There's a First Time For Everything
Ransack can be found huddled outside the Decepticon Medbay, half-hidden behind some crates, bins, and other things that are typically found outside industrial looking buildings. He doesn't know exactly where he is, but he doesn't particularly care either; he's in the urbanized section of Nexusville, he's mostly out of sight, and he feels safe enough to catch a few cycles of recharge.
He's startled from his slumber by a persistent pinging, which he's annoyed to find is yet another one of those silly prompts. This one doesn't seem to want to go away, so he lifts his head and rests it back against the wall.
I get da feelin' dere ain't many Velocitronians here, so I'm gonna start wit a lil backstory. Bear wit me fer a moment, will ya?
So da whole planet - pretty much nothin' but roads n' racetracks. Dere're buildin's along da roads o' course; hotels, arcades, casinos, bars, n' all da necessities. But even in dese places, dere's 'n obvious emphasis on racin' n' competition. Even in da bars, dere're all sorts o' drinkin' races set up ta see who cin drink da most in da least amount o' time.
Now, y'might be tinkin' dat wit all dis race-nonsense dat new Velocitronians hit da ground wit all four cylinders firin'. *pauses, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smirk* Yeah, no, don' tink we'd have lasted dis long if dat were da case. I mean, it's always 'n option, but most bots start slow. Y'start wit watchin' oddahs race, n' when ya tink yer ready, ya challenge yer friends. Ya challenge bots ya come across on da street. Ya challenge yer enemies. Den when ya tink ya're good at dat, ya sign up fer practice races at da tracks. After dat, well, dat's when tin's start gettin' serious.
I was fifteen when I had my first official race. Still just a kidbot, really, but I was doin' real good on da streets. I challenged oddah bikes ta long distance runs n' left dem in my dust. Bigger bots were a bit o' a problem, but if I could get behind dem, I could ride dere drafts until da last minute den jump ahead, sealin' da deal. In sprints I was kin'.
So, needless ta say, I was a bit cocky when I entered my first race. Scrap yards, I didn't even bothah' wit da practice races. Dose tin's were fer chumps, n' I weren't no chump. I was from da bottom o' da barrel, but I was goin' places. 'N I was goin' places fast, I'll tell ya what.
'N yanno what else? When I saw da race listin', I knew most o' dose bots. I'd raced against dem befere on da street. Big muscle type cars, da kind dat were all flashy parts n' loud engines. Dey were da kind who didn't tink twice 'bout smearin' oddahs into da pavement, n' ya could see it in dere headlights.
Dey didn't take well ta losin' ta a lil guy like me, n' da look on dere faces was priceless when I took da lead.
I shoulda known I was gonna be scrapped, racin' dat many bots I'd torqued off in da past, but man, I was giddier den scooter wit a new pair o' flashy handle bar ribbons. I wasn't racin' mechs dat had a reason ta see me fall, oh slag no. I was racin' mechs I'd already beaten befere. Dis was gonna be easy.
'N it was easy! Oh man, dose first couple laps! I was ridin' high, sittin' pretty at second place, driftin' on da tailwinds o' a big black bruiser wit chrome detailin'. I could see myself in da reflection o' his bumper. 'N I admit, dat was probably what sealed my fate, cuz I was so busy starin' at myself, tinkin' how slick dis race was goin', n' I wasn't payin' any attention ta what was goin' on around me. Neva got da chance neidda, cuz next tin' I knew, dere was a flash o' red, den I was crumplin' 'gainst his bumper.
Now, dere ain't nothin' wrong wit brakin' in da middle o' a race. I mean, frag, I shoulda been payin' attention! Dat weren't anyone's fault but mine, n' I neva spaced out like dat again. But my punishment was only just beginnin'.
I remember lyin' on da ground after da blow, cars blowin' past me. I transformed n' got ta my feet, got my bearin's, n' was back on two wheels in a flash. I wasn't gonna let one lil crash stop me, n' dare more den enough laps left ta regain my position.
'N as I started climbin' back up da ranks, I figured I had it in da bag. Bots were fallin' behind all around me as I pressed forward, slippin' t'rough da gaps between dem. 'N fer a while, I was sittin' pretty at number one! But den a gold-plated lowrider wit massive tail fins n' a sparklin' blue convertible started pullin' up beside me, crowdin' me. I gunned my engine, tryin' ta pull away from dem, but static filtered t'rough my system, makin' it hard ta focus. My display went monochrome n' as grainy as a sandstorm, n' I couldn't tell up from down.
It stopped as soon as I fell a car length behind da pair, but anoddah bot wit a big shovel-shaped grill was riding' my aft. I couldn't pull forward cuz I felt da static rush as soon as I moved up an inch, n' I wasn't willin' ta give up my position just ta feel comfortable Spent almost a whole lap like dat, boxed in wit da three mechs boxin' me in. It was short-circuitin', but I wasn't 'bout ta give in ta dose fraggers - I could win dis tin', no matter how much dey harassed me.
Well, one lap was all da patience da bot behind me could spare, cuz soon as we crossed da marker, BAM, dat shovel nose o' his was under my rear wheel n' I was flyin' up over his hood.
Musta been some kinda big bot what caught me, cuz I sure didn't land on da ground. I could feel his hands wrap around me like I was a toy. Relief flooded me - someone was willin' ta give me a lil help! Hyeah, right. No sooner did dat line o' code pass t'rough my processor den electric shocks sizzled t'rough my shell. I wanted ta scream, it hurt so bad, but my circuits were lockin' up. Then I was settled on my wheels again n' his hands were gone. More den dat, da pain was gone n' I was still online.
I thought dat if I just kept pushin' myself-
I caught a whiff o' ozone, den da black muscle car dat first ran into me rocketed past n' insane speeds. I nearly toppled over from da force o' da wind he whipped up. 'N it was just him. Every single racer was blowin' by at speeds dey should have never reached wit regulation parts. I don't know if dey were just burnin' Nitrous Oxide or if dey had some kind o' custom parts installed, but I knew dey were racin' dirty.
I didn't stand a chance.
*settles his chin on his arms and laughs quietly, looking aimlessly out over the Nexus* Anyway, dat was a couple years ago. I haven't let anyone get da better o' me like dat again, n' I've even got a few mods put in ta deal wit dat sorta tin'. Winnin''s important, yanno, n' not just fer da recognition n' accolades. It's how some o' us earn our keep. It's how we get credit ta pay fer maintenance, fuel, n' lodgin'. 'N if ya eva get on a losin' streak, scrap, ya betta have some kind o' a back-up plan, cuz ya ain't gonna last very long.
He's startled from his slumber by a persistent pinging, which he's annoyed to find is yet another one of those silly prompts. This one doesn't seem to want to go away, so he lifts his head and rests it back against the wall.
I get da feelin' dere ain't many Velocitronians here, so I'm gonna start wit a lil backstory. Bear wit me fer a moment, will ya?
So da whole planet - pretty much nothin' but roads n' racetracks. Dere're buildin's along da roads o' course; hotels, arcades, casinos, bars, n' all da necessities. But even in dese places, dere's 'n obvious emphasis on racin' n' competition. Even in da bars, dere're all sorts o' drinkin' races set up ta see who cin drink da most in da least amount o' time.
Now, y'might be tinkin' dat wit all dis race-nonsense dat new Velocitronians hit da ground wit all four cylinders firin'. *pauses, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smirk* Yeah, no, don' tink we'd have lasted dis long if dat were da case. I mean, it's always 'n option, but most bots start slow. Y'start wit watchin' oddahs race, n' when ya tink yer ready, ya challenge yer friends. Ya challenge bots ya come across on da street. Ya challenge yer enemies. Den when ya tink ya're good at dat, ya sign up fer practice races at da tracks. After dat, well, dat's when tin's start gettin' serious.
I was fifteen when I had my first official race. Still just a kidbot, really, but I was doin' real good on da streets. I challenged oddah bikes ta long distance runs n' left dem in my dust. Bigger bots were a bit o' a problem, but if I could get behind dem, I could ride dere drafts until da last minute den jump ahead, sealin' da deal. In sprints I was kin'.
So, needless ta say, I was a bit cocky when I entered my first race. Scrap yards, I didn't even bothah' wit da practice races. Dose tin's were fer chumps, n' I weren't no chump. I was from da bottom o' da barrel, but I was goin' places. 'N I was goin' places fast, I'll tell ya what.
'N yanno what else? When I saw da race listin', I knew most o' dose bots. I'd raced against dem befere on da street. Big muscle type cars, da kind dat were all flashy parts n' loud engines. Dey were da kind who didn't tink twice 'bout smearin' oddahs into da pavement, n' ya could see it in dere headlights.
Dey didn't take well ta losin' ta a lil guy like me, n' da look on dere faces was priceless when I took da lead.
I shoulda known I was gonna be scrapped, racin' dat many bots I'd torqued off in da past, but man, I was giddier den scooter wit a new pair o' flashy handle bar ribbons. I wasn't racin' mechs dat had a reason ta see me fall, oh slag no. I was racin' mechs I'd already beaten befere. Dis was gonna be easy.
'N it was easy! Oh man, dose first couple laps! I was ridin' high, sittin' pretty at second place, driftin' on da tailwinds o' a big black bruiser wit chrome detailin'. I could see myself in da reflection o' his bumper. 'N I admit, dat was probably what sealed my fate, cuz I was so busy starin' at myself, tinkin' how slick dis race was goin', n' I wasn't payin' any attention ta what was goin' on around me. Neva got da chance neidda, cuz next tin' I knew, dere was a flash o' red, den I was crumplin' 'gainst his bumper.
Now, dere ain't nothin' wrong wit brakin' in da middle o' a race. I mean, frag, I shoulda been payin' attention! Dat weren't anyone's fault but mine, n' I neva spaced out like dat again. But my punishment was only just beginnin'.
I remember lyin' on da ground after da blow, cars blowin' past me. I transformed n' got ta my feet, got my bearin's, n' was back on two wheels in a flash. I wasn't gonna let one lil crash stop me, n' dare more den enough laps left ta regain my position.
'N as I started climbin' back up da ranks, I figured I had it in da bag. Bots were fallin' behind all around me as I pressed forward, slippin' t'rough da gaps between dem. 'N fer a while, I was sittin' pretty at number one! But den a gold-plated lowrider wit massive tail fins n' a sparklin' blue convertible started pullin' up beside me, crowdin' me. I gunned my engine, tryin' ta pull away from dem, but static filtered t'rough my system, makin' it hard ta focus. My display went monochrome n' as grainy as a sandstorm, n' I couldn't tell up from down.
It stopped as soon as I fell a car length behind da pair, but anoddah bot wit a big shovel-shaped grill was riding' my aft. I couldn't pull forward cuz I felt da static rush as soon as I moved up an inch, n' I wasn't willin' ta give up my position just ta feel comfortable Spent almost a whole lap like dat, boxed in wit da three mechs boxin' me in. It was short-circuitin', but I wasn't 'bout ta give in ta dose fraggers - I could win dis tin', no matter how much dey harassed me.
Well, one lap was all da patience da bot behind me could spare, cuz soon as we crossed da marker, BAM, dat shovel nose o' his was under my rear wheel n' I was flyin' up over his hood.
Musta been some kinda big bot what caught me, cuz I sure didn't land on da ground. I could feel his hands wrap around me like I was a toy. Relief flooded me - someone was willin' ta give me a lil help! Hyeah, right. No sooner did dat line o' code pass t'rough my processor den electric shocks sizzled t'rough my shell. I wanted ta scream, it hurt so bad, but my circuits were lockin' up. Then I was settled on my wheels again n' his hands were gone. More den dat, da pain was gone n' I was still online.
I thought dat if I just kept pushin' myself-
I caught a whiff o' ozone, den da black muscle car dat first ran into me rocketed past n' insane speeds. I nearly toppled over from da force o' da wind he whipped up. 'N it was just him. Every single racer was blowin' by at speeds dey should have never reached wit regulation parts. I don't know if dey were just burnin' Nitrous Oxide or if dey had some kind o' custom parts installed, but I knew dey were racin' dirty.
I didn't stand a chance.
*settles his chin on his arms and laughs quietly, looking aimlessly out over the Nexus* Anyway, dat was a couple years ago. I haven't let anyone get da better o' me like dat again, n' I've even got a few mods put in ta deal wit dat sorta tin'. Winnin''s important, yanno, n' not just fer da recognition n' accolades. It's how some o' us earn our keep. It's how we get credit ta pay fer maintenance, fuel, n' lodgin'. 'N if ya eva get on a losin' streak, scrap, ya betta have some kind o' a back-up plan, cuz ya ain't gonna last very long.