#so incredibly obsessed with how abnormal her files are

[cerastes]

It’s time for the sequel to the Abyssal Hunters post.

While it was an interesting exercise in trying to piece things together with limited information for me and hopefully an interesting read for you, free access to Files, Voice Lines, and the Grani event have painted a much clearer picture. I say “much clearer”, evidently enough, relatively, as the truth is still as murky as the Deep. They aren’t just going to show their entire hand until the relevant Event or Story Chapter comes out, of course, but what cards aren’t being held close to the vest show us a very intriguing story.

So as to not make an unreasonably long post, I’ll be dividing these by character.

In the initial post, we discussed Specter and Skadi. There’s many updates on that front, but today, I want to start with everyone’s favorite unknown material brick wall: Cuora.

“The personnel involved recalled that they found Cuora napping under the sun on the deck of Rhodes Island above the bridge. At the time, Rhodes Island had just finished a supply drop to a small Columbian town before sailing off. After waking up Cuora, interrogation revealed she had absolutely no idea how she got onboard.”

One day, Rhodes Island had just finished a delivery somewhere in Columbia when, out of the great, deep blue, Cuora was simply spotted on RI’s upper deck, getting some Zs in. She has no idea how she got there, she didn’t know her name, she didn’t know who she was, she didn’t know who these people were, no, Cuora knew only one thing: Baseball rocks.

“Operator Cuora is so innocent and naive, not even Oripathy could dim her spirits. And no one has the heart to reprimand her when she breaks a window for the hundredth time playing baseball. Operator Cuora clearly has an unusual passion for baseball. Her small round ball and black bat are practically her best buddies.”

She is so immensely cheerful and optimistic, even in the face of Oripathy, that RI personnel and fellow Operators can’t help but love the little bugger. Her Oripathy is low level (5%, 0.2u/L), doesn’t show any sort outer physical manifestations, and all she had on her when she was found were her baseball bat and her turtle shell-like backpack, both made from an incredibly advanced, indestructible material that not even the greatest minds in RI managed to reverse engineer.

Wait, what? Doesn’t this sound... Familiar somehow? Amnesia, no outer manifestation, a near-manic obsession with something, something completely incomprehensible and unexplainable by modern Terra science... Not to mention, while she isn’t an aquatic or an unknown species (she’s a Petram, turtle people, thus, amphibious), she shows no animal features, with her backpack being equipment, not a body part. She looks like a regular human. Hmm.

Indeed, her circumstances and Oripathy are similar to Specter’s: It went directly to her nervous system, gave her amnesia, and now she’s displaying mild manic tendencies. Narratively speaking, Cuora and Specter are meant to show us what Oripathy does to Aegirians, also known as Abyssals. Cuora’s low level Oripathy still causes amnesia, but otherwise, it causes minor mental damage, if at all, as Cuora might just simply be that passionate for baseball by default, but the manic-like obsession to the sport, using “manic” here clinically to mean “a state of abnormally elevated arousal, affect, and energy level”, might suggest that this is perhaps her favorite hobby that turned into an obsession due to the minor nervous system damage. She is far more adjusted than Specter and can interact with others normally, apparently being popular with some Operators.

Despite being cheerful, innocent, and supposedly inexperienced in combat, she picked up battle tactics with incredible ease.

“It is obvious that she is very proficient and highly experienced with the game of baseball. And yet, observation showed that Cuora possesses very little actual combat experience. With her familiarity with baseball, she has been able to grasp mission plans, objectives and strategies far easier than one would expect from an inexperienced Operator.”

According to Cuora, it’s because “playing baseball strengthens the body and builds teamwork”, but what I think is going on here is that Cuora used to be an Abyssal Hunter, and thus, does in fact have combat experience. The perceived “very little actual combat experience” mentioned in her profile is due to her, as an Abyssal Hunter, being used to fighting giant monsters, not similarly sized humanoid enemies. She picks up combat tactics and strategies with ease due to her being a seasoned warrior, thus, even if she’s got amnesia, as an ex-Abyssal Hunter, her mind is receptive to learning new forms of combat. She likely was clumsy for all of two drills before her muscle memory let go of the “we’re fighting giant monsters” mentality and embraced the new “we’re fighting enemies that are humanoid in shape and similar to us in height” modus operandi. After all, it is easy to adjust to something new when one has a strong base with something similar.

Much like Blue Poison, Cuora’s race is actually known and is an amphibian. It’s possible that amphibians are a sort of link-slash-spy community for the Abyssals to know what’s going on on the surface world. Cuora, of course, has no idea of any of this due to the amnesia, but perhaps she was ordered to spy on Rhodes Island or Columbia, developed Oripathy and thus amnesia, and then ended up either moving by residual instinct alone and found herself on RI or the town that RI was making a delivery to and then accidentally ended up getting on RI. My money is on the former: She wasn’t found on some non-descript random place in Rhodes Island, she was found on top of the bridge, not exactly a place just about anyone can reach or that one just goes to. This is purely theoretical, but I think her orders were to spy on RI specifically, but after developing Oripathy, the amnesia made her forget this, yet her instinct alone subconsciously carried her there as if there was some special meaning to it, perceived to her merely as “that place looks interesting and GREAT for a nap!”, which would be fine and dandy, except it’s the rooftop of a pharmaceutical-slash-PMC headquarters, not a bench in a park. After this, it was, subconsciously, mission complete, so next up was just her unbridled love for baseball, likely magnified due to the nervous system damage, as well as her new friends at RI that took her in.

“Cuora was accepted into Rhodes Island as an Infected under existing protocols. Her strange talent was discovered at that time.”

Cuora was brought in as a patient (as RI does) and that’s where they discovered, hey, what the hell, this girl is fit as hell, she’s got an indestructible baseball bat and an indestructible shell made from materials science can’t explain, and she’s actually pretty good at tactical combat... Let’s make her an Operator! (as RI does).

Regarding her bat and backpack, they are meant to show us just how advanced the technological level of the Abyssals is, at least when it regards metallurgy. Every known Abyssal has some sort of unexplainable power: Skadi has her outright insane strength that lets her crush any foe with ease, Specter has her outstanding durability that lets her shrug off attacks that would kill anyone else, Blue Poison has her ability to secrete immensely potent poison (others, such as Manticore, can also secrete poison, but Blue Poison’s is stated to be immensely, particularly deadly, represented in-game by Manticore’s venom simply slowing down the target, while Blue Poison’s actually deals damage per second), and Deepcolor has the ability to bring her drawings to life (to a certain degree; there’s rules and limits but she hasn’t explained them) and has command of her “Helpers”, tentacle creatures that are suggested to be organic yet mechanical at the same time. Cuora is an exception in that she’s not endowed with a special ability (that we know of) like the other Abyssals we know, instead showcasing to us the technological prowess of the Abyssals. This might mean Cuora was a lower ranked Hunter, and instead only possessed her strong gear and her combat experience. This could be congruent to her rarity compared to the other Abyssals: Cuora is 4*, just like Deepcolor, who, despite her abilities and power, is primarily a non-combatant, while Specter and Blue Poison are 5* and explicitly stated in their Files to be very powerful, and Skadi is a 6* that’s outright a living legend among mercenaries, bandits, and bounty hunters. Cuora might have been a lower ranked, perhaps even footsoldier-tier Abyssal Hunter, but it’s clear she makes up for not having a special ability by sheer ability and experience (and indeed, she’s far more useful than her rarity indicates, in a game where her rarity does not denote uselessness at all). 

So, all in all, Cuora is a very interesting window into the world of the Abyssals: Her Oripathy symptoms, placed side by side with Specter’s, confirms that Oripathy indeed behaves differently and maybe consistently (2 cases is too small a sample to make any bigger a statement) in Abyssals in comparison to surface world dwellers (Terrans?), her gear is a good look at how advanced Abyssal technology is, at least when it comes to making weaponry and armor, and seems to suggest that amphibian species are in cahoots with the Abyssals as intermediaries or vanguards.

But, most importantly? Cuora is a lovely brick wall, so cherish her, play ball with her, and when the times comes to face the past, be sure to stand by her side.

I’m planning on covering Deepcolor in the next post, oh boy, there’s things to say about her, so unless I change plans, look forward to that!

#arknights #long post #cuora

[black-strike-otp]

part 96

I like this chapter. This is a nice chapter. Actually looked forward to this chapter.

~Days Later~

Bots were swarming for a chance to help build the intergalactic transmitter. A surprisingly small amount arrived simply for the sole benefit of energon they’d collected. The majority arrived stating how they longed to be in contact with old friends. Another servoful was eager to be part of such a monumental and meaningful project rather than waste their lives and time away waiting for change. With the war having went on for lifetimes on Cybertron and a significant fraction off, most were interested in the change the transmitter may bring.

Unfortunately, it left Blackout preoccupied with trying to help construct the base for the communicator. He had very little issues with his size and strength carrying around equipment and holding up the skeletal pieces of metal. In fact, Novastrike was pretty damn sure he was enjoying himself. Having a task seemed to fuel him. After spending roughly half an Earth year with no work and no purpose, wondering the galaxies only to return home and have to work like a junkyard dog just to survive, he finally had routine and something physical to do. A routine. A task.

The only down side to all this change was the loneliness. With Blackout both desiring to and being asked to be on the job site not too far from the rogue outpost, it left Novastrike alone a lot. With her size, she wasn’t of much help and would only get in the way. Even Scorponok had found a job in burrowing holes into the planet to help keep the posts good and stable to the concrete bases.

So Nova spent time in the one place she was both out of the way and could be found useful. Though the medic didn’t seem keen with the extra presence, he stayed just about as far as he could away from where she hovered not far from Venus and Barricade.

She watched the infected mech with wonder and awe. Aside from the gentleness Blackout always expressed upon her, she’d never seen from an outsiders view the love a bot could have for another. He didn’t leave her side for a nanoklik, no matter wake or rest. Venus had since woken, but was told to remain in the medical office until she’d completely recovered from her injuries.

Jiggling one of her pedes from where she saw, the small femme watched as ‘Cade lovingly caressed his recharging femme’s servo. Where light glossed over her frame reflected a well polished streak over black and magenta that he took such great obsessive care to help clean when she had been out. The silver and purple metal on the claws of his servos caressed over Venus’ with delicate feather-light brushes as she slept.

Every bit of predatory insanity that had been written in his faceplate and surging at the surface days ago was gone, but the blame still warred in his dark mauve optics. No matter how hard Novastrike tried to find the words to speak to him, she couldn’t bare to open her mouth. Usually she didn’t have a problem spitting out whatever was in her processor if she thought it could help. Barricade was different however; he twisted words meant to soothe into daggers and inflicted them upon himself until he was bleeding from wounds you couldn’t see and physically mend. He was bound and determined to be the villain of his own story; the catastrophic hurricane, the cause of torment, the weight that dragged Venus into the fire and flames and would inflict only a plague of misery and hurt upon her.

Breaking into the solace with a clearing of her vocalizer, Novastrike gestured slightly to Venus as ‘Cade turned towards her and quietly coaxed, “Venus is looking better every day. Do you mind if I come over and remove her path to see if she’s in need of a replacement?”

From the other side of the room, the doctor looked up. His gaze was disapproving and somewhat distrust of her, like he found it hard to believe she could manage the task. Rather than involve himself though, he lowered his helm back into whatever he was working on in his files.

In a stereotypical robotic response, ‘Cade numbly nodded his helm as he answered in monotone, “Sure thing, Novastrike.”

“You can call me Nova,” the white armored femme stated, offering a half-sparked smile to try lightening the mood.

It didn’t to inflict any difference on the bad cop. He shuttered his optics at her very slowly and with disinterest. Gradually, he shifted his optics back down to look upon Venus as he continued stroking her servo softly.

Bounding off the counter, the small femme made her way over to the examination table and jumped up on the edge. She made sure not to glance up at the worried mech and make awkward optic contact whilst approaching Venus’ form.

With her tiny servos, she had no problem finding and disconnecting the clips helping to keep the temporary plate of metal in place. She pulled at the soft, spongy material this particular medic used instead of welding and peeled it off to toss to the side. As Novastrike began to lift up the compress with a huff, Venus began to stir.

Mumbling some nonsense gibberish, the taller femme unshuttered her optics and blinked in the dim overhead light for a moment. Her fuchsia optics blinked as she reflexively twitched her digits, curling them around Barricade’s servo that had been holding hers up.

“How are you feeling, beautiful?” ‘Cade requested quietly as he raised her servo to press a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

“Fine, Barricade, just as I keep telling you,” Venus explained with a broad and loving smile.

Using her elbow to prop herself up, she pressed a kiss against the underside of his chin. The corner of his mouth pulled up a little as he rubbed his thumb against the back of her servo lightly, watching her with brightly shining optics.

Nova would have to give Scorponok more credit later on. Being the one to just stand around while two bots were staring at each other, optics locked like they could see all their hopes and dreams and happiness in the others gaze, really had a way with putting the aww in awkward. It was sugary sweet and gave her the fuzzy feelings, but maybe if she wasn’t specifically inspecting one of the bot’s injuries in the middle of it she could appreciate the sappy quality a bit more.

But right now she just felt like a nuisance.

“Ahem, sorry to barge in,” Nova spoke up nervously as Barricade looked to her with vague irritation. “I know Barricade asked you this, but how are you doing, Venus? Feeling any abnormal pains anywhere? Energon making you feel sick at all? Did you recharge well?”

Unlike her mech, Venus seemed unperturbed by her interference. She smiled in a way that probably made cherubs so jealous they turned their noses up and gazes away, as if looking upon her too long would befall you into a state of worship. There was something lethal in that beauty however; a threat waiting to pounce at opportune moments as she sucked bots into her charm.

Nova felt incredibly lucky to be on her side, and not her opponent. She rather enjoyed Venus; her kindness, her wit, the snide joking remarks and high sense of self-confidence made her a truly fun individual. The thought of being sucked into all that flare only to meet a demise was very disheartening.

“I feel fine,” she insisted. “I just wish I could get out of here. Yeah I probably had the longest amount of recharge in years, but that’s all I’m doing.”

“Well I’m sorry about that,” Novastrike offered sympathetically as she turned her optics upon the injury, brushing her digits in a ghostly, hardly touching contact upon it. “I’m sure it was worth it though, right?”

Barricade gave an offensive curse to himself. Glowering at her mech, Venus squeezed his servo firmly and nudged him slightly with her elbow.

“It certainly was.”

Novastrike grinned to herself a bit. Even if she couldn’t drill the thought into Barricade’s helm that the incident was none of his fault, Venus would have a better chance of knocking it into him.

“Good news: everything appears to have healed up nicely. The sealant has done its job and there’s no leaks since it melded your cracked lines. Your frame seems to have accepted the new replacement gears nicely. I don’t think there’ll be any lasting effects from the damage. Of course, the medic should really give you the a-okay and get your reformed and refortified armor back in place before you’re allowed to leave.”

The smile on the bigger femme’s faceplate faltered slightly as she whispered, “Wait, you’re not a medic? I thought for sure you were a field medic, or a trainee, or something.”

Timidly shrugging, Novastrike offered a cheesy grin and replied, “I’ve had some experience working with two highly skilled medics. I’m not a professional; I have no doctrine to prove anything and went through no schooling, but I got some servos-on-training.”

“Wow,” Venus pondered with amazement. “That’s pretty remarkable Nova. You know, I know we haven’t known each other too long and it’s not like my opinion matters at all, but I’m glad Blackout found you. I like you. He’s always been a bit of a brooding, anti-social, silent type but he’s never been anything but pleasant around me. I knew he had to have something in him willing to care more than just beyond being polite to ‘Cade,  Scorponok and I.”

“Oh. T-Thank you, Venus,” Novastrike stuttered in reply. “I gotta say, I was a bit intimidated meeting the both of you. Blackout never really revealed much of his past to me; even his work with the Decepticons he kept vague. I’m not sure how much of that was him trying to protect me from the things he’d done and how much was him just wanting to move forward in life. But I’m really glad I’ve gotten to meet you both. I mean, you look like you walked off the runway and strolled out of some sort of fairy tale.”

Grumbling, Barricade removed his servo that had been upon Venus’ and wound it around her back. He rested his palm against her backside, stretching out his digits along her frame as he tossed a look at Nova.

“Yo, smalls, I’m the one with the flirty pick-up lines. You’re laying it on pretty thick. Watch it; she’s mine,” ‘Cade cautioned.

Looking sideways at her mech, Venus rolled her optics. She turned her gaze onto Nova as she nervously twiddled her digits.

“Don’t mind him. You’d think he’d know bots can be inclined to compliment one another and not mean anything by it. I’m flattered by your praise, but you’re a cute little thing yourself. Don’t feel intimidated or discouraged. I’m sure you’ve gotten your fair share of admirers, and you don’t have to worry about the one whose opinion probably matters the most to you. ‘Cade probably would have tried killing Blackout years ago if he’d actually thought of him as competition.”

“He’s got a size kink, babe. You’re not tiny enough. He only really hung out with Scorponok before me anyway which proves my point-ouch!”

Pinching a nerve in Barricade’s wrist, the goddess of a femme shot him a warning look.

The trio turned their optics to the shuffling pedes as the medic made his way over towards them. He looked nervously at ‘Cade, who turned his helm away quickly. From the glance Novastrike got from him before his faceplate was hidden, the poor mech’s demons were rearing their ugly helms again; stricken with a look of self-loathing.

Cutting right to the point, the doctor held up the pieces of Venus’ armor that had been removed to be fixed. He waved them in the air slowly before her.

“You’re suitable to be discharged,” he stated, looking down at the wound and up to her optics. “I’m going to put these on you, and I want you to take your friend and get the Pit out of my office. Immediately.”

Smiling sweetly up at the mech, Venus purred in response, “Yes of course, sir. I’m so sorry if our ruckus disrupted your work at all.”

Suddenly, the medic’s face looked like he’d been struck by cupid’s arrow. His pupils dilated a few degrees and he looked down from her faceplate swiftly and to her injury as light filtered brightly out of his gaze. His digits fumbled for a moment shakily; too nervous with his fumbling digits to touch her. After a few tries, and Novastrike squinting at him as she considered offering to do it, the medic finally managed to snap the pieces of armor into place.

“There you go!” he practically burst out as he stiffly turned around. “Now get out, and don’t come back unless you have a real fragging emergency!”

~

“Wow, I’ve never been thrown out of a medic’s office so quickly,” Venus laughed as they walked out of the rogue outpost. “I guess I should have spoke to him a lot sooner!”

“He wanted us out because he was terrified of me,” ‘Cade sulked quietly, looking off to the side.

Walking backwards in front of the duo so that she could speak to them directly, Novastrike flicked her servo out as she threw in her own two credits, “Venus is up and walking around again, free of the med-bay and constant prodding and poking. We should all be very happy and enjoying this moment!”

Glancing over to the mech following her stride, Venus nudged her hip against Barricade’s as they walked. He glanced at her somewhat shyly and wrapped his arm around her to plant a kiss against her lips.

Nova made sure to discreetly look away, embarrassed.

By the time she turned her optics back, Venus had playfully shoved ‘Cade as he pulled away. A small smile played against his mouth as he snickered quietly.

Not watching where she was going, Novastrike tripped up on the uneven surface of Cybertron and fell right on her aft.

“Ha!” ‘Cade snorted.

Holding back from laughing, Venus managed a shaky, “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes,” the small femme squeaked with humiliation. She quickly pushed off on her pedes and righted herself to brush at her rump. It hurt a bit, but not nearly as much as her ego that felt like it’d been popped and collapsed like a balloon.

“You should watch where you’re going,” the taller femme scolded gently. “You could get hurt, walking without looking where you’re going.”

Nova pressed her audio receptors against her helm with mortification. She could make out the warble in her dejected spark, and the sound of other pedes approaching from the left as bots came their way.

“R-Right, yes-”

A rush of air whizzed by Novastrike’s frame and a small explosion of metal and dirt flung up from the ground. The suddenness stupefied her for five nanokliks as they all turned to look at what had just hit the ground.

A single bullet, mostly collapsed in on itself from hitting the ground, lay on the ground.

Flicking her audio receptors up, the little femme swiveled them in the direction she’d heard the muffled pedes walking around. A distinct sound of a shell casing popping out with a mechanical click of a pin whispered into her sensitive ears.

“Move!” Nova yelled, jumping out of the way just as another shot went hurtling by her, mere nanokliks from having punctured into her processor.

Assessing the trajectory of their assailant, Barricade moved around to Venus’ left side as he helped push her along to the nearest area of cover. Another bullet whistled right by; this time missing ‘Cade by a few inches and ricocheting uselessly off some nearby scrap metal and flying off elsewhere.

Charging in the opposite direction of the other twosome, Novastrike panted quietly as she jumped over some nearby twisted scrapmetal. Her form shifted; panels moving and rearranging so that when she hit the ground on the other side, she landed smoothly on four sturdy legs instead of two. The feline’s sharp optics and audios moved in the direction she’d heard the last shot come off from as she crouched low behind the mass, thinking she may be out of the line of sight.

Another bullet zipped by, luckily hitting some of the scrap. It embedded itself in the ground just centimeters from the cyber-cat’s toes.

Lifting her helm quickly, Nova picked out the brief gleam of a rifle, and the figure of a bot lying down with it in the shadows. Another ping of a shell casing had her twitching her audios in his direction.

Dashing forth, the white cat streaked across the ground like a bolt of lightning. Her hunches sprung fluidly as she dodged and weaved around the twisted formations and remnants of buildings in her way towards the bot. With fangs bared, a snarl rippled through her form as she closed in.

A shadow to her right moved as she closed in.

The crack of a cannon went off and Novastrike went rolling across the dusty surface of the planet. She slid her claws into the surface with a screech of metal, coming to a halt.

Snarling, the feline lashed her tail furiously around as the sheath around her barb tail slid open to reveal the sharply honed prongs. The blast hadn’t hit her directly, merely gave splash damage and debris flung up on her side as it harmlessly hit the ground from her last-minute adjustment.

The bot didn’t have a faceplate she recognized as they leered at her with jagged, uneven derma.

They raised their cannon and fired once more, but she was already moving once again. Hurtling over a waste of metal, the femme raced around and towards the shadows as another shot went off from the sniper. The bot didn’t have time to recover and ready another shot when she jumped into the darkness; swallowed by the shadows as she came down on the bot.

Novastrike’s claws snagged upon their faceplate as she let out a roar of fury. The bot let out a femme’s cry of pain as they released the sniper rifle to try swatting her off. Elongated gashes dripping with energon whelped as Nova sprung off the femme’s face to leave a pleasant calling card behind.

Pedes moved behind her. She tensed, whipping her helm to the mech that she hadn’t realized had approached so close already. Raising her tail, Novastrike hissed, ready to strike the bot when an explosive crack of a blaster went off.

The mech cursed, stumbling back as he was struck.

Loosening her posture, Novastrike turned her helm just in time to see Barricade as he jumped. He crashed directly into the mech. As the pair fell together, ‘Cade physically rolled with the assailant and threw him with tremendous strength. It was disturbingly horrifying to hear the bot strike the knotted up mass of rebar sticking out with such force that it punctured into areas of his frame as he let out a terrified, pained scream.

Turning towards the femme whom she’d just clawed, Novastrike saw the dawning look of fear on the bot. She pushed herself away just in time as ‘Cade jumped and came crashing down on her sniper rifle, his pedes snapping the weapon in half.

Dumbfounded and more than a bit terrified herself, the white cyber-cat turned her helm to the incoming sound of pedes. Huffing softly from the jog, Venus sprinted right past Novastrike, much to her confusion. She craned her helm around just in time to see the goddess strike a blow to the mech’s extended arm’s crevice in his forearm. The joint cracked as his arm snapped downward, firing his cannon into the ground.

Bringing up her leg in a wide arc, she struck him hard in the side. As he stumbled and tried to regain his balance, Venus slid a dagger out from her forearm into her servo. With a flick of her wrist, she plunged the blade with a fluid stroke beneath a section of the bot’s armor of his chassis and up.

His optics flashed with alarm as he sucked in deeply. She extracted the blade and rammed it in again as he wheezed, staggering. There was very little energon that dripped out from beneath his armor as he fell into Venus, but she stepped aside as he collapsed.

Nova didn’t bother to watch as he convulsed and slowly would begin to turn gray. Instead, she slid her paws gingerly on the ground, scared to witness what Barricade had done to the femme he’d been victimizing.

It seemed Venus had the same thought.

Running around Novastrike, the taller femme hurried over to the two frames upon the ground. She reached out tentatively to touch ‘Cade on the shoulder as he leaned over his opponent.

“Babe?” she whispered nervously.

Lifting his helm up, Barricade’s optics were that eerie slightly pinkish-purple. The seams on his faceplate were slightly parted, but not fully opened. He held his ventilation system still so not to breath in the smell of energon. A bit stiffly, he pushed himself to his feet.

Novastrike grimaced and looked away from the femme. Her armor was practically crushed out of sheer, brutal strength. There was hardly a faceplate to be made out.

Reaching out, Venus gingerly touched the sides of his face. A kitten’s purr almost moved through the cop as the four segmented areas of metal on his faceplate flexed slightly and retracted back to making his faceplate smooth once more.

“Are you okay?” Venus demanded swiftly.

“Fine,” ‘Cade rasped, grinning. “Didn’t even take a nibble.”

“Primus, you had me scared there for a moment,” she hissed, stroking the side of his face.

Chuckling with some unease, he leaned in to press his forehead lightly against hers. An adoring smile formed on his faceplate as he looked her in the optics tenderly.

Slowly pulling away, Barricade looked over Venus’ shoulder to stare at Novastrike. She went rigid, looking around like she wasn’t sure where to go to be out of his sites. It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong, but being caught staring was certainly a bit awkward.

“You’re not too bad,” he admitted gruffly as Venus caressed his face.

Blinking her optics slowly, Novastrike offered a nervous smile. “Thank you, for saving me from that mech, Barricade.”

‘Cade gave a single nod of his helm, flashing his derma in a grin. “Sure thing, Nova. By the way, you can call me ‘Cade. I won’t bite, I promise.”

Light sparkled in Novastrike’s optics as she let out a faint gasp. A feline’s grin appeared on her cyber-cat alt-mode’s face as she wriggled in place excitedly.

What a way to get the approval of a new friend.

#quid pro quo au #OTP AU #OTP Lit #OTP Friends #Khool-Khatz #Figured I'd tag u sorry if that's a problem!

[artificialqueens]

Check You Out - Chapter 3 - May

A/N: So, I recently made the incredibly intelligent mistake of deleting the file with this chapter off my phone, and emptying the recently deleted folder accidentally, so this is a lot later than I expected it to be. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, feedback is always appreciated 💝 (also I set up a side blog if you want to check it out @artificial-may)

The early morning sunlight filtered through the window, lighting up the dust mites mottling the air. Bianca turned her phone on and off, counting down the minutes until she could open the large roller doors at the front of the store and let the day’s customers in.

She glanced out the window, and noticed that the car park was abnormally empty. Usually, the car park on a Saturday morning would be a third full, today there was a red ute and and a bike propped up against a tree. Groaning, she leaned her head on the wall. It would be a slow day, and that kind of day was the worst. Slow days meant customers thinking they could have long conversations with her just because there was no one else in the queue, which made it hard to bite back the cutting remarks that often rolled off her tongue. It was a little mantra Bianca had. The customer is never right.

Her phone buzzed on the till, signalling it was time for the store to open. Unlocking the heavy bolt she heaved the roller up and returned to her till, and tapped her acrylic nails on the bench. The store was empty, which wasn’t abnormal, but Bianca had gotten used to one little thing. Adore.

Since their last meeting, Bianca had indeed checked out Adore’s Instagram, as well as every other social media account she could find. She’d almost fallen into the habit of expecting the green haired girl in the early morning. Rolling her eyes at herself, she ceased her tapping as an elderly man entered the store.

A few minutes later, the sliding doors opened with a faint puff of air, and Adore rushed through them, obviously in a hurry. Only stopping to give Bianca a quick hello, she disappeared into the aisles, only to reappear holding her drink.

“Sorry I’m in a rush,” she said, too loudly, “I have work soon but I overslept and was late here-” “Hold up,” responded Bianca, “you have a job? Isn’t your job getting drunk and being the pretty little indie musician you are?” “Well, yes,” said Adore, “but that doesn’t pay for petrol, so I work as a receptionist down the road. I go from here to work, and it just so happens that today I was due to start five minutes ago. So sorry to be like this but see ya Bianca.” And then she was gone, the coins for the drink left in a little pile on the counter.

Picking them up and putting them into the till, Bianca looked once again out the front window, at Adore’s retreating figure, and the very slow trickle of people coming in through the doors. She realised she was grumpy, and she was grumpy because she hadn’t gotten to talk to Adore that morning.

Smiling to herself as an idea popped into her head, she left her till, and went and grabbed a bottle of Berocca. In no particular hurry, she returned, and tucked the drink just under her counter.

That gives you plenty of time to talk to Adore tomorrow, thought Bianca, her stomach fluttering a little in anticipation. •••• “Do you even see the point of having a break today?” asked Courtney stormed into the staffroom. Willam shrunk a little into her chair. Although they always had breaks at the same time, Courtney never really spoke to Willam, except to maybe toss a weak insult. Despite the friendliness Courtney had showed just a few weeks earlier it had all dissipated over New Years.

“Well,” quipped Willam, “the demand for fresh fruit and vegetables stops for no man.” Courtney turned, wide eyed. “But it has!” she exclaimed violently. “The store’s practically empty.”

Willam had noticed that. There had been fewer price checks, fewer people at the deli counter, fewer jobs to do. It had been great, in Willam’s opinion, but for someone obsessed with their work like Courtney, Willam could understand how the busy days could be curses.

“Well if you want something to do you can always clean the fridge or something.” Courtney’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t know the last time this thing was cleaned,” she said gesturing to the fridge. “I don’t use it, ever since people started eating my food out of it.” Willam swallowed, knowing that she had been one of the people who had eaten Courtney’s salads and smoothies when they had first started appearing in the communal fridge.

“I mean,” said Courtney, the fridge door now open, “I don’t know if this gnocchi has pesto on it, or if the green stuff is mould,” she continued, brandishing a Tupperware container with some sketchy looking pasta inside. Willam grimaced.

Shutting the fridge with a bang, Courtney slumped back down into another plastic chair. “This sucks,” she said. A long pause ensued. Willam recrossed her ankles, and waited.

The awkward pause stretched on.

“So…” she said, trying to relieve the tension that was thick enough to be cut with a knife. “Why did you go vegan?” Courtney’s delicate eyebrow raised. “That’s heavy for small talk.” “It is?” asked Willam, mentally kicking herself. “Look, there’s a lot of factors, I guess I just didn’t like the connotations meat and all that had. I don’t like the idea of something being harmed just for me.” Willam nodded, and Courtney checked her watch, then sighed. “I’m supposed to receive a call soon,” she said, apologetically, “see you later.”

She left, Willam watching her go pensively, wondering at the change that had occurred between them. •••• “Is there any point me being here right now?” asked Sharon. “What do you mean?” asked Phi Phi. In the past few weeks Phi Phi had found that Sharon had mellowed a bit, turning from hatred and contempt to everything in the store, including Phi Phi, to just general dislike of the job. “I mean, no one’s here, no one’s going to be here and if they are, you and Violet can deal with them easily,” said Sharon. “I don’t need to be here.” “You’re getting paid,” Phi Phi reminded her. “Yeah for doing nothing. I could be doing something I actually want to be doing.” Phi Phi leaned forward on her till. “What do you want to do?” “Like right now-” “Nah not now. What would you prefer doing with your life. What’s your endgame?”

“I don’t really know for sure, but I want to sing and I want to travel and I want to spend my time before I have to be an adult actually enjoying myself, not stuck in a box, waiting for customers that aren’t going to come.” Phi Phi nodded. “That’s good, you know that you have passion I guess.” “Everyone does, what are you passionate about?” “I-I’m doing a law degree at the moment,” she responded after a pause. “But it’s not what you want to do is it ” “Well, no.” “So what do you want to do?”

Phi Phi hated this conversation, she normally would weasel out of it with some half hearted excuse about law was her passion, but for some reason she found herself telling Sharon. “I want to go into fashion design,” she said, her voice low. To her surprise, Sharon didn’t laugh or snicker as she’d expected her to, instead she nodded her head. “That’s cool. I reckon you’d be good at it.” “My parents don’t want me to,” said Phi Phi, “they-” “Who cares what your parents say,” responded Sharon, twisting a ring around her finger. “Do what you want, it’s your life isn’t it?” Phi Phi turned to respond, but was stopped by a group of teenagers queuing at her till. She smiled at Sharon, and lifted up her closed sign.

As she turned to the customers at her till, Phi Phi’s mind was racing with dangerous questions. Why don’t I quit my degree? What’s stopping me from design?

Why does Sharon’s opinion matter so much to me? •••• Violet was bored out of her mind. Her shift, which had started around two hours ago, had inched on slower than she’d ever known time to pass. Rather than serving customers, she’d spent the majority of the time picking at her nail polish and planning her schedule for the next week. She was contemplating sitting on the floor and taking a quick power nap, when a woman came into her line of sight and placed a basket of groceries and a reusable bag on the conveyer with a heavy thud.

Looking around the store, Violet could see the store was getting busy - or at least as busy as it could be. She also spotted a familiar head of blonde hair headed toward her till, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?” asked the lady in front of her. “Can I get some service?” Violet apologised profusely, and began to scan items as quickly as possible, because there was now a blonde figure cloaked in layers waiting patiently. Violet sent a half smile at Pearl, and was pleased to see she had received one back.

After what felt like far too long, Violet finally handed the lady her receipt, and turned to Pearl. “‘Sup,” said the blonde. “Hey Pearl,” responded Violet. “How are you?” “I’ve been going well thanks,” said Pearl and they both chuckled at the awkward formality between them. Violet scanned Pearl’s groceries languidly, in an attempt to stretch out what was sure to be the highlight of her shift. She was about to ask if Pearl was doing anything that evening, when her register let out a long beep, and the screen turned completely black.

Shit, she thought, searching behind the register for the on button, thinking the can of tomatoes in her hand had knocked it. Pressing on the button, the screen stayed black.

Very slowly, but surely, people were lining up behind Pearl, and the line was slowly stretching further into the store.

Shit, she thought again, banging her till with her hand, shaking the screen desperately trying to get the till to work again. Supervisor to lane 4,“ she called over the PA, hoping Phi Phi would be able to come and sort out the situation, but the supervisor just shook her head sympathetically as she gestured at the queue trailing from express.

Of course the one time the till breaks it gets busy, thought Violet. “Is everything alright?” asked Pearl, eyes wide with concern. “Yeah, um my monitor’s just having a moment,” replied Violet, watching the queue. Banging it one more time with her fist, the screen flickered back on, showing the can of tomatoes had been scanned 75 times. Groaning, Violet called Phi Phi again, knowing she’d never be able to void such a large amount without the supervisor code.

After everything had been sorted out, and Pearl was finally paying for her things, she said, “sorry to be such a problem today.” Instantly Violet responded, “you’re not a problem, it’s good to see you,” cringing at how she sounded. Pearl smiled, and flushed a small amount, although it could have just been a trick of the light. “It’s good to see you too. Enjoy the rest of your shift Vi,” she said as she walked off.

“Why am I not a supervisor yet?” asked Violet, as she handed her till to Phi Phi at the end of her shift. “I’m one of the best workers here.” Phi Phi snorted. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact you keep flirting with certain customers,” she responded, laughter in her voice. Violet smirked. “What’s the difference between flirting with a customer and flirting with the new employee.” Violet felt a sharp sense of satisfaction at Phi Phi’s mouth dropping open. “I’m…not…” she stuttered.

Just at that moment, Sharon walked back in to the store on break, looking stormy. Phi Phi went a deep shade of red. Violet chuckled as she pranced out the door. •••• “Do you want to catch up sometime outside the calming fluorescent lights of this supermarket?” Katya asked half an hour before they closed the store, “like go to Chipotle or something?” “Will you pay for my guacamole?” “Bitch who do you think I am? I work minimum wage at a supermarket!” Trixie laughed loudly, and responded, “but seriously that’d be great. I’ll just double check I’m not going out with my boyfriend or anything and I’ll text you.” She smiled at Katya but the blonde’s face had fallen a tiny, almost imperceptible amount. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend?” “Yeah, it’s um kind of new,” responded Trixie. She felt suddenly awkward for some reason, her insides knotting with a strange emotion that she quickly recognised. Dread. “It’s not a big deal is it?”

Katya’s face lit up again, a goofy smile stretching from one ear to the other. “No of course not.” Though her tone and face was cheerful enough, Trixie couldn’t help feeling as though there was something off about the whole expression. Come on Trixie, she thought, you’re allowed to have a boyfriend. If Katya can’t get over that it’s her fault. “What else are you keeping from me? Next you’re going to tell me your entire family is actually the mafia’s founders!” “Well, now my secret’s out you rotted Gila monster.”

Trixie laughed, thankful for the relieve, though there was still something dark and uneasy in Katya’s eyes.

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