Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

Note: I needed to write a bit of Skywarp and Thundercracker since they're going to be in A Fallen Star, so enjoy a few short trine centered drabbles! There a couple OCs mentioned and a dash of Canon/OC. Two refer to a human, by which I mean Eira Sterling from A Fallen Star. Also, little bit of cussing.


Auilurophile. Skywarp knew he was in trouble. In hindsight, taking the little organic creature back to the Nemesis was a pretty stupid idea. He hadn't meant to step on the creatures Carrier, though, and when he'd looked down at the sleek black creature snarling and fearlessly clawing at his pede, he'd been reminded too much of Ravage to just walk away. Skywarp looked nervously between Soundwave and R2, as he'd taken to calling the organic feline when Ravage The Second was too much of mouthful, hoping Soundwave didn't just up and squish the organic right there. Then Soundwave did something that surprised Skywarp; he reached out and gently stroked R2's head, then walked away without a word. A cat lover.

Assemblage. Skywarp had always hated meetings of any kind; sitting still and quiet was something he'd never been good at. Thundercracker was typically indifferent on the topic; meetings were just things to be done. Starscream had always enjoyed attending meetings on Cybertron; he liked them best when he spoke at them. They could all agree, however, that Decepticon meetings were the worst; this was particularly true now that Megatron seemed to be losing it. So the trine did what they always did when meetings got rough; they made fun of everyone through their bond. A gathering.

Becoming. Thundercracker watched her twirl, optics drinking in the sharp edges of her frame, the rhythmic swing of her hips, before they wandered over her elegant wingspan. She'd changed her paint, turning her once stark white wings the palest shade of blue. Normally he wouldn't be fond of such a soft color, but on her it seemed rather . . . becoming. ::Dude!:: Skywarp's voice shouted across their bond, startling Thundercracker so much he nearly jumped. ::Are you hitting on her? Screamer, TC is hitting on Mistsphere!:: Thundercracker groaned. She raised an optic bridge, and he just shook his helm. Attractive.

Beleaguer. They were more than a team, they were a trine. They fit together seamlessly; they were one in the air. Starscream came in from the side; Thundercracker came down from above. Their opponent was larger, stronger than they were. Skywarp appeared and disappeared, attacking from all angles and avoiding any patterns. It didn't matter their opponent was bigger. Their attacks were constant, one would soar out of reach and another would barrel in and deliver another blow. So long as they fought together, they would win. To exhaust with attacks.

Brood. Starscream sat on the edge of a cliff, glaring down at the little organic village in the valley as he nursed a cube of high grade. Though Megatron hadn't found reason enough to knock him around, he had spent the day verbally abusing the Seeker, which was almost worse. All he wanted to do was wallow alone in his self pity, and he managed about three breems of it before his trine mates showed up. Skywarp threw an arm around him and drew him close. Starscream groaned in false annoyance. Thundercracker's servos found there way to his wings, and he grumbled as he arched into the soothing touch. He liked to brood, but he liked the affection even more. To think alone.

Bucolic. As Thundercracker rubbed soothing circles along his trine mate's wings, he found his optics wandering to the little human village below. It was a tiny place, little brown buildings spread sparsely across the valley, vast stretches of land interrupted only by fences, sparse greenery, and the occasional grazing beast. It was a peaceful scene, reminding him of a painting or a photograph. He found himself hoping they wouldn't shatter this pristine village with their war, though he knew it was an inevitability. In a lovely rural setting.

Bungalow. It was a very simple mission, really. So simple they had let Skywarp perform it alone, which meant everyone was certain it couldn't possible be screwed up. So how he'd ended up on the beach with sand in his gears, Skywarp wasn't really sure. At least he had a nice view of the ocean and the brightly colored little home . . . whose front door had just flung open. Skywarp, who had never done especially well under pressure, just sort of sat there and watched the human femme gape at the purple and black F-22 parked in her front yard. After several breems of mutual blank staring, the femme finally spoke in a shrill, panicky voice that reminded him oddly of Starscream. "I am going back to bed, and when I wake up there will not be a jet on my beach!" She turned around and slammed the door shut. Skywarp left as subtly as he could, deciding not to mention his little detour to anyone back at base. A small, cozy cottage.

Chatoyant. Starscream opened the door to Skywarp's room, stepped in, and froze. Light spilled in from the hallway; a shadow scrambled away from the light; yellow glinted menacingly for just an instant. Thundercracker made a disgruntled noise from the hallway, but Starscream ignored him. Something was in Skywarp's room, something that could be dangerous. Starscream crouched down, prepared to crush whatever dared to invade his trine's space. Yellow glinted in a beam of light, but before Starscream could move the shadow was flying at his face plates with a startling yowl. Starscream shouted and fell backwards into the hall. Thundercracker stared blankly at the large, by Earth standards anyway, black cat as it leapt off of Starscream's helm and raced down the hall. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then their voices rang out simultaneously. "Skywarp!" Like a cat's eye.

Comely. Skywarp furrowed his optic ridges into an expression of complete concentration, eyeing the little organic in Starscream's servo. Despite the obvious lack of armor, he and to admit, her frame was slender and nicely curved, her facial structure was sharp and precise. The energon burn on her face was a tad off putting, but he kind of liked all the speckles on her skin. All in all . . . "Alright, she's kinda hot. I guess you get my blessing." Starscream made a noise of fury no one and had heard since he was a sparkling. The comely organic blanched. "Your brother is a fucking asshole." Attractive.

Conflate. Logically, they knew they had all been separate beings, once, but knowing something and believing something are two very different things. They had been together since sparklinghood. Their sparks had been interconnected for so long that they had blended together, until one just wasn't complete without the other two. To blend together.

Cynosure. A Seeker's wings were a thing of beauty, a source of pride and joy. They were an expressive, adored extension of every Seeker. So when a trine of femmes joined the crew, the Elite Trine naturally spent the first few orns checking out their wings and arguing over who had the most impressive pair. And when the dark grey femme had glanced over, eyed their wings, and then flashed Skywarp a flirtatious smile - well, Starscream and Thundercracker hadn't been very pleased with the implications of that. A focal point of admiration.

Dalliance. It was only a one time thing, Skywarp had assured himself the first time he'd hopped into Stormsteel's berth. It was just another fling for the both of them. The problem was that it had happened again, and again, and again, and it was starting to feel less like a fling and more like a relationship, which was equally terrifying to them both. A brief love affair.

Demesne. Seekers, as it turns out, are very territorial creatures. They are instinctively and fiercely protective of anything deemed theirs, ranging from space to objects to people. Anything that belongs to bond member of the trine, belongs to every member of the trine. This is a lesson many a bot has learned very painfully after walking into the wrong room or winking at the wrong person, only to have a trio of very angry Seekers descend on them with their very sharp claws. Dominion, territory.

Demure. Of all the things Thundercracker thought he would find attractive in a mate, shyness had not been one of the. Then she had walked in, slight and pale colored and hiding behind her trine sisters. He's not sure which did him in first, the timid little grin she was always hiding behind her servo, or the way she'd turn her helm away to giggle nervously when he spoke to her. Maybe it's how she managed to balance such a frail appearance with a warrior's spark. Whatever it was, it had swept the poor mech right off his pedes. Shy and reserved.

Denouement. Skywarp had a very puzzling mystery on his hands. R2 had started disappearing. Every day at the same time, she would just up and be gone for exactly three hours. Normally, Skywarp would give R2 her space, but he was awfully curious about what his cat was up to, so naturally, he decided to follow her. He wasn't exactly sure where he expected to end up, but standing in front of Soundwave's door was definitely near the bottom of the list. He just sort of nudged it open. Soundwave lifted his helm and gave him that blank visor stare. R2 was curled up in his lap, purring contently. Skywarp turned around and walked away. The resolution of a mystery.

Desuetude. Starscream examined the old ship with a critical optic. It wasn't much. It had crashed ages ago, and was half buried in the desert sand. Everything in it had fallen into a state of disrepair over the vorns, but there were still salvageable bits. There were berths, even a lab. Most importantly, neither Autobot nor Decepticon knew of it. It wasn't much, but it would do . . . as long as it didn't collapse on him. Disuse.

Desultory. Starscream had a habit of working until he crashed. There wasn't any slow down period. If anything, he worked faster the longer he was at it. He would be standing one click, and slumped over a table the next. Thundercracker was more consistent. He liked to be active during the twilight hours, so his recharge hours were short, but sufficient, and he was rarely groggy. Skywarp was always groggy. It didn't matter when he went into recharge or when he came out of it, he always took two joors to start moving at a decent pace. He also had a tendency to push people down stairs when they tried to rush him. Slow, sluggish.

Diaphanous. Starscream stared listlessly into the cube of warm energon, watching the filmy liquid swirl slowly. He was starving, and he didn't want to eat. He wanted to crawl out of the medbay, and he didn't want to leave the berth. Everything ached. So he sat there and he stared at the film, until Knockout threatened to sick his trine mates on him if he didn't refuel and recharge. Filmy.

Dissemble. Equality. Freedom. Power. Wealth. Choice. Megatron had promised many things to many bots, and they had all fallen right in line. It was foolish, in hindsight. The Decepticons. Of course it was all lies. But they were in too deep to back out now. Deceive.

Dulcet. Sweet, flaky, melt on your glossa goodness. How long had it been since he'd had Cybertronian sweets? More vorns than he could count. He'd probably been a youngling. With a satisfied groan, Thundercracker onlined his optics and snatched up another stick, noticing that Starscream was already hogging a smile pile for himself. Skywarp was grinning audial to audial. "Never been big on sweets, but I knew you guys would appreciate it." Sweet, sugary.

Ebullience. Starscream stood rigid, his servos clenched into tight fists at his sides. He was shaking; if he glared any harder what was left of the mine might burst into flames. Thundercracker stood with one arm crossed across his chest, one servo pinching the bridge of his nose plate. Skywarp had his servos on his hips as he examined the smelting remnants of the energon source. "Well, look on the bright side. We still have each other!" Thundercracker let Starscream take a few shots at Warp before he stepping in. Bubbling enthusiasm.

Effervescent. Starscream stared in horrified fascination as his human stumbled around the woods, chatting animatedly between swigs of something bubbly about things that made no sense. She kept tripping, even though his human wasn't clumsy. She slurred her nonsense words, even though his human was quite eloquent. He glared at the bubbly liquid. He didn't like his human this way, and he was going to have a serious conversation with the human who brought the drink. Bubbly.


There will probably be more of these because they were fun and I didn't use all the words. If people like these I might even do them for other characters.