#medic-mum

Closed RP with { @medic-mum }

Running. Running was good. It did not matter that it was on two feet and not four paws, he just needed to run. Abnormally red eyes moved almost frantically in their sockets, constantly looking down and forward, and in the long run, keeping Deadlock from face planting into the ground. His breath was as steady as it could possibly be with how fast he was going, ‘in through the nose, and out through the mouth’ repeating over and over in his head to keep him moving. He could not stop now. He had to keep running-

Deadlock screamed, something sharp biting into his leg while his teeth tried to bite into his tongue before he hit the ground. He managed to keep himself from falling onto his face, but now he was stopped, giving whatever, whoever was chasing him too much time.

He whimpered as he tried to move, breath hitching, now stuck in his throat as he managed to look at what had stopped him. A bear trap. A bear trap was digging into his leg, and keeping him grounded, keeping him from running. Trying to pull his leg free was like trying to pull his leg off. It was almost impossible and painful to the point that his sharp teeth actually did pierce through his tongue, blood dripping down his mouth now, only adding to what was dripping down his leg thanks to multiple new wounds made in the shape of a mocked bite. And it hurt. It hurt so badly, but he had to keep going. He could not stay here.

Deadlock’s fist hit the ground, nails digging into the soil as he tried to lift himself up and into a position where he could try and pry the thing open and free himself. But he’d be limping, he’d still be at a disadvantage, but moving was better than being stuck on the ground.

Rodimus, peeking out from under the box he had been crawling around with over himself, presses a quiet finger towards his lips.

@medic-mum

Due to a left-open space-bridge portal (which overheated the space-bridge, causing a not-impossible-but-highly-unlikely problem) there’s a new stranger on the Lost Light. 

The stranger is a human woman around her late thirties, with a round face and a button nose much like Ross’s, and she looks angry and terrified, and also like she had a fight with some paint (and lost.)

“No.”

Nobody gets to read his writing. Not yet.