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Description
Illustration for Transformers DSR Chapter 10. After suffering a neural crash (and a really bad episode with the Virus) Rusti comforts her grieving friend. Color Pencil

...she watched as a silent gleam washed from the top portion of his optic and silently bled across his old factory, over his face plate.
“What have I done? Is Roddi . . . is Rodimus . . . I did something but I can’t remember.”
Rusti glanced across the room where Roddi now rested, his body pinned by braces and straps to keep him from moving while a fluid line slowly replenished what he lost in the fight.
Rusti heard the Siren pass on from First Aid that Roddi had torn his shoulder further by lying on it. She gazed back to her love. “You know Roddi. He’s feisty. He’ll stay alive just to make sure he can find another way to annoy you.” she watched as more silken fluid streamed over Optimus’ face. She realized now it was a tear. She stripped her shirt and blotted the trail dry.
“I can’t remember, Rusti. I know there was an argument. I didn’t want to argue. But . . . but it was like sliding down someone’s throat. I felt suffocated.”
She tried to wring her shirt out but the fluid was an odd mixture of oils and water; it did not wring well. “I was not told anything, My Love. They said nothing. But then . . . they don’t know about us. So, I get nothing.”
Another tear cascaded across his face. Rusti wiped it, too, then kissed the edge of his faceplate. “I wish I could save you.” she said sadly. “How could I possibly save you when I don’t know where to begin?”

Description
Illustration for Transformers DSR Chapter 10. After suffering a neural crash (and a really bad episode with the Virus) Rusti comforts her grieving friend. Color Pencil

...she watched as a silent gleam washed from the top portion of his optic and silently bled across his old factory, over his face plate.
“What have I done? Is Roddi . . . is Rodimus . . . I did something but I can’t remember.”
Rusti glanced across the room where Roddi now rested, his body pinned by braces and straps to keep him from moving while a fluid line slowly replenished what he lost in the fight.
Rusti heard the Siren pass on from First Aid that Roddi had torn his shoulder further by lying on it. She gazed back to her love. “You know Roddi. He’s feisty. He’ll stay alive just to make sure he can find another way to annoy you.” she watched as more silken fluid streamed over Optimus’ face. She realized now it was a tear. She stripped her shirt and blotted the trail dry.
“I can’t remember, Rusti. I know there was an argument. I didn’t want to argue. But . . . but it was like sliding down someone’s throat. I felt suffocated.”
She tried to wring her shirt out but the fluid was an odd mixture of oils and water; it did not wring well. “I was not told anything, My Love. They said nothing. But then . . . they don’t know about us. So, I get nothing.”
Another tear cascaded across his face. Rusti wiped it, too, then kissed the edge of his faceplate. “I wish I could save you.” she said sadly. “How could I possibly save you when I don’t know where to begin?”