The Race [Transformers (G1), Hot Rod, G]
Title: The Race
Author: Scrolls
Rating: G
Warnings: Hot Rod being his sweet, sweet self.
Pairings: Hot Rod
Word count: 210
Summary: The more some things are different, the more other things are the same.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, just like to play with from time to time.
Prompt: Transformers(G1), Hot Rod: Delighted & Surprised by Earth - I don’t understand a word they’re saying/ I’m as different as different can be/ but the beauty is, I still meet people like me.
He hasn’t downloaded the language tracks, but some things are universal.
A revved engine at a stoplight, a gathering of cars-designed for speed and show every one-gathered in some tucked away place, looks and eyes and calls aimed at him.
The gathering call, the lining up-oldest and most experienced first, newest last-then a map sent to cell phones and other communication devices, only moments to check the route before the flag dropped and they were off.
Speed was the name of the game, tight corners and nitro were the rules, and the only ref’s were the laws of physics and the driver’s reflexes.
The only trophy was the finish line and the knowledge that you won, that your vehicle was faster, that you were better. The only reward was the nods of respect, the cheers at the finish, and the invites to more races.
Politics didn’t exist, a cheater was a cheater, and victory was given to those who earned it.
A fleeting glance, a caressing tone, who needed words when body language was near-universal?
Jazz and Bee might be the best diplomats on the Ark when it came to the governments, but when it came to the common folk, it was Hot Rot that got them the best friends.
Sorry this is so late! RL got in the way.
Author: Scrolls
Rating: G
Warnings: Hot Rod being his sweet, sweet self.
Pairings: Hot Rod
Word count: 210
Summary: The more some things are different, the more other things are the same.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, just like to play with from time to time.
Prompt: Transformers(G1), Hot Rod: Delighted & Surprised by Earth - I don’t understand a word they’re saying/ I’m as different as different can be/ but the beauty is, I still meet people like me.
He hasn’t downloaded the language tracks, but some things are universal.
A revved engine at a stoplight, a gathering of cars-designed for speed and show every one-gathered in some tucked away place, looks and eyes and calls aimed at him.
The gathering call, the lining up-oldest and most experienced first, newest last-then a map sent to cell phones and other communication devices, only moments to check the route before the flag dropped and they were off.
Speed was the name of the game, tight corners and nitro were the rules, and the only ref’s were the laws of physics and the driver’s reflexes.
The only trophy was the finish line and the knowledge that you won, that your vehicle was faster, that you were better. The only reward was the nods of respect, the cheers at the finish, and the invites to more races.
Politics didn’t exist, a cheater was a cheater, and victory was given to those who earned it.
A fleeting glance, a caressing tone, who needed words when body language was near-universal?
Jazz and Bee might be the best diplomats on the Ark when it came to the governments, but when it came to the common folk, it was Hot Rot that got them the best friends.
Sorry this is so late! RL got in the way.