Princess Oil Slick
Posted because I need to get stories posted, and my birthday is coming up next week, mang.
Also, I said I'd post the typewith. SOOOOOO.
http://typewith.me/clothingismodest
Words: I don't know how many words. whatever. It is more than enough, don't you sass me.
Queen Glitterfrost was the most beautiful femme in all the lands. She had armor as shining frost-white as the snow-capped peaks of the mountains, armor that glittered in the sunlight. She had curves that drove mechs to whimpering, and a kindess in her spark that complemented her bondmate's intensity and viciousness.
Queen Wildstar was almost Glitterfrost's opposite. Her armor was pitch-black, with golden sunbursts on it, to stop her from fading completely into the shadows like some nightmare creature. A femme's curves were present on her frame, but her armor was pointed and sharp where Glitterfrost's was rounded and smooth. Her claws had hooks in them, all the better for rending a mech piece by piece into scrap. But while she was rough with those in her kingdom, and far less inclined to selfless acts of kindness, she was still a very fair queen. Their subjects did not chafe under her rule, and they appreciated her willingness to go to war for them.
In the kingdom of Haydon IV-there was a joke there, about the three Haydons that had come before, but no mech who wished to keep his optics made it in front of the queens, as it was rather lewd and obscene-only femmes could inherit the throne. They were, the people believed, after viewing those kingdoms where mechs had been given control, the best option for leadership.
Wildstar and Glitterfrost's family lines had both bred true for many generations, as long as either could recount from the history pads. They had always given birth to femme sparklings, and any mechs came third or fourth in line, if at all.
When Glitterfrost had noticed the tiny blob of a sparkling on her spark, there had been much rejoicing in the kingdom, happy that their queens were finally having an heir to the throne.
They had been very careful, giving their sparkling as much energy and love as possible, refusing medical exams of her because of the superstition that an examined sparkling would become a mech. It was not much of a superstition, and an unwise one at that, but with the energy they were offering her, Wildstar did not force Glitterfrost to see a medic.
Perhaps they should have.
Glitterfrost lay on the medical berth, blissed out on the chemical cocktail they had given her to prevent her spark from feeling any pains as they extracted the sparkling from her sparkchamber. Wildstar linked servos with her, giving her what support she could as their little sparkling was brought into the world.
Her first act was crying out with dismay at the separation, and Wildstar smiles. It is a good sign when your daughter has such strong vocals so very young.
The medicbot was also a femme, as was traditional, and she carefully examined the sparkling for any defects, finally pushing open her tiny sparkplates to examine her sparkhealth.
When the medicbot froze in place, Wildstar could feel her spark shrinking with terror. "What?" she demands.
The medicbot vents, "I am so terribly sorry to tell you this, my queens, but-"
"Is . . is my sparkling okay?" Glitterfrost asks, worry penetrating her drugged haze.
"Yes. Your sparkling is very healthy. A very healthy mech."
They look at each other in terror, and Wildstar takes charge, as she is very used to doing, and makes a decision that has long reaching concequences. "Femme. She is a femme."
The medic gives her a nervous look, "But, your majesty, he wo-"
Wildstar raises a servo, aware that the mechs in both of their lines normally did not act like a femme at all - the perfect mechs, really. Soft spoken and submissive. "She will be raised correctly. She may know what she really is, but we keep it silent and hidden. She will be bonded to another femme so that the line may continue in the proper way."
Glitterfrost takes her love's servo, sqeezing it tightly, "We should try raising her like a proper femme first. To see if she takes to it."
"Yes, my light," Wildstar promises her, lifting their servos to kiss Glitterfrost's claws. Rumor had it that Wildstar had been completely black-armored until she had met Glitterfrost, and then love had made the golden bursts of light appear on her. It was only rumor. Wildstar had been onlined with her armor that way, but it did no harm to let the people have their legends. "She will take after you, I hope."
Glitterfrost takes their sparkling from the medic's servos and cradles him against her chest. "She has your colors more than mine. Let us hope she will be a very strong femme." The tiny mech looks up at her with wide, green optics, and lets out a little curious noise, pressing his tiny little servos against her chest. "I think she's hungry. Get me the sparkling energon." She offers him a claw to suck on, and he whines when it doesn't give him any fuel. "She's so tiny. So dark-armored. Can we call her Oil Slick?"
Wildstar presses a kiss to Glitterfrost's then the sparkling's head, "Yes. Oil Slick is a wonderful name for our little princess."
-
Oil Slick always felt very uncomfortable in her armor, she didn't feel right and she doesn't know why. She's felt this way for a very long time. Ever since she was old enough to think about how it felt wrong, really. It is like something in her armor that makes her want to peel it off and scratch until it is gone. But she's finally going to ask what is wrong.
She moves into the medical bay, looking up at the medic that has been taking care of her problems for as long as she can remember and asks, "Red Alert? What is wrong with me?"
The medic looks down at her in amusement, "I don't know. What's wrong with you?" She's picked up and set on the medical berth, "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, looking down at the ground, "No. I just... I feel wrong."
Red Alert hums softly, claws gentle on Oil Slick's frame, "Is the new mode we put you in giving you trouble? You look so much prettier in it, but if it feels wrong, we should change you back."
"No." Oil Slick twitches her hip panels away from Red Alert's claws. "I like it." She really likes her shoulder decoration, with its pretty curly horns and the big pink bow on it. "But I'm wrong." She wiggles as Red Alert prods at her hip panels, trying to twitch them out of the way again.
"'Wrong' doesn't help me very much, sparkling. Do you want to tell me what part of you feels wrong?"
She wiggles on the medical berth, trying to find the right words for her feelings of wrongness. "All of me. I . . I feel like I don't fit in my armor."
Red Alert frowns at her, "That sounds like you're having troubles with the new mode. I'm going to ha-"
Oil Slick pulls away from the touch to her seams, "No!" She crosses her arms, holding herself tightly, "Always felt wrong!"
The medic gives her a confused look, "How do you feel wrong? What's the problem?"
She wishes she knew how to say it, but she doesn't know the words or how to explain. All she knows is that she isn't right. Something is wrong, and she doesn't know how. She's wrong, and nothing is right.
She kicks her peds petulantly, angry that she doesn't know how to explain it. Red Alert watches her for a klik, and then sighs. "I think I may know what is wrong, sweetspark. I should com your creators first. You'll want them here."
One of the first things Oil Slick had learned as a sparkling was to not run into the throne room or com her creators if they were busy with meetings. "Okay." She kicks her peds again, waiting while Red Alert calls her creators and says something to them about how it has 'finally happened.' She wonders what 'it' is. And why Red Alert won't tell her without her creators.
When they show up, she's pulled into their laps, and Glitterfrost rocks her back and forth, "I'm so sorry, sparkling. We were hoping you'd be one of the ones that didn't mind."
She's really confused now, unsure what to say. Red Alert crosses her arms, ped tapping on the floor, "Oil Slick doesn't know exactly, but insists that she's 'wrong' somehow. That is a classic symptom for her gender identity disorder because of what you've insisted on."
Oil Slick squirms in her creators' arms, trying to move away as politely as she can, just like she'd been trained. "Gen-der iden-ti-ty dis-order?" she asks, sounding it out, and wondering what it means.
"We're sorry, sparkling," Glitterfrost coos at her, holding her tightly, "but we had to do it. We were going to wait until you were older to tell you."
Oil Slick squirms harder, trying to see anything other than Glitterstar's chest armor. "Mama, what do you mean?" She plants her servos flat against Glitterstar's armor and pushes away. "Tell me what?"
Wildstar kneels down to look her in the optics. "When you were onlined, they told us you had a mech's spark. Mechs cannot inherit the throne, sweetspark. We want you to take over when we're gone."
Oil Slick feels her optics prickling with lubricants, "You're going away?"
She's pulled into a tighter hug by both of her creators, and rocked even more. She really wishes they'd let her go, it is getting a little hard to vent since they have several covered. Glitterfrost exclaims, "No! No, sparkling, no! Not at all. We're going to be with you as long as we can. You don't need to worry about that."
She manages to wriggle out of their arms, "I'm a mech?" Something about that feels right, but she still feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with it. She's been a femme for as long as she remembers, and her mamas want her to be one. What if they don't love her anymore because of this? She doesn't want them to hate her because she couldn't be what they want her to be.
She can feel her face get wet with optical lubricants, and she tries to wipe them away without her creators seeing. Wildstar notices, and pulls out a polishing cloth to clean her face. "Yes, sweetspark, you're a mech. A mech that we love very much, but you can't let anyone know."
Oil Slick doesn't understand, "Wh-why? Why am I a mech? Why can't I tell anyone?" She twitches her hip panels, "Why do I l-look like a femme?"
Glitterfrost pets her frame, soothing her with her warm, gentle touches. "We modded you, sweetspark, so you would look more like a femme. We didn't have to mod very much, because your frame was already very femme-like."
She looks down at her servos, her claws aren't like a normal femme's at all, but she never thought about it. She'd always thought that she got them from her mama Wildstar, but now that she knows, she realizes they are mech claws. She knows how true it is, and something in her spark rejoices at the knowledge. Wrapping her arms around herself, she asks softly, "Do I have to keep it a secret?" She knows she can, but she... he wants nothing more than to shout it to everyone that he knows what he is.
He's tugged into Mama Wildstar's lap, and Glitterfrost pets him more, "You do, sparkling. I'm sorry, but it will keep you safe. We're going to be stepping up your training on how to act properly because of this."
Oil Slick whines. He hates lessons on proper behavior, because it always is boring and awful and now he wants to play the part of the mech. At least now he knows why his mamas have always told him that he would bond with a femme. When he's older, he'll be able to act like a mech in private.
He still doesn't want to have to take more lessons.
Countless failed lessons later, his creators have decided to allow Oil Slick to play the somewhat unusual role of a demure, shy femme. He's much better suited for it, because he has never gotten the hang of ordering mechs around.
So he's allowed to hide behind his Mamas' legs when they rise to greet the monarchs from the foreign land.
They're both mechs, and Oil Slick stares at them around Mama Glitterfrost's armor, as Mama Wildstar greets them, "Welcome to Haydon IV, Steelbolt, Powerdrive. I was told that you brought your sparkling as well, the one you have done so well in hiding from the public optic. But I do not see him present."
Steelbolt, an imposing, steel-grey bot, smiles at them. "It has been a very long journey, and we wanted our Optimus to be safe. His appearance has been kept secret for a reason you will soon realize."
Powedrive pulls out a tiny box and flips a switch on it, and the device hums as it powers down. Then Oil Slick's optics widen and his mamas gasp as a cloaking shield is dropped and the little sparkling mech revealed to them.
He's all transparent and shiny.
Oil Slick's mamas gently push him out from behind them to greet the other sparkling, "Go say hello, sweetspark." They return their focus to Optimus's creators, and Oil Slick wonders if he can just run for it.
He knows he can't, though. He's being watched and judged on how well he does this. He holds out his servo, seeing if the mech has been trained how to respond to it, and Optimus takes it and kisses it. He can hear his creators saying something about a crystal mech, but all he can tell about Optimus is that the bot has his spark on display. He wishes his spark was being shown so bots knew he was a mech, but he has to keep it hidden.
He murmurs to the other sparkling softly, "Hello, Optimus. It is nice to meet you."
Optimus beams at him, pretty clear-blue lips spread into a wide smile, "It is nice to meet you too, Oil Slick."
Oil Slick reaches out and gently touches Optimus's sparkplates, watching his spark pulse underneath the armor. "You have a pretty spark. I like it."
Optimus's faceplates heat up, and Oil Slick jerks away, embarrassed that he had said anything like that. "Thank you, Oil Slick. That's very nice."
The cyclebot shifts on his peds until Steelbolt says, "Come over here, Optimus. Glitterfrost and Wildstar want to see you." The other sparkling walks over to the throne, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to flee, and he runs out of the room the moment their attention is off of him, fleeing into the crystal garden maze.
He knows he might get in trouble for doing this, but he really hates being in the throne room. It is too big, too filled with bots staring at him, too everything. He can't be in there for too long. He's just glad that since they stopped training him up to be a proper femme, this sort of behavior is encouraged. Hiding is very becoming for a young princess when he doesn't want to be seen. He was presented formally, so he's allowed to be nowhere near them when they stop looking.
It is part of his training that he's getting from his ninjabot tutor. How to disappear in plain sight and to be more comfortable in his modded frame. He still isn't used to how they replaced his faceplates to something more suitable. He misses his nose, but it was getting too large and brings question on if he's a femme or not. He can't wait for him to leave the planet to be himself.
He will still present himself as a femme in public when he's on the planet his bonded is on, but he can act more like a mech in private. He hopes the femme he's given to loves him, the idea of being in a loveless bonding hurts his spark. He wants a bonded that knows how to take care of him. He'll be so much happier then.
Oil Slick settles down in front of a mass of crystals that glow brilliantly when bots are near them. They were often used as sentry crystals, placed around the entrances to a home, to alert bots when an intruder was trying to enter. Now they're just pretty crystals he likes to curl up against because they're warm.
Light pulses all around him, and Oil Slick pulls out a datapad to read, full of his favorite sparkling stories, with words that aren't too complicated for him to understand. He likes understanding what he reads.
He's interrupted a little bit later by the crystals brightening alarmingly. So bright, they hurt his optics. He dims his receptors, and rubs at his optics to get rid of the pain. There's a sound of tiny peds on the ground, loud crunching on the special gravel set out to let them know even ninjabots are here.
"H-hello?" comes a soft call that sounds like the see-through sparkling. He can't really tell, since his optics are still hurting, and it is hard to tell when he's against the crystal. "I was told to go play with you, Princess."
He stands up, putting the datapad in his tiny subspace, and walks towards the sound. He ends up walking into the bot, since the light is really far too bright to let him turn up his optics, "Then let's move to a different place. The alarm light crystal is doing something is sho-"
The other sparkling interrupts him, "They do that around me. We had to remove ours because of it."
"Oh." He pulls the sparkling away from the crystal, even though his instincts are telling him not to be so demanding. He doesn't want the bright light anymore, and if he has to pull the sparkling, he will. "Over here." He shows Optimus a place made of tall, rounded crystals, which Oil Slick likes to climb on. "These ones don't light up." Oil Slick has often wondered if his vocal processor has been modded too, because his vocal range is normal for femmes. His creators say that they haven't modded it at all.
Optimus keeps hold of his servo when they are there, and he wants to pull away, but doesn't since he kind of likes being tugged along. "Do you have any red cora crystal? I like being in those."
He lets himself be pulled a little closer, and shakes his head, "No. You shouldn't be in it, either. Older bots can't go near it, and if you get hurt you wouldn't be able to be safe." He was shown what a tiny little piece of it in a bot's energon does. That mech was writhing on the floor for a very long time, begging to be allowed to open his plates when his mamas had Oil Slick in their laps to explain what was going on. They said the mech wasn't hurt, but it still made a very large impression on him. He's never going to hide in the red cora.
Red cora does terrible things to adult bots. Terrible things.
So he stays away.
Oil Slick sits on the rounded crystals which the gardenerbots have been kind enough to reshape so he can perch on them the way he likes. Optimus sits beside him, fingers still laced with his claws, and he's very careful not to scratch the bot. He doesn't know how fragile his armor is.
"Do you get hurt easily?" he asks, wondering if the bot has to be very careful when he plays.
Optimus shakes his head, "No. I'm Allspark-blessed. My armor is hard enough that I get dented like normal sparklings do."
He nods, unsure what else to do. He isn't allowed to get dirty as he plays, but he knows that other sparklings seem to relish being as dirty as possible. He doesn't want to have his armor all scratched up, even if he loves his nightly solvent bath coming a little early. He pulls out his datapad again, "Want to read with me?" He hopes Optimus can read. One of the other sparklings that was brought for him to play with wasn't able to. She seemed to take a great amount of joy in shoving him around and loudly declaring how stupid reading was.
He didn't mind the shoving so much, but he disliked being told he shouldn't read.
Optimus looks at the datapad with interest, "What stories do you have?"
"A lot of them." Most of them about femmes saving the sol, or rescuing mechs in distress. He likes to imagine himself as the mech sometimes, with some pretty mystery femme saving him and then declaring to the entire world that he was her mech and she wasn't ashamed that he was a mech. "Do you have any favorites?"
Optimus scrolls through the stories and frowns, "I don't know most of these. Most of the ones I get told are about the Allspark and the High Priestess."
He leans on the other sparkling, "Would you like to read them with me?"
Optimus puts a arm around his waist, and he snuggles close, liking how warm the bot is. Most sparklings aren't nearly as warm as Optimus is, but he guesses that's because Optimus is Allspark blessed. "That'd be nice. What is your favorite?"
He isn't allowed to show off his very favorite, since it is one he modified to have the mech princess saved by the dashing and pretty femme from the monster of the story, but he can do one of the ones about a femme saving the sol.
"Once upon a time, there was a very pretty mech who lived in a very pretty castle," Oil Slick begins, and Optimus cuddles against him as he continues. He likes the bot so far, even if Optimus thinks he's a femme.
and at the end like I said on the chapter. :V
http://typewith.me/clothingismodest
Also, I said I'd post the typewith. SOOOOOO.
http://typewith.me/clothingismodest
Words: I don't know how many words. whatever. It is more than enough, don't you sass me.
Queen Glitterfrost was the most beautiful femme in all the lands. She had armor as shining frost-white as the snow-capped peaks of the mountains, armor that glittered in the sunlight. She had curves that drove mechs to whimpering, and a kindess in her spark that complemented her bondmate's intensity and viciousness.
Queen Wildstar was almost Glitterfrost's opposite. Her armor was pitch-black, with golden sunbursts on it, to stop her from fading completely into the shadows like some nightmare creature. A femme's curves were present on her frame, but her armor was pointed and sharp where Glitterfrost's was rounded and smooth. Her claws had hooks in them, all the better for rending a mech piece by piece into scrap. But while she was rough with those in her kingdom, and far less inclined to selfless acts of kindness, she was still a very fair queen. Their subjects did not chafe under her rule, and they appreciated her willingness to go to war for them.
In the kingdom of Haydon IV-there was a joke there, about the three Haydons that had come before, but no mech who wished to keep his optics made it in front of the queens, as it was rather lewd and obscene-only femmes could inherit the throne. They were, the people believed, after viewing those kingdoms where mechs had been given control, the best option for leadership.
Wildstar and Glitterfrost's family lines had both bred true for many generations, as long as either could recount from the history pads. They had always given birth to femme sparklings, and any mechs came third or fourth in line, if at all.
When Glitterfrost had noticed the tiny blob of a sparkling on her spark, there had been much rejoicing in the kingdom, happy that their queens were finally having an heir to the throne.
They had been very careful, giving their sparkling as much energy and love as possible, refusing medical exams of her because of the superstition that an examined sparkling would become a mech. It was not much of a superstition, and an unwise one at that, but with the energy they were offering her, Wildstar did not force Glitterfrost to see a medic.
Perhaps they should have.
Glitterfrost lay on the medical berth, blissed out on the chemical cocktail they had given her to prevent her spark from feeling any pains as they extracted the sparkling from her sparkchamber. Wildstar linked servos with her, giving her what support she could as their little sparkling was brought into the world.
Her first act was crying out with dismay at the separation, and Wildstar smiles. It is a good sign when your daughter has such strong vocals so very young.
The medicbot was also a femme, as was traditional, and she carefully examined the sparkling for any defects, finally pushing open her tiny sparkplates to examine her sparkhealth.
When the medicbot froze in place, Wildstar could feel her spark shrinking with terror. "What?" she demands.
The medicbot vents, "I am so terribly sorry to tell you this, my queens, but-"
"Is . . is my sparkling okay?" Glitterfrost asks, worry penetrating her drugged haze.
"Yes. Your sparkling is very healthy. A very healthy mech."
They look at each other in terror, and Wildstar takes charge, as she is very used to doing, and makes a decision that has long reaching concequences. "Femme. She is a femme."
The medic gives her a nervous look, "But, your majesty, he wo-"
Wildstar raises a servo, aware that the mechs in both of their lines normally did not act like a femme at all - the perfect mechs, really. Soft spoken and submissive. "She will be raised correctly. She may know what she really is, but we keep it silent and hidden. She will be bonded to another femme so that the line may continue in the proper way."
Glitterfrost takes her love's servo, sqeezing it tightly, "We should try raising her like a proper femme first. To see if she takes to it."
"Yes, my light," Wildstar promises her, lifting their servos to kiss Glitterfrost's claws. Rumor had it that Wildstar had been completely black-armored until she had met Glitterfrost, and then love had made the golden bursts of light appear on her. It was only rumor. Wildstar had been onlined with her armor that way, but it did no harm to let the people have their legends. "She will take after you, I hope."
Glitterfrost takes their sparkling from the medic's servos and cradles him against her chest. "She has your colors more than mine. Let us hope she will be a very strong femme." The tiny mech looks up at her with wide, green optics, and lets out a little curious noise, pressing his tiny little servos against her chest. "I think she's hungry. Get me the sparkling energon." She offers him a claw to suck on, and he whines when it doesn't give him any fuel. "She's so tiny. So dark-armored. Can we call her Oil Slick?"
Wildstar presses a kiss to Glitterfrost's then the sparkling's head, "Yes. Oil Slick is a wonderful name for our little princess."
-
Oil Slick always felt very uncomfortable in her armor, she didn't feel right and she doesn't know why. She's felt this way for a very long time. Ever since she was old enough to think about how it felt wrong, really. It is like something in her armor that makes her want to peel it off and scratch until it is gone. But she's finally going to ask what is wrong.
She moves into the medical bay, looking up at the medic that has been taking care of her problems for as long as she can remember and asks, "Red Alert? What is wrong with me?"
The medic looks down at her in amusement, "I don't know. What's wrong with you?" She's picked up and set on the medical berth, "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, looking down at the ground, "No. I just... I feel wrong."
Red Alert hums softly, claws gentle on Oil Slick's frame, "Is the new mode we put you in giving you trouble? You look so much prettier in it, but if it feels wrong, we should change you back."
"No." Oil Slick twitches her hip panels away from Red Alert's claws. "I like it." She really likes her shoulder decoration, with its pretty curly horns and the big pink bow on it. "But I'm wrong." She wiggles as Red Alert prods at her hip panels, trying to twitch them out of the way again.
"'Wrong' doesn't help me very much, sparkling. Do you want to tell me what part of you feels wrong?"
She wiggles on the medical berth, trying to find the right words for her feelings of wrongness. "All of me. I . . I feel like I don't fit in my armor."
Red Alert frowns at her, "That sounds like you're having troubles with the new mode. I'm going to ha-"
Oil Slick pulls away from the touch to her seams, "No!" She crosses her arms, holding herself tightly, "Always felt wrong!"
The medic gives her a confused look, "How do you feel wrong? What's the problem?"
She wishes she knew how to say it, but she doesn't know the words or how to explain. All she knows is that she isn't right. Something is wrong, and she doesn't know how. She's wrong, and nothing is right.
She kicks her peds petulantly, angry that she doesn't know how to explain it. Red Alert watches her for a klik, and then sighs. "I think I may know what is wrong, sweetspark. I should com your creators first. You'll want them here."
One of the first things Oil Slick had learned as a sparkling was to not run into the throne room or com her creators if they were busy with meetings. "Okay." She kicks her peds again, waiting while Red Alert calls her creators and says something to them about how it has 'finally happened.' She wonders what 'it' is. And why Red Alert won't tell her without her creators.
When they show up, she's pulled into their laps, and Glitterfrost rocks her back and forth, "I'm so sorry, sparkling. We were hoping you'd be one of the ones that didn't mind."
She's really confused now, unsure what to say. Red Alert crosses her arms, ped tapping on the floor, "Oil Slick doesn't know exactly, but insists that she's 'wrong' somehow. That is a classic symptom for her gender identity disorder because of what you've insisted on."
Oil Slick squirms in her creators' arms, trying to move away as politely as she can, just like she'd been trained. "Gen-der iden-ti-ty dis-order?" she asks, sounding it out, and wondering what it means.
"We're sorry, sparkling," Glitterfrost coos at her, holding her tightly, "but we had to do it. We were going to wait until you were older to tell you."
Oil Slick squirms harder, trying to see anything other than Glitterstar's chest armor. "Mama, what do you mean?" She plants her servos flat against Glitterstar's armor and pushes away. "Tell me what?"
Wildstar kneels down to look her in the optics. "When you were onlined, they told us you had a mech's spark. Mechs cannot inherit the throne, sweetspark. We want you to take over when we're gone."
Oil Slick feels her optics prickling with lubricants, "You're going away?"
She's pulled into a tighter hug by both of her creators, and rocked even more. She really wishes they'd let her go, it is getting a little hard to vent since they have several covered. Glitterfrost exclaims, "No! No, sparkling, no! Not at all. We're going to be with you as long as we can. You don't need to worry about that."
She manages to wriggle out of their arms, "I'm a mech?" Something about that feels right, but she still feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with it. She's been a femme for as long as she remembers, and her mamas want her to be one. What if they don't love her anymore because of this? She doesn't want them to hate her because she couldn't be what they want her to be.
She can feel her face get wet with optical lubricants, and she tries to wipe them away without her creators seeing. Wildstar notices, and pulls out a polishing cloth to clean her face. "Yes, sweetspark, you're a mech. A mech that we love very much, but you can't let anyone know."
Oil Slick doesn't understand, "Wh-why? Why am I a mech? Why can't I tell anyone?" She twitches her hip panels, "Why do I l-look like a femme?"
Glitterfrost pets her frame, soothing her with her warm, gentle touches. "We modded you, sweetspark, so you would look more like a femme. We didn't have to mod very much, because your frame was already very femme-like."
She looks down at her servos, her claws aren't like a normal femme's at all, but she never thought about it. She'd always thought that she got them from her mama Wildstar, but now that she knows, she realizes they are mech claws. She knows how true it is, and something in her spark rejoices at the knowledge. Wrapping her arms around herself, she asks softly, "Do I have to keep it a secret?" She knows she can, but she... he wants nothing more than to shout it to everyone that he knows what he is.
He's tugged into Mama Wildstar's lap, and Glitterfrost pets him more, "You do, sparkling. I'm sorry, but it will keep you safe. We're going to be stepping up your training on how to act properly because of this."
Oil Slick whines. He hates lessons on proper behavior, because it always is boring and awful and now he wants to play the part of the mech. At least now he knows why his mamas have always told him that he would bond with a femme. When he's older, he'll be able to act like a mech in private.
He still doesn't want to have to take more lessons.
Countless failed lessons later, his creators have decided to allow Oil Slick to play the somewhat unusual role of a demure, shy femme. He's much better suited for it, because he has never gotten the hang of ordering mechs around.
So he's allowed to hide behind his Mamas' legs when they rise to greet the monarchs from the foreign land.
They're both mechs, and Oil Slick stares at them around Mama Glitterfrost's armor, as Mama Wildstar greets them, "Welcome to Haydon IV, Steelbolt, Powerdrive. I was told that you brought your sparkling as well, the one you have done so well in hiding from the public optic. But I do not see him present."
Steelbolt, an imposing, steel-grey bot, smiles at them. "It has been a very long journey, and we wanted our Optimus to be safe. His appearance has been kept secret for a reason you will soon realize."
Powedrive pulls out a tiny box and flips a switch on it, and the device hums as it powers down. Then Oil Slick's optics widen and his mamas gasp as a cloaking shield is dropped and the little sparkling mech revealed to them.
He's all transparent and shiny.
Oil Slick's mamas gently push him out from behind them to greet the other sparkling, "Go say hello, sweetspark." They return their focus to Optimus's creators, and Oil Slick wonders if he can just run for it.
He knows he can't, though. He's being watched and judged on how well he does this. He holds out his servo, seeing if the mech has been trained how to respond to it, and Optimus takes it and kisses it. He can hear his creators saying something about a crystal mech, but all he can tell about Optimus is that the bot has his spark on display. He wishes his spark was being shown so bots knew he was a mech, but he has to keep it hidden.
He murmurs to the other sparkling softly, "Hello, Optimus. It is nice to meet you."
Optimus beams at him, pretty clear-blue lips spread into a wide smile, "It is nice to meet you too, Oil Slick."
Oil Slick reaches out and gently touches Optimus's sparkplates, watching his spark pulse underneath the armor. "You have a pretty spark. I like it."
Optimus's faceplates heat up, and Oil Slick jerks away, embarrassed that he had said anything like that. "Thank you, Oil Slick. That's very nice."
The cyclebot shifts on his peds until Steelbolt says, "Come over here, Optimus. Glitterfrost and Wildstar want to see you." The other sparkling walks over to the throne, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to flee, and he runs out of the room the moment their attention is off of him, fleeing into the crystal garden maze.
He knows he might get in trouble for doing this, but he really hates being in the throne room. It is too big, too filled with bots staring at him, too everything. He can't be in there for too long. He's just glad that since they stopped training him up to be a proper femme, this sort of behavior is encouraged. Hiding is very becoming for a young princess when he doesn't want to be seen. He was presented formally, so he's allowed to be nowhere near them when they stop looking.
It is part of his training that he's getting from his ninjabot tutor. How to disappear in plain sight and to be more comfortable in his modded frame. He still isn't used to how they replaced his faceplates to something more suitable. He misses his nose, but it was getting too large and brings question on if he's a femme or not. He can't wait for him to leave the planet to be himself.
He will still present himself as a femme in public when he's on the planet his bonded is on, but he can act more like a mech in private. He hopes the femme he's given to loves him, the idea of being in a loveless bonding hurts his spark. He wants a bonded that knows how to take care of him. He'll be so much happier then.
Oil Slick settles down in front of a mass of crystals that glow brilliantly when bots are near them. They were often used as sentry crystals, placed around the entrances to a home, to alert bots when an intruder was trying to enter. Now they're just pretty crystals he likes to curl up against because they're warm.
Light pulses all around him, and Oil Slick pulls out a datapad to read, full of his favorite sparkling stories, with words that aren't too complicated for him to understand. He likes understanding what he reads.
He's interrupted a little bit later by the crystals brightening alarmingly. So bright, they hurt his optics. He dims his receptors, and rubs at his optics to get rid of the pain. There's a sound of tiny peds on the ground, loud crunching on the special gravel set out to let them know even ninjabots are here.
"H-hello?" comes a soft call that sounds like the see-through sparkling. He can't really tell, since his optics are still hurting, and it is hard to tell when he's against the crystal. "I was told to go play with you, Princess."
He stands up, putting the datapad in his tiny subspace, and walks towards the sound. He ends up walking into the bot, since the light is really far too bright to let him turn up his optics, "Then let's move to a different place. The alarm light crystal is doing something is sho-"
The other sparkling interrupts him, "They do that around me. We had to remove ours because of it."
"Oh." He pulls the sparkling away from the crystal, even though his instincts are telling him not to be so demanding. He doesn't want the bright light anymore, and if he has to pull the sparkling, he will. "Over here." He shows Optimus a place made of tall, rounded crystals, which Oil Slick likes to climb on. "These ones don't light up." Oil Slick has often wondered if his vocal processor has been modded too, because his vocal range is normal for femmes. His creators say that they haven't modded it at all.
Optimus keeps hold of his servo when they are there, and he wants to pull away, but doesn't since he kind of likes being tugged along. "Do you have any red cora crystal? I like being in those."
He lets himself be pulled a little closer, and shakes his head, "No. You shouldn't be in it, either. Older bots can't go near it, and if you get hurt you wouldn't be able to be safe." He was shown what a tiny little piece of it in a bot's energon does. That mech was writhing on the floor for a very long time, begging to be allowed to open his plates when his mamas had Oil Slick in their laps to explain what was going on. They said the mech wasn't hurt, but it still made a very large impression on him. He's never going to hide in the red cora.
Red cora does terrible things to adult bots. Terrible things.
So he stays away.
Oil Slick sits on the rounded crystals which the gardenerbots have been kind enough to reshape so he can perch on them the way he likes. Optimus sits beside him, fingers still laced with his claws, and he's very careful not to scratch the bot. He doesn't know how fragile his armor is.
"Do you get hurt easily?" he asks, wondering if the bot has to be very careful when he plays.
Optimus shakes his head, "No. I'm Allspark-blessed. My armor is hard enough that I get dented like normal sparklings do."
He nods, unsure what else to do. He isn't allowed to get dirty as he plays, but he knows that other sparklings seem to relish being as dirty as possible. He doesn't want to have his armor all scratched up, even if he loves his nightly solvent bath coming a little early. He pulls out his datapad again, "Want to read with me?" He hopes Optimus can read. One of the other sparklings that was brought for him to play with wasn't able to. She seemed to take a great amount of joy in shoving him around and loudly declaring how stupid reading was.
He didn't mind the shoving so much, but he disliked being told he shouldn't read.
Optimus looks at the datapad with interest, "What stories do you have?"
"A lot of them." Most of them about femmes saving the sol, or rescuing mechs in distress. He likes to imagine himself as the mech sometimes, with some pretty mystery femme saving him and then declaring to the entire world that he was her mech and she wasn't ashamed that he was a mech. "Do you have any favorites?"
Optimus scrolls through the stories and frowns, "I don't know most of these. Most of the ones I get told are about the Allspark and the High Priestess."
He leans on the other sparkling, "Would you like to read them with me?"
Optimus puts a arm around his waist, and he snuggles close, liking how warm the bot is. Most sparklings aren't nearly as warm as Optimus is, but he guesses that's because Optimus is Allspark blessed. "That'd be nice. What is your favorite?"
He isn't allowed to show off his very favorite, since it is one he modified to have the mech princess saved by the dashing and pretty femme from the monster of the story, but he can do one of the ones about a femme saving the sol.
"Once upon a time, there was a very pretty mech who lived in a very pretty castle," Oil Slick begins, and Optimus cuddles against him as he continues. He likes the bot so far, even if Optimus thinks he's a femme.
and at the end like I said on the chapter. :V
http://typewith.me/clothingismodest