Welcome back! Thank you, everyone who reviewed, it was very encouraging! I think I'm going to enjoy putting in as many folk tales and fairy tales as I can, just to see who recognizes them. By the way, I'm trying not to specify a name or gender for the Sparkling, because then it can be anyone you want it to be-it might even be you!
As usual, Hasbro owns the Transformers, the folk tales belong to everyone, and the words belong to me and my imagination.
There you are! Thank the Allspark! Are you alright, little one? I'm so glad I found you! Your parents contacted me when you didn't make it home last night. What happened? You got lost? How did this happen? Your home is not so very far from the archives, Sparkling. If you stayed on the path...oh. You didn't, did you? That's how you got lost, then. Oh dear one, you could have been seriously hurt! Your parents are searching the Stone District. Come, let's go and find them.
Hm? No, little one. I am not angry with you. I must admit, however, that I am wondering why you would leave the path when it is so clearly marked. What is it? Little One? You're very quiet all of a sudden. What? You want to tell me a story? Very well, tell me your story.
Little Red-Armor
Ok, there was a little sparkling called Little Red-Armor. Little Red-Armor was a good little sparkling, but always very curious. One day, Little Red-Armor was going home from the Elder's house at the library. The Elder told Little Red-Armor to stay on the path and to go straight home, but I-I mean Little Red-Armor- forgot. On the way from the Archives building, there are lots and lots of pretty gardens, and Little Red-Armor saw a flower that my Carrier would really like. And I reeeally wanted to get it for her, so I-um, I mean, Little Red-Armor, stepped off the path-just for a minute- to pick it! Only, when Little Red-Armor got to the flower, it was further away. And then when I went to get it again, it moved again.
I kept following and following and Little Red-Armor couldn't figure out how the flower was moving. Then the flower stopped moving, but the sparkling was really far away from the path! And there were no houses or anything, just fields. Little Red-Armor picked up the flower, but it was tied to a string, which was weird. And then there was a really scary-looking animal with big optics, and a big snout, and big teeth! So Little Red-Armor ran as fast as possible all the way back to the nearest bunch of buildings and hid under a box in an alley. The next morning, Little Red-Armor's friend the Elder came out to take me back to Sire and Carrier. And Little Red-Armor isn't going to wander off the path anymore. Um, The End.
Oh my! Well, that's quite a story! I'm glad that "Little Red-Armor" isn't going to wander off the path anymore. I'm going to have to tell the Council about that "scary-looking animal" though. We don't want anyone getting hurt if there are things like that out in the fields. It sounds like you learned a lesson last night, little one. Were you frightened? Yes, I think I would have been too, if I were your age. Well, nothing can hurt you now, Sparkling. Look! There's the Stone District: we're nearly to your parents. Another story? I don't know, Sparkling, you look very tired. You might fall into recharge during the tale.
You won't? Very well. What kind of story would you like me to tell? Something cheerful? Hmm...ah, I have it! I was on Earth, years and years ago, and a human woman once told me this story. Of course, I have changed it just a little...but that's neither here nor there. This is the story of the Femme who Couldn't Laugh. Oh no, it's a very amusing story, don't worry!
The Femme who Couldn't Laugh
Once upon a time, there lived a construction overseer and her three sons. The eldest was as strong as ten mechs, and was known throughout the city. The middle son was as strong as five mechs, and was known throughout the work sites. The youngest was not very strong at all, and hardly anyone ever remembered that he existed. He was much smaller than his brothers, who sarcastically referred to him as Titan. The overseer was embarrassed that one of her sons wasn't as strong as the rest of them, and didn't talk about Titan often. One day, the eldest son decided it was time for him to go out into the universe to seek his fortune.
His carrier arranged a grand going-away party for him, giving him a hammer made of titanium and three days of rations. There was a grand send-off, and the eldest mech set off down the highway. He hadn't been driving for long when he came across a very old Cybertronian sitting by the side of the road. "Good day, young one, and where are you off to?" he asked. The overseer's eldest son puffed out his chestplate and boasted that he was going to the capitol where he was certain to become so famous for his strength that the Prime himself would hire him. "Is that so?" asked the old one, "Well, I wish you luck! By any chance, do you have any energon to spare?"
The eldest scowled. "I have energon, but I'll not share it with the likes of you!" The old one did not seem troubled. Instead, he pointed to a great forest of pillars, not far from the road. "If you will only chop down the bronze pillar, then you will find what you deserve," he said. Snorting rudely, the eldest son strode to the pillar and swung his hammer at it. The pillar collapsed, pinning his leg. He bellowed in pain, but no one came; the old mech by the wayside was gone. The eldest was forced to drag his dented chassis home to his carrier: utterly humiliated.
Not too long after, the middle son decided to go out and seek his fortune. His carrier arranged a small going-away party and gave him an ax made of steel and a day's worth of rations. The middle son had not gotten very far out of the city when he came across the old mech by the side of the road. "Good day to you, young mech!" called the old one. "I haven't time to talk, old mech!" the mech blustered, "I'm off to the capitol!" The mech nodded his ancient red helm. "I'll not stop you then," he said politely, "But, do you have any energon to spare? It's been a very long time since I refueled." The middle son frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, old one," he said sadly, "I barely have enough for me. When I get to the capitol, I'll send someone back to help you. I promise."
The old mech motioned to the pillars. "Before you go, you must chop down the silver pillar! It will point you to your destiny." With a questioning look, the middle son took his ax to the silver pillar. With a crash, it fell. At its base was a sack of coins. Gratefully, he took it and went to Iacon, where he became a renowned artisan. The overseer and the eldest son fumed when they heard what had happened. This was when Titan decided it was time to leave home for the first time.
His carrier pushed him out the door with a crude iron staff and a single cube of energon. Titan took his time, enjoying the scenery. After some time, he too came across the ancient mech sitting by the highway. "Good day, Grandsire!" he called cheerfully. "Good day, young one," the mech replied, "Where are you bound?" Titan shrugged. "I suppose anywhere the stars take me," he chuckled. The old one asked him if he had any energon to spare, and Titan fished the single cube out of his subspace compartment. "What I've got is pretty humble," he apologized, "But what we have, we're meant to share." He held it out to the old mech, who took it with a glint in his optics. "What a kind young mech you are," he praised, "If you will only knock down the gold pillar, you will find a reward."
"Oh," Titan protested, "I require no reward, sir." He continued to protest until the old one practically ordered him to collapse the pillar. Upon knocking it over, Titan found something that looked like a petro-rabbit, but with a plumed tail made of red energon. Titan smiled at it. "Hello, little friend!" He picked it up, and tucked it under his arm. He turned to thank the old mech, but his mysterious visitor had vanished! "Well," Titan said to the petro-rabbit, "I suppose we'd better move on." They traveled to an inn, where he took a room for the night.
The innkeeper's sparkmate saw the red energon tail, and desperately wanted one of the plumes for himself. While the innkeeper did her best to distract Titan, her sparkmate tried to pluck a plume from the petro-rabbit. To his surprise, he stuck fast! No matter what he did, he couldn't pull free-not even transforming broke him loose! Titan turned and saw what had happened, and burst into laughter. "Well, my fine fellow," he said, "I suppose you'll just have to come seek your fortune with us!" "Here now," said the innkeeper, "I won't stand for this!" The femme tried to pull her sparkmate away, but her hands stuck to his doorwings! Yelping in dismay, the greedy couple were dragged behind Titan and the petro-rabbit as they left the inn and traveled on.
In the town, a young femme saw the strange procession and scurried to catch up. "Hey! You two ought to be ashamed, hanging on to a mech like that!" she scolded, and laid a hand on the innkeeper's shoulder. Imagine her shock when she too was stuck to the ever-growing line! The further through the town they progressed, the more mechs and femmes got stuck to the line, with Titan laughing hysterically the whole time. He had no idea how it was happening, and he wasn't sure how to make it stop, but he thought it was all good fun.
Now the Prime who ruled Cybertron at the time was very concerned about one of his friends, a warrior femme. She had once lost someone very close to her, and had vowed never to smile or laugh again. The Prime knew that such a thing was not good, and devised a competition among the friends and neighbors of the femme to see who could make her laugh first. The winner would join his elite guard for a day. The femme sourly contributed that the losers had to spend three days in bootcamp with the drill sergeant who had trained her. As time went on, fewer and fewer Cybertronians were brave enough to attempt it.
The Prime was beginning to think that his friend would be frowning for the rest of her life, when he heard a commotion in the city. He looked out over the wall to see a very long line of mechs and femmes in awkward positions, following a young fellow up to the very doors of the fortress. "Hello," the Prime called, "What's going on down there?" The young mech saluted politely. "I have no idea, sir. All these Cybertronians are following me!" The Prime smiled a little. He called to the warrior femme and asked her to open the door, for someone had come to see her.
Resigning herself to another round of bad jokes and strange juggling acts, the femme sighed and pulled open the doors. When she saw the blushing mech outside with his ungainly caravan, she smirked. The smirk turned into a smile, and the smile became a chuckle. Before long, she was sagging against the doorpost, shaking with laughter. Wiping away tears of mirth, she asked, "Who are you, and where have you come from?" Titan introduced himself, giving her his real name-not the one his brothers had given him- and held up the petro-rabbit. "Alright, you little troublemaker," he said with a smile, "I think you'd better let these people go!"
Suddenly, the innkeeper, her sparkmate, the femme from the town, and everyone else found that they could let go. They all hurried off as quickly as they could, embarrassed beyond belief. The Prime joined them at the door. "Why don't you join us here, young one?" he asked. Titan readily agreed, and they all lived a very adventurous life thereafter.
Sparkling? Ah, asleep. I thought so. Ah, there you are. Here is your sparkling, safe and sound. A bit frightened, but none the worse for wear. Yes, I will be bringing up this matter before the council. I'll have to see if there's anything we can do to make the streets safer for little ones like this. Oh? No, there's no need for that, my friends. I have no doubt you'd have done the same if it had been one of my grandsparklings in this predicament. All the same, I don't think anyone would complain if you kept the child out of school tomorrow. I'm sure you all need a day to recuperate. You should ask the little rascal to tell you about "Little Red-Armor". A pleasant day to you both, farewell.
Well, there may be more after this ("may" a word here meaning "most likely"). In other news, I've finally worked out what's going to happen in the next chapter of "Colony 21186D: Survival", and I just have to type it out. That should go up sometime this weekend. Happy Weekend, everyone!