All Wayward Stars, Do Not Want To Come Home

★ All wayward stars, do not want to come home★

► Indie RP blog for a fandomless Alien OC

► Semi-selective

► Penned by Potato, ‘bout 9 years of doing Tumblr RP and counting

► Like/reblog for me to come say hi!

[MUSE] --- [ARSENAL] --- [GALACTIC LAW]

@despicable-ruler​ started following stxr-bxster

Space was an incredibly vast concept.

Functionally, it was a whole lot of empty NOTHING, filled with rocks and bits of rare elements floating about. Pockets of somewhat interesting things were few and inconcievably far in-between.

...And yet, paradoxically, that’s how Krigg found herself always back at her own little cobbled map of the galaxy, writing away in the vast margins of empty space, blotting out large swathes of the known world in a red overlay that her personnal color chart coded as “no-go zone”.

Because as soon as a race, ANY race, became space-faring, they usually worked to make the distance mean a whole lot less by any means necessary. Auspex arrays, deep space scans - freakin’ space bridges, to name a couple. Once there was danger in one concentrated point, it spread as far as their metaphorical eyes and ears could percieve, because their hands would soon follow that reach.

If being a free flying element with no allegiances other than her own had taught Krigg anything, it was that knowing which places to skirt carefully, or cross at one’s own peril, was the best way not to be caught with your pants down.

And as far as she could tell, Cybertronian space was one of those hard no-go zones. She didn’t know that much about them - most other sapients observed them from a stone throw away, and what they did have were spotty reports on a lenghty history of internal conflicts, making colonies almost exclusively for mining purposes, and a STRONG distaste for organic life.

Ah, and them being giant autonomous technological life forms. That was pretty important.

Didn’t stop them from occasionally puttering off away from their usual stomping grounds for whatever reason, though. Krigg would’ve lied if she said she wasn’t *slightly* curious about the sporadic change of habits, but she wasn’t going to risk her behind for it. Which was why she was sitting in complete engine darkness, her Revenger dead as a rock to scans and signals, filtering through distant radio chatter to jot down new travel routes to keep away from.

chancestander​:

♫

Rex seems to just be standing at the edge of a dock, watching the waves…

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-

For some obscure reason - at least for the time, a low underlying rumble had begun sounding off, somewhat ruining the serene, contemplative atmosphere.

GrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

And it was getting louder.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

And louder still, the grumble swelling into a distinctly mechanical roar interrupted on occasion by a screech of metal on metal, or a sputter, and shadowed by the sound of whistling air. The source of the cacophony soon made itself known as it passed overhead from the cosmic contendern, engines thundering.

A large spaceship. A red and gold spaceship, not too unlike what you’d see in the average saturday morning cartoon, albeit a little more sleek and advanced, with a myriad of thrusters belching out streams of blue energy at the back, distributed between a main body and two “wings” of sorts. One of which appeared to be missing a sizeable chunk of its bulk. The gaping wound in the hull where the tip was once attached sparking and trailing smog, and the ship’s whole weight was heavily leaning towards the damaged wing.

It tried to correct itself as best it could before touching the water, having been stuck on a slow, downards descent towards the ground. the nose of the spaceship tilted upwards right on time to avoid plunging under the waves. But with a loud POP, the damaged wing’s whole thruster array gave out, leaving it sluggishly hovering in place for a few seconds, before slowly tilting back towards the ocean, landing into the harbor with a massive splash.

Onlookers could have sworn they heard a loud scream just before the splash.

“FUCK!”

5mind​:

Impressive. Somehow the small stranger seemed to be even more agitated than when she was hollering at them. Was it something they said? Oh it was definitely something they said.  

Now she was trying so damn hard to intimidate them. It was a little funny, they had to admit. A sense of humour was something Fivemind only developed later in what can be considered its life, and thus something it does not feel comfortable expressing openly. All for the better, considering that laughing would only exacerbate the situation. 

And it seemed the other had every right to be angry anyways. 

“Oh! You live in this!” the red one replied. “My apologies.”

This stranger had sharp eyes it seemed. And here the machine thought no one would notice if it just made of with a singular screw ( at least not until when its too late). Scavengers they may be but sabotaging someone’s home and livelihood was…well, that’s just not what heroes do. Not unless if the other was evil anyways.

“We were thinking of taking at least a little of your ship for…..further analysis.” The blue one spoke up this time. In contrast to her red plated counterpart, her speech was much more even in tone and very obviously synthetic. ”But seeing how this is your home, I suppose we should have just asked first.”

“Let us put it this way,” Red One said, “We were just admiring the craftsmanship of your vehicle-” 

Blue Two completed the sentence, “- enough to want to take it apart.”

“We will not though!” 

This would be so much more convincing if Red’s bladed arm wasn’t idly twitching and Blue didn’t still have the screwdriver in her hand.

“IN “THIS”. Really? My beloved Revenger, just a mere THIS? Come on.” Krigg huffed sharply, tilting her chin up for emphasis as she strolled around the two drones to place herself quite strategically between the screwdriver-weilding stranger, and her adored ship. She was not going to be caught taking risks of them nicking off with a small pannel that’d bring a crucial function of the ship unexpectedly offline.

The mentions of asking first before taking the ship apart after certainly struck her as not entirely honest. She narrowed her eyes, glaring quietly at the two drones, one sporting a much less smoothed out voice box. Were the two AI, or just remote drones of various degrees of quality? No, no, the second one had what sounded like a voice synthetizer found in basic AI.

“I don’t care if it’s “a bit”, or if you should have asked - don’t make me have to do repairs! If you want to get some scrap metal to, I don’t know, chew on or something, I have spare bits that don’t require me replacing something yet for you to mess them up!” Krigg ends up huffing, hands plopped onto her hips for added emphasis, staring with a rather blatant lack of trust at the two drones.

If giving them some of the metal scrap from repair jobs she did semi-frequently could keep the metal-crazy drone chipmunks AWAY from the Revenger, then it was honestly better than being arsed to find a new parking spot. Or fighting them off. It wasn’t that she *feared* them by any stretch of the imagination, but they were still heavy duty machinery with sharp blades strapped to it.

Krigg was confident, not stupid.

I got block’d by someone. It’s absolutely the fist time that happened and I legit have no idea why it did. It was by a nice-looking blog too, bummer.

I’m absolutely going to be worrying over my blog or my behavior having something wrong with it, but later.

“Hey, I know what gets people in a good mood! Let me sing you all the song of my people! AHEM-!”

As Krigg takes a proud step forwards, puffing out her chest and lifting her chin... she fails to notice the somewhat large rock her boot manages to land on at a weird angle, twisting her ankle. The diminutive extraterrestrial’s whole body follows suit, arms windmilling furiously as she takes a nosedive.

“SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-”