Look, a firefly! Firefly! Firefly! ... BAT!!!
Title: The Nine Rings of Vos: Rebellion
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Count all your blessings twice.
Timeline: More fic here.
=/=
(In which Glitterblind is at work.)
When she was younger, Glitterblind would never have guessed that she would wind up where she was. The pale Contrastes would not trade her job for the world though. It was interesting to see how they all ended up working together. She could remember Lord Starscream as a youngling she had watched over when his sister needed a break. How odd it was to have such memories of the mech who was now her Winglord! Stranger still to look around her and realize that it was she who watched over the future of their kind.
Overseer of the Crèche. Glitterblind held a position on par with that of the High Priest, the Air Commander, the Chief of the Guardians. She had a say in the rule of the city-state. It was her responsibility to see to the safety and wellbeing of the sparklings. How strange life could be! She had expected to become a psychiatrist, or perhaps a medic. Yet the winds of fate had brought her here, to the High Tower itself.
How wondrous life was, when reality proved grander than dreams.
Glitterblind chuckled at her thoughts and opened the door to the Crèche, stepping into full-blown chaos.
“Sirencall, teasing your brother you will stop. Backstab, play nicely you will, or in time out you will go. Scopeout, a sniper you are not yet, so down from the ceiling you will come.” Glitterblind strode forward and plucked her second creation off her perch above the door, placing the scowling little femme down next to her brothers before turning around. “Runabout, Runamuck, yourselves from my assistant remove. Useful to me he still is. Casanova, know better you do than the twins in their mischief assist. The toy chest you will unlock, and my apprentice free. Now. Else only yourself to blame will you have when at snack time no jellies for you there are.”
“Yes, Matter.” Sirencall said, grabbing his younger siblings' hands.
“Sorry, Matron.” Casanova grinned as he hopped off the crate from which pitiful moaning sounds escaped.
“I didn’t do nothing!” Backstab insisted, trying to yank his hand away from his older brother.
“Not it!” Runamuck said gleefully, jumping off the hogtied adult he had been helping his twin torment.
“Okay, okay.” Scopeout sighed, looking wistfully up at the mantels and hugging her light gun to her chest with one arm.
“Banzai!” Runabout giggled, scrambling after his brother with a wild grin.
Weathervane whimpered as Glitterblind cut him lose and hauled him up, tsk-ing in exasperation. Lookout clung when she pulled him out of the toy chest. Glitterblind sighed through her vents. It was so hard to find good help these solar cycles. Still, they had the training and skills if not the experience, so she sent them off the deal with the less strenuous task of looking in on low-risk carriers. High-risk patients (like her charming, insane Winglord and the other mad scientists who were testing that fantastic little sparkling-making concoction they had whipped up) Glitterblind dealt with herself, and would continue to do so until her lovely assistants stopped collapsing in twitching piles at the end of every duty shift.
Absently plucking a welding torch out of Runamuck’s hands and lifting a pair of pliers from Runabout before the twins could rewire yet another harmless toy into a bomb, Glitterblind left the playroom under the command of an older Flightless. Throwdown was long since retired from serving on the walls and was more than capable of maintaining control over some rowdy Seekerlets without even stirring from him comfortable spot by the door. The Crèche Matron made a mental note to return the tools to Lord Starscream when he came to pick up his hatchlings. The Winglord was always so pleased to hear how clever his winglets were.
First Glitterblind checked the stasis pods, where the sparklings and hatchlings of Seekers stationed outside of Vos were kept safe until their parents returned. Normal mechs would be able to take their creations with them when work called them away, but not so with Seekers. To do so would be to invite trouble from the Peacekeepers. You might as well hand the bitlet over to the government science programs with a bow on top and have done with it!
Pausing in her rounds, Glitterblind fought for control over her temper. There was no call for her to make a scene. No. Calm. Control. Work. Good.
Next were the upgrade pods, where Seekerlings of all ages hung suspended in the clear amber gel that eased the transition into a new shell as they moved from one stage to the next. Glitterblind paid careful attention to the readouts on each occupied pod. The rapid jump in spark field density that marked the need for an upgrade required a constant feed of raw materials, energon, and blank nanites to supplement the old as the new shell was built up from the previous stage. It was possible for a sparkling to upgrade without the pod, but it took longer, was far more painful, and placed a great deal of stress on the little sparks. Better for all concerned that they be placed in the pods.
Glitterblind sighed through her vents again as she checked the last occupied pod. The vast underground room could hold hundreds of Seekerlings. Only a few dozen pods were in use. Once, this room would have been filled to capacity with the sparklings of the Seekers who dwelled in the city proper and Glitterblind would have travelled around the state visiting the aeries to check on the smaller crèches for those who lived among the cliffs. That was all long, long ago. That was before the dark times, before the raids and the slavery and the culling. Now it was all the Seekers could do to maintain their numbers from generation to generation. It was a struggle, and Glitterblind could see her people dwindling, little by little as they suffered. Rarely did Skyborn produce more than the required duty sparkling, too terrified of taking the risk more than once. The Flightless were doing what they could to help, but more and more it meant taking up positions outside the state or in Praxus. They were dying by degrees.
Or they had been.
Sharp and feral, Glitterblind’s smile gleamed in the dim lighting like the blade of a knife.
Seekers always found a way to survive. They never gave up. They never gave in. They fought, until there was nothing left.
Soon. Soon, things would change. Glitterblind comforted herself with that thought, as plans were in motion to insure their survival.
With one last, lingering look at the near-empty pod chamber, Glitterblind turned on her turbine and headed out the doors. Nodding politely to the force of guards and medical techs that were always on duty to watch the little ones, Glitterblind strode along the tunnel that led her outside and flew upward as soon as she reached the open air. There was another planning session scheduled for today, and it would not do to be late.
(Word Count: 1177)
=/=
Someone, I forget who, asked me about 'Seeker Daycare'. This is it.
Also, have finally hammered out exactly how Cybertronians 'grow' in this verse. Am subscribing to the idea that 'living metal' is comprised of nanites, which are powered and directed by the spark. Which is why 'spark codes' influence the cosmetic appearance and alternate mode of Cybertronians in this verse. 'Upgrading' (in the sense that a hatching upgrades into a youngling) happens when the spark has a growth spurt, increases energy output strength, and can power more nanites. An upgrade for a sparkling is basically adding a bunch of new nanites which then reconfigure the sparkling for the next stage up. This is made significantly easier by use of an upgrade pod. Without it, the constant attention of a caregiver is needed to help the sparkling integrate the new material into its protoform. (The Casseticons had issues with upgrade delay because they a: were unable to get enough blank nanites or raw materials to produce their own (a slower but equally valid method) b: were in shells that conflicted with their core codes, and c: did not have the energy to integrate the upgrades alone.) Scars happen with damage deep and bad enough to mess with the nanites function cycles. (Basically an error message in the energy transmission.) So the nanites end up static and stiff (like frozen rubber) making the area in question more brittle and prone to damgage and corrosion. Which is why Wheeljack wears the face mask, it keeps 'infections' out of his scars. Changes to the outer frame (optic colour, adding/removing kibble) is akin to a cross between genetic modification and plastic surgery. It's easier to go back to the original frameset than it is to modify or disguise the shell, but it can still mess up your nanites if you do too much or do it too often. Which is why most of the disguised Seekerkin mostly went for removing the backpanels and minor helm mods, with some visors and/or battle masks thrown in for flavour.
... That is all.
So I got to practice crossing the border today. Picked up my mother from the airport in Buffalo, NY. The airline lost her luggage, which was naht cool. But she got to see wild mustanges in Colorado and had a great time at her clinic, which was good for her.
I start my temp job tomorrow. Yay for manual labour jobs that pay cash! Will probably check out the local fair after work, but am not expecting much.
ONLY TWO WEEKS UNTIL BOTCON!!! *vibrates!*
Also: I got all three letters, and will be making the dinner reservations tomorrow night.
Here there be dragons! I think that when I get around to breeding my next set of Hellfire/Nebula eggs I'm going to try and breed Unicron and Primus together. Just for the giggles. I already have some names picked out for the resultant offspring, should they deign to occur.
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Count all your blessings twice.
Timeline: More fic here.
=/=
(In which Glitterblind is at work.)
When she was younger, Glitterblind would never have guessed that she would wind up where she was. The pale Contrastes would not trade her job for the world though. It was interesting to see how they all ended up working together. She could remember Lord Starscream as a youngling she had watched over when his sister needed a break. How odd it was to have such memories of the mech who was now her Winglord! Stranger still to look around her and realize that it was she who watched over the future of their kind.
Overseer of the Crèche. Glitterblind held a position on par with that of the High Priest, the Air Commander, the Chief of the Guardians. She had a say in the rule of the city-state. It was her responsibility to see to the safety and wellbeing of the sparklings. How strange life could be! She had expected to become a psychiatrist, or perhaps a medic. Yet the winds of fate had brought her here, to the High Tower itself.
How wondrous life was, when reality proved grander than dreams.
Glitterblind chuckled at her thoughts and opened the door to the Crèche, stepping into full-blown chaos.
“Sirencall, teasing your brother you will stop. Backstab, play nicely you will, or in time out you will go. Scopeout, a sniper you are not yet, so down from the ceiling you will come.” Glitterblind strode forward and plucked her second creation off her perch above the door, placing the scowling little femme down next to her brothers before turning around. “Runabout, Runamuck, yourselves from my assistant remove. Useful to me he still is. Casanova, know better you do than the twins in their mischief assist. The toy chest you will unlock, and my apprentice free. Now. Else only yourself to blame will you have when at snack time no jellies for you there are.”
“Yes, Matter.” Sirencall said, grabbing his younger siblings' hands.
“Sorry, Matron.” Casanova grinned as he hopped off the crate from which pitiful moaning sounds escaped.
“I didn’t do nothing!” Backstab insisted, trying to yank his hand away from his older brother.
“Not it!” Runamuck said gleefully, jumping off the hogtied adult he had been helping his twin torment.
“Okay, okay.” Scopeout sighed, looking wistfully up at the mantels and hugging her light gun to her chest with one arm.
“Banzai!” Runabout giggled, scrambling after his brother with a wild grin.
Weathervane whimpered as Glitterblind cut him lose and hauled him up, tsk-ing in exasperation. Lookout clung when she pulled him out of the toy chest. Glitterblind sighed through her vents. It was so hard to find good help these solar cycles. Still, they had the training and skills if not the experience, so she sent them off the deal with the less strenuous task of looking in on low-risk carriers. High-risk patients (like her charming, insane Winglord and the other mad scientists who were testing that fantastic little sparkling-making concoction they had whipped up) Glitterblind dealt with herself, and would continue to do so until her lovely assistants stopped collapsing in twitching piles at the end of every duty shift.
Absently plucking a welding torch out of Runamuck’s hands and lifting a pair of pliers from Runabout before the twins could rewire yet another harmless toy into a bomb, Glitterblind left the playroom under the command of an older Flightless. Throwdown was long since retired from serving on the walls and was more than capable of maintaining control over some rowdy Seekerlets without even stirring from him comfortable spot by the door. The Crèche Matron made a mental note to return the tools to Lord Starscream when he came to pick up his hatchlings. The Winglord was always so pleased to hear how clever his winglets were.
First Glitterblind checked the stasis pods, where the sparklings and hatchlings of Seekers stationed outside of Vos were kept safe until their parents returned. Normal mechs would be able to take their creations with them when work called them away, but not so with Seekers. To do so would be to invite trouble from the Peacekeepers. You might as well hand the bitlet over to the government science programs with a bow on top and have done with it!
Pausing in her rounds, Glitterblind fought for control over her temper. There was no call for her to make a scene. No. Calm. Control. Work. Good.
Next were the upgrade pods, where Seekerlings of all ages hung suspended in the clear amber gel that eased the transition into a new shell as they moved from one stage to the next. Glitterblind paid careful attention to the readouts on each occupied pod. The rapid jump in spark field density that marked the need for an upgrade required a constant feed of raw materials, energon, and blank nanites to supplement the old as the new shell was built up from the previous stage. It was possible for a sparkling to upgrade without the pod, but it took longer, was far more painful, and placed a great deal of stress on the little sparks. Better for all concerned that they be placed in the pods.
Glitterblind sighed through her vents again as she checked the last occupied pod. The vast underground room could hold hundreds of Seekerlings. Only a few dozen pods were in use. Once, this room would have been filled to capacity with the sparklings of the Seekers who dwelled in the city proper and Glitterblind would have travelled around the state visiting the aeries to check on the smaller crèches for those who lived among the cliffs. That was all long, long ago. That was before the dark times, before the raids and the slavery and the culling. Now it was all the Seekers could do to maintain their numbers from generation to generation. It was a struggle, and Glitterblind could see her people dwindling, little by little as they suffered. Rarely did Skyborn produce more than the required duty sparkling, too terrified of taking the risk more than once. The Flightless were doing what they could to help, but more and more it meant taking up positions outside the state or in Praxus. They were dying by degrees.
Or they had been.
Sharp and feral, Glitterblind’s smile gleamed in the dim lighting like the blade of a knife.
Seekers always found a way to survive. They never gave up. They never gave in. They fought, until there was nothing left.
Soon. Soon, things would change. Glitterblind comforted herself with that thought, as plans were in motion to insure their survival.
With one last, lingering look at the near-empty pod chamber, Glitterblind turned on her turbine and headed out the doors. Nodding politely to the force of guards and medical techs that were always on duty to watch the little ones, Glitterblind strode along the tunnel that led her outside and flew upward as soon as she reached the open air. There was another planning session scheduled for today, and it would not do to be late.
(Word Count: 1177)
=/=
Someone, I forget who, asked me about 'Seeker Daycare'. This is it.
Also, have finally hammered out exactly how Cybertronians 'grow' in this verse. Am subscribing to the idea that 'living metal' is comprised of nanites, which are powered and directed by the spark. Which is why 'spark codes' influence the cosmetic appearance and alternate mode of Cybertronians in this verse. 'Upgrading' (in the sense that a hatching upgrades into a youngling) happens when the spark has a growth spurt, increases energy output strength, and can power more nanites. An upgrade for a sparkling is basically adding a bunch of new nanites which then reconfigure the sparkling for the next stage up. This is made significantly easier by use of an upgrade pod. Without it, the constant attention of a caregiver is needed to help the sparkling integrate the new material into its protoform. (The Casseticons had issues with upgrade delay because they a: were unable to get enough blank nanites or raw materials to produce their own (a slower but equally valid method) b: were in shells that conflicted with their core codes, and c: did not have the energy to integrate the upgrades alone.) Scars happen with damage deep and bad enough to mess with the nanites function cycles. (Basically an error message in the energy transmission.) So the nanites end up static and stiff (like frozen rubber) making the area in question more brittle and prone to damgage and corrosion. Which is why Wheeljack wears the face mask, it keeps 'infections' out of his scars. Changes to the outer frame (optic colour, adding/removing kibble) is akin to a cross between genetic modification and plastic surgery. It's easier to go back to the original frameset than it is to modify or disguise the shell, but it can still mess up your nanites if you do too much or do it too often. Which is why most of the disguised Seekerkin mostly went for removing the backpanels and minor helm mods, with some visors and/or battle masks thrown in for flavour.
... That is all.
So I got to practice crossing the border today. Picked up my mother from the airport in Buffalo, NY. The airline lost her luggage, which was naht cool. But she got to see wild mustanges in Colorado and had a great time at her clinic, which was good for her.
I start my temp job tomorrow. Yay for manual labour jobs that pay cash! Will probably check out the local fair after work, but am not expecting much.
ONLY TWO WEEKS UNTIL BOTCON!!! *vibrates!*
Also: I got all three letters, and will be making the dinner reservations tomorrow night.
Here there be dragons! I think that when I get around to breeding my next set of Hellfire/Nebula eggs I'm going to try and breed Unicron and Primus together. Just for the giggles. I already have some names picked out for the resultant offspring, should they deign to occur.
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠
♣
♠