ForsytheYou know, now that I look at it, Sodalite is a lot like Peridorito.
-Both started off as the information-hoarding dark one.
-Earth happens.
-Meme.
-Both started off as the information-hoarding dark one.
-Earth happens.
-Meme.
Status
Recent Statuses
5 yrs ago
Current
Oh yeah. It's soup time again.
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6 yrs ago
Soup Time. A Year Later.
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7 yrs ago
Soup time.
4
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7 yrs ago
I am currently sick and putting all of my energy into work, please forgive me if I don’t respond right away or forget things!
1
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7 yrs ago
Sometimes... it is
Bio
Normally unavailable between 3pm-9pm, always welcoming RP ideas, large groups, small groups, 1x1s, you name it!
Most Recent Posts
*dork squad fuses and does something immature and predictable*
Aqua: for fucks sake, my children.
Aqua: for fucks sake, my children.
Hehehe, still here. I am at work though, so communication for the next 40 minutes will be minimal.
*appears briefly*
She looked down at her arms, tuning over her hands and tightening them into fists to make sure everything was as it was supposed to be. Upon hearing the request to leave, Prism nodded and patted Sklog's shoulder, nodding before turning and walking away. Once she was out, she turned to her fellow Autobot and looked at him, sighing as she presented her problem to him.
"Turbulence." She said to him. "We need to talk." She hoped that Nightscream was not listening in. This was a problem that she did not want the scientist involved in, especially after having forced her to give up her experimental chassis to Sklog to save his life. She didn't want to be another reason that she had to do more for the team.
"This is getting out of hand and we need to stop it before it gets worse." She explained. "My memories, my personality. There's blank spots that I've just gotten over the ages. I think they're trying to come back." She couldn't very well explain it to him, but she did hope that he understood what she was talking about. All those loose bits of code that were floating around in her mind were somehow manifesting themselves into her original personality. "I wasn't always this charming, Turbulence. I've worked hard to shape up who I am, but I'm afraid that whatever I'm going to do next is going to cost us even more than a single chassis."
"Turbulence." She said to him. "We need to talk." She hoped that Nightscream was not listening in. This was a problem that she did not want the scientist involved in, especially after having forced her to give up her experimental chassis to Sklog to save his life. She didn't want to be another reason that she had to do more for the team.
"This is getting out of hand and we need to stop it before it gets worse." She explained. "My memories, my personality. There's blank spots that I've just gotten over the ages. I think they're trying to come back." She couldn't very well explain it to him, but she did hope that he understood what she was talking about. All those loose bits of code that were floating around in her mind were somehow manifesting themselves into her original personality. "I wasn't always this charming, Turbulence. I've worked hard to shape up who I am, but I'm afraid that whatever I'm going to do next is going to cost us even more than a single chassis."
Alright!
-wants to post
-really would like others to post first.
-really would like others to post first.
It was strange, almost unnatural. Her eyes played the scene she had just lived through. Though it was still from her point of view, she could see her horrid smirk, hear her cold, yet apologetic words as if they were not her own. She then played the memory of her standing before the door with her suicide bomb primed and ready in her hands. She remembered replying to turbulence, once again in a voice that she didn't register as her own. They were her words, but not her voice.
She was quiet as she gazed into the endless expanse of the floor beneath them. It wasn't her, she reminded herself. She tried playing those memories again, and they were the same, but she noticed another difference. Something about them was wrong. Something about them wasn't her.
What had these ages of being cooped up in Iacon really done to her?
She was quiet as she gazed into the endless expanse of the floor beneath them. It wasn't her, she reminded herself. She tried playing those memories again, and they were the same, but she noticed another difference. Something about them was wrong. Something about them wasn't her.
What had these ages of being cooped up in Iacon really done to her?
teeny tiny glimpse into Prism's confines, courtesy of her less than fully functional mind and memory.
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