Nexus. Blackout's kingdom. Autumn introspection
Hormah looked around as the blue and silver Autobot femme appeared a few feet away from her. "Wondered when ye was comin' back. Ben messin' wit' t' coordinates, eh, b'y?"
Tracer shook her head as she absently watched a bright yellow leaf spin past her to rest on the still green grass. "Yeah... but I didn't think I'd moved myself that far. I was aiming for the canyons where I showed up the first time."
"Tis' t' canyons." Hormah gently rubbed the back of the tall young mech who lay next to her, curled like a sparklet in recharge. "We's after bein' in an upper valley wit' water."
The Autobot turned her head, then jerked out her gun as two spark signatures regestered further back in the trees. One was weird, like Hormah's, but the other was unmistakably Decepticon.
The orange femme snorted at her. "Jes' midget brother. He ain't gonna hurt ye, me son."
"Your brother?" Tracer went rigid with shock and dismay as she realized the size of the grey-black behemoth that was laying on the grass over there with his face inches from the stream. "He's slagging huge!"
She scowled and got hold of herself, her optics picking out the other figure resting by the stream; a midnight blue and green mech even smaller than herself. "What's he doing?"
"Watchin' t' fish. He's after likin' 'em."
Tracer turned back to Hormah in time to see the orange tank-bot catch one of the falling leaves and look at it with wonder. "What, haven't you ever seen Autumn leaves before?"
"Nuh uh. Not t'is close." The young femme looked up. "I's nearly a year old. Was created durin' t' last Autumn."
Tracer blinked. "That new." Her optics strayed watchfully back toward the two mechs by the stream.
"'N Requiem's some newer. Dunno how old Beamrider's after bein'." Hormah rubbed the back of the mech next to her again, deedlebeeping softly in that odd other language that Tracer had noticed the first time they'd met. "'N Scarecrow's some older, but 'e ain't after actin' it."
The Autobot frowned, not having expected an introduction to the whole team. But then she noticed the wistful look in the little Decepticon's optics and surprised herself by asking, "What's wrong?"
Hormah blinked and then ducked her head to scan her leaf more closely. "T'inkin' 'o a b'y."
"A... boy?" Tracer's frown deepened. "A young human male?"
"Nah, b'y. Rap's Autobot." Hormah's face heated slightly. "Slaggin' pretty Autobot."
"You have a crush on an Autobot." Tracer's expression shifted to a scowl.
"Hard not t' when a b'y gives ye kisses 'n plays ye sweet music." Hormah gently blew the leaf off her hand, the wistfulness of her expression increasing.
"...Do his superiors know about this?"
"Yup. Prime 'n 'is lady jes' adopted me baby brot'er. T'ey knows."
Strange world and strange people. Tracer found herself settling warily to the grass and gathering up a handful of the aspen leaves, her gun within easy reach.
"This is so different from Cybertron." The words came out before she realized it.
"Yeah?" Hormah perked and looked at her with interest.
"Yeah. We don't have all this organic life there, or any really marked seasons... wait." She lifted her head and frowned at the larger femme. "Haven't you ever seen Cybertron?"
"Nah, b'y," came the soft reply. "'E died afore I was ever after comin' online."
"Died?" Tracer was aghast.
"Aye." Hormah leaned over sideways and rested her head on Scarecrow, who was actually padded in places and thus fit for the job of pillow. "Primus sez 'e'll live agin... but right now tis empty exceptin' fer t' dead."
Tracer shuddered. "Where are the survivors?"
"Blackout's down t' Blue's drinkin'. Scattor's proly off somewheres in space. Bumblebee's on Eart' wit' 'er human friend, 'n Prime, Ratchet, 'n Ironhide're tryin' t' fix Cybertron."
"And the others?"
"Ain't no ot'ers, b'y. 'At's all as came t'rough in my reality."
"Your reality." Tracer's suspicions were confirmed. She'd stepped into one of Sideswipe's crumby sci fi shows.
"Aye." Hormah lifted her head. "We's after bein' in a Nexus 'tween worlds here, b'y."
The blue and silver femme dropped her leaves and then scooped them up again, asking herself how she would feel if she were one of a handful of survivors and her world were dead. Her immediate thoughts latched onto Red Alert, Inferno, and Hound as being among the survivors... and then stubbornly persisted on adding Trailblazer too. Her face heated and she inwardly cursed at everyones' insistence that she and the big black mech were a couple.
"Eh, b'y...." Hormah's voice broke hesitantly into her thoughts.
"Call me Tracer."
"Tracer... ye ever git t' likin' a mech?"
The Autobot blinked and scowled at the younger femme, wondering if she were some sort of mind reader. But then she saw the look of honest youthful inquiry and remembered Hormah's words about 'Rap', and looked back to her leaves. In this fairy world, surrounded by trees peacefully preparing for sleep, it didn't seem so odd suddenly to be talking to a little orange Decepticon with a strange energy signature.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "But he's just a friend."
"What's 'at mean?" Hormah turned onto her back to frown at the older femme.
"Just what I said. He's my friend. We're not together or anything."
"So... ye don't git t' hug 'im?"
"I can if I want."
"Sit on 'im if 'e falls down?"
"Sure." She thought wistfully of rare play sessions.
"Kiss 'im?"
"No."
Hormah looked at the expression on Tracer's face. "Maybe ye should. Tis good fer makin' ye feel better."
"Slag, not you too." The Autobot scowled at her.
Innocent confusion and some low deedlebeeping was the orange femme's reply.
Tracer blew air out her intakes and threw the leaves into the air, then checked for Hormah's brother and Beamrider and found them stretched in the sun and looking nearly into recharge. "Like I said. We're just friends."
Hormah, used to seeing her creator kiss any mech that pleased her fancy, lifted her brow ridges uncomprehendingly.
The Autobot scowled and got to her feet. "I'd better get back to base before someone tries hailing me and has a fit when I don't reply."
"Sure, b'y." Hormah sat up too, confused and uneasy at her lack of understanding as to what was bothering the other femme. "Ye take care."
Tracer blinked, then nodded a little stiffly. "Sure."
She took a last glance around, then pressed the button on her PINpoint and went home.
Tracer shook her head as she absently watched a bright yellow leaf spin past her to rest on the still green grass. "Yeah... but I didn't think I'd moved myself that far. I was aiming for the canyons where I showed up the first time."
"Tis' t' canyons." Hormah gently rubbed the back of the tall young mech who lay next to her, curled like a sparklet in recharge. "We's after bein' in an upper valley wit' water."
The Autobot turned her head, then jerked out her gun as two spark signatures regestered further back in the trees. One was weird, like Hormah's, but the other was unmistakably Decepticon.
The orange femme snorted at her. "Jes' midget brother. He ain't gonna hurt ye, me son."
"Your brother?" Tracer went rigid with shock and dismay as she realized the size of the grey-black behemoth that was laying on the grass over there with his face inches from the stream. "He's slagging huge!"
She scowled and got hold of herself, her optics picking out the other figure resting by the stream; a midnight blue and green mech even smaller than herself. "What's he doing?"
"Watchin' t' fish. He's after likin' 'em."
Tracer turned back to Hormah in time to see the orange tank-bot catch one of the falling leaves and look at it with wonder. "What, haven't you ever seen Autumn leaves before?"
"Nuh uh. Not t'is close." The young femme looked up. "I's nearly a year old. Was created durin' t' last Autumn."
Tracer blinked. "That new." Her optics strayed watchfully back toward the two mechs by the stream.
"'N Requiem's some newer. Dunno how old Beamrider's after bein'." Hormah rubbed the back of the mech next to her again, deedlebeeping softly in that odd other language that Tracer had noticed the first time they'd met. "'N Scarecrow's some older, but 'e ain't after actin' it."
The Autobot frowned, not having expected an introduction to the whole team. But then she noticed the wistful look in the little Decepticon's optics and surprised herself by asking, "What's wrong?"
Hormah blinked and then ducked her head to scan her leaf more closely. "T'inkin' 'o a b'y."
"A... boy?" Tracer's frown deepened. "A young human male?"
"Nah, b'y. Rap's Autobot." Hormah's face heated slightly. "Slaggin' pretty Autobot."
"You have a crush on an Autobot." Tracer's expression shifted to a scowl.
"Hard not t' when a b'y gives ye kisses 'n plays ye sweet music." Hormah gently blew the leaf off her hand, the wistfulness of her expression increasing.
"...Do his superiors know about this?"
"Yup. Prime 'n 'is lady jes' adopted me baby brot'er. T'ey knows."
Strange world and strange people. Tracer found herself settling warily to the grass and gathering up a handful of the aspen leaves, her gun within easy reach.
"This is so different from Cybertron." The words came out before she realized it.
"Yeah?" Hormah perked and looked at her with interest.
"Yeah. We don't have all this organic life there, or any really marked seasons... wait." She lifted her head and frowned at the larger femme. "Haven't you ever seen Cybertron?"
"Nah, b'y," came the soft reply. "'E died afore I was ever after comin' online."
"Died?" Tracer was aghast.
"Aye." Hormah leaned over sideways and rested her head on Scarecrow, who was actually padded in places and thus fit for the job of pillow. "Primus sez 'e'll live agin... but right now tis empty exceptin' fer t' dead."
Tracer shuddered. "Where are the survivors?"
"Blackout's down t' Blue's drinkin'. Scattor's proly off somewheres in space. Bumblebee's on Eart' wit' 'er human friend, 'n Prime, Ratchet, 'n Ironhide're tryin' t' fix Cybertron."
"And the others?"
"Ain't no ot'ers, b'y. 'At's all as came t'rough in my reality."
"Your reality." Tracer's suspicions were confirmed. She'd stepped into one of Sideswipe's crumby sci fi shows.
"Aye." Hormah lifted her head. "We's after bein' in a Nexus 'tween worlds here, b'y."
The blue and silver femme dropped her leaves and then scooped them up again, asking herself how she would feel if she were one of a handful of survivors and her world were dead. Her immediate thoughts latched onto Red Alert, Inferno, and Hound as being among the survivors... and then stubbornly persisted on adding Trailblazer too. Her face heated and she inwardly cursed at everyones' insistence that she and the big black mech were a couple.
"Eh, b'y...." Hormah's voice broke hesitantly into her thoughts.
"Call me Tracer."
"Tracer... ye ever git t' likin' a mech?"
The Autobot blinked and scowled at the younger femme, wondering if she were some sort of mind reader. But then she saw the look of honest youthful inquiry and remembered Hormah's words about 'Rap', and looked back to her leaves. In this fairy world, surrounded by trees peacefully preparing for sleep, it didn't seem so odd suddenly to be talking to a little orange Decepticon with a strange energy signature.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "But he's just a friend."
"What's 'at mean?" Hormah turned onto her back to frown at the older femme.
"Just what I said. He's my friend. We're not together or anything."
"So... ye don't git t' hug 'im?"
"I can if I want."
"Sit on 'im if 'e falls down?"
"Sure." She thought wistfully of rare play sessions.
"Kiss 'im?"
"No."
Hormah looked at the expression on Tracer's face. "Maybe ye should. Tis good fer makin' ye feel better."
"Slag, not you too." The Autobot scowled at her.
Innocent confusion and some low deedlebeeping was the orange femme's reply.
Tracer blew air out her intakes and threw the leaves into the air, then checked for Hormah's brother and Beamrider and found them stretched in the sun and looking nearly into recharge. "Like I said. We're just friends."
Hormah, used to seeing her creator kiss any mech that pleased her fancy, lifted her brow ridges uncomprehendingly.
The Autobot scowled and got to her feet. "I'd better get back to base before someone tries hailing me and has a fit when I don't reply."
"Sure, b'y." Hormah sat up too, confused and uneasy at her lack of understanding as to what was bothering the other femme. "Ye take care."
Tracer blinked, then nodded a little stiffly. "Sure."
She took a last glance around, then pressed the button on her PINpoint and went home.