"The first First wasn't actually the one we call that. That title actually belongs to someone who decided to head off planet and take a several centuries long vacation from humanity and was a different race than the First anyway. Makes you feel bad about the human race that its first intelligent creation got so fed up with his creator race that he ( Read more... )

"What's your name anyway?" Smokescreen asked, watching the medical mech as he puttered about his medical berth, "I don't think I was ever told it."

"My name," the medic said, pausing so he could lean in until he was olfactory sensor to olfactory sensor with Smokescreen, "is Medic."

Smokescreen blinked. "Medic the medic?"

"Going to make an issue ( Read more... )

Iroh was puzzled. When people called him the Dragon of the West, everyone knew they weren't being literal. Of course, the affronted and baffled look on his nephew's draconified face was just a bonus. On the other hand, seeing Toph as a gigantic badger mole sniffing the air was a... different experience. Eventually his attention landed on a small ( Read more... )

Ribbons Almark had admitted to perverting Schenberg's vision but Tieria hadn't even dared think that it could be this far reaching. Lockon was dead because of Ribbons.

Tieria missed the real Lockon instead of the echo who wore Lockon's face and name and simultaneously made it clear that he was not his brother. To Tieria there could only be one ( Read more... )

Traumatized was the only way to describe the newcomers.

They had lived their lives, died, and come to heaven, hoping to be met at pearly gates by pure, righteous angels. What they found were Reapers drunk off their asses, and the ones that weren’t drunk were extremely hung over.

It was enough to send some of them into fits, exclaiming that “This wasn ( Read more... )

“Hello, there,” Smokescreen smiled at the human, “Maggie right?”

“I am.”

“Smokescreen,” he said by way of introduction, “Got a klik?”

“…Sure,” the she replied.

Smokescreen sat down less than gracefully, and peered at the one who had been described as a data analyst… and a hacker. The second half was what interested him. “What makes a human a “hacker”?”

( Read more... )

Jazz watched as Smokescreen shuffled the numerous smooth chits effortlessly, a smug expression across a face oddly resembling his own.

“Prime?” the mech asked.

Jazz nodded and Smokescreen broke the shuffle, tossing the chits onto the small board that someone had dragged out.

Prowl counted the lay of each chit, announcing, “Four hundred forty-nine.”

“… ( Read more... )

Prowl watched the parade of unruly sparklings go by with a tinge of distaste. “Why would a mech ever decide to create sparklings?” Prowl wondered aloud once the sparklings’ harried caretaker had vanished around the corner after his gaggle.

Smokescreen shrugged, “Perhaps it fulfills a need to take care of a helpless being and see it become an adult? ( Read more... )

Smokescreen and Jazz circled each other in the confines of the clearing. The sun reflected off the cold, bright blanket formed from freshly fallen powder snow.

The two mechs gathered snow and at some unspoken signal, began flinging the bits of compacted snow at each other.

Prowl watched in exasperation as two of the mechs he cared about most jumped ( Read more... )

Smokescreen lay half across Prowl’s chest as he listened to the quiet humming of Jazz and Prowl’s systems during their recharge. Smokescreen wondered if it had really been tens of thousands of vorn previously that he had first known these two. In some ways, the time seemed to have passed in a moment, and others it seemed as though it had been tens ( Read more... )