Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2020 3:07:33 GMT
To Dekota, the nighttime was his time. Ever since the entire ordeal, he kept to himself. He made sure to only go out at night if he could help it so he wasn't seen. It was simply better this way for him, it was calming and simply better for him this way. The war seemed to peak and then drop off suddenly, and yes, Earth and Cybertron were living in peace, and yes, things seemed good, but De didn't trust it. He didn't trust the luck that was peace among worlds and decided it was best to stay away. And in his choice to stay away, he was alone. But for De it was ok, better safe than sorry in his optics.
Currently, De found himself picking apart the remains of some old wrecks he'd dragged out into the abandoned lot just off the side of the road. He was cross legged, using all four arms and his goggles to pull the cars apart for bits inside of them. Sure, the metal was different, but it would work nonetheless. Unfortunely none would fit him, his model was too rare, but he was likely to find pieces for others. He missed working at the old clinic sometimes, but the Autobots there just were too aggressive with their beliefs, he couldn't take it. And not many wanted to visit some mech far off in the galaxy for medical treatment, but he was lucky that 'Cons and 'Bots alike sometimes still came to him for repairs.
Which made it easy to explain the wrecks strewn about him. What he couldn't quite explain was the fast approaching rumble of an engine. Oddly it sounded familiar...why? His servos stopped and his antenna perked up as his music turned off, the closer it got the more of an image came to mind...and to his optic as well, they were incoming way too fast...
"Ah, slaggit!!"
He was fast to scoot out of the way, just missing the wild driver by a mere inch but fell onto his back in the process, leaving him to watch the wild driver with deep confusion on his scarred faceplate.
The luck never lasted. And tonight, it seemed the crazed driver was an end to his luck.
Currently, De found himself picking apart the remains of some old wrecks he'd dragged out into the abandoned lot just off the side of the road. He was cross legged, using all four arms and his goggles to pull the cars apart for bits inside of them. Sure, the metal was different, but it would work nonetheless. Unfortunely none would fit him, his model was too rare, but he was likely to find pieces for others. He missed working at the old clinic sometimes, but the Autobots there just were too aggressive with their beliefs, he couldn't take it. And not many wanted to visit some mech far off in the galaxy for medical treatment, but he was lucky that 'Cons and 'Bots alike sometimes still came to him for repairs.
Which made it easy to explain the wrecks strewn about him. What he couldn't quite explain was the fast approaching rumble of an engine. Oddly it sounded familiar...why? His servos stopped and his antenna perked up as his music turned off, the closer it got the more of an image came to mind...and to his optic as well, they were incoming way too fast...
"Ah, slaggit!!"
He was fast to scoot out of the way, just missing the wild driver by a mere inch but fell onto his back in the process, leaving him to watch the wild driver with deep confusion on his scarred faceplate.
The luck never lasted. And tonight, it seemed the crazed driver was an end to his luck.