Should I Continue?
Had a load o' bad dreams last night. It was like livin' a moment in life that hasn't happened yet. According t' my dream - which was th' same dream over 'n over again, btw - somethin's gonna happen on my new job in two days, an' I apparen't ain't gonna like it one bit.
Needed to blow off some steam an' get my head back in order. So... I ended up drinkin' a cup o' coffee, eatin' an apple for breakfast, an' of all things writin' this...
Title: Currently Untitled
Rating: T
Pairings: ProwlxJazz
Characters: Prowl, Jazz
Author's Note: None
Warnings: Violence
Jazz had known Prowl for a long time. Since the Academy, really, even if neither of them had known it then. He was one of the few mechs who had seen just about every personality detail the tactician had to offer. After all, personality circuits were only as extensive as the algorithms making them up. Prowl’s were complex, but limited, hindered by his advanced logic center. Also, he’d been there to watch Prowl’s current personality matrix as the circuit boards themselves had been installed, so he could say he knew even the physical details as well!
And THIS was not a facet of Prowl he liked to see.
The 2IC had trashed his office near to the point of…well, there wasn’t much left. The desk terminal was dented, spewing sparks from what were very obviously fist imprints. Gouges adorned the walls, traced by white paint transfer. It gave the space an unwelcome, jagged appearance. The Porsche knew what kind of damage those door-wings of Prowl’s could REALLY do when the Datsun set his processor to it. Unlike Bluestreak and Smokescreen, Prowl’s sensory panels were never meant for just one purpose. In fact, picking up information on his surroundings was only the secondary to its first use.
Prowl himself sat sprawled out in front of his desk, his helm leaning back against the metal with optics offline. A half emptied container was clutched loosely in his right hand. Hot pink. A very vibrant hue at that. It was high-grade, the saboteur observed, although it was far stronger than anything even he himself had developed thus far. The black and white’s systems were too sensitive to handle much more than a small quantity of mid-grade. It was amazing that half the cube hadn’t put the Datsun-former into a shutdown state, or even stasis lock. Jazz sighed, kneeling down on one knee at his side, scanning Prowl’s inert form. The normally pristine, white knuckles of his hands were scared, the black and much darker undercoat showing through. The original paint scheme. Why Prowl had chosen to keep it and just paint over it was beyond him. It’d be easier to simply remove it…and probably better on the sanity of the CPU.
A light groan rose from Prowl’s vocalize as Jazz gently traced the small wounds along the misused door-wings.
“Thought ya’d be offline by now, Prowler.” He sat back on his heels, arms resting on his thighs to keep balance. “Ya really went off the edge this time, m’mech.”
The deeper, growling voice which modulated out was not Prowl’s. “Barricade. Not Prowl.” Red, not blue, optics blared on momentarily before offlining into darkness again.
Good. He wasn’t able to move. Made his job easier. “Too bad we weren’t able t’ get those codes from Sentinel Prime. Keepin’ ya in the right processor wouldn’t be so hard.” Jazz withdrew a large syringe from subspace. The cool purple liquid inside the translucent vial shimmered bright, almost like energon.
Last time hadn’t been as easy as this. The strategist had given one Pit of a fight then. This time, not even a wince when the needle was inserted into the main energon line. A temporary patch was a good enough repair for the puncture until the self repair systems came back online. Last processor lapse had Jazz utilizing his own self repair mechanisms as well as some of Ratchet’s more tender care. The sound of systems shutting down greeted his audios only a cycle later. Now he could move Prowl to the medbay, and to Ratchet.
The saboteur had honestly thought he’d known everything about Prowl…at least at the start. He’d honestly had no clue about the other’s origins until after the death of Sentinel Prime. Well… He knew some of the basics. Prowl was from Praxus, and indeed he had spent several stellar cycles there working his way up to a position under the Prime in the Security Services. Later, Sentinel’s deactivation had released several previously classified records to certified individuals. He’d been one of them, and Prowl’s secret had been among one the material. The only thing stranger was that Prowl himself hadn’t even known.
Indeed, PROWL was from Praxus…
…but Prowl hadn’t always been Prowl.
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