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ff. net is being a tard
Jan. 30th, 2010 11:41 pmso you can have it here till it decides to work again
Wheeljack, Starscream, Megatron -- Be careful what you ask for
“I told you this would happen.” Starscream gurgled from where he floated near the door to the lab, staring at the large, jagged hole that used to be the wall of his lab.
“Nobody listens to me though. No ~ I was only the highest ranked student at the academy ever. Of course I wouldn’t know what I was talking about.”
Turning from where he was standing on the ground of the flooded room, Megatron tried to backhand his sarcastic SIC. This attempt was ineffective though, as the drag from the water slowed his hand down enough to allow Starscream to drift out of range.
“Well, if you’re so knowledgeable Starscream, why don’t you tell me just how the Autobot managed to blow a hole in the side of the Nemisis, especially considering he was using components that were supposed to be non-explosive, as well as escape the ship without a dent?”
“Maybe, my mighty leader, he’s developed some kind of resistance to explosions.” Starscream replied. “According to reports, he routinely does more damage to the ark than we have EVER managed to do.”
Thundercracker - Skywarp: Decepticon Love, a Sin of Omission
No one knew just how deep their relationship was; even Soundwave was unable to discern the truth. Most people just assumed that seekers flew in threes for convenience or perhaps tradition. Especially considering that it was the most common formation
Even when there were only two, this rarity wouldn’t last very long. The spark deep need to find a third would always bring the trine to completion. No ground mech ever knew, mainly because they were never told.
This is why they couldn’t blame Megatron; all he had seen was an air commander without a trine and a pair of seekers without a third. Luckily, being forced together like that had been the push they needed. Though, it did take a long time before their link had begun to reach for its third member.
Bee - Prime - Jazz -> an unorthodox meeting
“In here” a voice whispered from off to his right.
Stumbling slightly at the tight turn, Jazz spun and dove through the entrance just before the door slammed shut. Pressing himself up against the wall, he froze and listened as the Decepticons footsteps thundered past and disappeared down the alley.
“Wow” laughed the voice quietly, “That was really close; are you ok?”
Looking over, Jazz finally caught a glance at his saviour in the dim light and, at the same time, the size of the room he had taken refuge in. Both ‘bot and apartment were tiny, the ceiling wouldn’t even be high enough for Jazz to stand upright, the mech himself, bright yellow and looking at Jazz with an expression of worry, would have only come up to the underside of chest plates.
“Yeah, ahm fine.” Jazz answered, wincing slightly as he moved and the blast mark on his leg scraped against the floor. “Dunno what ah would’a done if ya hadn’t been here though, little buddy.”
Smiling, the little ‘bot moved to the other side of the room and began to rummage through a storage chest sitting on the floor. Several minutes later, he closed the box, walked back to Jazz’s side, and handed him a small first aid kit. From this close, Jazz finally caught sight of the Autobot symbol adorning his chest and laughed.
“Well, ahm glad ah got saved by one of ma own side.” He said, opening the kit and placing a patch on his own leg. “But those ‘cons will probably come back this way soon and ah really don’ wanna get caught.”
Handing back the kit, Jazz opened the door and, once he checked that the coast was clear turned threw a grin over his shoulder.
“Guess ah’ll see ya ‘round.”
---------------------------------------------------------
Several orns later, after successfully completing his mission and returning to base, Jazz was called to meeting in Optimus Primes office. Upon entering, Jazz found that both Prowl and Ratchet were already in attendance and standing behind the Primes shoulders.
“Ah, Jazz.” Prime rumbled once Jazz stopped in front of his desk. “Thankyou for coming; I thought it would be best if we were all present when I introduced the newest member of special ops.”
At the sound of the door opening, Jazz turned and was greeted by the sight of one, small, yellow minibot.
Both bots frozen in shock, Optimus picked up the pad in front of him and began the introductions.
“Jazz, this is Bumblebee.”
Vortex has a crush on someone
The first thing he registered was a soft buzzing in his audios. Activating his optics, Vortex sat up from where he was sprawled on the ground. The last thing he remembered was Bruticus being hit by some kind of energy weapon.
A sudden shifting of his perch, as well as a muffled moan, pulled him out of his musings. Looking down, Vortex spied a black and purple wing underneath his leg.
“Ughh, owww.” Skywarp mumbled, face muffled by the ground. “Vortex, do you think you could, y’know, get off? You’re squishing me.”
G1 Sunstreaker, G1 Scrapper and an art gallery
Staring at the ceiling from where he was currently lounging, Scrapper felt an odd sense of familiarity. Autobot brigs themselves were usually rather boring, square rooms and standard issue orange wall paint being the norm. This cell, however, had obviously been occupied by someone who wanted to fix that.
While the un-imaginative geometry and wall décor remained the same, the ENTIRE ceiling of the cell had been painted to resemble a seekers-optic view of the Cybertronian city of Iacon before the war. The painting itself had been so skilfully constructed that, if not for the almost invisible brush strokes, as well as the tiny signature in the bottom left-hand corner, Scrapper could have sworn that it was an image capture.
Increasing the zoom on his optics, Scrapper smiled as he realised that he could even see the tiny mechs making their way across the main highways. The artist must have been in here a very long time if they had included such fine detail. Readjusting himself on the berth so that he had a better view of a new section of the painting, he sent of a silent thankyou to the unknown artist, at least his stay in their brig wouldn’t be as boring as he had originally feared.
Skyfire, Prowl –understanding
“You made a mistake on this one.”
Jumping in surprise, and swiftly sitting up from his hunched position over the bench, Skyfire rotated in his chair and smiled cheerily at his guest.
“Oh, Prowl. I’ve never seen you down here. Sorry, did you say something?” he said, lifting his arm and ushering the SIC into the room.
Walking up to the much larger mech and holding out a pad, Prowl pointed to a section of the report. “I said, ‘You made a mistake on this one’”
“What do you know, I did.” Skyfire replied, taking the report and quickly correcting the mistake. “I’m surprised you managed to pick that up; most bots have this stuff go right over their processors.”
Finishing his corrections and handing the pad back to the black and white Datsun, Skyfire chuckled. “It’s actually quite annoying not having someone to help proof-read my calculations.”
Reading over the pad once more, Prowl nodded and headed back towards the exit. Palming the wall panel and opening the door, he turned around and regarded the still seated shuttle.
“If you ever need someone to look over your calculations for you” Prowl said as he stepped past the threshold, “you know where to find me.”
Mirage / Prowl / Temper Tantrum
Mirage regularly had trouble recharging, though that was normal, especially for someone in his profession. This current cycle, however, his insomnia was aided by the news of Jazz’s capture.
From what intelligence they had managed to gather, it had been an incredibly lucky coincidence for the decepticons. Hiding in the shadows provided by the rafters high in the ceiling, Jazz had apparently been hit by a stray shot caused by a drunken fight in the hallway bellow. Knocked unconscious and unable to fight back, Jazz had been grabbed and promptly tossed into a decepticon holding cell.
Deciding to go for a walk and burn off some of his excess energy, Mirage engaged his cloaking device and slipped silently into the hallway. Being the middle of the night cycle, lighting in the hallways, as well as in all non-essential rooms, had been dimmed to its lowest setting, in order to conserve energy. This was why, when he spotted light spilling from one of the rarely used tactical planning rooms, Mirage’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to investigate.
Padding silently up to the door, Mirage cautiously peered inside. At the far end of the room, staring intently at one of the holographic displays stood Prowl. Optics far too dim to be healthy, doorwings drooping so low they were almost flat against his back, Prowl continued to input data into the terminal.
Once he finished uploading the information, Prowl set the simulation in motion; watching the readouts intently. Mirage watched as the simulation neared its completion and suddenly stopped, flashing red, flinching when Prowl snarled angrily and, in a fit of rage hurled a datapad at the wall, shattering it on impact.
Stepping back from the door and briskly walking back in the direction he had come from, Mirage was suddenly very, very glad he was not the mechs who had captured their third in command.
Red Alert, Starscream, Megatron; He's mine! No touching!
Redalert dodged yet another wide shot from Megatrons fusion cannon; ducking behind a rocky outcrop and firing in the general direction on the decepticon forces.
It was rare to see Redalert on the battlefield; he was usually found helping direct the battle from the safety of the ark. This time, however, Red’ had a score to settle.
Watching intently as one of the twins finally managed to knock one obnoxious, red and white seeker out of the sky, Red’ sunk quickly into his alt mode and made a beeline for their position.
Looking up from where he had pinned the now screeching seeker, Sideswipe waved cheerily to the transforming security director.
“Hi Red’” He crowed, shifting his grip and subtly grinding the flailing jets face into the ground, effectively muffling his indignant squawk in the process. “We managed to get that special delivery you ordered.”
“Excellent, now would you kindly mind letting go of him.” Redalert replied, walking up to them and placing his pede squarely in the middle of Starscreams back. “Starscream and I have something important we need to ‘discuss’, though I don’t think he’ll be able to do much talking, or anything else for that matter, once we’re done.”
Megatron and Soundwave: Stuck
It was embarrassing, it was humiliating and it was downright undignified. Once again trying to shift back into his root mode and, once again, finding he was unable to, Soundwave conceded defeat and opened a comm. frequency to the Nemisis.
/Soundwave to Megatron. Assistance: Required. Status: Trapped./
Walking swiftly to the command centre, Megatron quickly read the message and opened his own end of the communication.
/Soundwave, what is your location?/
After several minutes of no reply, Megatron sent the message again only this time, in reply, he received a mumbled monotone, and dare he say it, slightly embarrassed sounding response.
/What? I did not receive the prior transmission properly; say again./
/Soundwaves location: Human garbage truck./
Swindle - 'be prepared for the murkiest scam'
Onslaught glared suspiciously at his team mate from beneath his visor.
“You’re going to sell them what?” he said evenly, crossing his arms over the broad expanse of his chest.
Grinning evilly, Swindle merely chuckled. “Come on, it’ll be fantastic” he replied. “and all it will take is a little preparation on our part.”
-------------------------------------------
When I woke up this morning I had 20 PROMPTS.
Good work guys :D
Sadly, I also had to go to work today. Getting screamed at by random customers because the store changed the trolleys so that you have to stick money in them to get them out kind’of wore me out.
It is currently midnight down here in Aussie land and I only managed to finish 10 of them; Sorry :(
You’ll get the rest tomorrow.
I also apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes in this; I’m wicked tired and can’t find any more myself. If you get confused by something I wrote because I screwed something up too heinously, you can always ask me what I meant.
Much love,
Laura
uploaded on ff.net here -> http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5691058/6/
Wheeljack, Starscream, Megatron -- Be careful what you ask for
“I told you this would happen.” Starscream gurgled from where he floated near the door to the lab, staring at the large, jagged hole that used to be the wall of his lab.
“Nobody listens to me though. No ~ I was only the highest ranked student at the academy ever. Of course I wouldn’t know what I was talking about.”
Turning from where he was standing on the ground of the flooded room, Megatron tried to backhand his sarcastic SIC. This attempt was ineffective though, as the drag from the water slowed his hand down enough to allow Starscream to drift out of range.
“Well, if you’re so knowledgeable Starscream, why don’t you tell me just how the Autobot managed to blow a hole in the side of the Nemisis, especially considering he was using components that were supposed to be non-explosive, as well as escape the ship without a dent?”
“Maybe, my mighty leader, he’s developed some kind of resistance to explosions.” Starscream replied. “According to reports, he routinely does more damage to the ark than we have EVER managed to do.”
Thundercracker - Skywarp: Decepticon Love, a Sin of Omission
No one knew just how deep their relationship was; even Soundwave was unable to discern the truth. Most people just assumed that seekers flew in threes for convenience or perhaps tradition. Especially considering that it was the most common formation
Even when there were only two, this rarity wouldn’t last very long. The spark deep need to find a third would always bring the trine to completion. No ground mech ever knew, mainly because they were never told.
This is why they couldn’t blame Megatron; all he had seen was an air commander without a trine and a pair of seekers without a third. Luckily, being forced together like that had been the push they needed. Though, it did take a long time before their link had begun to reach for its third member.
Bee - Prime - Jazz -> an unorthodox meeting
“In here” a voice whispered from off to his right.
Stumbling slightly at the tight turn, Jazz spun and dove through the entrance just before the door slammed shut. Pressing himself up against the wall, he froze and listened as the Decepticons footsteps thundered past and disappeared down the alley.
“Wow” laughed the voice quietly, “That was really close; are you ok?”
Looking over, Jazz finally caught a glance at his saviour in the dim light and, at the same time, the size of the room he had taken refuge in. Both ‘bot and apartment were tiny, the ceiling wouldn’t even be high enough for Jazz to stand upright, the mech himself, bright yellow and looking at Jazz with an expression of worry, would have only come up to the underside of chest plates.
“Yeah, ahm fine.” Jazz answered, wincing slightly as he moved and the blast mark on his leg scraped against the floor. “Dunno what ah would’a done if ya hadn’t been here though, little buddy.”
Smiling, the little ‘bot moved to the other side of the room and began to rummage through a storage chest sitting on the floor. Several minutes later, he closed the box, walked back to Jazz’s side, and handed him a small first aid kit. From this close, Jazz finally caught sight of the Autobot symbol adorning his chest and laughed.
“Well, ahm glad ah got saved by one of ma own side.” He said, opening the kit and placing a patch on his own leg. “But those ‘cons will probably come back this way soon and ah really don’ wanna get caught.”
Handing back the kit, Jazz opened the door and, once he checked that the coast was clear turned threw a grin over his shoulder.
“Guess ah’ll see ya ‘round.”
---------------------------------------------------------
Several orns later, after successfully completing his mission and returning to base, Jazz was called to meeting in Optimus Primes office. Upon entering, Jazz found that both Prowl and Ratchet were already in attendance and standing behind the Primes shoulders.
“Ah, Jazz.” Prime rumbled once Jazz stopped in front of his desk. “Thankyou for coming; I thought it would be best if we were all present when I introduced the newest member of special ops.”
At the sound of the door opening, Jazz turned and was greeted by the sight of one, small, yellow minibot.
Both bots frozen in shock, Optimus picked up the pad in front of him and began the introductions.
“Jazz, this is Bumblebee.”
Vortex has a crush on someone
The first thing he registered was a soft buzzing in his audios. Activating his optics, Vortex sat up from where he was sprawled on the ground. The last thing he remembered was Bruticus being hit by some kind of energy weapon.
A sudden shifting of his perch, as well as a muffled moan, pulled him out of his musings. Looking down, Vortex spied a black and purple wing underneath his leg.
“Ughh, owww.” Skywarp mumbled, face muffled by the ground. “Vortex, do you think you could, y’know, get off? You’re squishing me.”
G1 Sunstreaker, G1 Scrapper and an art gallery
Staring at the ceiling from where he was currently lounging, Scrapper felt an odd sense of familiarity. Autobot brigs themselves were usually rather boring, square rooms and standard issue orange wall paint being the norm. This cell, however, had obviously been occupied by someone who wanted to fix that.
While the un-imaginative geometry and wall décor remained the same, the ENTIRE ceiling of the cell had been painted to resemble a seekers-optic view of the Cybertronian city of Iacon before the war. The painting itself had been so skilfully constructed that, if not for the almost invisible brush strokes, as well as the tiny signature in the bottom left-hand corner, Scrapper could have sworn that it was an image capture.
Increasing the zoom on his optics, Scrapper smiled as he realised that he could even see the tiny mechs making their way across the main highways. The artist must have been in here a very long time if they had included such fine detail. Readjusting himself on the berth so that he had a better view of a new section of the painting, he sent of a silent thankyou to the unknown artist, at least his stay in their brig wouldn’t be as boring as he had originally feared.
Skyfire, Prowl –understanding
“You made a mistake on this one.”
Jumping in surprise, and swiftly sitting up from his hunched position over the bench, Skyfire rotated in his chair and smiled cheerily at his guest.
“Oh, Prowl. I’ve never seen you down here. Sorry, did you say something?” he said, lifting his arm and ushering the SIC into the room.
Walking up to the much larger mech and holding out a pad, Prowl pointed to a section of the report. “I said, ‘You made a mistake on this one’”
“What do you know, I did.” Skyfire replied, taking the report and quickly correcting the mistake. “I’m surprised you managed to pick that up; most bots have this stuff go right over their processors.”
Finishing his corrections and handing the pad back to the black and white Datsun, Skyfire chuckled. “It’s actually quite annoying not having someone to help proof-read my calculations.”
Reading over the pad once more, Prowl nodded and headed back towards the exit. Palming the wall panel and opening the door, he turned around and regarded the still seated shuttle.
“If you ever need someone to look over your calculations for you” Prowl said as he stepped past the threshold, “you know where to find me.”
Mirage / Prowl / Temper Tantrum
Mirage regularly had trouble recharging, though that was normal, especially for someone in his profession. This current cycle, however, his insomnia was aided by the news of Jazz’s capture.
From what intelligence they had managed to gather, it had been an incredibly lucky coincidence for the decepticons. Hiding in the shadows provided by the rafters high in the ceiling, Jazz had apparently been hit by a stray shot caused by a drunken fight in the hallway bellow. Knocked unconscious and unable to fight back, Jazz had been grabbed and promptly tossed into a decepticon holding cell.
Deciding to go for a walk and burn off some of his excess energy, Mirage engaged his cloaking device and slipped silently into the hallway. Being the middle of the night cycle, lighting in the hallways, as well as in all non-essential rooms, had been dimmed to its lowest setting, in order to conserve energy. This was why, when he spotted light spilling from one of the rarely used tactical planning rooms, Mirage’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to investigate.
Padding silently up to the door, Mirage cautiously peered inside. At the far end of the room, staring intently at one of the holographic displays stood Prowl. Optics far too dim to be healthy, doorwings drooping so low they were almost flat against his back, Prowl continued to input data into the terminal.
Once he finished uploading the information, Prowl set the simulation in motion; watching the readouts intently. Mirage watched as the simulation neared its completion and suddenly stopped, flashing red, flinching when Prowl snarled angrily and, in a fit of rage hurled a datapad at the wall, shattering it on impact.
Stepping back from the door and briskly walking back in the direction he had come from, Mirage was suddenly very, very glad he was not the mechs who had captured their third in command.
Red Alert, Starscream, Megatron; He's mine! No touching!
Redalert dodged yet another wide shot from Megatrons fusion cannon; ducking behind a rocky outcrop and firing in the general direction on the decepticon forces.
It was rare to see Redalert on the battlefield; he was usually found helping direct the battle from the safety of the ark. This time, however, Red’ had a score to settle.
Watching intently as one of the twins finally managed to knock one obnoxious, red and white seeker out of the sky, Red’ sunk quickly into his alt mode and made a beeline for their position.
Looking up from where he had pinned the now screeching seeker, Sideswipe waved cheerily to the transforming security director.
“Hi Red’” He crowed, shifting his grip and subtly grinding the flailing jets face into the ground, effectively muffling his indignant squawk in the process. “We managed to get that special delivery you ordered.”
“Excellent, now would you kindly mind letting go of him.” Redalert replied, walking up to them and placing his pede squarely in the middle of Starscreams back. “Starscream and I have something important we need to ‘discuss’, though I don’t think he’ll be able to do much talking, or anything else for that matter, once we’re done.”
Megatron and Soundwave: Stuck
It was embarrassing, it was humiliating and it was downright undignified. Once again trying to shift back into his root mode and, once again, finding he was unable to, Soundwave conceded defeat and opened a comm. frequency to the Nemisis.
/Soundwave to Megatron. Assistance: Required. Status: Trapped./
Walking swiftly to the command centre, Megatron quickly read the message and opened his own end of the communication.
/Soundwave, what is your location?/
After several minutes of no reply, Megatron sent the message again only this time, in reply, he received a mumbled monotone, and dare he say it, slightly embarrassed sounding response.
/What? I did not receive the prior transmission properly; say again./
/Soundwaves location: Human garbage truck./
Swindle - 'be prepared for the murkiest scam'
Onslaught glared suspiciously at his team mate from beneath his visor.
“You’re going to sell them what?” he said evenly, crossing his arms over the broad expanse of his chest.
Grinning evilly, Swindle merely chuckled. “Come on, it’ll be fantastic” he replied. “and all it will take is a little preparation on our part.”
-------------------------------------------
When I woke up this morning I had 20 PROMPTS.
Good work guys :D
Sadly, I also had to go to work today. Getting screamed at by random customers because the store changed the trolleys so that you have to stick money in them to get them out kind’of wore me out.
It is currently midnight down here in Aussie land and I only managed to finish 10 of them; Sorry :(
You’ll get the rest tomorrow.
I also apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes in this; I’m wicked tired and can’t find any more myself. If you get confused by something I wrote because I screwed something up too heinously, you can always ask me what I meant.
Much love,
Laura
uploaded on ff.net here -> http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5691058/6/
