Four long pieces
Title: One chance, no mistakes
T-Verse: Bayverse
Rating: K+
Characters: Bumblebee, Chromia
Summary: Time is of the essence - yet being noticed or capture here means failure for the operation. There will be no back-up missions.
Prompt: Bumblebee/Chromia - Infiltration
The Decepticon citadel, in all its dark glory, filled the horizon. From left to right no other building dared encroached on the mausoleum. Not one mech appeared to move.
A yellow scout, paint-job and color disguised by a molted layer of soot and metallic smog, paused, waiting for visual confirmation that his chosen egress into the formidable prison remained unwatched.
Maybe the Decepticons didn’t know who they’d captured last battle the previous orn. An unlikely event, but possible - not every Autobot had a dossier.
Satisfied that the window was not under surveillance - for now - the young fighter moved forward, aming not for the make-shift door, but the shadows and crevices between him and that entrance.
The trip went agonizingly slow, but no wandering guards, no fly-over patrols, picked up on his approach. Once inside, paradoxically, the going went faster. Supposedly, no enemy infiltrators could get this close to the hierarchy, therefore the guards and wardens weren’t on the lookout for enemy spies. Saboteurs from their own ranks, yes, but not enemy action.
Bumblebee straightened from his crouch. Boldly made his way down to the lower levels of the prison. He was here for one particulare prisoner, but if he had to engineer a jailbreak to escape with his target, he would - in fact, he’d probably give all the prisoners a chance to escape regardless.
His steps down to the lowest dungeoun couldn’t quite be called a swagger, but the imitation came pretty close.
“Chromia.” Bumblebee spotted the one he was the lookout for. And a few others. “Chromia.”
The pastel blue femme and her cohort of fellow prisoners rebooted their otics. One drifted right back into recharge, energy levels too low to remain online for long.
“Bumblebee?” Chromia strolled to the bars. “How’d you get here?”
“The ususal way.” The yellow bot grinned. “You ready to blow this joint?”
“More than ready - got room for a few tag-alongs?”
“The more the merrier.” Bumblebee tossed his spare energon cubes to her waiting hands. “Drink up, while I unlock.” He opened up the control panel, fiddled with the controls.
Chromia made sure the vermillion femme, the sepia femme, and the others got a mouthful of fuel, before sipping some her self - the remainder went to the chartreuse femme struggling to remain online.
Unable to hack the code, Bumblebee resorted to a virus given to him by Tarclamp.
One last flicker and all the energon bars - not just the ones on this cell -went out. “Times up.”
Chromia and Jesturia lifted Limpeta between them. “Lead the way.”
Bumblebee ledt at a slow trot - his audios picked up the fact every unsecured prisoner capable of movement was taking advantage of this opportunity to flle. The chaos caused by their flight would buy Chromia and the other femmes more time.
If he had the opportinuity to cover the retreat of others, Bumblebee would. It did not seem right to him, to use them, and not help them in return - especially since recapture would breath their last hold on hope.
Chromia, Jesturia, Limpeta (able to move on her own by this time), and the others, made it to the escape shuttle.
Title: Auto-Berserk rewrite
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: Teens
Characters: Inferno, Soundwave
Summary: What if Megatron had taken advantage of the opportunity to pick an officer’s processor’s before abandoning the site, when he had the clear advantage in mobility and reach?
Prompt #1 (June 5th) - CHALLENGE: - Choose a cannon scene, change on thing. Retell it from a different character’s perspective. (Auto-Berserk)
The Negavator mishap began as a route - Autobots successfully deflecting all attacks away from the bunker where the control room was encased.
Then, one of the misaimed missiles struck an unstable rock outcrop, and all defending Autobots -baring one -were buried in the rubble.
That sole free enemy fighter proved to be a security officer, not a frontline warrior, or a back-up sniper, or an emergency medic.
Megatron gave the order right before he commanded a retreat.
Starscream, surprisingly, followed both demands without complaint, backtalk or sub vocal grumbling.
A trapped Inferno watched helplessly as his friend was carried off. “Red!”
Red Alert did not care for his sudden capture or the unwanted lift to the Decepticon base - yet because his logic chips were affected by the sneak-attack and subsequent landslide, he could not tell friend from foe, and thus did not struggle to escape capture while there remained a chance he would be found relatively uninjured from a sudden, uncontrollable fall.
“Ironhide! We have got to rescue Red Alert!” Inferno refused to remain still while his friend - the mech it had been his duty to protect and guard - remained trapped in enemy servos.
“Relax, mech, I can cut you loose faster, if ya’ stop moving around!” Ironhide patiently, laboriously, dug out Inferno, Optimus Prime, and the others. The extraction process would have gone faster if Ironhide had had help, but it wouldn’t have happened at all if Ironhide had been covered in rocky debris like everyone else present for the Negavator’s trial run.
Once free, Inferno transformed, began chasing the long-gone Decepticons and their prisoner. He ignored Ironhide’s demands to say and help free the entombed command officers. Much later, days after his misguided attempt to single-handed free his friend, Inferno, driving on fumes, entered the Ark, collapsed form exhaustion before reaching the first corner on the long trek to the recharge billets.
“I failed you, Red. I am so sorry.”
Meanwhile, back in Decepticon headquarters, Soundwave experienced a novelty - a processor ache. Dealing with his rambunctious cassettes he could handle. Anticipating Starscrem’s lackluster attempts to double-cross Megatron was child’s play. Taking care of Dead End, or soothing the fried processors of a paranoid Breakdown … that he left to their gestalts. Adding Red Alert to the mix of crazies, and nothing ran smoothly. Red Alert’s paranoia proved less controllable - he didn’t have a gestalt to monitor his behavior and attitudes - yet more predictable than Breakdown’s - the Autobot was suspicious of everything and everyone. All motives had to have an ulterior cause.
Suffering from a processor ache, Soundwave carefully approached Megatron.
“Well? What information has been extracted from our Autobot guest?”
Soundwave vented. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Megatron rose out of his throne, towering over all standing mechs. “I give you seven days to figure out the Security Officer’s encryption codes, and you come up with nothing?” The Decepticon Lord Protectorate stepped down from his elevated platform. “Maybe I should give your pet to Vortex. Or Shockwave. They’ll have no trouble clearing out shattered firewalls.”
“Firewalls, nonexistent.” Soundwave explained patiently. “Processors, scattered-brained. No stable connections. Recommendation: return to Autobots.”
“But he is functional.”
“Damaged in processors.”
Silence.
“I see no reason to keep the security officer any longer - his purpose is ended.” Megatron turned around. “Dispose of him, however you will.”
Listening in, Starscream scoffed. “If it were up to me, I’d tear the useless drone into pieces before scattering the remains where his good friends will never find them.”
Unseen, unobserved by Soundave or his always-present - usually hidden in ductwork - cassettes, Red Alert backed away, trembling.
He knew it! Everyone was out to get him! He wondered if it were possible to cause Autobot war devices and protype weapons to explode on demand (like he’d been working to do on Decepticon stuff). He needed to get rid of the Negavator.
Title: Forced edits
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: Teen
Characters: Soundwave, Ratchet, Perceptor
Summary: Missing scene from ‘Cosmic Rust’ - Soundwave is gifted at overwriting even the most private of memories, and takes an opportunity to throw the Autobot forces into chaos.
Prompt June 5th #1 - Change one thing from established Canon.
While Perceptor reluctantly, perhaps foolishly, extracted every drop of corrostop form his lines and portable flasks in an effort to prevent Hook, the Construcitcons, and the rest of the Decepticon army from deactivating from an almost forgotten metallic plague, which, if left unchecked, would devastate all mechanical life, Megatron played with the recently excavated weapon dubbed ‘Lightning Bug’ by Astrotrain.
Once Astrotrain, the last of the affected lot, but not the worst off, Megatron raised the weapon, aimed it at the every helpful scientist. “Thank you for curing my troops - hope you left enough to cure yourself.” He pressed down on the trigger.
Before the ancient device fired one final time, Soundwave stepped forward. “Query, download of relevant information permitted?”
“Have you ever found anything worth extracting from a theoretical-focused scientist?” Megatron non-the-less lowered the device. “Leave him intact enough so the misguided fools will attempt a rescue.”
Soundwave turned to Perceptor, extended a data-cable, plugged into the base of the Autobot processors.
Perceptor struggled valiantly to retain secrets - technological advances he did manage to retain, along with top secret clearance codes, and private communications with Earth’s leaders, scientists, and more. Thrown off balance by the lack of attack, he almost missed what Soundwave was after.
Megatron watched as Perceptor and Soundwave were locked in a battle of wills. He waited, knowing extractions took time - and results varied depending on how intact they wanted the victim at the end. A broken processor was much easier to disguise than a broken body.
Soundwave’s ruthless, relentless attack overwhelmed the weary, meager defenses. Task done, Soundwave unplugged himself, respooling the datacables. “Orders, Megatron?” (Perceptor collapsed, unaware of the events happening in his vicinity).
“You successfully turned one of Primes most stubbornly loyal followers against him? I am impressed.” He raised the ancient cannon, uncaring that continued use would kill him - as long as it killed the Autobots, he could handle some indignity and setback. “Unfortunately, the trap needs to be set, and I have no other live bait.” Megatron fired, infecting Perceptor.
An unconscious Perceptor was put into position. Tied down and doomed. He was helpless to prevent Optimus Prime from risking himself to save a doomed soldier. All went well until it came time for the debriefing - led by Prowl.
The metallic plague’s threat was gone, the Lightning Bug destroyed, Lady Liberty undamaged during the furious battle. New York and its millions of inhabitants had recovered form the visit of Autobots and Decepticons.
Ratchet, Hoist, and the rest of the medics had fixed all battle-damage, were finally given a chance to relax and enjoy the rare tiems when all mad-bays were empty of wounded allies, when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker hauled a furious Perceptor to a medical booth.
“What now?” Ratchet hauld himself up.
Sideswipe securely latchet Perceptor’s flailing limbs to the tabletop. “Don’t know - Percetpor here took one look at Prowl, went berserk; claiming our favorite tactician is the Decepticon second-in-command.”
Ratchet raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Where’s Prime real second-in command? I demand to see Soundwave, not the infiltrator!”
The eyebrow went back down and an expressionless visage crossed Ratchet’s face.
“Can you fix this?” Sunstreaker asked “He almost deactivated Prowl before he could pull him off.”
“It will take some time.” Ratchet didn’t attempt to shoo either of the brothers out. If Perceptor had been brainwashed into believing Soundwave as an Autobot, Prowl, an con, there was no way to tell if other officers had been similarly replaced by enemy counterparts. “I hate it when Soundwave plays with memories.”
Title: Transfixed.
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: K
Characters: Ravage, Steeljaw
Summary: Megatron was not satisfied with one failed attempt at controlling magical elements - he will find a way of harnessing the power!
Prompt 13th Aug 2011 IMAGE
Two metal felines prowled a dusty castle. “Any idea where we are?”
Ravage hissed.
Steeljaw took on offense. “This place looks abandoned.” And Old he just as carefully did not say.
One Autobot cassette, one Decepticon cassette, wandered in the dark, empty castle walls. Occasionally, one or the other lifted his head, scanning the still-life paintings, or empty suits of armor, not convinced all was, as it appeared to be.
“Creepy.” Steeljaw commented the hundredth time he thought he some one of the painted images or chain-mail suit move. “What was it about this particular empty castle in Scotland that drew Megatron’s attention anyway?”
Ravage paused before a stone-stair case. His ears flicked back and forth.
Steeljaw joined him at the landing. Peered down. “Huh. Should be more rubble or more stair sets.” He looked up. “Shall we explore the top level, work our way down?”
Ravage’s ears never stopped swiveling. He extended a claw, marked an X on the stone, bounded upwards. Steeljaw had no choice, but to follow.
An hour of searching for a window, an egress to the outside, a door that actually opened, a crack they could use to escape fro the heart of a castle who’s limited stairwells shifted locations at random, blocking all efforts to escape, the two felines found a room free from the watchful paintings, haunted chain mail.
This room proved empty of all, scans a mirror in the center. The silvery glass had an inscription in the metal support.
“ERISED STRAH RUOYW OHSI” Steeljaw read the carved letters, uncomprehendingly. He bumped Ravage ho was staring captivated by his reflective image. “Just a carnival mirror.”
Shoving Ravage aside Steeljaw happened to glance at his reflection. He stopped. Sat down, absorbed by what he saw.
What sorcery was this?
No one - not even Blaster - knew of his spark’s innermost desire.
Ravage bit Steeljaw’s tail. The sudden pain jarred Steeljaw, tore his gaze off the image of him - a magnificent lion, surrounded by a pride of cubs, and a femme. He thought he also saw his deactivated sister, Lockjaw, lounging in the sun.
“What?” Steeljaw snapped.
Soundwave’s eldest cassette yowled.
Steeljaw shuddered. “Yeah, time to go. Thanks for freeing me from that trap.”
They finally found a working exited and separated, vowing never to mention where they had disappeared to - or the fact they had teamed up after an encountered with a poltergeist, the only visible resident of the castle.
T-Verse: Bayverse
Rating: K+
Characters: Bumblebee, Chromia
Summary: Time is of the essence - yet being noticed or capture here means failure for the operation. There will be no back-up missions.
Prompt: Bumblebee/Chromia - Infiltration
The Decepticon citadel, in all its dark glory, filled the horizon. From left to right no other building dared encroached on the mausoleum. Not one mech appeared to move.
A yellow scout, paint-job and color disguised by a molted layer of soot and metallic smog, paused, waiting for visual confirmation that his chosen egress into the formidable prison remained unwatched.
Maybe the Decepticons didn’t know who they’d captured last battle the previous orn. An unlikely event, but possible - not every Autobot had a dossier.
Satisfied that the window was not under surveillance - for now - the young fighter moved forward, aming not for the make-shift door, but the shadows and crevices between him and that entrance.
The trip went agonizingly slow, but no wandering guards, no fly-over patrols, picked up on his approach. Once inside, paradoxically, the going went faster. Supposedly, no enemy infiltrators could get this close to the hierarchy, therefore the guards and wardens weren’t on the lookout for enemy spies. Saboteurs from their own ranks, yes, but not enemy action.
Bumblebee straightened from his crouch. Boldly made his way down to the lower levels of the prison. He was here for one particulare prisoner, but if he had to engineer a jailbreak to escape with his target, he would - in fact, he’d probably give all the prisoners a chance to escape regardless.
His steps down to the lowest dungeoun couldn’t quite be called a swagger, but the imitation came pretty close.
“Chromia.” Bumblebee spotted the one he was the lookout for. And a few others. “Chromia.”
The pastel blue femme and her cohort of fellow prisoners rebooted their otics. One drifted right back into recharge, energy levels too low to remain online for long.
“Bumblebee?” Chromia strolled to the bars. “How’d you get here?”
“The ususal way.” The yellow bot grinned. “You ready to blow this joint?”
“More than ready - got room for a few tag-alongs?”
“The more the merrier.” Bumblebee tossed his spare energon cubes to her waiting hands. “Drink up, while I unlock.” He opened up the control panel, fiddled with the controls.
Chromia made sure the vermillion femme, the sepia femme, and the others got a mouthful of fuel, before sipping some her self - the remainder went to the chartreuse femme struggling to remain online.
Unable to hack the code, Bumblebee resorted to a virus given to him by Tarclamp.
One last flicker and all the energon bars - not just the ones on this cell -went out. “Times up.”
Chromia and Jesturia lifted Limpeta between them. “Lead the way.”
Bumblebee ledt at a slow trot - his audios picked up the fact every unsecured prisoner capable of movement was taking advantage of this opportunity to flle. The chaos caused by their flight would buy Chromia and the other femmes more time.
If he had the opportinuity to cover the retreat of others, Bumblebee would. It did not seem right to him, to use them, and not help them in return - especially since recapture would breath their last hold on hope.
Chromia, Jesturia, Limpeta (able to move on her own by this time), and the others, made it to the escape shuttle.
Title: Auto-Berserk rewrite
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: Teens
Characters: Inferno, Soundwave
Summary: What if Megatron had taken advantage of the opportunity to pick an officer’s processor’s before abandoning the site, when he had the clear advantage in mobility and reach?
Prompt #1 (June 5th) - CHALLENGE: - Choose a cannon scene, change on thing. Retell it from a different character’s perspective. (Auto-Berserk)
The Negavator mishap began as a route - Autobots successfully deflecting all attacks away from the bunker where the control room was encased.
Then, one of the misaimed missiles struck an unstable rock outcrop, and all defending Autobots -baring one -were buried in the rubble.
That sole free enemy fighter proved to be a security officer, not a frontline warrior, or a back-up sniper, or an emergency medic.
Megatron gave the order right before he commanded a retreat.
Starscream, surprisingly, followed both demands without complaint, backtalk or sub vocal grumbling.
A trapped Inferno watched helplessly as his friend was carried off. “Red!”
Red Alert did not care for his sudden capture or the unwanted lift to the Decepticon base - yet because his logic chips were affected by the sneak-attack and subsequent landslide, he could not tell friend from foe, and thus did not struggle to escape capture while there remained a chance he would be found relatively uninjured from a sudden, uncontrollable fall.
“Ironhide! We have got to rescue Red Alert!” Inferno refused to remain still while his friend - the mech it had been his duty to protect and guard - remained trapped in enemy servos.
“Relax, mech, I can cut you loose faster, if ya’ stop moving around!” Ironhide patiently, laboriously, dug out Inferno, Optimus Prime, and the others. The extraction process would have gone faster if Ironhide had had help, but it wouldn’t have happened at all if Ironhide had been covered in rocky debris like everyone else present for the Negavator’s trial run.
Once free, Inferno transformed, began chasing the long-gone Decepticons and their prisoner. He ignored Ironhide’s demands to say and help free the entombed command officers. Much later, days after his misguided attempt to single-handed free his friend, Inferno, driving on fumes, entered the Ark, collapsed form exhaustion before reaching the first corner on the long trek to the recharge billets.
“I failed you, Red. I am so sorry.”
Meanwhile, back in Decepticon headquarters, Soundwave experienced a novelty - a processor ache. Dealing with his rambunctious cassettes he could handle. Anticipating Starscrem’s lackluster attempts to double-cross Megatron was child’s play. Taking care of Dead End, or soothing the fried processors of a paranoid Breakdown … that he left to their gestalts. Adding Red Alert to the mix of crazies, and nothing ran smoothly. Red Alert’s paranoia proved less controllable - he didn’t have a gestalt to monitor his behavior and attitudes - yet more predictable than Breakdown’s - the Autobot was suspicious of everything and everyone. All motives had to have an ulterior cause.
Suffering from a processor ache, Soundwave carefully approached Megatron.
“Well? What information has been extracted from our Autobot guest?”
Soundwave vented. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Megatron rose out of his throne, towering over all standing mechs. “I give you seven days to figure out the Security Officer’s encryption codes, and you come up with nothing?” The Decepticon Lord Protectorate stepped down from his elevated platform. “Maybe I should give your pet to Vortex. Or Shockwave. They’ll have no trouble clearing out shattered firewalls.”
“Firewalls, nonexistent.” Soundwave explained patiently. “Processors, scattered-brained. No stable connections. Recommendation: return to Autobots.”
“But he is functional.”
“Damaged in processors.”
Silence.
“I see no reason to keep the security officer any longer - his purpose is ended.” Megatron turned around. “Dispose of him, however you will.”
Listening in, Starscream scoffed. “If it were up to me, I’d tear the useless drone into pieces before scattering the remains where his good friends will never find them.”
Unseen, unobserved by Soundave or his always-present - usually hidden in ductwork - cassettes, Red Alert backed away, trembling.
He knew it! Everyone was out to get him! He wondered if it were possible to cause Autobot war devices and protype weapons to explode on demand (like he’d been working to do on Decepticon stuff). He needed to get rid of the Negavator.
Title: Forced edits
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: Teen
Characters: Soundwave, Ratchet, Perceptor
Summary: Missing scene from ‘Cosmic Rust’ - Soundwave is gifted at overwriting even the most private of memories, and takes an opportunity to throw the Autobot forces into chaos.
Prompt June 5th #1 - Change one thing from established Canon.
While Perceptor reluctantly, perhaps foolishly, extracted every drop of corrostop form his lines and portable flasks in an effort to prevent Hook, the Construcitcons, and the rest of the Decepticon army from deactivating from an almost forgotten metallic plague, which, if left unchecked, would devastate all mechanical life, Megatron played with the recently excavated weapon dubbed ‘Lightning Bug’ by Astrotrain.
Once Astrotrain, the last of the affected lot, but not the worst off, Megatron raised the weapon, aimed it at the every helpful scientist. “Thank you for curing my troops - hope you left enough to cure yourself.” He pressed down on the trigger.
Before the ancient device fired one final time, Soundwave stepped forward. “Query, download of relevant information permitted?”
“Have you ever found anything worth extracting from a theoretical-focused scientist?” Megatron non-the-less lowered the device. “Leave him intact enough so the misguided fools will attempt a rescue.”
Soundwave turned to Perceptor, extended a data-cable, plugged into the base of the Autobot processors.
Perceptor struggled valiantly to retain secrets - technological advances he did manage to retain, along with top secret clearance codes, and private communications with Earth’s leaders, scientists, and more. Thrown off balance by the lack of attack, he almost missed what Soundwave was after.
Megatron watched as Perceptor and Soundwave were locked in a battle of wills. He waited, knowing extractions took time - and results varied depending on how intact they wanted the victim at the end. A broken processor was much easier to disguise than a broken body.
Soundwave’s ruthless, relentless attack overwhelmed the weary, meager defenses. Task done, Soundwave unplugged himself, respooling the datacables. “Orders, Megatron?” (Perceptor collapsed, unaware of the events happening in his vicinity).
“You successfully turned one of Primes most stubbornly loyal followers against him? I am impressed.” He raised the ancient cannon, uncaring that continued use would kill him - as long as it killed the Autobots, he could handle some indignity and setback. “Unfortunately, the trap needs to be set, and I have no other live bait.” Megatron fired, infecting Perceptor.
An unconscious Perceptor was put into position. Tied down and doomed. He was helpless to prevent Optimus Prime from risking himself to save a doomed soldier. All went well until it came time for the debriefing - led by Prowl.
The metallic plague’s threat was gone, the Lightning Bug destroyed, Lady Liberty undamaged during the furious battle. New York and its millions of inhabitants had recovered form the visit of Autobots and Decepticons.
Ratchet, Hoist, and the rest of the medics had fixed all battle-damage, were finally given a chance to relax and enjoy the rare tiems when all mad-bays were empty of wounded allies, when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker hauled a furious Perceptor to a medical booth.
“What now?” Ratchet hauld himself up.
Sideswipe securely latchet Perceptor’s flailing limbs to the tabletop. “Don’t know - Percetpor here took one look at Prowl, went berserk; claiming our favorite tactician is the Decepticon second-in-command.”
Ratchet raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Where’s Prime real second-in command? I demand to see Soundwave, not the infiltrator!”
The eyebrow went back down and an expressionless visage crossed Ratchet’s face.
“Can you fix this?” Sunstreaker asked “He almost deactivated Prowl before he could pull him off.”
“It will take some time.” Ratchet didn’t attempt to shoo either of the brothers out. If Perceptor had been brainwashed into believing Soundwave as an Autobot, Prowl, an con, there was no way to tell if other officers had been similarly replaced by enemy counterparts. “I hate it when Soundwave plays with memories.”
Title: Transfixed.
T-Verse: Generation 1
Rating: K
Characters: Ravage, Steeljaw
Summary: Megatron was not satisfied with one failed attempt at controlling magical elements - he will find a way of harnessing the power!
Prompt 13th Aug 2011 IMAGE
Two metal felines prowled a dusty castle. “Any idea where we are?”
Ravage hissed.
Steeljaw took on offense. “This place looks abandoned.” And Old he just as carefully did not say.
One Autobot cassette, one Decepticon cassette, wandered in the dark, empty castle walls. Occasionally, one or the other lifted his head, scanning the still-life paintings, or empty suits of armor, not convinced all was, as it appeared to be.
“Creepy.” Steeljaw commented the hundredth time he thought he some one of the painted images or chain-mail suit move. “What was it about this particular empty castle in Scotland that drew Megatron’s attention anyway?”
Ravage paused before a stone-stair case. His ears flicked back and forth.
Steeljaw joined him at the landing. Peered down. “Huh. Should be more rubble or more stair sets.” He looked up. “Shall we explore the top level, work our way down?”
Ravage’s ears never stopped swiveling. He extended a claw, marked an X on the stone, bounded upwards. Steeljaw had no choice, but to follow.
An hour of searching for a window, an egress to the outside, a door that actually opened, a crack they could use to escape fro the heart of a castle who’s limited stairwells shifted locations at random, blocking all efforts to escape, the two felines found a room free from the watchful paintings, haunted chain mail.
This room proved empty of all, scans a mirror in the center. The silvery glass had an inscription in the metal support.
“ERISED STRAH RUOYW OHSI” Steeljaw read the carved letters, uncomprehendingly. He bumped Ravage ho was staring captivated by his reflective image. “Just a carnival mirror.”
Shoving Ravage aside Steeljaw happened to glance at his reflection. He stopped. Sat down, absorbed by what he saw.
What sorcery was this?
No one - not even Blaster - knew of his spark’s innermost desire.
Ravage bit Steeljaw’s tail. The sudden pain jarred Steeljaw, tore his gaze off the image of him - a magnificent lion, surrounded by a pride of cubs, and a femme. He thought he also saw his deactivated sister, Lockjaw, lounging in the sun.
“What?” Steeljaw snapped.
Soundwave’s eldest cassette yowled.
Steeljaw shuddered. “Yeah, time to go. Thanks for freeing me from that trap.”
They finally found a working exited and separated, vowing never to mention where they had disappeared to - or the fact they had teamed up after an encountered with a poltergeist, the only visible resident of the castle.