playswithworms: (Default)
Hey, how's everyone doing out there? I'm hiding in the Protectobot cuddlepile, feel free to join me *patpats* Free hugs, Wheeljack's bringing cookies for both humans and robots, we've got some nature documentaries playing with David Attenborough narrating, Ratchet's warding off all dangers. Feel free to bring your favorite mechanism(s), Decepticons welcome! <3

Date: 2017-01-29 04:11 am (UTC)From: [personal profile] missmaryr
missmaryr: (Default)
Sounds like fun!

Date: 2017-01-30 02:42 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
It's very cozy! Should have brought more pillows though - robots are...very solid :D

Date: 2017-01-30 03:31 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
I HAVE MANY PILLOWS! And blankets! ::brings::
DAVID ATTENBOROUGH! ::crops watered, skin clear, years added to life::
::noms cookies::
::squiggles into the crook of Wheeljack's left knee::

Date: 2017-01-31 12:24 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Yay pillows and blankets, lovely!!! *dives into*
I know, right? I watched David Attenborough once and it cured my dandruff!
Mmm, coookiesss. I have three boxes of Girl Scout cookies. Please help me eat them before I eat all three boxes myself, I beg of you! XD We have S'mores (which was a new flavor this year, but they're basically blond Oreos, was a little disappointed), Tagalongs, and Samoas. No Thin Mints, but I know a girl that could hook you up.


Date: 2017-01-31 04:19 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Mmmmmmmm Samoas... Blond Oreos are...okay. u.u I like thin mints but I'm a devourer of shortbread... ;D

Date: 2017-02-04 12:59 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Mom left a box of thin mints on my doorstep today, so she wouldn't eat them XD

Date: 2017-01-30 03:32 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
“When is Bumblebee coming back, again?” Barricade removed a hatchling pedal component from his mouth for the third time in five minutes.

“Not till Tuesday,” Blades said. Five days more of fourteen second-instar hatchlings shut inside the Retribution because of snow almost up to the top deck, and, more to the point, sub-freezing temperatures. Play-doh kept them occupied for only so long. Optimus was in Beijing, giving speeches, or they’d lobby to have him in for storytimes.

Gasket, Leeway, Pingback and Starshine were trying to climb on each other to reach the door controls. Barricade wasn’t sure if he should just watch, since it didn’t look like they were going to succeed in getting it open – they didn’t know the lock sequence anyway, did they? – or if there should be a distraction sooner rather than later when they figured out that what they were trying now didn’t work and they moved on to trying other things. He went over and leaned on the wall next to them. Now he could catch Starshine if he fell. Gasket and Pingback were disagreeing about who should be the very bottom and kept trying to put their pedal components on each other. Leeway was on their shoulders, and sometimes helms or faces, with his arms around Starshine’s hip gimbals, and the whole construction teetered alarmingly.

“Up?” said Starshine, talons reaching but fanning out over the wall several important centispans below the lock panel. “Out?”

“No, you can’t go out,” Barricade said. “It’s cold, remember? Winter.”

“Cows?” Leeway asked hopefully, around Starshine’s aft.

“You’d have to go outside to see the cows,” Thundercracker said from the blocks table. “It’s too cold.” The adults could carry them with engines revved hot enough to keep them warm for the short trip to the barn, the hatchlings clinging tightly, but Thundercracker knew, even after only a few months as a caretaker, that it was too risky. Second instar hatchlings wouldn’t stay latched. They were too active and inquisitive and someone would make a break for it and go bounding off on their own and the drifts were deep. And to be honest, Thundercracker didn’t want to go out in the freezing wind without a truly compelling reason.

“Hey, beeps,” called Beachcomber from the napping area, with its plethora of tough but smooshable bean bag chairs and pillows. “If you come on over here we can learn a new song, hey?”

Starshine jumped, Barricade caught him, and helped Leeway get down, then all four galloped over to Beachcomber, along with Fulcrum, who abandoned blocks in favor of singing. Barricade grinned. Thank Primus for Beachcomber.

“Snowsuits,” Sarah said. “That’s what they need. I’ll ask Mom to help, and maybe she can get some of her Dorcas society friends to pitch in, too.” Telling the ladies about fourteen orphans who needed winter clothes wouldn’t be, strictly speaking, a lie. Sarah was already building a pattern in her head, though, and the proportions were going to be…odd. Fourteen chimpanzee babies? Not completely plausible. Optimus still didn’t want the hatchlings on the news, and Sarah didn’t blame him one bit.

Perceptor blinked. “Snowsuits! Of course! Brilliant!” Hoist was also nodding, and had that slightly abstracted air that meant he was planning something. Sarah lofted a brow at him. If Hoist could sew… She liked the idea of the Dorcas ladies helping, but it didn’t sit entirely right that they’d have to lie about whom the effort would be for. They needed the suits ASAP, so they couldn’t just wait until it was deemed safe to introduce the hatchlings to humanity at large.

“The material will need to be light, flexible and insulating,” Perceptor said, leaning close to Hoist. “Durable enough to withstand talons and heavy wear.” He straightened slightly, blinking. “I’m afraid I keep thinking in terms of armor, and that is not…”

“No,” Hoist agreed.

“Snowsuits,” Sarah said, waving a hand at the air – the internet. “Do an image search. With hoods! Oh…and little pom-poms!” She might have actually squeed. Out loud. In front of the robots. Will must never know. “And Velcro. We’re going to need lots of Velcro.”


Date: 2017-01-31 12:35 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Hee hee, Barricade's longing for Bumblebee to come save him from bored hatchlings, I love it!
Oh dear, niecelet is now tall enough to open doors - it's very alarming when they learn how to do that! Don't underestimate the lil' doobers, 'Cade. TC doesn't want to go digging for hatchies in snowdrifts - entirely understandable!
I love that Beachcomber calls them "beeps" - hee! <3

Hm, yes, Dorcas ladies what a delightful idea! But probably no good story you could tell them.
With pom poms! :DDDDDDDDD
Will must never know *sporfle*

*rolls around in delightitude*
Oh this is just the best thing ever :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Date: 2017-01-31 06:30 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
RIGHT???? Bad enough when the cats do it...


::BEAMS:: <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

different ficlet, this one's done...

Date: 2017-01-30 08:28 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Couch. Thundercracker stared at it. A borrowed concept, out of place on a Decepticon vessel, though the dissonance didn’t bother him as much as it would have not long ago. It looked comfortable when First Aid or the others used it, but none of them had proper wings. He might as well try it out, though, and if it wasn’t suitable he just wouldn’t use it.

Huh. The seat was firm, but the back conformed to his shape remarkably well while providing support. He angled his wings up and down, wriggling his shoulders. Not bad. The only drawback was that the tarsal joint in his legs butted into the seat base. Extending his pedes a bit solved the problem. He scooched his aft a little more forward, letting his wings and shoulders sink into the cushions. The armrest on his right was perhaps of a height for frametypes somewhat differently proportioned, but he grabbed a pillow – another alien idea – from the other end of the couch and stuffed it under his elbow. There. Very nice, actually. He tipped his helm back and found it cradled at the right height. He could get used to this.

Coddling. Encouraged weakness and laziness. Starscream wouldn’t approve. Well. He had a few years yet before he had to worry about that. He shuttered his optics.

When he unshuttered them, close to an hour of local time later, Bravespark, Cade Jr., Birdy Boo, Noggin, Escape Velocity, Starshine, Gasket and Trajectory were cuddled up around his neck and chest, chirring softly in recharge. He could hear Barricade and Hoist bathing another set of hatchlings in the wash tubs on the other side of a partition.

He petted the hatchlings gingerly, not used to their fragility quite yet. He should get up and…do…something. Help, he thought, and not get caught lounging around but now he was trapped. (A traitorous part of his processor reminded him that hatchlings would cling automatically if he stood. Nope, he was definitely trapped.) Besides, it was stormy and cold outside – he could hear the wind and sleet blasting the hull – and nice and warm and relatively quiet inside. He was about to shutter his optics again when he heard the front airlock cycle open. Slag.

Aaaaaaaand it was Prowl. Fantastic. Prime’s chief Strategist and sometime military police head; and all-around sparkless fragger. Supposedly. Thundercracker had seen him when he’d learned that Jazz had been killed, though. Not sparkless.

Prowl seemed to be intent on something and about to walk past Thundercracker without comment, but he halted in mid-stride, turning – mostly at the waist – to take in the scene. Prowl scanned him lightly, and Thundercracker watched his expression evolve…softening, optic color deepening to match his spark spectrum, focus going wide, mouthplates relaxing, field whirling slow and enthralled, door wings wafting forward very slightly.

Grounder models should not be that attractive. Thundercracker caught and held Prowl’s gaze, relaxed, unchallenging, accompanied by the chirring of sleeping hatchlings. He let the color of his optics deepen, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a microscopic grin.

Prowl tossed his head minutely in a silent laugh, orbital shutters crinkling, his return smile bright enough to run a large space station, and then continued on his way.

Oof! thought Thundercracker. Oh slag. No. Nope. Time for recharge. Maybe all winter. That would be best, yes.
EEEEEEEEEEEE And another one!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been reading these in my email notifications over and over all day, I'll have you know. Best Day Ever!

Oooh ho ho, so Thundercracker's caught lounging on the couch with the babies by none other than the fearsome Prowl! He was so totally trapped though *nodnod* No way he could get up or move or anything, yep.

chirring while they sleep, awwww <3

Thundercracker had seen him when he’d learned that Jazz had been killed, though. Not sparkless. That's a scene I don't even want to imagine except that I kind of do. Prowwlll I'm sorryyyy ;_;

his return smile bright enough to run a large space station
Hee hee hee! Doomed, TC. Yer doomed. Just snuggle back into the couch and accept your fate *cackles*



I was going to ask about how/when Prowl arrived, because you do mention Optimus sending out further transmissions, but not what they said exactly. I kind of didn't think he would just broadcast a list of deaths, although as Prowl came in, if he made contact then Optimus would brief him presumably, and then TC wouldn't have seen it. So in order to explain my little conceit which starts a TC/Prowl ball rolling, is that Prowl came in sub rosa. He wanted to suss out the situation on Earth before contacting Prime. Not so much out of wariness towards Optimus, but in a general sort of caution. Having been separated from Team Prime for who knows how many thousand years. Or only a few hundred maybe, but in any case, Prowl likes to see for himself, and then come add his observations to the pot if they're useful. u.u

So there they all were, some time during/before Astrogenesis? And Prowl would have wanted that news in private, but there wasn't - for whatever reason - time, or it got brought up and someone else was about to spill the beans in a less than tactful way and Optimus stepped in and explained quietly. And Prowl cornered the market on controlling his reactions, but TC was in line of sight as Prowl turns to take a moment or something...

::rubs hands together::

Muwahahahaha! And from then on they keep looking at each other when they reckon no one is looking at them, but the little optic-flick eyecatch in shared reaction to hatchling hilarity and worry over Galvatron's batch will they be themselves or not and how will we handle it either way doesn't go unnoticed by everyone. Optimus is sekretly delighted of course, as is First Aid. Barricade, in a ficlet to come, doesn't pick up on it until things are well progressed... XD

Hm, as for the timing...I did have a vague thing of TC "capturing" First Aid shortly after the Protectobots arrived on Earth, and Aid knows, in Optimus's current state, that TC wouldn't be safe if Optimus knew where he was, so the P-bots have TC stashed somewhere while Aid repairs him in his free time, and then the whole traumatic "P-bots confront Optimus" thing happens and sometime later once Optimus is himself again and Megatron's gone all Galvatron, the P-bots bring TC out of hiding (or maybe he gets worried about the P-bots and goes to nobly sacrifice himself to save them and is pleasantly surprised to meet sane!Optimus and sane!Galvatron-formerly-known-as-Megatron instead of certain doom, but maybe that would be a stretch for his character?).

And I kind of thought of Prowl as either...showing up right after this, or he's been there sooner but staying in orbit/undercover on Earth until he figures out what-the-what is going on - but if he was on Earth he'd probably have figured out about Jazz on his own pretty quickly. Hmmm. Or maybe he meets up secretly with the P-bots too, and while TC's hiding behind Hot Spot pretending like he's not there, the P-bots break the news about Jazz? I dunno, I like the idea of the news coming from Optimus though. Hmmm.

And then TC would have left with Galvatron to go rebuild Cybertron shortly after Astrogenesis, but somehow Prowl's face keeps popping up in his memory feed all the time...

(As always, the space-time stream is infinitely malleable! Feel free to totally ignore all this nattering ^_~)

Clueless Barricade, hee!

Oh that's right! "Did you 'capture' him too?" XDDDDDD
Pbots stashing TC YES GOOD
Hmm. IDW TC would need to be dragged out to meet the new sane!duo. We don't get a lot of canonical Bayverse!TC, other than the one comic where he and Flatline have Arcee and the Other Twins. IDK. I do think it's cute, though, having TC, after a long silence, decide he might need to go check up on the Pbots, given he had his own span of time to, like Barricade, be 'corrupted' by them.
How much time...? We're two years out from Chicago in the Prequel. Pbots landed shortly after? Sneaking about fixing Seekers in hiding, as well as Other Things...
I kind of had a thought that maybe TC and Prowl had sort of reflexively stalked each other through the Sol system as they came in, or one was chasing the other from much farther out, after getting the transmission to come to Earth b/c of Stuff.
Ah, yes, you're right, if Prowl's on Earth for any length of time he'll have tapped the nets and found out about Jazz. Hmm.
Or the Pbots break the news...oh gosh poor them!!! O.O That makes more sense, though, really, than wrangling events all over the place just so Optimus can be the bearer. Also, look! Pbot angst! \o/

And then TC would have left with Galvatron to go rebuild Cybertron shortly after Astrogenesis, but somehow Prowl's face keeps popping up in his memory feed all the time...

So another prompt for winter that I've picked is "Feast" - Hoist at his culinary best! And at one point Barricade sees the very end of a quick exchange where TC feeds a little energon goodie to Prowl, who is just passing through again... It's the most public and obvious show of affection anyone's yet *seen* (the pair have simply been v circumspect - much like most parents with children in the house) and the Pbots are hard pressed to not glee all over everything. u.u <3 (And Barricade kind of misses having someone feed him/is jealous. I have two slightly conflicting ideas: that he got his arms blown up one time and a battle buddy volunteered to help him or brought him a rare and coveted goodie as a get well present. OR Barricade had a Particular Friend who was kind of silly and weird and used to like to feed him.) ( that's a kink isn't it. XD That is not the direction I was aiming.) Anyway, as Cade is thinking of...whichever thing he is thinking, Ultra Magnus climbs up and offers a goodie to him and everyone goes DAWWWWWWWWW!!! <3 <3 <3
D'awwww, see, 'Cade, the hatchies will feed you goodies! And I bet First Aid and all the P-bots would too, if they had the slightest idea you'd let them ^_~
Prowl finding the place they've stashed TC and ninja'ing in - one hairy moment with Prowl's fully charged gun to TC's jaw! Check! Rapid and chaotic alteration of parameters! Check! Prowl is emotionally gut-shot! Check! Pbot snugglings! Check!
All of which STILL doesn't stop Prowl from linking into the net in orbit. Dang it.

So Prowl shows up while the Pbots are still hiding TC. ::taps fingers::
Maybe TC and Prowl did have a run-in earlier, maybe not even in the Sol system. They damaged each other's ships p badly - Prowl's comms have been, he'd still need that to get Optimus' transmission... AUGH.
Or, Prowl got the first transmission, right after Mission City, and has been en route, during which he and TC tangle. Also, given this is still angry!Optimus time, once he lands and Optimus, damaged, perhaps in stasis at that exact moment, is not responding...

This is not very parsimonious. Sigh.

Also, by itself still doesn't solve the problem without a little further info! So! Ok, Prowl is NOT going to hook into some alien planet's net without first being assured it's reasonably safe to do so. Because of that one time Jazz jumped in and almost got eaten/absorbed and only was saved at the last minute by Ratchet and Ironhide. Since Optimus isn't answering hails, Prowl lands anyway and ninjas around, picks up TC's location? The Pbots? ...........
Well, now there's the sticky bit. Hmm.
Edited Date: 2017-02-02 05:27 am (UTC)

Date: 2017-01-31 07:58 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
“Please be careful.”

Jetfire lanced a scan through him; nothing like First Aid’s gentle medical scans, this was a harsh, actinic probe, meant for vast distances or peering into the depths of gas giants, almost knocking Barricade back a step. Jetfire loomed over him.

“I’ve been knocking around the universe since before the stars were born whose deaths created the metals that make up your body,” he said, grinning. This was – probably – an exaggeration.

“Not in that body you haven’t,” Barricade snapped, and Jetfire laughed.

Date: 2017-02-01 02:37 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Mo-m, I'm, like, eighty gazillion millennia old, I'll be fine *eyeroll*


Oooh, love the deep-space scans!
And looming Jetfire, so he must be back to his previous size?

Date: 2017-02-01 05:35 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]

Yes, nearing his last molt, I think I say, earlier. Haven't figured out the shape of this one yet, just a couple of bits of interaction. Silverbolt sneaks in a hugging, later. ;D

Date: 2017-02-04 09:59 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Silverbolt wrapped his arms around Jetfire from behind, resting his helm on Jetfire’s shoulder. They were nearly of a height, and would be, once Silverbolt’s growth caught up. They were the same frametype, though Silverbolt tended to favor bright armor to Jetfire’s dark.

“What are you doing?” Starscream blustered, striding up to them and climbing Jetfire’s front, putting his arms proprietarily around Jetfire’s neck. “You can’t leave yet.”

“Soon, Jetling,” Jetfire said, nuzzling Starscream’s forehelm.

“I’m not a jetling, I’m your commanding officer.” Starscream’s pedes dangled a good two spans off the ground.

“Yes, sir.”

Date: 2017-02-05 02:40 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
“I’m not a jetling, I’m your commanding officer
Hee hee! Yes sir Commander Jetling sir XDDDDDDDDD

another bit of the snow ficlet

Date: 2017-01-31 07:59 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
“All your talons,” Barricade explained. “No, inside the mitten. Inside. Inside. Yes, like that. Now the other one.” The hatchlings were lined up – more or less – to be outfitted for their first excursion into the snow on purpose. For fun.

After some research, they’d settled on __ and __ layered for the snowsuits, these being used for humans’ cold-weather gear, rated for Antarctica. Sarah had sketched out the basic pattern, Hoist made suggestions, Sarah drew the finals, and Hoist cut great stacks of the pieces out with a cutting beam that looked suspiciously like a simple laser, although the fabric bore no scorched edges. Hoist had watched Sarah and Phyllis sew the first couple of suits and then set about concocting a way to do it as well, by hand rather than machine, though the difference in this case was debatable and complicated and led to discussions about sentience and life forces and souls and slavery that Sarah hadn’t been entirely prepared for and actually got rather heated once Perceptor butted in.

“No. Capes,” Thundercracker had muttered under his breath, from the sidelines. Bumblebee leaned on his knees and wheezed.

Sarah and Phyllis also knitted little caps and mittens, in a rainbow of variegated yarns. The long pointy tasseled hoods on the suits were adorable, but Sarah had always hated wearing hoods, so she wanted the hatchlings to have options. And indeed now some of the hatchlings were protesting, or whining or sulking. The adults were sympathetic – clothing was an alien concept for the most part (again debatable and complicated), but remained firm. If the hatchlings wanted to go outside in winter they had to wear snowsuits.

“Keep that on, please, my dear,” Perceptor entreated Gasket. “I know, it is strange. The hood goes, yes…watch Annabelle.” Annabelle was modelling her own new snowsuit to demonstrate the idea. “Let me tie it this time, and you can do it next. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Satisfactory!” Ducky caroled, bouncing up and down as Frenzy tried to get his pedes stuffed into the leggings.
*rolls about giggling*
Oh my golly I can just imagine this scene! From my experience trying to get niecelet into her winter things when she has definite IDEAS of how it should be done (or not done) the thought of trying to get fourteen beeps suited up is just hilarious, and so true to life: the wiggling, the not quite understanding where to put fingers in mittens, sulking, whining, negotiating, yep XD

No capes! *sporfle*

Oh dear, who knew sewing snowsuits could become so philosophically contentious, poor Sarah! XD

Frenzy trying to suit up a hatchie, omg - for once, he's being out-wiggled! :D

I may have observed these activities more than participated in them, but...yeah. XDDD

HEEHEEEHEEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEEE!!! <33333333333333333333333333333333333333
Also, having researched packing sites for Antarctica cruises - wanna go? - I've settled on high-quality polyester and thin layers of wool for the snowsuits. I find I rather am charmed by the combination!
Next I need to write out all the shenanigans... What does Niecelet do in the snow? ;D

Also working on the TC/Prowl meeting, which so far is slated to be a flashback in the Midnight Kiss prompt, where Barricade happens to catch TC and Prowl smooching. And then later eyebrow waggles at TC. Or doesn't, if he's still skirting gingerly around Prowl at that point...and therefore TC does the waggling. "Are you gonna ask or not?"

To give myself a deadline, I'm aiming at Feb 28th for these winter ones. ::fingers crossed:: The last couple might be speed-written..................... XD
Edited Date: 2017-02-04 07:18 am (UTC)
Ooh, Antarctica cruise, sign me up!! \o/ Polyester and wool, sounds perfect!

Oddly enough, I've never played with niecelet in the snow! Although we've watched some snow flurries from her glass porch door. We've only had a couple of snows big enough to stick for the two years of her life, and I never happened to be watching her during them. She did make a snowman with mom during our one significant snow so far this year - she told me it had eyes, and arms, and glasses? Mom wasn't sure where she was getting glasses, lol.


*happy dance*

"No capes" Thudercracker had muttered under his breath.
Who introduced the poor Seeker to "The Incredibles"? I'm betting it was Bumblebee (since he was wheezing afterwords).
Plus side - that cute Pixar movie would keep the Hatchlings engrossed ... for the third of a joor it lasted (or until they wear out the DVD).
At least the human element can escape from movie madness.
Poor Sparklingsitters can't - not really, and not totally.

Lovely ficlet.

Re: another bit of the snow ficlet

Date: 2017-02-02 02:55 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Heeee! Well, they enjoyed Sesame Street, so Pixar is next, and they can probably get it in hi-def...
Yeah the caretakers are more or less stuck, though they can take breaks now and then - the hatchlings are p good about being left, as Barricade demonstrated in PWW's fic.

Thank you! :D I'm still working on it, and four others for a winter themed set. They'll all go up on AO3 once I have them done. ^___^

Date: 2017-02-06 01:00 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Streetwise’s helm went up – staring into the steel beam framework of the upper floors of the abandoned car factory. The whine of a high-powered plasma rifle sounded loud in the sudden silence. Thundercracker followed his gaze to find the muzzle of that rifle, and a pair of steely blue optics, pointed directly at him.

“Prowl, don’t!” First Aid wrapped himself around Thundercracker’s helm and canopy. Prowl’s gun wound down several settings but remained pointed at the hinge of Thundercracker’s mandible. TC glowered at him between First Aid’s fingers.

“Explain,” Prowl said.

“The war’s over,” Hot Spot said quickly. “Megatron and Sentinel Prime are dead. There’s nothing to fight over, and very few of us left. Thundercracker came in response to Optimus’ transmission, just like – we’re guessing – you did. First Aid’s just gotten him repaired, please don’t shoot him.”

Hot Spot edged between First Aid and Prowl, at which point Prowl bent his elbow sharply and retracted his gun. Thundercracker glared around Hot Spot’s waist. How dare they think he needed protection from…! Prowl. Well. All right. They’d probably just saved his life.

“Optimus didn’t answer my ping,” Prowl said. He stepped off the beam where he’d been perched, landing lightly. First Aid climbed down off Thundercracker and approached.

“No. He’s in stasis, recovering. Sentinel…Sentinel damaged him fairly extensively in Chicago.” In more than one way, but some things were easier to repair than others.

“Chicago.” Prowl angled his helm slightly, trying out the alien word.

“Wait, don’t connect yet,” First Aid said, clasping Prowl’s arm. “There’s…”

“…we should…” Groove faltered.

“We’re so sorry, sir.” Streetwise took it in both hands. “Jazz was deactivated during the battle of Mission City.”

Thundercracker knew that look. He understood it. It was the look of a mech who had just been stabbed in the spark chamber. He’d worn it himself, a time or two, though the stark, mortal rawness of it was disconcerting on Prowl’s usually unperturbable face.

And then Prowl locked it down. Coiled it up and shoved it under something dreadful and heavy. First Aid didn’t let go, but leaned back a little, startled and worried. Hot Spot reached back for Thundercracker’s hand and held it tightly.

“He and the humans kept Megatron from the Allspark long enough for Optimus to arrive,” Streetwise continued. And then a lot of things had happened all at once, and a lot more had happened since that they also needed to tell him, but Prowl was already furiously assimilating the human internet, doing that thing he did that built a comprehensible whole out of billions of seemingly unconnected parts. The Protectobots watched, waited. Thundercracker stayed where he was. Prowl’s lip components flattened into a hard line.

“Prowl,” First Aid began. “It…isn’t good to bury—”

“Don’t,” Prowl whispered. First Aid recoiled slightly as if he’d been slapped. Thundercracker wanted to punch Prowl into the stratosphere. How dare he pretend he wasn’t hurt, that he didn’t need time to process everything and recover? They were all hurt, all suffering. No war’s ending came without cost, but they had nearly wiped themselves out, hurling their last remnants against a species that fought back with a fierce tenacity that was almost terrifying. None of the Cybertronian survivors were entirely whole, not even these youngsters.

“I must go to Prime,” Prowl said.

Streetwise nodded. He wanted to tell Prowl to be careful, but that felt…traitorous. Optimus would be glad to see him, Streetwise was fairly sure. Optimus had been glad to see them, after all, even if he had also been angry at their disobeying him. Prowl was smart, and canny, and he had known Optimus a long time. It would be all right.

Date: 2017-02-06 03:17 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
OMG this beautiful and perfect *pets it and weeps*

I love how Prowl stands down, not gonna hurt the P-bots but he's going to keep a bead on any little piece of TC he can. Thundercracker glowering from between First Aid's fingers, hee!

And then Streetwise breaks the news and...gah! ;_;

He wanted to tell Prowl to be careful, but that felt…traitorous. Double gah!


Date: 2017-02-06 06:37 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
::bwees happily:: <333

I feel I am channeling IDW!TC a little bit? But kind of only in the sense that there's this shared headcanon of TC the doubter, who would, given his druthers, rather be left alone, who never entirely liked the imperial thing, and has an honorable warrior streak. And that's an old idea, really, from the written bio and stuff, even if it never got any traction in any of the shows. u.u

Which fits with something on tumblr a while ago about AUs, and that they're brilliant precisely because the characters are brilliantly understood and only the background/surroundings change, and it's an exploration of how THAT CHARACTER, which everyone understands to their different shades of meaning, exists and functions in these different worlds that makes them fun/fascinating.

Anyway. Hearts! Hearts everywhere!

Poor Prowl. u.u;;;

I'm almost done with the frame story on this one. Just like I'm almost done with the snowsuits one... Which is first, so I want to get that done before I start posting... TC on the couch is number two, and Feast is 3, which is just notes so far, and Jetfire is 5 but that has a lot of holes in it yet. XD

(Aaaand also, yeah, this sets TC up for not being able to get Prowl out of his mind for several years despite journeying to Cybertron with a very shiny Galvatron and being busy with messy restoration and stuff. Heee~!)
Edited Date: 2017-02-06 06:39 am (UTC)

first part of Midnight Kiss

Date: 2017-02-08 09:19 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
The New Year’s party was in full swing – fizzy drinks, loud music, lots of friends, all the siblings, funny hats – when between one hip-wiggle and the next, Jazz slid senseless to the floor.

Twin paths opened between the youngster and Ratchet and First Aid, followed closely by Barricade.

“Ratch,” Jazz mumbled, optics blinking online as he was thoroughly scanned, “m’okay. Hey, Aid. Think I jus’ sorta…”

“Passed out,” Ratchet said. “Yes, we noticed. Hold still.” Jazz tried to sit up in First Aid’s arms, but fell back, optics dim, dark. First Aid stood and ran him to the medical nook.

They transferred Jazz to the main base once Ratchet determined it was safe to move him; First Aid, Barricade and Thundercracker going with, while Bumblebee, Hoist, Frenzy, Beachcomber and Perceptor stayed at the Retribution to reassure the hatchlings and younglings, and keep the now somewhat subdued party going. (Starscream took charge of the youngest clutch by introducing them to Simon Says.)

“I thought he was past this,” Ratchet sighed. “I thought his frame had finally grown large enough to properly house his spark.” Or something. The physical signs were all so vague, mimicking a dozen other syndromes that were themselves difficult to diagnose; but if Ratchet had been pinned in a corner and forced to define what he thought was wrong, it would have to be something handwavy about Jazz’s spark and the physical world needing to get reacquainted, and it not going entirely well.

“So did I,” First Aid said. Jazz seemed to be stable now, just strangely weary in a way the dancing earlier couldn’t explain. Most of the time he was a sturdy enough third instar, if small. It was easy to forget that he seemed to be reliving the vorn of intense care needed during his first embodiment. Sleepy optics blinked online, and First Aid smiled at him.

“Where’s Prowl?”

First Aid stroked his little helm. “He’s in Detroit with Optimus, dearspark, do you…?”

“I’ll get him,” Thundercracker said, wheeling from the room.

I've fiddled with the order again. I reckon the first two have Barricade's horde at second instar. Third (this one, Midnight Kiss) is third instar for both the horde and Galvie's clutch. Fourth (Feast) could be about the same time or a year or two later. Last one (Winter Solstice), with Jetfire, is clearly Galvie's clutch at sixth instar. ;D

And then I can start on the five for spring! ::sproings about::
Jazzlet! Lil' dude, what the what, oh noes! D: *snuggles him*

Starscream doing Simon Says, how perfect! XD

"Starscream says...stand on one pede!"
"Starscream says...jump up and down!"
"Now sit down!"
"Starscream didn't say!" :D

Prowl snuggles required, most definitely *nodnod*

Five for spring!! :DDDDDDDDD *sproings with*

RE: Re: first part of Midnight Kiss

Date: 2017-02-09 08:06 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]

INORITE????? That just popped in there, after I'd been grinding things out sentence by sentence, word by word. ::shakes head:: XDDD Because of course that's one of his favorite games...............

Yas. ;D

BOINGY BOINGY BOINGY! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\o\

Date: 2017-02-09 08:02 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Next part of 'Midnight Kiss' - I'm not sure about how Jazz is teasing Prowl here. Thoughts? u.u;


Prowl strode in, plating cold, smelling faintly of ozone from the high, fast flight clamped to Thundercracker’s dorsal hull. He went directly to Jazz’s side, sitting on the edge of the medical berth, leaning down to caress Jazz’s helm. “I’m here, bitlet.”

“Prowl?” Jazz grasped Prowl’s hand in both his talons, pressing it to his cheekplate.

“Mmhmm. Giving Ratchet a hard time again, are you?”

“S’my job,” Jazz murmured. “Can you stay?”

“I can, as a matter of fact.” Prowl did a large percentage of his work remotely anyway, and Red Alert had rescheduled a handful of other things already.

“Your hands are cold,” Jazz said, optics lighting brighter to match his grin. Prowl shifted his engine into a higher gear to get his circulation going more efficiently. Not revving, simply a steady hum. Third instar Jazz had no business trying to tease him with remembered intimacies from before.

“Sorry about that,” Prowl said, which was not the answer he had used to give. He tried to pull his hand away, but Jazz kept a firm grip, subsiding a little, optics dimming sleepily.

“Here, Prowl.” First Aid brought him a thin but warm quilt, made from scraps of hatchling snowsuits that had become too worn to hand down. Smiling, Prowl lay down on the berth, curling around Jazz’s small frame, and let First Aid tuck them in.

Date: 2017-02-09 10:55 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Cheeky Jazz is cheeky! From daycamp I maybe have a hyperactive "inappropriate interaction with minors" radar, but this pings me as fine, Prowl's firmly not playing, lol.

*inappropriately sniffs Prowl's plating mmm ozone*

Aw, snowsuit quilt! <33333333333

Date: 2017-02-10 03:59 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
That seems like a good radar to have. u___u <3
It's going to be ...weird for all that batch. No one wants to do more than cuddle with them until they're like 8 thousand years old...le sigh! Yet they remember all the romantic delights!

Heeheehee!!! ;D

\o/ Cybertronians discovering domestic crafts and arts might be one of my new favorite things. <3


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