"Only the insane equate pain with success."
(Branching from here~)
TFA Swindle
"Cravings...interesting prompt. So many possible answers."
Perched on the edge of his berth as he stared down at the scientist that was currently knocked offline on the floor, Swindle absently twirled a laser scalpel in hand as he pondered the new prompt that had appeared in his messages ( Read more... )
TFA Swindle
"Cravings...interesting prompt. So many possible answers."
Perched on the edge of his berth as he stared down at the scientist that was currently knocked offline on the floor, Swindle absently twirled a laser scalpel in hand as he pondered the new prompt that had appeared in his messages ( Read more... )
Even without the trauma of being knocked unconscious, the drug would have obliterated any sensation of the passage of time. Not that it matters, anyway; Perceptor doesn't even remember having been in the hollow in the woods. He doesn't remember seeing Swindle today at all. One moment bleeds into the next with a casual disregard for the flow of time and memory. It's all the same...
Just the same, wondrous, floating nirvana.
Wonderland.
Wonderland is particularly wondrous right now, though, as the drip enhances the dose he'd taken already not so very long ago. It surges through his lines, permeating every mote of his being, nearly pulling him free from his frame to leave him suspended in the most all-encompasing exctasy he's ever felt.
Blue light filters hazily into the depths of his optics as they slowly power up to half intensity. It's dark here, but he doesn't even care. There's nothing worth caring about at the moment, except reaching for that pale purple glow above his head. He bats weakly at it, giggling to ( ... )
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The peddler had spent the majority of his wait watching his image-orb, the smirk gone as he just sat and replayed a few of the same images over and over again. It wasn't until he got an alert to an energy signature returning to normal levels that he set it aside in favor of crawling over to the edge of the berth to peer down at the scientist.
Aw..wasn't he just adorable?
"Enjoying yourself, Alice?" he mused with a Chesire sort of grin, optics gleaming. "You seem much happier now than you were."
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It dances! Perceptor watches the purple glow with rapt fascination as it shifts and moves and dances... and then finally resolves itself into a pair of optics staring down at him. "Ohhh.... Hello!"
His hands slips from the edge of the berth as he gives up trying to catch the damcing optics-not-lights, and he grins rather stupidly up at Swindle.
"I am?" he asks. "Was I... sad before?"
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"You were. I brought you here so you could be happy though. I don't like seeing others sad," he said with a sad expression on his face that was so fake it wasn't even funny...but Perceptor wouldn't know the difference.
"So I'm very glad to hear that you're happy~ Anything I can get you friend?"
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"Maybe..." he tailed off as he answered the question, knowing that Perceptor wasn't even paying attention anymore. The con chuckled softly and glanced at the IV drip, taking note of how much was left in that particular vial before looking back at his charge.
Primus, he was going to be like putty in this state.
In a very catlike movement--though not near as fluid considering he was a robot--Swindle slid off the berth and came around the scientist's side as he studied his hand, easing himself onto the other to straddle Perceptor's waist as his hands smoothed over the other mech's chestplating.
"Fascinating huh?" he mused as he lifted a hand just as he reached the others shoulders, catching the hand Perceptor had been studying so intently. "Makes you wonder how it really all works doesn't it?"
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"Glad to hear your share my intrigue. I mean, I can't personally say I've ever seen the inside of a bot's hand--" Lies, of course, but Perceptor wouldn't know the difference. "--and it really just makes you think."
He watched Perceptor as he traced his own palm, grin never fading as he slowly slipped his fingers between the scientist's to lace them together, holding his hand a bit more firmly now. Purposely shifting himself forward as he leaned in, their plating scrapping together yet again, Swindle's glossa flicked out against the others palm and the fingertip tracing it.
"I mean..all those senors and wiring, such a complex combination. Alas, I doubt I'll ever have the chance to see inside though," the con murmured with a slight pout, planting a kiss on that open palm now as he sideglanced at the scientist, waiting to see if he'd take the bait.
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Already on the verge of pulling a scalpel out of subspace, Perceptor doesn't really need much more coaxing. Swindle's little act, though, cements Perceptor's curiosity.
Swindle's weight shifts, the con's hips scraping against Perceptor's mirror assembly, wringing as moan from him as he arches up weakly under him. "Sh-show y-you..." he manages, shivering as that glossa traces over his palm, glances across his fingertip.
Hopefully for Swindle's sake, he's quick to get himself out of the way; Perceptor summons that scalpel out of subspace, actigating it with a shaky flick of his thumb, before setting the glowing tip to his palm and drawing a thin line there, laying the delicate plating back with an inarticulate moan as the drug kills all the pain signals, leaving behind nothing but purest, most effortless pleasure.
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As soon as he caught sight of the scalpel the con pulled back, his hand slipping away as he let Perceptor take the reigns. He watched with nothing but amusement as the scientist began to mutilate his hand, a shiver running through the peddler's frame as he shifted on top of the other mech again.
God did he love his job.
"Amazing," he purred, leaning in just a tiny bit as he pretended to study the new opening intently. He reached out with the hand that had been holding Perceptor's to brush his forearm in a not so absent manner, the touch fleeting, taunting as he rested it back against the others chestplate.
"Give me a better view?" That purr never left his voice as his optics flickered to Perceptor's face. "Please?"
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Nodding, optics flickering at the combined sensations singing across his systems, Perceptor shifts the scalpel, making two more relatively neat incisions to flap open almost his whole palm. Energon and coolant and lubricant ooze out, dripping down his wrist and spattering upon his chest plate as he stares, fascinated, at the complex xystem of cables and tiny struts and servos that make up his hand.
He doesn't stop there, though. Without any additional urging from Swindle, he turns the blade, scoring a wavering line up his index finger. His hands are trembling, though, his whole body shivering, really, with the sensations assaulting him, and the scalpel bites a little deeper than he'd intended as he lays open the finger from palm to tip. Damaged, one knuckle servo motor seizes up, and more fluids drip out upon Perceptor's chest; he doesn't even notice, though, as he turns his hand for Swindle to see, the scalpel resting on the palm joint of his next finger, ready to lay it open as well.
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This was just too easy.
"Well isn't that fascinating..?" he murmured, trembling with delight at what Perceptor had just done as he looks over the handy work. He hadn't expected the scientist to keep going but apparently the drug had a much better hold on him than Swindle had originally predicted.
Not that he was going to complain.
Reaching up to grasp Percpetor's wrist with one hand and pull the hand holding the scalpel away with the other, Swindle leaned in and flicked his glossa out to get a taste of the fluids seeping out of his captive's hand.
"You're so nice you know that? Showing me all of this," he murmured against Perceptor's palm somewhat, glancing at the scientist with a lazy grin. "Not many would be as nice as you." Another flick of his glossa.
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It should be agony, Swindle lapping at the fluids dripping from his mutilated hand. All those sensors laid bare to the open air, to Swindle's glossa, their mutitude of delicate relays severed and damaged. Without the drug, Perceptor would have been howling, begging to be set free.
With the drug, though, he is free.
Perceptor purrs, optic shutters drifting partially closed over their hazy glow. He hasn't even been aware of how his systems have been slowly generating heat until his ventilation fans kick on suddenly, startling him the briefest instant before he simply puts them out of mind. Not difficult to do, even if Swindle weren't teasing those hyper-sensitive nodes in his damaged hand, lips brushing against the bared tactile sensors, glossa laving away the fluids.
"Why n-n-n-not?" Perceptor pants shakily as he tips his head back with a deep moan, baring his throat to the con and shuddering from helm to pede under Swindle's frame.
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"Because. Most bots are just plain stubborn and don't like being nice. They think it's a weakness or something," he said with a slight shrug, very much talking about the majority of Decepticons but, hey, it was easy to fool someone into thinking otherwise. "It almost makes me sad to see the Autobot mark on you..you're so much better than that."
A predatory gleam flickered through his optics as that throat was bared to him, Swindle smirking as he guided Perceptor's arms down to fold them over the mech's chest so he could scoot forward a bit--slowly, taunting the other with the feel of plating on plating. He leaned over to brush his lips to the others neck, mouthing at it a bit as he maneuvered his hands so that the fingers of one could begin pressing into the openings Perceptor had made on his hand.
"Don't you want to be surrounded with nice bots?" he murmured, biting down softly.
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Even easier to fool someone as heavily drugged as Perceptor, generally trusting and a bit naive at the best of times, and little more than a lamb led to the slaughter as the drug sang through his lines.
More heat spikes through his relays, and he writhes resthlessly as Swindle inches forward. He whines needily as he feels those fingers press into the wounds on his hand, setting the sensors there on fire once again. Glorious liquid fire that seems to light up every relay in his body for a moment.
"L-like y-you?" he whimpers, hissing and gasping as Swindle's denta impinge upon the lines in his throat.
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A content purr escaped the peddler as Perceptor played right into his hands, his fingers delving in a bit deeper as he mouthed at those neck cables once more.
"Mmmhmmm, just like me. If you wanted, you could be just like me. Change over to the better side," he murmured, lifting his head a bit to look at the scientist's face, head tilting. "It wouldn't be hard. All we'd have to do is get rid of that nasty marking on you."
His fingers pressed and tapped in a rhythm only he was aware of, smoothing up the opened finger then back down to the palm once more, slipping beneath the folds to press at the portions that had yet to be exposed to him.
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