Advent 2013 -- Day 08
Naturally, today is the day work cut off the wireless *facepalms*
Title: The Good Old
Continuity: Sunbow / G1 cartoon
Characters: Laserbeak, Ravage, Eject
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 01. winter sports
: What in the world are they doing? :
Laserbeak's transmission, thick with bemused disbelief, did nothing to shake ravage's attention from the manic, incomprehensible tableau spread out before them.
The two were hunkered down behind a pair of boulders and a snow-encrusted bit of shrubbery, ostensibly to spy on the Autobots' current activities and report back on their findings.
Autobots, that is, who seemed to have gone mad en masse.
: I have no idea. It makes no sense; perhaps a battle simulation? :
-- For it certainly looked like a battle simulation, if anything at all. Sprawled across the root fo the Ark's mountain bed was a massive sheet of glittering ice -- and across that ice galloped and slid what must have been nearly every Autobot the spies could put a name to.
By Ravage's best count only Mirage, Red Alert and Grapple were unaccounted for. The rest chased each other in packs, slashing with flattened metal spars at one another (and possibly, on occasion, at some small object skittering across the ice), plowing each other into snowbanks and stones, and piling into brawling free-for-alls that would make any Decepticon proud. When they weren't indulging in any of the above, they were chasing towards one of the two energy-fields positioned at opposite ends of the ice plain.
And every time those fields were galloped towards, spars slashing wildly, Eject -- that pest, perched on a snowy hillock overlooking the madness -- would break out in the same gleeful howl:
"HEEESHOOOSHEESCAAAAAAARRRRRS --"
Three more howls later (and a spectacular pileup of groaning Autobots; who knew Tracks had it in him?), Ravage was backing deeper behind the cover of his boulders to transform as soon as he felt under cover.
: Pick me up and let us be gone. :
: And our report? :
Talons locked around his fellow, Laserbeak took to the air unnoticed by the Autobot riot below.
: We report exactly what we saw, no more, no less, and let some other fool risk life and limb against those lunatics -- :
The air erupted in frenzied screams of victory from the ice below, and Laserbeak needed no further encouragement to speed his wings. The more distance he could put between him and a horde of maddened Autobots, the better --!
Title: Counterpoint
Continuity: Dreamwave
Characters: Prowl
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 02. "a winter midnight sky"
A thousand thousand stars turned slowly, so slowly above his head; and Prowl, unlikeliest of snow angels as he sank into the drifts, lay still and silent as he watched the night sky unfurl before him.
For just this night, he could almost forget the endless war, that beast that devoured all in its path; could almost feel again the serenity of his beloved parks of singing crystal, reflected in the humbling glory hanging untouchable above.
In the light of pale dawn he would pick up duty once again, push his fellows like game pieces into the jaws of death.
For now, there was the beauty and the silence.
Title: Pale Night
Continuity: IDW
Characters: Drift
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 03. whiteout
There was a certain symmetry to it, he had to admit.
The pale shattered ice of the frozen grounds below; the stripped-bare alloy of his battered shuttle's hide, the howling fury barely held at bay by the thin shell of the tiny craft. A symphony of maddened colourlessness met and matched by the digital storm of flickering static that was all that danced across the comms.
Well, if that was how it was going to be ...
ignoring the storms raging outside, Drift focused on the storm within.
If he were going to make good on his vows -- both known and unknown to Crystal City's ancient master -- then he need to centre. To focus. Just as he'd been taught, painfully and patiently.
He sank to his heels soundlessly, great ancient blade pulled from his back in the same smooth movement to rest lightly across his knees. A sigh of stinging memory echoed through the cramped cabin; and with shaking fingers he traced the cryptic inscriptions wrapping the mount, lingered over the now-quiescent crystal, cold and colourless, that pierced the great sword's hilt.
Too high, the price had been too high for the right to carry the blade.
Another sigh, as Drift closed his eyes -- hands resting on the blade, blade balanced now across his lap -- and blotted the world entire from his mind.
In the pale solitude of his own spark, perhaps he'd find what he needed to indeed make good on those too-sharp vows --
In the pale void of the great blade's jewel, perhaps he'd find what shard of his teacher may remain --
Title: The Good Old
Continuity: Sunbow / G1 cartoon
Characters: Laserbeak, Ravage, Eject
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 01. winter sports
: What in the world are they doing? :
Laserbeak's transmission, thick with bemused disbelief, did nothing to shake ravage's attention from the manic, incomprehensible tableau spread out before them.
The two were hunkered down behind a pair of boulders and a snow-encrusted bit of shrubbery, ostensibly to spy on the Autobots' current activities and report back on their findings.
Autobots, that is, who seemed to have gone mad en masse.
: I have no idea. It makes no sense; perhaps a battle simulation? :
-- For it certainly looked like a battle simulation, if anything at all. Sprawled across the root fo the Ark's mountain bed was a massive sheet of glittering ice -- and across that ice galloped and slid what must have been nearly every Autobot the spies could put a name to.
By Ravage's best count only Mirage, Red Alert and Grapple were unaccounted for. The rest chased each other in packs, slashing with flattened metal spars at one another (and possibly, on occasion, at some small object skittering across the ice), plowing each other into snowbanks and stones, and piling into brawling free-for-alls that would make any Decepticon proud. When they weren't indulging in any of the above, they were chasing towards one of the two energy-fields positioned at opposite ends of the ice plain.
And every time those fields were galloped towards, spars slashing wildly, Eject -- that pest, perched on a snowy hillock overlooking the madness -- would break out in the same gleeful howl:
"HEEESHOOOSHEESCAAAAAAARRRRRS --"
Three more howls later (and a spectacular pileup of groaning Autobots; who knew Tracks had it in him?), Ravage was backing deeper behind the cover of his boulders to transform as soon as he felt under cover.
: Pick me up and let us be gone. :
: And our report? :
Talons locked around his fellow, Laserbeak took to the air unnoticed by the Autobot riot below.
: We report exactly what we saw, no more, no less, and let some other fool risk life and limb against those lunatics -- :
The air erupted in frenzied screams of victory from the ice below, and Laserbeak needed no further encouragement to speed his wings. The more distance he could put between him and a horde of maddened Autobots, the better --!
Title: Counterpoint
Continuity: Dreamwave
Characters: Prowl
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 02. "a winter midnight sky"
A thousand thousand stars turned slowly, so slowly above his head; and Prowl, unlikeliest of snow angels as he sank into the drifts, lay still and silent as he watched the night sky unfurl before him.
For just this night, he could almost forget the endless war, that beast that devoured all in its path; could almost feel again the serenity of his beloved parks of singing crystal, reflected in the humbling glory hanging untouchable above.
In the light of pale dawn he would pick up duty once again, push his fellows like game pieces into the jaws of death.
For now, there was the beauty and the silence.
Title: Pale Night
Continuity: IDW
Characters: Drift
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro; no profit is made from this work.
Prompt: 03. whiteout
There was a certain symmetry to it, he had to admit.
The pale shattered ice of the frozen grounds below; the stripped-bare alloy of his battered shuttle's hide, the howling fury barely held at bay by the thin shell of the tiny craft. A symphony of maddened colourlessness met and matched by the digital storm of flickering static that was all that danced across the comms.
Well, if that was how it was going to be ...
ignoring the storms raging outside, Drift focused on the storm within.
If he were going to make good on his vows -- both known and unknown to Crystal City's ancient master -- then he need to centre. To focus. Just as he'd been taught, painfully and patiently.
He sank to his heels soundlessly, great ancient blade pulled from his back in the same smooth movement to rest lightly across his knees. A sigh of stinging memory echoed through the cramped cabin; and with shaking fingers he traced the cryptic inscriptions wrapping the mount, lingered over the now-quiescent crystal, cold and colourless, that pierced the great sword's hilt.
Too high, the price had been too high for the right to carry the blade.
Another sigh, as Drift closed his eyes -- hands resting on the blade, blade balanced now across his lap -- and blotted the world entire from his mind.
In the pale solitude of his own spark, perhaps he'd find what he needed to indeed make good on those too-sharp vows --
In the pale void of the great blade's jewel, perhaps he'd find what shard of his teacher may remain --