Of Praxians and Organic Felines: Chappie 1
A/N: Hello all! R. Owl here, bringing you another story~! Don't worry, don't worry, I'm not stopping writing the next chapter for Playing War! It's coming, but the Muse is meaner than a scraplet when I try to tell her that I need to work on that... Plus, I'm at college now, so I have to write actual work papers instead of just fanfiction... *pouts* BUT! I do have this adorable little crack tri-shot that I made for you all! Just to tide you over. Please enjoy and I promise to have the next PW chappie up soon! Read & Review! ;P
(Quick WARNING: this is a total crack fic so expect OOCness from pretty much everyone)
Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own the franchise known as Transformers (at least, not in this universe). I am merely here for the enjoyment of screwing around with their characters and playing in their sandbox.
Now, onto the story!~
_I Am LINE BREAK_
The battle had been an unusually short one. The distress call had originated from a power plant fairly close to the ARK, so it only took a mere human hour to race to the rescue. By the time they'd gotten there, Megatron had already scrapped Starscream for some unknown reason, but was most likely a sarcastic comment made by the annoying Seeker. With the Air Commander out of the equation, the disorganized Decepticon air forces were easily taken down by Bluestreak's sniper fire. Without air support, the other Decepticon forces were easily picked off by the Autobot's own flight capable mechs. Following the cold commands given to them over the comm.s, the Autobots quickly pushed the advantage and soon the only 'con still able to put up any real fight was Megsie himself. Seeing the way the Autobots had fairly easily destroyed his forces, Megatron had a moment of clarity, and he (in a surprisingly intelligent move) called for a full retreat all the while swearing his revenge (again).
The entire encounter had lasted a mere fifteen human minutes.
The resounding cheer through the comm.s pretty much guaranteed there would be a party later on, and most of the victorious Autobot forces headed back towards the ARK. Only one black and white remained behind to deal with the humans and the technical details.
Prowl vented in exasperation when he was once again left behind to deal with the aftermath of the battle by himself, but began to take inventory of all the damage caused and calculate the repair costs… if only being part of the Autobots didn't mean he was practically obligated to fix the damage caused by their enemies, but alas, they were the "good guys" and it was their "responsibility" to fix damage the "bad guys" did… He knelt down to speak with the police officer that had just arrived, and tried to ignore the flashes of cameras the new crews had brought.
Sometimes, Prowl really hated his job… especially when he was stuck with clean up duty.
_Partying Planning LINE BREAK_
It was close to another joor before Prowl made it back to the ARK. He suppressed the urge to vent again as he headed towards his office to start on the mountain of datapads that somehow was always generated from even the smallest of battles. He paused halfway there when his doorwings picked up hushed mutterings from a supposedly deserted hallway. Those datapads would need to wait. Doorwings flicking in annoyance at what was probably something that would bring him grief in the near future, he stealthily made his way towards the stairwell that was situated partway down the hall. The mutterings were echoing up from the storage deck and Prowl slowly made his way towards the source of the sound. He paused as he reached the next level when the whispers suddenly cut off.
"Did ya hear somethin' just now?" the voice was much clearer now that he was closer, and he recognized the distinct vocal tones of Jazz.
"No, I didn't hear a thing… What about you, Sunny?" the slightly muffled clang of metal hitting metal confirmed the presence of the twins even before Sunstreaker spoke.
"Do not call me Sunny. And no, I didn't hear anything."
"Maybe you imagined it Jazz," Sideswipe's voice was quieter, and Prowl had to strain his sensors to hear Jazz's uncertain reply.
"Yeah, maybe… Let's get back ta plannin'."
Prowl listened from the alcove of the stairwell, trying to pinpoint their location. A few kliks later, he made his way silently to the second to last room on the right. Casually, he leaned against the wall next to the door, sensitive doorwings able to pick up everything from this distance with no need to interrupt just yet. It was always better to have information on whatever trouble these mechs were up to before it happened.
"'Kay, we established a time, but wha' exactly do we wan' ta happen? And how are we gonna keep Prowler away from it long enough ta at least have a bit o' party time?"
Prowl glanced at the door in mild surprise. Apparently, he'd found the trio of party planners in the middle of planning.
"Well… I'm not sure about Prowl, but I can provide the drinks. And didn't Blaster say a few days ago that he had some new tracks he liked? Why not have him pull something up?"
"Sounds good to me."
Prowl didn't move as he recorded while the three planned out the party, an idea forming. Reaching into his subspace, he pulled out a blank datapad while sending out a comm. link to Red Alert. As he listened to the group, he spoke with the paranoid mech about allowing a party later on in the solar cycle while simultaneously started a list on what they could have, what would need to be limited, and what would have to be banned. He included a curfew of 0200 hours… both for his sake and for Red Alert's, not to mention the duty roster.
"Yeah, Ah'm down wit tha'. So, are we goin' wit just a standard relax-it-by-getting'-overcharged kinda thing?"
"I think that's probably a good idea."
"I believe that would be ideal as well, though I believe I shall be setting some ground rules. Oh, and the issue of keeping me away from it "long enough to at least have a bit of party time" is now null."
The three bots hunched over a crate and datapad jumped as the door to their Lair of Super Secret Party Planning opened with the one bot they didn't want to see standing in the doorway.
"Ah! P-Prowler! Uh… Good ta see ya, my mech! Um- wha' are ya doin' down here?" Jazz swayed to stand in front of the datapad.
Prowl raised an optic ridge, though nothing else in his expression changed. "I could ask the same of you three. After all, this corridor is not listed for repairs nor has a form been filled out for supplies from this particular room. Additionally, none of you have been scheduled for duties that come close to this location… These things alone make your presence here suspicious." Jazz made to speak, but Prowl cut him off, the faint hint of a smirk almost showing, "Plus, I have heard everything you three have said in the past five breems."
Jazz and the twins deflated a bit at that.
"So… I guess that means we can't have that party, huh?" Sideswipe sighed.
"No. I would not say that." Prowl stated calmly, a hint of amusement flickering through him as the three bots jerked in shock.
"Prowler? Ya feelin' okay?" Jazz looked at the other black and white in confusion, slightly disturbed at the comment that was out of character for the rule loving mech.
"I am fine, Jazz. This is quite a logical decision. I know I will be unable to prevent a party, but I am able to curb your more… rambunctious tendencies. And since I do acknowledge the need for an outlet for the troops to release excess energy— Here," Prowl tossed a datapad at the startled saboteur. "This is a list I have compiled of my rules. Do not try to find loopholes or you will not like the consequences. Do not break these rules and I will have no reason to punish you. You will find it has already been cleared by both me and Red Alert. No, I will not explain how I have managed to gain Red Alert's approval. Good orn, Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker." With that, the Praxian swept elegantly out of the storage room, leaving the three mechs on the verge of glitching to pull themselves together.
"For a hard-aft, Prowl can sometimes be an okay mech…" Sideswipe muttered as Jazz onlined the 'pad.
Jazz groaned, "No he ain't, Sides. He gave us a curfew…"
"Slag that stupid glitch."
_Amused LINE BREAK_
For a party that had rules, like a fragging curfew, it was surprisingly alright. Sure, it wasn't what it could have been, but it was still a pretty awesome party… Alright, so the three bots that planned it were complaining about Prowl, Mr. I-have-a-really-long-piece-of-rebar-up-my-aft, a lot, but really? Who cared? There was high-grade, there was loud music, there was no alarm curtsy of a paranoid security director going off, and there was no black and white Praxian with sirens blazing to interrupt… it was a good party!
It was nearing the set curfew and a good number of bots were well over the line of 'tipsy'. Ironhide and Ratchet were in a corner, cubes of high-grade surrounding them, trying to out-drink one another and already surrounded by empty cubes. Earlier, Blaster had been having a great time mixing new songs he'd found, with occasional input from Jazz, but now he and the upbeat saboteur were laughing and talking by the sound system, a premade track playing in the background. The minibots were gathered around a table playing an odd game involving high-grade, what looked like arm-wrestling, and (strangely) a rubber chicken that was currently duck taped to the back of Cliffjumper's helm. Smokescreen was set up at another table with the Aerialbots and a curious Hound, cards dealt and trying to teach them blackjack, which was actually quite hilarious since it looked like half of them were about to fall over. Inferno had even been in and out with a couple cubes of high-grade a while ago, mumbling something about getting Red Alert to relax a bit. Sunstreaker was lounging at another table, his arm draped over a giggling Bluestreak, as Sideswipe recounted one of his more recent escapades, his arms flailing wildly as he described a chase scene involving him, a bucket of paint, an enraged Hatchet stuck to the wall, a really fast Prowl determined to catch him, and a wall.
"—so there I was, speeding away from the scene with Prowl's sirens closing in on me, when all of a sudden this wall jumps out at me!"
"You mean you weren't looking where you were going and ran into it." Sunstreaker interrupted, amused at his brother's clumsiness.
"That is not true!"
"Yeah, it is. You're clumsy and you know it."
"I am not clumsy!"
"Sure, of course not…"
"I'm not! It's just, occasionally, the floor hates me. And I know the tables and chairs are bullies… and the walls get in my way! I am not clumsy!"
"Keep telling yourself that."
"Sunny~…"
Bluestreak giggled harder at the banter as the golden mech smacked his twin for the nickname. His engine hiccupped slightly as something touched his doorwing, and he giggled again.
"Hehe, you guys are really funny. I'm really happy Prowl agreed to this. He was really frustrated about the whole it's-against-the-rules-so-I-need-to-stop-it-but-the-troops-need-it situation. I'm so glad he found a solution! Now he won't be as frustrated. Although, it did take him a while to find this solution, but I guess that's kinda expected because it's Prowl and finding a way for the rules to allow a party so he doesn't need to step in so long as the rules are kept would probably have taken a while since he does have a ton of other things to do because his is SIC and has a lot of paper work and is really busy with delegates and important stuff like that so something like compiling party rules would have taken a back seat to stuff like that plus he really isn't a party mech so he wouldn't know a whole lot of what should be allowed or what even really goes on because he never really shows up unless it's to shut it down—"
Bluestreak was cut off my Sunstreaker placing a servo over his lip-plating.
"Blue, while it's nice you care about your brother, can you not bring him up now? I'd just forgotten the whole curfew thing… not to mention all the other fragging rules…" Sideswipe grumbled.
Bluestreak nodded rapidly from under the servo still clamped over his face. Sunstreaker let go and moved the arm back to behind the other mech, armor lightly scraping across a doorwing.
The Praxian stiffened suddenly at the contact, and then shuddered, a rumbling noise from deep within his chassis sounding briefly before being cut off. The twins froze at the unexpected noise, trading bewildered looks, before focusing on the now nervously giggling sniper.
"What was that?" Sideswipe asked, both mechs staring at the doorwinger.
"Uh-haha-it, um, it really wasn't anything. I mean, it kinda was a noise, but nothing really important. I- uh, it's not like bots don't make odd noises every now and then, and the contact thing was a bit unexpected, so obviously I was going to make a noise because, as I'm sure you know, doorwings are a bit sensitive, and you can't expect me not to make a noise. So, really, it wasn't anything, and hey, weren't we talking about something else and not weird noises? 'Cause I don't think we were talking about weird noises, unless you made a weird noise hitting the wall. Which is understandable because it would've hurt a bit to hit a wall at high speeds, which is what I'm sure you were doing, running from Pr—eek!"
Bluestreak's rambling was once again cut off, but this time by Sunstreaker deliberately stroking a doorwing.
"D-don't do tha—" Bluestreak started to protest before he cut himself off as that odd rumbling started up again. His doorwings fluttered up into Sunstreaker's servo, demanding more strokes, something the bemused golden mech was all too willing to give. Before the frontliner knew what was going on, the Praxian had situated himself so that he was sprawled across Sunstreaker's lap, doorwings fluttering happily under the stroking servo, and that odd rumbling continuously coming from the Praxian's chest-plating as the sniper's optics shuttered in bliss.
"Is- is he purring?" Sideswipe gawked.
"I-uh- yeah, he is…" Sunstreaker said, just as baffled. He continued to… well, pet Bluestreak.
Sideswipe broke down laughing. "Oh, Primus! He's purring! PURRING! This is hilarious!" This loud exclamation of hilarity, plus additional outbreak of laughter, drew a few looks from others, who were quick to do a double take at the odd scene of a usually violent Sunstreaker stroking the doorwings of a certain Praxian sniper that was sprawled in his lap…
"Wha' ta slag?" Ironhide slurred from where he and Ratchet were slumped over a good thirty or so empty cubes as he took in the scene. Ratchet giggled a bit at the scene, something that had Ironhide leaning the other way even in his inebriated state.
"Ha, I'd for-gahten 'bout tha' featu-re in Prraxians!" Ratchet laughed, too out of it to really go into any depth as he promptly passed out.
"Ha! Take tha'! I tot'lly wo-n!" Ironhide smirked before abruptly following the CMO, his helm landing with a thunk on the table.
The minibots paused in their game… well, the ones still there and online. Half were missing and several of the ones accounted for were sprawled on the floor. A clearly tipsy Brawn made his way over to the twins, followed by Huffer and Bumblebee, who was wearing the rubber chicken on one of his audio horns. All three of them were watching the purring Bluestreak in a kind of morbid fascination, forgetting/ignoring for the moment the usual enmity they had with the twins.
"Tha's sooo weird…" Brawn mumbled, poking at the sniper's doorwings himself before backing off as Sunstreaker growled.
A giggle from across the room had all online occupants looking over to an amused Smokescreen who was in the middle of playing Go Fish with Fireflight, Hound, Mirage, who had at one point joined Hound, and Trailbreaker, who had come with Mirage. The others of the original group had either passed out or had left and taken said passed out mecha with them.
"Nah, that's normal."
Everyone stared at the other Praxian as he calmly told Mirage to 'go fish'.
"Wha'?!" the choked question came from Jazz, who had been chilling with Blaster as the party wound down. The sentiment was evidentially shared by the rest of the room as each optic turned to look at Smokescreen expectantly.
"'s a normal reaction for a Praxian whose havin' his doorwings pet like that… What?" Smokescreen looked around at the mechs who were all staring at him like he'd grown another helm.
"Mech, dat ain't normal…" Brawn muttered.
"He's probably glitched and we're gonna get in trouble tomorrow, if not from Ratchet, then from Prowl…" Huffer moaned.
"Hehe. Nah, I told ya mechs, this iz per-fect-ly normal for us Praxians."
"Smokey, are ya tellin' us ya purr when a mech pets yer doorwings?" Jazz's incredulous voice had Smokescreen chuckling again.
"Yep! I guess ya could say it's kinda like that one organic… the feline—uh, cat."
"Mech, that's hilarious!" Sideswipe broke out, leaning over to pet the sniper himself. "Hehe, he purrs…"
Brawn let out his own giggle before suddenly collapsing, Huffer and Bumblebee barely catching him as they expressed their own humor at the notion. The two dragged their comrade over to the pile of other recharging minibots, just in time it seemed, as Huffer collapsed an astrosecond later. Bumblebee raised his arms in apparent victory before taking out a permanent marker and doodling an odd symbol on all of the passed out minibot's face-plating…
Jazz ignored the odd behavior of his subordinate with practiced ease as he focused on the situation in front of him, overcharged processor spinning, making him slightly dizzy, as a devious plan formed. A grin split his face-plating, making Blaster lean a bit away from his potentially insane and plotting friend.
"Sooo, Smoky, ya sayin' this is like instinct, righ'?"
Smokescreen nodded, smiling indulgently at Fireflight as the Aerial told him to 'go fish' before hiccupping and falling over.
"And it goes for all Praxians, righ'?"
"Yea, Jazz, it does…" Smokescreen glanced over at the saboteur as the visored mech stood and sauntered over to the gambling Praxian.
"And it means if Ah do this—" Jazz cut himself off by reaching over and rubbing his servos up and down the length of Smokescreen's doorwings.
"Hey! Wai-oh!" Smokescreen shuttered his optics, doorwings fluttering, as that same rumbling started up from him. Mirage smirked as his CO started to pet the cheating mech across from him (seriously, he was cheating, and at Go Fish, too!). Trailbreaker huffed a laugh next to him, and he glanced at the mech just in time to prevent him from toppling very painfully onto the floor. He settled the now recharging mech gently down onto the table, sneaking a peek at his cards. Hmph, apparently Trailbreaker was also cheating… Mirage knew he'd had that other four…
Hound laughed and leaned in to experience the purring 'bot for himself.
"Hehe, he's just like a cat. You can feel the vibrations through the doorwings… tha's so weird in a cool way…" Hound mused to himself, optics flickering.
"You are too easily amused, Hound," Mirage hummed to the other mech.
"You think it's funny, too, 'Raj. Admit it!" Hound smirked, leaning away from the still purring Smokescreen to look at the former Noble.
"I never stated otherwise."
Jazz grinned as Smokescreen flopped down on the table, card flying everywhere, purring like crazy.
"Hmm… Wonder if dis would work on Prowler…" Jazz mused aloud. He was not ready for the reaction.
"NO!" twin shouts of alarm startled the online mechs, all motions of petting ceasing.
The twins looked at Bluestreak, alarmed at how quickly he'd gone from content to terrified at Jazz's question. Blaster, Mirage, and Hound were just as startled. Bumblebee had jumped and fallen over from where he was crouched doodling what looked like bumblebees on Gears' face. Jazz jerked away from the suddenly very alert Smokescreen.
"Listen to me," Smokescreen said, voice tense and optics hard, "Do not, I repeat, DO NOT touch Prowl's doorwings, EVER. Do not try to pet them, poke them, or even think of doing so in his vicinity. I am not joking."
"Wha'? Why not?" Jazz asked, bewildered at the sudden sober seriousness of the doorwinger.
Bluestreak whimpered and trembled from his position sprawled on Sunstreaker's lap. Smokescreen's optics took on a grimmer look even as a shudder rippled visibly throughout his entire frame.
"…Bad things—BAD things— happen whenever Prowl's doorwings are touched without his express permission…" Smokescreen finally said.
"What things, mech? Ya not makin' sense…" Blaster spoke from his seat near the sound system where he and Jazz were originally joking around, not quite ready for the serious turn the situation had taken.
"It's terrifying, and it shouldn't be 'cause he's my little brother, but he's scary and I can't believe it happened. How could it have happened? And, oh my Primus, it was awful, and there was—oh, Primus, it was everywhere and how did he manage to do that? Slag, I don't wanna see anything like it again. Pit, even the Seekers know, and he's part of nightmares, and why? Why? WHY?!—" Bluestreak whimpered, servos clamping over his optics.
Smokescreen looked over at his brother, optics distant, as he spoke, "There is a very good reason you never see the Seekers firing at Prowl if they don't have to… and a reason he avoids fighting one on one with any 'con. It's not what you all think, he can fight… it's just…"
"Just…?" Jazz prompted.
Smokescreen said no more, optics whitening in fear as he whimpered.
All the other bots looked around at each other in mystification, slightly scared at the reactions of the two Praxians. This would need investigation for sure… that is, if they remembered any of this the next orn…
_Weird-ed Out LINE BREAK_
A/N: YA-HA! So, what do you think? Like it? Love it? Want to dismember it and burn it to ash? Leave a comment! Reviews are beautiful nuggets of soul nourishing inspiration and I'd love to hear from you all! Even if it's just a "So Cool! Please update!", don't be shy and tell me what you think! Did I mess up on grammar somewhere? Spot a mistake? Please tell me! I enjoy opportunities to improve! Wanna share your ideas on plot and your theories on what happens next? Feel free to message me! But, please, no flamers! My cute little Seeker trine isn't so little anymore (I think I fed them a bit more than I should have) and they love to play with fire... I don't want any of you cuties to get hurt! ;D And to encourage you to review (ha, rhymes...), I'll give you some incentive! I already have chappie two ready and waiting and I know exactly what to write for chappie three! (Remember, this is a tri-shot, so only three chappies!) As soon as we reach five reviews, I'll post the next one (and will most likely be starting to edit the last one)! So, Review, review, review, and I'll see you later! Ja ne! ~Reclusive Owl
P.S. - Prowl's out hunting down the chaos twins, so he couldn't be here to support me in the intro, and I'm pretty sure you guys really don't want to meet the other voices in my head... But he'll be back later! But he'd tell you to review if he were here... *hint hint*