Prompt 2
Title: Kitty-Chan
Continuity: Bayverse
Character: Bonecrusher
Rating: G
Warnings: CRACK
Wordcount: 422
Time: 19 min
The shiftcycle had been terrible. Not that Bonecrusher had expected any less, of course. More or less a constant vortex of suck for as far back as he could remember. Which was a pretty slaggin’ long way. Only surprise to him was that the universe hadn’t imploded under the weight of its own suck.
He rolled back to his recharge almost listlessly. Nothing exciting there except being away from all of these morons. To the quiet of his cube, fantastic. Boredom over irritation. When that starts looking like an improvement, Bonecrusher, your life cannot get any lower.
He blurped the code at his recharge as he approached, letting momentum roll him in. Something seemed…wrong with his cube. Different. Bonecrusher hated different. And he hated, instantly, the large box, frothing with ribbons and bows and a paper wrapping so bright and busy his optics flicked through three filters before he could stand to look at it. What. The. Fraggin’. Frag.
Bonecrusher approached cautiously. Some sort of fraggin’ joke. Some sicko invading the privacy of his cube! He felt outrage begin simmering in his systems. How dare they? And what sort of monstrosity could be in that thing?
He prodded gingerly at the ribbons, waiting for the box to, he didn’t know, explode or something. Nothing.
He picked up the box, shaking it gently, his olfactory sensors tuning for any sort of combustible. Nothing.
Huh.
His battered claws ripped through the paper-which at least ended that particular optic-trauma-until he had uncovered, nestled in a wreck of gaudy ribbons, a large, bright box. Moe-moe super-cute kawaii Kitty-Chan-chan! the label read, and through the clear plastic window, he could see the enormous staring eyes of the pink fabric cat-doll. A tiny, undersized u formed a smile between the large white eyes. ‘Will you be my friend?’ another part of the packaging read.
Be. My. Friend. Are you fraggin’ serious?
[***]
A loud roar-possibly the loudest Bonecrusher had ever uttered, loud enough to blank the systems of a repairbot trotting its way along a ceiling track, causing it to lose its grip and fall, splatting on the ground before rolling into its storage ball and quaking with fear.
A laugh echoed up from the corridor. Bonecrusher railed.
“I HATE SURPRISES!! I’M GONNA FIND YOU AND SHOVE YOUR FACE IN A BLACK HOLE!” The threat echoed down the corridor, accompanied by flying shards of cardboard box, shreds of ribbon, scraplets of paper.
But the little pink doll was stuffed-carefully-in Bonecrusher’s personal storage compartment.
Continuity: Bayverse
Character: Bonecrusher
Rating: G
Warnings: CRACK
Wordcount: 422
Time: 19 min
The shiftcycle had been terrible. Not that Bonecrusher had expected any less, of course. More or less a constant vortex of suck for as far back as he could remember. Which was a pretty slaggin’ long way. Only surprise to him was that the universe hadn’t imploded under the weight of its own suck.
He rolled back to his recharge almost listlessly. Nothing exciting there except being away from all of these morons. To the quiet of his cube, fantastic. Boredom over irritation. When that starts looking like an improvement, Bonecrusher, your life cannot get any lower.
He blurped the code at his recharge as he approached, letting momentum roll him in. Something seemed…wrong with his cube. Different. Bonecrusher hated different. And he hated, instantly, the large box, frothing with ribbons and bows and a paper wrapping so bright and busy his optics flicked through three filters before he could stand to look at it. What. The. Fraggin’. Frag.
Bonecrusher approached cautiously. Some sort of fraggin’ joke. Some sicko invading the privacy of his cube! He felt outrage begin simmering in his systems. How dare they? And what sort of monstrosity could be in that thing?
He prodded gingerly at the ribbons, waiting for the box to, he didn’t know, explode or something. Nothing.
He picked up the box, shaking it gently, his olfactory sensors tuning for any sort of combustible. Nothing.
Huh.
His battered claws ripped through the paper-which at least ended that particular optic-trauma-until he had uncovered, nestled in a wreck of gaudy ribbons, a large, bright box. Moe-moe super-cute kawaii Kitty-Chan-chan! the label read, and through the clear plastic window, he could see the enormous staring eyes of the pink fabric cat-doll. A tiny, undersized u formed a smile between the large white eyes. ‘Will you be my friend?’ another part of the packaging read.
Be. My. Friend. Are you fraggin’ serious?
[***]
A loud roar-possibly the loudest Bonecrusher had ever uttered, loud enough to blank the systems of a repairbot trotting its way along a ceiling track, causing it to lose its grip and fall, splatting on the ground before rolling into its storage ball and quaking with fear.
A laugh echoed up from the corridor. Bonecrusher railed.
“I HATE SURPRISES!! I’M GONNA FIND YOU AND SHOVE YOUR FACE IN A BLACK HOLE!” The threat echoed down the corridor, accompanied by flying shards of cardboard box, shreds of ribbon, scraplets of paper.
But the little pink doll was stuffed-carefully-in Bonecrusher’s personal storage compartment.