Playing War Prologue
A/N: I really hope this idea isn't too unoriginal…
Warnings: Youngling abuse, sparkmate abuse, language, and angst stuffs, but also fluff and determined friends,
Disclaimer: I would love to own the transformers, but sadly that is not within the realm of reality at the moment…
Prowl: Lucky for us.
Owl: Shut it.
_This is the LINE BREAK That Starts the Story_
"Decepticons, Attack!" the shouted order from their leader had the Decepticons leaping forward to obey.
"Autobots! Defend the power station!" a ringing voice called out, and suddenly there were opposing forces blocking the way of the Decepticon army.
"Optimus!" the first voice whined. "You're supposed to wait till we attack!"
"We always do that! Can't we just start out fighting this time? It's more fun!"
Both teams halted, turning to the bickering leaders.
"Optimus! Are we goin' t' start th' game soon? If not, Ahm goin' t' go play tag with Starscream,"
Optimus, leader of the Autobot forces, looked over at his fellow youngling. The large red almost-mechling was starting to frown, his boredom gaining the upper hand over his excitement brought on by the game.
"I guess if you don't want to play today, Ironhide, you can go play with the seekerlets," the red and blue youngling replied to his peer's complaint.
"Cool! See ya mechs later!" Ironhide shouted as he turned to where the seekerlets were playing their game.
Optimus shrugged and turned to continue his debate with his brother on 'proper' game-play. The other younglings began wandering away, not wanting to just stand there as the two siblings argued over the popular Great War game. They usually did this every other orn, so really it wasn't that big a deal, and it just meant it would take a joor or so until the two came to an agreement and the game would start again. A small black and white youngling smiled as he took off across the playground, his blue visor flashing in the early orn light of Cybertron's star, as two other younglings chased him. High pitched giggles filled the air, drowning out the two debating siblings.
_Look! It's a LINE BREAK_
In the office of the Iacon Youngling Center, a red femme with a gold chevron was holding onto the small servo of a black and white Praxian youngling as she spoke with the main caretaker. The youngling's gold optics glanced around nervously, though his little doorwings barely twitched out of their neutral position.
"We're so happy to have a new youngling! I'm sure he'll get along nicely with the others," the white and blue trimmed caretaker said, sending a quick kind smile down to the black and white.
The red femme smiled slightly before turning and kneeling down before her youngling. "Okay, bitlet," she spoke softly to the youngling. "I'm going to go now. You be a good little bot here, alright, sweet spark? I will come back for you in a little while after I find a new complex for us,"
He nodded. The femme bent her helm to touch her golden chevron to her creation's little red one in farewell. Standing, the femme let go of his servo and began to walk away.
"Carrier! Wait!" a small voice shouted, and suddenly the red femme's leg strut was being hugged hard as the little doorwinger whispered the last part to his Carrier. She bent down and he switched his grip to her chassis.
"You promise he won't find us?" the youngling repeated fearfully into his Carrier's chest plating.
"I swear to you, bitlet, he will not,"
"I love you, Carrier."
"And I you, my little Prowl…"
And then Prowl let go and the red femme was out the door and gone.
_The End of Prologue LINE BREAK_
A/N: Sooo? What do y'all think? It's is a little bland for a prologue, and short, but I just want to get this out there and see if I should continue… ^^' Reviews are a writer's best friend.