(no subject)
Title: Devastating Results
Characters: Bumblebee, Perceptor, SKyfire
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K+
Summary: “All-eggs-in-one-basket” situation can have some pretty serious consequences when things go wrong.
Prompt # 4: Scenario: a character is miniaturized
“You know,” Bumblebee commented to no one in particular. “I’m used to being one of the smallest bots. Not one of the biggest.”
Perceptor stared up at the normal-sized Bumblebee. “Indeed. This change of perspective is quite disorienting.” He and his lab partner turned back to the broken device that had caused them to shrink. “How are you unaffected? All other Ark inhabitants have shrunk.”
The yellow Volkswagen beetle shrugged. He wasn’t a scientist. He didn’t have a possible explanation.
Skyfire, who currently stood no taller than the average human, answered Perceptor. “Bumblebee wasn’t on base when this finicky contraption went off.”
Title: Tough Task
Characters: Jazz, Daniel Witwicky
Universe: Generation 1 (post season 3?)
Rating: K+
Summary: Brainstorming works better when there is a friend or two to help bounce ideas back and forth
Prompt #3 An unsent letter.
“What’s the matter, Daniel?” Jazz approached the Witwicky kid.
Daniel fiddled with the computer tablet. “School assignment,” he muttered, too low for any human to make out.
The silver Autobot heard and understood the quiet (almost whispered) response. Daniel knew had - there was no point for Jazz to say, “Speak up lad. I didn’t catch that.” Jazz knew Daniel had spoken at that volume on purpose.
Instead, Jazz asked, “What’s so hard about this bit of homework?”
“Supposed to write a letter to my parents - I never write letters! I always talk to them.”
“Ah,” Jazz sat down in the sun, next to the table Daniel had scattered his closed school books across. “Pretend you have a question for Carly, only she’s not there to answer it.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Did that - one sentence is not a letter.”
“Hmm, have you considered telling Carly how your day went?”
“After school, all the time!”
“Write it down.” Jazz tapped the top of the electronic pad. “Instead of talking verbally, you write.”
Daniel perked up. Started speaking into the device. He smiled as typed words began rolling across the screen. Mouthed “Thanks.”
Title: Catching up
Characters: Spike Witiwicky
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K+
Summary: Losing family is hard - it is not unusual to find people speaking to the dead as if they are still around, able to answer back.
Prompt #6 Challenge: Random Generator - ‘Write an unsent letter to mother’
Spike Witwicky stared at the lined blank paper in front of him and the black-inked pen in hand.
The pen hovered over the paper, not quite touching.
Then, almost as if in a trance, Spike put the pen to paper and began to scribble. First hesitantly, then faster, as the words festering in his brain began to pour out, first slowly, then more rapidly.
Dear mother, (it’s me your son Spike)
You died when I was quite young, so you might not recognize me.
Dad still misses you a lot. I know it’s been almost sixteen years, but …
So do I, even thought I don’t remember you.
I do have the stories dad shares with me - and the pictures too - but they don’t fill the place in my heart where you should go.
It’s been a while since I lost wrote.
Most kids I know who’ve lost family - a mother, a father, a grandparent, an older sister, a younger brother, a close cousin, an aunt/uncle, or even best friend - got to the grave site to talk. Figured I could do that later, next time we drive through hometown.
Just wanted to let you know what’s been happening in my life lately - Dad took me with him to work on the oil rig and it wasn’t boring like he warned me it might be …
Title: Listening In
Characters: Smokescreen, Wheeljack,
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K
Summary: Conversations spoken in the Rec Room will be overheard by mechs at nearby tables - which is why this setting was chosen for an experiment.
Prompt: Smokescreen/Wheeljack - Test Subject
“Wheeljack, could I bother you for a moment?”
“Sure, Smokescreen.” The inventor drained his ration. “Not busy at the moment.”
The Praxian sat in the empty chair across from Wheeljack. “On a scale from one to five, how do you feel the war effort is doing?” Both mechs ignored the nearby slumped, weary figure of Ratchet.
Earfins flashed dully. “That’s the question that’s been bugging you for eons?”
“Wheeljack.”
“One - what war effort? It’s become a total civil war, Autobots verses Decepticions, with no supply lines, no reinforcements, no plan to restore home.
“Two, there are no civilians who care anymore - no neutrals to protect.
“Three, I might be okay with everything if mechs would stop sabotaging my non-vital experiments and the prototypes that aren’t weapons or can’t be converted to weaponry.
“Four, this civil war is death incarnate. Destroying everything it touches
“Point five …. My fifth complaint about the war ….. I can’t think of a fifth point.”
Smokescreen had a hard time repressing a chuckle. “Let’s try this again.” Smokescreen settled for glaring angrily. “On a scale of one to five - one is where you strongly agree, five you adamantly disagree - has the war helped us?”
“Us, as in all of Cybertronians?” Wheeljack smiled underneath his mask. “Or us as in Autobots. Or did you mean ‘us the survivors’?”
“Wheeljack!”
“What? You didn’t specify the who, which disqualifies the whole question.” Wheeljack defended himself.
As Smokescreen and Wheeljack tried to properly fill out a simple survey, Ratchet found himself relaxing. His twin had been right. The medics did need to get outside the medbay once in a while, and interact with the crew on occasion.
Ratchet especially needed to be reminded that he saved lives on a daily basis - that his efforts were not in vain.
Title: Helping Out
Characters: Smokescreen, Wheeljack
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K
Summary: Volunteered to assist Wheeljack is not a death sentence - visiting the medic afterwards is not mandatory either, if one manages to leave before the inevitable happens.
Prompt: Smokescreen/Wheeljack - Test Subject
“Here, hold this for me.”
Smokescreen stared at the bouncy ball deposited in his hand. “What is this supposed to do?”
Wheeljack continued digging through the stuffed crammed into a too small storage space underneath the lab table.
“That thing? Nothing - it’s a rubber ball Chip left behind one day. I keep meaning to give it back, never do.” The blue and white Autobot pulled something else out of the tangled, twisted pile of stuff. “Hold this too.”
Smokescreen accepted the lamp-and-cord with less hesitation and outright suspicion. The ball rolled on his open palm. “And this?”
“Burnt out light fixture Sparkplug started to fix, the last time he was here.” Wheeljack’s earfins flushed, lighting up the darkest corners underneath his work station. “Can you carry this too?”
Smokescreen backed away from the tube. “Is that dynamite?”
“No, just a tungsten rod painted black.” Wheeljack held out the round slab.
“I’d feel more comfortable if it was supposed to be a stick of TNT.” Smokescreen accepted the metal rod.
After extracting himself, Wheeljack stood up. “Thank you.” Took the three items from Smokescreen’s waiting hands.
Smokescreen allowed the inventor to take them without fuss or question. “That’s it?” He was slightly there was no boom or threat of a boom.
“Well,” Wheeljack looked at the disarray of the projects he wasn’t currently working on. “I could use some help in organizing everything.
“Bye.” Smokescreen vanished so quickly he appeared to have teleported out.
Characters: Bumblebee, Perceptor, SKyfire
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K+
Summary: “All-eggs-in-one-basket” situation can have some pretty serious consequences when things go wrong.
Prompt # 4: Scenario: a character is miniaturized
“You know,” Bumblebee commented to no one in particular. “I’m used to being one of the smallest bots. Not one of the biggest.”
Perceptor stared up at the normal-sized Bumblebee. “Indeed. This change of perspective is quite disorienting.” He and his lab partner turned back to the broken device that had caused them to shrink. “How are you unaffected? All other Ark inhabitants have shrunk.”
The yellow Volkswagen beetle shrugged. He wasn’t a scientist. He didn’t have a possible explanation.
Skyfire, who currently stood no taller than the average human, answered Perceptor. “Bumblebee wasn’t on base when this finicky contraption went off.”
Title: Tough Task
Characters: Jazz, Daniel Witwicky
Universe: Generation 1 (post season 3?)
Rating: K+
Summary: Brainstorming works better when there is a friend or two to help bounce ideas back and forth
Prompt #3 An unsent letter.
“What’s the matter, Daniel?” Jazz approached the Witwicky kid.
Daniel fiddled with the computer tablet. “School assignment,” he muttered, too low for any human to make out.
The silver Autobot heard and understood the quiet (almost whispered) response. Daniel knew had - there was no point for Jazz to say, “Speak up lad. I didn’t catch that.” Jazz knew Daniel had spoken at that volume on purpose.
Instead, Jazz asked, “What’s so hard about this bit of homework?”
“Supposed to write a letter to my parents - I never write letters! I always talk to them.”
“Ah,” Jazz sat down in the sun, next to the table Daniel had scattered his closed school books across. “Pretend you have a question for Carly, only she’s not there to answer it.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Did that - one sentence is not a letter.”
“Hmm, have you considered telling Carly how your day went?”
“After school, all the time!”
“Write it down.” Jazz tapped the top of the electronic pad. “Instead of talking verbally, you write.”
Daniel perked up. Started speaking into the device. He smiled as typed words began rolling across the screen. Mouthed “Thanks.”
Title: Catching up
Characters: Spike Witiwicky
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K+
Summary: Losing family is hard - it is not unusual to find people speaking to the dead as if they are still around, able to answer back.
Prompt #6 Challenge: Random Generator - ‘Write an unsent letter to mother’
Spike Witwicky stared at the lined blank paper in front of him and the black-inked pen in hand.
The pen hovered over the paper, not quite touching.
Then, almost as if in a trance, Spike put the pen to paper and began to scribble. First hesitantly, then faster, as the words festering in his brain began to pour out, first slowly, then more rapidly.
Dear mother, (it’s me your son Spike)
You died when I was quite young, so you might not recognize me.
Dad still misses you a lot. I know it’s been almost sixteen years, but …
So do I, even thought I don’t remember you.
I do have the stories dad shares with me - and the pictures too - but they don’t fill the place in my heart where you should go.
It’s been a while since I lost wrote.
Most kids I know who’ve lost family - a mother, a father, a grandparent, an older sister, a younger brother, a close cousin, an aunt/uncle, or even best friend - got to the grave site to talk. Figured I could do that later, next time we drive through hometown.
Just wanted to let you know what’s been happening in my life lately - Dad took me with him to work on the oil rig and it wasn’t boring like he warned me it might be …
Title: Listening In
Characters: Smokescreen, Wheeljack,
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K
Summary: Conversations spoken in the Rec Room will be overheard by mechs at nearby tables - which is why this setting was chosen for an experiment.
Prompt: Smokescreen/Wheeljack - Test Subject
“Wheeljack, could I bother you for a moment?”
“Sure, Smokescreen.” The inventor drained his ration. “Not busy at the moment.”
The Praxian sat in the empty chair across from Wheeljack. “On a scale from one to five, how do you feel the war effort is doing?” Both mechs ignored the nearby slumped, weary figure of Ratchet.
Earfins flashed dully. “That’s the question that’s been bugging you for eons?”
“Wheeljack.”
“One - what war effort? It’s become a total civil war, Autobots verses Decepticions, with no supply lines, no reinforcements, no plan to restore home.
“Two, there are no civilians who care anymore - no neutrals to protect.
“Three, I might be okay with everything if mechs would stop sabotaging my non-vital experiments and the prototypes that aren’t weapons or can’t be converted to weaponry.
“Four, this civil war is death incarnate. Destroying everything it touches
“Point five …. My fifth complaint about the war ….. I can’t think of a fifth point.”
Smokescreen had a hard time repressing a chuckle. “Let’s try this again.” Smokescreen settled for glaring angrily. “On a scale of one to five - one is where you strongly agree, five you adamantly disagree - has the war helped us?”
“Us, as in all of Cybertronians?” Wheeljack smiled underneath his mask. “Or us as in Autobots. Or did you mean ‘us the survivors’?”
“Wheeljack!”
“What? You didn’t specify the who, which disqualifies the whole question.” Wheeljack defended himself.
As Smokescreen and Wheeljack tried to properly fill out a simple survey, Ratchet found himself relaxing. His twin had been right. The medics did need to get outside the medbay once in a while, and interact with the crew on occasion.
Ratchet especially needed to be reminded that he saved lives on a daily basis - that his efforts were not in vain.
Title: Helping Out
Characters: Smokescreen, Wheeljack
Universe: Generation 1
Rating: K
Summary: Volunteered to assist Wheeljack is not a death sentence - visiting the medic afterwards is not mandatory either, if one manages to leave before the inevitable happens.
Prompt: Smokescreen/Wheeljack - Test Subject
“Here, hold this for me.”
Smokescreen stared at the bouncy ball deposited in his hand. “What is this supposed to do?”
Wheeljack continued digging through the stuffed crammed into a too small storage space underneath the lab table.
“That thing? Nothing - it’s a rubber ball Chip left behind one day. I keep meaning to give it back, never do.” The blue and white Autobot pulled something else out of the tangled, twisted pile of stuff. “Hold this too.”
Smokescreen accepted the lamp-and-cord with less hesitation and outright suspicion. The ball rolled on his open palm. “And this?”
“Burnt out light fixture Sparkplug started to fix, the last time he was here.” Wheeljack’s earfins flushed, lighting up the darkest corners underneath his work station. “Can you carry this too?”
Smokescreen backed away from the tube. “Is that dynamite?”
“No, just a tungsten rod painted black.” Wheeljack held out the round slab.
“I’d feel more comfortable if it was supposed to be a stick of TNT.” Smokescreen accepted the metal rod.
After extracting himself, Wheeljack stood up. “Thank you.” Took the three items from Smokescreen’s waiting hands.
Smokescreen allowed the inventor to take them without fuss or question. “That’s it?” He was slightly there was no boom or threat of a boom.
“Well,” Wheeljack looked at the disarray of the projects he wasn’t currently working on. “I could use some help in organizing everything.
“Bye.” Smokescreen vanished so quickly he appeared to have teleported out.