First set of 2015. Jeez, does the time fly - this show's been over for a long while now (and when you think about the fact that I started writing these long before the show had even ended...).


Transformers Prime: 100 Written Prompts Challenge
From war to peace, and everything in-between.

Prompts 16-20:

SPACE
Jack was a teenager, and what Arcee could comprehend from this was that mood swings, a hint of unspoken rebelliousness, and sudden hormonal urges were all normal for a human his age. She understood he needed his own space. Of course, none of this meant she was any more lenient when he decided to throw his lunch at the vehicle that had tried to cut them off.

"Jack."

"He was driving on the wrong side of the road and didn't have his indicator on."

"Jack."

"He was one of Vince's friends."

"Jack."

"I hate salads."

Arcee adjusted her rear view mirrors, watching as the vehicle pulled in behind them. There wasn't any driver. "Jack, I'm restricting your driving privileges for the next two weeks."

BLURRY
Bumblebee knew he'd been more or less raised by Optimus and the others. He hadn't seen the golden age, and he remembered very little of the early stages of the war. What he could remember from those times had mulled and fused together, and the only blurry memories that came to mind were of seeking shelter and scavenging for energon. Eventually someone found him – thankfully an Autobot, for Bumblebee now understood what may have happened had it been a Decepticon that had stumbled upon him – and his training as a scout had practically begun.

And things happened. Faces and people he remembered had disappeared as time went on, and even now, he didn't know the whereabouts of some of the friends he could've called his mentors. On Earth, Arcee had helped to hone his abilities as a scout, helping him to learn a few extra tricks to keep on edge on the battlefield. Bulkhead had taught him how to have fun, and also taught him a thing or two about watching his back. And Optimus and Ratchet had been there for him for as long as he could remember.

And so when Rafael spoke on the subject of family, Bumblebee understood the concept immediately.

NIGHT
At one point in time, Starscream had had the ambition to travel to every star in the universe. Every planet was fair game, and his desire to reach them knew no bounds. He dreamt it, sometimes waking with the thoughts of stardust on his glossa. He swore he could almost taste it. Starscream wanted to see every world for what it was, its strengths and weaknesses, perfections and defects. He wanted to find the life that the Academies so often scoffed of not existing, and in his idealistic mind, prove them wrong. Perhaps, he thought now, the notion of escaping Cybertron's oppressive restraints seemed too good to be true.

The night skies here showed all the same stars, and he could still map them as easily as he did back then. Some had changed; celestial coordinates shifted or simply disappeared; only now he wasn't gazing at them from the comfort of a balcony ledge. Now, he was staring up at them from under the ledge of a broken under hanging of an enormous boulder, escaping the frozen rain that poured down.

In a move of twisted irony, Starscream had gotten his wish. Here he was, far off on another planet, far from Cybertron and its past trivialities. He'd found other life; the fleshlings that plagued this mudball's beauty – and the planet had little to begin with. Now, now all he wanted was to go home.

INTRIGUE
Even though he knew Knock Out would kill him for having such thoughts, Breakdown had to admit: the spider intrigued him. He wanted to know how she worked, what made her tick. How a femme her size could almost match his strength. How those spiny little extra legs of hers could tear through almost any armour. There was something about her that kept him coming back for more, even when he knew he shouldn't.

It was a dangerous game. The little smirks she would send his way now and then, turning to absolute devilry and rage the next. Knock Out warned him countless times to stay away, and while he tried to listen, wanted to listen, something wouldn't let him. It all came back down to the spider.

Soon enough, Breakdown learned just what those legs could really pierce through.

DISADVANTAGE
Ultra Magnus knew he was at a disadvantage when it came to the dominate species of their newfound home. Humans were strange creatures, their cultural norms sometimes so backwards and inefficient that he wondered how their societies ever made progress. The language these humans spoke was vexing, sometimes irritating his vocalizer with its harsh syllables – not to mention the troubles of pronunciation as a whole.

Yet the others seemed to do just fine, integrating easily in the affairs of their smaller allies. They had little to no trouble assimilating themselves into the world of their hosts, and he quietly couldn't understand how they had done so in such a short period of time. Six months for him alone, and basic conversations between the children still left him puzzled every now and again. Of course, the others had spent much more time around the humans than he had – years more to be precise, and as the war was finally drawing to its inevitable end, they had an edge he would never be able to possess.

Henceforth, Ultra Magnus kept his dealings with them to an absolute minimum, only conversing with them when questioned or utterly necessary. He much preferred the company and intellect of fellow Cybertronians.

He just wished he knew what a kilt was.


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