Summary:
Jazz was separated from the Autobot's, stranded on a planet known as Earth with no means of communication or knowledge of the creatures who inhabit it. When along comes a human who teaches the saboteur the art of humanity. G1-and others, T for Swearing.
A/N
first of all of like to thank my best friends Taylor and Fadey m for editing this chapter for me. I wanted to have something different from normal fanfictions. I've grown tired of female OC'S falling in love with every transformer A-Z so I created something different. I will update every Saturday unless I'm unable and will answer any and all question reviews either within the next chapter or personally. This was a plot bunny and I'm not sure how far it will go, I hope all you Transfans like this Fanfic. Support and criticism is GREATLY appreciated! Please review!
Disclaimer:
No, own transformers I do not, but I do own my OC Cameron and the plot!
Chapter one: That car.
Cameron Scott typed on his keyboard with careen movements, a pace only some humans could achieve while typing, his jade green eyes were glued to the computer screen, unblinking, the only movement consisted of his fingers, and the intentional flick of his messy brown hair.
His hand darted up to fix the headset that had decided to almost fall behind his head, with a growl, Cameron returned his hand to its pervious place, his eyes narrowed as he continued to release killing blows upon the boss on his computer.
"Stupid bitch! I had you down halfway! How the fuck did you get full Heath?"
Cameron pushed himself away from the computer allowing the massive elite boss to destroy his character, he was annoyed: peeved. He had worked so hard to get his Druid where he was, he had spent hours advertising his raid attempts in Stormwind, hours of picking up nameless Ally's and losing some as well, JUST to be thrown into another failure.
With an audible grunt, Cameron left the raid group, tossed his headset away and mounted his gryphon, intended to retreat back to Azeroths main alliance city to wait for his Guild master to come online: after all, tonight was Raid night.
With a sigh, the brown haired boy stood from his well overused computer chair and sauntered his way to the kitchen, it was summer: he could stay up as late as he wanted without having his parents yell at him because he had school in two hours and he still happened to be in the same raid he joined five hours earlier.
He tugged on the refrigerator door and peered inside. Looking for anything remotely pleasing. Since he stayed up well past five AM every night, Cameron had found a need to feed his hunger Before starting a raid: most times he would forget to eat.
Actually, he usually never ate, World of warcraft and Call of Duty took up most his time, besides, chips and soda are always there, you don't have to cook them, prepare them, it's just a grab and go, perfect when you only have a five minuet break.
Cameron shut the refrigerator door and opened the freezer, taking out a microwaveable dinner while simoltanioisly glancing at the clock- Seven fifteen, his guild master would be online at eight, the raid would undoubtably start at eight thirty, giving the brown haired boy a total of seventy five minuets to slack off and get ready.
He carelessly tossed his microwaveable macaroni and cheese into the microwave and set it at 1:30. He reached up to scratch his head and cringed, when was the last time he had taken a shower? Four days ago? Maybe five? Grimacing, Cameron looked himself over.
He was still wearing his baggy sweat pants and a normal white Tee. The white tee shirt hardly looked white anymore: soda stains, some cheese doodle reminisce still lingered, his black sweatpants had more then five holes in them, put there by Cameron while bored: waiting for a dungeon group.
The microwave beeped, the sixteen year old boy proceeded, opening it up and grabbing the nearest fork, dirty or clean, he didn't stop to notice, he forked the macaroni into his mouth with record speed, and finished the whole meal within a minuet.
Tossing the plastic tray onto the table, Cameron licked the fork clean then set it inside the tray, he scurried off to his room, finally intending to take a shower.
After his quick five minuet shower, Cameron pulled on a new pair of call of duty sweat pants and a black Disturbed teeshirt and peeked over to his computer.
He had set so private messages, or 'Whispers' as it was called via W.O.W appeared in a separate window, the teenager squinted his eyes, cursing for having such bad eyesight upon seeing a blinking pink widow.
He hurried over, almost tripping over several random things that littered his floor.
'What's up Cam? It's raid night. Want 2 come over and play over here?'
Screen name 'Deadlyknîght' happened to be Cameron's in real life friend. Liam, he lived only a few blocks away, so with massive speed, Cameron typed a quick.
'Kk ill b there soon,'
And logged off. Cameron sprung around his room. Searching for his bike helmet, once found, he ran from his room, taking out his track phone to check the time. Seven thirty. Still enough time to get to Liam's without missing the raid.
Cameron took the steppes to the first floor two at a time as he launched himself to the bottom, his hand grazed against the handle, until a sweet, but wary voice popped up from behind him.
"And where are you going at seven thirty at night Cameron Fray Scott?"
Cameron gulped, his mother only ever used his middle name when he was in trouble, or something important was coming up, turning, Cameron faced his mother with an innocent yet rushed smile. If she kept him here for more than size minuets he Would miss the raid.
"I uh.. I'm going to Liam's..."
His mother crossed her scrawny hands over her breasts and locked her deep green eyes with his own.
"And you Wernt thinking of telling me?"
"I was going to... Call you when.. I got there, yeah" was Cameron's failing attempt at being confident, his mother sighed an approached, dropping her arms. She set her soft hands on her sons shoulder and smiled.
"Be safe Cammy, no talking to strangers"
Cameron grunted and swatted his mothers hand away.
"Mom, I'm not eight, I can take care of myself."
His mother looked saddened but it was gone as quickly as it arrived, to be honest, she was glad to finally have her son going out more often, his skin was beginning to pale horribly from living all summer cooped up in his room on the computer.
"Alright, stay safe!"
Cameron waved goodbye as he ran off into New Yorks desolate air.
His systems onlined, his processor scanning his surrounding before he even onlined his optics, the sleek silver mini bots CPU ran over his systems, triggering his battle computer on, he jolted up with a yell, his blasters blazing ahead his optic ridges slanted giving off a true creepy narrowed expression.
His optics shuttered online behind his blue visor as he took in the strange view before him, small, blades of green rose from the ground reaching up to the setting sun, he was in a field, how had he gotten here? And where exactly was he? He ran yet another scan of the area, his search showing he was on an organic planet called earth, tilting his head the minibot stood, stretching out his spinal struts taking in the oxygen filled air.
Only then was he aware that his pain receptor were off, briefly wondering why, the silver bot looked down, and grimaced at the scene that met his visor.
His chassis was littered with deep gashes, the plaiting on his left leg was completely torn, littered over his body were black scorch marks, what happened? Last thing he remembered...
He had been in Lacon, fighting against the Decepticons as they rendered the city into dust, he remembered being over run, going against his own processor from fear, taking an escape pod out of Cybertron, but that dosent make sense, how long had he been I. Stasis, where was the pod now?
With new, clean optics the minibot looked behind him, his movements quick, and sure enough a dark grey escape pod was a few feed away, a deep hole where his body had either been torn from, shot out of, or he crawled from it, but he couldn't remember, with sturdy fingers, the minibot touched his digits to his helm, activating his comm system.
:Jazz ta Optimus, do you read?:
Static.
"Slag"
:Jazz ta Optimus, come in!:
More static, Jazz put his hand to hi injured chassis and grunted, he needed a medic, but he wasnt sure if there was even a single cybertronian on this mud all. Setting his comm. systems setting to global, Jazz tried again.
:Jazz ta any Autobot's on earth, Ah'm injured an' ah need a medic:
And still, after five breems not one single voice responded, with a huff, Jazz stepped foreword.
"Fan-fraggin'-tastic"
Well, he could just stand there like a retro-deer in headlights or he could start moving. He decided on the second idea. He walked foreword, a few steppes.. One pede in front of the other... Slowly, testing his wounded foot. No pain came after the sixth step, venting in relief, the minibot continued his journey.
A joor later Jazz arived at some type of city structure. He noticed the organics of this planet were small, but not to be underestimated, they could have radioactive bile that could rip through his amour, or lazer optics that could blind his own, he stayed low. After all, he was commander of special ops for a reason.
The city intruged him, flashing lights that were risen above the city directing non-satient cars. When the lights were red, all the vehicals stopped, when they were yellow, the automobiles slowed. And when green they simply passed by it.
Jazz had no clue how long he crouched there, staring at the switching lights on top of one of the buildings. It wasn't like he had never seen anything like it before.
He glanced down upon hearing a cry for joy. An organic femme threw herself into the arms of an organic mech. Her optics were leaking as she held tight onto the mech before her, feeling as if intruding: Jazz moved further away from the front of the building and looked away.
Humans: as these organics were called were extremely primitive, he wanted to investigate there nature to new levels. They seemed to experience joy and fright, anger and sadness. He wanted a closer look at how there processors worked. They had small, fleshy helms witch without a doubt carried very little if not no information.
He needed to blend in, he also needed a safe place to go into recharge so his wounds could self-repair. But first. He needed an alt mode.
Jazz scanned the highway before him. His visor dimmed to ensure no fleshy organics could see the bright blue of his visor in the semi-darkness.
The red light signaled all vehicals to stop, he watched as a car caught his attention. Grinning, Jazz scanned the vehical fled from the building and transformed. He admired his new alt mode, and settled himself in the ally just below where he had once been.
Slowly shutting his systems down, Jazz fell into a much needed Recharge.
Cameron huffed as he continued down the sidewalk at a dangerous pace on his old mountain bike, it had taken him fifteen minuets to find his bike, he hasn't rode it in at least two years, It happened to be buried deep within his family's hoarding garage.
He had thirty minuts to get to Liam's house. Or be would miss the raid.
Cameron suppressed a shudder as he pushed his aching legs to new limits. He couldn't be late, he had promised his guild master, Druidtalent. That he would be on time, unlike last Friday where he just HAD to go to his uncles eightyth birthday part and got home at eight forty five. Druid had pulled some legs, and kicked a noob, regrettably, and gave him a spot and after three paragraphs of scolding, Cameron did not want a repeat.
Because of his thinking, the need boy hardly saw the light pole that somehow moved into his coarse until it was to late.
He screamed like a girl as the front wheel to his bike hit head on, flinging him out of his bike, his body rammed into the sidewalk beside the pole.
He rolled over groaning, his head ached as well as his feet now. Still, Liam's house was another ten minuets away.
That was the least of his problems, sitting up, he glanced around quickly, hoping to god that no one else had seen that, relived that indeed, no one was out and about, he attempted to stand.
Only to fall back on his rear because his ribs felt like they were cracking.
He debated wether or not he should call his mother, no. That wouldn't be a good idea. She would trap him inside the house, only allowing him out to go to the store, witch he never did, so he would never get out of the house.
Taking a deep, shaky breath Cameron stood, placing a hand onto the light pole, he looked over his bike. The front wheel was trashed. Bent, now he was defintly going to be late.
The pain in his ribs subdued, he lifted his black shirt up, yeah there'd be a bruise in the morning, but, he had to get to Liam's, at this point Cameron didn't care if he missed the raid, he just wanted to get out of the street before someone saw him.
Taking a few testing steps, Cameron made it to his now trashed bike, he picked it up and set it on its wheels, and began walking down the street, each step sending pain flaring through his stomach and ribs.
Twenty minuets later, Cameron stopped for a breath. He leaned his bike against a building and slid down beside it, taking his hacking hands through his hair. Could this day get any worse?
A blinking red light destracted him, he looked up at the stop lights, only to gasp and take a second look.
There, across the road, was the hottest car he had ever seen.
Eyes wide, mouth gaping, Cameron hoisted himself up with newfound strength and walked fast across the deserted road.
His eyes were nearly falling from there sockets as he gazed upon this beauty, this was downtown New York, what was a Bagatti Veyron doing at a crappy place like this?
He slid his hand over the sleek silver frame, he had always been a car junky, loved them just as much as loved video games.
In his own state of mind he ignored the pain in his chest, he ignored his raid -gasps- he could only focus on the Bugatti before him.
He circled the beauty, letting his pale hand drag across its frame, he peered into its tinted windows, the car was off, no alarm flared when he touched it, no one was inside.
Criminal thoughts entered his mind, but he brushed them away. Whoever owned this car undoubtedly owned enough money to track it.
He leaned close and basically petted the door, the car was vibrating, but, it wasnt on a minuet ago, what?
He flung back as the cars engine sputtered, only to die out a few seconds later, Cameron grinned.
"Fuck yeah! possessed car,"
He stepped foreword but tersely stopped when something squished under his sneaker.
Lifting his shoe up, he was suprised to see a glowing blue substance sticking the the bottom.
"This some kind of new gas?"
Cameron asked no one, he stepped back dragging the contaminated sneaker across the ground: attempting to rid it of this blue shit, and knelt down.
His shaggy brown hair fell to his eyes as he touched his finger to the blue substance, his scientist and nerdy side got the better of him. He dug around in his pockets, nearly sighing in relief when he found a ripped up sandwich bag, he must have stuck it inside his sweatpants pocket one day and completely forgotten it was there.
He stuffed a hand into the bag and took a handful of the glowing blue liquid. Quickly turning his hand out, the liquid was stuck inside. Afterwords. He rubbed whatever blue glow happened to remain on his hands and picked up his cellphone.
"Hello? Where are you Cam, raids started"
Cameron's breath hitched, didn't he have thirty minuets left? He looked back over at the car. How long had be been looking at it? No matter, he cleared his throat.
"Liam, I think I have something more interesting than a raid"
how was the first chapter? Review please!