Six Speedwriting Stories... Again
Title: Retelling
Rating: K+
Continuity: G1?
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Ironhide, Optimus Prime
Disclaimer:
Prompt: 1. Task: Take a short fic you wrote and have one of the characters in that story having to tell that story to someone else. Who do they tell? How does that story go over? (For example, I wrote a little Whirl and Skids for last week-how would skids report this little adventure to, say, Ultra Magnus? How might whirl tell it to Swerve or Rung, etc).
Notes: Got two fics out of this one. And the credit for writing a “sequel” to this story goes to kkcliffy and Wildwhisker. They both requested it when I asked for help, so... here it is! And I also managed to clock out two stories for this one, though they sorta go together. Sorta.
(This is the "retelling" of "Training," my first speedwriting fill.)
“Oh, Primus, that was awesome,” the red mech snickered as he sat heavily at the table.
The gray mech already sitting there stifled a squeak of surprise as the heavy frame landed. Then did so again, as another frame, identical in size, shape, and alt mode, though not in color or kibble.
“It was rather amusing,” a deep voice rumbled from the yellow frame.
“What was?” Bluestreak blurt out, unable to control himself. “Because whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll hear it sooner or later, I mean, you know how gossip runs through the army, I think, or maybe you don't, because I haven't seen you before, and I’ve seen everyone on base, at least, I think I have. But anyways, gossip always goes fast, here, so-”
“Primus, do you always talk that much?” the yellow mech growled lowly, and Bluestreak silenced himself with a yip.
Then, when he received two questioning glances, he started up again.
“Yeah, I guess I do, I mean, my name is Bluestreak - I’m Bluestreak, by the way - so it kinda makes sense, but everyone always tells me to shut up, but I don't like being quiet, because - well, I just don't. I do talk a lot, though, everyone says so, and I know it's annoying, but I start and I just can't-”
A black hand was slapped gently across gray lips. “Shh,” the red mech hummed with a grin. “You said you wanted to hear what we were talking about. If you wanna hear it, you've gotta be quiet.”
Bluestreak nodded, wide blue optics gazing earnestly into the red mech's.
“Alright, then. My name's Sideswipe, by the way. And that's my better half, Sunstreaker.”
“If I’m your better half-”
“I know, I know, the world is doomed, Sunshine. I meant to say 'prettier half'. Anyways, that's Sunstreaker.”
“You guys are bondmates? Because there aren't really many bondmates left, you know, I mean. There are a few people who a lot of people think are bonded, and then there are Optimus Prime and Elita One, and Ironhide and Chromia, and I think Ratchet and Wheeljack, and maybe-”
The black hand once again landed on his lips, stopping the tide of words, and Sideswipe smiled. “No, not bondmates. At least not in the ordinary sense. We're twins. Yes, yes, split-sparked twins. Get over your surprise now. We're used to it, so you'd better get used to it, too.”
“Yes, sir!” the gray Praxian squeaked.
“No 'sir',” Sunstreaker ordered. “We're frontliners, not officers. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are fine.”
“I... Okay,” the gunner managed, rather cowed.
“Good. Now, Sideswipe. You were going to tell a story.”
“Oh, right! Well, see, Ironhide missed Prowl's notice, telling him that we don't need the fighting evaluation. We were gladiators, before - shh, don't interrupt. Yes, gladiators. Some of the best - and we know how to fight, but, like I said, Ironhide didn't get Prowl's message.” Sideswipe chuckled, smirking.
“So, anyways, we get in there, and the old rust-heap orders us on the mat, together, at the same time (how rusted is he, anyways?)-”
“You forgot the part where he had us spar.”
“Oh, right!” Sideswipe exclaimed, “He had us spar, first, which is fun, but we sorta know what the other's gonna do before he does it, so it doesn't... well, anyways. Then he gets up on the mat and orders us to come at him. And this is where I start not believing the... 'legends' about him, because we do like he says, and we knock him down in one hit!”
Bluestreak's optics widened almost comically. “You... you knocked Ironhide down? Are you sure it was Ironhide, because he doesn't get knocked down, like, ever, and if you really did do that, that would be, like-”
“Yeah. We know. But we did it,” Sunstreaker said, barely smirking.
“How?”
“Well, we did say we were gladiators, remember?”
“Yeah, but Ironhide is, like, well, he's like, never been beaten! He's the Prime's bodyguard, so-”
Sideswipe shook his helm, and Bluestreak cut himself off.
The Twins smirked to each other. “Well, that isn't all we've done. We got a Seeker out of the sky, once, in a match.”
“What?”
“Yup. Jumped on his wings and brought him down... It was a long time ago, but I still remember it like it happened last orn...”
And in a dark corner of the Rec Room, a black and white doorwing'd shadow glared out at the two mechs chatting up his creation.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Ironhide sat down heavily, hydraulics hissing loudly, gears creaking rather ominously.
“Ironhide, is something wrong?” Optimus asked from behind his desk, where he was reading a datapad.
“Nah, I’m fine. Just my pride that's dented.”
“Pride? What has happened?”
Ironhide vented heavily. “Well... Y'know how I was going through the new recruits t'day?”
“Yes?”
“Well... I shoulda payed more attention to my messages... 'Cause we had two gladiators in t'day.”
“Ah, yes, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.”
Engine rumbling, Ironhide glared at his Prime. “Yeah, well, they're better than I thought they would be.”
“They survived in the Kaonian Gladiator Pits, Ironhide. They are very good,” Optimus said, his smile visible in the way his optics crinkled at the edges.
“Yeah, but I didn't know about that.”
“Mm. Do you wish to tell me what happened?”
“Might as well. You won't leave me alone until I do. And don't you dare try to deny it. I know you, Prime. Ugh. Well, I told 'em to go up and spar with each other, and they did, and I could tell that they were pretty good. So then I got up to fight them, and...”
“What happened, Old Friend?”
The red mech mumbled something under the sound of his ex-vents, and, amused, the Prime leaned forward, pushing a few datapads aside.
“Ironhide?”
“They took me out, okay? In one move!” the mech exploded, standing up, swinging his arms over his helm, pacing back and forth. “Me! They just jumped, and I was on the ground!”
“Then we should be glad that they have decided to join with us, rather than the Decepticons, no?”
“I... Arrhhh, Prime...”
“Yes, Ironhide?”
“Stop making me feel guilty. I don't deserve it.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Ironhide.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What was that?”
“Nothin', nothin'...”
Title: Visiting Hours
Rating: K+
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Ratchet, others mentioned
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 2. Visiting hours
Ratchet had very strict visiting times. Nobody followed them, though, and, despite his moans, groans, and sighs, he didn't really care. He understood, and, to be honest, he liked having the mechs come in during the night joors.
Normal visiting hours were during the daylight joors. During the active shift. But Ratchet allowed people to visit during the off joors, as long as they weren't causing trouble. He fussed about it, but never kicked them out.
The truth was, the sight of his mechs caring for each other encouraged him.
Prowl, sneaking in after one of Jazz's missions got too close, to sit beside the saboteur for the long, silent night, soft music emanating from his speakers.
Jazz doing the same, after some hot-helmed Decepticon decided to take a shot at Prowl.
Mirage, sneaking in and sitting, usually invisible, by either Hound or Trailbreaker's berths after a bad scouting mission. Sometimes, he sat at both of their berths at the same time. Ratchet always made sure they were next to each other.
And Hound and Trailbreaker doing the same for the spy, whenever something went wrong.
Sideswipe, curled up at his brother's side, squeezing in a space that should have been much too small for him, determined to fit anyways.
Sunstreaker, coming in and sitting at the side of his brother's berth, humming soft lullabies under his ex-vents, stroking one hand gently along Sideswipe's arm.
Then both of them coming when Bluestreak was injured, and Bluestreak coming for them.
Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, who would always sneak in to see each other, along with, occasionally, the horde of other minibots.
And Optimus Prime, who would come in the middle of the night-cycle and take a short tour of the Med Bay, smiling to those who were awake, taking just a moment to watch those who were in recharge.
They always came. There were always mechs who were not currently patients in his Med Bay.
But Ratchet, as much as he would grumble and moan, didn't care. Because they did, and they were showing it. That was why they came. Because they cared. Cared about their fellows. Their lovers and friends and comrades.
And to Ratchet, that was good to see. That his patients had lives outside his realm. That his good work went to good use. That they were living.
So he pretended to enforce strict visiting hours. Told people they had to leave as the light-cycle came to a close. Told them they could come back in the morning.
But everyone knew. They knew it meant he was going to recharge, that they could stay as long as they liked, that they could keep loving, keep living, and keep caring.
Title: Steam
Rating: K+
Continuity: Severely AU.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Starscream
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 3. Task: Write a steampunk AU involving two of your favorite characters.
Prowl glared at the schematics the ship's computer was currently displaying.
“What's wrong, love?”
Doorwings twitching, Prowl turned his glare on his bondmate.
“Whoa, Prowler, calm down. S'up?”
“This planet... We cannot go here! We will not be able to scan their transportational units.”
“Why not?”
“Look!” Prowl growled lowly.
Jazz leaned forward to examine the screen. After a moment, he cycled air through his vents. “Steam power? They've got a whole planet runnin' on steam? How... inefficient.”
“I know. But we can not replicate the process. There is no way for us to blend in! No way for us to fit... We run entirely too strangely compared to their machinery to blend in.”
“So... We pass on?”
“I suppose, though the Prime will not like the fact that we have to leave a planet unexplored.”
“Eh, tell him it's populated with sentient lifeforms.”
“Are they sentient?”
“Dunno. But we can say we think so, an' we ain't s'posed to start wit'out his permission if we think that, so... it'll put the prob'lm off fer a bit.”
“... Very well. Starscream?” Prowl said, opening a comm channel to their pilot.
“Hm, Prowl?” came the response over the comm channel.
“We're passing by this planet. We think it might be occupied by sentient life.”
“Gotcha. Next planet up is in three joors.”
“Thank you, Starscream. Prowl out.”
Title: Web of Light
Rating: K
Continuity: G1
Characters: Cosmos
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 4. This image. (If you're curious, here's a little blurm about the pic)
Cosmos had long since decided that he liked Earth. It was such a pretty planet. Not to mention the best team he had ever been part of was stationed there. He loved space, but he always spared a moment to regret leaving Earth's atmosphere.
But there were times, like right now, when he could hold only awe. He had seen populated planets before, but none like this. Cybertron, for example, had been one mass of glittering lights, as had been most of the other populated planets he had seen.
But Earth... The humans hadn't spread to cover the entire planet yet. Well, they had, but they hadn't built over the whole planet yet.
The planet wasn't one mass of light. It was... dark, with webs of sparkling lights. He could see the human cities laid out like glowing dots, with glimmering chains connecting them. The main highways, along which grew towns and cities. The dots spread out along the whole continent, ending abruptly at the shorelines.
It was so beautiful. A galaxy of lights on the surface of a planet.
For a few long moments, the little shuttle allowed himself to float a bit, simply staring at the webs of lights. Then he reminded himself that he had a mission to get on with, and that Earth would be here when he got back. And who knew? Maybe Skyfire would bring up a few of his closer friends; Hound, Bumblebee, Perceptor; and they could all stare at the beautiful lights for a time...
Title: Downrange Conversation
Rating: K
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Bluestreak, Unnamed human girl who may or may not be myself.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 5. Downrange
Notes: This is, apparently, a week for sequels...
“Well, I did say you'd be better than me,” the girl said, smiling up at the gray mech. “All bulls-eyes. Wow.”
Bluestreak shrugged, doorwings twitching as he looked at his companion's target sheet. “You didn't do too bad yourself. Overall score of ninety five out of one hundred... That's pretty good.”
“Eh, it's okay. I totally blew that one,” she said, pointing to the bottom left target, where the bullet had passed through one of the outer rings.
“But the rest...”
The girl chuckled. “Stop trying to encourage me. I know it's pretty good, but I also know I’m capable of doing better. Anyways, I told you before, I do this for fun. I like it when I do well, but...”
Bluestreak smiled. “Okay, okay, I see your point, I guess. And it is fun. Thanks for doing this with me.”
“Hey, thank you. It's always more fun to shoot with someone rather than alone. Not to mention I now can brag about shooting with one of the Autobots,” she said with a grin as they started walking back up-range, away from their newly set targets, their spent targets in their hands.
Title: Crash
Rating: T
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Unnamed Seeker
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 6. Pick a line of lyrics from this song to inspire your fic. (Here's the song if you're curious.)
Notes: Okay, so, the prompt was to choose just “a line,” so... I listened to it, heard this line, and decided to completely disregard the whole meaning of the song/whatever in favor of just using the one line. Well, okay, two lines. These:
Come crashing down on me
I’m taking you with me
Sideswipe clung to the edges of the Seeker's wings as he careened through the sky. Jet Judo, they called it. Tackling the jets out of the air, snatching them from their element, bringing them down to a level where they could beat them, where they could rip out their sparks and tear them apart and win another match.
The Seeker was green. A sort of sickly, gray-green, Sideswipe thought absentmindedly as the flier tipped his nose downward. The color copper turned when it started to corrode, or the color of spoiled medical-grade energon.
Not that he had seen much of that in his lifetime, but...
~Focus, Sides,~ Sunstreaker ordered, poked his Twin mentally. ~You've almost got him.~
~Right.~
Sideswipe focused again on what was going on around him. The roar of the crowd pulsed in his audios. He could feel the wind as it rushed past him, through him. The Seeker was vibrating under his tight hold, tension, exhaustion, and time wreaking its havoc on the flier.
The red Twin suppressed a smile. This was the only part of this that he enjoyed. Finally beating someone. Seeing their submission, feeling it in their field. Then came the part he didn't like; the resigned part of the surrender. The knowledge finally sinking in, that the Twins would win, that a spark would soon be going out, and two frames, one yellow, one red, would be leaving the arena alive, while another was carted away for spare parts.
“I'm not just going down!” the Seeker finally screeched. “I know how you work!” Another heavy shudder. “You'll get me down. But that doesn't mean I can't bring you down with me!”
A small speck of dread rose in Sideswipe's spark.
This was the other part he hated. When the resigned surrender turned into the desire to do a last little bit of damage. To bring one of the Twins down with him.
~Watch, Sunny. He's a fighter.~
~Got it. Bring him low.~
With a grunt, the red Twin managed to heave himself more completely onto the Seeker's wings, then leaned forward, forcefully tipping the Seeker's nosecone toward the ground, and Sunstreaker.
~Pull up... now!~
And Sideswipe did, leaning back, yanking on the leading edges of the Seeker's wings, hissing as hydraulics strained and groaned with the stress of turning the fall.
Sunstreaker gave out a shout, half a feral snarl, half a rumble of his engine, as he leapt up and raked clawed fingers down the Seeker's belly.
The Seeker shrieked and tipped upward, and Sideswipe moved.
Keeping his grip on the edge of the Seeker's left wing, he leapt to the right, yanking, tugging, ripping.
He landed on his shoulder and rolled, springing up, back on his pedes, a moment later, wing in his hand.
The Seeker screamed as he plowed, nose-first, into the arena floor. Then the Twins were on him, claws out, faces twisted into feral snarls as they tore him apart. Shards of armor, twisted tangles of wire, bits and pieces of everything a mech was made of flew everywhere. Energon spattered over everything.
In barely half a breem, the Seeker was demolished, and the Twins stood, victorious, on their bloody, twisted, field of battle.
~I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, Sunny,~ Sideswipe whispered to his brother as the crowds roared their approval.
~I know. This weighs on my spark. Our spark.~
~It does. How...~
~Soon. Very soon. Things are changing. Kaon is falling apart. Can't you see it? The news feeds... We can go to the Autobots.~
The two exchanged a knowing glance as ten heavily armored and armed guards herded them back to the underground cells where the fighters were kept.
~Soon,~ they whispered together.
Rating: K+
Continuity: G1?
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Ironhide, Optimus Prime
Disclaimer:
Prompt: 1. Task: Take a short fic you wrote and have one of the characters in that story having to tell that story to someone else. Who do they tell? How does that story go over? (For example, I wrote a little Whirl and Skids for last week-how would skids report this little adventure to, say, Ultra Magnus? How might whirl tell it to Swerve or Rung, etc).
Notes: Got two fics out of this one. And the credit for writing a “sequel” to this story goes to kkcliffy and Wildwhisker. They both requested it when I asked for help, so... here it is! And I also managed to clock out two stories for this one, though they sorta go together. Sorta.
(This is the "retelling" of "Training," my first speedwriting fill.)
“Oh, Primus, that was awesome,” the red mech snickered as he sat heavily at the table.
The gray mech already sitting there stifled a squeak of surprise as the heavy frame landed. Then did so again, as another frame, identical in size, shape, and alt mode, though not in color or kibble.
“It was rather amusing,” a deep voice rumbled from the yellow frame.
“What was?” Bluestreak blurt out, unable to control himself. “Because whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll hear it sooner or later, I mean, you know how gossip runs through the army, I think, or maybe you don't, because I haven't seen you before, and I’ve seen everyone on base, at least, I think I have. But anyways, gossip always goes fast, here, so-”
“Primus, do you always talk that much?” the yellow mech growled lowly, and Bluestreak silenced himself with a yip.
Then, when he received two questioning glances, he started up again.
“Yeah, I guess I do, I mean, my name is Bluestreak - I’m Bluestreak, by the way - so it kinda makes sense, but everyone always tells me to shut up, but I don't like being quiet, because - well, I just don't. I do talk a lot, though, everyone says so, and I know it's annoying, but I start and I just can't-”
A black hand was slapped gently across gray lips. “Shh,” the red mech hummed with a grin. “You said you wanted to hear what we were talking about. If you wanna hear it, you've gotta be quiet.”
Bluestreak nodded, wide blue optics gazing earnestly into the red mech's.
“Alright, then. My name's Sideswipe, by the way. And that's my better half, Sunstreaker.”
“If I’m your better half-”
“I know, I know, the world is doomed, Sunshine. I meant to say 'prettier half'. Anyways, that's Sunstreaker.”
“You guys are bondmates? Because there aren't really many bondmates left, you know, I mean. There are a few people who a lot of people think are bonded, and then there are Optimus Prime and Elita One, and Ironhide and Chromia, and I think Ratchet and Wheeljack, and maybe-”
The black hand once again landed on his lips, stopping the tide of words, and Sideswipe smiled. “No, not bondmates. At least not in the ordinary sense. We're twins. Yes, yes, split-sparked twins. Get over your surprise now. We're used to it, so you'd better get used to it, too.”
“Yes, sir!” the gray Praxian squeaked.
“No 'sir',” Sunstreaker ordered. “We're frontliners, not officers. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are fine.”
“I... Okay,” the gunner managed, rather cowed.
“Good. Now, Sideswipe. You were going to tell a story.”
“Oh, right! Well, see, Ironhide missed Prowl's notice, telling him that we don't need the fighting evaluation. We were gladiators, before - shh, don't interrupt. Yes, gladiators. Some of the best - and we know how to fight, but, like I said, Ironhide didn't get Prowl's message.” Sideswipe chuckled, smirking.
“So, anyways, we get in there, and the old rust-heap orders us on the mat, together, at the same time (how rusted is he, anyways?)-”
“You forgot the part where he had us spar.”
“Oh, right!” Sideswipe exclaimed, “He had us spar, first, which is fun, but we sorta know what the other's gonna do before he does it, so it doesn't... well, anyways. Then he gets up on the mat and orders us to come at him. And this is where I start not believing the... 'legends' about him, because we do like he says, and we knock him down in one hit!”
Bluestreak's optics widened almost comically. “You... you knocked Ironhide down? Are you sure it was Ironhide, because he doesn't get knocked down, like, ever, and if you really did do that, that would be, like-”
“Yeah. We know. But we did it,” Sunstreaker said, barely smirking.
“How?”
“Well, we did say we were gladiators, remember?”
“Yeah, but Ironhide is, like, well, he's like, never been beaten! He's the Prime's bodyguard, so-”
Sideswipe shook his helm, and Bluestreak cut himself off.
The Twins smirked to each other. “Well, that isn't all we've done. We got a Seeker out of the sky, once, in a match.”
“What?”
“Yup. Jumped on his wings and brought him down... It was a long time ago, but I still remember it like it happened last orn...”
And in a dark corner of the Rec Room, a black and white doorwing'd shadow glared out at the two mechs chatting up his creation.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Ironhide sat down heavily, hydraulics hissing loudly, gears creaking rather ominously.
“Ironhide, is something wrong?” Optimus asked from behind his desk, where he was reading a datapad.
“Nah, I’m fine. Just my pride that's dented.”
“Pride? What has happened?”
Ironhide vented heavily. “Well... Y'know how I was going through the new recruits t'day?”
“Yes?”
“Well... I shoulda payed more attention to my messages... 'Cause we had two gladiators in t'day.”
“Ah, yes, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.”
Engine rumbling, Ironhide glared at his Prime. “Yeah, well, they're better than I thought they would be.”
“They survived in the Kaonian Gladiator Pits, Ironhide. They are very good,” Optimus said, his smile visible in the way his optics crinkled at the edges.
“Yeah, but I didn't know about that.”
“Mm. Do you wish to tell me what happened?”
“Might as well. You won't leave me alone until I do. And don't you dare try to deny it. I know you, Prime. Ugh. Well, I told 'em to go up and spar with each other, and they did, and I could tell that they were pretty good. So then I got up to fight them, and...”
“What happened, Old Friend?”
The red mech mumbled something under the sound of his ex-vents, and, amused, the Prime leaned forward, pushing a few datapads aside.
“Ironhide?”
“They took me out, okay? In one move!” the mech exploded, standing up, swinging his arms over his helm, pacing back and forth. “Me! They just jumped, and I was on the ground!”
“Then we should be glad that they have decided to join with us, rather than the Decepticons, no?”
“I... Arrhhh, Prime...”
“Yes, Ironhide?”
“Stop making me feel guilty. I don't deserve it.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Ironhide.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What was that?”
“Nothin', nothin'...”
Title: Visiting Hours
Rating: K+
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Ratchet, others mentioned
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 2. Visiting hours
Ratchet had very strict visiting times. Nobody followed them, though, and, despite his moans, groans, and sighs, he didn't really care. He understood, and, to be honest, he liked having the mechs come in during the night joors.
Normal visiting hours were during the daylight joors. During the active shift. But Ratchet allowed people to visit during the off joors, as long as they weren't causing trouble. He fussed about it, but never kicked them out.
The truth was, the sight of his mechs caring for each other encouraged him.
Prowl, sneaking in after one of Jazz's missions got too close, to sit beside the saboteur for the long, silent night, soft music emanating from his speakers.
Jazz doing the same, after some hot-helmed Decepticon decided to take a shot at Prowl.
Mirage, sneaking in and sitting, usually invisible, by either Hound or Trailbreaker's berths after a bad scouting mission. Sometimes, he sat at both of their berths at the same time. Ratchet always made sure they were next to each other.
And Hound and Trailbreaker doing the same for the spy, whenever something went wrong.
Sideswipe, curled up at his brother's side, squeezing in a space that should have been much too small for him, determined to fit anyways.
Sunstreaker, coming in and sitting at the side of his brother's berth, humming soft lullabies under his ex-vents, stroking one hand gently along Sideswipe's arm.
Then both of them coming when Bluestreak was injured, and Bluestreak coming for them.
Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, who would always sneak in to see each other, along with, occasionally, the horde of other minibots.
And Optimus Prime, who would come in the middle of the night-cycle and take a short tour of the Med Bay, smiling to those who were awake, taking just a moment to watch those who were in recharge.
They always came. There were always mechs who were not currently patients in his Med Bay.
But Ratchet, as much as he would grumble and moan, didn't care. Because they did, and they were showing it. That was why they came. Because they cared. Cared about their fellows. Their lovers and friends and comrades.
And to Ratchet, that was good to see. That his patients had lives outside his realm. That his good work went to good use. That they were living.
So he pretended to enforce strict visiting hours. Told people they had to leave as the light-cycle came to a close. Told them they could come back in the morning.
But everyone knew. They knew it meant he was going to recharge, that they could stay as long as they liked, that they could keep loving, keep living, and keep caring.
Title: Steam
Rating: K+
Continuity: Severely AU.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Starscream
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 3. Task: Write a steampunk AU involving two of your favorite characters.
Prowl glared at the schematics the ship's computer was currently displaying.
“What's wrong, love?”
Doorwings twitching, Prowl turned his glare on his bondmate.
“Whoa, Prowler, calm down. S'up?”
“This planet... We cannot go here! We will not be able to scan their transportational units.”
“Why not?”
“Look!” Prowl growled lowly.
Jazz leaned forward to examine the screen. After a moment, he cycled air through his vents. “Steam power? They've got a whole planet runnin' on steam? How... inefficient.”
“I know. But we can not replicate the process. There is no way for us to blend in! No way for us to fit... We run entirely too strangely compared to their machinery to blend in.”
“So... We pass on?”
“I suppose, though the Prime will not like the fact that we have to leave a planet unexplored.”
“Eh, tell him it's populated with sentient lifeforms.”
“Are they sentient?”
“Dunno. But we can say we think so, an' we ain't s'posed to start wit'out his permission if we think that, so... it'll put the prob'lm off fer a bit.”
“... Very well. Starscream?” Prowl said, opening a comm channel to their pilot.
“Hm, Prowl?” came the response over the comm channel.
“We're passing by this planet. We think it might be occupied by sentient life.”
“Gotcha. Next planet up is in three joors.”
“Thank you, Starscream. Prowl out.”
Title: Web of Light
Rating: K
Continuity: G1
Characters: Cosmos
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 4. This image. (If you're curious, here's a little blurm about the pic)
Cosmos had long since decided that he liked Earth. It was such a pretty planet. Not to mention the best team he had ever been part of was stationed there. He loved space, but he always spared a moment to regret leaving Earth's atmosphere.
But there were times, like right now, when he could hold only awe. He had seen populated planets before, but none like this. Cybertron, for example, had been one mass of glittering lights, as had been most of the other populated planets he had seen.
But Earth... The humans hadn't spread to cover the entire planet yet. Well, they had, but they hadn't built over the whole planet yet.
The planet wasn't one mass of light. It was... dark, with webs of sparkling lights. He could see the human cities laid out like glowing dots, with glimmering chains connecting them. The main highways, along which grew towns and cities. The dots spread out along the whole continent, ending abruptly at the shorelines.
It was so beautiful. A galaxy of lights on the surface of a planet.
For a few long moments, the little shuttle allowed himself to float a bit, simply staring at the webs of lights. Then he reminded himself that he had a mission to get on with, and that Earth would be here when he got back. And who knew? Maybe Skyfire would bring up a few of his closer friends; Hound, Bumblebee, Perceptor; and they could all stare at the beautiful lights for a time...
Title: Downrange Conversation
Rating: K
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Bluestreak, Unnamed human girl who may or may not be myself.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 5. Downrange
Notes: This is, apparently, a week for sequels...
“Well, I did say you'd be better than me,” the girl said, smiling up at the gray mech. “All bulls-eyes. Wow.”
Bluestreak shrugged, doorwings twitching as he looked at his companion's target sheet. “You didn't do too bad yourself. Overall score of ninety five out of one hundred... That's pretty good.”
“Eh, it's okay. I totally blew that one,” she said, pointing to the bottom left target, where the bullet had passed through one of the outer rings.
“But the rest...”
The girl chuckled. “Stop trying to encourage me. I know it's pretty good, but I also know I’m capable of doing better. Anyways, I told you before, I do this for fun. I like it when I do well, but...”
Bluestreak smiled. “Okay, okay, I see your point, I guess. And it is fun. Thanks for doing this with me.”
“Hey, thank you. It's always more fun to shoot with someone rather than alone. Not to mention I now can brag about shooting with one of the Autobots,” she said with a grin as they started walking back up-range, away from their newly set targets, their spent targets in their hands.
Title: Crash
Rating: T
Continuity: G1ish
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Unnamed Seeker
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 6. Pick a line of lyrics from this song to inspire your fic. (Here's the song if you're curious.)
Notes: Okay, so, the prompt was to choose just “a line,” so... I listened to it, heard this line, and decided to completely disregard the whole meaning of the song/whatever in favor of just using the one line. Well, okay, two lines. These:
Come crashing down on me
I’m taking you with me
Sideswipe clung to the edges of the Seeker's wings as he careened through the sky. Jet Judo, they called it. Tackling the jets out of the air, snatching them from their element, bringing them down to a level where they could beat them, where they could rip out their sparks and tear them apart and win another match.
The Seeker was green. A sort of sickly, gray-green, Sideswipe thought absentmindedly as the flier tipped his nose downward. The color copper turned when it started to corrode, or the color of spoiled medical-grade energon.
Not that he had seen much of that in his lifetime, but...
~Focus, Sides,~ Sunstreaker ordered, poked his Twin mentally. ~You've almost got him.~
~Right.~
Sideswipe focused again on what was going on around him. The roar of the crowd pulsed in his audios. He could feel the wind as it rushed past him, through him. The Seeker was vibrating under his tight hold, tension, exhaustion, and time wreaking its havoc on the flier.
The red Twin suppressed a smile. This was the only part of this that he enjoyed. Finally beating someone. Seeing their submission, feeling it in their field. Then came the part he didn't like; the resigned part of the surrender. The knowledge finally sinking in, that the Twins would win, that a spark would soon be going out, and two frames, one yellow, one red, would be leaving the arena alive, while another was carted away for spare parts.
“I'm not just going down!” the Seeker finally screeched. “I know how you work!” Another heavy shudder. “You'll get me down. But that doesn't mean I can't bring you down with me!”
A small speck of dread rose in Sideswipe's spark.
This was the other part he hated. When the resigned surrender turned into the desire to do a last little bit of damage. To bring one of the Twins down with him.
~Watch, Sunny. He's a fighter.~
~Got it. Bring him low.~
With a grunt, the red Twin managed to heave himself more completely onto the Seeker's wings, then leaned forward, forcefully tipping the Seeker's nosecone toward the ground, and Sunstreaker.
~Pull up... now!~
And Sideswipe did, leaning back, yanking on the leading edges of the Seeker's wings, hissing as hydraulics strained and groaned with the stress of turning the fall.
Sunstreaker gave out a shout, half a feral snarl, half a rumble of his engine, as he leapt up and raked clawed fingers down the Seeker's belly.
The Seeker shrieked and tipped upward, and Sideswipe moved.
Keeping his grip on the edge of the Seeker's left wing, he leapt to the right, yanking, tugging, ripping.
He landed on his shoulder and rolled, springing up, back on his pedes, a moment later, wing in his hand.
The Seeker screamed as he plowed, nose-first, into the arena floor. Then the Twins were on him, claws out, faces twisted into feral snarls as they tore him apart. Shards of armor, twisted tangles of wire, bits and pieces of everything a mech was made of flew everywhere. Energon spattered over everything.
In barely half a breem, the Seeker was demolished, and the Twins stood, victorious, on their bloody, twisted, field of battle.
~I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, Sunny,~ Sideswipe whispered to his brother as the crowds roared their approval.
~I know. This weighs on my spark. Our spark.~
~It does. How...~
~Soon. Very soon. Things are changing. Kaon is falling apart. Can't you see it? The news feeds... We can go to the Autobots.~
The two exchanged a knowing glance as ten heavily armored and armed guards herded them back to the underground cells where the fighters were kept.
~Soon,~ they whispered together.