Prompt 3, The Beginning of After the End
Title: The Beginning of After the End
Warnings: None
Continuity: BW
Characters: Scorponok, Inferno, Waspinator, Terrorsaur, Quickstrike
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Transformers Beast Wars is owned by Hasbro and Takara, no profit is being made off of this.
Summery: The prologue to a tale of what happened next.
Prompt: 3: ‘Task - Write a trailer/prologue of a story, which, in your opinion, needs to be written/you want to read.’
Words: 341
A/N: Another bitlet from the headcanon AU no one but me cares about. >> Yay for self indulgence?
The wave hit them, sending Scorponok flying into Terrorsaur, and the two of them tumbling off their hover pads, tangled in each other, and shocked, the heat and pressure of the lava sweeping over them before Terrorsaur had even thought about using his thrusters, the last sight of them Terrorsaur’s hand, stretched above the lava, reaching for help.
Inferno ran slightly ahead of Quickstrike in what he refused to think of as ‘retreat’, as another failure to fulfil the Queen’s orders, this time not even against those accused Maximals, but instead against the organics, of all things to loose against. As they finally got out of the throwing range, he saw what was either the best, or worst sight in his life.
The best, as it was his Queen, rising high above them in the colony that he had gone to capture, the sign of their colony’s power blatant across the sky above.
The worst, because his Queen had turned the cannons of the-colony-in-the-sky on them, on the organic’s colony behind them, and, as the blast came at them, and as he threw himself over Quickstrike in an instinctive motion to protect his colony-mates over himself, he wondered if they were really that inconsequential to the Royalty, that he was able to kill them without a second thought, or a moment’s pause to allow them time to get out of the way.
A time later, a long, hard, painful time later, Scorponok and Terrorsaur were able to pull themselves all of the way out of the lava, collapsing in pure exhaustion the cycle they were completely free from the heat, self repairs, long overtaxed, finally able to cycle onto active repair, rather than just playing ‘keep away’ with their essential systems.
Far away, near the budding protohuman colony, trapped within the charred and twisted remains, two sparks flickered dimly.
And further away than that, Waspinator buzzed over the treeline, lost and alone, unwilling to continue on by himself, but not quite sure how to stop.
Warnings: None
Continuity: BW
Characters: Scorponok, Inferno, Waspinator, Terrorsaur, Quickstrike
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Transformers Beast Wars is owned by Hasbro and Takara, no profit is being made off of this.
Summery: The prologue to a tale of what happened next.
Prompt: 3: ‘Task - Write a trailer/prologue of a story, which, in your opinion, needs to be written/you want to read.’
Words: 341
A/N: Another bitlet from the headcanon AU no one but me cares about. >> Yay for self indulgence?
The wave hit them, sending Scorponok flying into Terrorsaur, and the two of them tumbling off their hover pads, tangled in each other, and shocked, the heat and pressure of the lava sweeping over them before Terrorsaur had even thought about using his thrusters, the last sight of them Terrorsaur’s hand, stretched above the lava, reaching for help.
Inferno ran slightly ahead of Quickstrike in what he refused to think of as ‘retreat’, as another failure to fulfil the Queen’s orders, this time not even against those accused Maximals, but instead against the organics, of all things to loose against. As they finally got out of the throwing range, he saw what was either the best, or worst sight in his life.
The best, as it was his Queen, rising high above them in the colony that he had gone to capture, the sign of their colony’s power blatant across the sky above.
The worst, because his Queen had turned the cannons of the-colony-in-the-sky on them, on the organic’s colony behind them, and, as the blast came at them, and as he threw himself over Quickstrike in an instinctive motion to protect his colony-mates over himself, he wondered if they were really that inconsequential to the Royalty, that he was able to kill them without a second thought, or a moment’s pause to allow them time to get out of the way.
A time later, a long, hard, painful time later, Scorponok and Terrorsaur were able to pull themselves all of the way out of the lava, collapsing in pure exhaustion the cycle they were completely free from the heat, self repairs, long overtaxed, finally able to cycle onto active repair, rather than just playing ‘keep away’ with their essential systems.
Far away, near the budding protohuman colony, trapped within the charred and twisted remains, two sparks flickered dimly.
And further away than that, Waspinator buzzed over the treeline, lost and alone, unwilling to continue on by himself, but not quite sure how to stop.