Prompt post 2/26 ninja go!
Title: The Nine Rings of Vos: War
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Airwave is a calm, rational sort of mech. He is in no way likely to attempt to climb out the window in order to avoid meeting his wife's wingmate's brother.
Timeline: For more evidence of how much I enjoy emotinally torturing my characters, click here.
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(In which Airwave meets Starscream.)
“Calm down.” Overcast murmured gently, one huge hand pressed down on magenta plating to still the nervous thrum of shaking wings.
“I am calm. Why would you say that? I am calm. I am the calmest. How dare you suggest otherwise.” Airwave muttered back, half to himself as he twitched away from where his mate loomed in hulking amusement, anticipating the swiftly approaching moment of total doom. Calm down, hah! Easy for Overcast to say, what with him being all huge and strong and controlling the weather and devastatingly attractive and skilful with those great big hands of his, mmm...
Aaaaand off topic again, that happened far too frequently these days, stupid mate, being so delectable and distracting. Airwave pouted, glaring out-of-focus at the wall before he shook his head. Focus, right, this is panic time, not perving-on-mate time.
Besides, Overcast’s younger brother was Lord Starscream’s Air Commander! There was never anything for Overcast to worry about, he was nobility in his own right! Airwave was just a particularly clever smuggler with a talent for petty larceny and some skills in signal jamming. Lord Starscream was going to take one look at him and defenestrate Airwave’s lazy aft right out of the High Tower!
“Oh Primus, I’m going to diiiieeee...” Airwave moaned, whirling around in order to fling himself straight into Overcast’s arms. The larger Seeker caught his melodramatic wingmate easily, having been expecting the turnaround. Airwave whined pitifully, the glow of his optics soft and scattered as he wrapped his arms around his mate’s torso, gazing up with a mournful expression. “Pleeease just let me go back to the base, we can do this some other time, okay? Okay, just unlock the door and we can go, and leave a message saying so sorry, had to fly, we’ll catch up later. I’m sure Lord Starscream has more important things to do, so he’ll probably be glad to skip this whole foolishness. This is a foolish thing. After all, he only has what? A few cycles, maybe? A few cycles until the Decepticon’s start to wonder where their Air Commander has wandered off to. So I’m trying to be thoughtful here, letting him have more time to focus on important Winglord type things instead of bothering him with this silliness.”
“... The whole point of today was for you to meet Slipstream’s brother.” Overcast reminded his drooping mate once the flow of words came to a temporary halt. The blue Seeker grinned helplessly as Airwave’s hopeful pity-me expression melted into a face of utter betrayal how can you do this to me I thought you loved me and oh Primus you have a brother too, I just remembered I am going to have to go through this horrible torture a second time. Overcast shook his head in bemusement. “Suck it up, wingmate, you’re meeting Slipstream’s flock today whether you like it or not.”
“Cruel. You are cruel and mean and horrible!” Airwave slumped, draping all of his weight into Overcast’s hold. “You’ll be sorry, you’ll see, oh yes. I will die. I will be dead and then you’ll say, oh woe, sorrow and agony abounds, if only I had not mocked poor, dear Airwave’s completely justified misgivings! Forgive me, my beloved sparkmate, your unjust end came too soon! There will be weeping and wailing and then you and Slipstream will have to throw yourselves on to my funeral pyre in a wretched fit of inconsolable guilt in order to beg my lingering spirit for forgiveness in order to atone for the parts you played in my lamentable demise.”
“Will we now.” Overcast shifted so that Airwave rested more comfortably against him, looking up from the downturned white helm when the previously locked-to-prevent-Airwave’s-timely-escape door slid open to allow entrance to a pair of familiar figures. Looking down again, Overcast distracted his woeful mate like a champ. “You’re sure about all of that then?”
“You know, you laugh, but there is a reason I put so much effort into avoiding confrontation, dearest, and despite how my troops make a joke of it, the reason is not that I am too lazy to put effort into dodging. I put a lot of effort into staying alive, and I find your careless dismissal of my efforts irritating. Engaging in battles to the death is frightfully bad for my overall health, I find.” Airwave continued to grumble mournfully into Overcast’s chestplate, totally ignorant of Slipstream motioning for her brother to stay silent as they stood right behind Airwave, both sets of optics bright with mischievous glee. Airwave’s helm thumped gently against Overcast’s torso. “I am a liar and a cheat and a scoundrel, the very last mech you want to bring home to roost. I am greedy and lazy and I cannot avoid enemy fire with any sort of grace or consistency, despite how often my continued life depends on it! And you know what? That’s all right, I have made my peace with my failings, but Lord Starscream is going to take one look at me and order me shot and I hope you write me a nice eulogy, perhaps including a nice poem or something of the sort. Of course, we’ll forgo to mention that needing such could all have been avoided, along with various and sundry other indignities which have been heaped upon my chassis, if a certain mech who-shall-remain-nameless had not wilfully aided and abetted a certain sneaky, underhanded femme in her efforts to hijack their poor, beleaguered mate, remove him from familiar environs in order to drag him through a warzone, risking life, limb and liberty whist taking shameless advantage of said all-too-trusting mate’s recharge-addled processor functions so as to fool, to trick, to shanghai the overwrought and distressed Seeker into agreeing to a completely coincidental and frightfully convenient personal meeting with the dastardly femme’s brother, who just so happens to be the Winglord, with the power of life and death over all the Nation, and now supposedly it’s just a business meeting, give a tidy little report on the status of the pipeline operations but oh no, it’s really just a transparent ploy to introduce me to her flock and that’s why you two absconded with my recumbent form during my nap, you glitches are bound and determined to get me killed if I don’t expire from the stress first, you great hulking lummox, I hope you’re pleased with yourself, locking me up and holding me down in order to keep in on one place to await my doom, I am doomed and it’s all your fault, why did you help her bring me here I was perfectly happy with waiting for a summons or something there’s no need to be taking all this initiative I could be napping right now, Overcast, you are denying me my right to nap, what sort of horrible abusive wingmate are you that you willingly and with full knowledge of your actions subject me to this torture, this waking nightmare, and just how long is she planning to take? Sweet Primus we’ve been stuck waiting in here forever, I really should like to get this over with forthwith so that I might take a nap. A long nap. With mood lighting.”
The silence rang in their audios for a long moment before Overcast blinked and tilted his head to the side, helplessly amused. “You done?”
“Well...” Airwave sighed languorously, rolling his head back to peer up at Overcast with a contemplative expression. “I would appreciate a last meal and perhaps some more snuggles and for there to be fireworks at my funeral.”
“... Alright I have to know, why fireworks?” Slipstream asked, snickering as she pressed up against Airwave’s backstrut to get a start on providing her newest mate with his requested snuggles.
“Fireworks are pretty.” Airwave muttered, leaning back into Slipstream for a moment before he squeaked in horrified dismay. “How long have you been here? When did you come in? Oh Primus, how much did you hear?”
“Enough to know that you are exactly the kind of mech my dear sister deserves.” Starscream smirked as Slipstream released Airwave with a growl in order to turn and glare at her brother, snapping out something about he should know about deserving. Overcast looked on in slightly sadistic good humour as Airwave did his best to convince the floor to open up and swallow him as the siblings continued to bicker behind him.
“If I agree to turn around, may we please make-believe that I am a mature, sober individual who is not in the least bit flighty and never acted like a scatter-processored ninny in the presence of my overlord? Please?” Airwave stared at Overcast’s torso for a moment longer, pretending to not hear the snickering that came from above him nor the giggles that came from his back. After the inaudible noises of mirth stopped the magenta Seeker nodded calmly. “I am taking your silence as tacit agreement, thank you.”
Starscream was smiling at his sister when Airwave turned around, and the base commander took that as a good indicator of his Winglord’s mood. Good sign or not though, Airwave was ready to take to his thrusters at the first indication of execution type thoughts. Overcast pushed Airwave forward a few steps, and really, no assistance was needed at this juncture, Airwave was more than capable of meeting his doom under his own power, thanks ever so. Slipstream gave him that look, the one that said I know what you are thinking right now you little twit, now calm down, but what did Slipstream know about it, she was an awesome force of unstoppable destruction, what did she know about the terrors that plagued the lives of those who were slightly less martially capable? Nothing, that is what she knew of it, so it would be much appreciated if they could all hurry up and just get this over with so that Airwave could find a nice quiet corner and have his mental breakdown in peace, that would be lovely thanks.
“Airwave, meet my younger brother Starscream, current Winglord of Vos. Starscream, meet my new trinemate Airwave, Commander-in-charge of Pipeline Base Two.” Slipstream waved a negligent hand back and forth between the two mechs, the barest nod to the tradition of presenting ones trinemate to ones flock. She levelled a flat look at her smirking brother. “Play nice, and don’t break him. I looked for too damn long to want to deal with any scrap from you.”
“Why sister mine, that hurts! I would never bring harm to a wingmate of yours!” Starscream did his utmost to appear innocent, and harmless, and sweet. Airwave did not think he was too out of line for taking a prudent step back away. Starscream chortled, dropping the act and waving Airwave closer. “No, no, my apologies. My sister and I see so little of each other in these troubled times that I perhaps tease too hard when we are reunited. Slipstream has waited a long time to find you, Airwave. Thank you for being right for my sister, and welcome. Be welcomed in my home and among my flock.”
“It was no hardship, Winglord.” Airwave insisted without hesitation. Primus, as utterly terrifying and awe-inspiring and overwhelming as all of this was, he could never regret what was between them. The magenta Seeker sometimes had to take a time-out in order to shake and laugh hysterically, because what the frag how was this his life? But Airwave would tear out the fuel lines of the first mech to look cross-opticked at his mates with his denta if that was what it took to keep them for his own. Lifting his chin, Airwave took a step forward and bowed low. “I thank you for accepting me among your own, and for trusting me with the spark of your kin. I will not betray your welcome.”
His wings down in deference, his palms up in entreaty, Airwave waited in elegant, poised silence.
Then Starscream took Airwave’s hands in his own, pulling the magenta Seeker upright once again, and shoved him back into Slipsteam and Overcast’s arms with a smirk that told them he knew the tension had been well and truly broken. “That’s enough of that. Let’s go see Twister, get your paperwork sorted out, and then we’re all going to drink until we’re so overcharged we’ve forgotten how awkward this whole thing was.”
“I like that plan.” Airwave said with the breezy calm of a mech giving a fare-thee-well nod to his sanity. “I like that plan a lot.”
With them all in agreement, Slipstream shoved at her brother, hissing dire threats for breaking her mate when he had promised to be gentle. Starscream scoffed, after all he had only broken him a little bit, and besides, Airwave had done most of it to himself. Overcast just chuckled, used to their antics, and steered a punch-drunk Airwave out after the bickering siblings, never having expected things to go any differently. As for Airwave, he was just looking forward to drinking until he passed out and planned on not waking up until he was back on his nice, safe, Winglord free base... even if he did have to pass through an active warzone to get there.
(Word Count: 2217)
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So silver_rayan said that she would "love to see anything for the Nine Rings of Vos that centers around ... Airwave" and since I haven't written anything for the little jitterbug in forever and nobody else even seems to remember the poor, maligned little thing, that's what I wrote. Yep. ^_^
Here there be dragons! Nothing new here, but my Pygmy eggs are hatching. ^_^
♥
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♣
♥
♠
♣
A Transformers G1 Fanfic
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Airwave is a calm, rational sort of mech. He is in no way likely to attempt to climb out the window in order to avoid meeting his wife's wingmate's brother.
Timeline: For more evidence of how much I enjoy emotinally torturing my characters, click here.
=/=
(In which Airwave meets Starscream.)
“Calm down.” Overcast murmured gently, one huge hand pressed down on magenta plating to still the nervous thrum of shaking wings.
“I am calm. Why would you say that? I am calm. I am the calmest. How dare you suggest otherwise.” Airwave muttered back, half to himself as he twitched away from where his mate loomed in hulking amusement, anticipating the swiftly approaching moment of total doom. Calm down, hah! Easy for Overcast to say, what with him being all huge and strong and controlling the weather and devastatingly attractive and skilful with those great big hands of his, mmm...
Aaaaand off topic again, that happened far too frequently these days, stupid mate, being so delectable and distracting. Airwave pouted, glaring out-of-focus at the wall before he shook his head. Focus, right, this is panic time, not perving-on-mate time.
Besides, Overcast’s younger brother was Lord Starscream’s Air Commander! There was never anything for Overcast to worry about, he was nobility in his own right! Airwave was just a particularly clever smuggler with a talent for petty larceny and some skills in signal jamming. Lord Starscream was going to take one look at him and defenestrate Airwave’s lazy aft right out of the High Tower!
“Oh Primus, I’m going to diiiieeee...” Airwave moaned, whirling around in order to fling himself straight into Overcast’s arms. The larger Seeker caught his melodramatic wingmate easily, having been expecting the turnaround. Airwave whined pitifully, the glow of his optics soft and scattered as he wrapped his arms around his mate’s torso, gazing up with a mournful expression. “Pleeease just let me go back to the base, we can do this some other time, okay? Okay, just unlock the door and we can go, and leave a message saying so sorry, had to fly, we’ll catch up later. I’m sure Lord Starscream has more important things to do, so he’ll probably be glad to skip this whole foolishness. This is a foolish thing. After all, he only has what? A few cycles, maybe? A few cycles until the Decepticon’s start to wonder where their Air Commander has wandered off to. So I’m trying to be thoughtful here, letting him have more time to focus on important Winglord type things instead of bothering him with this silliness.”
“... The whole point of today was for you to meet Slipstream’s brother.” Overcast reminded his drooping mate once the flow of words came to a temporary halt. The blue Seeker grinned helplessly as Airwave’s hopeful pity-me expression melted into a face of utter betrayal how can you do this to me I thought you loved me and oh Primus you have a brother too, I just remembered I am going to have to go through this horrible torture a second time. Overcast shook his head in bemusement. “Suck it up, wingmate, you’re meeting Slipstream’s flock today whether you like it or not.”
“Cruel. You are cruel and mean and horrible!” Airwave slumped, draping all of his weight into Overcast’s hold. “You’ll be sorry, you’ll see, oh yes. I will die. I will be dead and then you’ll say, oh woe, sorrow and agony abounds, if only I had not mocked poor, dear Airwave’s completely justified misgivings! Forgive me, my beloved sparkmate, your unjust end came too soon! There will be weeping and wailing and then you and Slipstream will have to throw yourselves on to my funeral pyre in a wretched fit of inconsolable guilt in order to beg my lingering spirit for forgiveness in order to atone for the parts you played in my lamentable demise.”
“Will we now.” Overcast shifted so that Airwave rested more comfortably against him, looking up from the downturned white helm when the previously locked-to-prevent-Airwave’s-timely-escape door slid open to allow entrance to a pair of familiar figures. Looking down again, Overcast distracted his woeful mate like a champ. “You’re sure about all of that then?”
“You know, you laugh, but there is a reason I put so much effort into avoiding confrontation, dearest, and despite how my troops make a joke of it, the reason is not that I am too lazy to put effort into dodging. I put a lot of effort into staying alive, and I find your careless dismissal of my efforts irritating. Engaging in battles to the death is frightfully bad for my overall health, I find.” Airwave continued to grumble mournfully into Overcast’s chestplate, totally ignorant of Slipstream motioning for her brother to stay silent as they stood right behind Airwave, both sets of optics bright with mischievous glee. Airwave’s helm thumped gently against Overcast’s torso. “I am a liar and a cheat and a scoundrel, the very last mech you want to bring home to roost. I am greedy and lazy and I cannot avoid enemy fire with any sort of grace or consistency, despite how often my continued life depends on it! And you know what? That’s all right, I have made my peace with my failings, but Lord Starscream is going to take one look at me and order me shot and I hope you write me a nice eulogy, perhaps including a nice poem or something of the sort. Of course, we’ll forgo to mention that needing such could all have been avoided, along with various and sundry other indignities which have been heaped upon my chassis, if a certain mech who-shall-remain-nameless had not wilfully aided and abetted a certain sneaky, underhanded femme in her efforts to hijack their poor, beleaguered mate, remove him from familiar environs in order to drag him through a warzone, risking life, limb and liberty whist taking shameless advantage of said all-too-trusting mate’s recharge-addled processor functions so as to fool, to trick, to shanghai the overwrought and distressed Seeker into agreeing to a completely coincidental and frightfully convenient personal meeting with the dastardly femme’s brother, who just so happens to be the Winglord, with the power of life and death over all the Nation, and now supposedly it’s just a business meeting, give a tidy little report on the status of the pipeline operations but oh no, it’s really just a transparent ploy to introduce me to her flock and that’s why you two absconded with my recumbent form during my nap, you glitches are bound and determined to get me killed if I don’t expire from the stress first, you great hulking lummox, I hope you’re pleased with yourself, locking me up and holding me down in order to keep in on one place to await my doom, I am doomed and it’s all your fault, why did you help her bring me here I was perfectly happy with waiting for a summons or something there’s no need to be taking all this initiative I could be napping right now, Overcast, you are denying me my right to nap, what sort of horrible abusive wingmate are you that you willingly and with full knowledge of your actions subject me to this torture, this waking nightmare, and just how long is she planning to take? Sweet Primus we’ve been stuck waiting in here forever, I really should like to get this over with forthwith so that I might take a nap. A long nap. With mood lighting.”
The silence rang in their audios for a long moment before Overcast blinked and tilted his head to the side, helplessly amused. “You done?”
“Well...” Airwave sighed languorously, rolling his head back to peer up at Overcast with a contemplative expression. “I would appreciate a last meal and perhaps some more snuggles and for there to be fireworks at my funeral.”
“... Alright I have to know, why fireworks?” Slipstream asked, snickering as she pressed up against Airwave’s backstrut to get a start on providing her newest mate with his requested snuggles.
“Fireworks are pretty.” Airwave muttered, leaning back into Slipstream for a moment before he squeaked in horrified dismay. “How long have you been here? When did you come in? Oh Primus, how much did you hear?”
“Enough to know that you are exactly the kind of mech my dear sister deserves.” Starscream smirked as Slipstream released Airwave with a growl in order to turn and glare at her brother, snapping out something about he should know about deserving. Overcast looked on in slightly sadistic good humour as Airwave did his best to convince the floor to open up and swallow him as the siblings continued to bicker behind him.
“If I agree to turn around, may we please make-believe that I am a mature, sober individual who is not in the least bit flighty and never acted like a scatter-processored ninny in the presence of my overlord? Please?” Airwave stared at Overcast’s torso for a moment longer, pretending to not hear the snickering that came from above him nor the giggles that came from his back. After the inaudible noises of mirth stopped the magenta Seeker nodded calmly. “I am taking your silence as tacit agreement, thank you.”
Starscream was smiling at his sister when Airwave turned around, and the base commander took that as a good indicator of his Winglord’s mood. Good sign or not though, Airwave was ready to take to his thrusters at the first indication of execution type thoughts. Overcast pushed Airwave forward a few steps, and really, no assistance was needed at this juncture, Airwave was more than capable of meeting his doom under his own power, thanks ever so. Slipstream gave him that look, the one that said I know what you are thinking right now you little twit, now calm down, but what did Slipstream know about it, she was an awesome force of unstoppable destruction, what did she know about the terrors that plagued the lives of those who were slightly less martially capable? Nothing, that is what she knew of it, so it would be much appreciated if they could all hurry up and just get this over with so that Airwave could find a nice quiet corner and have his mental breakdown in peace, that would be lovely thanks.
“Airwave, meet my younger brother Starscream, current Winglord of Vos. Starscream, meet my new trinemate Airwave, Commander-in-charge of Pipeline Base Two.” Slipstream waved a negligent hand back and forth between the two mechs, the barest nod to the tradition of presenting ones trinemate to ones flock. She levelled a flat look at her smirking brother. “Play nice, and don’t break him. I looked for too damn long to want to deal with any scrap from you.”
“Why sister mine, that hurts! I would never bring harm to a wingmate of yours!” Starscream did his utmost to appear innocent, and harmless, and sweet. Airwave did not think he was too out of line for taking a prudent step back away. Starscream chortled, dropping the act and waving Airwave closer. “No, no, my apologies. My sister and I see so little of each other in these troubled times that I perhaps tease too hard when we are reunited. Slipstream has waited a long time to find you, Airwave. Thank you for being right for my sister, and welcome. Be welcomed in my home and among my flock.”
“It was no hardship, Winglord.” Airwave insisted without hesitation. Primus, as utterly terrifying and awe-inspiring and overwhelming as all of this was, he could never regret what was between them. The magenta Seeker sometimes had to take a time-out in order to shake and laugh hysterically, because what the frag how was this his life? But Airwave would tear out the fuel lines of the first mech to look cross-opticked at his mates with his denta if that was what it took to keep them for his own. Lifting his chin, Airwave took a step forward and bowed low. “I thank you for accepting me among your own, and for trusting me with the spark of your kin. I will not betray your welcome.”
His wings down in deference, his palms up in entreaty, Airwave waited in elegant, poised silence.
Then Starscream took Airwave’s hands in his own, pulling the magenta Seeker upright once again, and shoved him back into Slipsteam and Overcast’s arms with a smirk that told them he knew the tension had been well and truly broken. “That’s enough of that. Let’s go see Twister, get your paperwork sorted out, and then we’re all going to drink until we’re so overcharged we’ve forgotten how awkward this whole thing was.”
“I like that plan.” Airwave said with the breezy calm of a mech giving a fare-thee-well nod to his sanity. “I like that plan a lot.”
With them all in agreement, Slipstream shoved at her brother, hissing dire threats for breaking her mate when he had promised to be gentle. Starscream scoffed, after all he had only broken him a little bit, and besides, Airwave had done most of it to himself. Overcast just chuckled, used to their antics, and steered a punch-drunk Airwave out after the bickering siblings, never having expected things to go any differently. As for Airwave, he was just looking forward to drinking until he passed out and planned on not waking up until he was back on his nice, safe, Winglord free base... even if he did have to pass through an active warzone to get there.
(Word Count: 2217)
=/=
So silver_rayan said that she would "love to see anything for the Nine Rings of Vos that centers around ... Airwave" and since I haven't written anything for the little jitterbug in forever and nobody else even seems to remember the poor, maligned little thing, that's what I wrote. Yep. ^_^
Here there be dragons! Nothing new here, but my Pygmy eggs are hatching. ^_^
♥
♠
♣
♥
♠
♣