SpeedWrite fill
Title: The Cycle Continues.
Rating: K
Characters: Jazz, Blades, Soundwave
Universe: Any - Prewar
Summary: A near immortal planet doesn't hang around for its sun to explode - it moves from system to system, seeking new, young stars.
Prompt #1 Unexpected Light in Cybertron's Eternal night
The never-ending twilight overshadowed everything on Cybertron.
Older mecha could remember when their world circled a young bright sun so long ago - before their fuel needs and mining stripped the solar system of all useable compounds and every metal they could use. When the world Cybertron left, it vacated a stripped system, leaving only the husks of planets for the old, weary faint sun to swallow or tear apart in its death throws.
Energy needs were not yet desperate enough to fight over. The hoarded resources could continue to support the current population levels - for a time.
Jazz, Soundwave, Blades, Grimlock and many other visored mecha chattered as they wandered the dark ares of their home.
"Dark area's" Jazz shook his head in amusement. When Cybertron was interstellar, all of Cybertron was dark. The inhabitants clung to the oldest units of time, when their world was still warmed by natural sunlight, and half of the planet remained lit at all times - the 'light' half was awake, while the 'dark' side remained in recharge, simulating the long anticipated day/night phenomenon in the hopes their world would find a new sun to orbit.
Blades, flying above the ceramic canyons noticed it first. ::Anybody got a record on where the increased illumination is coming from?::
The patrollers cycled their visors, looking for frayed wires, open coonduits, oil leaks, and other signs of glitch-mice infestations or other pests.
At this time in the orn cycle, all sane mecha were in deep recharge, dropping all power usage to the barest trickle of flow.
If Blades saw some extraneous light, and it happened to be more severe than an unsecured lid or switch, the enforcers might have to be notified - theft of energon was a serous offence.
::Not down there!:: Blades exlaimed in exasperation. ::Up here - at the farthest edge of the atmosphere. It's glowing::
Jazz and most of the crew had no idea what Blades meant. Since when did the air itself glow with light? All illumiantion had a spark, a source.
Soundwave understood first. He broadcast the answer to the team - to all the Patroller teams in reach. ::Cybertron, nearing inhabitable system, preparing to enter orbit around life-giving sunlight.::
Title: Social media has noting on noticeboards!
Rating: K to K+
Characters: Reggie Simmons and Tom Banachek
Universe: Bayverse, Pre-2007 movie.
Summary: Simmons thinks he's up-to-date on everything that happens in the Sector 7 bases. Alas, he learns that Tom knows more about the day-to-day stuff.
Prompt #2 Bulletin Board
"What is this?" Reggie Simmons stared at the wall. This one wall was not bare metal, but had been completely covered in papers - one-sheets tacked or stapled so they remained on the wall.
Tom Banacheck didn't look up from his Personal Digital Assistance. "It's a corkboard.
"I know that!" snapped Simmons. "What I want to know is 'Who Authorized This'?"
"You did, sir."
Simmons’s jaw opened and closed five times before he was sure he could speak without shouting. "I do not recall authorizing a bulletin board.
Banacheck finally finished fiddling with his device. "You got tired of everyone claiming ignorance to prearranged mandated meetings and inspections."
"Yes, yes, yes. I remember my scathing words spoken to scientists who never read their emails and the technicians who forgot what the memos said. Your point?"
"You ordered me to take any extreme measures needed to make sure no one could claim 'they never knew' when you demanded updates and summaries on their progress." Tom did not whimper.
"Take it down." Simmons ordered. "All of it!" He tore the tacked-down papers, pulling at those that advertised 'room for rent', 'books for sale', 'lost-and-found' and more. "I won't have the entire base covered in junk."
"It's just the one wall,” Tom retorted, tossing the half shredded unnecessary updates and unwanted notices into the nearest recycle bin. "Just for a one month trial period."
"I don't care - we do not post our lives at work. Here, we are to be professional and organized - NOT this outside mess!"
Title: Instruction in the Proper Use Of
Rating: K to K+
Characters: Ratchet, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Smokescreen
Universe: TF Prime
Summary: ONce or twice might be forgiven, but when allies make a habit of ignoring warnings and recomendations ...
Prompt #3 Misused Tools
"Bulkhead! I needed that!" Ratchet yelled.
"Sorry, Ratchet,” The former Wrecker apologized.
"Sorry does not repair a thing." Grumbled the medic as he examined the tool. "How often do I have to tell you my tools are fragile?"
Bulkhead backed away. He did not want another lecture. So what if he forgot that earth equipment couldn't handle a simple grab and squeeze? Agent Fowler could just requisition a replacement part.
.....
"Wheeljack!" The white-and-orange Wrecker vented. "What now?"
Ratchet shoved a grenade into the mech's chassis. "No more hiding your explosives with my tools!" he ordered.
.....
"No touching!" Ratchet snapped when the newest earth arrival wandered about the medbay.
Smokescreen jumped back, hands held up in surrender. "Whoa, doc, what'd I do?"
Bumblebee warbled an explanation as Ratchet slambed the cabinet doors after making sure all his equipment was accounted for. "No borrowing of anything - is that clear?"
Smokescreen nodded an affirmative. "Really, Bee?" He asked, watched in astonishment as Ratchert locked the drawers.
Bumblebee nodded.
"So not my fault." Smokescreen gave it two seconds of thought. "It's everyone else's fault!" He danced gleefully. "Wait, how'd Arcee get on Ratchet's bad side?"
Title: Elimination of Potential Problems
Rating: Teens
Characters: Silas
Universe: TF Prime - Tag to Episode 'Human Factor'
Summary: New technology and new applications of old devices ususally have unforseen side effects, and may cause unseen glitches.
Prompt #4 Program Failure
Silas, wearing the armor components of the one called 'Breakdown' stepped over the slaughtered humans.
He had been detached as he killed them, learning to use his aiming and firing abilities gleefully, even as the very men and women who gave him this new body died under his lasers. Only now, that every single scientist and soldier of MECH lay dead under his feet, did Silas feel anything about their passing.
It was not regret that he killed them. It was not horror at watching them die. He was not appalled at how quickly he turned on the very people who rescued him from prison - no, what Silas felt was surprise. It came hard on the heals of the realization that no human alive knew how to repair him if something should happen to his new cybernetic body.
Silas exited the abattoir by making his own door. As he walked the only unmarked wall, the building collapsed behind him, burying the dead.
"Impressive” Silas examined the heads-up-display, ignoring the alien glyphs in favor of the English translations. "Do I have a flame thrower?" The human encased inside the metal frame cycled through every weapon, testing its effects on the charred-abandoned base.
Silas the human never noticed the programming of the deactivated decepticon invade his thoughts. He loved the destructive power of his newfound might.
No puny human could stop him now!
Slowly, the awareness that Autobots could stand against him, that the aliens working alongside Agent William Fowler would be able to stop him, peculated through Silas' brain.
"Perhaps I should align myself with the enemies of the bots," Silas mused. "And after those weaklings are taken care of, I can eradicate the Decepticons too."
The perfect meld of man and machine unknowingly arranged his own destruction. He had not learned to temper his ambition with patience, and having always been the top dog, he'd forgotten how to serve another.
Title: No Evidence
Rating: K
Characters: Seymour Simmons, Issac Sumdac, Leland Bishop, Buster Witwicky
Universe: Any - mix of G1, Prime, Animated, Bayverse
Summary: Potential interperations and meanings behind cryptic sentences can give everyone headaches.
Prompt #5 In the sign of ....
"In the sign of ..." The speaker's voice trailed off.
"Is that right?" Asked one of the listeners. "I thought it said 'In the sight of'."
"That makes no sense," complained someone else. "It is supposed to be 'in the key of'. In the key of what?"
"At least it's not in someone's side." Sighed Buster Witwicky. He recognized no one in this odd assortment of individuals -- all of them had been given a note written in Cybertronian. Only one sentence had been translated, and none of the assembled could agree on what the original meaning.
"You can't be serious!" shouted Seymour Simmons. He held onto the only sheet that defined Cybertronian glyphs in English definitions.
"Give me that!" snapped the doubter. "You must be reading the original wrong." Issac Sumdac did not trust others easily.
"I am sure it is the key to something important,” the man who's name was Leland Bishop suggested. "We need to find what the original note refers to.
Buster Witwicky sighed again. Who was it that said professionals and experts could work together to find the truth? He wanted to leave these bickering idiots, let them debate their own private theories, refusing to even listen to someone else's idea or suggestion.
Title: Every action impacts others.
Rating: K+
Characters: Originals and ??? surprise
Universe: Any Verse, PreWar.
Summary: Not every first encounter is a first meeting. - sometimes those encounters are remembered, sometimes the long-ago meetings are forgotten by all involved.
Prompt #6 Setting: a stowaway is caught
"Hey! Basenote, look at what I found!"
A sepia colored mech extracted himself from the engine he was trying to rebuild. "Scuttlebutt, if it’s another turborat, I am going to space you," he warned the too exuberant crewman.
Yellow optics stared at the dirty-white and black youngling. Yellow optics then focused on the slate colored mech holding the youngling captive.
"An unpaid for passenger," explained the mech who found the youngling.
The dirty youngling continued twisting, trying to escape from the too tight grasp.
"I can see that!" Basenote snapped. He hit the intercom button. "WhiteChord, get up here!"
Soon, the half dismantled, scattered engine parts bounced and clattered as two individuals ran up the deck plates.
"You rang, Captain?" Asked the black mech letting his cerulean optics scann the room, bypassing the three mecha.
Basenote scowled. "I called for just you. Not your infernal tag-along."
Oxblood optics tried to bore a hole in the sepia armor. Black servos blocked the smaller mech's view. "My protégé goes everywhere I go. May I inquire to the nature of our summons?" WhiteChord calmly asked.
Scuttlebutt snarled. "The problem is this!" He thrust the still struggling youngling forward, who yelped in pain.
"We warned you any undisclosed travelers would increase the transport fee by scades - first payment is now." Snarled the irate captain.
With one final cry, the nameless youngling escaped, darted into the nearest air vent before any could react.
Basenote bellowed "find that stowaway!" He charged off, pushing WhiteChord aside, ignoring the mess behind him. Scuttlebutt followed hard on the Captain’s heels.
WhiteChord lay stunned against the bulkhead. "I say, as long as that prowler's loose, we will be struck adrift en route. Shall we assist the captain, Bluegrass?"
Bluegrass, untouched by the passage of the two massive crew members shook his head. He removed an energon cube form his private cache, set it on the lip of the open air-vent. Turning his back to the too-tight ventilation system, he studied the worn, dirty parts scattered across the deck.
"I can fix this - faster than the illustrious BaseNote, and probably make it more efficient than it has been in vorns."
Black-framed WhiteChord carefully extracted himself from the corner he'd been shvoed in. "Just don't get caught."
"Of course not, sire" Oxblood optics dimmed, the mech pointedly ignored the energon cube just behind him.
"I mean it - don't let anyone notice you feeding the nameless prowler."
"He does have a designation - it's Prowler." A cheeky grin broke free on the indigo framed mec.
WhiteChord threw up his hands, muttering curses against cocky Polyhextron mechs in general, and undercover enforcers in particular. "Am I ever going to learn your real name?"
"Nope,” Bluegrass shot back. "You're safer not knowing."
Rating: K
Characters: Jazz, Blades, Soundwave
Universe: Any - Prewar
Summary: A near immortal planet doesn't hang around for its sun to explode - it moves from system to system, seeking new, young stars.
Prompt #1 Unexpected Light in Cybertron's Eternal night
The never-ending twilight overshadowed everything on Cybertron.
Older mecha could remember when their world circled a young bright sun so long ago - before their fuel needs and mining stripped the solar system of all useable compounds and every metal they could use. When the world Cybertron left, it vacated a stripped system, leaving only the husks of planets for the old, weary faint sun to swallow or tear apart in its death throws.
Energy needs were not yet desperate enough to fight over. The hoarded resources could continue to support the current population levels - for a time.
Jazz, Soundwave, Blades, Grimlock and many other visored mecha chattered as they wandered the dark ares of their home.
"Dark area's" Jazz shook his head in amusement. When Cybertron was interstellar, all of Cybertron was dark. The inhabitants clung to the oldest units of time, when their world was still warmed by natural sunlight, and half of the planet remained lit at all times - the 'light' half was awake, while the 'dark' side remained in recharge, simulating the long anticipated day/night phenomenon in the hopes their world would find a new sun to orbit.
Blades, flying above the ceramic canyons noticed it first. ::Anybody got a record on where the increased illumination is coming from?::
The patrollers cycled their visors, looking for frayed wires, open coonduits, oil leaks, and other signs of glitch-mice infestations or other pests.
At this time in the orn cycle, all sane mecha were in deep recharge, dropping all power usage to the barest trickle of flow.
If Blades saw some extraneous light, and it happened to be more severe than an unsecured lid or switch, the enforcers might have to be notified - theft of energon was a serous offence.
::Not down there!:: Blades exlaimed in exasperation. ::Up here - at the farthest edge of the atmosphere. It's glowing::
Jazz and most of the crew had no idea what Blades meant. Since when did the air itself glow with light? All illumiantion had a spark, a source.
Soundwave understood first. He broadcast the answer to the team - to all the Patroller teams in reach. ::Cybertron, nearing inhabitable system, preparing to enter orbit around life-giving sunlight.::
Title: Social media has noting on noticeboards!
Rating: K to K+
Characters: Reggie Simmons and Tom Banachek
Universe: Bayverse, Pre-2007 movie.
Summary: Simmons thinks he's up-to-date on everything that happens in the Sector 7 bases. Alas, he learns that Tom knows more about the day-to-day stuff.
Prompt #2 Bulletin Board
"What is this?" Reggie Simmons stared at the wall. This one wall was not bare metal, but had been completely covered in papers - one-sheets tacked or stapled so they remained on the wall.
Tom Banacheck didn't look up from his Personal Digital Assistance. "It's a corkboard.
"I know that!" snapped Simmons. "What I want to know is 'Who Authorized This'?"
"You did, sir."
Simmons’s jaw opened and closed five times before he was sure he could speak without shouting. "I do not recall authorizing a bulletin board.
Banacheck finally finished fiddling with his device. "You got tired of everyone claiming ignorance to prearranged mandated meetings and inspections."
"Yes, yes, yes. I remember my scathing words spoken to scientists who never read their emails and the technicians who forgot what the memos said. Your point?"
"You ordered me to take any extreme measures needed to make sure no one could claim 'they never knew' when you demanded updates and summaries on their progress." Tom did not whimper.
"Take it down." Simmons ordered. "All of it!" He tore the tacked-down papers, pulling at those that advertised 'room for rent', 'books for sale', 'lost-and-found' and more. "I won't have the entire base covered in junk."
"It's just the one wall,” Tom retorted, tossing the half shredded unnecessary updates and unwanted notices into the nearest recycle bin. "Just for a one month trial period."
"I don't care - we do not post our lives at work. Here, we are to be professional and organized - NOT this outside mess!"
Title: Instruction in the Proper Use Of
Rating: K to K+
Characters: Ratchet, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Smokescreen
Universe: TF Prime
Summary: ONce or twice might be forgiven, but when allies make a habit of ignoring warnings and recomendations ...
Prompt #3 Misused Tools
"Bulkhead! I needed that!" Ratchet yelled.
"Sorry, Ratchet,” The former Wrecker apologized.
"Sorry does not repair a thing." Grumbled the medic as he examined the tool. "How often do I have to tell you my tools are fragile?"
Bulkhead backed away. He did not want another lecture. So what if he forgot that earth equipment couldn't handle a simple grab and squeeze? Agent Fowler could just requisition a replacement part.
.....
"Wheeljack!" The white-and-orange Wrecker vented. "What now?"
Ratchet shoved a grenade into the mech's chassis. "No more hiding your explosives with my tools!" he ordered.
.....
"No touching!" Ratchet snapped when the newest earth arrival wandered about the medbay.
Smokescreen jumped back, hands held up in surrender. "Whoa, doc, what'd I do?"
Bumblebee warbled an explanation as Ratchet slambed the cabinet doors after making sure all his equipment was accounted for. "No borrowing of anything - is that clear?"
Smokescreen nodded an affirmative. "Really, Bee?" He asked, watched in astonishment as Ratchert locked the drawers.
Bumblebee nodded.
"So not my fault." Smokescreen gave it two seconds of thought. "It's everyone else's fault!" He danced gleefully. "Wait, how'd Arcee get on Ratchet's bad side?"
Title: Elimination of Potential Problems
Rating: Teens
Characters: Silas
Universe: TF Prime - Tag to Episode 'Human Factor'
Summary: New technology and new applications of old devices ususally have unforseen side effects, and may cause unseen glitches.
Prompt #4 Program Failure
Silas, wearing the armor components of the one called 'Breakdown' stepped over the slaughtered humans.
He had been detached as he killed them, learning to use his aiming and firing abilities gleefully, even as the very men and women who gave him this new body died under his lasers. Only now, that every single scientist and soldier of MECH lay dead under his feet, did Silas feel anything about their passing.
It was not regret that he killed them. It was not horror at watching them die. He was not appalled at how quickly he turned on the very people who rescued him from prison - no, what Silas felt was surprise. It came hard on the heals of the realization that no human alive knew how to repair him if something should happen to his new cybernetic body.
Silas exited the abattoir by making his own door. As he walked the only unmarked wall, the building collapsed behind him, burying the dead.
"Impressive” Silas examined the heads-up-display, ignoring the alien glyphs in favor of the English translations. "Do I have a flame thrower?" The human encased inside the metal frame cycled through every weapon, testing its effects on the charred-abandoned base.
Silas the human never noticed the programming of the deactivated decepticon invade his thoughts. He loved the destructive power of his newfound might.
No puny human could stop him now!
Slowly, the awareness that Autobots could stand against him, that the aliens working alongside Agent William Fowler would be able to stop him, peculated through Silas' brain.
"Perhaps I should align myself with the enemies of the bots," Silas mused. "And after those weaklings are taken care of, I can eradicate the Decepticons too."
The perfect meld of man and machine unknowingly arranged his own destruction. He had not learned to temper his ambition with patience, and having always been the top dog, he'd forgotten how to serve another.
Title: No Evidence
Rating: K
Characters: Seymour Simmons, Issac Sumdac, Leland Bishop, Buster Witwicky
Universe: Any - mix of G1, Prime, Animated, Bayverse
Summary: Potential interperations and meanings behind cryptic sentences can give everyone headaches.
Prompt #5 In the sign of ....
"In the sign of ..." The speaker's voice trailed off.
"Is that right?" Asked one of the listeners. "I thought it said 'In the sight of'."
"That makes no sense," complained someone else. "It is supposed to be 'in the key of'. In the key of what?"
"At least it's not in someone's side." Sighed Buster Witwicky. He recognized no one in this odd assortment of individuals -- all of them had been given a note written in Cybertronian. Only one sentence had been translated, and none of the assembled could agree on what the original meaning.
"You can't be serious!" shouted Seymour Simmons. He held onto the only sheet that defined Cybertronian glyphs in English definitions.
"Give me that!" snapped the doubter. "You must be reading the original wrong." Issac Sumdac did not trust others easily.
"I am sure it is the key to something important,” the man who's name was Leland Bishop suggested. "We need to find what the original note refers to.
Buster Witwicky sighed again. Who was it that said professionals and experts could work together to find the truth? He wanted to leave these bickering idiots, let them debate their own private theories, refusing to even listen to someone else's idea or suggestion.
Title: Every action impacts others.
Rating: K+
Characters: Originals and ??? surprise
Universe: Any Verse, PreWar.
Summary: Not every first encounter is a first meeting. - sometimes those encounters are remembered, sometimes the long-ago meetings are forgotten by all involved.
Prompt #6 Setting: a stowaway is caught
"Hey! Basenote, look at what I found!"
A sepia colored mech extracted himself from the engine he was trying to rebuild. "Scuttlebutt, if it’s another turborat, I am going to space you," he warned the too exuberant crewman.
Yellow optics stared at the dirty-white and black youngling. Yellow optics then focused on the slate colored mech holding the youngling captive.
"An unpaid for passenger," explained the mech who found the youngling.
The dirty youngling continued twisting, trying to escape from the too tight grasp.
"I can see that!" Basenote snapped. He hit the intercom button. "WhiteChord, get up here!"
Soon, the half dismantled, scattered engine parts bounced and clattered as two individuals ran up the deck plates.
"You rang, Captain?" Asked the black mech letting his cerulean optics scann the room, bypassing the three mecha.
Basenote scowled. "I called for just you. Not your infernal tag-along."
Oxblood optics tried to bore a hole in the sepia armor. Black servos blocked the smaller mech's view. "My protégé goes everywhere I go. May I inquire to the nature of our summons?" WhiteChord calmly asked.
Scuttlebutt snarled. "The problem is this!" He thrust the still struggling youngling forward, who yelped in pain.
"We warned you any undisclosed travelers would increase the transport fee by scades - first payment is now." Snarled the irate captain.
With one final cry, the nameless youngling escaped, darted into the nearest air vent before any could react.
Basenote bellowed "find that stowaway!" He charged off, pushing WhiteChord aside, ignoring the mess behind him. Scuttlebutt followed hard on the Captain’s heels.
WhiteChord lay stunned against the bulkhead. "I say, as long as that prowler's loose, we will be struck adrift en route. Shall we assist the captain, Bluegrass?"
Bluegrass, untouched by the passage of the two massive crew members shook his head. He removed an energon cube form his private cache, set it on the lip of the open air-vent. Turning his back to the too-tight ventilation system, he studied the worn, dirty parts scattered across the deck.
"I can fix this - faster than the illustrious BaseNote, and probably make it more efficient than it has been in vorns."
Black-framed WhiteChord carefully extracted himself from the corner he'd been shvoed in. "Just don't get caught."
"Of course not, sire" Oxblood optics dimmed, the mech pointedly ignored the energon cube just behind him.
"I mean it - don't let anyone notice you feeding the nameless prowler."
"He does have a designation - it's Prowler." A cheeky grin broke free on the indigo framed mec.
WhiteChord threw up his hands, muttering curses against cocky Polyhextron mechs in general, and undercover enforcers in particular. "Am I ever going to learn your real name?"
"Nope,” Bluegrass shot back. "You're safer not knowing."