(no subject)
Just a little ficlet. His armor can't do this yet.
He sits in the elevator, shifting his weight back and forth, standing up on his toes and sighing every few seconds. The other tourists give him a wide berth, and a few stare at his eyes. He hasn't bothered with his contacts today, and so everyone is staring at him.
One kid asks if he's a mutant, and he gives the boy a wicked grin. That shuts him up... until it makes him cry.
Primus.
It takes what feels like forever. He hates elevators, almost as much as he hates cars. It's all so enclosed. So unsafe feeling, to him. He's best in the open air.
He walks out onto the observation deck and sighs, letting the wind flow through his hair, closing his eyes.
This doesn't last long, as the tourists jostle past him. He resists the urge to shoot them all right then and there. That's not what he's here for.
He observes the area. The deck is enclosed by a steel cage, curved inward and topped with wicked spikes. There's a security guard and the place is thick with tourists, even with how dangerous the City is.
Maybe because of how dangerous the City is.
He clambers up on a nearby box, drawing the attention of the security guard.
"Hey, get down from there!"
"Fuck off," he responds, using the human term as he focuses his standard laser into a narrow beam, neatly slicing off the inward curving spines. The guard's eyes widen and he actually pulls his gun, but Starscream's too fast for the human, jumping up and over through the small gap he's created before landing on the other side.
He's not sure why he's pulling this stunt - this is far more something Skywarp would do. Or worse, Powerglide.
No, he knows why. He doesn't want to think. Stupidity like this lets him stop thinking.
Normally his processor - sorry, mind - runs a mile a minute, constantly going over schemes and ideas. Normally, he never stops thinking and ends up over thinking.
Except when he's in the air.
The guard shouts, and everyone clambers to the spot where he stands, jostling to see. He stands on the ledge calmly, then tests the heavy backpack he wears.
Yes, the release straps are in place.
He turns around.
He smirks.
And then
he
falls.
He hears screams and he laughs. Humans. So easily excited. He laughs, and pulls his goggles over his eyes as he falls, counting the seconds as he plummets, listning to the air whistle past his ears, feeling the strange human feeling like his heart is in his stomach as gravity takes over, and he laughs and he laughs...
And then at once he straightens, flipping over and whipping his hands out as he speaks a command. He does not need to say it loud - the tiny mic in his ear will pick it up well enough.
He speaks, in clear and perfect Cybertronian -
"Air Commander Starscream - Transform and rise up."
With a sudden clicking and shifting noise, the backpack on his back unfolds, size-changing technology activating with a flash of violet light as the suit transforms, helmet coming over his head as metal spreads over his body, as sheets unfold into great wings. As he transforms. Not literally, of course - inside the suit his body is still human - but externally he is changed, changed from something human into something both ancient and terrible - a perfect representation in miniature of his true shape.
Just before he hits the ground and no sooner he activates his jets with a roar, his mental commands activating his natural flight powers which in turn trigger the suit, and he flies.
He
flies
And he rockets through the city streets, accelerating as the suit's pressurization stabilizes so that the stress doesn't kill him, accelerates faster until there's a deafening sonic boom as glass shatters and people scream and he laughs again, laughs at these pathetic humans and their silly little lives.
He breathes (now that's so strange, still - that such a simple act as breathing is so... calming. He hates that he thinks this), and he soars
And for a moment
All his worries are gone.
He sits in the elevator, shifting his weight back and forth, standing up on his toes and sighing every few seconds. The other tourists give him a wide berth, and a few stare at his eyes. He hasn't bothered with his contacts today, and so everyone is staring at him.
One kid asks if he's a mutant, and he gives the boy a wicked grin. That shuts him up... until it makes him cry.
Primus.
It takes what feels like forever. He hates elevators, almost as much as he hates cars. It's all so enclosed. So unsafe feeling, to him. He's best in the open air.
He walks out onto the observation deck and sighs, letting the wind flow through his hair, closing his eyes.
This doesn't last long, as the tourists jostle past him. He resists the urge to shoot them all right then and there. That's not what he's here for.
He observes the area. The deck is enclosed by a steel cage, curved inward and topped with wicked spikes. There's a security guard and the place is thick with tourists, even with how dangerous the City is.
Maybe because of how dangerous the City is.
He clambers up on a nearby box, drawing the attention of the security guard.
"Hey, get down from there!"
"Fuck off," he responds, using the human term as he focuses his standard laser into a narrow beam, neatly slicing off the inward curving spines. The guard's eyes widen and he actually pulls his gun, but Starscream's too fast for the human, jumping up and over through the small gap he's created before landing on the other side.
He's not sure why he's pulling this stunt - this is far more something Skywarp would do. Or worse, Powerglide.
No, he knows why. He doesn't want to think. Stupidity like this lets him stop thinking.
Normally his processor - sorry, mind - runs a mile a minute, constantly going over schemes and ideas. Normally, he never stops thinking and ends up over thinking.
Except when he's in the air.
The guard shouts, and everyone clambers to the spot where he stands, jostling to see. He stands on the ledge calmly, then tests the heavy backpack he wears.
Yes, the release straps are in place.
He turns around.
He smirks.
And then
he
falls.
He hears screams and he laughs. Humans. So easily excited. He laughs, and pulls his goggles over his eyes as he falls, counting the seconds as he plummets, listning to the air whistle past his ears, feeling the strange human feeling like his heart is in his stomach as gravity takes over, and he laughs and he laughs...
And then at once he straightens, flipping over and whipping his hands out as he speaks a command. He does not need to say it loud - the tiny mic in his ear will pick it up well enough.
He speaks, in clear and perfect Cybertronian -
"Air Commander Starscream - Transform and rise up."
With a sudden clicking and shifting noise, the backpack on his back unfolds, size-changing technology activating with a flash of violet light as the suit transforms, helmet coming over his head as metal spreads over his body, as sheets unfold into great wings. As he transforms. Not literally, of course - inside the suit his body is still human - but externally he is changed, changed from something human into something both ancient and terrible - a perfect representation in miniature of his true shape.
Just before he hits the ground and no sooner he activates his jets with a roar, his mental commands activating his natural flight powers which in turn trigger the suit, and he flies.
He
flies
And he rockets through the city streets, accelerating as the suit's pressurization stabilizes so that the stress doesn't kill him, accelerates faster until there's a deafening sonic boom as glass shatters and people scream and he laughs again, laughs at these pathetic humans and their silly little lives.
He breathes (now that's so strange, still - that such a simple act as breathing is so... calming. He hates that he thinks this), and he soars
And for a moment
All his worries are gone.