Post by Feenixfire Lockheart on Jun 18, 2015 17:16:52 GMT
(( This is something people have been asking me to do for a while and over the summer holidays, I'll be writing up a new part on a biweekly basis. This part will focus on her early life to teenager life. ))
Part 1
'So how did my life go wrong? How did it go so very wrong? Why did it go wrong? What have I ever done to deserve this?
Oh yeah... I burned Simfur.'
In a large food bin, in a dark alleyway in Polyhex, was an 12ft feathered femme, a Predacon femme, one that looked down on her luck. Her feathers were dirty and patchy, her claws were covered in blood and her beak was no better. From hunting or from fights with Cybertronians or other Predacons, that wasn't known to any but the femme in the dumpster.
She uses her clawed hands to scratch the garbage below her for any left over energon cubes or metal, being careful not to make much noise in the dark, the restaurant owner would come out and try to chase her out or kill her, wouldn't be the first time she had been caught garbage hunting. The food made her ill, and hunting was mostly out of the question, her primary feathers hadn't developed yet and as such, she couldn't hunt silently and most wildlife heard her when hunting. Only the weak and the diseased could be hunted instead, and even then, it had to be when the clans weren't hunting, as she had a kill order on her if she went into any Predacon hunting grounds.
She stopped digging as she heard a burst of laughter from the open restaurant door next to the bin, her feathers rising up as she felt scared of these strange two legged creatures like herself. She relaxes as the mummer of speech was heard again and the clashing of dishes being washed continued.
She finds a half finished cube and takes a sip to check it wasn't high grade, the taste was slightly bitter, it meant that it had went off slightly. But she didn't mind, it was energon still. She drains the cube and vents deeply, it was a scrap of energon, but she couldn't complain as she had that to survive. Her tanks groaned and growled as it begged for more food, more metal meat to be shoved down her neck and into the eager stomach, this caused her to hug her knees tightly and try to ignore the growling.
'I'll get out of this bin when the restaurant closes...'
More crashing of plates and laughter rung out of the restaurant and caused her to clutch herself tighter and tense up. She didn't even dare to breath in case the cook came out and tried to shoot her for the Sunday roast.
Just then, a glitch-mouse crawled out from a hole at the side of the bin. The strange little creature scuttled up the pile that the femme was sat on, she was that weak and her predacon scent must have been weak as well, as the creature just looked at her. Maybe it was ill too...
She stares back, her tanks growling like crazy as it was crying for fresh metal meat. She then pounces for it, which in a cramped food bin, was a very bad idea. The bin tipped over and the contents spilled over, food, energon, the femme and all, causing an almighty crash as glass went everywhere.
The mouse skipped off into the distance, running as fast as it could from the noise, the femme cursed loudly in Predacon as she tried to pick herself up from the tumble. The chef then burst out of the kitchen door and stared at the femme's bright optics, he then cries out in anger and gets his gun out, aiming it right at her.
"GET OUT!!! GET OUT YOU LITTLE FILTHY GLITCH!!!! GO BACK WITH YOUR OWN FILTHY SPECIES!!!"
She hurries to her claws just as he starts shooting a shotgun at her. She then transforms into bird mode and flies off into the skyline, tears in her eyes. She was still a sparkling, she was still was scared and now so much more alone than when she was a little sparkling....
Part 2
Home. Home is where the spark is. No matter what that home was. To some, home is a lavish apartment in the high rising city of Iacon, to others, it was just a small blanket under the shelter of a doorway. To the Predacon femme, her home was a small tent under the highway, a tent that she had made herself from bits of metal, it wasn't a grand tent, but it was shelter none-the-less.
The femme flew towards Praxus where this home was, it wasn't far from her old clan home, but it was far enough away and in the city that much, that the clan wouldn't kill her. As she flies home, she looks over at the metal mountains in the distance that were once her home, the beating heart of the mountain contained the clan village, where the Firebirds and the Dragons of Praxus Clan called home.
She vents as she glides down into the city and into the dump under the highway. The noise from the highway above was deafening, but one got use to it after a while. She lands softly and transforms back into robot mode, making sure no one was around, she then goes around the dump, to gather items to make a campfire.
She still had no control over her own powers still, she was too scared to use them really, so she had to learn how to make a fire without such powers. She didn't know if she was a freak with her powers, or normal, her parents would have explained about her powers and if it was something to do with the clan bloodline.
As she grabs some oil on the ground, a large cog rolled past her. She spun around and looked around, hoping it was a meal rather than a Cybertronian thug... then again... a meal is a meal... The femme growls loudly and draws her blunt knife as she warned whatever was lurking the dump.
A lower, more submissive growl was sounded back to her, as two green eyes appeared in the darkness and got bigger as it got closer. The beast then came into the light and revealed itself, the Predacon was strange to say the least, it had a dragon's body, head, and tail, but had Phoenix like wings and feathers on its tail and head, it was a cross between both.
The femme looks at the Predacon in disbelief, then smiled. Saying in her singsong voice, "Lady FeatherScale."
Lady FeatherScale smiles a toothy dragon smile and gives a friendly series of chirps and growls, saying back to the young femme, "Feenixfire Lockheart, I have finally found you."
Feenixfire grins back and flies into the dragon arms of FeatherScale, which embraced her with both arms and bright gold wings. Feenix returned the embrace and tried not to cry. She then says with some confusion, "Why are you here? Has my exile been lifted? What has happened to my siblings? Are they okay?"
"Calm yourself young one," FeatherScale said, "Your exile has not been lifted, the Elders have been very tough on that, with the High Grand breathing down their neck and such. Nothing has happened to your siblings, they are doing alright," Feather preens Feenix a bit and continues, "I am here to help you. Let's talk over a meal."
Feenix nodded, despite the fact she had no meals to provide to her guest, she then leads her back to the camp. The camp was nothing more than a small metal hut with a makeshift campfire pit outside the hut, there wasn't even a nest. As Feenix started a campfire with her gathered materials, FeatherScale looked around at this sorry state of a home.
Feenix started a fire by scraping metal together on some energon and she got her last tin of food out, she would have only have touched it if she was desperate. She then gets a makeshift grill out to place the tin on to cook it, she does this then sits down.
Feather blinks as she took in this sorry scene of this promising femme in a state of near starvation, empathy filled her as it was clear how lost this youngling was. Feenix opened the can of energon metal soup and stirred it with a small grease rod, keeping quiet as she waited for Feather to speak. But the old femme remained silent as she watched, a blaring noise of an alternative mode horn made her jump but not Feenix, she was use to that.
The dinner was soon done and Feenix found two pans to put the soup in, she hands the pan over to Feather and fills it with two thirds of the tin, obeying an old engrained instinct to allow those above her in the Predacon system to have more. She empties the rest of the tin into her own and she sips the soup, venting deeply.
After a bit of eating, Feather spoke up, "is this really what it has came to youngling? Is this really how desperate you are?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Don't be proud Feenixfire, it won't get you anywhere in your state of affairs. Look at yourself, you are nothing but exo-skeleton and feathers, how long ago was it that you last ate properly?"
Feenix went quiet at this question, choosing not to answer her, as she honestly couldn't remember her last proper meal of hot meat. FeatherScale pouted at this and then continues, "and why are you all cut and ragged... Is that a gunshot wound?"
Feenix still refused to answer as her hand went to cover a scarred and infected gunshot wound, she didn't even know that she was doing it. She looks up at the Oracle and growls a little, but her optics were pleading, pleading for comfort and help.
The old femme sighed, dropping the harshness out of her voice and attitude, tough love wasn't going to help now, she had been through that already. FeatherScale reached over and hugged Feenix over the fire, sobs could be heard from the Lockheart youngling as they embraced.
Feather then helps Feenix up and takes her to the shanty tent, she then lies her down and gets her slingbag out, Feather was a medic apprentice before she became an Oracle, so she knew what was needed to treat the wounds.
Feenix laid there in silence, letting her treat the wound, the only noise she made was a whine when Feather cut the dent of infected oil and it seeped out as she drained it. Failure to keep up a good diet had messed with her systems so much, made healing impossible and in turn, the energy to catch food wasn't even there.
The healing process continued throughout the night, most of it was in silence as Feather worked hard. By the time dawn came, the campfire was nothing but smoldering embers and a few puffs of smoke here and there. Feather wiped her hands as her work was done, Feenix smiles and says in a soft tone, "thank you Oracle."
"Please child, your mother called me Feather, and you shall call me the same. This is repaying of old debts, debts I never paid while she was still alive."
Feenix touched her gunshot wound and felt the crushed pink crystals against the wound, the paste would protect it was infection and promote the healing. She slowly gets up and says, "is that really why you are here?"
"No child, I am here because I believe you deserve a second chance."
"After what I have done? Pffff... no really, why are you here?"
"I am serious Lockheart! The Elders regard you as nothing, a smear on the name of our clan, an embarrassment, frag, they even demoted the family standing!"
Feenix looked horrified at this, her jaw hung open, she then says in a tiny voice, "my brothers! My sister! What has happened to them?"
"They have became grunts, they were taken in by Auntie Amberclaw. Thank Primus. They are trying to get their standing back in the clan, but it will be a long journey, as is with you."
"What do you mean Ms. Oracle?"
The Oracle sighed and looked at her, "I am willing to train you, help you, teach you, turn you into a fine huntress of exiles. I believe and see there is hope for you yet. I am willing to take you in as my own."
Part 1
'So how did my life go wrong? How did it go so very wrong? Why did it go wrong? What have I ever done to deserve this?
Oh yeah... I burned Simfur.'
In a large food bin, in a dark alleyway in Polyhex, was an 12ft feathered femme, a Predacon femme, one that looked down on her luck. Her feathers were dirty and patchy, her claws were covered in blood and her beak was no better. From hunting or from fights with Cybertronians or other Predacons, that wasn't known to any but the femme in the dumpster.
She uses her clawed hands to scratch the garbage below her for any left over energon cubes or metal, being careful not to make much noise in the dark, the restaurant owner would come out and try to chase her out or kill her, wouldn't be the first time she had been caught garbage hunting. The food made her ill, and hunting was mostly out of the question, her primary feathers hadn't developed yet and as such, she couldn't hunt silently and most wildlife heard her when hunting. Only the weak and the diseased could be hunted instead, and even then, it had to be when the clans weren't hunting, as she had a kill order on her if she went into any Predacon hunting grounds.
She stopped digging as she heard a burst of laughter from the open restaurant door next to the bin, her feathers rising up as she felt scared of these strange two legged creatures like herself. She relaxes as the mummer of speech was heard again and the clashing of dishes being washed continued.
She finds a half finished cube and takes a sip to check it wasn't high grade, the taste was slightly bitter, it meant that it had went off slightly. But she didn't mind, it was energon still. She drains the cube and vents deeply, it was a scrap of energon, but she couldn't complain as she had that to survive. Her tanks groaned and growled as it begged for more food, more metal meat to be shoved down her neck and into the eager stomach, this caused her to hug her knees tightly and try to ignore the growling.
'I'll get out of this bin when the restaurant closes...'
More crashing of plates and laughter rung out of the restaurant and caused her to clutch herself tighter and tense up. She didn't even dare to breath in case the cook came out and tried to shoot her for the Sunday roast.
Just then, a glitch-mouse crawled out from a hole at the side of the bin. The strange little creature scuttled up the pile that the femme was sat on, she was that weak and her predacon scent must have been weak as well, as the creature just looked at her. Maybe it was ill too...
She stares back, her tanks growling like crazy as it was crying for fresh metal meat. She then pounces for it, which in a cramped food bin, was a very bad idea. The bin tipped over and the contents spilled over, food, energon, the femme and all, causing an almighty crash as glass went everywhere.
The mouse skipped off into the distance, running as fast as it could from the noise, the femme cursed loudly in Predacon as she tried to pick herself up from the tumble. The chef then burst out of the kitchen door and stared at the femme's bright optics, he then cries out in anger and gets his gun out, aiming it right at her.
"GET OUT!!! GET OUT YOU LITTLE FILTHY GLITCH!!!! GO BACK WITH YOUR OWN FILTHY SPECIES!!!"
She hurries to her claws just as he starts shooting a shotgun at her. She then transforms into bird mode and flies off into the skyline, tears in her eyes. She was still a sparkling, she was still was scared and now so much more alone than when she was a little sparkling....
Part 2
Home. Home is where the spark is. No matter what that home was. To some, home is a lavish apartment in the high rising city of Iacon, to others, it was just a small blanket under the shelter of a doorway. To the Predacon femme, her home was a small tent under the highway, a tent that she had made herself from bits of metal, it wasn't a grand tent, but it was shelter none-the-less.
The femme flew towards Praxus where this home was, it wasn't far from her old clan home, but it was far enough away and in the city that much, that the clan wouldn't kill her. As she flies home, she looks over at the metal mountains in the distance that were once her home, the beating heart of the mountain contained the clan village, where the Firebirds and the Dragons of Praxus Clan called home.
She vents as she glides down into the city and into the dump under the highway. The noise from the highway above was deafening, but one got use to it after a while. She lands softly and transforms back into robot mode, making sure no one was around, she then goes around the dump, to gather items to make a campfire.
She still had no control over her own powers still, she was too scared to use them really, so she had to learn how to make a fire without such powers. She didn't know if she was a freak with her powers, or normal, her parents would have explained about her powers and if it was something to do with the clan bloodline.
As she grabs some oil on the ground, a large cog rolled past her. She spun around and looked around, hoping it was a meal rather than a Cybertronian thug... then again... a meal is a meal... The femme growls loudly and draws her blunt knife as she warned whatever was lurking the dump.
A lower, more submissive growl was sounded back to her, as two green eyes appeared in the darkness and got bigger as it got closer. The beast then came into the light and revealed itself, the Predacon was strange to say the least, it had a dragon's body, head, and tail, but had Phoenix like wings and feathers on its tail and head, it was a cross between both.
The femme looks at the Predacon in disbelief, then smiled. Saying in her singsong voice, "Lady FeatherScale."
Lady FeatherScale smiles a toothy dragon smile and gives a friendly series of chirps and growls, saying back to the young femme, "Feenixfire Lockheart, I have finally found you."
Feenixfire grins back and flies into the dragon arms of FeatherScale, which embraced her with both arms and bright gold wings. Feenix returned the embrace and tried not to cry. She then says with some confusion, "Why are you here? Has my exile been lifted? What has happened to my siblings? Are they okay?"
"Calm yourself young one," FeatherScale said, "Your exile has not been lifted, the Elders have been very tough on that, with the High Grand breathing down their neck and such. Nothing has happened to your siblings, they are doing alright," Feather preens Feenix a bit and continues, "I am here to help you. Let's talk over a meal."
Feenix nodded, despite the fact she had no meals to provide to her guest, she then leads her back to the camp. The camp was nothing more than a small metal hut with a makeshift campfire pit outside the hut, there wasn't even a nest. As Feenix started a campfire with her gathered materials, FeatherScale looked around at this sorry state of a home.
Feenix started a fire by scraping metal together on some energon and she got her last tin of food out, she would have only have touched it if she was desperate. She then gets a makeshift grill out to place the tin on to cook it, she does this then sits down.
Feather blinks as she took in this sorry scene of this promising femme in a state of near starvation, empathy filled her as it was clear how lost this youngling was. Feenix opened the can of energon metal soup and stirred it with a small grease rod, keeping quiet as she waited for Feather to speak. But the old femme remained silent as she watched, a blaring noise of an alternative mode horn made her jump but not Feenix, she was use to that.
The dinner was soon done and Feenix found two pans to put the soup in, she hands the pan over to Feather and fills it with two thirds of the tin, obeying an old engrained instinct to allow those above her in the Predacon system to have more. She empties the rest of the tin into her own and she sips the soup, venting deeply.
After a bit of eating, Feather spoke up, "is this really what it has came to youngling? Is this really how desperate you are?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Don't be proud Feenixfire, it won't get you anywhere in your state of affairs. Look at yourself, you are nothing but exo-skeleton and feathers, how long ago was it that you last ate properly?"
Feenix went quiet at this question, choosing not to answer her, as she honestly couldn't remember her last proper meal of hot meat. FeatherScale pouted at this and then continues, "and why are you all cut and ragged... Is that a gunshot wound?"
Feenix still refused to answer as her hand went to cover a scarred and infected gunshot wound, she didn't even know that she was doing it. She looks up at the Oracle and growls a little, but her optics were pleading, pleading for comfort and help.
The old femme sighed, dropping the harshness out of her voice and attitude, tough love wasn't going to help now, she had been through that already. FeatherScale reached over and hugged Feenix over the fire, sobs could be heard from the Lockheart youngling as they embraced.
Feather then helps Feenix up and takes her to the shanty tent, she then lies her down and gets her slingbag out, Feather was a medic apprentice before she became an Oracle, so she knew what was needed to treat the wounds.
Feenix laid there in silence, letting her treat the wound, the only noise she made was a whine when Feather cut the dent of infected oil and it seeped out as she drained it. Failure to keep up a good diet had messed with her systems so much, made healing impossible and in turn, the energy to catch food wasn't even there.
The healing process continued throughout the night, most of it was in silence as Feather worked hard. By the time dawn came, the campfire was nothing but smoldering embers and a few puffs of smoke here and there. Feather wiped her hands as her work was done, Feenix smiles and says in a soft tone, "thank you Oracle."
"Please child, your mother called me Feather, and you shall call me the same. This is repaying of old debts, debts I never paid while she was still alive."
Feenix touched her gunshot wound and felt the crushed pink crystals against the wound, the paste would protect it was infection and promote the healing. She slowly gets up and says, "is that really why you are here?"
"No child, I am here because I believe you deserve a second chance."
"After what I have done? Pffff... no really, why are you here?"
"I am serious Lockheart! The Elders regard you as nothing, a smear on the name of our clan, an embarrassment, frag, they even demoted the family standing!"
Feenix looked horrified at this, her jaw hung open, she then says in a tiny voice, "my brothers! My sister! What has happened to them?"
"They have became grunts, they were taken in by Auntie Amberclaw. Thank Primus. They are trying to get their standing back in the clan, but it will be a long journey, as is with you."
"What do you mean Ms. Oracle?"
The Oracle sighed and looked at her, "I am willing to train you, help you, teach you, turn you into a fine huntress of exiles. I believe and see there is hope for you yet. I am willing to take you in as my own."