Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Reaching Out

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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Knock Out on Mon Jan 07, 2019 4:45 am

    "You ain't my owner, babe, so I technically don't gotta listen to a thing ya say. If I lie for ya, it's 'cause I wanna~!"

    Ugh, yeesh. Knock Out somehow forgot about that whole...owner thing. It always came back around to hit him upside the helm! Refusing to let a hint of discomfort cross his faceplates, the mech chuckled deeply before bringing a servo to his finial. "You don't have to listen to a word I say?! A shame, a true shame." A crimson optic peeked beneath his talons to send a wink towards the robot. "Good thing I trust you so much. Not many can say that." Likely due to their shared background, Knock Out also understood the value in a lie. One doesn't survive tyranny without learning how to tell a few white lies!

    "Oh, if looks could kill, I'd be the last mech standing on this world." He bragged with a huff, puffing his chassis out. Smile, he says. Lighten up, he says! Breathe, he says! Just to be a pill, Knock Out inhaled deeply and exhaled with a stretched out "Haaaa...!" Emotional constipation...! Smirking softly, he shot his friend a haughty look. "I suppose that would make you the emotional ex-lax?" The shamelessness intensified, Scaramouche rising to the challenge and bragging of his prowess! It was quite hard to keep up the smug air, this was a subject he had very little experience in. The entire day?! Could humans truly last that long?! The air around the mech seemed to heat up, Knock Out becoming flustered as his kibble fluttered. Damn you Scaramouche! He would not be beaten! "More like every Tuesday and Thursday." He retaliated with a snort, trying and failing to keep the smile off his lips. Like a stubborn aft, the Cybertronian refused to admit out loud whether he thought it'd be fun or not. His body spoke for him, more likely than not.

    A quick study... Such a simple compliment and yet Knock Out felt starved for it. He hadn't heard such things since the early years in the Academy! War was certainly not a situation where one was commended for being clever or doing a good job. Continuing to live was all the reward one gets. It made sense, but frag if it didn't annoy the medic. Still trying to keep his rock-tossing pose, the mech briefly tilted his helm to the side. What was that robot doing with the oak trees...? Wait, was that a pic-a-nic basket? A thick faux-brow quicked up in confusion. At the encouragement though, Knock Out smiled brightly. Twice in so short a time! Damn him, this robot was far too good to let go! A plaid blanket was unfurled, billowing against the grass ground like a little parachute before Scaramouche hopped onto it eagerly. He was sprawled onto his stomach, legs kicking behind him like a joyful teenage girl. To top it off was Anne-Marie who hopped onto the robot's back to roost! He smirked fondly at the sight and, bit by bit, relaxed out of the pose he'd been molded into. A hip jutting out, elbows kept close to his chassis, he found his servoes unfortunately still full of stones! His gaze fell to them, optics tracing out minute imperfections and ridges in the rock.

    "Of course they would adore me. I'm me!" Knock Out was invaluable. He deserved all of the care and adoration the world had to offer! Were he to find himself in another life-threatening situation, it'd be just for others to come to his rescue! But if all of that was true...why then, did the actions of those in the dragon hunt feel so significant? Ivory lips pursing thoughtfully, he ran his talon along the coarse surface of a stone. "...The majority of the people in the group, I barely even knew. They barely knew me and they risked their lives to help me." He was fantastic and worthy of so much love and care, and yet their care was a little strange to understand. They didn't get anything out of helping him, if anything, it almost made things worse? But it still...he still appreciated it. Because... "They cared about me more than the Decepticons ever did." He at last admitted aloud, both to himself and his friend, with a bitter note to his voice. "The Decepticons would have given up on me. I would have been a lost cause." Why not, when their 'supreme' leader was willing to throw their own home planet into the crapper to further his cause? Sacrificing one medic wouldn't have been anything to bat an optic at! He drew in a low hiss of air and closed his optics. Scaramouche had given him permission (as if Knock Out truly needed his permission!) to take a break, and so the mech focused on breathing calmly. A deep vent in, and a deep vent out. "A fragging good thing there's no need for factions anymore." Time would tell what that meant now that there were two active 'Cons buzzing about the Gamma. It was no business of Knock Out's just yet.
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Scaramouche on Fri Jan 11, 2019 6:20 pm

    "Hm~! I betcha trust me as far as you can throw me - which must be preeeet-ty far, considerin' the firepower you're packin', hon hon~!" Lying was classified as one of those 'quirks' Scaramouche picked up while hovering around (and, at times, used by) less-than-savory personalities. Good robots don't lie. Good robots don't kill people for money and then arrogantly brag about the misdeed during weekly jaunts to seedy underbelly dens with the rest of the scum and villainy.

    Good robots also don't make it very far past the assembly line if they're not willing to crack a few eggs to make an omelette. Or, in the android's particular case, a few skulls. The difference became muted after the first dozen or so, but the crunch was roughly the same.

    "Oh, if looks could kill, I'd be the last mech standing on this world."

    Ha! Fat chance on that one, baby. Tit-for-tat, and Scaramouche just loved a good banter. "If you were the last mech struttin' your stuff on this joint," the robot grinned, wagging his finger like an obnoxious tart, "you'd be one lonely S.O.B.!! Is that what'cha really want, baby~? Survey saaaaays...!" Cue the dramatic pause for those in the audience. "...I think not, hon hon hon~!" And who could blame Knock Out, huh? Not even Scaramouche wanted to be alone, stranded on a world with no one else to talk or bicker with. Like, what kind of existence was that...? As for that gem of an 'ex-lax' comment, well... This must've been a strange concept, the robot knows, but Scaramouche wasn't above a healthy dose of potty humor. In fact, the android seemed to cherish it like a bored schoolboy with a bunch of fussy girls on a lazy summer afternoon. "Why sure~!" he laughed, going insofar as to even make a grand, eloquent flourish of his arms like Knock Out were royalty. "I'll be your emotional suppository - so long as ya don't mind shovin' me up your full metal crapper first, oho ho ho~!" Still wanna go toe-to-pizza foot with the Assassin with the Sassin', Doc Knock? It's okay if you throw in the towel; Scaramouche's tongue was a formidable incumbent (and it didn't play fair).

    "More like every Tuesday and Thursday."

    Oh, but this. This right here was like a mating call to the A.I. whose incorrigibility knew no bounds. Scaramouche immediately hollered and whooped at the top of his vocalizer, throwing his spindly arms high into the air as he pranced around his bulkier friend with such unbridled gaiety that it was downright alarming. "HON HON HON~!!! You~? Thinkin' you can last two entire days with me~? Oh, don't make me laugh, baby!" What a little imp! He snickered and grimaced like the Devil himself, wholly delighted by Knock Out's hubris. "Ya don't even know the first thing about hanky-panky," the robot jeered. "What makes a sweet summer child like you think you can play with big boys like me? For someone designed without a pair, ya sure walk around town as if ya got the biggest cock on the block~!"

    Now it was Scaramouche's turn to puff out his chest and appear smug. The android directed a thumb at himself, a proud lil' half-cocked smirk on his metal face, and wasted no expense. "That illustrious title belongs to moi," he boasted, head swaggling. Talk about a Milt Kahl animation brought to life! It's a pity Knock Out hadn't the experience to bump this overgrown turkey down a peg. "Why, you'd be so tired, baby," Scaramouche continued, his grin immortal, "you'd ask to stay the night just so you can walk straighter by the next afternoon!"

    Which wasn't a guarantee, because organic nerves were rather delicate things. Ah! But they were chewing too much fat. Soon, the entire cow would be nothing but skin and bones, and the day itself will have ran away from them.

    From his shady rest beneath the ancient oak trees, dappled sunlight glinting off his metal frame, Scaramouche was content to watch and listen to his friend maneuver through the sea of trauma at his own, determined pace. Bit by bit... Stroke by stroke... Though it was largely unpleasant, Knock Out needed to overcome this - had to overcome this. The Cybertronian simply couldn't go on living if he wore a veil of denial! Truly, what greater disservice to the self was there? He propped up that great big boxy jaw of his with both palms and stared at the mech patiently. Give it a bit; Knock Out wasn't used to introspection and an audience that sympathized.

    "Of course they would adore me. I'm me!"

    A start. But the foundation could use some elbow grease. Once more, with feeling! This was far too pedestrian.

    "...The majority of the people in the group, I barely even knew. They barely knew me and they risked their lives to help me."

    Better, better... But we must go deeper. To other parts left unexplored! Dip into the reflective waters with more than just your mono-toe, hm? Other than yourself, nothing else will bite - and your bark was certainly meaner.

    "They cared about me more than the Decepticons ever did. The Decepticons would have given up on me. I would have been a lost cause. A fragging good thing there's no need for factions anymore."

    Bingo. Who said you couldn't retrain a narcissistic mind, eh?

    Scaramouche's lips curled into a genuine, adoring smile. "See? I knew ya could do it," he said softly. A metal hand patted the unoccupied spot beside him. "Now come over here and take a load off, babu! Lay down and admire the scenery with me. Listen to world pass us by... to the wind kiss the water... and pet my woefully blue otherworldly chicky-poo~!" Anne-Marie did look awfully plush, not to mention cute as all heck. Wouldn't it be nice to run your talons over something that wasn't a hard, unfeeling stone?
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Knock Out on Wed Jan 16, 2019 11:37 am

    "Oh, absolutely. Once I wind up my throwing arm, I've got quite the distance~!" Knock Out gave a flamboyant wiggle of his shoulders. "So...yeah! I trust you very much, lucky you! I'd say the same for you, but I think I'm far too heavy for you to toss." Sorry Scaramouche~! You were just far too scrawny, whereas he was a robotic Chad! And you know what Chads need? People who would admire them! Ergo, he didn't really want to be the last mech standing. "Well, I never said I wanted to be alone. It would merely be a consequence of my amazingly good looks! A real curse, quite Shakespearean. What I'd want is to be around you and Lunette!" So no, they were not allowed to be driven off or murdered by his handsome mug.

    Scaramouche's response to being compared to ex-lax was surprisingly magnanimous. Obviously, the robot was most comfortable when he was kissing ass! Flexible lips puckered nicely. Knock Out swaggered with a small bounce, smirking like the haughtiest mech in the Breach. "With these pizza feet, I'm great at squatting! So you'll slide right in, even if you might be a bit too tall. We'll be like those donkey costumes where one is the head and one is...the ass!" A rich chuckle bubbled out of his chassis. "A role you'd be very suited for." Tit for tat, blow for blow! This banter exchange was as familiar as a well-worn berth!

    Less familiar was the subject of the flesh! Or perhaps, metallic flesh? Whatever you call it, the mech's inexperience was apparently very obvious. Scaramouche's crowing and bragging was beginning to get a tad grating. That fool finally found something he had over Knock Out! The handsome mech pouted lightly. There was only so much he could pull out of his aft...! "Hmph! Alright, alright. You win this round, you obnoxious toaster!" As much as he hated to admit it, the jazzy robot wore smugness well. Even if he gave in to defeat, there was no way the former 'Con was going to roll over and show his belly completely. "I won't deny that I'd ask to stay the night, but it'd be so you can recharge in my arms, not because I need to recover! You don't survive a war without learning how to keep your energy up!" Take that!

    Ah, but such good sparked fun would need to melt under such unpleasant memories. Scaramouche proved to be an attentive listener at least! Not that any less was expected at this point. He gave Knock Out more reassurance, talking him up and expressing his pride in...what exactly? Just...him actually thinking about the situation instead of ignoring what was bothering? It was...strange. Uncomfortable. Primus, he didn't like confronting this sort of thing, but... He'd spent a month avoiding all of it. When invited to join the robot on the blanket, the mech carefully kneeled down towards the ground. Every single stone was set down into a tidy pile. He briefly brushed his car-door arms off before wandering over to the robot's cozy little setup. Being mindful of his pointy knees, the mech plopped his way down on the plaid fabric. His talons carefully reached for the feathery baby, giving the side of her bobbing head a careful scratch. As his metal body settled, a deep vent shifted out of him.

    "Oh Scaramouche... I have so many thoughts. So many things in my processor." His helm drooped, with a long face. Knock Out was tempted to drape across his friend, but instead propped himself up on one elbow. "I mean, that heart allowed me to be mind controlled by a tree. A tree! A strange, blue, coral-like tree!" Kibble shivered at the memory. "There's a portion of my memory missing. One moment we were on the surface, and then...we were in the caves. It took over. And then...when we killed the dragon..." Scritch, scritch, scritch...

    Knock Out's mouth turned down into a small sort of frown. Quite perturbed by the memories. Of course, that sadistic thing would leave him unknowing of what happened when they traveled, but allow him to keep the memories of Curiosity's fate! ...Oh right, he was supposed to be telling Scaramouche what happened, right? His metal brows furrowed. "Fluffy chose the wrong time to get all cuddly. It hollowed me out, shoved me out of the driver's seat, so to speak, and brought my buzzsaws down on his fuzzy skull. I turned him into mince meat." The mech cringed as he admitted the sordid affair. Who could tell how that robot would react! He was quite fond of the ditzy fluffer!
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Scaramouche on Sun Jan 20, 2019 3:48 pm

    "So...yeah! I trust you very much, lucky you! I'd say the same for you, but I think I'm far too heavy for you to toss."

    Hmph! You know what they say about assuming...

    Scaramouche closed an optic and wore a knowing smile. "Oh? So sure about that, are ya~?" he teased, confident. "Well-hell-hell~! Maybe one of these days we'll have to put that lil' theory of yours to the test, won't we?" It could even be accomplished now, but something told the android that Knock Out wouldn't be very... receptive to a spontaneous science experiment. Some other time, then! And when that great red peacock wasn't so obnoxious adorable strutting his stuff. "Hon~! Fortunately for you, I'm like a genie," Scaramouche chuckled, sticking out his synthetic tongue. "Your wish is my command, and never shall ya be alone~! ...Though ya only get the one, 'kay? I'm kinda stingy in my old age~! Comes with bein' trapped in a suffocatin' bottle." Hey, those were stuffy! Much like suitcases and utility closets...

    "With these pizza feet, I'm great at squatting! So you'll slide right in, even if you might be a bit too tall. We'll be like those donkey costumes where one is the head and one is...the ass!

    A role you'd be very suited for."

    ...Holy shit. The robot throws Knock Out a bone even for one second - one! - and then the Cybertronian turns around and slays poor Scaramouche. And he got called an 'obnoxious toaster', the britches on this brassy-balled bozo! "Hey, are you callin' me a kiss ass!?" the android snapped, shooting his most lethal glare Knock Out's way. Read: not very potent, but certainly animated. "Hmph!" Scaramouche sharply looked away and crossed his arms to pout. Gee, wonder who the robot was miming? "I'll have ya know that I don't kiss just any ol' ass..." he grumbled, sneaking a cursory glance through the corner of his LED display. If a certain someone looked veeeery closely, he'd see the beginnings of an impish grin. How irritating! "And of course I win this round, you big red BOOBY! Unless you can grow the necessary parts you lack, I'm the top-diggity-dawg of interfacin' and there ain't nothin' you can do about it~!" And what was a potshot without a - PHHBBBBT! - victory razz? "Hon hon hon~! Recharge in your arms... As IF, baby~!" The robot directed a thumb toward his back and appeared quite the smug charlatan. "With this new battery of mine, I could rock your world aaaaaall week~! And even then, I gots me a solar mod for the 'bot on the go!" Scaramouche practically purred this next part, his voice smooth as silk. "Methinks you're just inadequate when it comes to the carrrrrnal delights of organic lovin', oho~! But don't feel bad, baby. Teacher's here for ya~!"

    Tit-for-tat, blow for blow~! Now roll over and expose them tums, 'cause you, dear Knock Out, were in the presence of a mastah of disastah. And also biting more than he could chew! But, y'know...

    "Thaaaat's it, babu. Sit down with ol' 'Mouche and enjoy the moment." Cyan optics kept a diligent eye on the Cybertronian as he rested before the smaller robot, the latter offering another encouraging smile. Even Anne-Marie, for all her proud bluster, wasn't above being greedy for attention. The cucco fluffed up beneath Knock Out's talons and softly cooed, nestling deeper against Scaramouche's plated spine. What a warm basket of chicken nuggets! And cute, too. "I know, babe, I know; the mind's a troublin' thing. But hey! You're doin' great, a real class act~!"

    Guh, mind control and drawing blanks. Talk about the screamin' meemies! Scaramouche thanked his lucky stars no one forced an override during his more... problematic days. He nodded every so often while listening to his friend quietly, legs swaying back and forth with a lazy cadence. Only when a lull presented itself did Scaramouche speak. "That sounds like ooooone ugly-buggly. ...The tree, I mean!" It probably wasn't a tree (sounded more like a parasitic organism), but that was fairly irrelevant. Knock Out was still shaken up - and rightfully so - by the event, and Scaramouche wasn't going to let his friend weather this alone. "That must've been awful for ya, Adonis. To lose control like that and then suddenly 'wake up' discombobulated. But, if it means anythin' to ya, you're still here and the tree's toast. It can't hurt ya anymore. You're safe and sound, and still very much loved. Ain't that right, Anne-Marie~?"

    "Bok!"

    The android curtly laughed and leaned against his metal palm, his free hand playing with the blades of grass running beneath his fingertips. "...Hm~! Anne-Marie gives ya her vote of confidence. Anyway, what happened when you guys iced the - ?"

    "Fluffy chose the wrong time to get all cuddly. It hollowed me out, shoved me out of the driver's seat, so to speak, and brought my buzzsaws down on his fuzzy skull. I turned him into mince meat."

    Oh.

    Oh no. That was...

    At first, there was silence. Great silence as Scaramouche just stared at his friend, optics wide and his expression one of flabbergasted shock. Fluffy? Minced meat? The corner of his lips trembled. Was he going to cry? Was he going to disown the Cybertronian right then and there? "...M-Mm... mmmph-h-hh...! BWAHAHAHAHAAAAAA~!" No, he was going to laugh. And it was the ugliest snort of laughter Knock Out had yet heard out of Scaramouche's big metal trap.

    It rolled off his tongue like thunder, birds taking off with a start and nearby fauna looking their way curiously, as the robot could hardly 'breathe' in-between his howls and pixelated tears. "You - ! You - ! Y-You KILLED him...! H-He nuzzled his l-last nuzzle and you...! Y-You chopped him up like CAT FOOD, YOU GLORIOUS SON OF A BITCH~!" FUCK, Knock Out was gonna think he was being a jackass, but this was comedy gold! Who wouldn't laugh at the mental image of a great big furball cuddling up to a guy who had buzzsaws for hands and then proceeded to get hacked into fuzzy meat chunks!? No offense to the Nargacuga, but Curiosity kinda had it coming! "O-Oh, that's t-too much...! My s-sides are hurt-t-tin' and in fuckin' ORBIT!" he wheezed. Wait, one more!

    Prrrr, prrr, prrr - whiiiiiiir...! BZZZTCHNKCHNKCHNK!! - prrrr-r-rr-rrrrr...!

    Yes, those sound effects were Scaramouche's 'tastful' rendition of what happened, including the last purr of betrayal and the shockingly accurate wet sound of metal teeth ripping into flesh.  

    Yes, he was still laughing and falling to figurative pieces.

    "Nyeheheheeheeuuaaargh...~! Oh Christ, I'm sorry...!" He wiped the pixelated tears off his LED display and looked to Knock Out pleadingly, distress visible. "P-Please don't take this the wrong way, b-babe, but that was just too funny! N-Not your feelings, of course~! Oh no, n-never your feelings," he stammered with a crooked smile, "but the way ya described it, I just... I just couldn't believe it, hon hon~! That damn walkin' rug is too curious for his own good sometimes, I swear!" Minced meat... Scaramouche bit his lower lip and rattled where he laid, another burst of laughter threatening to blast its way out of his throat. "He heeee~! Nuzzled his last nuzzle..."
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Knock Out on Wed Jan 30, 2019 11:44 am

    "Oh? So sure about that, are ya~? Well-hell-hell~! Maybe one of these days we'll have to put that lil' theory of yours to the test, won't we?"

    Mmm... Confidence crumbling as we speak! That knowing smile was far too cool to dismiss. While Knock Out still doubted that those toothpick arms could ever bear his weight, the robot did possess other abilities at his disposal! Most notable among them, being his bizarre telepathy powered by music. His optics narrowed but the grin on his face didn't lessen for a second. "Oh, please do! I love being proven right!" He absolutely knew he wasn't right, but the mech wasn't going to spoil their fun by admitting it! "Only the one wish?" Like a true primadonna, he sighed forlornly. "Well...if that's all you can give me, I suppose it will do! Good thing I didn't waste my one wish~!" He winked to show that he wasn't being serious, a sincere smile gracing those ivory lips.

    "Hey, are you callin' me a kiss ass!?"

    His smile grew. "Hey, if the fashionably heeled boot fits...!" Broad shoulders shrugged and Knock Out proved resilient against such a withering glare! In fact, the robot's souring mood only egged the mech on! "Oh, don't pout, Scaramouche!" He cooed with a cloying tone. "It's one of the many reasons why I like you so much! My aft feels almost tailor made for your lips~!" Unfortunately, he could not remain top banana in this exchange for long! Not when there was at least one subject that Scaramouche was a master in while he was a mere novice! His bravado melted with a huff. "Well, I don't have a reason to grow any parts!" For what was a key without a doorknob? The Cybertronian continued to scoff and squirm throughout his friend's bragging, eventually admitting defeat with a derisive snort. "You win this one, oh teacher." Consider his tums exposed, though not without one last smirk. "So...does this mean I have detention? Hmmm?" Stuff that in your flute and toot it, big boy!

    Ah, but even in this odd victory did Scaramouche prove to be a stalwart friend. More words of encouragement. A watchful and friendly gaze. Attentive. Even Anne-Marie was proving herself to be a good listener! If Cybertronians could blush, he sure as scrap would! In lieu of that, he ducked his helm to hide a softer smile and continued to rub his talon against the cucco's downy feathers. What a lovely blue color. Knock Out silently decided that Anne-Marie was his favorite, as she nestled even more against Scaramouche. Everything about this situation was hard, but this support that he'd sorely been missing seemed to be helping! "Thank you. Not bad for my first post-disaster spark to spark, eh?" Not bad at all, really! Why didn't he do this more often when it was so easy?

    "That must've been awful for ya, Adonis. To lose control like that and then suddenly 'wake up' discombobulated. But, if it means anythin' to ya, you're still here and the tree's toast. It can't hurt ya anymore. You're safe and sound, and still very much loved. Ain't that right, Anne-Marie~?"

    "..." Yes...it was toast, wasn't it? That awful tree had been blown to smithereens and the catalyst for that explosion was...! Knock Out's face went blank, the expression on his face a neutral one as his optics shifted away from his friend. A servo folded over the center of his chassis, clasping over it as if afraid everything may come spilling out again. "Yes. It can't hurt me anymore. I..." The words felt as if they were very far away, even though they came out of his own mouth. Nym had hoisted his ruined body up. It had been tossed across the acidic lake and he landed with a heavy thud at the base of the tree. The roots... The roots came to life and began to smother his body. They furled, and curled around him, around his neck and dimming spark! Before it could kill him, something crashed into his spark chamber with a terrible force! And the rest...was silence until he woke up one week later.

    "M-my apologies." Shaking his helm to clear away the memory, he turned back to his friend with a smooth smile on his face. Perhaps a bit too smooth, as it was slapped on rather than genuine. "I got a little spacey for a moment. You're absolutely right, Scaramouche! That tree is gone. Gone for good and while it crumbled and died, I've been brought back! And I'm here, and I'm with you, and the sweet Anne-Marie. And I am happy. Which is more than can be said for that loathsome plant." Let Daemeon and all seeds of his destruction burn in the Pit where they belonged.

    Ah, but here was the moment of truth! The beans have been spilled! The cat, bolting out of its bag! Pandora's horrors, springing forth from the box! Scaramouche had at last been informed of the gruesome murder of Curiosity. And at the hands of none other than the amazingly handsome and spectacular Adonis. The robot's silence spoke volumes. How torn he must be! Two friends he oh so loved, and one had killed the other! What horror. What dread. Knock Out's optics widened as the corner of his friend's mouth trembled. Alright, it was bad, but he didn't think it'd be bad enough to make Scaramouche cry...! As dread made its way into the very depths of his spark, the mech was absolutely not prepared for what was to come.

    "You - ! You - ! Y-You KILLED him...! H-He nuzzled his l-last nuzzle and you...! Y-You chopped him up like CAT FOOD, YOU GLORIOUS SON OF A BITCH~!"

    Laughter. Full on, belly jiggling laughter! The robot was cackling! Snorting! Howling! Knock Out's stare became a bewildered one as his jaw dropped. After a few moments of shock, his friend's laughter, at last, proved too infectious. "Pffft...!" Whether it was the situation, the inherent trauma of what had happened, or just how obnoxious Scaramouche was... The mech couldn't help but give in to it. He wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders and leaned in until they were temple to temple. Rich chuckles bounced out of him and when the robot began to apologize, he waved his talon at him. "Hahahaha! N-no, no, you're right! W-who engages in post-battle snuggles anyway?! That dopey thing! He got so c-cozy on my foot! It stared down at him a-and Fluffy looked up at me! A-and went...! 'R-rrr?'!" Poignant last words, yes? He gripped his friend's shoulder for support, leaning against him as he laughed full-force. If he possessed any tear glands, he'd be crying at this point!

    "I didn't tell you the best part!" Knock Out's voice was strained by laughter, coming out in an almost drunken wheeze. He wiggled his pedes and snickered without a hint of dignity. "He...! He! Oh, Primus!" A hiss of laughter escaped him before he at last forced it out. "He let out a single, little, crystal tear as he died!" If only the two of them knew that such a thing had been given away as a prize! In due time.
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Scaramouche on Tue Feb 05, 2019 1:15 pm

    A challenge? On his stomping grounds? The corners of Scaramouche's optics narrowed. As tempting as it was to shovel heaps of dirt into Knock Out's boastful trap, the android remained the bigger... er, machine. He merely laid there, if not a tad begrudgingly, and wore a sweet, disarming smile. "And I love provin' ya wrong~!" Scaramouche answered in his usual obnoxious sing-song. "But, like, later," the robot clarified, holding up a hand, "because today's goal is for you to prove yourself wrong, hon hon~!" And there was surely no other vexing foe than the demons within, meaning Knock Out had quite the uphill battle in front of him. All that self-denial. All that hubris. Heavy was the crown, hm?

    "Hey, if the fashionably heeled boot fits...!"

    Apparently not heavy enough, hmph!

    "Yeah, yeah, yeah~!" Scaramouche pursed his lips, feigning indignation, and huffily glanced away with an exaggerated scowl. 'Don't pout', he says... "Listen, babu, ya don't get far in life by makin' enemies and stickin' to lofty ideals. If kissin' ass means I get to live another day, then I'm gonna kiss every freakin' ass I see!" Despite saying the contrary just moments ago. Which was the truth, which was the lie? It was always a game with that rosy-cheeked buffoon! And the android wished he was joking, but it was either stomp or be stomped and these heels yearned to be flaunted. Knock Out did, of course, have one very fine, very shiny derriere. Seeing the mech's confident facade melt into a pathetic lump was like smelling blood in the water. "And your knees are tailor-made for the ground before my feet~!" Scaramouche quipped, making insolent 'kissy' faces. Given the Cybertronian physiology and extremely bizarre life cycle, there was obviously no reason for Knock Out - or anyone of his kind, for that matter - to possess genitalia. Then again, there was also no logical reason for Scaramouche's compatibility with organics, either.

    Therein lied the rub. "Psssh~! Like we need a reason..." The robot - yes - rolled his optics and glanced lazily at his gussied up friend, wearing a half-cocked smirk. "And what better reason is there than me, huh...~?" he purred, dangling a bait most tantalizing. Naturally, this was just Scaramouche's aggravating way of playing with his food. Yes, food. If he could wrap these ass-kissing lips around Knock Out's, quote on quote, 'doorknob', he would've done so in a heartbeat.

    Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who was asked), the android had no inclination to swing like a rickety patio backdoor. His purring increased ten-fold. "Mm~! Oh, I just dig it when ya act submissive..." Teacher was pleased - no detention for you!

    Yet.

    "Thank you. Not bad for my first post-disaster spark to spark, eh?"

    Alas, there were far more important subjects to pursue, and Scaramouche's mood shifted gears with fluid-like efficiency. "You're welcome, babe," he answered kindly, nodding for Knock Out's benefit. "You're doin' great - I mean that 110%. It's not easy and I know it's frightenin', but you're stronger for it." And that's really all that mattered - for the mech to pick himself up, by his figurative bootstraps if he must, and continue forward with renewed vim and vigor. What other alternative could there be...?

    Knock Out was a strong soul - stronger than even some of his superiors - but all masks had their breaking point. Though the Cybertronian was loathe to admit his genuine feelings, he didn't have to; Scaramouche could see them written plainly on the mech's porcelain face.

    The glossy sheen of distant eyes... The faint drone of hollow words... The striking presence of a spirit gone numb...

    This was not a mask someone like Knock Out should wear - nay, anyone from that sorry ordeal - and, for a brief moment, the robot felt... saddened. How could the others have been so selfish, so cruel as to let innocent bystanders assume their neglected mantle of responsibility? Sympathy gave way to anger, a gnawing flicker of red behind darkened glass, but the android willed it away to the vestiges of his lower processes. This was not the time for condemnation, outrage, or vitriol. This was the time for healing, and that's what Knock Out needed most. A friend, a safe place to vent, and - most importantly - fwump! ...a hug.

    "Oh my Adonis, ya needn't apologize," the android spoke fondly, his metal frame warm and emitting a soft, soothing thrum. Silvery hands roamed over the Cybertronian's torso and banished his anxiety away with every gentle caress. "You're happy," he reiterated with a tender smile, "and that's the best thing ya can be against the likes of Daemeon and his stupid ilk. By speakin' about this and showin' that you ain't gonna succumb to anguish, you've already broken his spell. You're amazin', baby - never forget that, no matter how hard others try to bring ya down, 'kay?" Scaramouche leaned over and pressed a loving - smooch~♥! - against the mech's temple, winking like a tart. "Now, what's this about ya murderin' poor Fluffy~?" he shamelessly grinned. Hey! In Scaramouche's defense, Curiosity got better. If the Nargacuga had died permanently, this would be an entirely different story...

    "Pffft...! Hahahaha! N-no, no, you're right! W-who engages in post-battle snuggles anyway?! That dopey thing! He got so c-cozy on my foot! It stared down at him a-and Fluffy looked up at me! A-and went...! 'R-rrr?'! I didn't tell you the best part! He...! He! Oh, Primus!

    He let out a single, little, crystal tear as he died!"

    Aw, poor baby! All Fluffmeister wanted was a victory nuzzle - just the one! - and instead he got slice-and-diced into hamburger meat! And he left behind a little tear, too! Scaramouche clutched at his chest and half-ugly wailed, half-ugly chortled. "My sweet, precious BABY~!" he hon-hon-sobbed. Oh, the android wanted to grin. He wanted to grin badly, but he also wanted to lament and go through the whole gamut of emotions appropriate for the ill-fated news of his friends' deaths. But godDAMN if the way Knock Out described it wasn't freakin' hilarious. "Prr, prr, prrrrRRRRR~!" Scaramouche laughed, hooting with impish glee, and wiped away a couple of pixelated tears. "Oh, that's too funny..." he snickered quietly. Anne-Marie hadn't the foggiest idea of what was going on, but the big-breasted cucco was content to roost on her caretaker's shoulder, ruffling her azure feathers until she imitated a loaf of bread. Something about a cat, maybe...?

    Several moments passed the 'bots by, the air still reeling from their stifled 'tee-hees' and 'hahas', as they enjoyed the lakeside respite for themselves. Tired grins remained etched on their metal faces. "Ugh, god... I haven't laughed like that in a while," Scaramouche happily sighed, fighting back a yawn. Nuzzled his last nuzzle... "Hee~!" The android shook his head with a smile and laid back against the blanket, arms folded behind his head as his optics roamed the sun-dappled leaves above, delighted by every shimmer and rattle the autumn breeze made as it danced around their bodies. Anne-Marie, meanwhile, was none too pleased to yet again be bereft of a suitable perch, the stubborn old bird bobbing her way to Knock Out instead.

    "I hope he's okay..." he muttered thoughtfully.
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Knock Out on Sat Feb 16, 2019 12:18 pm

    Ooh, Scaramouche's optics were becoming slivers. No matter how sweet that smile was, there was no mistaking the pinched nature of those diodes! He winked impishly at the robot. "Guess I can wait to be proven wrong some other day. For now...proving myself wrong?" Knock Out cupped his own chin and hummed in thought. "Quite the concept! But I suppose I can be proud to be proven wrong by such a handsome, brilliant Cybertronian." Oh, he just couldn't help the shameless smirk on his facial plating. That just appealed to his narcissism in just the right way!

    "Listen, babu, ya don't get far in life by makin' enemies and stickin' to lofty ideals. If kissin' ass means I get to live another day, then I'm gonna kiss every freakin' ass I see!"

    "Here, here!" The mech mimed the gesture of raising a glass in solidarity. He even tipped it towards the robot in a friendly manner. "You don't think I got so far in the Decepticons by just being so devilishly magnificent and intelligent, do you?" Ah, if only. One of the many reasons why he quite liked being on PB, the locals here took to his charms easily! "No... I too had to perfect my lips for kissing aft. Not often, mind you, but...enough. Certainly enough to make sure I never got axed. A silver glossa certainly helps with the ass kissing, no?" A shame that the two of them had been constricted by such an oppressive world for so long. He, the Decepticons and their increasingly stupid war, Scaramouche, a dystopia created by Aku. "Tsk! Now I know you're joking!" The whole of Knock Out's palm pressed against the robot's puckered face, jokingly turning him away. "With spiky knees like these? I'm hardly suited for kneeling so long! Talk about an uncomfortable position..." Why do you wound him so, mean ole Scaramouche?

    'What better reason than Scaramouche'... Hah! Knock Out chuckled and gave his companion a scrutinizing squint. "Quite the ball bearings you have! To think that you are oh, so important." In truth, such unyielding confidence was definitely attractive. The crimson mech was sorely tempted to nibble such bait. He settled for a deep chuckle and a wide smirk. "The better reason would, of course, be me!" Ah, but no amount of playing hard to get would erase the fact that Knock Out had already given this flamboyant robot exactly what he wanted. He gave an amused snort and a fond grin. "Well, you'd better treasure it. I don't get submissive for just anyone." So long as no one told the jazzbot about how Knock Out arrived to the Breach in cuffs and had to be freed by Zurg on the condition that he kneel and sing his praises! Not his finest moment.

    "You're doin' great - I mean that 110%. It's not easy and I know it's frightenin', but you're stronger for it."

    Immediately, he resolved to commit such words to his processor for the future. Scaramouche was absolutely right! Just by being here and talking with the robot, Knock Out was already in a far better place than he had been when he first came back from the Pool. And yet... It really curdled his pride to admit that there was still more progress to be had. Talking about this was frightening. Thinking about it was difficult. Certain triggers made him feel so powerless! And that was never a feeling he enjoyed...well, feeling! But this was a safe place. Scaramouche was a safe person, and so when he was offered a hug, the mech leaned into it eagerly. His talons hooked around what he could grab of his friend. A deep, shuddering vent stuttered through his chassis. Every word out of those lips was like a soothing balm on his aches. Knock Out pulled him as close as he could get, squeezing gently. "You are absolutely right. No one, especially not some slinking demon nor his spawn, are going to keep me down for long! I'm going to continue surviving, and I'm going to enjoy every moment I live! I'm going to be happy, and that wretched filth can writhe with the knowledge that he couldn't defeat me! I am amazing!" The kiss managed to take him off-guard during the triumphant speech, leaving the mech little to do but to shoot the jester a flustered grin. He returned the gesture in kind by pecking the robot's black display seemingly between his optics.

    "My sweet, precious BABY~!"

    Now that was the response he had expected! Sure, it was technically only half a wail, with the other half being a sobbing laugh, but... Same thing! The situation was objectively hilarious and horrible. Such was life sometimes! The mech's laughter continued to bubble out, before it eventually began to fizzle too. His shoulders bounced, and he gulped deep vents of air. "Oh...! You sound just like him!" Such a fluffy-headed simpleton! Knock Out likewise pretended to wipe away tears, long talons sweeping beneath the underside of his optics.

    "Aah...definitely a first in a long time for me as well." Knock Out settled back against the blanket, leaning on an elbow. While Scaramouche decided to gaze up at the branches, he busied himself by holding his door arm out for Anne-Marie to roost upon. "You have my certified guarantee as a doctor, that laughter is indeed the best kind of medicine." At the muttered pondering, the mech frowned to himself lightly. His talons reached for Anne-Marie's downy feathers again, combing through them in a soothing manner. "If I came back, I'm sure he has as well." He answered at first, sounding almost flippant. But soon he sighed, rubbing circles into the blue cucco. "I must admit...that at least part of the reason for my little isolation was...to avoid bumping into ol' Fluffy. Cute as he is, he really isn't the smartest and... From his perspective? I just freaked out and killed him for no reason!" Not exactly great for keeping a friendship going. "I...also hope he is okay. I suppose. He's not so bad when he isn't being a pill." Knock Out admitted, begrudgingly.
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Scaramouche on Sat Mar 02, 2019 5:22 am

    Oh brother... and here Knock Out said Scaramouche was the kiss-ass. Just listen to this preening pompous peacock! If the Cybertronian could duplicate himself for the sole purpose of owning an interactive mirror, he would! Then again, that might be extremely high maintenance... on both Knock Outs.

    "I'm not surprised at all, my dear Adonis~!" Time to butter this lobster and show 'em how it's done. Scaramouche gestured and grimaced with the usual whimsy, proving himself more animated than a children's Saturday morning cartoon. "All's fair in love and war, and havin' a silver tongue's just one of the many weapons necessary for survival. Why make more enemies than it's worth, hm~?" Of course, the android would rather ice his foes - and preferably before they knew what hit them - but he knew how the game was played. Play the fool, bide your time, and then strike. Let the heroes and villains vie for the top glory spot and suffer along the way! And speaking of misery... was it Scaramouche's imagination or did the sun get blotted out by SPF fabulous?

    Knock Out was lucky - very lucky - that his mischievous friend refrained from giving that metal palm a sensual lick. "It's not uncomfortable when someone's hips are flushed against yours~!" he answered in obnoxious sing-song. The intimacy... The lustful haze... The passion... Yes sir, Knock Out didn't know what he was missing! The android couldn't help but throw in a teasing chuckle, his optics delighted slivers once again. "What, never heard of a cushion, my pillow princess?" Yeah, no. Knock Out was a hedonist through-and-through, but he was also such a puss! Like, what's the freakin' deal with being on your knees if they were made of metal...? And a damn strong metal, too! "Seriously, babe~!" the robot brazenly snickered. "Everyone knows that bullshit space metal's the strongest material around. It's right up there with the comic books and video games. I think you just don't wanna be on your knees for lil' ole me." Cue the dejected sniffle, because that wounded Scaramouche right in his power supply. "A-And here I thought we had somethin' special..." Oh, the betrayal! Oh, the selfishness!

    "Quite the ball bearings you have! To think that you are oh, so important."

    "All the better for you to suckle~!" And fondle, but it's not like Scaramouche had a pair of his own. That'd be weird! ...And honestly kinda gross. Like, how would he fit into his really tight pants? How would he avoid ball-slapping himself during wild escapades of daring-do? They would be quite LARGE, you know! Naturally as a sign of his infinite bravado (read: shit-talking) and overflowing masculinity.  

    ...Pffft, masculinity~!

    He pretended to find his fingers suddenly very interesting and mumbled along with Knock Out's whining. "Mhm, mhm..." Cue the general nonchalance! "Oh, you're a catch, all right," he remarked with a bored sigh, throwing a piddly glance at the Cybertronian every so often; as meager scraps to that attention-starved hound and nothing more. "But you're faaaaar too much of a greenhorn to really play with the big boys. If one's to soar with the eagles, then they can't gobble-dee-gob with the turkeys, hon hon~! And you, my delectable lil' dish, are definitely not an eagle." And if Knock Out thought to label himself a peacock, he should immediately reconsider since the birds weren't elegant fliers or boasted impressive amounts of stamina. They looked pretty and that's it. They also made a lot of noise, making them excellent guard animals, funnily enough... Anyway, put all that in your pipe and smoke it with your virgin lips, you inexperienced booby!

    "You are absolutely right. No one, especially not some slinking demon nor his spawn, are going to keep me down for long! I'm going to continue surviving, and I'm going to enjoy every moment I live! I'm going to be happy, and that wretched filth can writhe with the knowledge that he couldn't defeat me! I am amazing!"

    Ooh, such a glowing sense of self-worth! Scaramouche nearly undressed and presented himself like a suckling pig right then and there (just kidding, but his friend's seemingly limitless supply of confidence was a huge turn-on). AND HE EVEN GOT A SMOOCH ON HIS DISPLAY, AW.

    "Nyehehehmm...~! Stop, stop~!" the robot pleaded, hiding the lower half of his face behind the picnic blanket like a bashful maiden. He sneaked a coy glance for good measure (it's tradition!) and let loose a titillated giggle, "Y-You're, like, totally gonna make me spring a leak, babe." Ever see a cephalopod ink itself? Yeah, it was kinda like that, except a thousand times more embarrassing. This blanket would also be ruined! As for ol' Fluffy, well...

    Scaramouche found himself quietly nodding along, his optics roaming the mottled canopies high overhead. Anne-Marie was beside herself with claiming the Cybertronian's arm for herself. What a pleasantly fat old bird she was! She looked like the perfect chicken nugget. "I'm sure he doesn't hold it against ya," the android spoke softly. No, Curiosity wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer, but the monster's primal intellect couldn't be discounted further. "He'll understand if ya tell him; probably even forgive ya, knowin' the fuzzy rug. Just express remorse and ask if bygones can be bygones. What's the point of nursin' a grudge in a world where death's impermanent and we're all in this great big sandbox together?" Meaning: it was folly to linger on the past, especially in this case, when the future lay swollen with endless possibilities. The android shrugged and stuck a blade of grass between his ceramic teeth, "And who knows? He might even be thinkin' the same thing. You'll never know until ya confront the truth. Ain't that right, Anne-Marie~?"

    "Bok!"
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Knock Out on Tue Mar 05, 2019 4:19 pm

    Interacting with a duplicate of himself was a rather sketchy thing. Odds were about even that Knock Out might get bored, tired, or perhaps even jealous of his own duplicate. On the other hand, perhaps they'd be thick as thieves and Portal Breach would be dazzled by both handsome mechs! Not even he could say for sure!

    "All's fair in love and war, and havin' a silver tongue's just one of the many weapons necessary for survival. Why make more enemies than it's worth, hm~?"

    Funny, how the robot could make it sound so glamorous. So necessary, so admirable. Knock Out tried to find it in him to agree but found his pride far too wounded. "Mm, yes. Well, all the better that we are here. Where this is no war at all! I will never regret my silver glossa because you're right; why make more enemies when you can keep on their good sides? That was Starscream's mistake, after all! But...it's one of those weapons I wish I didn't have to deploy. Besides, my buzzsaws are far more effective than any amount of aft-kissing." Resentment simmered at the back of Knock Out's processor, like a sauce that had been left to stew overnight. The more he thought about the Decepticon cause, and all of the injustices he had to endure, the more the mech found himself hating Megatron. Hating ever choosing a side in the war! He could pretend to be loyal around Kaon and Vos but otherwise... Well, let's just hope his acting skills were up to snuff. Otherwise, the mech was perhaps too exhausted to be truly angry. A bit burnt out, more like! Toying around with Scaramouche was far juicier!

    "My, my!" He pressed his palm further against Scaramouche's face, giving it a little wriggle as if the robot were a pampered pooch. Two of his talons easily found themselves bordering that beak of a nose. "Hips flushed together, quite the image you can paint with that imagination of yours!" A derisive little sniff escaped the crimson medic, and he allowed his servo to slide off of the jazzy robot's face. Not without one last caress along the bottom of his jaw, of course! "Pillow Prince, thank you. I would demand only the best treatment! Or do you think I don't deserve the best?" Oh pish posh. Quite racist, to assume that just because he was a shapeshifting alien robotic being that he wouldn't need some extra cushioning beneath his knees! "I think you just want to work me like a workhorse and see me exhausted and spent! Like some common service drone!" Two could play at this game, as Knock Out sniffled pitifully and rubbed at his optics with a knuckle. A-bloo bloo and so forth!

    "All the better for you to suckle~!"

    Whoo! Even for an alien race that didn't possess such anatomy, Scaramouche's retort was quite the blasphemous thing! It jolted Knock Out out of his wounded gambit. "PFFT!" In what was likely a very handsome display, the mech sputtered and guffawed with a wide grin. "You wish! I've seen that inseam and I know there are no ball bearings to suckle!" Ah, but the robot was beginning to get too big for his britches. As if a dial had been switched, he suddenly became dismissive. Interested in his own fishstick fingies rather than in Knock Out's beautiful self! Oh, but how it drew the mech in more and more as he shuffled closer to his finicky friend. Careful not to disrupt the hen on his door, the mech pouted as he leaned in close. Him, a mere greenhorn?! An amateur, not worthy of flying among the eagles?! He settled on a course of action, and that course was whining. "It's not my fault I can't be an eagle!" His bulky shoulders brushed against Scaramouche's. "I'm a special little peacock pillow prince and I need to be pampered! Can you really deny me...?" Those marvelous optics batted at the robot, coy as ever. He knew that despite the front Scaramouche put up, he couldn't truly ignore such a fabulous mech.

    "Nyehehehmm...~! Stop, stop~! Y-You're, like, totally gonna make me spring a leak, babe."

    See? The proof was in the pudding! Or in this case, the proof was in the bashful way Scaramouche turned away and hid his face. So easy! With a victorious smirk, Knock Out saw fit to grant the robot some mercy. "Perhaps next time, then. When we're not on such a marvelous little blanket." As much as his optics twinkled with future mischief, the mech was finding himself more and more drained. Perhaps it was the tiring labor of 'talking about his feelings'. Maybe it was the roller coaster of emotions Knock Out was currently stuck on. Or, it could simply be because he hadn't had a decent recharge lately! Who knew, eh? For all they knew, maybe it was Maybelline!

    Either way, the crimson Cybertronian found himself shifting and turning to face his lounging friend. The door arm with sweet Anne-Marie settled itself in the gap between the mechs, while his other arm functioned as a makeshift pillow. "Perhaps you are right." Knock Out admitted, his optics scanning the robot up and down. Scaramouche could be trusted. He had yet to steer him wrong! And laying here next to his friend felt...safe. Scooting closer, Knock Out pressed his face against Scaramouche's shoulder and felt his optics fluttering. "I can confront the truth... tell 'im what happened. And if he's still antsy...? I can throw him a steak. And let bygones... be bygones..." The last thing he heard was the loud 'bawk' of Anne Marie, and a soft chuckle was the last sound he made before slipping into a peaceful stasis. Stretched out on a blanket, beneath a peaceful sky, and accompanied by a great friend and the best chicken. What more could a mech ask for?
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    Re: Reaching Out

    Post by Scaramouche on Mon Mar 11, 2019 1:07 pm

    Dazzled? More like butt-blasted! Scaramouche knew the type. "Eh~! War's a dumb concept, anyway," he replied, shrugging with an innocent smile. "Ain't no real purpose for it, y'know? Just mindless violence and slaughter... So, yeah, I'm like you~! Portal Breach is much groovier than our war-torn worlds - and the best part is, we don't gotta dance for somebody's amusement!" And believe you him, Knock Out; Scaramouche was super tired of being the organ grinder's monkey. See these petite, delicate ankles? They were as fragile as a pillar of glass! They'd also look fantastic over your big, brawny shoulders...

    "...Urp!"

    Knock Out's palm, meet Scaramouche's animated face.
    Scaramouche's animated face, meet Knock Out's palm!

    It was love at first sight.

    The android grimaced and squirmed like a belligerent kitten in desperate need of a nap. "Euuurgh, noooo!" he whined, pulling himself away. Not that it did any good, seeing how Knock Out was a hefty chunk of space lead. "Imagination my shiny metal ass!" he squawked in protest. After a bit of oomph and a lil' mercy on the Cybertronian's behalf, Scaramouche's face at last tasted freedom. "Hmph!" The robot hastily smoothed out his button-up shirt and wiped his aluminum mug clean of any and all blemishes. Scratches were just awful, and Knock Out had fingers like needle-point spider legs!! "I ain't got none of that..." Scaramouche grumbled, stowing away his silk hanky. It's true; what good was an imagination to a robot? It was almost like programmed autism! The workhorse imagery was kinda exhilarating, though... And service drone? Mmph~! This had the makings of a rowdy tussle in the sheets, Scaramouche grinning from 'ear-to-ear'.

    "Ooh~! Exhausted and spent." He sniggered and rubbed his metal mitts together fiendishly, looking his friend up and down with increasing mischief. "Why, I bet I'd get ya singin' in no time," the android purred, his voice as smooth as silk. "Even a persnickety pillow prince such as you would travel the ends of the earth to hop on my godly pogo stick~!" It certainly had Lunette jumping for joy.

    "PFFT! You wish! I've seen that inseam and I know there are no ball bearings to suckle!"

    Gasp, j'accuse!

    Like the honking fool he was, Scaramouche lifted his slender leggy up at a perfect 90° angle - bwooooooooop! - and studied the inseam of his pants with wide, rounded optics. "Really? Is it that obvious?" the robot asked, sincere in his naivety. Well, can't say he was packing an actual bulge, so... A bloo, bloo, bloo! The ball-less robot had no balls. More news at eleven. He quietly sighed and lowered his gam, jostled by Knock Out's cinder block of a shoulder. "Hey, I'm loungin' here, ya special lil' peacock pillow prince~!" Aw... was it Scaramouche's imaginary imagination or was someone getting tired?

    "Hmph~! See, ya say that, but you ain't ever seen me spring a leak like Ol' Faithful," Scaramouche chuckled. Hint, hint: it was embarrassing. It was even more distressing when the old robot's aftermarket 'pleasure' systems were offline and he was aroused. Talk about painful! It was like being parched in a sea of refreshments but denied a drop to drink.

    "Perhaps you are right. I can confront the truth... tell 'im what happened. And if he's still antsy...? I can throw him a steak. And let bygones... be bygones...

    Ooh, was that the sweet sound of progress Scaramouche heard? This calls for Knock Out's favorite midday craving: a good, old-fashioned pampering. "Aw, my Adonis..." Before the sleepy Cybertronian knew it, he soon had a warm, thrumming barnacle attach itself to his illuminated back. Don't tell anybody, but spooning was one of Scaramouche's many Achille's heels. Bonus points if this interactive lump of aluminum was the big spoon! "Mm, I am so, so proud of you..." the android murmured happily, nuzzling into Knock Out's neck as mindfully as he could. Gah, so pointy! ...And were these lil' white doodads 'ears'? Eh~! Scaramouche gave one a tender kiss and figured that was a question for tomorrow him. Right now, he was feeling like a mighty nap himself! "Fluffy's a good boy..." Fingertips lovingly stroked that immaculate finish, caressing every peak and valley. "He'll be startled and confused, but he won't hold it against ya forever... Just give him a steak and kiss his fuzzy butt, hehe... I'm sure your pride can take a lil' hit - just this once."

    Mmmmmmrrrrrrrgh...! Scaramouche stretched like a cat ready for a fat siesta, his fingers and toes curling, and cuddled perfectly against his friend. "Mm~! Let's take a lil' snoozy-poo..." he mumbled with a lazy smile. "I got shit to do and I don't wanna do it, so~!" Truly, there was no better reason. He smooched the back of Knock Out's polished dome one last time and effortlessly drifted off to sleep mode, his LED display growing dark and his arms around the Cybertronian's frame more locked up than Fort Knox. You're not going anywhere, buck-o! At least not for another couple of hours.

    So relax... take a load off... enjoy the beauty of the world all around you, and remember one very important thing: everything was going to be A-OK. No matter what happens from here on out, life will be fine; and you were in confident, loving hands.

    Anne-Marie ruffled her feathers and sunk against her plumage slowly, joining the metal-men into a nice, restful nap. Hey, if you can't beat 'em...

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    Re: Reaching Out

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      Current date/time is Tue Mar 26, 2019 10:54 am