Transformers Rescue Bots - The Present

81: Quick Show - S

Quickshadow finally appears, and yet, her questions about Sigma 17 make for some rather intense feelings.
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Quickshadow was a very secretive Femme, something which she has learned from a very young age. She was born from the Well, raised in a group home with a bunch of others, which meant very little privacy. She taught herself the art of Secret Smart Stealing, something which clearly explains her own behavior.

She was very curious though, and due to a lack of items which were provided when Optimus Prime even assigned her to this job with Digma 17, Quickshadow wished to learn much more about the bots she was working with for this moment only.

"So, I assume that you all came from other bots from your exact ages." Quickshadow says, all the bots standing in conversation as the humans are afar. "But who exactly made it so you were here like this?"

"My creators were Wreckers." Boulder says, not planning to just randomly give out names to this Femme. Quickshadow seemed ok with his answer, as some respect was there somehow.

The bots debated who should speak next, which then Blades decided to go with his idea for an answer.

"My Carrier's name is Ratchet." Blades says, which the Femme quickly turns around. Quickshadow seems to be in shock for a few moments before then clearly showing how much she somewhat wondered how this bot before her and Ratchet could even be mentally related to one another. "I-Is there a problem?"

"No." She assured, but heatwave could tell that was certainly a lie she just spoke out of her mouth. "What about you? You seem like you have something better."

"Ratchet cared for me for a while, his sister was the one who raised me." Quickshadow definitely seemed surprised by a lot of what Heatwave decided to say at that very moment.

"I was not aware the medic had a sister, she seems. . . . .Hostile."

"Actually, she was very kind and held much wisdom, obviously, no one else knows that because a virus killed her." There was so much happiness with his words that Blades was very much terrified, after all, it is a habit Ratchet carried onto him. "Now, if you are really wondering who my creators are, that is an answer I cannot give. I never met them, don't know their names, but I do hope they are dead."

Quickshadow seemed to be a little disturbed now from all that, finding herself lost while Heatwave looked as if he needed therapy (which he does). She moved on, notice how Chase hasn't said a word.

"What about you, law enforcer?" She asks, Chase literally looking as if he was debating to tell the whole truth about his creators, or physically lie.

"Why ask about us when we don't know you?" Chase questions, clearly not wanting to just have his personal life dug out of. "All of us could've just lied to you, but yet again, you seem like you are looking for a supposedly correct answer. I will speak for all of us when I say that you really know how to make your judgments obvious to us as we very much know how to read others through much learning, now, we will not speak anymore of our lives but rather be given some context to your presence."

Quickshadow was eerily quiet, blinking a bit as she processed exactly what had been said to her.

"Alright then, your creators seem very stupid." Chase was certainly offended by her words there. "I can see it with what you just said. Anyone else?"

Quickshadow guessed to herself that she went too far, and as much as she would apologize, she had no idea where to start. She was born from the Well, and her creators quickly ditched her to that group home, until she eventually was adopted once more. The bots that adopted her were not that great, they constantly judged her, constantly made rules, and left her with absolutely no privacy.

She knows some of the habits from back then sometimes happen to her now, as this confrontation being one of those unfortunate moments. She knows she has extremely upsetted the group, and yet, she couldn't find the words to apologize. Quickshadow was always taught that saying sorry doesn't matter, and that no actions or words could even fix what had been done.

She wanted to fix what happened, but based on how they all looked at her, she accepted the fact that she once again was a failure.