Mission - Introductions
Nov. 26th, 2008 12:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceMission bunny was particularly aggravating over this chapter (I ended up rewriting it about five times). I think it's because there was no smut.
Title: Mission - Introductions
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission'verse.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Canon and characterisation butchering. TF cussing
As far as first meetings went, theirs could have been worse. Prowl had been informed that he was getting a room mate, and a cycle later was helping said room mate move in. Not that there was much to move in, one didn’t bring a great deal to the Academy, and the average bot didn’t need much by way of personal effects in the first place.
The newcomer was friendly enough. He introduced himself and then tried to make conversation. Prowl attempted to reciprocate, but his replies felt awkward, and both of them eventually lapsed into silence, studying each other across the room.
Prowl, having seen (and helped arrange) his room mate’s collection of music and things that looked like they would be rather noisy, grimaced inwardly as his tactical programming calculated the odds of them getting along. He preferred the quiet, and was rather reserved, partly due to his inhibited social protocols, and this mech seemed his exact opposite.
It seemed that his room mate thought the same. After dealing Prowl’s side of the room a long, studied look, taking in the neat, orderly and almost Spartan display, the visored mech sank down onto his new berth and sighed (and here both mechs started at the oddly loud interruption of their scrutiny of the other).
“We’re gonna hate each other, aren’t we.”
Prowl could only nod in weary resignation.
= = =
“So… what’s your story?” Prowl glanced over at his room mate. Contrary to both their worst expectations, they’d managed to coexist rather peacefully over the last decacycle. Neither one of them had wanted to be in this situation, but both accepted there was little they could do about it. Conflict would only make things harder for themselves, and so for most part, they were civil to each other, and didn’t interact if they could help it.
“I’m in Tactics.” His room mate huffed, sounding a little exasperated.
“I know that, I was hoping for more detail. We’re room mates now; it’d help to be able to relate to each other, even a little. But it seems like you go out of your way to avoid even making a connection.”
“I apologise. I did not intend to give offence.” His doors flicked uncertainly. Situations like this unsettled him, he never quite knew how to react, and tended to keep his responses as short as possible to end things quickly. But Jazz (for that was his room mate’s name) didn’t seem to give up as easily as most others.
“Oh for frag’s sake, Prowl. I wasn’t offended or nothing.” Jazz appeared to be less exasperated and more puzzled now. Prowl kept silent, watching his room mate trying to figure the chevroned mech out.
“Y’know, your file said you didn’t play well with others. I had no idea it was this bad.”
“That’s… how did you get my file?!”
“Hacked it.” The visored mech’s nonchalant answer was accompanied by an odd, tight sort of smile. Prowl frowned, and made the expected protest.
“That’s against the rules.”
“I’m in Ops. We make our own rules.”
As inept at social cues as Prowl was, even he could pick up on the mech’s defensive posturing. And his instructors often said that Special Ops were a separate breed altogether. His tactical programs calculated the best response, based on what he knew of the Ops personnel and their ways. “Be that as it may be, you shouldn’t be so blatant about it! You told me you read my file when you could have said you heard about it from any random bot. It’s not like my flaws are a secret.”
“Why? You gonna tell anyone else?” The challenge was obvious in Jazz’s tone, and Prowl realised that this was all a test of sorts.
“… No.” Jazz smirked, and the tactical mech could not hold back an annoyed twitch of his door wings. “You’ve read my file; surely you can come to the conclusion that I’ve few avenues to spread such tales to.”
“You could tell the authorities.”
“I am not a narc. I have enough to deal with as it is.” At his acerbic reply, the visored mech relaxed slightly, easing up on Prowl and sighing in resignation.
“I hear you. Got transferred up, just like you. And for pretty valid reasons, just like you, but that doesn’t stop them, does it?” A tiny glimmer of solidarity sparked in Jazz’s optics. Prowl took the admission for the peace offering it was, picking up on the Ops mech’s feeling of camaraderie, and nodded in agreement.
“Why did you ask though? It’s not like you need me to tell you anything else after hacking into my records.”
“Your file only says so much, like you got transferred up and you have a creator in civil defense, lawkeepers division, but facts are facts, it’s all the stuff behind them that I’m interested in. And that’s something I’d rather you told me ‘cos you wanted to.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then I leave you be, and we can ignore each other for the rest of our time here if you wish.”
“I see.”
“So?”
“I’d rather not make my life any more difficult than it is right now, and it would be preferable that we got along, particularly in such close quarters as we now share.”
“I’d like that too. So, let’s start over. What’s your story?”
Silence fell as Prowl considered how to begin. Jazz smiled, taking pity on him.
“Look, I’ll start off if it makes it easier. I can’t room with my old batch ‘cos of the transfer, but the upper ranks of Ops trainees all got their own groups set and I can’t cut in. Wish they hadn’t bumped me up.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t you take pride in your promotion?”
“In addition to all the resentment issues, I’m going to be the FNB, and they’ll think I’m overstepping my bounds and being cocky and argh, I’m most likely gonna have to run solo, and that’s going to be real fun.” Jazz slumped backwards on his berth before continuing.
“But why’d you get a roomie alla sudden? Tactician trainees are few enough that you all can get your own quarters, and you’ve always had the room to yourself.” Prowl sighed. Jazz had hacked his file; so perhaps he wouldn’t be put off by his answer.
“The powers that be decided I needed a room mate to ‘socialise’ me.”
The Ops trainee frowned. “That’s mighty high handed of them. Sorry for messing up your solitude.”
“You can’t help it any more than I can. I can see that they have a point.” Prowl replied, and Jazz marvelled at how calmly the mech was taking the meddling in his affairs.
“My social programming is… improperly developed. As a tactician, I will be increasing the risk factor for the bots following my plans if I am unable to earn their trust. I am unsure as to whether my programming can be improved much at this stage, but if the individuals in charge wish to try, I find no reason to object. I do apologise that you were not asked.”
“What were you going to do if I hadn’t come along?”
“I was going to concentrate on ensuring that my abilities are beyond fault, so that those who would follow my plans will at least have confidence in them. I still will.”
“Oh… s’a good plan.”
“Thank you, Jazz.” There was the faintest hint of amusement in Prowl’s expression, and Jazz had to laugh at himself for his response.
“But really, I’m willing to help you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No problem, not like I’m getting nothing out of this. You heard me just now. Ops training is going to be the Pit, I’d like someone on my side. You’re smart, and a tactician, which makes it even better.”
“Are you asking me to be your friend?”
“Well, I’d be content with an ally, or at least a neutral non-judgemental face I can rant about my fellow trainees to. But friends would be good. So, what do you say?”
“I am agreeable, and I thank you for your help.” Gratitude was evident in Prowl’s optics, and the visored mech ducked his head, slightly abashed.
“No problem. S’what friends are for, right?”
Title: Mission - Introductions
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission'verse.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Canon and characterisation butchering. TF cussing
As far as first meetings went, theirs could have been worse. Prowl had been informed that he was getting a room mate, and a cycle later was helping said room mate move in. Not that there was much to move in, one didn’t bring a great deal to the Academy, and the average bot didn’t need much by way of personal effects in the first place.
The newcomer was friendly enough. He introduced himself and then tried to make conversation. Prowl attempted to reciprocate, but his replies felt awkward, and both of them eventually lapsed into silence, studying each other across the room.
Prowl, having seen (and helped arrange) his room mate’s collection of music and things that looked like they would be rather noisy, grimaced inwardly as his tactical programming calculated the odds of them getting along. He preferred the quiet, and was rather reserved, partly due to his inhibited social protocols, and this mech seemed his exact opposite.
It seemed that his room mate thought the same. After dealing Prowl’s side of the room a long, studied look, taking in the neat, orderly and almost Spartan display, the visored mech sank down onto his new berth and sighed (and here both mechs started at the oddly loud interruption of their scrutiny of the other).
“We’re gonna hate each other, aren’t we.”
Prowl could only nod in weary resignation.
= = =
“So… what’s your story?” Prowl glanced over at his room mate. Contrary to both their worst expectations, they’d managed to coexist rather peacefully over the last decacycle. Neither one of them had wanted to be in this situation, but both accepted there was little they could do about it. Conflict would only make things harder for themselves, and so for most part, they were civil to each other, and didn’t interact if they could help it.
“I’m in Tactics.” His room mate huffed, sounding a little exasperated.
“I know that, I was hoping for more detail. We’re room mates now; it’d help to be able to relate to each other, even a little. But it seems like you go out of your way to avoid even making a connection.”
“I apologise. I did not intend to give offence.” His doors flicked uncertainly. Situations like this unsettled him, he never quite knew how to react, and tended to keep his responses as short as possible to end things quickly. But Jazz (for that was his room mate’s name) didn’t seem to give up as easily as most others.
“Oh for frag’s sake, Prowl. I wasn’t offended or nothing.” Jazz appeared to be less exasperated and more puzzled now. Prowl kept silent, watching his room mate trying to figure the chevroned mech out.
“Y’know, your file said you didn’t play well with others. I had no idea it was this bad.”
“That’s… how did you get my file?!”
“Hacked it.” The visored mech’s nonchalant answer was accompanied by an odd, tight sort of smile. Prowl frowned, and made the expected protest.
“That’s against the rules.”
“I’m in Ops. We make our own rules.”
As inept at social cues as Prowl was, even he could pick up on the mech’s defensive posturing. And his instructors often said that Special Ops were a separate breed altogether. His tactical programs calculated the best response, based on what he knew of the Ops personnel and their ways. “Be that as it may be, you shouldn’t be so blatant about it! You told me you read my file when you could have said you heard about it from any random bot. It’s not like my flaws are a secret.”
“Why? You gonna tell anyone else?” The challenge was obvious in Jazz’s tone, and Prowl realised that this was all a test of sorts.
“… No.” Jazz smirked, and the tactical mech could not hold back an annoyed twitch of his door wings. “You’ve read my file; surely you can come to the conclusion that I’ve few avenues to spread such tales to.”
“You could tell the authorities.”
“I am not a narc. I have enough to deal with as it is.” At his acerbic reply, the visored mech relaxed slightly, easing up on Prowl and sighing in resignation.
“I hear you. Got transferred up, just like you. And for pretty valid reasons, just like you, but that doesn’t stop them, does it?” A tiny glimmer of solidarity sparked in Jazz’s optics. Prowl took the admission for the peace offering it was, picking up on the Ops mech’s feeling of camaraderie, and nodded in agreement.
“Why did you ask though? It’s not like you need me to tell you anything else after hacking into my records.”
“Your file only says so much, like you got transferred up and you have a creator in civil defense, lawkeepers division, but facts are facts, it’s all the stuff behind them that I’m interested in. And that’s something I’d rather you told me ‘cos you wanted to.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then I leave you be, and we can ignore each other for the rest of our time here if you wish.”
“I see.”
“So?”
“I’d rather not make my life any more difficult than it is right now, and it would be preferable that we got along, particularly in such close quarters as we now share.”
“I’d like that too. So, let’s start over. What’s your story?”
Silence fell as Prowl considered how to begin. Jazz smiled, taking pity on him.
“Look, I’ll start off if it makes it easier. I can’t room with my old batch ‘cos of the transfer, but the upper ranks of Ops trainees all got their own groups set and I can’t cut in. Wish they hadn’t bumped me up.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t you take pride in your promotion?”
“In addition to all the resentment issues, I’m going to be the FNB, and they’ll think I’m overstepping my bounds and being cocky and argh, I’m most likely gonna have to run solo, and that’s going to be real fun.” Jazz slumped backwards on his berth before continuing.
“But why’d you get a roomie alla sudden? Tactician trainees are few enough that you all can get your own quarters, and you’ve always had the room to yourself.” Prowl sighed. Jazz had hacked his file; so perhaps he wouldn’t be put off by his answer.
“The powers that be decided I needed a room mate to ‘socialise’ me.”
The Ops trainee frowned. “That’s mighty high handed of them. Sorry for messing up your solitude.”
“You can’t help it any more than I can. I can see that they have a point.” Prowl replied, and Jazz marvelled at how calmly the mech was taking the meddling in his affairs.
“My social programming is… improperly developed. As a tactician, I will be increasing the risk factor for the bots following my plans if I am unable to earn their trust. I am unsure as to whether my programming can be improved much at this stage, but if the individuals in charge wish to try, I find no reason to object. I do apologise that you were not asked.”
“What were you going to do if I hadn’t come along?”
“I was going to concentrate on ensuring that my abilities are beyond fault, so that those who would follow my plans will at least have confidence in them. I still will.”
“Oh… s’a good plan.”
“Thank you, Jazz.” There was the faintest hint of amusement in Prowl’s expression, and Jazz had to laugh at himself for his response.
“But really, I’m willing to help you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No problem, not like I’m getting nothing out of this. You heard me just now. Ops training is going to be the Pit, I’d like someone on my side. You’re smart, and a tactician, which makes it even better.”
“Are you asking me to be your friend?”
“Well, I’d be content with an ally, or at least a neutral non-judgemental face I can rant about my fellow trainees to. But friends would be good. So, what do you say?”
“I am agreeable, and I thank you for your help.” Gratitude was evident in Prowl’s optics, and the visored mech ducked his head, slightly abashed.
“No problem. S’what friends are for, right?”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 03:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 03:08 pm (UTC)and sorry my comment isn't grand, I'm still waking up.
^^
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 04:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 05:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 08:49 pm (UTC)I want more.
I is sleepy...
Go bed.
Leaves cookies out for author.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 09:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 12:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 04:49 am (UTC)its kinda cuteFriends indeed! And the world will never be the same! XD (and I'd agree with tessombra...as much as the romance is fun, good interaction & backstory is in many ways much better. also with much more potential for mischief)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 05:56 am (UTC)And Prowl has me squeeing with glee in this one! I think you capture him so very, very well. I really enjoy this young uncertain Prowl.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 10:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 10:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 10:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 10:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 11:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 11:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 11:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 11:03 am (UTC)oh yes, very cuteYeah, the world had better look out, we got one incorrigible miscreant on the loose with the heavy processing power to back him up. ^_^(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-26 11:04 am (UTC)