Starting the week with Art
Title: The Art of Deception. (10/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit of violence, minor implications of sex, drugs, self flagelation. Eventual slash.
Characters: Prowl, Lockdown, Jazz.
Setting: G1 AU. Borrows shamelessly from IDW and DW elements as necessary.
Summary: He had been unwanted but he willed himself to survive and old tricks are hard to leave behind.
Notes: This is an AU bunny that I had been keeping under the bunny pile, I don't think it'll be nearly as long as Paint Streaks and Sparkless, but you know how these bunnies tend to be. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are inspired by or belong to snugsbunny and used with permission.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me. I tried to get Lockdown's speech to be somewhat similar to his TFA Speech patterns but not too much. And no, he's got no hook or missmatched parts.
To say he wasn’t impressed and even a little worried over the ‘tone’ of Lockdown’s teaching would have been an absolute lie. In fact, as Prowl watched Lockdown make fast work of one of the youngest students, Prowl couldn’t help but wonder how in the Pit’s name he was going to survive when his turn came.
Oh, he was capable of defending himself and the life in Kaon had prepared him quite efficiently for getting himself as unscathed as possible of any quarrel. That, though, usually implied a healthy amount of dirty fighting, and revealing his own modifications, which he was certain would raise a few questions and suspicions from his classmates and the Academy officials if they were to find out. After all, Prowl was sure claw modifications to his fingers was not a standard mod for goody Academy students.
He could have easily claimed life in Kaon wasn’t easy and the modification became a necessity but he really didn’t want to reveal too much of what his life in Kaon had forced upon him. After all, he came to the Academy with the intent of creating a new life for himself and getting away from Kaon, and dwelling too much into his former life was something he’d rather not do.
After Lockdown thrashed one of the largest students, the black mech with green accents looked around the gathered mechlets, pondering which one should be put to the test now. His red optics locked on Prowl, recognizing immediately the Praxian frame. Lockdown had a very low opinion of most of the Praxian mechs that had been unfortunate enough to be in his classes, most of the time they were at a severe disadvantage as they could be clumsy on their feet for his aggressive fighting style, or the wing panels or fins most of them possessed proved to be a weakness.
“You, get to th’ square now.” Lockdown grunted with a heavy accent. He was certain he was going to crush this one, too, like he had with all others.
As Prowl stood obediently on the middle of the fighting square, Lockdown moved around him, circling him to give a good look to his frame type, giving special attention to the wing panels. He was certain this one wasn’t going to fare well at all. “Warn ya, kid. I ain’t gonna hold back or go easy on ya.”
“I do not expect you to, sir.” Prowl stood unmoving, following with his optics and the sensor array of his wings the movements of his instructor as he circled around him.
“I don’ fight fair either, kid. Expect th’unexpected.” Lockdown continued to circle around Prowl. Going for the wings first would be the easiest thing and would make for a lousy show, well aware many Praxians could be rendered completely useless by applying excessive pressure to the sensory panels, specially the closer one got to the wing joint.
“I’m aware of that, sir.” Prowl kept all his sensor scans on Lockdown. He was certain Lockdown was looking at his panels and wondering whether or not he would attack Prowl’s wings directly. Finally, when Lockdown took a decision it seemed he would go for the wings indeed, but mid swipe he changed directions to grab at his arm instead. Prowl ducked out of the path of Lockdown’s arm and took two steps back, turning around so he was facing the ninja.
“Hmm, good reflexes, kid.” The instructor smirked and took a step back, adopting a more appropriate position and gesturing with his fingers for Prowl to attack him. “Now let’s see what y’can do at th’offensive.”
Prowl knew Lockdown was trying to bait him into showing what he had to offer, and a moment to allow the instructor to analyze his fighting prowess and elaborate proper counterattacks that were likely to leave him with his face plate in close quarters with the floor of the fighting square. He needed to be intelligent and deceptive so he could be able to surprise Lockdown and come out of the match somewhat functional still without giving away all the dirty tricks he had learned on the streets of Kaon.
He stood there for a moment, taking a standard offensive position and flicked his wing panels, gauging the moment. For a few moments it seemed as if neither of them were going to attack until Prowl took a few quick steps forward and lowered himself in the last moment to try to swipe his leg over Lockdown’s and trip him. It didn’t work, as Lockdown jumped back out of the way, and took his arm, throwing him to the other side of the square. Prowl regained his balance before he could fall and tried again with a more direct attack, aiming for the instructor’s mid-section, managing to duck another swipe from Lockdown.
“Not bad kid, but that stuff’s pretty amateur. Typically Praxian.”
Prowl gritted his dental plates at the jab, hating the implication of weakness and attributing it to being of Praxian make. He lunged at Lockdown once more, this time taking advantage of the speed his smaller frame gave him and allowed Lockdown to trap him in his arms into what looked like a real crushing hold. “That was really stupid, kid. S’one way t’get yerself slagged real good.”
Prowl used his knees to try to push himself free of Lockdown’s hold but the instructor’s superior size and strength turned his efforts futile and useless. “Not gonna get outta the deathlock like that, kid.”
“Well then...” Prowl growled softly and reared his head back then brought his forehead hard against Lockdown’s with a loud ‘clank’. The reaction was immediate and Lockdown cried in pain, releasing the mechlet to bring his hands to hold his aching head.
Prowl collapsed to his knees, and barely held himself upright with an arm while the other hand held onto his somewhat dented mid section trying to ease away the pain and summon enough energy to stand up. He could go on and stand up, bringing his claws up to get the instructor down while he was being distracted, but that would be giving away too much and at the moment he was just focusing in keeping up appearances. None of his fellow students had fared well and he wasn’t going to upstage them so blatantly right now, it’d only draw unwanted attention to him.
“That was quite bold of ya, mechlet.” Lockdown, muttered with a smirk. “I gotta admit I hadn’t expected that.”
Prowl panted in real pain but also keeping up his act. “It was the only opening I could get to free myself.”
“Yer crafty, I’ll give ya that.”
Prowl waited with his wing panels twitching constantly to keep tabs on the instructor, on the look out for another blow, should Lockdown try it.
Lockdown gestured a couple of the students to the fighting square to help Prowl up. “Don’t worry kid, I’m lettin’ ya go fer now. I gotta give it t’ya, ya got ball bearings.”
“Thank you, sir.” Prowl winced, hoping the damage to him wouldn’t mean a trip to the medical bay. He wanted to avoid going there for as long as he could.
“Jus’ make sure ya get enough rest, yer self repair will take care o’ the dents.” Lockdown studied Prowl carefully, he didn’t seem all that strong and battle-ready, but he knew better than to go only on appearances. Prowl definitely seemed to be a quick thinker and resourceful, with proper training he could make a much better combatant.
“Jazz, I told ya a million times t’stop peekin’ into my class.” Lockdown glared at one of the rows of locker rooms containing supplies. “Get yer aft over here an’ do somethin’ useful, take yer friend back t’his quarters. I’m done wit’ him fer the time being.”
Jazz grinned a cheeky grin as he peeked from behind one of the lockers. “Sorry!”
“Jazz?” Prowl looked up at his friend when the other black and white mechlet came to his side, helping him to stand up. “What are you doing here?”
“Finished class with Drift early, and decided t’come an’ take a look at how the massacre was goin’.” He grinned at Lockdown who shook his head and would have rolled his optics if the action had been possible.
“Jus’ get yer aft outta my classroom.”
“Yessir!” Jazz saluted and helped Prowl out of the room. When they were back at Prowl’s quarters, Jazz procured him a cube of energon and gauged the damage to Prowl’s abdomen. “Mmm....he really went out on ya, but it ain’t anythin’ that yer self repair can’t work out. The dents ain’t deep enough.”
Prowl flinched a little in pain when Jazz’s black fingers touched the dents to assess the damage. “I thought it would be something I can sleep off.”
“Gotta admit I’m impressed, though.” Jazz smiled and patted Prowl’s dented side gently. “I thought ya might butt heads with Lockdown at some point, but never though ya’d go literal ‘bout it.”
Prowl smiled a little. “I cannot help it, I can be a very literal mech.”
Jazz laughed softly at the joke and patted Prowl’s shoulder. “Well then, jus’ don’t make it a habit with other teachers. Not all of ‘em take kindly ta a literal head buttin’.”
Prowl couldn’t help but picture himself doing just that with Smokescreen and smirked with a chuckle. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Quite a shame, but I don’t wish to be discharged on such dishonorable grounds.”
Jazz laughed and shook his head. “Yer a devious mech, Prowler.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” Jazz’s laughter subsided but he continued to smile at Prowl. “I like that.”
Prowl merely allowed himself to smile wider. “I’m glad.”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit of violence, minor implications of sex, drugs, self flagelation. Eventual slash.
Characters: Prowl, Lockdown, Jazz.
Setting: G1 AU. Borrows shamelessly from IDW and DW elements as necessary.
Summary: He had been unwanted but he willed himself to survive and old tricks are hard to leave behind.
Notes: This is an AU bunny that I had been keeping under the bunny pile, I don't think it'll be nearly as long as Paint Streaks and Sparkless, but you know how these bunnies tend to be. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are inspired by or belong to snugsbunny and used with permission.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me. I tried to get Lockdown's speech to be somewhat similar to his TFA Speech patterns but not too much. And no, he's got no hook or missmatched parts.
To say he wasn’t impressed and even a little worried over the ‘tone’ of Lockdown’s teaching would have been an absolute lie. In fact, as Prowl watched Lockdown make fast work of one of the youngest students, Prowl couldn’t help but wonder how in the Pit’s name he was going to survive when his turn came.
Oh, he was capable of defending himself and the life in Kaon had prepared him quite efficiently for getting himself as unscathed as possible of any quarrel. That, though, usually implied a healthy amount of dirty fighting, and revealing his own modifications, which he was certain would raise a few questions and suspicions from his classmates and the Academy officials if they were to find out. After all, Prowl was sure claw modifications to his fingers was not a standard mod for goody Academy students.
He could have easily claimed life in Kaon wasn’t easy and the modification became a necessity but he really didn’t want to reveal too much of what his life in Kaon had forced upon him. After all, he came to the Academy with the intent of creating a new life for himself and getting away from Kaon, and dwelling too much into his former life was something he’d rather not do.
After Lockdown thrashed one of the largest students, the black mech with green accents looked around the gathered mechlets, pondering which one should be put to the test now. His red optics locked on Prowl, recognizing immediately the Praxian frame. Lockdown had a very low opinion of most of the Praxian mechs that had been unfortunate enough to be in his classes, most of the time they were at a severe disadvantage as they could be clumsy on their feet for his aggressive fighting style, or the wing panels or fins most of them possessed proved to be a weakness.
“You, get to th’ square now.” Lockdown grunted with a heavy accent. He was certain he was going to crush this one, too, like he had with all others.
As Prowl stood obediently on the middle of the fighting square, Lockdown moved around him, circling him to give a good look to his frame type, giving special attention to the wing panels. He was certain this one wasn’t going to fare well at all. “Warn ya, kid. I ain’t gonna hold back or go easy on ya.”
“I do not expect you to, sir.” Prowl stood unmoving, following with his optics and the sensor array of his wings the movements of his instructor as he circled around him.
“I don’ fight fair either, kid. Expect th’unexpected.” Lockdown continued to circle around Prowl. Going for the wings first would be the easiest thing and would make for a lousy show, well aware many Praxians could be rendered completely useless by applying excessive pressure to the sensory panels, specially the closer one got to the wing joint.
“I’m aware of that, sir.” Prowl kept all his sensor scans on Lockdown. He was certain Lockdown was looking at his panels and wondering whether or not he would attack Prowl’s wings directly. Finally, when Lockdown took a decision it seemed he would go for the wings indeed, but mid swipe he changed directions to grab at his arm instead. Prowl ducked out of the path of Lockdown’s arm and took two steps back, turning around so he was facing the ninja.
“Hmm, good reflexes, kid.” The instructor smirked and took a step back, adopting a more appropriate position and gesturing with his fingers for Prowl to attack him. “Now let’s see what y’can do at th’offensive.”
Prowl knew Lockdown was trying to bait him into showing what he had to offer, and a moment to allow the instructor to analyze his fighting prowess and elaborate proper counterattacks that were likely to leave him with his face plate in close quarters with the floor of the fighting square. He needed to be intelligent and deceptive so he could be able to surprise Lockdown and come out of the match somewhat functional still without giving away all the dirty tricks he had learned on the streets of Kaon.
He stood there for a moment, taking a standard offensive position and flicked his wing panels, gauging the moment. For a few moments it seemed as if neither of them were going to attack until Prowl took a few quick steps forward and lowered himself in the last moment to try to swipe his leg over Lockdown’s and trip him. It didn’t work, as Lockdown jumped back out of the way, and took his arm, throwing him to the other side of the square. Prowl regained his balance before he could fall and tried again with a more direct attack, aiming for the instructor’s mid-section, managing to duck another swipe from Lockdown.
“Not bad kid, but that stuff’s pretty amateur. Typically Praxian.”
Prowl gritted his dental plates at the jab, hating the implication of weakness and attributing it to being of Praxian make. He lunged at Lockdown once more, this time taking advantage of the speed his smaller frame gave him and allowed Lockdown to trap him in his arms into what looked like a real crushing hold. “That was really stupid, kid. S’one way t’get yerself slagged real good.”
Prowl used his knees to try to push himself free of Lockdown’s hold but the instructor’s superior size and strength turned his efforts futile and useless. “Not gonna get outta the deathlock like that, kid.”
“Well then...” Prowl growled softly and reared his head back then brought his forehead hard against Lockdown’s with a loud ‘clank’. The reaction was immediate and Lockdown cried in pain, releasing the mechlet to bring his hands to hold his aching head.
Prowl collapsed to his knees, and barely held himself upright with an arm while the other hand held onto his somewhat dented mid section trying to ease away the pain and summon enough energy to stand up. He could go on and stand up, bringing his claws up to get the instructor down while he was being distracted, but that would be giving away too much and at the moment he was just focusing in keeping up appearances. None of his fellow students had fared well and he wasn’t going to upstage them so blatantly right now, it’d only draw unwanted attention to him.
“That was quite bold of ya, mechlet.” Lockdown, muttered with a smirk. “I gotta admit I hadn’t expected that.”
Prowl panted in real pain but also keeping up his act. “It was the only opening I could get to free myself.”
“Yer crafty, I’ll give ya that.”
Prowl waited with his wing panels twitching constantly to keep tabs on the instructor, on the look out for another blow, should Lockdown try it.
Lockdown gestured a couple of the students to the fighting square to help Prowl up. “Don’t worry kid, I’m lettin’ ya go fer now. I gotta give it t’ya, ya got ball bearings.”
“Thank you, sir.” Prowl winced, hoping the damage to him wouldn’t mean a trip to the medical bay. He wanted to avoid going there for as long as he could.
“Jus’ make sure ya get enough rest, yer self repair will take care o’ the dents.” Lockdown studied Prowl carefully, he didn’t seem all that strong and battle-ready, but he knew better than to go only on appearances. Prowl definitely seemed to be a quick thinker and resourceful, with proper training he could make a much better combatant.
“Jazz, I told ya a million times t’stop peekin’ into my class.” Lockdown glared at one of the rows of locker rooms containing supplies. “Get yer aft over here an’ do somethin’ useful, take yer friend back t’his quarters. I’m done wit’ him fer the time being.”
Jazz grinned a cheeky grin as he peeked from behind one of the lockers. “Sorry!”
“Jazz?” Prowl looked up at his friend when the other black and white mechlet came to his side, helping him to stand up. “What are you doing here?”
“Finished class with Drift early, and decided t’come an’ take a look at how the massacre was goin’.” He grinned at Lockdown who shook his head and would have rolled his optics if the action had been possible.
“Jus’ get yer aft outta my classroom.”
“Yessir!” Jazz saluted and helped Prowl out of the room. When they were back at Prowl’s quarters, Jazz procured him a cube of energon and gauged the damage to Prowl’s abdomen. “Mmm....he really went out on ya, but it ain’t anythin’ that yer self repair can’t work out. The dents ain’t deep enough.”
Prowl flinched a little in pain when Jazz’s black fingers touched the dents to assess the damage. “I thought it would be something I can sleep off.”
“Gotta admit I’m impressed, though.” Jazz smiled and patted Prowl’s dented side gently. “I thought ya might butt heads with Lockdown at some point, but never though ya’d go literal ‘bout it.”
Prowl smiled a little. “I cannot help it, I can be a very literal mech.”
Jazz laughed softly at the joke and patted Prowl’s shoulder. “Well then, jus’ don’t make it a habit with other teachers. Not all of ‘em take kindly ta a literal head buttin’.”
Prowl couldn’t help but picture himself doing just that with Smokescreen and smirked with a chuckle. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Quite a shame, but I don’t wish to be discharged on such dishonorable grounds.”
Jazz laughed and shook his head. “Yer a devious mech, Prowler.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” Jazz’s laughter subsided but he continued to smile at Prowl. “I like that.”
Prowl merely allowed himself to smile wider. “I’m glad.”