The Burden Hardest to Bear

Um...

Sun, 08 Jul 2007 02:22:14 GMT

Which of Henry VIII's wives are you?
this quiz was made by Lori Fury

I'm sure there's a cultural reference here that I'm not getting.

Half-drunk and introspective.

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 14:09:14 GMT

What with one thing and another, it's been a busy few days for me... I almost missed a certain anniversary. Does it make me a hopeless dork that I still remember the exact date?

Well, anyway, skipping my medbay appointment for a date with a cube of high-grade seems like an appropriate way to celebrate, in his persistent absence.

*contemplates his cube, sighs and hoists it up*

To Galvatron - may he continue to be a danger to everyone around him for millenia to come.

*drinks*

Heh!

Sun, 17 Jun 2007 20:39:59 GMT

Dare I say it... I look positively kickass.

Wayward does good work.

headdesk

Wed, 06 Jun 2007 19:24:24 GMT

*headdesk* *headdesk* *HEADDESK*

I'm going to the Pit. In a rickety slagging cargo skiff.

*goes back to trying to blot out the memory via the time-honored standby, blunt-force trauma to the cranium*

Just a small PSA

Tue, 22 May 2007 21:08:49 GMT

Attention all:

My kitten mode does not, in any way, resemble Puss in Boots. I would very much prefer that in the future when you encounter me in kitten mode you refrain from attempting to shove me in little boots and a hat.

That is all.

~~Never should have sponsored that field trip to see Shrek the Third...~~

Hehehe.

Thu, 03 May 2007 00:18:58 GMT

This gives me ideas.

*heads over to eBay*

((Typist note: I am so, so sorry.))

groans headdesks

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 00:03:58 GMT

Just when I thought it was safe to go back out in the halls...

...somebody took the crew out to see 300.

The halls ring with declamations of ancient Greek city-states. And I do mean that literally.

And I thought Spartacus was bad.

((THNMY, again. Pretend this happens before the one on Christmas.))

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 23:34:46 GMT

*To avoid inter-faction complications, Rodimus is using his own shuttle to get back to Autobot City. Rather, he's borrowing a shuttle that the Dis 'borrowed' from some other unfortunate.*

*After verifying his identity with the EDC and setting the autopilot to get him into orbit without mishap, Rodimus gathers his courage and opens a comm line to Metroplex's intercom to address the Autobots.*

//Autobots; Rodimus here. I'm coming home. I trust everything's been running smoothly while I'm gone... For a change. *audible grin*//

//I've got souveneirs for everybody; stop by my office sometime. *pause* I also owe you all an apology. I shouldn't have run off like that, so soon after another crisis. You all made me - would've made Optimus proud. And you deserved better. I'm sorry.//

//If you'd like to yell at me, again, drop by my office. The door's always open.//

*That done, Rodimus sits back in the pilot's chair and watches the solar system flash by.*

Saga of the Baby Zambonis, part 2

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 01:17:22 GMT

*After much discussion, it was decided that Snowcat's cubs would be safest in Rodimus's office-bedroom complex, the only place having greater security being the brig. And so, the zambonis were to live in Roddy's rooms.*

*It should be noted that Rodimus was not present for this decision. However, he's taken to his newest duty with good humor, and is currently building beds for the little monsters out of energon crates. He glances up when Metroplex chimes a warning. Someone's coming down the hall...*

((THNMY: sometime after Roddy gets back from vacay.))

Sun, 28 Jan 2007 22:20:32 GMT

*Rodimus Prime's office is at the end of a dark hallway, connected to his room by a door. It is unoccupied right now. It is also imprudently unlocked.*

*What, oh what will happen next...?*

((Retconned. Time has no meaning yay.))

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 04:45:42 GMT

I'm back. And un-human-ified. Finally.

Springer: *from offscreen* Let's go, Rod! Those kids at the hospital aren't getting any sicker!

...-_- *shouts back* Springer, you are so getting coal in your stocking! *grumbles goodnaturedly and gathers up his beard and hat for his role as Roddy Claus*

...Anyway, joyful greetings, everyone. *ahem* I mean, ho ho ho.

((TimeHasNoMeaningYay Meme Post!))

Fri, 01 Dec 2006 19:30:20 GMT

((Okay, Rath, I did it. Now it's your turn. ;P

Well, now we know why Roddy and 'Boots get along so well. ^_^;; ))

RP post - yep, still getting himself in trouble

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 02:41:17 GMT

*Yes, the slaves get bathroom breaks. Carefully monitored and strictly controlled and with no pretense made at privacy whatsoever, but there comes a certain point where your body does not care who's looking.*

*Roddy's picked up a few habits from the humans he works with, though, so on the single bathroom break he gets per day - the other two having been taken away as punishment for various infractions, real or imagined - he faces the wall, hands covering himself as best he can from the flinty black eyes of the Skuxxoid guard on duty. He sighs and tries to relax.*

*Trying to relax, of course, has always been counterproductive, and in the meantime there are voices coming down the hall. Rodimus stills out of habit, listening for orders or the crackle that heralds a punishing shock from his collar. His head bowed, he catches blue trader-legs out of the corner of his eye, along with a gray blur...*

"As you can see, production is progressing smoothly. Slave rebellion is quelled..." "Reports of worker loss and productivity lulls suggest otherwise. I want to see discipline, Daru." "Ah - of course, Celebrexa..."

*All possibility of relaxation is gone. Roddy's jaw clenches as he fights not to attack the pair right then. Can't put himself, can't put the others in danger, but that was a Quintesson...*

*thinks* Autobots do not work for Quints. Not now, not ever.

One damn thing after another.

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 02:44:39 GMT

((Continued from here.))

*Rodimus enters his office - stalks would be more like it, as he's still quite pissed off that someone has screwed with one of his.* Metroplex, enact all available security measures. I want this room locked down.

*Without waiting for a response, he activates his personal comm and speaks into it tightly.* Spike, Carly, report to my office, please. Immediately. *It's not often that he pulls rank with the humans, especially these particular humans, but he'll bake them a cake as apology or something later.*

It's finally over.

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 03:00:17 GMT

Void's defeated (and now I'm glad I found those silicon crystals), and his forces are captured and/or defected. Galvatron still has his head, and I mean that in both senses, but it was a near thing for a while. We lost friends in the doing... I'm sorry, Dreadboots. Would your flock mind if I sent the convincelings over to visit them? They've been giving me sadfaces all day.

I've... been thinking a lot since we got home, about how the Autobots and Decepticons worked together. There was a lot less friction than I was expecting... we actually seemed to get along for the most part. I can't help but wonder if it's possible to extend the truce we have now into something more.

We made a good team, didn't we?

Outside Metroplex

Sun, 20 Aug 2006 01:59:23 GMT

*If anyone asks, Rodimus has the fact that he's been coordinating repairs between the Dis and the EDC as an excuse for why he's driving slowly. The fact that Galvatron's half-slagged, limping along in midair at his bumper has absolutely nothing to do with his pace whatsoever.*

*Nevertheless, he's never been so glad to see the massive gates of Metroplex. He quickens his engine just a little before catching himself, forcing himself to continue at the same slow, steady pace until they reach the bridge.*

Metroplex, stand down.

*As the doors yawn open, Rodimus transforms and scans the sky over his shoulder, waiting for a familiar blue shape.*

A call to battle

Thu, 10 Aug 2006 17:41:36 GMT

*Rodimus Prime stands at the edge of one of Autobot City's top-level landing pads, fist raised level with his chest as if in salute. A panel on his forearm lifts away and he begins to speak, steady and strong.*

Attention, Autobots. This is Rodimus Prime. I'm sending out a Class One Alert, so everyone to their stations and gear up. My - *bitter smile* alternate is in the area and if he doesn't come after us, then we're going after him. I want all scanners to full, I don't care where you get the power from. If you see him or his servants, shoot on sight. The truce does not apply to Void - repeat, the truce does not apply.

Rodimus Prime out.

*He shuts his comm off, then turns back to his companions - Galvatron, Cyclonus, Scourge, Dreadboots, and Scourge's alternate from the Voidverse - all Decepticons for whom the truce does apply - as well as a rather worried Ariel.*

All right. *nods* Let's get started.

((The typist runs by holding a sign that says "This way for Void Saga Part One."))

checks calendar

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 02:09:53 GMT

...yep, it's my birthday. Against all odds, I have survived another year.

^_^;;

I really don't want to know.

Mon, 07 Aug 2006 03:40:28 GMT

Nexus LOL strikes again. What am I supposed to do with this?

Transcript: morning, Rodimus Prime's quarters

Thu, 03 Aug 2006 14:02:52 GMT

*Rodimus Prime's everpresent typist enters his quarters, cautiously when she sees that the light is still off.*

Typist: ...Roddy?

*Atop the berth, Rodimus stirs painfully. The moogle trots over and pokes his hand where it hangs over.*

Typist: Roddy, you're missing a staff meeting.

Rodimus: ...mrf. Good. *stirs, lifts his head up and blinks* ...oh, ow. *winces*

Typist: ...are you okay?

Rodimus: *turns one of his obviously-false smiles on her* Just overdid it a little last night. I'll be okay. Tell Magnus... *winces again and sits up slowly* ...well, make something up.

Typist: *pauses, worried, then sighs* Will do.

*exit typist. Rodimus doesn't move except to put a hand to his forehead*

I did a dumb thing.

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 04:56:55 GMT

*Rodimus sits on his berth, looking a little dented and worse for wear, but all the major damage from fighting a zombie version of Optimus Prime has been repaired.*

*The physical damage, anyway. Rodimus pulls his knee to his chest, resting his arms around it, staring blankly into his room and seeing nothing. The Matrix still throbs sullenly within him, but even that pales in comparison with self-recrimination and the twisting pain of having had to fight his hero to the death.*

*Later he will return to the gorge to gather the wreckage - if there is any, the Prime he'd fought being a magical construct. For now, the best he can do is remain awake and think, and privately bless Kup for drilling into him the essentials of combat.*

*Not that he'd ever say anything of the sort to the old-timer. No reason to boost his ego.*

It's thunderstorming.

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 04:55:45 GMT

I like Earth thunderstorms. I know they cause problems, but they're also beautiful to behold. And they're also necessary for life on this planet, or so I've read. I like that image - death and life all intertwined.

Storms are rare on Cybertron. Like, maybe once every hundred years or so when we still orbited a sun; now it's more like five thousand years between storms, depending on how far away we are from stars and planets and black holes and such. And as far as I know they don't do much more than destroy. There's not much in the way of rain - acid rain is mostly a tool of war - but we get wind and lightning that's severe enough that a lot of people just shut themselves and their equipment down for the duration.

One of the stories that survived the Second Great War, when Cybertron was divided between Decepticons in the skies and Autobots underground, was of an activate who fell in love with a storm. He was supposed to go offline with the rest of his troop, but for some reason he stayed awake and watched as the storm raged overhead. He'd never seen anything so destructive or beautiful, and he was completely enchanted. He woke up the troop boss and begged to be let out so he could experience the storm with all his senses, but the boss wouldn't do it.

For a hundred years he waited on the rooftops, optics to the sky, for the next storm, and nothing anyone could say could draw his attentions back to the world. After that hundred years' time, the skywatchers were predicting the most fearsome storm in memory. Cybertron shut itself down in preparation, but no one could find the activate who loved storms. They left the encampment door open for as long as they could, but eventually they were forced to close it and hope the activate had found shelter somewhere else.

The storm raged for days, and when it finally abated, the people emerged to begin repairing their broken structures and found the activate sprawled on a rooftop, smiling, his functions expired. When he was interred, they said that rather than return to Primus he had chosen to ride with the storm. They say that even now you can hear voices in the storm winds, the child of Cybertron dancing with his lover.

I think of that story when it storms, and I wonder about that activate. I wonder if it was worth it, to give up everything else and lose himself in that destructive force...

...even though I know what he'd say.

...?

Thu, 06 Jul 2006 04:05:47 GMT

There is a flat thing on my desk.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with it, other than carry it around. I can barely even pick it up.

And in the midst of all the drama...

Mon, 19 Jun 2006 04:56:54 GMT

Yes, I've picked up another stray mechanism. He looks Autobot-built, but he's pretty confused and vulnerable, so please nobody mess with him. Or I'll put you on kindergarten duty. *means it*

((Mun's note: Nobody tell Roddy who he is right away, please? Marisa's got something else plotted out.))

...just, slag.

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 01:04:39 GMT

So... not all of the visions Unicron showed me were just possibilities.

None of the Autobots have said anything about it... I guess I'm kinda waiting for it to occur to someone. That... that thing could have been me. How close did I come?

*tilts head back and shuts off optics* I'm not him. He's nothing like me. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

...and on a related note, I wonder what the Unicronians from my 'verse are going to think of this. *rubs helm, half-worried, half amused at himself*

~~It's not as if Galvatron can dump me for my evil twin.~~