Fic- Sharpening, Optimus/Sideswipe, Weekly Response Fic
Title: Sharpening
Writer: Left_eye_better
Rating: K+
Characters: Sideswipe and Optimus Prime
Prompt: Optimus Prime/Sideswipe- sharing wisdom
Warning: Unbeta’d
Word Count: 790
Continuity: Bayverse
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara/Dreamworks/whoever.
______________________
The troops sat either along the sides of the Hercules cargo plane’s bay or dropped down resting in their altmodes. It was a short but rough skirmish and the humans seem to find places to rest amond their Cybertonian allies. Some the more friendly mechs we basically froze in place due to the amount of humans that had decided to rest in close proximity to them.
Sideswipe brooded and the organic warriors had decided it was probably best to find other company. He hadn’t moved from the position he’d dropped into. The wheels on his pedes had neatly folded and twisted into two tripod style pedes. His right leg was bent close to him and the left was extended, creating an obstracle for the humans. Only one mech had decided to move and as much as Sideswip may have tried to appear as though his attention wasn’t drawn to the Prime it was still rather obvious through the glint of his optics.
The red and blue mech made his rounds. The large mech seemed to have no quams about intruding upon the personal space of others, allowed his ever calm energyfield to brush against theirs, as his hand mimicked the motion in a physical presence on the mech’s shoulder, arm or knee depending how it may have worked out. Sideswipe watched, his mask still in place. He had been one of the first that the truckformer had visited and he knew the violent turbulence of his emotions were nothing of what they had been when they had first boarded the plane.
Large steps made their way to back toward the silver warrior and Optimus deposited himself down a small groan emitting from his vocalizor. The Autobot leader knew there would be no rest on this trip. The human commanders were updating their superiors, and soon enough he would be updating the humans command tree. Shifting, he reached into his subspace and retrieved the small hand sharpener. Releasing the catch on his forearm blade he let it swing free from its pocket. The sharpening would create sparks, glancing around both him and Sideswipe, and just as a secondary measure ran a sweep with his proximity sensors before sliding the hand sharpener over the blade creating a series of embers and the rasp of metal on metal.
Throwing his arm over his knee and straightening his spinal struts the silver swordsmech watched. The metal of the blade was worn. What had once been a fine example of craftsmanship was almost nothing more than a rough cut, sharpened piece of slag. Glyphs of the Prime’s language ran, now nearly illegible, along its length. The sharpener the larger mech was using had been made for the blade, for its original curve, and angles and it was clear to Sideswipe that the sharpner itself had seen better days as well. The younger mech reached out and placed his had onto top of the Prime’s to stop the mech midmotion. “You are ruining that blade worse.”
The truckformer shot him a slightly surprised look before offering the sharpener to Sideswipe in a silent but clear challenge. If the other thought he could be it better than all power to him. The silver mech’s three fingered hand took the sharpener from the palm of the five fingered hand, letting their optics met before setting the sharpener on the deck of the cargo bay. The vibration from the four propellers of the plane caused the device to rattle. Pulling a different sharpener from his on subspace and an oiled cloth Sideswipe started on the blade. He pulled the Prime’s arm into his lap adjusting the way it sat to allow him to run the length with his sharpener as much as he could with one stroke. Every few swipes the cloth would pass over the metal cleaning it of the debris. Slowly scratches were worked out, and the nicked edge ran smoother.
The calming nature of the repetitive work slowly soothed Sideswipe’s brooding anger. When he had completed the task he glanced up realizing that Optimus had been watching his motions in a way that spoke of memorization, of learning. “After millennia of your sharpening you’ve turned that into a ghost of its former glory, but it sure still is something.”
The Prime slowly took back his arm and inspected the shine, and edge, carefully testing the edge with his thumb. Optimus’ battle mask has been stowed since he’d made his rounds. His articulated facial plates were visible to all. He looked to Sideswipe, then to the once civilian mechs that followed him. Sideswipe’s words were apt to describe more than just the blade. “Thank you, Sideswipe.”
“No problem, it was painful to watch you frag it up.”
Writer: Left_eye_better
Rating: K+
Characters: Sideswipe and Optimus Prime
Prompt: Optimus Prime/Sideswipe- sharing wisdom
Warning: Unbeta’d
Word Count: 790
Continuity: Bayverse
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara/Dreamworks/whoever.
______________________
The troops sat either along the sides of the Hercules cargo plane’s bay or dropped down resting in their altmodes. It was a short but rough skirmish and the humans seem to find places to rest amond their Cybertonian allies. Some the more friendly mechs we basically froze in place due to the amount of humans that had decided to rest in close proximity to them.
Sideswipe brooded and the organic warriors had decided it was probably best to find other company. He hadn’t moved from the position he’d dropped into. The wheels on his pedes had neatly folded and twisted into two tripod style pedes. His right leg was bent close to him and the left was extended, creating an obstracle for the humans. Only one mech had decided to move and as much as Sideswip may have tried to appear as though his attention wasn’t drawn to the Prime it was still rather obvious through the glint of his optics.
The red and blue mech made his rounds. The large mech seemed to have no quams about intruding upon the personal space of others, allowed his ever calm energyfield to brush against theirs, as his hand mimicked the motion in a physical presence on the mech’s shoulder, arm or knee depending how it may have worked out. Sideswipe watched, his mask still in place. He had been one of the first that the truckformer had visited and he knew the violent turbulence of his emotions were nothing of what they had been when they had first boarded the plane.
Large steps made their way to back toward the silver warrior and Optimus deposited himself down a small groan emitting from his vocalizor. The Autobot leader knew there would be no rest on this trip. The human commanders were updating their superiors, and soon enough he would be updating the humans command tree. Shifting, he reached into his subspace and retrieved the small hand sharpener. Releasing the catch on his forearm blade he let it swing free from its pocket. The sharpening would create sparks, glancing around both him and Sideswipe, and just as a secondary measure ran a sweep with his proximity sensors before sliding the hand sharpener over the blade creating a series of embers and the rasp of metal on metal.
Throwing his arm over his knee and straightening his spinal struts the silver swordsmech watched. The metal of the blade was worn. What had once been a fine example of craftsmanship was almost nothing more than a rough cut, sharpened piece of slag. Glyphs of the Prime’s language ran, now nearly illegible, along its length. The sharpener the larger mech was using had been made for the blade, for its original curve, and angles and it was clear to Sideswipe that the sharpner itself had seen better days as well. The younger mech reached out and placed his had onto top of the Prime’s to stop the mech midmotion. “You are ruining that blade worse.”
The truckformer shot him a slightly surprised look before offering the sharpener to Sideswipe in a silent but clear challenge. If the other thought he could be it better than all power to him. The silver mech’s three fingered hand took the sharpener from the palm of the five fingered hand, letting their optics met before setting the sharpener on the deck of the cargo bay. The vibration from the four propellers of the plane caused the device to rattle. Pulling a different sharpener from his on subspace and an oiled cloth Sideswipe started on the blade. He pulled the Prime’s arm into his lap adjusting the way it sat to allow him to run the length with his sharpener as much as he could with one stroke. Every few swipes the cloth would pass over the metal cleaning it of the debris. Slowly scratches were worked out, and the nicked edge ran smoother.
The calming nature of the repetitive work slowly soothed Sideswipe’s brooding anger. When he had completed the task he glanced up realizing that Optimus had been watching his motions in a way that spoke of memorization, of learning. “After millennia of your sharpening you’ve turned that into a ghost of its former glory, but it sure still is something.”
The Prime slowly took back his arm and inspected the shine, and edge, carefully testing the edge with his thumb. Optimus’ battle mask has been stowed since he’d made his rounds. His articulated facial plates were visible to all. He looked to Sideswipe, then to the once civilian mechs that followed him. Sideswipe’s words were apt to describe more than just the blade. “Thank you, Sideswipe.”
“No problem, it was painful to watch you frag it up.”