Fic meme, part 1
Work In Progress meme:
Post a sentence (or two) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
Meme picked up from Icka M. Chif. Some will be posted soon; others may never be finished. Just as warning.
His recently-deceased msater had been rather excessive in the usage of swift drops. His original creator/leader had been a flier, a jet-build originally from Praxus. He did not mind the drops and sharp climbs utilized by him.
The problem in finding a new master, he thought, was that he needed to be healed first. To be injured while seeking aid could mean his own destruction. To be healed, he would have to seek out the Autobots, as they were likely to have more available resources on planet, as well as the knowledge of how to speed the healing A part of him rebelled - the thrill of killing was tempting, but . . .
*****
"Bluestreak?!"
"Bluestreak is no more," the grey mech spat, door-wings wavering high and defensive. "And my true name is not to be spoken by those who contributed to the devastation of Praxus."
Jazz howled in fury-sorrow as he fired, downing as many of the retreating Decepticons as he could. Sorry, Prowler, he thought, I'm sorry I couldn't spare you the pain that I experienced.
"I tried to stop it-"
"To use a human expression, bullshit."
*****
Five heists in one night was difficult to imagine being plausible with three people, especially given that the heists had to go off precisely, one after the other. Saguru shuddered to think of how Kuroba would have managed the feat with Nakamori-kun's help, let alone on his own. He reminded himself that this particular heist had been planned by himself, and forced himself to calm down. The plan was to have Kaito take the first heist, Aoko the second, himself the third, Aoko fourth, and Kaito the fifth (Aoko's first heist and second one were closer together, giving Kaito the time needed to make it to his second heist of the night).
*****
My name is Saguru Jonathan Hakuba. I wanted to become a detective when I was thirteen years old. My younger brother Daiki intended to follow in my footsteps.
All hopes of becoming a detective at thirteen were dashed when I was eight years old, just months after I'd come up with the idea.
*****
He was in the middle of a briefing on the best-advised course of action to prepare against the next Decepticon assault when it happened.
*****
"What happened here?" The security guard cast a pointed glance towards the fallen rubble.
"I - oh, officer, please, you have to help us - Satoru-niisan's been kidnapped!" Natsuko burst into tears with the last declaration.
Damnit, Saguru Hakuba, is it too much to ask that we could have a normal family vacation?
*****
Sizzling filled the air, punctuated by the clangs of metal at regular-irregular intervals as metal flashed. The scent of roasting meat drifted through the room.
Reginald Simmons scooped up the now-finished steak and transferred every piece to the appropriate plate, never once dripping sauce or dropping a piece.
The other humans present - the younger non-Sector ones - stared, mouths wide.
"We all have tasks in our free time to keep the operation running smoothly," Simmons drawled. "I mastered show-cooking, Japanese-style."
*****
Today, at fourteen hours, twenty-nine minutes, forty-eight seconds, and nine hundredths of a second, my homeroom teacher, Katayama Yuki-sensei, will be dead. I do not know the specifics of the event yet, only that it will happen.
And now comes the same question that I ask myself every time:
Do I spare her life for a few more minutes, and risk more dying, or do I merely Escort her directly?
*****
Hakuba froze halfway to his target. He turned slowly to look at the speaker, hidden to Kaito due to the section of the wall which swung into the cell. The blond's eyes widened.
"Rose?" he breathed, face the perfect picture to put in a dictionary next to the definition of astonishment.
Will be posting more later. Untagged to avoid spoilers.
Post a sentence (or two) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
Meme picked up from Icka M. Chif. Some will be posted soon; others may never be finished. Just as warning.
His recently-deceased msater had been rather excessive in the usage of swift drops. His original creator/leader had been a flier, a jet-build originally from Praxus. He did not mind the drops and sharp climbs utilized by him.
The problem in finding a new master, he thought, was that he needed to be healed first. To be injured while seeking aid could mean his own destruction. To be healed, he would have to seek out the Autobots, as they were likely to have more available resources on planet, as well as the knowledge of how to speed the healing A part of him rebelled - the thrill of killing was tempting, but . . .
*****
"Bluestreak?!"
"Bluestreak is no more," the grey mech spat, door-wings wavering high and defensive. "And my true name is not to be spoken by those who contributed to the devastation of Praxus."
Jazz howled in fury-sorrow as he fired, downing as many of the retreating Decepticons as he could. Sorry, Prowler, he thought, I'm sorry I couldn't spare you the pain that I experienced.
"I tried to stop it-"
"To use a human expression, bullshit."
*****
Five heists in one night was difficult to imagine being plausible with three people, especially given that the heists had to go off precisely, one after the other. Saguru shuddered to think of how Kuroba would have managed the feat with Nakamori-kun's help, let alone on his own. He reminded himself that this particular heist had been planned by himself, and forced himself to calm down. The plan was to have Kaito take the first heist, Aoko the second, himself the third, Aoko fourth, and Kaito the fifth (Aoko's first heist and second one were closer together, giving Kaito the time needed to make it to his second heist of the night).
*****
My name is Saguru Jonathan Hakuba. I wanted to become a detective when I was thirteen years old. My younger brother Daiki intended to follow in my footsteps.
All hopes of becoming a detective at thirteen were dashed when I was eight years old, just months after I'd come up with the idea.
*****
He was in the middle of a briefing on the best-advised course of action to prepare against the next Decepticon assault when it happened.
*****
"What happened here?" The security guard cast a pointed glance towards the fallen rubble.
"I - oh, officer, please, you have to help us - Satoru-niisan's been kidnapped!" Natsuko burst into tears with the last declaration.
Damnit, Saguru Hakuba, is it too much to ask that we could have a normal family vacation?
*****
Sizzling filled the air, punctuated by the clangs of metal at regular-irregular intervals as metal flashed. The scent of roasting meat drifted through the room.
Reginald Simmons scooped up the now-finished steak and transferred every piece to the appropriate plate, never once dripping sauce or dropping a piece.
The other humans present - the younger non-Sector ones - stared, mouths wide.
"We all have tasks in our free time to keep the operation running smoothly," Simmons drawled. "I mastered show-cooking, Japanese-style."
*****
Today, at fourteen hours, twenty-nine minutes, forty-eight seconds, and nine hundredths of a second, my homeroom teacher, Katayama Yuki-sensei, will be dead. I do not know the specifics of the event yet, only that it will happen.
And now comes the same question that I ask myself every time:
Do I spare her life for a few more minutes, and risk more dying, or do I merely Escort her directly?
*****
Hakuba froze halfway to his target. He turned slowly to look at the speaker, hidden to Kaito due to the section of the wall which swung into the cell. The blond's eyes widened.
"Rose?" he breathed, face the perfect picture to put in a dictionary next to the definition of astonishment.
Will be posting more later. Untagged to avoid spoilers.