Frog: So at the time I'm posting this, only about two of you out there know what "Nevermore" is, but I thought I'd post this one-shot anyways to maybe build some interest for when I begin posting the full series later. Essentially, Nevermore is an original Transformers universe and plot that I'm creating.

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Nevermore-Apprenticed

"Raise your right hand if your base-language download is complete."

Blaster looked up at the analyst in surprise, as for the first time the strange sounds he had been hearing since sentiency actually made sense. Flickering his optics in thought, he promptly raised the requested hand. The mech nodded his approval, according to the body language portion of the download, and he dropped his hand back down.

"Good. Then we can begin."

Blaster wished he were capable of vocalizing his query of 'begin what?' but whatever let the large mech speak was yet to be installed into his sparkling frame.

Sparkling…now that was a strange word. Definition: a forge-spark Cybertronian's carrying frame. Kept small until the spark is strong enough to support full functions. Lacks most capability to care for itself.

Blaster felt his faceplates shift into a frown. He didn't like the sound of that at all. The mech in front of him tilted his helm up to get a better look at the displeased expression on his features, and had the audacity to grin. The analyst then sat back in his seat again and made some marks on an otherwise blank data pad.

"Observes internally," he surmised vocally, "You know most sparklings spend their time observing with their optics and other senses."

Blaster's frown deepened as the mech continued, "Not to say that's bad. But it's very important to my eventual prognosis to understand how you think."

Apparently "prognosis" wasn't in his language download, much to his continued frustration as the analyst reached under the table and set a wide collection of blocks out in front of him. Blaster looked from the mech to the blocks and back again clueless.

"Organize them as you see fit," the mech explained, sitting back to watch. Blaster really wished he knew why this was so important, but once again he couldn't really ask.

So he set himself to his given task, actually finding he quite enjoyed it. The analyst let him play with the blocks a little, watching as he experimented with building a tower, only to tear it down and arrange them in a circle. Finally, he put the blocks into groups, making sure there was one of each color in every set and sat back looking fully pleased with himself. Again, some marks were added to the data pad.

"Very good. Very good indeed," he mused absently as he went over his notes, "So your creators chose to name you Blaster…let's see how affected you are by sound. Just…cover your audios if you hear anything you don't like."

Blaster gave a nod as the analyst now retrieved a small remote and pressed the first button. The sparkling listened contently as they went through the list of sounds from music to a busy street, to progressively louder noises and then some that started to sound frightening. The noise of gunfire caused Blaster to shift uneasily, some part of him making the case that this noise should be avoided, but it was something he could tolerate. A few more buttons on the remote and they were done.

"You liked the music best, didn't you?" the mech asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Blaster nodded and the button for music was hit again for the remainder of the interview, "So you're appropriately mellow to ambient sounds. Let's continue on."

Blaster remained as patient as he could through the continued testing. He still wished the analyst would tell him what this was all for. Finally the data pad was slipped into the mech's subspace, yet another thing the sparkling had no access to, and politely excused himself from the room (but not before getting the blocks out again for Blaster to play with).

In the next room, Smokescreen was grinning quite proudly as he headed for the receptionist of the orphanage. He dropped his notes onto her desk to be filed and crossed his arms.

"Pretty nice spread, isn't it?" he asked conversationally as she read the information over. There was a silent nod of agreement.

"So this one is up for apprenticeship, then, and not adoption. Shall I call the first mech on the list?"

"We're going to disregard protocol for this one. There's a particular bot that would be perfect for tutoring this kiddo!"

The receptionist's optic ridges rose impressively, "She already has an apprentice. There are plenty of other bots needing—"

"Nope, call the Captain of the Enforcers and get her down here. He's exactly the type of sparkling she's looking for."

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Blaster had been quite content playing alone with the blocks and listening to the playful music in the background of the overall sterile room. He wasn't overly pleased to see the analyst return.

"Ok, Blaster, just one more test and we can send you to your new home. How's that sound?"

The sparkling tilted his helm up suspiciously but gave a nod. The analyst stepped aside to allow two figures into the room. Blaster scrambled back in surprise as they hopped onto the table and proceeded to circle him. He looked up at the analyst, but the mech's face was impassive as the strange quadropedal beings continued to stalk around him with curious optics.

Cybercats, the term applied itself to them. Semi-sentient drones that required a symbiotic relationship with a Cybertronian in order to thrive. Popular for their varied usage in virtually all fields.

One black and the other yellow. He kept trying to turn his helm to keep both of them in view, but it was just making him dizzy to keep up. Eventually the pacing stopped and they both faced him with unknown purpose.

The yellow one stepped forward first, and Blaster narrowed his optics defiantly. He had little concept that the drone could pose a threat, that the sharp edges of its jaw would make short work of his frail plating. No, he didn't realize that perhaps he should be afraid of a cybercat that had been formatted to act on the offensive when it was called for.

But perhaps even if he did have the understanding of pain or deactivation, Blaster still wouldn't have been afraid.

And perhaps he also sensed that he didn't need to be as the yellow cybercat proceeded to sit comfortably beside him, its systems rumbling contently as its black companion came and sat on the sparkling's other side. He looked between the two in bemusement.

"See? He gets along with them just fine," the analyst chuckled. Blaster finally noted that another Cybertronian had entered the room, this one's features hidden behind a mask and yellow visor. The cybercats turned to her attentively but the sparkling shrank back between them.

The stranger said nothing, giving a small nod to the analyst before approaching the table. The cybercats returned to her side as Blaster was carefully taken into her hands. He wriggled uncomfortably, but the royal blue femme paid him no mind as the room was evacuated. Blaster managed to sit still through the signing of paperwork, something about custody and apprenticeship he didn't fully understand. It meant this stranger was going to teach him? About what?

The analyst called her Soundwave, though Soundwave never talked back. It made Blaster uneasy. How could he use his new language downloads if she never said anything? As though in an answer to his question, a download link was planted into the back of his helm as he was waving goodbye to the orphanage staff, along with a small device to his arm that the new data input quickly identified as an encrypted com. Once the necessary information was installed, Blaster quickly grew excited by his new 'toy' as he discovered preloaded access to both Cybercats, Soundwave, and a few designations he was sure to be able to place later.

He could talk now! Well…sort of. But it was better than nothing.

He sent a small 'Hi, I'm Blaster.' to everyone he had access to.

The cybercats, Steeljaw and Ravage, were quick to send a warm reply that didn't exactly come in words but he found he could understand nonetheless. Other replies of welcome were quick to follow from those he was yet to meet.

Soundwave responded last, 'I have high expectations of you, Blaster. Very high indeed.'