Title: Hostage Situation
Fandom: Beast Wars: Transformers/Cape & Cowl RPG
Character(s): Terrorsaur and Slipstream's sharkticons
Rating/Warnings: Minor blood and robot swearing.
Disclaimer: Terrorsaur, Slipstream and the sharkticons are not my creations. They belong to their respective companies and creators, and are only being used here for some non-profit entertainment.
Summary: This is based on the happenings at the RPG known as
capeandcowl, which I've been at for a while playing Terrorsaur, but I'll be dropping soon. D: Basically what you need to know is that Terrorsaur (and all other 'bots brought to The City) get stuck in human bodies, though they get a few superpowers, usually based on weapons/abilities they had in their original body. Also, Slipstream is a bitch and would often hide some of her pet sharkticons in Terrorsaur's apartment just to "surprise" him. This story is kind of a properly-written version of a possible post he could make to the game.
And yes, this is a day late. I forgot to put it up. :/ Today's will follow in a few minutes.
“Slipstream, I think these little pranks with your pets have gone on quite long enough,” Terrorsaur began. “I can’t open a door in my own living quarters without worrying if one of your little toothy menaces is waiting on the other side.”
He then raised the captured sharkticon into view of the camera, holding it by the tail at arm’s length. “So in order to put an end to these games, I’m holding this little fragger hostage. If you don’t want me to take it apart piece by piece, you’ll do as I say.”
“My first condition is obviously that you call these two-byte biters off. I don’t know how many you’ve hidden here, but you’re going to come here, collect each and every one, and get them out of here!”
“My second condi-” The sharkticon cut him off as it managed to wiggle high enough to nip the underside of his arm. Terrorsaur screeched and gave it a warning shake. “That’s enough out of you! I’ll turn you into a toaster if you don’t keep those teeth to yourself! Do you hear me?!”
He let out a resigned squawk before continuing. “My second condition is that you agree to take me out for dinner. I’d prefer the pizza restaurant we went to when we first met. After all, it’s only fair that you compensate me for all my suffering.”
“Really Slipstream, is all this necessary? You and I can do so much more together than waste time with this foolishness. Why don’t we pool our power together? We could take command of this little rabble and figure out a way to end the Autobots and Maximals at long last! Think of the possibilities, won’t you?”
The Predacon failed to notice that as he spoke, the sharkticon in his grasp slowed its thrashing. It grinned, at least as much as it could, viewable only to the camera feed. The reason for the grin showed itself a moment later, in the form of a second sharkticon leaping up and biting onto Terrorsaur’s shoulder. In the next few minutes, the viewer is treated to glimpses of him running and thrashing about as he attempts to tame both of Slipstream's pets. All of it is accompanied by a symphony of screeching, chomping and things being knocked over or broken.
Eventually, Terrorsaur slumps into view again, sweaty and bleeding in a few places. He’s only visible for a moment before he collapses with the sharkticons clinging to one arm and one thigh.