... Cassanova would be an EPIC name for an OC Seeker.
Title: The Nine Rings of Vos: War
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Slipstream says it's about damn time!
Timeline: La la la~ More of this series here.
=/=
(In which Slipstream finally gets what she wants.)
Airwave was quite content with his lot in life. When the Winglords had spread the word that Vos would soon be rebelling, Airwave had managed to avoid the nasty business of being shot at by dint of being the best Primus damned energon smuggler in Vos. Airwave had managed to lie, cheat, fast talk and bribe his way through every blockade and border guard the Autobot government and Decepticon rebels had managed to put up. Avoiding patrols (official ones or pirates meant all the same to him) was sparkling play. In time, that skill had got him his very own base command.
It was the closest Vosian base to Decepticon held space, so Airwave was very, very careful to prevent discovery. Getting shot at tended to put a crimp in his plans for the day.
In a way, Airwave’s base was the bottleneck back to Cybertron, as there were only two other bases that - like his - were close enough to Cybertron to make the trip in one go. Being in command of such and important base raised Airwave’s rank and esteem in direct proportion to the danger it put him in and the responsibility he had to shoulder. Personally, Airwave could have done with a little less acclaim and a little more relaxation, but that was wartime for you.
Still, Airwave enjoyed the relatively peaceful not-being-shot-at anonymity that came from being away from the frontlines and under orders to keep his secret base very, very secret indeed. Well… he had been enjoying it, at least.
Airwave fidgeted on the command deck as the transport team landed. Motioning for his crew to carry out the usual double and triple-check for shadows and enemy signals, Airwave turned and walked quickly down to the landing platform. Primus, he would much rather be taking a nap right now.
“You’re the base commander?” A sharp voice snapped as soon as Airwave descended into view. The lavender and teal femme did not look pleased to see him at all, still - Airwave’s spark did a funny little fillip in its chamber when the angry femme and her big blue companion walked towards him.
“Base Commander Airwave, at your service.” Airwave said politely, because he may be a good-for-nothing-but-larceny scoundrel, but his Matter had raised him up right.
“Head of Operations Security Slipstream.” The femme said briskly, “And Chief Productions Officer Overcast. We’re here to evaluate your base.”
Airwave froze, survival protocols making horrified squeaking noises in the back of his processor. The Winglord’s co-creation and her trinemate were in his base. If ever Airwave were the type to panic, now would be a good time.
“Welcome to Second Base, Lady Slipstream, Lord Overcast. I’m sure you’ll find everything is up to specifications here.” Airwave said with automatic congeniality, motioning for them to follow him, “If you’d care to come with me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“Thank you.” Overcast said, placing one hand on his trinemate’s tense shoulder.
A quick tour of the base later, Airwave was leading his two guests into the VIP quarters for visiting commanders, “I hope everything is to your liking. Please excuse me.”
“Hold it.” Slipstream hissed as she grabbed a rather startled Airwave by one wing and dragged him further into the room. The door shut, the lock engaging with a very final sounding click. This left Airwave trapped in the room with the crazy femme and her looming companion. This was so unfair! He made a living off of being boring and unnoticeable, why was she taking an interest in him? Airwave’s spark was pulsing like a whirligig, panic clawing along the inside of his thoughts as he frantically went over everything he had said to them up to this point in an attempt to guess what Slipstream may have found fault with. Nothing stood out. Airwave was painfully meticulous about security and procedure, knowing that getting it done right the first time meant more time to slack off once the job was done. Do-over’s cut into his naptime. So why was the crazy femme roughing him up? Airwave felt completely justified in his confusion when Slipstream cursed spitefully, then cackled, “I knew it! Smelting Pits, it figured that I’d run into you only after I’d given up on looking!”
“What are you talking about?” Airwave really wished his spark would calm the slag down so he could think straight but having Overcast step up to sandwich Airwave between the blue Seeker and Slipstream was not helping much with that. Primus, it felt like his spark was going to burst right out of its chamber. Boom. Little Airwave bits all over the place. Confusion and panic and utter what-the-fraggery churned his tanks and Airwave knew he was this-close to vibrating his way though the floor via nervous twitching.
“Huh. You’re right.” Overcast said, answering some unspoken question in an amused tone, “He is our trinemate.”
“… uh?” Airwave’s world stopped. Trinemate? What - what - were they serious? His spark was - no. Just no. This was abject terror - and maybe, maybe just the teeny-tiniest amount of interest but - no. No, no, no way Airwave was not cut out to be trinemate to the Winglord’s sister! Airwave squeaked in protest as Slipstream shoved him up against Overcast’s chest while her claws did obscene things to his thighs and Airwave wondered a bit desperately if there were any way he would be able to talk his way out of this one. A single look at the avarice in Slipstream’s optics told him - nope. Not a chance in the Pit.
His spark was burning its way out through his plating, and there were claws and denta and aching, needy noises that Airwave had not know his vocalizer could make as energy built, surges and sparks Primus, there was no way he could survive this!
Airwave was doomed.
(Word Count: 973)
=/=
Airwave is amazingly fun to write. He thinks like a jitterbug on speed. In case anyone was wondering where he came from, Airwave's a minor comic character who was probably only given a name for the sake of making a toy. But I like him anyway! XP
Now I know I said I'd write up the prompts for "Fun Missions Soundwave Would Do Again" as a Halloween treat, but Sounders in refusing to cooperate with me, so it looks like it'll have to be a Christmas Present. My apologies to those who gave me prompts.
And speaking of Christmas, I was just wondering... if I put up a Christmas Card List, who would be interested in exchanging cards with me? Replies would of course be private, as we don't want anything creepy happening with people's addresses, but still. Everyone's left such nice reviews over the past year I'd like to give a little something back. (It probably goes without saying, but if you are interested please don't give me your address yet. I'll do a seperate post for Christmas Card List in a few days if enough people like the idea.)
Here There Be Dragons!
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Slipstream says it's about damn time!
Timeline: La la la~ More of this series here.
=/=
(In which Slipstream finally gets what she wants.)
Airwave was quite content with his lot in life. When the Winglords had spread the word that Vos would soon be rebelling, Airwave had managed to avoid the nasty business of being shot at by dint of being the best Primus damned energon smuggler in Vos. Airwave had managed to lie, cheat, fast talk and bribe his way through every blockade and border guard the Autobot government and Decepticon rebels had managed to put up. Avoiding patrols (official ones or pirates meant all the same to him) was sparkling play. In time, that skill had got him his very own base command.
It was the closest Vosian base to Decepticon held space, so Airwave was very, very careful to prevent discovery. Getting shot at tended to put a crimp in his plans for the day.
In a way, Airwave’s base was the bottleneck back to Cybertron, as there were only two other bases that - like his - were close enough to Cybertron to make the trip in one go. Being in command of such and important base raised Airwave’s rank and esteem in direct proportion to the danger it put him in and the responsibility he had to shoulder. Personally, Airwave could have done with a little less acclaim and a little more relaxation, but that was wartime for you.
Still, Airwave enjoyed the relatively peaceful not-being-shot-at anonymity that came from being away from the frontlines and under orders to keep his secret base very, very secret indeed. Well… he had been enjoying it, at least.
Airwave fidgeted on the command deck as the transport team landed. Motioning for his crew to carry out the usual double and triple-check for shadows and enemy signals, Airwave turned and walked quickly down to the landing platform. Primus, he would much rather be taking a nap right now.
“You’re the base commander?” A sharp voice snapped as soon as Airwave descended into view. The lavender and teal femme did not look pleased to see him at all, still - Airwave’s spark did a funny little fillip in its chamber when the angry femme and her big blue companion walked towards him.
“Base Commander Airwave, at your service.” Airwave said politely, because he may be a good-for-nothing-but-larceny scoundrel, but his Matter had raised him up right.
“Head of Operations Security Slipstream.” The femme said briskly, “And Chief Productions Officer Overcast. We’re here to evaluate your base.”
Airwave froze, survival protocols making horrified squeaking noises in the back of his processor. The Winglord’s co-creation and her trinemate were in his base. If ever Airwave were the type to panic, now would be a good time.
“Welcome to Second Base, Lady Slipstream, Lord Overcast. I’m sure you’ll find everything is up to specifications here.” Airwave said with automatic congeniality, motioning for them to follow him, “If you’d care to come with me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“Thank you.” Overcast said, placing one hand on his trinemate’s tense shoulder.
A quick tour of the base later, Airwave was leading his two guests into the VIP quarters for visiting commanders, “I hope everything is to your liking. Please excuse me.”
“Hold it.” Slipstream hissed as she grabbed a rather startled Airwave by one wing and dragged him further into the room. The door shut, the lock engaging with a very final sounding click. This left Airwave trapped in the room with the crazy femme and her looming companion. This was so unfair! He made a living off of being boring and unnoticeable, why was she taking an interest in him? Airwave’s spark was pulsing like a whirligig, panic clawing along the inside of his thoughts as he frantically went over everything he had said to them up to this point in an attempt to guess what Slipstream may have found fault with. Nothing stood out. Airwave was painfully meticulous about security and procedure, knowing that getting it done right the first time meant more time to slack off once the job was done. Do-over’s cut into his naptime. So why was the crazy femme roughing him up? Airwave felt completely justified in his confusion when Slipstream cursed spitefully, then cackled, “I knew it! Smelting Pits, it figured that I’d run into you only after I’d given up on looking!”
“What are you talking about?” Airwave really wished his spark would calm the slag down so he could think straight but having Overcast step up to sandwich Airwave between the blue Seeker and Slipstream was not helping much with that. Primus, it felt like his spark was going to burst right out of its chamber. Boom. Little Airwave bits all over the place. Confusion and panic and utter what-the-fraggery churned his tanks and Airwave knew he was this-close to vibrating his way though the floor via nervous twitching.
“Huh. You’re right.” Overcast said, answering some unspoken question in an amused tone, “He is our trinemate.”
“… uh?” Airwave’s world stopped. Trinemate? What - what - were they serious? His spark was - no. Just no. This was abject terror - and maybe, maybe just the teeny-tiniest amount of interest but - no. No, no, no way Airwave was not cut out to be trinemate to the Winglord’s sister! Airwave squeaked in protest as Slipstream shoved him up against Overcast’s chest while her claws did obscene things to his thighs and Airwave wondered a bit desperately if there were any way he would be able to talk his way out of this one. A single look at the avarice in Slipstream’s optics told him - nope. Not a chance in the Pit.
His spark was burning its way out through his plating, and there were claws and denta and aching, needy noises that Airwave had not know his vocalizer could make as energy built, surges and sparks Primus, there was no way he could survive this!
Airwave was doomed.
(Word Count: 973)
=/=
Airwave is amazingly fun to write. He thinks like a jitterbug on speed. In case anyone was wondering where he came from, Airwave's a minor comic character who was probably only given a name for the sake of making a toy. But I like him anyway! XP
Now I know I said I'd write up the prompts for "Fun Missions Soundwave Would Do Again" as a Halloween treat, but Sounders in refusing to cooperate with me, so it looks like it'll have to be a Christmas Present. My apologies to those who gave me prompts.
And speaking of Christmas, I was just wondering... if I put up a Christmas Card List, who would be interested in exchanging cards with me? Replies would of course be private, as we don't want anything creepy happening with people's addresses, but still. Everyone's left such nice reviews over the past year I'd like to give a little something back. (It probably goes without saying, but if you are interested please don't give me your address yet. I'll do a seperate post for Christmas Card List in a few days if enough people like the idea.)
Here There Be Dragons!
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠