Nature of the Beast One-Shot Series: Chronicles of the A'almvi
One Shot: Induction Rite
I'm on top of the world right now. So have some a'almvi shenanigans – on Earth this time! Let's see how the newest a'almvus does, shall we? ;) Also, credit to AuroraLion on DA for an old 2015 journal she had that inspired one of these pranks.
"C'mon, c'mon!"
"Where are we even going?"
"Out of earshot."
Backdraft pulled Sideswipe in a far corner of the scrapyard and paused to listen. Once he was sure no one was within range, he folded down into vehicle mode and urged Sideswipe to do the same. He couldn't afford anyone overhearing. His whole plan would get shot down if the wrong person overheard.
"Okay, so," he started, whispering, "I know the boss said you were one of us now, but – not just yet. We've got a bit of a tradition back home, y'see. You're not fully considered one of us until you've done what we call a joke night. It's like a test drive; show the boss what you can do, y'know? I know this isn't Altihex or Iacon, but c'mon. Crown City could do with a joke night, yeah? Wouldn't hurt 'em."
Sideswipe nearly squealed at the chance. An induction rite where all you had to do was go bonkers with pranks?
"...I'm so on board with this," he admitted eagerly. "But, I mean, won't we get in trouble for it?"
"You're only trouble if you get caught." He could literally hear Backdraft's mischievous smirk.
They both giggled. Unfortunately, they must have been a little too loud because Strongarm came in bearing a suspicious look on her face.
"What are you two doing back here?" she demanded.
"Nothing!" they chirped cheerfully.
Strongarm, unconvinced, folded her arms over her chassis and glowered.
"Come on," drawled Backdraft. "You really think laughing is suspicious for two a'almvi? Wow, lady."
After another minute of glowering distrustfully at them, the cadet must have concluded they weren't worth the hassle. She gave one last glare at them before backing off.
Backdraft decided, in turn, that she was going to be a problem. They couldn't very well have a joke night if Strongarm waylaid them at the gate. They were going to need a way to get her and every other party-pooper off their fenders long enough for them to get out of the scrapyard unopposed. Strongarm was too sharp for a simple lie to work, and honestly, outright lying to her felt insulting. She deserved a diversion with a little more thought and creativity put into it.
A beep – a digital, jingling bell – occurred on his scanner. Then, "Maiow!"
Tumbler trotted over and sat down in front of them. In answer to her big, expectant eyes, Backdraft transformed and gave her a few strokes on her head.
"I have an idea," grinned Sideswipe.
Backdraft glanced back at him, amber optics a-blaze and a smile on his face.
The two shared a hushed but energetic conversation. When done, Backdraft jumped the wall so Sideswipe could transformed and pass him the little calico. Then he jumped the wall, too. The two crept, hunched over, a few hundred yards away from the scrapyard. Tumbler, of course, had no idea what was happening but was nonetheless quite happy to suddenly be the center of attention. If only the cat knew just how much of an attention center she was really about to be.
"We're gonna get so busted for this," Sideswipe snickered.
Backdraft cackled agreement, "So busted."
Tumbler was put down and Sideswipe went to work. He knew the little "digital bell" Windstorm had put was specially coded to denote Tumbler; that way, they could always know where she was. But after a little hacking he found it was possible to change the bell to denote something else – something that would be a lot more attention grabbing. With everyone on edge lately, they'd come running to check it out like the whole freaking forest was on fire.
"Cool idea, dude," he applauded.
"Hey, if you wanna get cops off your fender, give them something else to chase," winked Sideswipe.
His Altihexian cohort laughed, "Right on!"
Backdraft and Sideswipe shared a high five.
"C'mon, let's get back. Quick! We can't let them catch us! It'll give the game away!"
Backdraft turned and sprinted for the scrapyard. Sideswipe gave Tumbler one final pet before bailing. Or, at least, he tried to bail. Tumbler, apparently offended at her attention givers suddenly leaving, mewled and trotted after him.
"No, no, no! Tumbler, stay! Kitty, stay!" he urged.
"Maiow!"
"Stay and I'll make sure you get some nice fish treats!"
Tumbler gave one of her slow blinks before simply collapsing onto her side and rolling around on the grass. Sideswipe couldn't tell if she was having the cat equivalent of a temper-tantrum or if she was dramatically telling him "Ugh. Fiiine. But you super owe me." Whichever it really was, the red youth thanked her for cooperating and bolted. Upon arrival back at the salvage yard, Backdraft caught him and warned they had about another minute before the next pulse went out, which meant a minute before their ruse was discovered.
"Just act normal, 'kay?" the two-wheeler urged him.
"Wait, normal as in normal-normal or normal as in we pretend-we-don't-know-what's-up normal?"
"Second one."
"Cool. Just checking."
Peace and quiet was a rare thing lately. Maybe that was why Fix-It was so deeply suspicious of it now. Quiet and calm always seemed to presage trouble. The "calm before the storm" as the humans phrased it. Except, there was no storm he could detect.
"Am I paranoid?" he demanded randomly of the nearby Prime. "I feel like I'm becoming a paranoiac."
Optimus looked over, confused. His question quickly caused him to also survey his surroundings, looking for whatever might have prompted it. He, too, found nothing. But his expression remained enviably calm. There was even, dare he say, a twinkle of humor in his old blue optics.
"Paranoia is not the same as skepticism, Fix-It. During times of conflict, it can become easy to see any lapse in activity as a trap waiting to be sprung."
The little mini-con was forced to admit the truth of his words – well-spoken words at that. Although it was only natural, he supposed, that a former archivist would have skill in rhetoric, too. While mulling over that correlation, Fix-It briefly glanced down as another scanning pulse swept out. He was about to heave a sigh of relief when the Alchemor's alarm triggered. The ship had found something nearby the west wall: a prisoner beacon. Another manual scan pinned a name to the beacon: Steeljaw. Or, more accurately, Hellhound, Steeljaw's tainted, twisted alter ego.
Fix-It nearly shrieked. "Corrupticon! Corrupticon at the west wall!"
As Fix-It ducked under the command center and Russell and Denny ducked indoors, Counterforce bolted past. Everyone else made a mad dash after him.
Counterforce drew his blades just before leaping into the clearing. And then he stopped dead in his tracks so fast that Strongarm, Grimlock, and then Bumblebee collided into him, knocking the poor Praxian to the ground. When the stars cleared from his optics, he stared. The clearing was indeed occupied, but not by an escapee and certainly not by a Corrupticon. Instead...it was –
"Tumbler?" gasped Grimlock. "I don't – what?"
"Maaaaiow!" the little calico greeted.
Bumblebee stared. Frankly, so did everyone else.
"Why is Tumbler emitting a prisoner identification beacon?" Windblade demanded flatly.
Strongarm knelt and plucked the cat up. Upon checking her prosthetic leg, she discovered what was really going on. Someone, she said, had tampered with the cat's locator beacon to make it mirror an escapee's beacon.
[Who? Why?] Fix-It demanded over the line.
"...Guys...?" Charity asked slowly as she looked around. "Where're Backdraft and Sideswipe?"
There was a few seconds pause as the dots connected in everyone's heads. When those dots connected with Strongarm, she howled: "SIDESWIPE!" Bumblebee and Smokescreen, on the other hand, let out ringing peals of laughter while the normally stoic, quiet Optimus had to hide his smile behind his hand. The old Prime had seen many a diversionary tactic played over the centuries, but this one was certainly one of the most brazenly audacious he had seen in a long time.
"Little punks!" snarled Strongarm. "I knew they were up to something! Sideswipe, Backdraft, get back here this instant!"
Her only answer was wild, cackling hilarity.
[Suckers!] taunted Sideswipe.
Strongarm let out a low growl that would have made any self-respecting bear whimper and retreat.
"You two are in so much trouble when you get back!" she snapped.
To which the trouble-makers responded with yet more laughter.
"Okay, no, no. Come on. We gotta give 'em this one. That was amazing!" crowed Grimlock.
"Kudos to them!" agreed Smokescreen laughingly.
"No kudos!" retorted Strongarm. "Don't encourage them!"
Chuckling, Bumblebee put a hand on the exasperated, fed-up cadet. "Strongarm, relax. They aren't gonna cause any damage to the city. I've heard about these joke nights. It's just a bunch of harmless pranks. And if you're worried about the cops catching them, don't be. The whole point is to not get caught."
"And if they do get caught?" she argued back. "Because you know they will be."
"Then they can stay in the police impound yard until tomorrow night," suggested Counterforce amiably. "If they cause too much trouble, that'll be their punishment. No rescue until they've served some time."
Strongarm capitulated. She only worried they would cause trouble while impounded; Backdraft's newfound flame powers added another, much more dangerous crinkle to her worry. According to humans – and basic logic – one was never to play with fire for fear of being burned. She hoped Backdraft understood that.
Upon reaching downtown, the two drove until they reached a darkened inter-city park. No one was in it, so far as Backdraft could see, so he judged it a good place to put his kickstand down. Noting a scattering of other human drivers, he wisely didn't turn off the holo-disguise in his saddle, and good thing, too. Within a minute a cop car drove past them, and the man in the driver's seat met the faceless holo-disguise's tinted visor. The cop didn't look suspicious of him, but he could see some possible distrust. So he had his fancy fake driver cheerfully wave. The cop waved back and went on his way.
"See? Not so hard to throw 'em off without deceptions," the Altihexian ribbed.
"You think he's gonna follow us?" his joke partner asked.
He made his driver shrug. "We aren't suspicious or causing problems so not sure why he would."
"Causing problems yet."
Backdraft snickered. "Let's get to it then. Prank scouting, ho!"
The two peeled away from the park and began their hunt.
Their first target: a big, fancy fountain in a small sculpture garden near a bunch of towering office buildings. Sideswipe didn't quite get why it was the target until Backdraft transformed and pulled a large canister of soap out of his saddlebags. After ensuring no one was around to spot him, the two-wheeler crept for the fountain.
"Uh...what?"
"Bro, watch," he grinned.
The entire canister was thusly dumped into the fountain. Within a few minutes, the water began to froth. By minute five, the whole fountain was spewing bubbles so prolifically they were flowing over the sides.
"I give to you: bubble vandalism," Backdraft bowed. "The floofiest and best kind of vandalism!"
Sideswipe cracked up. "Seriously?"
"Seriously!" he laughed back. "It's a whole thing with Skylark. There's a reason they know her as 'the Bubble Vandal' in her home city, Vos. She'll put glitter and color in the mix too."
"Then we, too, shall be: bubble vandals!" declared Sideswipe grandly. "Uh...I don't have any soap..." he quickly realized.
Backdraft tossed him a few additional canisters he'd been carrying before transforming and joining him on the road again. Sideswipe did not question why he casually carried around six huge containers of soap suds. He just wrote it off as an a'almvus thing. He probably had a whole slew of prank materials stored away in his sub-space that no one else knew he had. Because why not, right? Pranksters had to be ready when opportunity came knocking.
"We've only got enough for the biggest fountains," the two-wheeler warned, "so let's hit those!"
And so, giggling riotously, they split up to do exactly that. In the wee hours of the morning, there were barely any people out to spot their mischievous work.
They reconvened outside a strip mall, still giggling. Upon hacking into the police radio frequency, their giggling turned to wild laughter as baffled cops began calling in their prank. They weren't worried about it hurting anyone directly, but the cops agreed to cordon off one fountain at a roundabout to make sure no unfortunate drivers skidded on the escaping suds.
"Alright," chirped Backdraft. "Now it's your turn! Show me whatcha got! Just remember the rules: no mean or damaging pranks, yeah?"
Sideswipe glanced around. Unable to find any inspiration at their current location, he pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the city's main roads. His idea came after spotting a glowing neon sign near a highway – one of those big ones that the city used to declare things like "Wear Your Seat-belt" and stuff like that – that read in all caps: "Exit Darling St. to be closed Sat" before it flashed to continue the message "Use Pollock Exit." After checking that the same traffic warning was on various city traffic maps, Sideswipe hacked the sign and went to work. The wording was quickly changed to something absurd: "Hippity hoppity, this road is my property" while the second message wound up as "Meep meep mfers! ;D"
That got a laugh out of Backdraft. "Wow! You're not subtle!"
"Subtle can kiss my exhaust port," he crowed.
"Were you this much trouble in Iacon?" he guessed slyly.
Sideswipe cackled. "Let me just say there is a reason Strongarm doesn't like me, and it started in Iacon."
"Oo-hoho," chortled the Altihexian. "So you've got some history."
"If by 'history' you mean 'extensive rap sheet' then yeah, pretty much."
He wound up editing two other signs. One, a standard "Click It or Ticket" warning wound up as "Bleep Bloop OvO" while another became "Hey, hey, you! Sike! Made ya look!"
They found another covert place to hunker down. Two cops called in the sign prank, and it seemed one of them had a brain in his skull because he asked a buddy if she thought the fountain vandals were possibly behind this prank too. She admitted it was possible if there was one more than one prankster. A solo prankster couldn't have covered the fountains so quickly.
"Uh-oh, they're gettin' wise," snickered Backdraft. "We might need to split for this next one."
"Last one to get his prank called in loses!" challenged Sideswipe.
"You're on!"
Sideswipe decided to be even pettier for his next one. He chose a few blocks in downtown, singled out all the traffic lights, and messed with the timing so they looked like blinking Christmas lights. With so few drivers out, it wouldn't really cause any harm. Plus, it was easily visible and would confuse the heck out of the cops. He then went looking for another prank opportunity, and found it in a rather unusual – and, honestly, bold – place to pull one: right outside a law office. The sign was what attracted him. Big neon letters said the place was called "Lewis and Olson Law Group". But once Sideswipe was done with the sign, it read "LOL".
Snickering, he went in search of Backdraft. With so many cops on the lookout, they had to drive off a side road into the bushes to reconvene. Mysteriously, his partner in crime had a few new licks of paint on him that indicated he'd maybe done something "artsy" for his prank.
"We're really pushing our luck here," cackled the Altihexian. "Let's see who gets called first."
"Who the heck is doing this?!" one cop demanded, exasperated. "Guys, someone messed with a neon sign at Loftland and Kirkwood. Switched all the letters off save three."
Sideswipe giggled. "I win!"
"Simple but effective," Backdraft critiqued cheerfully. "I dig it."
"What did you do for yours?" he asked curiously. He was kind of surprised a simple one like his had been called first.
Backdraft snickered. "You'll see. They'll find it."
"Do you think we should bail now or nah?"
"Nah, dude. Let's try for one more round. I've got some paint left. Show me your street art skills, how 'bout?"
"Alright." Finally, someone who could appreciate his art. Sunny was always such a freaking downer about it, calling it unrefined and "plebeian" (whatever that meant).
Backdraft handed him a few spray canisters. Backdraft activated his holo-driver and split off to do his own final trick. Sideswipe found a good billboard on the other side of downtown and got to work modifying it. The end result turned the pretty generic stock image of a grinning man into something that he found much funnier. A goofy mustache, a uni-brow, a top hat, and crossed eyes. He planned to stay there and admire it for a klik or two, but then he heard sirens close by and decided to bail. One of the cops must have spotted his retreat because radio chatter lit up telling of his location.
"Scrap, scrap, scrap!" he cursed as he drove like mad.
Something strange happened then. A wildly colorful car decked out with glowing rims, majestic unicorns painted on the side doors, and bright blue headlights shot past him into the intersection, pulled an impressive half spin, honked loudly, and sped off. Sideswipe, grateful for the distraction, sped off in the opposite direction and ducked into a side street parking garage to watch the cops speed past below. The cops were convinced the new car was one of the pranksters but Sideswipe had no idea who it was.
Things got stranger still when he eavesdropped on the cops' radio chatter. The fancy car they'd chased had just...disappeared. It had turned a corner and somehow vanished without a trace. Even the skid marks it had left on the road cut off after turning the corner. Sideswipe was as dumbstruck as the cops, not that he wasn't grateful for the weirdness. The cops seemed to have lost track of him in the process of chasing down the flashier car. Two of them drove straight by his hiding place without stopping, though a third drove by slower and had him nervously halting his fans.
*Bro, you good? I heard sirens.*
"Yeah, I'm good," he answered, a bit breathless. "Primus, that was close. I nearly got nabbed, dude."
*Probably a sign we should pack it up for the night. Can't do many pranks in the impound yard, y'know.*
"I dunno. I can think of a couple," he snickered.
*How dare you, sir!* his partner in crime gasped with false outrage through a false British accent. *Tempting me to purposefully get caught! For shame!*
They both giggled. Backdraft's falsetto accents were maybe one of the funniest things he could do.
*Seriously though, we should probably get back before we stir up these watt-wasps any more.*
They waited for an hour or so for the cops to let their guard back down enough that they weren't patrolling so rigorously. Then they quietly, and carefully, snuck back to the salvage yard just as the sky started to shift from black to grey. Tumbler was waiting for them atop the wall nearest the gate and gave them a pleasant mewl of greeting. Though to Sideswipe in particular she cast a look that silently demanded "Well?" Sideswipe knew exactly what she was asking, and rather apologetically told her his hands were a little too big to open the baggie of treats Fix-It stashed near the Alchemor. Once the humans or Fix-It were up, he'd get them to help.
Tumbler seemed to understand. One ear flicked and she trotted away.
With the feline momentarily appeased, the two a'almvi headed off to a quiet corner to enjoy a little celebratory cetver'ko.
"Cheers, newbie," smirked Backdraft.
"Here's to a lot more jokes," agreed Sideswipe.
Backdraft and Sideswipe went back into the commons two hours later to find Denny – and the rest of the salvage yard – clustered around the TV. The subject: local news. Backdraft thought briefly that meant they had found some evidence of another convict making a mess somewhere in the city. But when Strongarm cast him one of her trademark "mega displeased" looks, he knew it wasn't that. It was about them.
"You two were busy," she noted dryly.
Sideswipe smirked. "Good morning to you, too, Sergent Sourpuss."
Strongarm's frown deepened as Russell bit back a giggle.
Sideswipe leaned in to get a better look at the screen.
"...found itself subject last night to a slurry of practical jokes that led local police on a mad dash through the city. Not even the mayor's house was left untouched. Take a look at this," the lady reporter smiled.
The newscast cut from the newsroom to someone's video of a nice two-story house. The back of the building had a pretty spectacular (and very goofy) graffiti face painted onto it in such a way that the door was a mouth and the two upper windows were eyes.
Sideswipe took it in for about one second before howling in laughter.
"Though officers were unable to apprehend any of the three suspects, they attest that no one was harmed and that removing the graffiti, while tedious, is possible."
"Wait...three suspects?" repeated Bumblebee. "I thought it was just you two."
Backdraft cocked his helm to one side. "So did I. What's she talking about?"
Sideswipe told them about the bombastic disappearing car. He was thankful for the car showing up when it had, but also pretty weirded out over the fact it could disappear so thoroughly it was like it had never existed. And he knew it existed because he'd seen it! So had the cops! A car that stupidly flashy wasn't supposed to be able to go "poof" like that!
"Do you think it was another convict who maybe didn't know you were a good guy?" asked Grimlock. "Like they helped you out on accident?"
"That was no convict, Grimlock," the Prime clarified through a knowing smile. "You must have made quite the impression, Sideswipe."
"Dude, no way," gasped Backdraft. "He got involved?! Bro, that makes it official! You're one of us now!"
Sideswipe, delighted, grinned from audial to audial.
:D