Transformers Drabbles 01
AotA
Ron Witwicky/Ratchet/Hands
Ron loved working in his yard. He loved to run his fingers over the gentle soft blades of grass that he loved like a child. His hands were the ones who pulled weeds and watered the grass. His hands were what let him keep the grass as vibrant a green as it was.
Ratchet loved to work on well functioning systems. He loved knowing that his comrades were alive and well, sensing the sparks of those mechs he loved as brothers resonating with his own. He know that he held his brothers' lives in his hands. They depended on him.
Barricade/Ratchet/Formal
Barricade stood at attention, frame retrograded to its pre-war condition with several more Autobot weapons. Why he had chosen to downgrade into a smaller frame when he was taken, Ratchet didn't know. Now, instead of small, bladed weapons, he wielded large cannons that jutted over his shoulders and sensor panels that had been forcibly removed vorns ago, judging from the scarring of the subpar nanitic repair, flared in their rightful positions. He stood at an almost agonizingly formal position and his face was politically neutral as his four optics followed Optimus when he entered medical. Optimus smiled, "Welcome back, Prowl."
Ironhide/Jazz/Mistake
Jazz grinned at Ironhide as they stood on the firing range. He grabbed his weapon and sighted down the range. He ignored the weapons specialist's grumbling with a snicker, "Oh shut up, Ironhide." He hefted the unwieldy Decepticon cannon.
"You look utterly ridiculous," the gruff mech told him. "Normally, I advocate weapons…"
The cannon fired with an enormous roar and Jazz was blasted backwards and toppled over from the recoil. He blinked several times in shock. Ironhide stared. He guffawed, "I think it's a bit big for you…"
Jazz started to chuckle and shoved the cannon off him, "Me too!"
Xbox360con/Jazz/Disagreement
Jazz grabbed at the tiny little real gear. The Xbox dodged and blatted a derogatory sound at his larger cousin. "Hey now," Jazz protested, "That ain't cool little dude! Gotta getcha ta Ratchet. 'E's gonna have mah aft for takin' so long already!"
The Xbox snickered at him from it hiding place unrepentantly and Jazz groaned, "Please little X-bot! Help me out, little dude! Please?"
The real gear gave a thoughtful hum, as if pondering if Jazz was worth it. Eventually, the little bot gave a resigned chirr and crawled out of its haven.
Jazz snapped it up and ran.
Tom Banachek/Captain Archibald Witwicky/Roundabout
Tom Banachek wondered if, in a roundabout way, Captain Archibald Witwicky changed the world in a way it would have never happened had his expedition never stumbled upon the find of, not just the century, but the find of millennia, of millions of years. The Captain might have been driven insane, but what he uncovered paved the way for the radical growth and change for the human race.
It was confounding to think that, had the Ice Man never been discovered, the human race would have continued along unknowing and ignorant for a long time coming. They touched the unknown.
Ironhide/Barricade/Need
Ironhide's cannons hummed with the buildup of energy and the glow reflected off of the jagged and spiky features of the Decepticon's face and head. Barricade's four red optics stared him down.
"Kill me," he rasped.
Ironhide was sorely tempted, but having a Decepticon actually ask to be offlined was unusual enough to make him stay his hand. "No."
Rage caused red optics to flare, "I'll kill you!"
Ironhide began to wonder if Barricade was even more insane than the usual Decepticon fare.
After several moments of struggling to move, Barricade slumped.
"I need to die. All Autobots must die.