A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl for their faves/alerts~ C:
Hot Rod's Girl: Jazz is very persistent, ain't he? Lucky, lucky Prowl. XDD
Thank you very much, darling~ :D Your reviews always make me smile.
PrancingTiger86: Heeee, sophisticated dictionaries are so much love. Especially those, big thick ones. Very practical for humour and to bash people over the head with~ C:
Thank you so very much and good luck to you too! I'd like to quote my fave anon writer off the District 9 4chan meme – 'FOOK. BRB, WRITING LIKE A MOTHERFOOKER'. XDD
Deadlineistoday, ohPrimussss.
Here's something more silly and lighthearted. Excuse the rusty action scene...I need more practice where those are concerned.
And because I needed to stick in Soundwave and his cassetticons somewhere. I adore that dysfunctional family, seriously, with the single monotone father...XDD
On another note, keep a lookout for another small collection accompanying this fic which will contain the 'outtakes' – that follow on the scenes inspired by the prompts, but didn't fit in because of the world limit. Crack (and slash) guaranteed. XDD I'll post them as soon as I finished the challenge – wish me luuuuuck!
I hope you enjoy~
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Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs.
Universe:
G1
Warnings: Implied slash, moar…ridiculousness…?
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4.
Pumpkins
"I told you this wasn't a good idea!"
"Right! And you couldn't mention that small little precognitive detail before we actually went and did it?!"
"…what does 'precognitive' mean?"
"Arrrghhhh!"
"…no, I don't know what that means either."
"Stop being a smartaft!"
Sighing, Ravage lifted her head and delivered a well-aimed whack across the helms of the bickering bits with the end of her tale, accompanied by a glare.
:Would you two shut your obnoxious vocalizers for half a click?:
Yelping, Frenzy rubbed his sore helm with a pout, aiming a corresponding glare of his own at the feline cassette.
"Well, it's true, ain't it not?" he demanded sulkily. "If he knew this was going to turn out the way it did, he should have-"
Sighing, Ravage picked herself up from the ground and settled closer to the others, resting her head on her paws, sending small soothing pulses of understanding through their shared bonds.
:Yes, yes, I do realize. No use wailing about it now. Just keep quiet until they decide to contact Soundwave.:
"Hoooo-boy. Boss-bot's gonna be pissed."
:Yes. Now shush, you'll wake up Ratbag. Again.:
"Well, at least then we'll get to see the
:Now, Rumble, or you'll find yourself with a mouthful of limbs that belong to you.:
"…Ravage?"
:…what?:
"Can you do that mission-recounting thing now, so we don't have to bother with it when we get back on base?"
:…you want to recount on how the mission went…? Alright, how about this?:
-
:Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!:
Red Alert's emergency warning shrieked through each mech's commline simultaneously, the effect immediate. Weapons were loaded, attentions snapped, footsteps thundered down the corridors of the Ark as the alerted hurried towards the co-ordinates that pin-pointed the location of the intruder.
"It's coming from inside the Ark." Prowl confirmed quietly, flattening against the wall as he waited for Bluestreak and Ironhide to catch up with him, frowning after a few seconds.
"Hey, isn't that the storage room right next to the rec-room?" Bluestreak broke the silence in a whisper, fiddling with his weapon restlessly. "Where Spike and Jazz are storing all the things for the party next week?"
"That's…strange." The Datsun murmured, double checking the co-ordinates and finding the results to be the same. Perhaps Red Alert really has fritzed a few more circuits this time – could have something to do with the fact he only seemed to have recharged once this week…
:Heads up, Prowl!:
The tactician was snapped out of his musings by the sudden crackle of his commline, a flustered Blaster on the other side.
:Sightings on one of them! Target identified as Ravage is heading your way!:
"Acknowledged.: He replied calmly, raising his rifle as the sleek, running figure of the Decepticon feline came charging down the hallway.
However – much to their surprise – Ravage swept past the trio, completely ignoring the armed mechs, and burst into the storage room, snarling in an agitated manner.
Raising an eyebrow, Prowl followed her into the storage compartment – and stopped dead in the doorway.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ironhide tackle Ravage and pin the snarling casseticon to the ground – as well as sense Bluestreak on his left.
He was the one who ultimately broke the silence too.
"Primus, that's…unexpected…ly stupid…ly creative…ly disturbing…ly cute."
-
For once, he would have to credit the youngling for putting the sight into words perfectly.
"Yer joking."
At the shake of his head, Jazz allowed himself to let the laugh he'd been holding in ever since his bondmate walked in with an armful of a…pumpkinful of very familiar Decepticons loose, arms wrapping around his softly shaking figure.
"I'm glad you're finding this so amusing." Prowl remarked in a dry tone, glancing down at the temporarily knocked out Rumble, Frenzy and Ratbag, curled up inside the hollow pumpkin, no doubt prepared by Spike a few nights before. "Red Alert is going to have a field day over this – and so is Spike and the rest of the younglings if pumpkins are put on the list of contraband items."
"I know, but…oh, Primus." Jazz chuckled, straightening up and stepping closer to the tactician, poking Ratbag's helm gently. "S'got t'be the most creative an' stupid way the 'Cons have tried to sabotage us by far."
"Agreed."
"…s'very fitting to the season, though. Sneakin' in, disguised as a pumpkin…"
"They were hiding in the pumpkin."
"Split hairs, would ya."
"Mmm."
"They got knocked out quite easily, won't ya say?"
"Indeed. Fatigue, perhaps. Or the mild processor wiping."
"Ouch. Ratch in a bad mood?"
"Perhaps. I don't think he has it in him so much to torture casseticons though. Not too much, anyways."
"Heh. Awh, look, he's snorin'. Bless his lil' spark."
"…Jazz, you do realize you're talking about one of the most cursed and sly Decepticon spies in current existence?"
"Dun mean he can't be cute, Prowler."
"…"
"What, y'jelaous?"
"…where did you get that assumption from?"
"Yer characteristic silence and expression."
"I am not jealous of a knocked out Decepticon spylet…in a pumpkin."
"…you'd look much cuter in a pumpkin, anyhow."
"…I doubt I could fit in one."
"Heh. True."
A companionable silence filled the room, broken by the soft snores of the casseticons and the distant shouting from Prime's office.
"Unless we get Wheeljack t'grow an' mutate one to the right size…"
"Alright, Jazz. You stop thinking now."
"That's not an order I get everyday-"
"NOW."
Comments/Reviews/Prompts are still loved and valued.
Up Next (unless Musies have anything to say…): Trick.