Title: Pretty Things
Prompt: Feather
Striking was, temperamentally, a difficult child. He developed a strong sense of vanity and an unpredictable temper before he could walk. He was the undisputed king of tantrums, and a definite diva in the making. But he didn't have Galaxy's talent for disappearing, or Cloudjumper's notoriously short attention span, or even Bunkerbuster's constant need to, well, bust things. All things considered, he was one of the easiest to look after, so when today's sitters took the sparklings to play outside, they didn't pay him much mind. Bunkerbuster had bit Galaxy, who was now trying to claw out his optics, Quasar had decided the best way to enjoy being outside was to pick up anything he could reach and throw it at his sitter's head, and Behemoth would only stop crying if someone was bouncing him.
Striking stood a short distance away, staring up into a tree, completely immune to the chaos around him. 'Buster and Galaxy fought all the time. What was really important was there was something up in that tree, and every time it moved, it glimmered. He wanted it. But he wasn't much good at climbing trees, that had always been for Cloudjumper and Galaxy. So, he did the next best thing, which was to throw a rock at it. The glimmery thing shrieked and flew away, but he didn't care. A single feather floated down towards him, shimmering green and blue and purple. Excited, he leapt for it, only for the wind to send it soaring away.
Now, Striking wasn't one to wander off on his own, but if he had one weakness, it was for pretty things. He took off after it without hesitation, running as fast as his small frame could go. He had total tunnel vision; he saw nothing but his feather. So when he lunged, snatching his prize in his servo, he didn't notice the cliff until he was violently yanked away from it.
"Striking!" Shouted a Vehicon who's name he didn't remember, "Are you crazy?! You could've died! Your creators could have killed us all!"
Striking didn't listen to a word he said, much more absorbed in examining his pretty new thing. Galaxy was going to be so jealous that she didn't have a pretty feather.
Decepticon babies are nightmares to babysit. They cycle through so many sitters Striking doesn't even bother with names or even numbers anymore.
So, Quasar, second sparkling of Starscream and Nova, and a mech with a passion for throwing things at people. Looks a lot like his dad, where his sister is more of a blend of her parents, slightly favoring her mother. I think he's . . . their youngest? Ahead of Meissa and Behemoth.
Behemoth is a massive, totally sweet mech. He's the sparkling of Ironbunker, a massive but quiet Decepticon femme, and Acid Rain, a Vehicon with a spotchy paint job from an incident with, well, acid. No one is really sure why never tried to fix it, he's just kind of weird. These two are the last of Nova's group of weirdos. Acid Rain and Discord are basically brothers, with Rain being the mode reasonable of the two and Discord being . . . well, his name incarnate.