Parasite
Let's play a little game, shall we? This is a quick picture I drew some days ago, I thought maybe you guys would like to drabble something based on this picture. You can just write something in the comments with anything this picture makes you think is going on. :) If you want, that is!
( I told her things I didn't want to say. I need her and I hope she'll understand. Parasite Lady, Parasite Eyes. No need to cry. )
( I told her things I didn't want to say. I need her and I hope she'll understand. Parasite Lady, Parasite Eyes. No need to cry. )
Slow, like a predator. Cold, like shards of ice. Hollow, like his spark casing.
It was spreading, and there wasn't a thing in the world he could do about it.
Prowl could feel the rage inside him, storming like an Earth thundercloud about to break. But not even that rage created an spark of warmth in the hollow cold he felt. All he felt was the cold loneliness, the bitter taste of sorrow.
Megatron was dead. The war was over. Earth was their new home.
But none of it mattered, not to Prowl. The one thing that kept the coldness at bay was gone, and he found it hard to remember everyday what the warmth had felt like.
He found it hard to remember what the happiness had looked like as it lit up his visor. All he could remember now was the pitying looks, the low murmurs, and the cold, dark visor that greeted him on Earth.
Prowl wanted to scream to his sorrow to the skies. He wanted to scream his rage, his bitterness, his disappointment-
-But he couldn't. Because all he felt was cold.
There was no Jazz to warm his spark anymore.
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:/ ...This came to mind first. It's not exactly a good drabble, but it was written quickly. Kudos for the awesome pic, though. :)
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