shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

-fluffs his plating briefly- no, I´m Sprocket!

 

SprocketScrap 's good name.

 

[He pulls another face, though it looks more like he's stomping on impulses to fuss at her and be all worried and caring than that he looks disgusted or anything]
Yeah, no, I'll pass.

 

It doesn't fill you up when you wake up, though.

 

-head tilt. Newcomer seems to keep adding Scrap onto names for some reason-
Where you from? Have you got a swarm?
-do strange shellbots have swarms?-

 

Heh yer n'fun.

'Round. Naw, no swarm. M'too greusome an' ugly an' "obsessed with death". *That part was in air quotes*

 

I'm sorry? [Yep you've confused her enough to break the Customer Mode for now] I don't think I want to pour engex out for myself that seems beside the point. [Though really that's not for Primus or Quintus or any of these. No you pay homage to the Deep or you die, that's how it goes. Deities on far off planets or squirreled away in glittering towers don't help you]

Oh, that's a pity. Still, at least you get to enjoy it here a while? [Tempting, though the other mechs are strange. They look like insects and such and she's just going to stay with Stentato that seems save and much more familiar]

 

[gruff mirthless laugh.]
Mechs keep telling me so.

 

Well why not though? Although I would recommend pouring the engex into your fuel intake instead of on your frame if you are inclined that way. It tends to taste much better like that.

 

-offended bug noises- You´re not ugly! Death is a strange profession but I´m sure there is a place for it!

 

"It means you don't interface," says Lissa, "even if sometimes you really do feel like it and the other party would like to."

 

Why? -chitters and grooms at his helm in confusion- What does that do?

 

Aww y'sweet.

Stop it then, y'spike eater.

 

[She resets her optics and tries to make sense of this, but nope, more input require and she shouldn't be poking this but according to Stentato things here don't actually... happen. She's just dreaming, right?] Because the point of pouring energon out for the Deep is that it doesn't swallow you up on your next tour. Or keeps one of your limbs as a tribute? Rubbing myself in is counterproductive [she add very very quietly] and costs extra because getting it out the joints is terrible.

 

Yeah. What do you wanna check out here? I can show you stuff, too.

-He pats her knee comfortingly.-

 

[He sputters a little.]
I don't- well only one that is-
Stop that!

[He snorts]
I can imagine that. But that's just a sensible business transaction. Like paying a road toll. Nothing to do with worship.

 

Oooh purity culture likes spikes! M'gonna tell yer maker on ya, gonna go find t'b'man'm'self an' tattle on ya!

 

Oh um I don't know what you can do around here? I mean is there like a limit? [The space is... she can't look into the distance too hard without getting slightly nauseaous, it's like being at sea when there's fog out and there's no horizon, only a faded pass of greyish blue where sky and sea meet]

No you don't understand how Obrizon works. They know if you're not being respectful and then things go bad and someone of your fleet goes missing. [She might, potentially, not be talking solely about Things That Live Beneath anymore]

 

Thank youß What does someone who does death do. A Deather? What´s your profession called?

Who´s the Deep? Is that like the Ground or the Him?

 

Y'sually I kill frags, b' I always wanted t'take care'a bodies an' make statues outta dead an'mals.