Two bits
Title: Old Soldiers
Rating: K+
Continuity: Bayverse (sometime before DOTM)
Characters: Ironhide, Jolt
Prompt: Jold/Ironhide - Dance
Summary: Dancing is as old as the stars -
Despite the many disadvantages - and the fact it had been ultimately chosen as a compromise between various human governments - the move to Diego Island had one major thing going for it.
It might have been small in size, but the war-shelled island had no local humans, no native inhabitants, the newly arrived forces had to be wary of.
Upon realizing they didn’t need to stay in vehicle mode at all times, many Autobots had stopped assuming their car disguise while exploring their new base. And one of the first things that had gone up around the human structures was a firing range, courtesy of Ironhide and the other gunners.
Spending most of his free time on the shooting range didn’t mean Ironhide focused only on perfecting his marksmanship. Oh no! He liked the sparing zone too.
Jolt, a war-bot, didn’t care for either location. For good reason
“Again?” The blue bot puffed wearily.
“Again,” the black weapons master snarled. “Your form was atrocious - the footwork needs work.”
“You do then, cause I can’t.” Jolt stepped back, letting the master take center stage.
Several of the human observers - NEST soldiers, all of them - stopped what they were doing to watch.
Ironhide balanced on one foot, shifted to the other. His arms - not cannons this time, no swords yet (he wasn’t sparing Sideswipe), - swept forward and moved through the stages; he finished the form once, started it over again.
On the fifth repeat, Jolt joined in, mirroring the slides and twists. Twice more through, and they stepped together, facing and turning the dance-like steps into a practice brawl, a spar between metal titans.
All the while, the humans watched from a safe distance. Even if the practicing bots were allies, things had a habit of braking as their allies got lost in the motion, tossing and twisting in a dance-that-could-become-deadly-at-a-moment’s notice.
Title: on-task
Rating: K+
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Vogal
Prompt: Vogal/Miko Nakadia - Conspiracy Theorists!
Summary: Finding like-minded people can be a balm to the soul
Author: Rose0mary
He’d always known that New York’s Subway Tunnel held secrets. But aliens? Vogal wanted to tell someone, tell anyone, couldn’t.
Oh, it wasn’t the secrecy agreement he’d given Special Agengt Fowler that held him back. Nor the fact his coworkers continually laughed at his “I saw something, I really did see something!” stories - sometimes, Vogal wished he hadn’t overplayed his hand of finding mutant animals in the sewer lines (yes, flushed alligators and abandoned crocodiles in the underworld were real, but not to the exaggerated size and armor-plating he insisted they had), but sometimes he didn’t mind being labeled as someone who’d inhaled too much swamp gas.
“Miko! Take down any new threats this week?” Vogal’s voice boomed in the tunnels, echoing and echoing down the line. Her response wasn’t heard nearly as far, coming from a cell.
“Yeah, I hear you.” Vogal left his phone on speaker mode. “Nothing like a good knock-down fight to bring the adrenaline rushing.”
Rummaging around his work bag for tools needed - his oilcan was running low. A restock of mechanical lubricant wouldn’t go amiss - Vogal still heard Miko’s not-so-muffled reply.
His cowokers, just outside the currently-disabled cab, merely rolled their eyes, ignoring the conversation. “Did you really grab that armor stuff from screamer?”
“VOGAL!” His not-quite-boss bellowed, cutting off the conversation. “You know the rules! No cells while on duty - and how’d you get phones to work this far down?”
“Wasn’t me - was her friend’s work”
“Well, shut it down and get your head focused on the job. NOW.” The man wandered off. “Honestly, where’d he find someone willing to listen to his theories?”
Vogal didn’t mind too much. He knew he wasn’t crazy.
Rating: K+
Continuity: Bayverse (sometime before DOTM)
Characters: Ironhide, Jolt
Prompt: Jold/Ironhide - Dance
Summary: Dancing is as old as the stars -
Despite the many disadvantages - and the fact it had been ultimately chosen as a compromise between various human governments - the move to Diego Island had one major thing going for it.
It might have been small in size, but the war-shelled island had no local humans, no native inhabitants, the newly arrived forces had to be wary of.
Upon realizing they didn’t need to stay in vehicle mode at all times, many Autobots had stopped assuming their car disguise while exploring their new base. And one of the first things that had gone up around the human structures was a firing range, courtesy of Ironhide and the other gunners.
Spending most of his free time on the shooting range didn’t mean Ironhide focused only on perfecting his marksmanship. Oh no! He liked the sparing zone too.
Jolt, a war-bot, didn’t care for either location. For good reason
“Again?” The blue bot puffed wearily.
“Again,” the black weapons master snarled. “Your form was atrocious - the footwork needs work.”
“You do then, cause I can’t.” Jolt stepped back, letting the master take center stage.
Several of the human observers - NEST soldiers, all of them - stopped what they were doing to watch.
Ironhide balanced on one foot, shifted to the other. His arms - not cannons this time, no swords yet (he wasn’t sparing Sideswipe), - swept forward and moved through the stages; he finished the form once, started it over again.
On the fifth repeat, Jolt joined in, mirroring the slides and twists. Twice more through, and they stepped together, facing and turning the dance-like steps into a practice brawl, a spar between metal titans.
All the while, the humans watched from a safe distance. Even if the practicing bots were allies, things had a habit of braking as their allies got lost in the motion, tossing and twisting in a dance-that-could-become-deadly-at-a-moment’s notice.
Title: on-task
Rating: K+
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Vogal
Prompt: Vogal/Miko Nakadia - Conspiracy Theorists!
Summary: Finding like-minded people can be a balm to the soul
Author: Rose0mary
He’d always known that New York’s Subway Tunnel held secrets. But aliens? Vogal wanted to tell someone, tell anyone, couldn’t.
Oh, it wasn’t the secrecy agreement he’d given Special Agengt Fowler that held him back. Nor the fact his coworkers continually laughed at his “I saw something, I really did see something!” stories - sometimes, Vogal wished he hadn’t overplayed his hand of finding mutant animals in the sewer lines (yes, flushed alligators and abandoned crocodiles in the underworld were real, but not to the exaggerated size and armor-plating he insisted they had), but sometimes he didn’t mind being labeled as someone who’d inhaled too much swamp gas.
“Miko! Take down any new threats this week?” Vogal’s voice boomed in the tunnels, echoing and echoing down the line. Her response wasn’t heard nearly as far, coming from a cell.
“Yeah, I hear you.” Vogal left his phone on speaker mode. “Nothing like a good knock-down fight to bring the adrenaline rushing.”
Rummaging around his work bag for tools needed - his oilcan was running low. A restock of mechanical lubricant wouldn’t go amiss - Vogal still heard Miko’s not-so-muffled reply.
His cowokers, just outside the currently-disabled cab, merely rolled their eyes, ignoring the conversation. “Did you really grab that armor stuff from screamer?”
“VOGAL!” His not-quite-boss bellowed, cutting off the conversation. “You know the rules! No cells while on duty - and how’d you get phones to work this far down?”
“Wasn’t me - was her friend’s work”
“Well, shut it down and get your head focused on the job. NOW.” The man wandered off. “Honestly, where’d he find someone willing to listen to his theories?”
Vogal didn’t mind too much. He knew he wasn’t crazy.