The Diego Diaries: Cloudy (dd7 411)
=0=the game …
The game wore onward, a much faster and more brutal version than that observed by the fans than before. The teamwork of Arcee, Jetta, Prime and Elita was fast and had a shorthand about it that moved the team to two more scores. There were also two more big fights between Optimus and Simfur defensive behemoths as well as one by Blackjack and another between Raptor and his usual Simfur nemesis, a massive mech who was an acolyte for the priesthood. By the time they walked off the field for the half time Simfur was zero while Crater stood at fifteen.
=0=Elsewhere
The light was waning on Cybertron when Xylon walked to his hotel. He entered, then walked to the elevator. When he did a tall mech watched him from a chair nearby, noting his behavior and demeanor. It was cold, closed off and intense. The bad vibe from him was remarkable. He entered the elevator and went upward as the mech who was watching disappeared from view.
Moments later …
Prima sat on a rock on a barren planet listening to the intel from Solomus. It was going to be hard for the Cybertronians on the Cybertron that Megatronus managed to harm this mech or neutralize his danger. They had the codes for Phase Sixers, the Pantheon, but They couldn't give them to this Prime. They couldn't give them out at all. What They could do was intervene short of direct free will meddling, something that had a very fine line to it. It would involve influencing them and prompting intuitions rather than just handing over everything or doing it Themselves. Some of the participants weren't averse to what was unfolding which complicated things terribly.
There was one real hard and fast rule in this and every other universe. It wasn't that all things that live had a shelf life. There were beings in this universe that were as ancient as the Beginning of All Things. It wasn't that there was a hard and fast rule for morality or the 'good'. Morality changed over time. What was once thought moral could change and did such as slavery and the treatment of those weaker or different from others. What was good for one was a value judgment to another.
No. The real hard, unchanging and fast rule was that no one anywhere including the Pantheon and The One Himself would ever step in and meddle with someone's free will choices. Even if they were on skid row or in peril of dying there would be no intervention against what someone had chosen for their path. If that was the pre-birth choice of a spark, then that spark would have their choices honored.
No one died without consent, this all of Them knew and no one ever 'died' anyway. They just transformed.
It was silent after Solomus gave His report and insights into a mech who was as cold and unmoved by others as the vast neutral emptiness of vacuum.
"We must do Our best to influence this mech out of the space of Megatronus. He will not be equipped to handle this one. They have no Warrior Elites nor do they have the means to neutralize this one. We must lead him away to another place," Prima said. "Does Megatronus have the codes for these beings?"
Solus frowned. "No. They have no Warrior Elites. Optimus did not give them to him. We cannot do it Ourselves."
"I find the rule of free will disconcerting in its convoluted prohibitions and allowances," Amalgamous said as he sat shifting through forms even as they conversed.
"You were never one for the hard and fast, Brother," Quintus said with a smirk. "Show Me where I am wrong."
Amalgamous grinned. "You aren't."
They would brainstorm for a while before disappearing into the ether.
=0=Halftime! with JAZZ! and BLASTER!
The humans from Earth were shooting the breeze with the pair who lounged in their chairs in the announcer's booth high above the floor of the arena. The room was packed with monitors, Revet was acting as the engineer and the screens showed everyone chatting with the pair.
"I know its hard for humans to fathom the game but all you have to do is remember that it came from tough neighborhoods and ghettos where the game was for keeps, there was prestige and bragging rights in play and no one cared." Jazz laughed. "It wasn't a game for wimps and sometimes the team you played for represented a gang or a block that showed what you might face if you crossed the line."
"The game was co-opted by the mainstream, taking into a nicer and clearly more 'pure' direction by them for the greater public. The fighting was refined and the rules stricter. Given that most of the players playing here now were from the streets and Ratchet who was born and raised in The Jumble was the one who revived football here, it was decided that the purer original game was the better one. The college boys who are on the teams had to relearn the rules of the road. They weren't allowed to fight this much and the rules were stricter about what was allowed than we play here. I think its a much more interesting game, our version," Blaster said.
"Then you both played?" a sportscaster from Sweden asked.
They both nodded.
"We played as kids and we played in the army. Wherever there's mechs and femmes with a ball, this game is played. Racing is our national pastime, our national 'sport' but football is a close second," Jazz said. "Basketball is blazing away here. Even when the pros aren't playing, the college and public school teams are. The kids bring a very good game."
"Do they have their own Ratchets as well?" a sportscaster from Kenya asked.
Both laughed.
"Ratchet is one of a kind," Jazz said with a smile. "I'd like you to know that we're going to have golf tournaments for broadcast as soon as enough mechs and femmes learn the game. Our rules are going to be a bit different as well. Also, the course is huge."
"Then there's baseball," Blaster began. "That's going to be modified and changed as well." He grinned. "That doesn't include about three other sports being developed here. All of them are going to be fun to watch, I think."
"Any of them contact sports?" a dazzled sportscaster from Scotland asked.
Jazz smiled, a wholly beautiful thing. "When are they not?"
=0=In the stands
"More?"
Chevron glanced at Sela who was holding a box of cookies. "I do not mind if I do, my dear. Thank you, Sela. You are always so kind."
"Well," Sela said as she handed the box down the row to the others. "Its easy to do with all of you."
"When will you leave for Cybertron?" Lauren asked Chevron.
"Tomorrow. I will be there for a week, then come back. By then the school will be up and running and all of the blessings spoken. Turbine will join me for part of them given his schedule but it will be a good thing over all. The Functionalist issue still lingers," Chevron said. "By the way, how are the children, Lord Cyclonus?" he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.
Cyclonus stared down at his unlikely friend and partner. "They are doing very well. They play spontaneously and seem happy. The final report on whether they go to public school will be coming soon. I am uncertain yet hopeful that it will be a good thing."
"We all do," Chevron said. "Our children are pure and precious."
All of them agreed, then a drunk mini-con across the arena stepped onto a railing high up in the stands and jumped.
"OH MY WORD!" -Chevron who nearly dropped his cookies.
It would be instructive how many mini-con flight mechanisms jumped off the railing, transformed, then flew madly toward the falling grinning little fragger. One of them nailed him, then flew upward with the little mech sitting on him like he was astride a horse.
The others formed up and they disappeared into the clouds overhead only to fall backward in formation toward the arena. Down they went, then up, then in a tight circle around the stands at high speed until someone threw a cup of something and hit the lead plane in the noggin. Sputtering, he began to fall to the ground with the now magnetized and hilariously singing drunk on his back.
The others broke formation and flew frantically downward. They transformed in mid air, gripped him by his tail feathers while their pedal thrusters gently allowed them to land in a heap on the ground.
The crowd went nuts with relief and laughter.
Springer and the Boyz ran out of a tunnel toward the group.
A mass of inebriated mini-con mechs and a couple of whooping femmes, all of them related by village, blood and personal loans to the slaggers on the ground burst up over the railing and began to land on the sidelines. They did in quantity, then ran forward to assist their fallen brethren.
It was on.
=0=In a locker room(s)
"WOW! LOOK AT THAT!"
Everyone turned toward Sunspot who was smiling brilliantly at the monitor of the scene outside. Mini-cons were everywhere bounding and whooping as the big Watch mechs tried to grab them.
"Oh, frag," Raptor said with a chuckle. "Why does the good stuff happen when we can't be there."
Everyone agreed.
=0=In the Primal Box
"WELL, ISN'T THIS JUST DANDY!"
Ratchet glanced at Prowl who was holding Possibility while he was sleeping in a bundle of blankets and a very cute green onesie. "Wanna help?"
Prowl glanced at Ratchet with caustic optics. "Don't you dare."
"Why thanks, Prowler. Your command is my wish," Ratchet said, then he skippity-hopped down the aisle to the barrier, climbed up, flipped off doing a double something or other before landing on his peds on the sidelines. He bowed, blew kisses, then began to skip onto the field to do his duty.
Prowl stared at him with disbelief. "LOON! GET BACK HERE!"
At that moment, Docker made her move.
=0=Springer and the Long Arm of the Law
"WHAT THE FRAG! YOU LITTLE SWINE! I'M GOING TO FRAG YOU UP!" Springer said as he began to grab at a moving feast of little mechs and a couple of grinning femmes who darted in and out of his legs and grasp.
"COME AND GET US, FAT AFT!" an old mech who probably knew better bellowed as he waved his tiny little cane in Springer's direction. Then he turned and began to run with a big smile on his face. He didn't run fast but it was clear that this was the greatest thing that had happened to him since he was a youth about five zillion vorns ago. Following him with her own cane was the bond, a tiny femme with a delightful paint scheme, smile and a lot of moxie.
Maxi who had moxie, too, stared at them, then the (Her) Boyz™. "DON'T TOUCH THEM! I'LL GET THEM LAST! THAT'S MY GREAT GREAT AMMA AND APPA! THEY COULD USE THE EXERCISE!" Then she ran for a mech wagging his aft at Jolt.
"What the frag," Springer said to Drift as he looked at the two hobble off together tee-hee-ing with delight at being part of the anarchy. "HOW!? HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN!?"
"Because we're the two luckiest fraggers in the known universe?" Drift asked.
Springer considered that as he watched the two zigzag across the field eluding pursuit though there was none considering Maxi said to leave them be. "You're right as rain as usual. Come on. Pony up."
With that, the two ran after a mob of mini-cons who were dancing just out of reach of their grasp.
By that time Ratchet had arrived and was chasing them as well. He was laughing and smiling his beautiful smile as he ran after the two femmes. They were familiar, perhaps friends of 2-Lip or family. "COME TO MAMA! COME TO ME, YOU LITTLE FRAGGERS, YOU!"
"FAT CHANCE!" they both hollered as they began to run rings around the bigger folks.
Out of the blue, a tiny flying femme took out the first one by rolling like a ball into her peds. The little femme flipping in a circle in the air, then fell. Docker stood, then smiled at the little femme laying on her back smiling up herself. "Tootie. What are you doing here?"
"Docker. Join us. BE FREE!" Tootie shouted with great joy. "This is fun and we're on TV."
Docker glanced around, then down at her good friend and bowling team member, Tootie of Village 18A. She pulled the little femme up, then grinned. "Okay. MINI-CONS FOREVER!" Docker shouted, then with Tootie at her side, she began to run with abandon with the others.
Ratchet who was nearby with a struggling laughing mini-con in each servo stared at his little Amma cavorting by with abandon with one of her bowling partners. It was mind blowing but amusing. "You little slagger, you. I'M COMING FOR YOU, AMMA!"
"YOU CAN TRY, SONNY!" Docker said as she cavorted past.
He would.
=0=TBC 10-22-2020 10-26-2020