A/N: Written for Blue, hijacked by a motley crew.
In-the-Mists.
Kaboom!
"What was that?" Bluestreak opened the door to his quarters… to find a moving grey wall in front of him. It spilled into his room. Smoke? His olfactory sensors detected nothing. Mist? A hand stretched out from monotony.
"Blue? Ya there?" Trailbreaker stepped through. "Whew! Sorry to step in uninvited, but the one minute I was walking down the corridor, the next, all I can see is… this!" He pointed at the grey. A hand grabbed his fingers. Both mechs jumped. In one fluid motion, Trailbreaker was yanked back into the mist. "Oof!"
"Hey! I caught a Trailbreaker!" A smooth voice said excitedly.
"Put it back man – you don't know where it's been!" A melody replied.
"'It' has been patrolling the Ark for the past few days!" Trailbreaker strolled back in, smirking just as much as the following Jazz and Blaster.
"Knock, knock," Jazz said, standing in the centre of the room.
"…Aww, don't worry. Come on in!"
"I'm sure th' mist 'll clear soon enough an' we'll get t' jumpin' an' a jivin'!" Jazz put a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder and looked about the room. His possessions were scattered about the place, spread out. It was not chaotic. It was not messy… just disorganised. "Ooh – Beejees!"
After five minutes they opened the door again – the miasma was thicker than before.
"Well, I ain't goin' out inta that!" Blaster complained.
"Hello? Someone there?" It was Wheeljack's voice.
"Ssh! Ssshhh! He's th' one responsible f' this!" Jazz grinned. They all fell silent.
"Anyone?" Wheeljack asked unsurely – lonely.
"Over here Wheeljack!" Bluestreak said at last. The other three mechs sighed, a little disappointed. With a bit of guidance, Wheeljack came into sight. They shut the mist out behind him.
"Whew! Thanks guys – I was beginnin' ta think I'd neva find my way through! When I heard that explosion-"
"Whoa! Wait a minute! That wasn't one o' your explosions?" Blaster asked. The mad inventor looked offended.
"Well, no – it came from t' other end o' the base!"
"This requires an investigation! C'mon Blue Boy!" Jazz grabbed Bluestreak's wrist and pulled him into the vapour. Wheeljack clasped his other arm and was followed by Blaster and Trailbreaker. Bluestreak only realised this by their voices – bickering over what article they had just collided with and who was responsible for this environmental hazard if Wheeljack was innocent.
After nine minutes, they were completely lost. By the first quarter of an hour had passed, they had tripped over several unknown objects, bumped into innumerable walls and (if, according to Jazz, they were where he said they were) had bumped their heads on four objects that should never have been there.
"Ah – more people!" Perceptor emerged from the mist. To do this, he had to be less than four feet from them. "Here, I need your help turning off the power to the boiler. There's been a small… accident. As I'm sure you can tell." Bluestreak cocked his brow – though no-one would have noticed. He felt for the nearest wall before groping about for a switch. "It's a twist-lever by the way – located under a desk on the right wall opposite the lab entrance." Bluestreak knocked something over. "That's my electro-magnetiser," he heard Perceptor wince. Bluestreak listened as something else shattered with a pleasing, tinkling sound. "There goes my favourite lens," the increasingly irate scientist replied. Blaster tripped. A clatter of metal reverberated through the room. "…And that happened to be me." Bluestreak found a desk. He bent over, blind by the mist, and found the twist-lever by touch. The haze thinned partially, leaving the others as apparitions barely in his sight. "Ah! It's a little overdone, but it remains digestible. Thank you for your assistance." The other mechs gaped at the incredulous sight. A purplish-green fluid in a beaker – a brew – had been the sole cause of all of the mist. Perceptor walked over and downed it, the last of the thick cloudy grey wisps escaping from his mouth. With that, he smiled at them and disappeared through the door and into what fog still remained.
End.
A/N: After the amount of exclamation marks I have used in this, I never hope to see one again. Believe it or not, this was actually edited to reduce the number of exclamation marks used.
The rating will likely go up with the next chapter, and therefore will not appear on normal K – T-rated searches.