Abandoned for their own protection, only to be abused by the one supposed to raise them, Lena and Alex Rose are slowly thrown into an alien war after meeting Emerald, heir to the Decepticon faction. Once confidential information is leaked to the ent...
Alright! Let's see if I can write that many words without needing to break off to a cliffhanger! Btw, this chapter goes out to FlammusPrimus 'cause I want a new chapter of 'Weapons of Lyrics'. Gotta get some Angelmus and Flammatron! XD
Wait. If Primus is AngelBlade's sparkmate... ANGEL IS RUNG'S SPARKMATE!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I love how when I downloaded the image, it was automatically named 'unknown'. ... That's a reference for those that read Lost Light...
Also, ya'll better be safe! Wash your hands, keep a 6ft distance from anyone, don't horde toilet paper(Share some if you have a lot). Never thought I'd have to say that about toilet paper of all things. Hand sanitizer, I understand. Toilet paper though... you'd think that if there is a new world order after this the currency would be toilet paper squares...
Wheeljack landed his ship in the northern hemisphere of Earth to go over an ornly checkup on the Jackhammer's systems and hinges to make sure nothing flukes or gets stuck during an attack. Currently, he stationed himself outside, reviewing the wiring of the side of the ship.
The soft snow underneath his peds stuffing itself into the seams and cracks of the pedes. Wheeljack would care less about the organic substance, knowing that it would naturally melt later but the ex-wrecker heavily disliked having to buff away the rust. He silently thanked that it wasn't so severe that it was too dangerous for him to be in the habitat for less than a few breems, minutes on Earth time. A lopsided grin stretched his face, a little cold isn't anything to Wheeljack after all the battles he, Bulkhead, and the rest of the old team had gone through.
No sound except for the hum of his engine, the sound of the welder fixing his ship, and moderate pedesteps lightly crushing the snow behind him. Wait. Pedesteps?
The wrecker turned around, a seeker femmer with a mesmerizing green and white painted armor with blue streaks on her wings. The two froze, watching each other to see if the other will attack. Three things stood out on the femme that the Autobot took immediate notice two. One was the small golden crown. Two were the piercing red optics that Wheeljack swore he's seen somewhere else before. Three was the smokey-purple insignia resting in the middle of her chassis. A Decepticon insignia.
Frowning, Wheeljack took a battle stance, the retracted battle-mask slid across his face, concealing all but the light blue optics that went from curious to resentment. Sighing, "Why do all the attractive femmes gotta be 'Cons?" Not counting Arcee. Wheeljack will admit that the two-wheeler is a looker, she's just a femme-friend.
Wheeljack noticed the femme's faceplate turning bright blue, "A-attractive? Well... I-I'd save the compliments for your ship. It's's gorgeous. By any chance is your ship made of Phrik metal? I thought the Gromanians outlawed Cybertronians from mining it seven million years ago?"
