Nature of the Beast

One-Shot: Third Time's the Charm

*Inspired by the art piece by Shy-Light called "Seeker Color Run"

Takes place after "Teleport Tag" Kind of a follow up to it :) Funny thing with A'almvi is that when you knock 'em down, they get right back up – and promptly return to their shenanigans.

*In my mind, Tigerian (the language of the Tigerhawks) is an odd mixture of Chinese and Spanish-sounding words, accents and grammar rules. I'll correct what I said about Avian: Avian sounds a bit like Latin for their formal language, but informal sounds almost German with a touch of Swahili and Dutch. Draconian, when translated anyway, is like Old English with a frequent use of kinings, or artful metaphors – like ocean being called "whale-road" in Beowulf for example.

Chicane stood before her chief in an understandably foul mood. Fastlane was not helping her mood any with his laid-back smile, obviously entertained by what he saw but at least had the decency not to laugh. Her frown deepened but she did not say a word; that would be against protocol. She would never understand Altihexians, and she would never in her life understand why her chief had transferred her here of all places. Oh, what she'd give for the organization of Praxus right now, or the familiarity of Iacon. This city was downright mad.

"You ever stop the think you're taking this job just a tad too seriously, Chicane?" he asked her calmly, leaning forward on his desk.

"Sir, with all due respect, I am not in the mood for jokes. This is the second time I've run into these delinquents in the past deca-cycle, and each time they've caused me no end of trouble. They've become bolder, sir. Graffiti the first time, and a dangerous game the second time that could've very well resulted in civilian injury. They themselves were mildly hurt come the conclusion of it. They were lucky a few dents was all they got from that collision, and they were lucky no civilians were hit when they were actively evading me."

"I thought they made it clear they were not evading you in your capacity as an officer." Fastlane reminded her. "They were playing a game of telv bzq with you. You're supposed to run from the player you tagged. It's in the rules."

The Iaconian femme's brow darkened. Fastlane picked up on it and his demeanor became more professional.

"Chicane, I know you were doing your job as a Chaser and a law officer but you don't need to worry about these two. They're harmless, I promise. Backdraft and Hijinks are both devout a'almvi, not lowlifes or crooks. The last thing on their minds is hurting anyone."

"Sir," she argued, "just because they follow the Shifter Prime's doctrine doesn't mean they're above the law. They evaded arrest, they sped in a crowded city center, and before this they defaced public property."

"And just because you're doing your job doesn't mean you get to pick on 'em for doin' theirs."

Chicane blinked. "Sir, their records show they are unemployed aside from temporary jobs such as sitting for busy Guardians. What –?"

Her chief asked her a strange question then.

"What's the task of a law officer, Chicane?"

Taken aback, she didn't answer right away. She thought it was a bit of a redundant question but she answered anyway:

"Protect the people."

He nodded. She still didn't quite understand why he'd asked that.

"A'almvi are the followers of the Shifter Prime Amalgamous, which you obviously are well aware of. Their 'job' is an important one even if it doesn't pay well: they exist to make others around them smile and laugh, to enjoy their lives and brighten their solar cycles. They are entertainers, comedians, and playful hooligans. Our own Councilor is an honorary a'almvus, though he hasn't officially taken the Oath. The worst you'll ever see them stoop to are bad puns or harmless tricks. You won't ever find them committing an actual offense. Guardians wouldn't trust 'em around their kids if that were true."

"Ooh! Such flattery, chief! We're blushin' here, really! And we can't blush!"

Chicane reined in the urge to growl at that cheerful voice from behind. She couldn't keep her armor from flaring aggressively though. She turned to see Backdraft and Hijinks together peeping their helms into Fastlane's office with wide grins. The two officers behind them smiled and stifled laughter. Fastlane himself smiled and rolled his optics.

"Would you make it a favor to me and stop messin' with Chicane here? You've really got her wires in a twist, boys. You keep this up she might just snap."

Two sets of optics went round as those of innocent sparklings, mouths curling into adorable pouts. Hijinks even let out a little puppy-like whine as his tail drooped.

"Come on," he insisted, waggling a digit at them. "Leave her be. She's new here. Let her adjust before you try anything with her. Iacon ain't Altihex."

They conceded with dramatic sighs. Fastlane waved them and the officers behind them onward, and only he noticed that Hijinks's digits were crossed behind him, and a sly wink was tossed his way by his friend. He had to resist the urge to burst into laughter. It looked like they had one more trick up their sleeves to try and loosen his newest addition up. He wondered what was on their minds – for a'almvi weren't exactly known for their subtlety.

"Stay out of trouble, alright?" warned the senior officer as she removed the cuffs from each mech's wrists.

The two young mechs laughed and assured them that any trouble they made would be of the good variety. That was their job!

The officer quirked a brow ridge but smiled. Normally watching overnight cells was a dull business but whenever these two got plopped into one the night was always too short in her opinion. Cybertron needed more of these Shifter Followers in times like these. Shame there weren't very many of them. Too bad Chicane didn't seem to like them very much, but Iacon was a lot firmer than Altihex what with all their political nonsense. Like chief had said, she would take some time to adjust before their antics really started to look as they were meant: funny. Funny and fun.

"Promise you'll come back and visit some time!" Bluestreak gushed. "I've never played tag on patrol before! That was so much fun! And you made night watch so much more fun! That's usually kinda boring and you made it hard just to stop laughing or smiling! I don't know what Chicane's problem with you guys is. You guys're great!"

Backdraft bowed in unison with Hijinks.

"All part of the service!" they said grandly.

"Go on. Out with your afts. Scram." teased the older officer.

Laughing, both mechs darted off into the daylight. Hijinks cupped a hand around his mouth and howled, leaping into the air and fist-pumping. Bluestreak laughed. These guys had so much energy!

"We'll see 'em again, right?" he asked. "Please say we'll see 'em again!"

The smile on the femme's lip-plates, though small and laced with old pain, was genuine. They reminded her so much of friends she'd lost, but at the same time their mere presence was helping to wash that old pain away. They were just so...so alive, so innocent. Like Disney's Peter Pan they seemed to remain forever young, joking and laughing and playing like overgrown sparklings. She wished she could be like them some solar cycles. How she yeared to forget the War and be young again. But you couldn't forget war, and you couldn't forget loss.

"I think we will," the dark blue and silver femme admitted. "Actually, if you want to you can follow them, Blue. See what they're up to; make sure they don't try anything too insane."

The look Bluestreak gave her made her think the decision was worth it. He looked like he'd just won the lottery: mouth open, optics round, and hands to his cheeks.

"Go on. You'll lose 'em if you don't start. If they can out-drive a Chaser they can out-drive you."

Bluestreak gave a happy shriek of delight. Transforming, he raced in the direction the two ne'er-do-wells had gone in, shouting "Guys, guys, guys! Wait for me!" Backdraft and Hijinks stopped just before they rounded a corner and soon enough they dragged the young mech along like he was the missing third of a trio. Soon enough they were gone from sight. But she could assume some spontaneous urge overtook the Blue Moon youth, for the sound of his czi'a quickly reached her. The airy, lively notes danced in her audials – a song of vitality and youth, of wind and energy and life and joy. At least that's what it sounded like to her.

Bluestreak and Backdraft's laughter soon joined the song. She could only imagine what Hijinks was doing to earn it.

Arcee's smiled broadened by a fraction. She gently shook her helm. Kids.

The trio of youths continued to laugh and talk as they went along. Backdraft once again thought that Bluestreak would make a good a'almvus. He had all the traits. But meh – that was his decision to make at the end of the solar cycle. He still liked him either way; knew how to not take life too seriously and have a little fun. Good to know that not all transfer cops were bores.

"Why were your digits cross earlier at the precinct, Hijinks?" Bluestreak wondered innocently, "You're not gonna go against Fastlane's orders are you?"

Hijinks cackled. That didn't encourage him.

"Not exactly. Let's just say: third time's gotta be the charm. Right, ro-bro?"

The trickster Canipid held a fist up. Backdraft met it and replied: "Definitely, ro-bro."

Bluestreak's optics went round. Realization struck him like a lightning bolt.

"You're gonna prank Chicane?! But he told you not to! You guys'll get in trouble!"

"He told us not to bug her or wind her up," clarified Hijinks with a grin. "Never told us not to prank her. Technicalities, Bluestreak, technicalities. Besides, if she doesn't know it was us – no harm done, eh?"

The young officer stared at them. "You realize that if anything happens to her today she's gonna instantly think it was you guys, right?"

Ah, but that was the beauty of it they argued slyly. They'd call in some friends to help them out with this one; they'd be the ones to perpetrate the prank. Chicane was new to the city so she wouldn't stop to think these friends were in cahoots with them. But first things first they said: supplies were needed. Namely paint. When asked why paint was needed Backdraft merely laughed. He'd get why in a bit he said.

One after the other the two a'almvi transformed and took off down the road. Confused but not willing to leave them alone (Arcee had given him instructions) Bluestreak followed after them until they were in a primarily business-heavy district of the city. Well, if they were aiming to find paint this would probably be the best place to look. They led him through a few side streets until they slowed their pace on a particular street lined with small businesses. Bluestreak was happy to note their target in mind was a body shop turned artist's studio that had the form of a garage, open to the air. Inside, an Avioid femme of about Backdraft's height, vibrantly colored and stunning in her appearance, worked on a vehicle-forming client's arms. The femme's helm moved to the rock and roll music that blared from the sound system's in her business. All around the studio were pieces of art that ranged from canvas-pieces to tattoo designs to holo-stills of spectacular alien vistas.

"Vignette!" Backdraft hollered from their position across the street, waving.

The Avioid femme steadied her hand and removed the stylus from the client's mesh before she looked up. With her helm up Bluestreak noticed she bore elaborate facial tattoos on one side of her faceplates and one of her audials bore multiple punk-style loop piercings. She was an odd mix of tribal elegance and rebelliousness in her appearance, and he kinda liked the look. Eagerly she waved them over, smiling.

"Ha! M'tz mornagna skr'et!" she greeted in an unusual accent Bluestreak couldn't place. "Come in, come in!"

She let the client off the slab with orders to keep his arms still and came over to them in a friendly flurry of feathers, performing a strange gesture on each of them in turn: a double-touch of her lip-plates on either side of their cheeks. The young officer found himself a little bewildered by this. He wasn't used to Preds being so openly friendly. It was...different. And he liked it.

"What can I do for the city's a'almvi this solar cycle, hm?" asked the beast femme.

The two miscreants shared smiled and asked: "You got any spare paint left over from a project we could use?"

"It'll go to a good cause!" Hijinks added.

Vignette's smile broadened, and she admitted that for them she would buy a fresh stock if it came down to it. Altihex was better with the Shifter Followers around to spread mirth and merry.

"But as it happens, yes," she said. "I have some leftover paint you're more than welcome to. I suppose you need them for one of your infamous color runs?"

"Yep!" Backdraft affirmed happily.

They shared a laugh. She bid them take the supplies they needed. There was even one or two canisters that appeared brand new to him, and she made no protest when one was selected. If Bluestreak hadn't been bewildered before he most certainly was now. Vignette was letting them take items from her business without paying for them? Was that even legal? Could she do that?

Vignette took notice of his surprise. Smilingly she reassured him: "It's alright, officer. It's not stealing. Consider it a donation instead. They always come to me or some of the other artists for color run supplies."

The client whom they had interrupted nodded and admitted that some artists in the district considered it bad form or impolite to not lend the a'almvi any excess supplies they wouldn't use or had finished with. Such a tactic helped keep their studios free of clutter and gave what might've been otherwise stagnating paint another use. Because hey – sometimes artists went shopping and the color they picked wasn't the one they wanted for their piece, so the canister would just sit there and rust indefinitely. Better to let someone else make better, more immediate use of it in that case.

"Oh! Okay," Bluestreak said. "But, um...what the heck is a color run? You mentioned it earlier, Vignette. I'm from Iacon and I've never heard of it before, but it seems normal here just going by the way you talk about it. I know they're gonna prank Chicane, so is the color run the prank or – or what?"

The Avioid artist smiled and chuckled.

"Stick with them and you'll find out soon enough..." she hinted mysteriously.

Supplies collected, the a'almvi and their tag-along bid a fond farewell to Vignette after thanking her for her help and charity.

Hijinks and Backdraft shared a celebratory high-five. Item number one on their checklist was done and dusted. Now they just needed the accomplices, and they knew just the 'bots to ask.

Backdraft led the trio around the city in an amiable dancing saunter, humming to himself. He kept his amber gaze mostly on the skies, much to Bluestreak's blatant curiosity. He didn't feel the need to satisfy it right away; it was funnier to keep him guessing. It wasn't every solar cycle Iaconian rookies green as emeralds were sent over to Altihex as transfers. He wanted to make this city memorable to him in every way.

Keens and a barking roar suddenly wafted over them from behind, as did calls in an unfamiliar language. He grinned and watched Bluestreak's helm jerk skywards as he spun around. Three Avioids and a ghostly white Tigerhawk raced towards them. He kept himself from laughing when Bluestreak panicked and ducked behind them, nervous. Wings spread wide to slow their speed. The Tigerhawk landed on the footpath they were on, while the birds kept to the skies, wings churning the air. Nervousness rising, Bluestreak drew his stun gun and aimed it at the approaching Tigerhawk.

"Whoa there, Blue! Easy!" the biker reassured smilingly.

"B-But –"

"Calm down, mech!" Hijinks said. "They're pals of ours. This is Minstrel –"

"Heeey!" greeted the strangely feminine looking fire-bird cheerfully.

"Downpour –"

The blue-grey avian beast waggled a talon at him, yellow optics sparking with electricity.

"Fritillary –"

"Easy with the firepower there, tough guy," she warned in her Canyonite drawl.

"And this here's Whitelash!" Backdraft finished.

The Tigerhawk bowed his helm, wings held low but extended a few degrees out. He greeted in his own language: "Zaol'eh muelevuloas."

"Morning to you, too!" Hijinks replied.

"You three have paint..." Downpour observed. Somehow through his beak he managed to grin. "Who are you running today?"

Together, the two a'almvi explained who they were pranking, why, and why they needed some help for this one. Fritillary laughed aloud on hearing them recount the game of telv bzq with the Chaser in question. That had been all over the net since last night. Some Academy kids had even gotten video of it that they had happily shared.

"We'll totally help!" Fritillary declared. "She still at the station?"

"S'far as we know, yeah," answered the biker mech.

A curious look at Bluestreak confirmed the question beyond doubt. He still looked stunned that they were doing this.

"Well, then what are we waitin' for?!" Downpour cried. "Let's go add some color to her solar cycle! Come on! Last one there's a lug nut!"

The birds took off. Rolling his optics but managing a fanged smile, Whitelash pumped his wings and followed after them. Hooting, Backdraft and Hijinks transformed and took off after them.

ALTIHEX'S TENTH PRECINCT

Fed up with Fastlane's attitude, Chicane had fled to the back of the precinct to blow off some steam at the practice range. In a city this crazy she felt it fortunate the precincts here even had a practice range. The police didn't seem to have much of a role here from the looks of things. Altihex was nothing like her chief had told her it would be like; he'd made it sound more like Polyhex. But why would he misinform her? It didn't make any logical sense. Ironhide wasn't the type to lie. The stark contrast was making her think her old chief and Fastlane were in cahoots and this whole thing was one titanic set up. What they were setting her up for she had no idea but she could practically smell a set up now.

The Iaconian Chaser fired off one last round at the now-smoldering targets. Her mood was by no means improved but she felt a little less likely to strangle someone on a whim now. Sighing, she holstered the ion pistol and headed for the front doors of the building. Maybe a drive around the city would help more. It was a long shot but maybe she'd find an actual crook to arrest or stumble across those ne'er-do-wells – she wanted to give them a message. Her chief may let them off light but she sure as the Pit wouldn't. She didn't know them and as such didn't trust them, and their high-speed game hadn't won them any points in her logbook.

She stepped out into the sunlight –

"BOMBS AWAY!"

Her helm jerked up in time to see a trio of Avioids swoop low, their path indicating they'd flown from a nearby rooftop. Instinctively her hand reached for her pistol, but she noted they were carrying something peculiar in their talons: buckets. Their optics were not displaying that tell-tale battle glow either, nor were they sporting war paint. So what in the...?

She opened her mouth to warn them – and her vision became a fiasco of color, reds and greens and pinks and oranges and yellows all swirled together. In an instant her mouth closed before any of the attacking color could get in. Chicane blinked twice, trying to puzzle out what in the name of the Primes had just happened. With care and a bit of emphasis she wiped the paint free of her optics, aiming to demand an answer from the beasts, but to her confusion they were laughing so hard they appeared to have trouble staying aloft. One of them, a fiery orange beast, fell to the ground within moments.

Laughter rang out from above and behind her – annoyingly familiar laughter. Her optics narrowed to slits. A growl burbled out.

"Brighten up, cop lady!" howled Hijinks.

Something began to bubble up in the Chaser's chassis. She looked at her paint-lathered frame, blinking. Her optics widened to normal, and something tugged at the corner of her lip-plates. Then she did something she hadn't done in a long, long time: she laughed, laughed freely and without restraint. Primes, that felt so good!

"Alright already! I give! Ileta! Ileta!" She held her hands up in surrender, still laughing.

The laughter from the rooftops turned into cheers and, in one case, a playful, encouraging howl.

"Mission accomplished, ro-bro!"

"Pit yeah! Up high, everyone!"

The two a'almvi shared high fives with their associates.

"I can't believe you actually got her to laugh by pranking her!" Bluestreak marveled. "She's not the kind of femme to laugh at that sort of thing! How did you know that would work?"

Backdraft and Hijinks shared glances and smiles. Bluestreak gawked further. His mouth dropped open, optics going round.

"You had no idea whether or not that would actually work, did you?"

Their smiles broadened.

"Nope!"

Their laughter rang over the rooftops, Chicane's joining with it.

Author's Note: Full credit to Shy-Light for the inspirational art piece!