Cybertron has been revived, but Predaking enjoys the planet he knew as Earth as well. There were far more creatures than he could count, and most were as connected to nature as him. Instinct ruled them, though this beast was far more civilized and c...
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(Y/D) whimpered. She wasn't supposed to be here. It wasn't safe without Predaking. It wasn't safe without Tapper. It wasn't safe without Darksteel and Skylynx. Yet here she was trying to be fearless again, chasing after a scraplet that tried to devour her new toy drop-ship Tapper had found. She just wanted to teach it a lesson, and did so, by squishing it under her pede. Now she was lost in a back alley with strange, tall buildings and no familiar smell to guide her back- the winds had not let her scent remain behind her, and blew others elsewhere. Despite knowing it wouldn't work she transformed to her smaller mode, sniffing deeply, but the scents around her only went hither and thither in the harsh winds that only meant one thing: acid rain.
These winds held a toxic smell to them that burned the sensors, making her wipe her faceplate in a vain attempt to make the annoying sharp pain go away. Like snorting pool water saturated in chlorine, she couldn't escape the uncomfortable feeling, and she knew it meant danger, as it had appeared twice before within the last six months. Her armor might be tough, but it wasn't tough enough to withstand the natural acid of Cybertron's weather. No one's was.
"Tappy?" She decided to call, looking around the darkening alley, "Tappy I was bad- I'm sorry." She started to leak lubricants, walking where she thought she may have come from; or perhaps it was the other way.
She hid behind a waste transport as someone opened their door, pulling in a metal box before droplets began to fall.
(Y/D) hissed, covering her helm before trying to outrun the rain that stung. Her (F/C) and (S/C) paint chipped and peeled as she cried, steaming from the acidity. She cried harder as the droplets turned to pelting rain that left no space dry. The youngling ducked under a bench, barely small enough to fit underneath, having to tuck her wings in tightly. She had to curl up as best she could, an uncomfortable position considering she was already squished into her alternate form. The smell of her own burning metal and the world around her alone made her want to purge her tanks, the lingering pain unbearable when she considered she couldn't fight anything to make it go away or run from it. She was stuck with it.
"Tappy- I was bad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"
The electrical *crack* of lightning lit up the entire sky, traveling through the droplets and white-washing anyone's vision who dared open their optics- (Y/D) had no choice but to be blinded. Her optics didn't close.
She screamed, covering her now burning optics that left everything white- black spots dancing in her blank world that grew until she was surrounded by a black emptiness, her sensitive audio somehow recovering from the blast, though they rang. She didn't care who heard her anymore, just as long as she was saved from the Pit of suffering she had wandered into. (Y/D) wailed, trying to make more noise than the storm. She wished she could roar, screech and holler but her beast mode was far too big to fit under the slowly melting bench- These structures were made to last against these storms, but this one had passed its warranty.
She pounded the ground in frustration, red optics grey from her lack of sight. She was terrified, she wanted to fight something, kill it- but the thing she hated was nothing she could fight against. No, this foe had already beaten her. The inanimate force called weather.
"Primus you promised!" She screamed, only for another *crack* to resonate through her helm, and her spark lurched from the pain- she had finally lost consciousness under the quickly melting bench.
Elsewhere, Tapper woke up from his accidental coma. He was teaching (Y/D) how to be a bar keep, a fancy one anyway. He wasn't giving her Visco, but regular energon was a well enough replacement when showing off fancy flipping tricks to make mixed drinks. Apparently, that's not what the Predacon youngling had chosen as her experimental "cocktail". Tapper sniffed the Visco in the flared glass, frowning as he wondered how one of Crank's failed brews took refuge in his energon storage- He was glad he taught (Y/D) not to drink what he did if he passed out-
"(Y/D)?" The mech realized she wasn't curled up beside him, as she usually was when he lost consciousness, jumping when the loud crashing of the weather outside flashed white, making him close his optics. "Oh no-"
Scrambling to shut the flapping door, he hissed as the acidic rain hit his servo, running upstairs to find her- she always hid under his berth if he had a surprise visitor, or the weather scared her.
"It's okay tiny terror," he told the Predacon youngling, "It's just a little storm, it'll be over before you know it!" He wrapped his servo in a gauze to sop up what remaining metal eating liquid there was, surprised when he didn't feel her small hug, or hear her pedes tapping their cute clicks from under the berth. Once his servo was dry, he looked beneath his berth.
"(Y/D)?" His spark dropped. She wasn't there. "(Y/D) this isn't funny-"
Tapper began to look frantically for the femme, looking in cupboards whether they were full or not, in totes, boxes, bins- never mind that she was too big for some of them, but the lack of this youngling's presence terrified the Liquor Specialist. He flew downstairs, looking beneath chairs, tables, both sides of the bar and repeated it twice. His search was all for naught as he realized she wasn't there.
"Predaking is going to leave me for scrap-" Tapper fell to his knees on the floor, beginning to cry. The world outside flashed white again, and the mech looked to the melted door he had closed earlier. "No-"
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