The Diego Diaries: Boo 2
-0-Later that afternoon
Ratchet walked into the apartment, a spring in his step. It was dinner time and after that trick-or-treating began. Pausing to look around, he smiled. Tie Down and Ravel were holding Praxus and Hero. Orion was standing in front of them babbling. Sunspot was sitting on Alor's lap while Blackjack sat on a couch nearby talking to Ironhide. The entire room paused and turned to the door. "HI, ADA!" every short-statured figure in the room said at the top of their voices.
Ratchet greeted them back.
It was going to be awesome.
-0-Moments later after dinner
Ratchet walked out of the berthroom boxes in servos. Setting them on the table, he looked at the little botlets that were standing around him staring up with big smiles. "Ironhide, help me with Sunspot's costume."
Ironhide grinned and arose walking to the table. He watched as Ratchet opened a big box with Sunspot's name on it. They both stood grinning at the costume and then each other. "That is way cute, Ratchet."
"Put it on him," Alor said pulling a camera from subspace.
Ironhide picked it up and looked at the little Seeker staring up at him with a dazzling smile. "How does this work, Ratchet?"
Ratchet took the costume and looked at Sunspot. "Turn around, son," he said. Sunspot turned and looked up just in time for the cap part of his costume to be placed on his helm. Velcro on the flaps attached together and held it firmly in place. Taking little green gloves out, he slid them on Sunspot's servos. Looking down, he grinned. "Turn and show everyone how beautiful you are, Sunbeam."
Sunspot did and smiled expectantly at the group sitting around the room taking pictures madly. "What do I look like, Ada?" he asked.
Ratchet turned him and walked to the window, both pausing to stare at his reflection. Sunspot was himself but for the ENORMOUS yellow daisy that he wore as a hat. It framed his helm, long yellow petals radiating out from his sweet face and they matched his colors perfectly. Green gloves that ended at his elbows were the stem and leaves of the flower.
He looked up at Ratchet and then the window. "WOW! THIS IS PRETTY! WHAT IS IT!?"
"Its a daisy. I was going to make it a sunflower but it would have covered too much of your handsome face," Ratchet said. He knelt. "You look spectacular, sparkling."
Sunspot turned and hugged Ratchet, then he turned and beamed at everyone else. "WHAT DO YOU THINK!? I LOVE IT!"
The compliments were instantaneous and effusive. Every angle that a botlet could pose was accomplished as grandadas and grandatars admired the little bot. Pictures taken with them were also accomplished.
"What about Orion and Praxus?" he asked looking up at his genitors.
"We are going to need help," Ratchet said pulling the next two boxes out. Pulling off the lids, he grinned. "Did you see these? They're genius."
"They are. You are one sick slagger," Ironhide said.
"I know," Ratchet said pulling out a round orange ball. It had several holes in its design and a jagged maniacal face on the front. Hoops held its shape and were solid enough to take a lot of abuse while holding its shape. "Help me put it on Orion."
Ironhide reached down and set Orion on the table confiscating his dollie. The little bot shot him a caustic optic before being stuffed into the round hoop ball. Legs were pulled out and arms too before he was set back down. He stood looking at his belly and then his genitors. "ATAR! ORION, ME! HOW ME!?"
"I don't know," Ironhide asked. "Ask your ada."
Orion looked at Ratchet just as a hat was settled on his little helm. Ratchet held it a moment and grinned. "I glued that hat to his helm. It won't come off until I spray the denaturing solution on it."
"You glued that thing to his helm?" Ironhide asked with surprise.
"With medical glue that's harmless. It's the hat. See? The pumpkin is here and its carved out like a jack-o-lantern. This is the part that they cut off first when they make them. They make them from gourds. This green part," he said touching the stem of the hat, "is the stem. It grows on a vine. He's a jack-o-lantern. See?"
They all looked at Orion who was studying his protruding orange stomach. He tried to touch the hat on his helm but he couldn't grip it. Ratchet's directions in its design to the Crafts Guild were very specific. Ratchet put him on the floor and steered him to the window. He looked at his belly and then caught his reflection. He stood transfixed for a moment, then looked up. Pointing at the window, he shook his helm. "ADA! ORION, ME?"
"Yep," Ratchet said smiling.
He stood looked at himself, then walked to the window. When he got near his belly bumped and he fell backwards. Bouncing twice, he then rolled a bit until he was face down hanging in the structure of the pumpkin suit. He frowned. "ADA! ORION, ME! COME ME! ORION, ME!"
The laughter in the room was amazing as Ratchet retrieved him. Passing him off the Tie Down, he walked to the next box. "As you can see, we are going traditional but formal this year." He opened the next box and grinned. "Praxus?"
Ironhide grabbed him, placing the little bot on the table. After a moment of grappling, they had him kitted out too. Putting him on the floor, they watched him watch himself. He was Batman. He wore a round ball suit which was black but for the yellow bat displayed on the front. His cap was a bat mask that allowed his little finials to poke out like bat wings. He looked at himself through a Batman mask and blinked. "ADA!"
"What, Praxus?" Ratchet asked.
"PAX?" He pointed at himself.
"Yep," Ratchet said.
Praxus looked around and turned walking to the adults who were furiously filming him. Pausing in front of Orion, he smiled. "O!"
Orion looked around and then smiled. "PAX!" A sudden urge to hug his brother overcame him. He walked forward, they bumped bellies and both fell over. They rolled and ended up face down hanging in their suits.
"ADA! ADA, BAD! ORION, ME! COME ATAR!"
"ATAR! COME!" Praxus said as well.
It was a good thing. Ratchet was laughing too hard to help.
-0- Down on the street
They walked out, the pumpkin and batman bots on leashes as their grandatars carried matching orange jack-o-lantern baskets for their loot. Alor and Ravel strolled next, cameras in servo to capture everything. Ratchet and Ironhide followed behind, Hero lying in Ironhide's arms. Her costume was simple. She was Solus Prime. She wore a body tight that was printed with the black and silver anyone would understand denoted The Maker. Lying across her little tummy was a very small copy of the Forge of Solus Prime, an artifact of enormous antiquity and respect among her people.
She wore the long flowing garment that furled around the beautiful Solus and set her apart from most who eschewed garments altogether. A cap duplicating the Lady's finials completed her outfit. She lay looking at her old pa with a look of contentment that warmed his spark.
"She looks beautiful. Just like the pictures of Solus."
"She does, Ironhide. We have to have at least one infant showing the flag for Cybertron. Look at the others," Ratchet said nodding to the three who were dancing and dawdling along with excitement.
"Those little round costumes are a caution," Ironhide said with a grin. "If they fall, they will bounce."
"Part of the plan," Ratchet said as they paused before their first stop. Sunspot looked back and Ratchet nodded.
Turning, taking the little mechs by the servo, Sunspot stepped up to the smiling mechs outside Day/Night Watch Substation #4. "TRICK OR TREAT!" he said with an enormous smile.
The mechs snorted and laughed, some of them kneeling to look at the infants more closely. One of them had a basket of treats. He dropped one in all three pumpkin baskets. Profuse thank yous were given and they moved onward blending into the mass of infants and their families out trick-or-treating for the first time ever.
Nearby on segways, the soldiers, some of the film crews and a number of scientists watching with great amusement and delight.
:I can't believe this is happening: Sheila said with a grin. :An alien species is trick-or-treating here on an alien planet:
:You forget Christmas Surprise: Bobby Epps said with a chuckle. :Ratchet has a long reach:
:No doubt: Jack Mellar said as his crews filmed madly.
The family moved on stopping here and there where the crowds were lighter. When they reached Ops Center, the treats were given out by Jazz and Mirage. As they chatted, the twins and Bluestreak entered carrying the twins who were dressed up as fairies. Their little wings were decorated with lace and sparkling beads, their little helms sporting equally sparkly crowns.
Kaon walked on his own and bore a TREMENDOUS resemblance to his grandatar, Optimus Prime. "Where is Prime? Or is he going to be a party pooper?" Ratchet asked.
"They're going to meet us going back. Venture and Miler are with them. Come with us," Bluestreak said.
All of them turned laboriously and headed back out. Trick-or-treating all the way back down the other side of the street, they converged at the intersection that led to the Temple. The three mechs were dressed up as N.E.S.T. soldiers complete with full uniforms of desert design and toy rifles. A shout from nearby drew Silverbow to where they stood.
She paused and looked up at the mass of adults, pumpkin infants and costumed younglings with a slightly shy expression.
"Silverbow, that is an amazing costume," Ratchet said as Hound and Trailbreaker caught up, a smiling Rebel sitting on his ada's arm. That little baby was dressed as a dog. A hound dog.
"I'm a punk princess," she said with a smile.
Everyone present who is an adult: Initiate. Search. Princess, Punk. Noun. Definition. Disengage.
"Wow. That's … uh," Miler said with a grin. "I am amazed, Silverbow." He grinned and caressed her cheek. "Tell me about it, sweetie."
She looked down at the complex costume that had required a lot of research and coordination from the elderly femme at the Guild who had created it for her. She wore actual Doc Martin boots on her peds and they laced halfway up her thin little legs. Her legs were clad in strange fishnet looking stockings with a rip here and there. A short skirt of black material covered her lower half while a t-shirt-like top with "Never Mind the Bullocks. Here come the Sex Pistols" printed on it peeped out of her black leather jacket. A black wig that hung straight to her shoulders was the topper.
It was amazing. And mystifying.
She explained it and waited anxiously for reaction.
"Silverbow, you are amazing. Just amazing. I never heard of punk princesses. Where did you find this costume idea?" Ravel asked with fascination.
She smiled. "I saw it when I was looking at Ada's magazine datapad. He reads 'Rolling Stone' and I saw the pictures. Then I looked in the databases and found more pictures. Ada and Atar were so great. They let me do this and the nice lady at the Guild made this. See?" She opened her jacket wider and spun slowly smiling brightly.
"You're a princess but I don't know that you are punk. You are way too polite a femme," Miler said with a grin.
"My ada and atar said the same thing. I like the costume. I think its really pretty," she said with a smile.
"Put them all together. We need a group shot," Venture said.
After a great deal of hoohah, they collected together and pictures were had.
"Ada? Can we go trick-or-treat some more?" Sunspot asked looking up at Ratchet.
"I think it's necessary," Ratchet said. They turned and began to walk to the towers. Things were only beginning.
=0=TBC
2012 (11)
Data about the Forge of Solus Prime:
The Forge of Solus Prime, symbol of office of the master-artificer of the Thirteen. Oddly, it is not actually a forge in the classic sense, but rather a hammer the size of which suggests that Solus Prime and her brothers towered over modern Cybertronians.
The forge operates through the convergence of magic and science. It is believed that it can be used to make anything out of anything, but it has been shown to be limited by the skill and knowledge of the Prime wielding it. The forge was used to craft all other artifacts of the Thirteen and is noted to be one of the few things which could craft the core components of a Cybertronian body from scratch. It is largely inert when not in the hand of a Prime but that doesn't mean it can't pack a slagging huge wallop. The thing is so heavy that only Optimus Prime and Megatron can carry it without any difficulty.
Taken from the entry for her at the tfwiki site.