Here's my new story! I was hesitant about putting it on here, so consider it a gift!
The giant metal building loomed over the town. Its glazed glass windows glinted in the light given off by the sun positioned high in the sky.
Large and intimidating it was, ancient yet new.
Metal spikes and panels rose off of its wide roof, points and sheets serving as fearsome gargoyles that gave off the impression that eradication would come should it be challenged by unwanted visitors.
The building breathed; the movement cloaked the lower creations in cold, intense shadow. The toxic air surrounding it flew through the windows and crevices, staining the monster's thick and cloying hazy shroud with black poison—a substance, however lethal, needed for life on its gargantuan home planet.
Intimidating and imposing it was;
And it was my new school.
"Are you certain that this is a good idea?"
"She needs the experience. She cannot stay locked in her room forever."
"'Blade, she has been social before—"
"Redwing, talking with the neighbors will not count. Not in this manner of perspective."
"Whiteblade, do you think I do not know this?" Her voice lowered in volume. "I am only worried. What if they mock her? She is not ready for such—"
"She is as ready as she will ever be, and you know it," he growled.
"I am not questioning your manner of judgment, Whiteblade, and you know it."
A moment of silence passed, followed by a low growl. "Redwing, this I know: she is a highly capable being with much potential, with a sense of honor, pride, and strength no young one I know has. She is ready."
She sighed. "Whiteblade, you had better be right." She turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.
"Primus help us if you are not."
"What's going on over there?" A massive figure approached one standing on the street curb.
"There's a new family moving in. They say their daughter is attending school with us."
"You know anything about her?"
"No, but her parents are well-known." He paused for suspense, optics glittering.
"Who are her parents?"
"Whiteblade and Redwing."
The figure turned to face his companion. "Jackie, you can't be serious! Whiteblade and Redwing are saboteurs! They're wanted everywhere except Kaon."
The other grinned, scarred faceplate glinting in the light. "Bulk, I'm as serious as the hull of my ship."
"Jackie, you don't have a ship."
"Not yet, you mean."
"By the Allspark—"
"—ah, ah, ah." The scarred Cybertronian faced his companion. "I am going to have a ship, no doubt it, and if you so much as question me again I will turn you into a science experiment." He turned and loped down the sidewalk, leaving the other wondering what in the world Jackie was talking about.
"Wait—! Wheeljack! Do not joke like that! That isn't funny!"
The retreating Cybertronian waved his hand, his voice echoing towards the other. "It is to me. And my name is Wheeljack, not Jackie!"
"Sure thing," Bulkhead called, adding beneath his breath, "Jackie."
He should have seen the boulder heading for him.
The brush moved quickly over the board. Thin, wide, light, dark. Lines created by the simple twist and press of the servo.
Her focus was completely on the work before her. Her optics were glued to the board, her body frozen; the only movement was the gliding sweep of her hand.
A knock on her door startled her. "Honey? It's Redwing."
She froze, brush raised. Paint dripped in a stream on her lap.
"Honey? Are you in there?"
She stood, wings twitching. Why was she here? What did she want? Who did she want? These thoughts ran through her processor as she approached the door, opening it a crack. The tall female Cybertronian stood there; wings raised high and red optics glowing. She was in a bad mood.
What do you want?
Redwing scowled, fangs bared. "Have I not told you to cease that processor ache inducing habit? You cannot do that."
I can do whatever I please.
The air heated, tendrils of steam rising in swirls around her adoptive mother. Inside, she was secretly frightened, as Redwing had never been in such a fiery mood. But this feeling did not show on her faceplate. What showed was an indifferent look of cold, soul-burning awareness and examination, one she knew made Redwing uncomfortable.
However, this trick wouldn't have its desired effect for long. Redwing had a bizarre way of adapting to attacks like this. Her processor would soon reject the direct assault, forming its counter attack that could, if she tried to use her telepathy, leave her in stasis-lock, which was not something she wanted.
"Fine." She heard her own voice, low and raspy from lack of use. "What can I do for you?"
Redwing relaxed slightly, the air cooling. "'Blade and I need to speak to you."
"About?"
"Take a guess." The femme turned, heading down the hall. When she realized the other hadn't followed, Redwing turned. "Come now. Are afraid of us?"
She scowled. "No."
"Then let us not waste time dawdling." She turned and disappeared silently.
She vented heavily. Some day this was going to be.
Hope you liked it! Check out the bios of Nightwish, Redwing, and Whiteblade on my profile page; it'll help you understand them better.
A/N: Any characters from any Transformers show WILL be out of character. The events that made them the way they are have not happened. Just letting you know.
Chapter 2 will be updated soon!