The Diego Diaries: Resume 1 (569) edited
-0-On the field
They took their places, their helms close to each other. The time spent in the locker rooms was welcomed but so was the return to the field. They were ready to kick aft and score.
"Ready to lose, fragger?" -Praxus center
"Ready to eat my ped?" -Kaon center
They clashed as the ball was tossed, all of them crashing into each other as Kaon tried to push the ball carrier into the fourth dimension. They grunted, pushed, punched and groaned as extraordinary forces came together. The ball carrier was buried alive.
WHISTLE!
They climbed off after a few well placed punches, then walked to the sideline for the ins. Towers were erected and took their place, fast backs and wings were aligned just this side of the line which they could not cross. The ball carrier threw it in and commenced a frenzy of Kaon and Praxian players fighting over it. The ball was gripped by Kaon, so that player broke lose and ran. He got halfway to the goal before being obliterated by a town car with attitude.
Flying out of bounds, he landed on his peds. Shaking the ball in his servo at the Praxians as he did the usual NANNY NANNY BOO-BOO! stuff half witted jock meat heads always did when they wanted to RUB IT IN!, he was clobbered on the helm with a drink glass. It bounced off landing nearby as the intended target turned to look for the miscreant with the audacity to make a point on his helm. No one owned up but a mass of mini-con and micro mini-con spectators gave him their short statured but pointed version of F-You.
The player gave them HIS version of F-You that ignited the gasoline of their tiny sparks into a small but intense flame. They came over the wall and landed on the ground in a waterfall of vivid color and colorfully vivid invective. Standing with the ball watching them, the player punted two before the mass began to grip onto him. Other Kaon players had reached him by then including the twins.
"SLAGGERS! FRAG OFF!" Sunstreaker said before he collared two and tossed them back over the wall. They flew up, then down before disappearing from sight. The others faced with the menace of the twins began to make towers. They climbed up to about four mini-cons high, then stumbled forward swaying and gripping each other madly.
Sunstreaker paused, then grinned at his brother as the two stood watching. The mini-con towers tottered here and there, then managed to go forward, the top mini-con fist cocked to give the front-liners hell. Sunstreaker gripped the tiny fist of the top playah, then tossed him casually over his shoulder. He flew away like a cast off toy. The others paused, then charged. They flew over the shoulders of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as easily and comically as the first one.
The crowd watched with excitement offering their personal critiques of the performance with gusto. The roar almost matched that of Springer who came out of a tunnel where he was taking a call. He paused, then charged along with Drift, Kup, Lon and Old Hercy who had been spoiling for a fight since Springer and Drift got flattened early in the game.
"ITS SLAGGING DISRESPECTFUL, KUP! FRAGS ME OFF!" he had said in his usual calm manner. Kup merely grinned and nodded. Lon nearly vapor locked in admiration of the deceptively harmless appearing mechanism.
With a roar of absolute aggravation, Springer grabbed mini-cons right and left tossing them right and left as he mowed his way forward. In seconds, they were flying, landing, rolling, rising and getting punted again. More Watchmen swarmed and soon the ground which was littered with mechanisms was as neat and trim as the beard on Alpha Trion's face.
Turning, glaring with aggravation, Springer paused. A camera was pointed right at him. Old Hercy who was turning to walk back to the tunnel paused. He gave the camera the Cybertronian version of the finger. Then he continued onward. It was the right touch for the right moment. Everyone else doubled over with laughter including the players from Kaon and Praxus who had watched the melee with great pleasure and a lot of constructive criticism.
"PLAY FRAGGING BALL!" Hercy said as he walked off, a worshipful Lon and deeply amused Kup following. Springer and Drift glanced at each other, then grinned. "Play fragging ball, mechs. You heard the mechanism," Springer said looking at the group of smirking players standing around them.
They did.
-0-The ins
They gathered again, Kaon once more ready to pitch the ball in. They did and Sideswipe grabbed it. Bending down to miss a forest of arms and fists attempting to end his spree, he motored forward through a clearing to the goal beyond. His spectacular sensors were working overtime calculating the distance of everyone on the field from him, the various routes he could take to the hoop, the trajectory he would have to use to score and where the frag was Sunstreaker?
That bot peeled two mechs off his chassis and followed Hugh-O toward the goal to support his brother. Their extraordinary chemistry and programming was synched as it worked out the plan for victory the same as it always had in everything they did from courting Bluestreak to fighting in battle. By the time Sideswipe was in scoring range Sunstreaker and Hugh-O were nearly there.
-0-Prowl
He stood silently, emotionlessly as he lived and died with every ped fall of his team. The longing of a lifetime, the wishes of a sparkling and youngling bubbled up in his processor as he watched the excruciating game play out. He was almost numb from worry. Sometimes it sucked to be Prowl.
-0-On the field
At the end zone of the Praxian goal zone, Sideswipe was bearing down. Behind him came Sunstreaker and Hugh-O closely followed by Praxus as well as the hopes and dreams of whiners everywhere. Kaon followers could be heard shouting, their X-rated chants for their enemies filling the air. Praxus who wouldn't say shit if they had a mouthful had their own chants. They were less vile but none the less horrendous with their references to anatomy, chemistry and physics.
Mostly string theory applied to your rectum.
As he approached the goal, Sideswipe jumped flying as high as he could. As he did, the ball flew backwards landing in the carefully timed servos of Sunstreaker. Jumping up on the shoulders of Hugh-O who had gotten up a great head of steam, Sunstreaker prepared to throw the ball through the hoop. As he did, Sideswipe landed on the goalie, the pair rolling through the end zone together.
With Praxus nearly ready to decapitate the pair, Sunstreaker reached the hoop and dropped the ball through. The both turned walking to the center line together, both of them screaming madly. Sitting on Hugh-O's shoulders, Sunstreaker strode (Hugh-O motated) across the field toward the team.
Praxus who were still standing in the end zone counting their digits turned to watch them go. Sideswipe peeled himself off the Praxian goalie, then rolled forward crowing like a crowing thing. He reached the bench, then chest bumped other players like the juvenile delinquent he was. Turning, watching Hugh-O drop Sunstreaker off, they looked at the scoreboard.
Praxus-2, Kaon-3.
It was a good orn to be a twin.
-0-The stands
Most of the stadium had chosen sides and the Kaon side was caterwalling madly their great pleasure. Praxus was represented by an equally vocal group who expressed their great displeasure as well. Jazz and Blaster who had explained the scoring play grinned. "This game is a work and wonder," Blaster said.
Jazz nodded. "That was a sneaky play by the twins. You would think that Praxus would learn. The entire league has not formulated a plan to contain them."
"No, they haven't. Whoever has the twins on their team have a pair to draw to," Jazz said with a smirk. "Lucky them."
-0-On the field
They lined up again. The ball was tossed. Praxus was swamped by fast runners hitting the behemoths at the right angle to tip them over. They crashed, fists flew, invective was delivered, then they stood up and began again.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe watched from the sidelines, their fierce optics focused on the play. The cameras lingered on them lovingly giving the fans both Cybertronian and human the show they wanted to have. For too many who were loathe to mention it to anyone including their confessors … ESPECIALLY their confessors, the twins were sex on wheels.
The humans who lived here and worked with the bots could find the intangibles about them that gave them more accessibility. Their 'sex appeal' had always been evident to some humans but more and more were finding the fascination by watching the games, seeing the bad boys on all sides play. For a lot of individuals, it was a paradigm shift in what was beautiful and relatable. For fangrrls/boyz, it was business as usual.
The ball advanced, fell back, then advanced again. They shoved, slugged, slagged and gave up the ball. Back and forth, the ball went without score. The clock was running out. All Kaon had to do was hang on. Praxus had to get the lead out.
-0-Prime
:Prowl:
:What?:
:Are you alright?:
:No. You?:
:I am not alright if you are not:
Prowl grinned faintly. :Loyal are you?:
:Yes: Prime replied with a faint grin of his own. :No matter how this turns out, you win. You did your best:
:You acknowledging that I stacked the team?:
:Are you?: Prime asked glancing down at the tense winger standing beside him.
:No. Not yet:
That is when Praxus took the ball and ran for the end zone with all their thundering might. Prowl nearly hit the Matrix as the game broke in two.
Ratchet watched the two out of the corner of his optics noting that they were having an internal conversation that probably verged on a wellness check by Prime of his Onliest Only One. He grinned, then considered the possibility that overtime would be the end of Prowler. Good thing I named the sparkling after him, Ratchet thought. If Prowl hits the Matrix, they would have a reminder of him left behind.
The slagger.
That is when the Praxians grabbed the ball and galloped like banshees for the goal.
-0-Ironhide and Blackjack
Alor of Iacon was from Iacon. Ironhide and his father, both of Praxus were homeboys. They loved their city-state and its various (horribly bad, yet highly intellectual) sporting teams. Never having won a SINGLE GAME IN THE HISTORY OF CYBERTRONIAN FOOTBALL … not a single slagging game … EVER!... the scene before them was integral to their sense of self and their mech hood.
The whiners.
They stood together trading quips and swear words finding themselves falling into old habits. They found themselves circling the Pit as they watched the twins … THEIR SLAGGING TWINS!... make a mockery of their dearly wished for hopes and dreams.
THE SLAGGERS!
That was when Praxus grabbed the ball and ran toward the goal like boulders falling off mountains.
-0-Praxus Science
They ran in a group, a Flying Wedge of Doom heading toward the goal zone and the three big mechs gathering their guts to defend it. The rest of the Kaon team turned and ran onward, a few of them even accessing their hithertofore unused unneeded temporary short term flight software. It would do no good.
Praxus thundered in, blew the Kaon players away and planted the ball through the hoop.
It was then that Prowl lost his shit.
-0-TBC December 29, 2013