#rocketjumpwaltz

[ SIN - Wrath ]

If it’s payback for some action against her? Not at all. As far as she’s concerned, you’ve crossed her and you deserve the full weight of retribution in all aspects of the verbal and physical sort.

She’s got very much an ‘eye-for-an-eye’ mentality, plus interest.

(🔪)—He couldn’t do anything.

He was stuck.

Blitzwing had redacted his allegiance to the Decepticon cause for amnesty, and while the Autobots had spared him, he was cast out from Cybertron. Never was he to return, and if he ever did, he would be offlined at once. He--they--belonged nowhere; the devoid of all purpose and meaning. With the Decepticon emblem across his chest damaged and torn, he would never go back to them, for Lord Megatron would slay him on the spot. With no one to go to, no where to really go, he returned to Earth, surviving off Energon he had stored in his subspace, and that was all.

He didn’t know where he was--just in one of these organic forests, and he heard sounds all around him. Sounds he hadn’t heard before, and he wasn’t sure if he liked them or hated them. Temper loathed them, and Manic seemed to like the little “hoot-hoot” sounds that would be made, but Blitzwing was indifferent. Some of the sounds he heard were bothersome, and he wished there was silence, but this was the closest he could get. No matter where he went on this planet, there always seemed to be sounds.

He placed a servo to his face, venting a long and loud sigh from his chest’s vents, and he felt the sharp, yet familiar ache of utter emptiness. Temper and Manic were either barking or chirping in his processor, and he just wanted it to stop. Shut up. Shut up. I vant silence. There was a pause, but then they continued, and he growled through his sharp denta, and into his palms. No silence for him. No rest for him. No rest for the wicked, hmm? However, his sensitive audio receptors picked up on leaves and debris crunching under foot, and Blitzwing snapped his helm up, optics brights. Standing and--whirl and click--Temper gritted his denta, and he growled.

@rocket-jump-waltz  ||  dear evan hansen starters  ||  ACCEPTING

     FAILURE IS HARDLY SOMETHING Spy spends much time at all considering. He dislikes even the possibility of it; anything less than perfection in his craft and in his line of work has always struck him as nothing other than utter defeat. Honing the art of espionage has been difficult, to say the least, but it is something that the BLU spy has invested years and years his life into with good reason. So when he creeps up behind the soldier, raising sharpened knife drive through the bigger man’s back, his first and horribly overwhelming instinct at being caught – when, surely, he did everything right – is nothing short of locking up entirely.

     Then comes the RED’s response. And for one long, terrible moment, Spy clutches the grip of his gun and simply stares.  ❝ I’m sorry – what was that, again ? ❞  The words come snarled at last through gritted teeth, gnashing and acidic.

wow......wow.......so much rude on this post