I'll post something cheerful this weekend sometime, I promise.
Or something pervy, either way. And speaking of the weekend- zomg so glad it's the weekend. *flopthud*
Anyway, my wingthing (see my default icon, or the banner at the top of my layout - that's her) has been making sad eyes at me, but I knew I'd never get her story written down anywhere near coherent. Soooo, I cheated and did the 50 sentences thing. ;) This is theme set Delta, but I rearranged the sentences into a rough chronological order.
Beginning
"Sometimes I think about Mission City - I wonder if anyone saw me fly."
Flying
Surrounded by blue, she'd forgotten which way was down again and saw little point in trying to remember.
Air
Freefall felt like an embrace, if a rather cold and loud one that whipped her hair about her head.
Fall
That there was no one to catch her seemed irrelevant - she could catch herself, or not, as she chose.
Earth
From Starscream's cockpit, Earth looked so small; she reached up against the glass and held it in her cupped hands.
War
"Ours is a righteous war," Starscream intoned, and the wingthing rolled her eyes.
Ugly
Starscream scrubbed viciously at the caked blood where the wingthing's skin met its wings, as if he could scrape away all the organic bits.
Coffee
She only needed a little energon for her metal parts, but even that small amount felt like what coffee might do if it was made out of electricity.
Taboo
Starscream just plain didn't get why his pet screamed at him if he caught her with her shirt off - Barricade did, though, or maybe he just enjoyed her reaction.
Head
It didn't hurt Starscream to let his pet have her head once in a while - besides, it was fun reining her back in.
Dark
"How much can you see?" Starscream asked idly, and she glanced up to peer into the glow of his optics - "Your face, not much else."
Bugs
No one bothered to warn her about how sensitive Decepticons could be about their little glitches - thank goodness for crawlspaces in the ceiling.
Food
Barricade was the one she asked when she wanted food, even if sometimes he brought it to her spoiled (not always, but sometimes - that's what made him a sadist).
Despair
Starscream pinned her to the table, sneering, "Are you quite done?" and she couldn't even hope he'd use a little too much pressure and break her back.
Foot
Wiggling her bound leg dolefully, she thought about animals who chewed their own limbs off to escape traps.
Secret
"Who glued my synchrolaser to the table!" came Starscream's indignant shriek; the wingthing exchanged glances with Frenzy and grinned.
Flexible
She thought her brain was still in the process of rewiring itself, making itself think like something that could fly - it made the world go funny shapes sometimes, but she was learning to change with them.
Pretty
"Your wings are so pretty," Starscream crooned, "too bad about the rest of you."
Apples
The winged girl clutched the apple to her shirt and stuffed a grubby dollar into the hand of the fear-stiffened shopkeeper; "Sorry," she muttered, though she doubted she could be heard over the racket Starscream was making.
Honor
"I don't want to know how you got it," she croaked at Barricade, and shoved the bread into her mouth before revulsion could make her retch.
Fire
It amused Starscream that his toy was bold enough to curse at him to his face, rather than behind his back like most Decepticons would.
Lost
"Got your ass kicked again, didn't you?" she smirked, counting on Starscream's injuries to make him too slow to grab her.
Poison
"Don't eat anything Barricade gives you anymore," Starscream muttered, watching his pet curl up around her stomach and sweat.
Hope
There were other robots out there, too; Starscream said they'd kill her on sight, because of her belonging to him, but maybe they'd let her off the creance first.
End
Starscream fell, shrieking; and she thought with a kind of numb acceptance that she would follow him.
Old
She felt centuries old as she approached the Autobots, weary and weak and bowed with too much grief for one lifetime.
Regret
She should have been afraid, she supposed, but all she could dredge up was a heavy, featureless regret as she requested of the big Autobot to kill her quickly.
Drink
"Here," the dark-haired girl murmured, pushing a vessel of something hot into her hands; she stared down at it as if she'd forgotten what to do with it.
Grave
"Smile," Simmons told her as he held the camera phone up to her face, but the best she could manage was no expression at all.
New
It took her two hours and half a bottle of shampoo, but she finally crawled out of the tub feeling like a new person.
Metal
When Ratchet touched her wings, it felt like skin touching skin and like lightning touching earth.
Stable
"I'm not quite right in the head yet," she offered, and grinned when Epps assured her that wouldn't be a problem.
Snakes
"Politicians," Lennox spat, and she hunched her shoulders with worry.
Light
She stretched out in the glow from Optimus Prime's headlights, letting them outline her haven.
Doors
Getting through doors presented a logistical problem until she figured out how to fold her wings back.
Green
Ratchet's glower alone was enough to make her wince as she confessed, "I'm just trying to figure out what color you are."
Hollow
Fragments of memory ricocheted back and forth in her skull like sound in an echo chamber; try as she might, she couldn't catch hold of one long enough to see where it came from.
Duty
"It must be nice to know what you need to do," she smiled, and Ironhide harrumphed and mantled his shoulder plating.
Welcome
She was a little overwhelming, but Mrs. Witwicky made the wingthing feel welcome.
Strange
"There's no one in the world like me. Should I be writing depressing poetry about this?"
Winter
"I feel like a marshmallow," the wingthing complained; Mrs. Witwicky settled her hat more firmly on her head and replied, "At least you'll be a warm marshmallow."
Snow
She shrieked and shot halfway up the building when Sam stuffed a handful of snow down her back.
Spring
She barely breathed until the chick tumbled forth from its shell, and then couldn't resist peeping back at it.
Roses
The scent of the rose was familiar, and she took it by the stem to get a better sniff - ah, thorns were familiar too.
Rain
She wouldn't have flown through this rain for anyone else, but the Autobots sometimes prodded her to acts of positively silly bravery.
Solid
Sam half-collapsed on the ground when she put him down, groaning something about blessed terra firma, but the wingthing was already ready to fly again.
Summer
It was promising to be an interesting summer - the winged girl was refusing to accept that she could no longer swim.
Water
"I can't even dip my feet in the water," she groaned, and sprawled out on her towel.
Wood
Charcoal was messy and imprecise and not at all suited for drawing mechanical beings, but she was only doing it for herself anyway so it didn't matter.
Peace
She swung her feet off the high cliff, warming her wings in the sun, and waved at Optimus Prime when he glanced up to check on her.
Anyway, my wingthing (see my default icon, or the banner at the top of my layout - that's her) has been making sad eyes at me, but I knew I'd never get her story written down anywhere near coherent. Soooo, I cheated and did the 50 sentences thing. ;) This is theme set Delta, but I rearranged the sentences into a rough chronological order.
Beginning
"Sometimes I think about Mission City - I wonder if anyone saw me fly."
Flying
Surrounded by blue, she'd forgotten which way was down again and saw little point in trying to remember.
Air
Freefall felt like an embrace, if a rather cold and loud one that whipped her hair about her head.
Fall
That there was no one to catch her seemed irrelevant - she could catch herself, or not, as she chose.
Earth
From Starscream's cockpit, Earth looked so small; she reached up against the glass and held it in her cupped hands.
War
"Ours is a righteous war," Starscream intoned, and the wingthing rolled her eyes.
Ugly
Starscream scrubbed viciously at the caked blood where the wingthing's skin met its wings, as if he could scrape away all the organic bits.
Coffee
She only needed a little energon for her metal parts, but even that small amount felt like what coffee might do if it was made out of electricity.
Taboo
Starscream just plain didn't get why his pet screamed at him if he caught her with her shirt off - Barricade did, though, or maybe he just enjoyed her reaction.
Head
It didn't hurt Starscream to let his pet have her head once in a while - besides, it was fun reining her back in.
Dark
"How much can you see?" Starscream asked idly, and she glanced up to peer into the glow of his optics - "Your face, not much else."
Bugs
No one bothered to warn her about how sensitive Decepticons could be about their little glitches - thank goodness for crawlspaces in the ceiling.
Food
Barricade was the one she asked when she wanted food, even if sometimes he brought it to her spoiled (not always, but sometimes - that's what made him a sadist).
Despair
Starscream pinned her to the table, sneering, "Are you quite done?" and she couldn't even hope he'd use a little too much pressure and break her back.
Foot
Wiggling her bound leg dolefully, she thought about animals who chewed their own limbs off to escape traps.
Secret
"Who glued my synchrolaser to the table!" came Starscream's indignant shriek; the wingthing exchanged glances with Frenzy and grinned.
Flexible
She thought her brain was still in the process of rewiring itself, making itself think like something that could fly - it made the world go funny shapes sometimes, but she was learning to change with them.
Pretty
"Your wings are so pretty," Starscream crooned, "too bad about the rest of you."
Apples
The winged girl clutched the apple to her shirt and stuffed a grubby dollar into the hand of the fear-stiffened shopkeeper; "Sorry," she muttered, though she doubted she could be heard over the racket Starscream was making.
Honor
"I don't want to know how you got it," she croaked at Barricade, and shoved the bread into her mouth before revulsion could make her retch.
Fire
It amused Starscream that his toy was bold enough to curse at him to his face, rather than behind his back like most Decepticons would.
Lost
"Got your ass kicked again, didn't you?" she smirked, counting on Starscream's injuries to make him too slow to grab her.
Poison
"Don't eat anything Barricade gives you anymore," Starscream muttered, watching his pet curl up around her stomach and sweat.
Hope
There were other robots out there, too; Starscream said they'd kill her on sight, because of her belonging to him, but maybe they'd let her off the creance first.
End
Starscream fell, shrieking; and she thought with a kind of numb acceptance that she would follow him.
Old
She felt centuries old as she approached the Autobots, weary and weak and bowed with too much grief for one lifetime.
Regret
She should have been afraid, she supposed, but all she could dredge up was a heavy, featureless regret as she requested of the big Autobot to kill her quickly.
Drink
"Here," the dark-haired girl murmured, pushing a vessel of something hot into her hands; she stared down at it as if she'd forgotten what to do with it.
Grave
"Smile," Simmons told her as he held the camera phone up to her face, but the best she could manage was no expression at all.
New
It took her two hours and half a bottle of shampoo, but she finally crawled out of the tub feeling like a new person.
Metal
When Ratchet touched her wings, it felt like skin touching skin and like lightning touching earth.
Stable
"I'm not quite right in the head yet," she offered, and grinned when Epps assured her that wouldn't be a problem.
Snakes
"Politicians," Lennox spat, and she hunched her shoulders with worry.
Light
She stretched out in the glow from Optimus Prime's headlights, letting them outline her haven.
Doors
Getting through doors presented a logistical problem until she figured out how to fold her wings back.
Green
Ratchet's glower alone was enough to make her wince as she confessed, "I'm just trying to figure out what color you are."
Hollow
Fragments of memory ricocheted back and forth in her skull like sound in an echo chamber; try as she might, she couldn't catch hold of one long enough to see where it came from.
Duty
"It must be nice to know what you need to do," she smiled, and Ironhide harrumphed and mantled his shoulder plating.
Welcome
She was a little overwhelming, but Mrs. Witwicky made the wingthing feel welcome.
Strange
"There's no one in the world like me. Should I be writing depressing poetry about this?"
Winter
"I feel like a marshmallow," the wingthing complained; Mrs. Witwicky settled her hat more firmly on her head and replied, "At least you'll be a warm marshmallow."
Snow
She shrieked and shot halfway up the building when Sam stuffed a handful of snow down her back.
Spring
She barely breathed until the chick tumbled forth from its shell, and then couldn't resist peeping back at it.
Roses
The scent of the rose was familiar, and she took it by the stem to get a better sniff - ah, thorns were familiar too.
Rain
She wouldn't have flown through this rain for anyone else, but the Autobots sometimes prodded her to acts of positively silly bravery.
Solid
Sam half-collapsed on the ground when she put him down, groaning something about blessed terra firma, but the wingthing was already ready to fly again.
Summer
It was promising to be an interesting summer - the winged girl was refusing to accept that she could no longer swim.
Water
"I can't even dip my feet in the water," she groaned, and sprawled out on her towel.
Wood
Charcoal was messy and imprecise and not at all suited for drawing mechanical beings, but she was only doing it for herself anyway so it didn't matter.
Peace
She swung her feet off the high cliff, warming her wings in the sun, and waved at Optimus Prime when he glanced up to check on her.