"She had yet to find the beauty that others saw in her appearance.
She only saw her scars and bruises, while they saw her light."

The Browdy Household held three bodies within it.

Lethe Rosier, the foster girl that had only just managed to be fostered before the adults back at the orphanage sent her away from her home town to some big city where they would have way more funding to house the orphan.

And the girl's foster parents, Kathrine and Harrison Browdy. The couple were complete opposites, yet somehow they managed to make their marriage work.

Harrison could almost pass off as being a modern-day Loki while his wife, Kathrine, was a golden "housewife".

Lethe liked them, well as much as one could like almost complete strangers who had taken her in.

"Lethe?" Harrison's voice came from the hallway behind the girl's door, "Dinner's ready!"

Said girl was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling with headphones blasting music into her ears.

"Lethe?" Harrison opened the girl's door and hid a wince at how empty the room seemed. Harrison and Kathrine had told the girl many times over and over to personalize the room if she wanted, each time she just nodded silently, but she never ended up doing anything to it.

The lilac purple walls were as perfect as the day they were painted, the desk that the married couple had put in the room for the teenager held a couple of school books and had her school bag hanging off the back of the chair while the closet held all of Lethe Rosier's clothes, the little amount she had. A lamp on a wooden bedside table stood rigid next to the square, black alarm clock.

Harrison sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to the girl lying on her bed.

Lethe instantly tore her headphones out and sat up on her bed when she finally realized that her foster parent was in the room, "Hey, Harrison," She managed, "Sorry my music was a little loud."

Harrison sighed yet again, "Dinner's ready," he repeated again.

The teenager nodded, "Thanks, I'll be out soon."

The man nodded and left the room.

Lethe groaned as she wiped her hand over her forehead, her eyes narrowing as she tried to remember what she had been doing only a few minutes ago, "What the frag," she groaned as she let her head fall into her hands, a sudden massive headache attacked her mind.

Lethe groaned as she stood up, her body cracking as she did, "Oph," Lethe muttered and left the safety of the room to join her foster parents for a dinner that would once again be a conversation between the two adults as she kept her vocal cords silent.

She didn't notice the way her birthmark warmed up on her skin for a split second as somewhere else on this planet a Cybertronian watched his friends with split emotions.

🔮

Lethe had found the perfect word that suited her. She had(or was, whatever way you wanted to look at it) "Hiraeth", in which was a Welsh concept of longing for home. 'Hiraeth' is a word which cannot be completely translated, meaning more than solely "missing something" or "missing home.

Which was stupid and weird because the only "home" Lethe had was with her two best friends.

Something that had always stumped the adults that entered and exited Lethe's life, was the fact that the Rosier seemingly appeared out of nowhere with just her birth certificate with two birth parents names that didn't belong to a single soul on this planet.

It was always apart of Lethe's strange history, the puzzle that would never be solved. Not if Primus had his way.

Currently, (we're stepping out of the past now, folks), Lethe was drawing.

Whoa! Wait, *flashback to Lethe's art class*, doesn't Lethe hate drawing?

Nope, Lethe's actually a rather decent artist... when she wants to be. She just doesn't understand how her fellow peers could be so determined to make the teacher proud.

The foster girl's eyes were focused as she drew from memory, the light blue azure colour fogging over as she got lost in the remembrance.

Lethe hadn't noticed the small smile that tugged at her lips as she shaded the cybermetal of his faceplates.

Her eyes twinkled as his magenta optics on the drawing were filled with softness as he looked at the viewpoint that Lethe was drawing from.

The Rosier girl paused, her eyes, despite being filled with an unreadable emotion were confused, "Who are you?" She asked the drawing as if it would answer her.

She sighed, dropping her pencil onto her desk and scrunching up the picture, "Whatever," Lethe muttered, chucking the paper with the drawing into a drawer of the desk and shutting it firmly.

The girl then lay down on her bed and stuck headphones in, blasting away whatever these confusing emotions with soundwaves.

🔮

Quickstorm kept her helm down, attempting to avoid being spotted by the Iacon guards.

Her odd optics would obviously give her tier away, and she really didn't want to be escorted out of the High Tier part of Iacon.

Quickstorm quickly glanced around, not noticing anybot who would rat her out, she "calmly" rushed over to the doorway of the building she was supposed to have been at earlier.

"I'm sorry," Quickstorm called out after she shut the door, "Sorry, I'm late."

A mech came out of another room, wiping his servos on each other, "'bout time," he huffed.

Quickstorm gave him a sheepish smile, "Sorry, again, Trident."

Trident rolled his blue optics, "Whatever, come on," he gestured to the room he had just exited.

Quickstorm nodded, "Coming."

Trident grunted, "Hurry up," he grumbled, the grounder going back to the room.

The young femme hesitated for a second, her doorwings twitching nervously which was the only thing that gave away the feelings that she felt at that moment.

"Well? The computers won't be waiting all day for you," Trident called out to her.

Quickstorm giggled as she followed after her mentor, "Coming."

Here's Chapter Three.

"The girl then lay down on her bed and stuck headphones in, blasting away whatever these confusing emotions with soundwaves."
Oh, how ironic....

Hope you enjoyed!
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