up in a panic | A power outage | Heavy lightning storms | A secret trap door | The feeling of being watched | Fear from trauma | A Ouija board set out on a table | An eerie doll | A scream of anguish and pain | Withered plants | A room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust | Owl eyes in the dark | Curled, dead tree branches | A ritual altar | Flickering candles | A lantern held up in the dark | Fear of being followed | Creaking floorboards | Repressed, horrible memories | Clenched teeth | Soft, echoing piano keys | An old book covered in dust | Many pairs of glaring eyes | Stumbling in pitch black darkness | Being stranded in the middle of nowhere | Tarot cards on a table | A trail of blood

<<And the snow was here before you, yet here you are.>> A-deen retorted, indulging in a rare moment of petulance. Dhva continued to chitter at T-rhee’s expense, receiving a glower from the cowering sibling.

Ghidorah noticed the shudder, but interpreted it as a sign of fear towards their regeneration. So the tiny mecha had some manner of sense after all. Its question gave the hydra pause. They didn’t particularly want to stay here, since there was indeed very little here to entertain them, but they also didn’t want to give the impression there was leeway for discussion about their presence on this planet.

<<We grew weary of our travels.>> They replied, tucking their wings close and propping them in front of their chest. <<We had not landed on a planet for a long time. We were bored.>> And would continue to be so, it seemed. There was apparently only one tiny mecha here and no one else to fight.

“The snow ain’t exactly going to lay a claim,” Blizzard said dismissively, scowling darkly. Were this dragon thing any less huge, he wouldn’t hesitate before forcefully stating his claim. But, alas, he didn’t have the firepower.

Yet, at least. Maybe he could defer this confrontation, see what the armory had in the way of long rage weapons. Shells designed to pierce a spark chamber surely wouldn’t have any problem with the hide of some over-achieving lizard.

Primus, the mech needs to cool down. Blizzard and Sentinel aren’t even remotely atmospherically compatible people, and the old Prime just shakes his helm at the comment with a wry smirk. 

He chuckles a bit. “I’m sure it was political commentary. I am not the … most popular around here, with it being a mostly Decepticon establishment. Fortunately, many of the mechs here don’t really know who I am, so perhaps I can turn their opinion around.”

There’s a minor shrug under the cloak. “Or maybe I won’t, and that is fine as well. I won’t be here forever. With any luck, perhaps the age of Primes is over, though I suspect it isn’t. Who knows? Maybe the next Prime will have been a Decepticon, hm?”

The snow begins to come down harder, swirling gently in the wind. Sentinel would love snow if it weren’t for the bitter temperatures that has to come with it; it’s pretty, and he likes looking at it. When it’s quiet and late at night, the soft, almost imperceptible sound of snow falling reminds him of the feeling of deep peace he’d once had in the Well. 

“I think it is odd for many people in some ways,” the red mech comments. “Many of these mechs were always around others, but in a military setting. They had someone to tell them when to get up, when to eat, and what to do. Now they are having to learn how to live a civilian life and it is very difficult for them. Many have nowhere to live at first, so there are outreach systems everywhere, shelters and such with a sort of barracks set up where they can go.” Sentinel gestures, pointing down the block to the right. “The one here is down that way a few kliks.”

Remembering, he looks over at the polar tank. “Did you see the academy? It’s nearly done – it’s general education, but it’s free and the professors are donating their time in trade for housing and other such things. We are building many of them across the planet, and they will cover the entirety of primary education.”

Blizzard grunted in agreement; from what he’d seen, there were very few names more hated than Sentinel’s, and that was only because he hadn’t been around in the war to spark more personal grudges.

The old Prime’s next statement earned him a sidelong look. “You ain’t worried that if they keep hating you this much they’ll listening to you?” he asked incredulously, before his mouth curved in a frown. “Wha’d’ya mean ‘you suspect’? Just say no one gets the Matrix after you and it’s over, right?”

He subsided into silence, staring into the whirling distance and barely noticing the increased weight of the snowfall. It wasn’t coming at him horizontally, carried by winds that threatened to bowl him over, so it was barely worth registering. Especially here, in a relatively flat area where a misplaced pede isn’t going to send him tumbling down a crevasse.

“Yeah, I can get that,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Had some trouble dealing with that myself. But, since then I’ve been. . . more or less on my own. That’s what I meant, it’s weird to just see so many people after it’s just been me, the mountains, and occasionally a voice over the comms. Kinda overwhelming after a while.”

He shuttered his optics, shaking his helm to clear it and giving the old Prime a look that almost dared him to comment.

“Interesting, interesting…I wonder if something in their biology allows them to be able to harness such elements of nature. Something in the throat perhaps…or an additional organ in the abdomen that isn’t of the standard in most reptiles and mammalian animals…” Not to mention the apparent appearance of sentience, and if it wasn’t true sentience perhaps a form of mimicry? Such as parrots and other birds were capable of doing..? 

“That makes sense, I would imagine that the downward motion of the wings would force air and possibly create a vacuum between the ground and their wings…or perhaps some kind of rudimentary propulsion system? Force exerted by the wings then creates lift..hmm…” 

Blizzard huffed, mildly amused at her scholarly enthusiasm. “Your guess is probably better than mine, Doc. Wouldn’t know the standard organ array if I saw it and I’m not exactly equipped with the tools for a. . . neat dissection.”

<<That gives us equal right to claim this planet.>> Not that hydras would ever stay on one planet, but they were not about to leave just because a random tiny mechanoid said so.

T-rhee whimpered in pain when the mecha chopped his tongue off. He reared away, dribbling a line of blood through the snow. Tears stung his eyes, but his tongue quickly grew back. Dhva was nearly choking on laughter. A-deen snarled, and swooped down to bite T-rhee on the horn, rousing another pitiful whine.

Stop being an embarrassment. He scolded his sibling, who cowered and lowered his head.

<<Evidently not.>> A-deen replied, tone flat and unimpressed as he turned back to the mecha. <<We are staying. You cannot stop us.>>

“I was here first,” Blizzard argued. “A long time before you.”

He watched the section of tongue regrow, unable to fully clamp down on a repulsed shudder. That was not how body parts should behave. Bad enough that this thing seemed to have three barely connected personalities, judging from the way the three heads were waving around each other. 

Of all the organics to invade his planet, it had to be a weird one.

Ghidorah let out a huff, blowing a cloud of white. <<You are not native to this planet. It is not yours.>> They crouched to better see the tiny creature, three heads peering at it from all angles.

<<We are a hydra. Our wings are strong. We travel the Great Silence. This cold is tolerable.>>

While the middle head spoke, the side heads leaned closer. The one on their right sniffed at the creature, while the one on their left stared with avid fascination. Drawing near, the left head flicked out his tongue to lick the mecha on the chest. A shriek of alarm sounded as his tongue got stuck. He pulled back immediately, dragging the mecha along.

The head on the right burst into loud cackling. The middle head grimaced. They both watched their sibling thrash and whine, neither willing to help.

“Things that are native to it don’t seem to be making a claim, so don’t see why not,” Blizzard argued. He snorted at the creature’s claims - he didn’t know what the Great Silence was, but he doubted that anything so organic looking would find these temperatures ‘tolerable’.

Blizzard leaned back as the two giant heads approached. He was distracted growling at the right head when the left swung in and fragging licked him. Almost before the head reacted, Blizzard transformed his hand into an axe and started slashing at the tongue still stuck to his cold plating.

He certainly had her undivided attention, even if it wasn’t exactly the things that she wanted to know about she conceded the fact that there was a strong possibility that he wouldn’t know the answers to the kind of scientific questions that she had in mind. Of course that wasn’t going to stop her from trying either. 

“Fascinating!” It seemed she was saying that a lot lately, oh well, “It spoke and everything? So the creature had some kind of sentience about it? And others with other types of breaths? What kind?” 

“We saw fire, ice, and electricity breaths,” Blizzard said, squinting at nothing in particular as he tried to remember. “They definitely were sentient enough to communicate, and one of them seemed to extracting a toll from those passing nearby, so I guess they were pretty clever.”

Sentinel sips his soup, throwing a bit of a look in Blizzard’s direction. “I speak all of our planet’s major languages. All off them. You try learning all of the dialects and you’ll find that some don’t come as naturally as others.” He pauses for another bite. “Kaonite, Tarnish, Simfurian, and the other glottal languages give me trouble, but you’d never know I’m not from Tyger Pax, Crystal City, or Tagon Heights if you heard me speak them. I even speak Vosnian passably enough that the Seekers don’t hate it.”

“So don’t assume I didn’t learn them properly just because you want another reason to resent me,” he finishes, going back to his food. It’s good, and the bowl is warm in his hands. 

But in a blink, the tank’s bowl is empty, causing the old Prime to blink. “… Primus’s Light, mech. If you’re still hungry, find something else that appeals. It’s all pretty good.”

“So,” Sentinel hugs the cloak closer to himself, soup clutched close. So cold. “What have you seen in your wanderings?”

Blizzard grunted, loathe to admit that his opinion might not be based on fact, but sufficiently distracted by good food to be unwilling to argue the point.

Instead, his optics scanned the neighbouring stalls in a considering fashion. Most of the foods on offer were served warm, which made sense, it was winter her after all. However, being adapted to much harsher climes detracted from the appeal somewhat, and with the soup already raising his core temperature uncomfortably, he decided against it.

“Maybe later,” he said, attention moving back to Sentinel and trying to keep a straight face as he noted how much the cold was bothering the old mech. “Need to cool down a bit.”

Any previous concern over the awkwardness from the previous part of their conservation immediately vanished without a trace, her expression one of curiosity and intrigue. “Fascinating! If you don’t mind I think I would love to hear more about this alternate Earth?” 

What was the climate like, she wondered? Was it like here or totally different? Was the planet bigger or smaller? Were the constellations the same and were they even in the same solar system? She had so many questions! What about these dragons for instance? Were they reptilian or amphibians in their biology? 

“Sure,” Blizzard said, more than happy to tell the story of a glorious victory. “So, me and some friends went dragon hunting in this place. We started out in the foothills of some mountain range, bit warmer than I like, but fine enough. Until one of them started a forest fire while we were settlin’ a disagreement.”

All three heads swiveled towards the voice. They spotted a small mechanoid, painted to resemble the colour tones of the planet. At first, Ghidorah wasn’t sure what the thing was referring to with bringing down a mountain. That was when they remembered that loud noises broke the snow and caused them to roll down slopes.

Scoffing, A-deen raised his head, lips curled. <<A mountain is of no consequence to us. We are large, unlike you.>> He spoke in thoughts, a direct transfer between minds. Peering down at the mecha, he arched a brow. <<Are you native to this planet?>> This place didn’t appear mechanical, unless there was civilization underground.

<<We would’ve expected organic species.>>

Blizzard snarled at the intrusion of another’s words inside his helm, clutching at his forehead for a moment. Plating shifting in an ineffectual attempt to make himself look bigger, he leveled a glare at the creature.

“No, I ain’t, and neither are you. Get the frag out of my head and then get the frag off my planet.”