Dreamers and Dancers - Prologue
Verse: G1 (pre-Earth)
Characters: Jazz, OCs (no, they're not Sues, please give them a chance)
Pairings: there might be Prowl/Jazz in later chapters. MIGHT be... Not in this one though
Rating: PG
Warnings: erm... dancing? mentions of vices.
Summary: Jazz's life-story is a rainbow, and she's just one of the many colors.
Notes: This is a spin-off from my Hit It Maestro verse (the story of Jazz's creator and creation). Don't need to know it to understand this, but certain things from that story will be referred to in this one. This is also based on something that was revealed in an RP about Jazz being a dancer. What kind of dancer? You'll have to read to find out.
Disclaimer: The TFs belong to Has/Tak; OCs belong to me.
Dreamers And Dancers
He was just a youngling when I met him.
Oh, not so literally. In appearance he was quite the grown up youth, but on the inside and in his face he still had some of that naïve youngling innocence - even if what I heard was true and he had been living on the streets a while without a creator. Yet he didn’t look like one of those street bruisers.
He had a certain grace about him and it was apparent in the way he moved. Not that any regular street lout would be able to tell, but when I looked at him, I could tell he was built to perform.
His structure was light, curves in the right places to enhance the beauty of movement, and even though he was drab-colored - just black and white with only a touch of light blue on his hips - he made it work for him. Someone obviously knew what they wanted him to be when they built him.
I knew he was from out of town. I knew he was new to the trade. He had the grace, the body, the rhythm; he obviously loved music, and he was cute to boot even if we couldn’t see his optics. He had a smile that could break sparks - if he knew how to use it right.
“He’s not bad,” Quickstep, my sister-in-trade, said as we watched him from where we were seated.
We’d heard there were some new sparkies in town, so here we were, checking out the competition, you could say.
“Got some raw talent there,” Foxtrot, my other ‘sister’, added.
“Raw talent alone won’t put creds in his hand,” I said. “He may have the traits, but unless he learns how to put them all together, he won’t make it.” I could feel their gazes on me. “Still… with raw talent and a face like that…”
“He’s too young for you, Tango,” Quickstep said with that smirk of hers. She scrutinized the young mech. “Probably a virgin.”
I smacked her forearm. “Mind out of the slag-heap, you. I’m not interested in breaking him into THAT world, but if he’s looking to break into ours, the least he could do with is a little guidance.”
Foxtrot looked him over and nodded. “Well, it WOULD be a shame to lose this one to the gutters. Are you going to take him in then?”
“Considering the alternative would be to leave him to the tender mercies of the two of you, or worse…”
“We’re not that bad.” Foxtrot slapped me on the back. “But you’re right about the ‘worse’ part. So you better go get him before someone else does.” She nodded to a large Neutral mech leering at the sparky. “Fragger probably picked up on the ‘virgin’, too.”
I cursed the reputation of this town that brought all the filth in, as I got up and headed to the stage where the young bot was just finishing his… piece, cutting off the Neutral bruiser in the process.
“New to this town, huh, Sparky?” I asked as he jumped off the stage. If he was tired, he didn’t show it. “Got a place to stay?”
He raised his head and, despite his optics being covered, I knew he was studying me. He was shorter than he looked on stage, the highest point being the two little horns on his head that came up to my jaw. A cute little ball of energy, could it get any better?
“Not really,” he answered. “You offerin’?”
By Primus, that voice! It honestly sounded like the mech was singing every word that came out of his mouth. He had a slight accent that confirmed he was from out of town, but it only enhanced the voice even more.
“Ma’am?”
I realized I was staring. “I suppose I am.”
“How much do ya want for the night?” he asked, sounding wary. “For the lodgin’ that is.”
Hmm… he seemed to know his way around the streets somewhat. “How much do you have?”
“Well… enough for a bit o’ energon and… yeah, that’s it.” He smiled a bit.
“I’m not charging,” I said.
“No offense, ma’am, but folk rarely let another bot stay with ‘em for free; they usually want somethin’ out of it,” he replied.
Definitely street-smart, I sensed. Perhaps he’d lived on the streets a while. “Well, let’s just say Primus has smiled on me for a while and it’s time I re-paid his good graces if I want him to keep smiling.”
The mech smiled a little more, understanding I meant no harm. “Ah, divine favors, I get ya.”
I smiled back and nodded. “Something like that. So, coming?”
“Lead the way.” He started to follow me out of the club, not seeing the smirks Quickstep and Foxtrot threw at me. “Didn’t catch your name though.”
“Tango.”
“Nice t’meet ya. I’m Jazz.”
~~~~~~~~~~
'sparkies' is somewhat of a Cybertronian term for 'kids'. Singular is 'sparky'
Enjoy!
Characters: Jazz, OCs (no, they're not Sues, please give them a chance)
Pairings: there might be Prowl/Jazz in later chapters. MIGHT be... Not in this one though
Rating: PG
Warnings: erm... dancing? mentions of vices.
Summary: Jazz's life-story is a rainbow, and she's just one of the many colors.
Notes: This is a spin-off from my Hit It Maestro verse (the story of Jazz's creator and creation). Don't need to know it to understand this, but certain things from that story will be referred to in this one. This is also based on something that was revealed in an RP about Jazz being a dancer. What kind of dancer? You'll have to read to find out.
Disclaimer: The TFs belong to Has/Tak; OCs belong to me.
Dreamers And Dancers
He was just a youngling when I met him.
Oh, not so literally. In appearance he was quite the grown up youth, but on the inside and in his face he still had some of that naïve youngling innocence - even if what I heard was true and he had been living on the streets a while without a creator. Yet he didn’t look like one of those street bruisers.
He had a certain grace about him and it was apparent in the way he moved. Not that any regular street lout would be able to tell, but when I looked at him, I could tell he was built to perform.
His structure was light, curves in the right places to enhance the beauty of movement, and even though he was drab-colored - just black and white with only a touch of light blue on his hips - he made it work for him. Someone obviously knew what they wanted him to be when they built him.
I knew he was from out of town. I knew he was new to the trade. He had the grace, the body, the rhythm; he obviously loved music, and he was cute to boot even if we couldn’t see his optics. He had a smile that could break sparks - if he knew how to use it right.
“He’s not bad,” Quickstep, my sister-in-trade, said as we watched him from where we were seated.
We’d heard there were some new sparkies in town, so here we were, checking out the competition, you could say.
“Got some raw talent there,” Foxtrot, my other ‘sister’, added.
“Raw talent alone won’t put creds in his hand,” I said. “He may have the traits, but unless he learns how to put them all together, he won’t make it.” I could feel their gazes on me. “Still… with raw talent and a face like that…”
“He’s too young for you, Tango,” Quickstep said with that smirk of hers. She scrutinized the young mech. “Probably a virgin.”
I smacked her forearm. “Mind out of the slag-heap, you. I’m not interested in breaking him into THAT world, but if he’s looking to break into ours, the least he could do with is a little guidance.”
Foxtrot looked him over and nodded. “Well, it WOULD be a shame to lose this one to the gutters. Are you going to take him in then?”
“Considering the alternative would be to leave him to the tender mercies of the two of you, or worse…”
“We’re not that bad.” Foxtrot slapped me on the back. “But you’re right about the ‘worse’ part. So you better go get him before someone else does.” She nodded to a large Neutral mech leering at the sparky. “Fragger probably picked up on the ‘virgin’, too.”
I cursed the reputation of this town that brought all the filth in, as I got up and headed to the stage where the young bot was just finishing his… piece, cutting off the Neutral bruiser in the process.
“New to this town, huh, Sparky?” I asked as he jumped off the stage. If he was tired, he didn’t show it. “Got a place to stay?”
He raised his head and, despite his optics being covered, I knew he was studying me. He was shorter than he looked on stage, the highest point being the two little horns on his head that came up to my jaw. A cute little ball of energy, could it get any better?
“Not really,” he answered. “You offerin’?”
By Primus, that voice! It honestly sounded like the mech was singing every word that came out of his mouth. He had a slight accent that confirmed he was from out of town, but it only enhanced the voice even more.
“Ma’am?”
I realized I was staring. “I suppose I am.”
“How much do ya want for the night?” he asked, sounding wary. “For the lodgin’ that is.”
Hmm… he seemed to know his way around the streets somewhat. “How much do you have?”
“Well… enough for a bit o’ energon and… yeah, that’s it.” He smiled a bit.
“I’m not charging,” I said.
“No offense, ma’am, but folk rarely let another bot stay with ‘em for free; they usually want somethin’ out of it,” he replied.
Definitely street-smart, I sensed. Perhaps he’d lived on the streets a while. “Well, let’s just say Primus has smiled on me for a while and it’s time I re-paid his good graces if I want him to keep smiling.”
The mech smiled a little more, understanding I meant no harm. “Ah, divine favors, I get ya.”
I smiled back and nodded. “Something like that. So, coming?”
“Lead the way.” He started to follow me out of the club, not seeing the smirks Quickstep and Foxtrot threw at me. “Didn’t catch your name though.”
“Tango.”
“Nice t’meet ya. I’m Jazz.”
~~~~~~~~~~
'sparkies' is somewhat of a Cybertronian term for 'kids'. Singular is 'sparky'
Enjoy!