Comments Posted By The Wanderer
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Relationship genuineness or not. Blank after that. And here i thought my mind works quick.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 01.08.2019 @ 9:33 am
“Shift your stance. You must balance your weight.”
The sky is still grey. Colors, the faintest flickers, are beginning to surface near the horizon, racing along the clouded edge and blazoning the arrival of the sun.
“Lower your center of gravity, but don’t let it dip. It’s important to be stable when channeling the light, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.”
Ikora’s hands are loosely folded behind her back as Fiona readjusts her hips. Her foot pivots about the axis of her heel and her boots squeak lightly across the enameled floor.
“Without balance you have no peace. Without peace you cannot understand the intricacies of the Light, and you will fail when you are needed most.”
Her eyes are closed. All other sounds but for her mentor’s voice have drained away, leaving a moving, breathing silence.
“Do you feel it?”
Beneath her feet the earth is humming. It beckons forth the light, the light that is vibrating in every pore of her being, the light that is spilling over the edges of her consciousness, the light that is dripping from her soaked soul and singing up from the wells of her being.
Her lips part, and she breathes in a thin breath.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I feel it.”
» Posted By The Wanderer On 11.26.2017 @ 4:44 pm
“I wouldn’t go for it, Prime,” he rumbled, eyeing the document. “This is too sudden. Surely this can’t be for good ends.”
“I know, Skyfire, I know,” the leader sighed. He brought a hand to the crest of his helm, digits dipping into the light dent decorating the metal with an absent movement. “The humans can be trusted only so far. We have yet to determine how deeply Megatron’s influence runs.”
With a deep silence, they stared at the formal document, fear hanging heavy on their shoulders.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 03.17.2017 @ 11:54 am
The book snapped shut.
With a quiet sigh the librarian lifted the board, slipping through the entryway and lowering it gently as she crossed to the other side. From across the main room the student was packing his things, papers previously dropped to the floor being reorganized and pens being slipped into their pockets. She reached his table just as he slung the backpack’s straps over his shoulders, and with silent gratitude he passed her the worn textbook.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she called after him as she headed for her own packed bag.
A nod was her answer as the door swung shut behind him.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 03.13.2017 @ 12:31 pm
“Yes, a concert, duh? You didn’t know we were going to see a band play?”
“No, I didn’t, I–I’m not in the loop very well.”
She laughed, a confused, obligatory sort of sound. “I’m not…sure how you could have missed that, it was…it was all over every social group we have.”
An anguished chill tingled up my spine. “I…I’m not…in any of those.”
She fell silent.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 02.22.2017 @ 5:22 am
All these were symbolized by the iron hammer that was striking the iron blade. The black of its impurity was dark and true, and as he lifted the blade it glinted dully in the flickering light of the furnace.
The tongs gripped it firmly, and he dipped it into the bucket of water to his left. Steam rose in plumes as the familiar hissing echoed from its depths.
In a few days, the blade would be mounted onto the crest that adorned the back wall behind the throne, just as black and impure as it was now. Their faction would fall, but it would not be this time.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.21.2016 @ 9:35 am
Having been on earth for some time–nearing two decades now–it was easy to see that despite his best efforts, he had grown on the planet. It was, oddly enough, significantly larger than his homeworld; yet its inhabitants were much, much smaller and most delicate than any of his kind. It was an interesting fact and he found himself more interested by it than offended.
The Ark was still embedded deep into the volcano, having never budged since its crash landing millennia ago. It still served as the faithful Autobot headquarters, and it still kept them safe from their enemies as it had all those years ago.
These humans, too, were a marvel. Their culture was bizarre, and their customs odd, but in a way not so unlike their own. The way this planet teemed with organic life was both a blessing and a curse.
The sunsets, at least, were beautiful.
Mirage noted this as he leaned easily against the golden exterior of the Ark, backstruts protesting from the day’s earlier Decepticon encounter. For all its faults, this planet had become like a home to him and his fellow crew.
He decided he was okay with that.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.11.2016 @ 9:07 am
“What…what is this?”
“It’s a car wash. It’ll get you all squeaky clean.”
“I do not wish to squeak.”
“It’s an expression.”
“It does not make much sense.”
“Wait, what are those?”
“They are approaching quickly. Should I be concerned?”
“No, those are just–”
“Why are they hitting me repeatedly with some form of solution, I am not–”
“Prowl, those are just the–”
“I do not find this enjoyable.”
“Prowl, relax, it’s just soap on the–”
The Autobot jolted as the undercarriage cleaner activated, and Spike’s head hit the roof with a dull thump.
“That is…most rude.”
Spike didn’t respond this time, clutching his head and groaning softly to himself. Why he and Carly kept insisting on taking the Autobots to experience various car-related places on earth, he had no idea.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.10.2016 @ 8:37 am
He jumped, the datapad in his hands nearly slipping as the cube resting on the small table beside him quivered with the motion. With one hand he threw up his shades and with the other he steadied himself(and the datapad) on the chair, peering at his brother in distaste.
“What the pit, Sideswipe?”
With a broad grin, the red Lamborghini struck a pose from the top of the soap-covered hill. “Watch this!”
He took a few steps back, then propelled himself forward at top speed and leaped off the hill’s crest, letting out a cry of glee as he landed harshly on his chestplate and began a mad slide down the hill. Trailbreaker, who was busy helping scrub off the excess oil from the tanker truck’s crash, snapped his helm upward in time to be bowled over by the laughing mech, and his own yell of surprise and indignation echoed from across the field.
They landed with a loud crash on the asphalt at the bottom of the hill, and Sideswipe’s laughter was cut off with a clank of metal punching metal as indiscernible angry speech left Trailbreaker’s mouth.
With a despairing sigh, Sunstreaker scowled, replacing his shades and reopening the files on his datapad.
What an idiot his brother was.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.05.2016 @ 3:53 pm
“Okay, so you’re trying to tell me that this is worth five dollars, right?”
He nodded, an uncomfortable prickling beginning at the back of his neck.
“If this is worth five dollars, then why are you carrying five hundred dollars on your person?”
He shifted, glancing between the two officers. If was going to get out of this, he had to be quick.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.05.2016 @ 10:20 am
Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she realized how her words sounded. Stumbling over herself to explain, she sputtered, “No, no, n–I–that’s not–okay, that sounded really bad, but I–it–”
He turned stiffly, quickly hiding the stunned expression that crossed his face.
“I PROMISE all I wanted was to ask you how your day went!”
» Posted By The Wanderer On 10.03.2016 @ 9:11 am
“What do you MEAN, it’s not VALID?”
With a quiet, forced breath, the security personnel dragged a hand down his face and thumped the thin book onto the counter of the security station, his distaste for the woman’s reaction dripping off every motion.
“I mean it doesn’t qualify as a registered passport. You cannot pass through international borders without a fully registered and valid-”
“I just bought this YESTERDAY!”
“Ma’am, would you please step aside, you are blocking-”
“How in the name of everything holy is is INVALID? I paid good money for this, and if you don’t–”
He tuned out the moment she began another ranting spiel of how much this was going to affect her investors’ views of her and how much hell she would rain down upon him if she didn’t let him pass. The annoyed traveler behind her attempted clearing his throat, but it did nothing to attract the attention of the fuming woman. Perhaps this would’ve gone smoother if she hadn’t bothered to stand in the center of the walkway.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.29.2016 @ 9:22 am
(entry for parking, 9.17.16. This idea wouldn’t go away so I figured I would write it anyway, oops again)
“Okay, good, doing good, now just slowly start to back up and–brake brake BRAKE BRAKEBRAKEBRAKE–”
A dull thump echoed from the rear bumper, and Carly winced as a frustrated cry echoed from the dull green Toyota.
“Why is this at all necessary?! What proof is needed that I’m ‘safe to drive’?! I’m a Cybertronian, an Autobot even, for Primus’ sake! I’ve been driving almost my entire existence! What is there to question?!”
As she opened the passenger door to retrieve the fallen cone, Carly decided it might not have been the best plan to take Brawn with her to the BMV.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.28.2016 @ 9:14 am
(for yesterday’s onward. meant to write it in school but forgot, oops)
“Do you think we’ll ever get home?”
The sudden question had broken the thin sheet of silence that lay draped across the dead volcano. The desert flat below was a warm, dull color, the color of sun-baked sand.
He turned, brows furrowing in the orange light of the low, heating sun.
Bluestreak’s face was a myriad of emotions, ranging from uncertain to anxious. The most prevalent one, however, was a distinct trepidation that left his tanks roiling with a sinking sensation.
Blustreak’s doorwings drooped faintly as he averted his gaze from the rising sun, meeting the other’s optics dead on.
“Is there even a chance?”
He sighed and shifted his stance, considering the question. His answer came with a degree of certainty such that he surprised himself.
“Of course, Bluestreak. There’s always a chance that we’ll get home so long as we don’t give up.”
A moment of silence passed, and Bluestreak tilted his helm slightly, returning his gaze to the spectacle of the sun.
“That makes sense. Thanks, Springer.”
The rest of their morning routine was a comfortable silence.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.28.2016 @ 9:02 am
My pocket was full. Reaching down to undo the button holding its latch, I couldn’t help but notice that despite its bulging exterior, very little weight was actually pulling on the leg of my pants.
Upon digging my hand into its interior, I felt a soft bundle, and withdrew the object to peer at it as it rested in my palms.
It was a very large ball of lint.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.28.2016 @ 8:39 am
“Any progress on that AC?”
The wafting waves of heat were nearly overbearing by this point. The first hour hadn’t been too terrible; the lingering effects of the then-functioning AC had been heavenly, drafting through the Ark like some beating of angel’s wings. Then afternoon had rolled around, and the sun, at its highest point, was harsh and unforgiving, beaming down mercilessly on the panting trio. Ice had been brought out and house fans had been plugged in, all to little avail against the might of the sun.
Spike stood, wiping the sweat from his brow and releasing a forceful gust of air. His brows furrowed and he reached for the cup of icy water on the small table to his right.
“I’m trying, Carly. It’s real fussy for some reason. Maybe Teletraan-1 is disagreeing with it for whatever reason?”
Sparkplug peered out from beneath the golden-orange console, squinting up at the younger girl practically melting in the doorway. “Optimus isn’t sure either, so we’ll have to just keep searching for whatever disconnect there us.”
Carly sighed, fighting the urge to slump against the (certainly-blistering-hot) metal wall. “Maybe I’ll just ask Bumblebee to run me out to the gas station for another ice bag…”
Spike shrugged, returning to his fiddling. “May as well.”
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.26.2016 @ 9:14 am
A quick blow rapped against his chest, and a shrill whistle echoed in the otherwise empty gymnasium.
“Another one, huh?” the opponent panted. Their stance oozed expertise, their movements light and footwork deft.
The first raised his rapier once more, breathing as heavily as his foe.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.21.2016 @ 10:12 am
The kitchen was bustling with the various sounds of appliances and tools. The delicate metallic scratching of a whisk striking a metal bowl repeatedly harmonized with the warm sound of the gas stove and the bubbling of the water-filled pot on the back burner.
“Where are the chocolate chips?” she shouted over the ruckus. Her red-and-white plaid apron was immaculate; not a single stain was present.
Another head poked out from behind the open pantry door.
“Not here,” Laszlo called back.
With a sigh she set down the bowl and turned towards the cabinets, rummaging through each while muttering to herself.
“Has your father got the grill going yet?”
At that moment the back door opened, releasing wisps of black, pluming smoke. A rapidly blinking father stood in the doorway with an awkward grin.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.20.2016 @ 8:58 am
“Smoked, grilled, blackened, or charred?”
The man was staring at me blankly.
“Smoked, grilled blackened or charred?”
I brought my hand to my mouth, attempting to hide the nervousness on my face. Human customs were strange enough; learning the complexities of their cuisine and dining fashion was even harder.
“I just want some salmon, please.”
“Yes, well, would you like it smoked, grilled, blackened, or charred?”
I had no idea what any of those options meant, and I quietly glanced down towards the menu.
“On second thought, I’ll just have a salad, please.”
The man sighed, flipping a pen from his pocket and scribbling onto the notepad. A moment of silence passed before he looked up at me.
“Ranch or Italian?”
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.19.2016 @ 10:54 am
The world had been a difference place when he was smaller. Cars had been big, rumbling monsters of a machine; music came through now-vintage records or the local diner’s jukebox. Clothes actually covered your skin; the collars were always upright and suits were a near necessity.
He watched as his youngest daughter giggled at her older brother’s music.
It was all just timing, he supposed.
(typos are killer, fff)
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.13.2016 @ 8:39 am
The world had been a difference place when he was smaller. Cars had been big, rumbling monsters of a machine; music came through now-vintage records or the local diner’s jukebox. Clothes actually covered your skin; the collars were alrights upright and suits were a near necessity.
He watched as his youngest daughter giggled at her older brother’s music.
It was all just timing, he supposed.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.13.2016 @ 8:36 am
“Listen, Sam, I know how much you want this.”
Sam was silent. The wind was light, stale; the jungle forestry around them was rustling faintly.
“We don’t need it.”
Nathan’s voice was strained. He lifted a hand towards his brother pleadingly.
A distant boom echoed. Rafe was still at work.
“Let’s go home now.”
Sam turned his back on the island.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 09.08.2016 @ 5:43 am
“Grab the knife!”
He scrambled towards the other side of the tiled floor, yanking open the drawer and frantically scouring through its contents. A triumphant cry echoed and he rushed over, thrusting the knife in the other’s direction as his hand slapped onto the counter to steady himself.
The second snatched the knife from him, dipped it into the jar, and slapped the contents onto the surface on the table in front of him, movements erratic and hurried. The knife clattered to the table as he grabbed the second layer and slapped it on top of the first.
A moment of heavy breathing passed.
The smack of two palms striking echoed.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 08.31.2016 @ 8:51 am
The door clicked.
Instant adrenaline shot through his system. The door was creaking slowly, and as the keys jangled in the lock, he leapt to his paws, tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, Winston, I’m home!”
The voice! It was definitely her! He began jumping, a few excited yips leaving his throat as the door opened fully, revealing the smiling face of his master
» Posted By The Wanderer On 08.26.2016 @ 10:17 am
The bottle was slim-necked, a sheer green that hardly disguised its nature. The glowing center was reflective, as if someone had placed a small mirror within it; the tatters of what was once a scroll were floating in what saltwater remained.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 08.25.2016 @ 8:52 am
Yellow. Red? No, orange. Scarlet? I think it’s called scarlet.
It’s a very bright flower, nonetheless. Reaching down, I plucked it carefully from the small mound of snow its steam was buried in. There was a tiny patch of grass surrounding it; I could tell because of the bits of green poking out from the bottom.
I took a whiff, and I was jolted by confusion.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 04.30.2016 @ 5:15 pm
“What a wondrous winterland. Wait, no, that’s not it…wonder winterland. Doesn’t sound right. Ahh, perhaps winter…winterland? Winterland…it’s so close yet so far, mm…”
I watched him struggle to form the words that were so close in his mind. It must’ve been hard, immensely hard, to try and fit into our world; humans were immensely strange and complicated when it came to social norms. His kind was still very new to the planet, and despite PROA’s efforts, most outlanders–it was rude to call them “aliens”–were a bit lost on how to get around.
“It’s winter wonderland, Nakkhi.”
Good thing I was there to remind him.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 04.29.2016 @ 7:12 pm
It was overflowing, almost. He frantically scrabbled across the counter, his tiny paws attempting to jam a plastic tupperware lid that was nearly twice his height over top of the cookpot. It hardly helped, the foam continuing to gurgle over the edge as he tossed the lid aside and grabbed at the ruffles of fur on his head in a panic.
“She’s going to /kill/ me when she gets back!”
He had only wanted to make some of the delicious wheat-based dish she called “ravioli”. Now here he was, babbling frenetically while attempting to stop the bubbly onslaught.
Being a tiny, opposable-thumbed fox was not easy.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 04.28.2016 @ 3:15 pm
The atmosphere was screaming with laserfire. The roar of jet turbines would pass every ten seconds or so, dirt and debris spraying from the desert flat as the sharp whine of null rays machine-gunned the air.
Trailbreaker threw his back against the smoking boulder, clearing his laser rifle free of excess energy with a sharp sequence of motions. He ducked his helm as the seeker trine made another pass, sand and dirt granules spraying across his structure.
The instant the static in his audial receptors faded he whipped up and around, discharging several bolts as returning fire hissed past him in all directions. He was forced to drop back into cover after a mere few seconds, the web of hostile fire too thick to risk.
A servo suddenly gripped his shoulder, and his helm snapped around to come face to face with the opaque windows of a semi.
“Trailbreaker, we need you on the defense, not the offense.”
Trailbreaker brandished a sparking, ragged hole in his left side; the corner of a small piece of circuitry was visible, warped and blackened and still sizzling faintly. Dried energon stained the edges. “Would if I could, Prime.”
The servo tightened.
A soft exhale was heard as Optimus looked up, towards the cackling silver figure glinting in the harsh, hot sunlight.
He ground his denta, concealed behind his faceplate.
“Then we’ll have to be fast.”
» Posted By The Wanderer On 04.27.2016 @ 10:33 am
Back To Stats Page
I looked up.
After so long. All this time waiting, scratching the surface of what could’ve been.
It was paying off at last.
I watched as their hand slowly lifted. Their eyes caught mine and a friendly smile curved.
Their fingers lifted.
Senpai had finally noticed me.
» Posted By The Wanderer On 04.26.2016 @ 10:22 am