#fatecalled

It was strange. Not long ago Jazz had felt fine. Sure there was a few moments where breathing got a little hard but it just meant she had to rest and slow down a little. Other than that, she was absolutely fine and was doing her best to entertain and learn about the planet she had landed on.

Suddenly though, it seemed to turn for the worse. It started with another fit of having a hard time breathing, which wasn't new until it felt like her whole body was sapped of energy and started to ache in a way it hadn't before.

It was hard to keep away the question, even if it wasn't verbally said.

"Was she dying?"

Well, it was a good morning for the former Decepticon, until he heard the approaching footsteps of one of his own. Still, he didn't move. Haybail leaned against a small rocky hill, just outside of the farm he's spent the last several Earth years hiding from his past. Thankfully, the owners weren't home.

His face was covered with a gaint straw hat he made himself. Arms and legs crossed. A small smile formed, as he tried to guess who it was. An Autobot coming to arrest him for his crimes? Or a Decepticon here to rip out his spark for punishment?

{➹} – IT TOOK MORE willpower than the hero would admit in that moment not to panic. He knew what he was looking at and the tension that filled him had effectively fused him to the spot. Deep down, he knew the thing towering over him wasn't what his brain had concluded. For a number of reasons, it wasn't one of Robotnik's...

But machines, Chaos...they put him on edge like nothing else. His instinct was to fight, to reduce the thing to scrap metal there and then, but he didn't. Not due to fear, but more a common sense.

“He’s lucky Gibbous hasn’t attempted to attach herself to his ankle.” Yes, the pair had met the larger sized human and their first encounter had not been very pleasant. Beyond his yelling, the man continued to refer to Gibbous and himself as if they were property.

Any attempt to get him to sign a paper would end in the agent being told where he can shove the pen sideways.

sari's head absolutely SPINS , sharp ringing in her ears deafening the sound of everything but her sparkbeat . there's a pulsing , heavy pain match it pounding in her head . everything is a just too much to absorb right now . it all assaults her senses . 

battle mask slams back to the sides of her helm and she takes in greedy breaths of air ( good news – there's still air ! bad news – it kinda hurts . ) . then , she starts coughing . stars fill her vision and she reaches out blindly through some wreckage surrounding her , yelling ❝ OPTIMUS ? BULKHEAD ?  what the frag was that ? is everyone okay ? ! ❞ 

The way it had called them was concerning to Knuckles. It was the echidna that truly understood the call the Master Emerald was making, but he had brought Shadow to it for reassurance. It was a cry for help.

Shadow gave a squeeze of the other's hand as they stood there. "I'll come with you."

"No way!" Knuckles huffed. "Someone needs to stay here with Kawiil."

"Then you can do that, and I'll go." Shadow was determined to go either way. Which of course was just maddening his husband who gave a extra strong squeeze of his hand. Enough to make the hedgehog flinch slightly.

"You're not going alone." Knuckles said as they stared the emerald down. Shadow gave a small smirk. They both were too stubborn for their own good. "Kawiil can watch the island. She's old enough."

Neither seemed to move though. It was daunting to think of leaving their daughter on the island alone. They could end up miles and miles away. However, delaying help to someone who needed it wasn't going to turn out well. Knuckles reached out to touch the emerald, turning to ask Shadow if he could teleport to Kawiil to tell her what was happening quickly, when both adults were suddenly tackled.

this is the impasse. the headache. the chore. where a forked road functioned as a distraction and all chatter at the far end of their party turns back to him. asks without asking whether or not his heading was true. they could've been following in circles and he imagined their pace wouldn't have changed much. overeager for their bedrolls, his eyes trace the outline of one set of shoulders.. another. each passed without a second glance meant patience had run its course and damaen's wave was just as much a dismissal as it were disregard. " go where you please if you've somewhere else to be. " surely their parasitic tag-alongs would wait.

it's how the afternoon went. bled a funny trickle into eve and a crested moon made short work out of dispersing the crowd. let the gith snarl in her tent.. the mage could pout to his silent goddess and for all her wisdom they'd be no further come morning if his mind hadn't settled. why, he imagined, her stare rankled so sure. around the conch of a pointed ear.. down the slope of his neck and the tendon strained there upon as he turned to catch her. large eyes, too unlike his own to feel any true connection, aridani earns the rise of his lip.

" —what ? " cool, neither barking nor confrontational, the lull that follows harbors shadows of his quick-sinking mood. what's lost, nightly, to the call. cruel, whispering, an unscratchable itch sits at the back of his throat and what was meant to be casual collapses his posture into a stubborn slouch instead. close to a curl, defensive and obstinate, " save your songs for.. " —anyone else. for the morning, dawn more palatable than this shivering darkness he hears far too many noises in already. save it for days worth celebrating.. for a mind unchallenged. " another occasion. "

The Many Faces: Accepting