On your face, get there! Too slow! Jumping jacks, begin!
So I'm back from the camp of the boot and the journey has begun. Being so long away from computers and stories and time to actually think up new stuff, I feel a bit deprived. So to steal from Jo's meme, I'd like to offer the Alphabet! And P-bots. Can't forget the P-bots
( Read more... )
"Hey, lookit this, Grimlock," the commander said, holding up an old pistol. One of many in this dusty warehouse.
"That belong to him Prowl," Grimlock replied knowlingly. Faults the Dinobot had, but the general knew his weapons. He took his place near the helo and began sifting through box after box.
"Yeah... I didn't know we saved stuff like that." Blades pondered the weapon a moment longer before putting it into a new box; one to be added to the new museum Optimus was talking about building. How he ended up with the job of sorting and categorizing their old weapons and tools he'd never know. At least he wasn't stuck writing and digging up old historical records like First Aid and Skydive. Thank Primus for small mercies.
Grimlock held up a pair of shock staffs for Blades to see. The commander let out an appreciative whistle. Even millenia after the war, the twins' staffs looked newly polished. Perhaps there was something to say for Sunstreaker's OCD cleaning habits. "Definitely save those." The Dinobot nodded in agreement and set them aside.
One by one they went through the old stockpiles of weapons. Some were deemed good or special enough to keep and some were too damaged to be of any use. Later, they would be further categorized. Now and then they would run across something that would make the two mechs pause; a knife or gun belonging to a fallen comrade, or even one of their own forgotten weapons. Each one held a memory for them.
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Laying down the med-kit, Blades spotted a larger toolbox off to the side. It was half-rusted and banged up. There were suspicious burn marks adoring the sides. Curious, the red and white walked over to retrieve it.
"Slag..."
"What?" Grimlock glanced over and went still. "Him Wheeljack..."
"Yeah. His tools." Probably the same ones that helepd build both of them, once upon a time. The Chief Engineer always used his best tools for the most important of tasks. Optimus would want these... they would be valuable additions to his museum. But... it seemed too personal for their primary creator's things to be displayed. Blades wanted to pocket this toolbox, and Ratchet's, and keep them. Surely their creators would want their prized possessions to go to those that loved them most.
"Not ours," the Dinobot general rumbled quietly, as though desiring the same thing. "They... always teach. Him Prime should have. For museum. For teaching."
The elder had a point, the helicopter noted with unhappiness. "That's it for today, Grimlock," he announced, setting Wheeljack's toolbox beside Ratchet's. Not before subspacing something for himself first, of course.
Grimlock nodded and stood up with him, his own momento tucked safely in a subspace pocket. He didn't think he could keep going either. Tomorrow would be better... today just had too many old memories brought up.
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