Azure Blue
The sea breeze was nice, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment in order to enjoy it. After all the excitement of the wedding, it was nice to just sit quietly be herself, the sound of the celebrations continuing at a safe distance, Tlalakans, Autobots, humans, and Nebulans alike.
She had taken a moment to excuse herself following which she suspected was an attempt to hit on her from a very drunk Ginrai, and watching Powerglide and Astoria dancing together had proved to be just too much.
It was hard, she thought, sighing heavily, her head in her hands, not to get bitter about such things.
At her feet, the waves washed in, crashing against the immaculate white sand. All she needed to do was wade out deeper into the ocean and transform, and she could be away from the whole affair, sailing the oceans of Tlalakan. Yet this was her brother's wedding, and, as such, Seasquirt knew it would be unkind to depart without saying her farewells.
Again, she sighed, the water warm against her feet. What was it about happy occasions that made her so sad? Was it just that she was young, was it just that the only people she ever met were agitated soldiers and Decepticons intent on turning her into scrap? Not a great amount of choice by anyone's standards.
She had considered heading down to the old tree by the well to ask for advice, the one her fellow Autobots seemed to keep clear of despite its significance to the Tlalakan people. If it was in a good mood, the tree would sometimes answer questions, offer advice, yet if it was in a bad mood, it could be unpredictable, cruel even in its retorts, and she didn't feel emotionally stable enough to deal with any more cruelty.
They said the tree used to be a Decepticon, back in the day, but it had been horrifically transmuted into organic matter when trying to use the magic of the sacred spring. Over the years, its presence had become a significant part of the ritual and rite of the world's culture, so she was told.
She kicked at the waves, water splashing against her legs, the sand disturbed, a tiny crustacean, something like a crab with frog legs skittering out further into the shallow water to escape any future unpredictable gestures on her behalf.
She felt the tension mounting in her, the impulse and the anxiety, and before she could think, she had stood up, launching herself forward, charging into the waves, disturbing more than the crab-frogs and the shells.
The further she waded, the higher the water rose, the greater the distance from the music of the reception, and she felt her heart sing, limbs shifting, body changing, as, at last, her entire form transformed.
At her aft, her engines roared into life, her form a glistening silver knife cutting through the waves, adorned with decorations of blue and yellow.
It was important to celebrate the joy of others, she told herself, but not at the expense of your own happiness.
Beneath the underside of her hull, the water was warm and pleasant, upon her deck, she felt the sea breeze, and whilst she did not begrudge her brother and his new bride their happiness, in that moment, youthful and free, Seasquirt could not imagine any greater joy than the liberty of the vast and open seas.
