Fire of Youth One-Shot: Mistakes Were Made
*Just a goofy one-shot that may or may not lead to a series of goofiness on the part of the Seelies...
*The FoY chapter and NotB chapter are coming. I just get writer's block (sort of) when I'm cooped inside for five straight days. I: Exercise helps me think, and with all the flooding/rain, I can't exactly bike like usual, and my campus and the local gym are closed down due to Harvey. So yeah. Cooped up. Sort of depressed with all the rain and recovering from nightly panic attacks that went till 4 in the morning for the past few days. Decided to write something short n' funny to lighten my mood.
Observation was the most potent of methods for revealing traitors. Constant monitoring had caught traitors over the vorns consistently, some of them in the midst of betrayal. There was a simple truth he had formed over the vorns his task spanned: everyone had a base set of actions, behaviors, and speech patterns, traitor or not. Finding that base rendered discovery of outlier behavior sparkling's play. Finding such outliers was made simpler still when hiding was made a non-option. The Nemesis, by virtue of his presence, was a visual prison. Nothing occurred within its confines without him hearing it or seeing it – and without Lord Megatron subsequently knowing in the process. Predacons knew intimately the value of loyalty so Shockwave insisted. "Traitor" was a concept the vast majority were unfamiliar with, and such individuals were dealt with swiftly and permanently.
Through observation of the little ones, he was suspecting that apparent fact was not entirely accurate.
The green Canipid were not behaving in the normal, loyal fashion that Shockwave expected. Even as he watched, the hound, padding down a hall, warped somewhere. It took a moment to locate him: motion sensors and energy detectors found him in a storage bay connecting to Knockout's medical bay. An astrosecond later and he was gone. Another few moments of search and he located him the work room Lord Megatron had at one point relegated to Orion, now occupied by the little hound against orders. Clasped in his jaws was...
Unexpected.
Tag-Along had had the perfect opportunity (and abilities) to steal a weapon or raid their vaults. Instead, he'd chosen a canister of paint. Orange paint, left in storage after Breakdown's demise. His allies Ramhorn and Catscratch were grabbing similarly unusual items: a bucket for the Ramian, and a bundle of wire and some bolts for the Felioid. None of it was harmful in any conceivable arrangement. They were not using short-band or comm's, speaking instead in their native language, but he'd been around Skywarp long enough to guess what they were going to attempt. Protocol demanded he put a stop to it, but...he was interested to know who they were aiming to trick. It would provide further insight on their motives at any rate...
Coming to a decision, Tag-Along warped the Felioid and the Ramiam to the entrance of the medical bay, and they set to work rigging their trap.
'So their aim is someone in the medical bay...'
He checked the bay's occupancy. Lord Megatron, Shockwave, Knockout, and the new Draconian femme, Sizzleslash (unconscious) were inside the bay.
It took less than a breem to set the trap, and then the trio fled into the grates that lined the walkways, peeking their helms out to get a better view of the door. He contacted a nearby soldier, alerting him and ordering a prompt dismantling of the trap. He then shut down the mechanisms that controlled the door's motion detectors. Childish trifles such as this were beneath his commander.
Knockout headed for the door. When it refused to open, he tried to pry it open. His digits simply weren't slender enough to reach inside the thin seam that separated the two panels. He drew back in a huff.
"Soundwave?" Knockout demanded. "Open the door!"
He pinged the medic that the door was malfunctioning, so he had locked it down to prevent problems. Knockout's expression altered and he reported it to Lord Megatron. The grey warrior did exactly what he'd hoped he wouldn't but that in hindsight made perfect sense: he overrode the lock-down and strode out to investigate the problem. And triggered the problem. Orange paint rained onto his helm and pauldrons. From inside Knockout gasped, then clamped hands over his mouth to block his snort of laughter. The grey warrior's optics shuttered before any could interfere, but as it continued to drip he was forced to wipe some away. In the process of searching for perpetrators, the mech caught sight of three little sets of optics wider than he personally thought possible gleaming from the grates. A frown began to form and a growl percolated from his vocalizer. His fists clenched. A klik later and his sword unsheathed.
Catscratch and Tag-Along shared sideways glances of borderline horror. Then they ducked and fled.
"Well," Knockout managed in as nonchalant a voice as he could, "he did try to warn us...'
"This is exactly why Ah said this was a radge idea!"
She further huddled in the grate, coiling her tail up against her side. Half of her wanted to life at the picture of the Grey King dripped in orange. The other half wanted to scream and hide in terror at the image of the fury on his scarred faceplates. Finding a balance wasn't easy, but she managed through snickering every so often. Oh, if only that silly flying bug-reptile from the Isles had been there to witness the prank on the imposing Grey King, no matter if it was unintended. That had been pure gold!
"He's nae gonna off us for that," she argued. "We did warm him we're good at tricks."
Ramhorn glowered.
Her paw went to her chest, "How little you think of my saccharine powers. There's a gulf between what happened at the mines and a simple bucket prank."
"Ah realize that," Ramhorn argued. "Taggy realizes that. The medic probably realizes that. Question is if the Grey King realizes that."
She snorted, "One word, curly fries: Skywarp."
Ramhorn glowered further.
Movement came from beyond the grate, out in the hallway. Heavy thuds came towards them, and the smell of residual paint fumes wafted towards them. Taggy, nearest the grate's exit into the hall, tensed and lowered as far as he could go, in the end backing away to huddle at her side. Two red orbs shone into the grate, but the face was not the scarred battlefield of the Grey King. It was smoother, pristine, and much narrower, and the fury she expected was minor in comparison to the amused annoyance on the smirking lip-plates.
"Guys," Knockout said. "We need to have a little chat."
Author's Note: XD