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Dec '08 PxJ challenge - Where there is darkness, light
For the December '08 Christmas Challenge on the PxJ comm.
Corbeau: A shade of blackish green (why yes, I am a geek)
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dark_daebereth, your penguin has started to peck at my brain. Please to be taking away?
Title: Corbeau
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Hunter Green
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF Cussing.
Prompt: Where there is darkness, light
Sometimes, he wakes up from recharge shaking, Megatron’s laughter echoing over and over, and the darkness of his room presses on him. He isn’t too sure why. He’s never dealt with Megatron in the dark. Even when he was in their mainframe, he could see through the security feeds. All the way up ‘till when he was…
He doesn’t like to think of the moment the delete command was activated, and the cable was torn and he was cut off. It felt like he was being torn in two, existing in two places at the same time, before he knew no more. The next time he woke as himself, he was in the med bay.
The memories of when his mind was input into this chassis, without a spark, are hazy and he feels strangely detached from them, as if viewing them from someone else’s optics. No, not exactly. Viewing Prowl’s memories had been different. The memories of his spark-less self feel like a vid recording, devoid of emotion, of meaning.
It’s difficult to explain.
He knows Skyfire is worried. But he doesn’t know how to reassure the mech. Isn’t sure where to begin to describe what happens. He’s not afraid of the dark. He isn’t. He goes into recharge just fine with the lights off. But when the laugh wakes him, the darkness seems to immobilise him, and he can’t even move to get the switch, or cry out (And it sounds so very illogical and ridiculous, he’s embarrassed to even tell Skyfire that). So he stays on his berth, with the dim glow of his optics that fades when he shutters them.
So he doesn’t shutter them.
And he doesn’t recharge.
= = =
“Evening Prowl, could I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course. Please, come in.”
As the shuttle ducked through the doorway into his quarters, Prowl put away the reports he’d been reading and then turned to look at the larger mech.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Skyfire hesitated briefly, then sighed. “It’s Hunter. He’s not recharging well. Bluestreak mentioned you helped him with his own problems, and I was wondering if you had any insight to offer.”
Puzzled, the tactician queried further. “Has Hunter told you why he can’t recharge?”
“… All he says is that it’s nothing, and that he’s not afraid of the dark. I’ve checked and he deals just fine with it. Until he wakes in the middle of the night.”
“Have you tried staying with him during his recharge cycle?”
“He refuses to let me.”
“Ah. Understandable. May I discuss this with Jazz? He helped me with Bluestreak.”
Another hesitation, before the larger mech nodded. “… Alright.”
= = =
Jazz tilted his head in consideration. “Huh. The kid’s still having a rough time?”
Prowl cycled air tiredly, pacing across the floor of Jazz’s quarters. “It is not beyond reason. Bluestreak still has troubles even now. Speaking of which, I should speak to him about it as well.”
“And Hunter won’t tell Skyfire what’s bothering him.”
“He says it’s nothing.”
“Don’t mean a thing, Prowler. Youngling’s got a stubborn streak, and a tendency to hide what he sees are weaknesses.” Jazz smiled at the other black and white mech. “Wonder where he gets that from.”
At Prowl’s little smile at his teasing, the Porsche rose off his berth and crossed to hold the tactician. “If Skyfire can’t get him to talk, what makes you think I can?”
“He trusts you. And you’ve gotten Bluestreak to talk when I am unable to.”
“Hm. I’ll try then.”
= = =
“Hey, Hunter!” The sound of his name being called pulled the green mech from his bookfile.
“Jazz?”
“One and only, kid. Hear you have troubles with recharging?”
“Skyfire told you.” Jazz hid a wince at the blank tone the youngling used.
“He’s only worried about you.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark.” The Porsche sighed at the stubborn declaration.
“Never said you were. What then?”
When Hunter remained silent, Jazz prodded him lightly in the side, eliciting a tickled squirm.
“No one’s gonna make fun of you, even if it is the dark.”
“It’s not!”
“You’re not the only one with recharge issues. You know Blue’s got them. Most of us in the Ark have woken up mid-cycle one time or another, sparks near jumping out of the casing.”
“It’s nothing.”
“‘Nothing’ is spooking you enough to wake you in the middle of the night. That makes it something, in my opinion.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nuh uh. It’s something. Hunter.” The Spec Ops mech crouched down, optic to visor, in front of the youngling. “And that something’s got ‘Fire in a worry-fit. Maybe it really is nothing, and you’ll get over it on your own in a month or two, but you’re not recharging well, and it’s affecting your systems. Telling us might help you get over it faster.”
The green mech sighed. “It’s stupid.”
“I won’t laugh.” Hunter flinched, and Jazz shuttered optics in surprise, before outrage seized him.
“Someone’s laughing at you? Who?!”
“No! No one’s laughing at me.” At the determined glare from the black and white mech, the youngling gave in and elaborated. “Like I said. It’s nothing, and very stupid. I hear… Megatron’s laughter. Sometimes. In recharge. It wakes me and I can’t speak or move very much when it does, so I can’t get the lights and the dark presses and I don’t know why and… and… It’s ridiculous, I know.”
A hand laid itself on his helm in a comforting manner. “Hunter. It’s alright. We’re gonna find a way to help you, ‘kay?”
The youngling nodded, but remained silent and staring at his bookfile until Jazz left.
= = =
When the Porsche told Skyfire and Prowl, the shuttle frowned, unable to figure out why laughter would make the youngling wake from recharge. The tactician shuttered his optics, going over the memories he had from Hunter before looking up at the other two, expression troubled.
“Megatron laughed as Hunter was removed from me. That is one factor accounted for. But the issue with the dark… When I was captured, one of their favoured methods was to disable my optics and the sensors in my doors before administering a beating. I couldn’t tell when they were going to strike, or where. If I moved, or made a sound outside of crying out when a blow landed, I’d get struck again immediately.”
Jazz took his hand, squeezing it briefly, and the tactician shot him a grateful look before he continued. “When I uploaded the data accrued by Hunter during his occupation of my CPU to his own processors, I also included the memory files of my own that he accessed, to keep his mind as intact as possible. However, I left out the ones he saw regarding my treatment by the Decepticons.”
Skyfire nodded. “I agree that he doesn’t need them.”
“But I couldn’t avoid every mention of them without affecting part of his memories at the same time. And thus it seems they are still affecting him, only he does not know why.”
“Perhaps he could have even those 'mentions' blocked or removed?” Jazz asked, and the shuttle sighed.
“I’m hesitant to bring up the idea to him. He’s had his mind rearranged so many times already, and it would be a violation of his self once more.”
“Right. Next plan then.” The Porsche nodded determinedly, and the other two mechs stared at him in apprehension.
“Next plan?” Prowl queried.
“It won’t hurt nothing. Promise.”
= = =
“Hunter, catch!”
Instinctively, the youngling snatched the object hurtling towards his face at alarmingly high speed out of the air. Looking at the gaily wrapped package, he glanced back up at Jazz, who was grinning widely at him.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s for you, bitling! I’m declaring it your birthday. Now go on and open it!”
The Ops mech’s enthusiasm had the green mech understandably wary. Carefully, he unwrapped the object to find… a large stuffed penguin.
With a soft, floppy red chevron.
And a silvery cloth band for a visor.
The obvious not-traditionally-part-of-a-penguin additions boggled his processors until he realised that Jazz had given him the present. The mech snickered at his expression. “S’from me and Prowl. Black and white, like us, and a chevron like Prowler, and a visor, though not quite as stylish, like yours truly.”
“… Thank you?”
“Y’welcome. Now, squeeze its flipper. The right one.”
Hunter did as told, and nearly dropped the penguin when it laughed. Briefly shuttering his optics at the plush toy, he looked back at Jazz in confusion. The Porsche snickered. “Do it again.”
Obediently, he did so, and a very familiar laugh issued this time. “Is that…?”
“Skyfire? Yep. I recorded laughs from nearly every mech on the Ark. It lights up too. I would’ve just gotten it to laugh, but the toy company that makes them has them do both, and Wheeljack blew up the first one when I asked him to get rid of the lighting up bit.”
Hunter stared at the penguin (and he now noticed its belly was glowing faintly in the light of the room), then looked back at the other mech, hugging the penguin close, trying to hide a smile in the soft plush. “You’re a horrible liar, Jazz, but thanks.”
Hunter had little trouble with recharge after that.
Corbeau: A shade of blackish green (why yes, I am a geek)
dark_daebereth, your penguin has started to peck at my brain. Please to be taking away?Title: Corbeau
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Hunter Green
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF Cussing.
Prompt: Where there is darkness, light
Sometimes, he wakes up from recharge shaking, Megatron’s laughter echoing over and over, and the darkness of his room presses on him. He isn’t too sure why. He’s never dealt with Megatron in the dark. Even when he was in their mainframe, he could see through the security feeds. All the way up ‘till when he was…
He doesn’t like to think of the moment the delete command was activated, and the cable was torn and he was cut off. It felt like he was being torn in two, existing in two places at the same time, before he knew no more. The next time he woke as himself, he was in the med bay.
The memories of when his mind was input into this chassis, without a spark, are hazy and he feels strangely detached from them, as if viewing them from someone else’s optics. No, not exactly. Viewing Prowl’s memories had been different. The memories of his spark-less self feel like a vid recording, devoid of emotion, of meaning.
It’s difficult to explain.
He knows Skyfire is worried. But he doesn’t know how to reassure the mech. Isn’t sure where to begin to describe what happens. He’s not afraid of the dark. He isn’t. He goes into recharge just fine with the lights off. But when the laugh wakes him, the darkness seems to immobilise him, and he can’t even move to get the switch, or cry out (And it sounds so very illogical and ridiculous, he’s embarrassed to even tell Skyfire that). So he stays on his berth, with the dim glow of his optics that fades when he shutters them.
So he doesn’t shutter them.
And he doesn’t recharge.
= = =
“Evening Prowl, could I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course. Please, come in.”
As the shuttle ducked through the doorway into his quarters, Prowl put away the reports he’d been reading and then turned to look at the larger mech.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Skyfire hesitated briefly, then sighed. “It’s Hunter. He’s not recharging well. Bluestreak mentioned you helped him with his own problems, and I was wondering if you had any insight to offer.”
Puzzled, the tactician queried further. “Has Hunter told you why he can’t recharge?”
“… All he says is that it’s nothing, and that he’s not afraid of the dark. I’ve checked and he deals just fine with it. Until he wakes in the middle of the night.”
“Have you tried staying with him during his recharge cycle?”
“He refuses to let me.”
“Ah. Understandable. May I discuss this with Jazz? He helped me with Bluestreak.”
Another hesitation, before the larger mech nodded. “… Alright.”
= = =
Jazz tilted his head in consideration. “Huh. The kid’s still having a rough time?”
Prowl cycled air tiredly, pacing across the floor of Jazz’s quarters. “It is not beyond reason. Bluestreak still has troubles even now. Speaking of which, I should speak to him about it as well.”
“And Hunter won’t tell Skyfire what’s bothering him.”
“He says it’s nothing.”
“Don’t mean a thing, Prowler. Youngling’s got a stubborn streak, and a tendency to hide what he sees are weaknesses.” Jazz smiled at the other black and white mech. “Wonder where he gets that from.”
At Prowl’s little smile at his teasing, the Porsche rose off his berth and crossed to hold the tactician. “If Skyfire can’t get him to talk, what makes you think I can?”
“He trusts you. And you’ve gotten Bluestreak to talk when I am unable to.”
“Hm. I’ll try then.”
= = =
“Hey, Hunter!” The sound of his name being called pulled the green mech from his bookfile.
“Jazz?”
“One and only, kid. Hear you have troubles with recharging?”
“Skyfire told you.” Jazz hid a wince at the blank tone the youngling used.
“He’s only worried about you.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark.” The Porsche sighed at the stubborn declaration.
“Never said you were. What then?”
When Hunter remained silent, Jazz prodded him lightly in the side, eliciting a tickled squirm.
“No one’s gonna make fun of you, even if it is the dark.”
“It’s not!”
“You’re not the only one with recharge issues. You know Blue’s got them. Most of us in the Ark have woken up mid-cycle one time or another, sparks near jumping out of the casing.”
“It’s nothing.”
“‘Nothing’ is spooking you enough to wake you in the middle of the night. That makes it something, in my opinion.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nuh uh. It’s something. Hunter.” The Spec Ops mech crouched down, optic to visor, in front of the youngling. “And that something’s got ‘Fire in a worry-fit. Maybe it really is nothing, and you’ll get over it on your own in a month or two, but you’re not recharging well, and it’s affecting your systems. Telling us might help you get over it faster.”
The green mech sighed. “It’s stupid.”
“I won’t laugh.” Hunter flinched, and Jazz shuttered optics in surprise, before outrage seized him.
“Someone’s laughing at you? Who?!”
“No! No one’s laughing at me.” At the determined glare from the black and white mech, the youngling gave in and elaborated. “Like I said. It’s nothing, and very stupid. I hear… Megatron’s laughter. Sometimes. In recharge. It wakes me and I can’t speak or move very much when it does, so I can’t get the lights and the dark presses and I don’t know why and… and… It’s ridiculous, I know.”
A hand laid itself on his helm in a comforting manner. “Hunter. It’s alright. We’re gonna find a way to help you, ‘kay?”
The youngling nodded, but remained silent and staring at his bookfile until Jazz left.
= = =
When the Porsche told Skyfire and Prowl, the shuttle frowned, unable to figure out why laughter would make the youngling wake from recharge. The tactician shuttered his optics, going over the memories he had from Hunter before looking up at the other two, expression troubled.
“Megatron laughed as Hunter was removed from me. That is one factor accounted for. But the issue with the dark… When I was captured, one of their favoured methods was to disable my optics and the sensors in my doors before administering a beating. I couldn’t tell when they were going to strike, or where. If I moved, or made a sound outside of crying out when a blow landed, I’d get struck again immediately.”
Jazz took his hand, squeezing it briefly, and the tactician shot him a grateful look before he continued. “When I uploaded the data accrued by Hunter during his occupation of my CPU to his own processors, I also included the memory files of my own that he accessed, to keep his mind as intact as possible. However, I left out the ones he saw regarding my treatment by the Decepticons.”
Skyfire nodded. “I agree that he doesn’t need them.”
“But I couldn’t avoid every mention of them without affecting part of his memories at the same time. And thus it seems they are still affecting him, only he does not know why.”
“Perhaps he could have even those 'mentions' blocked or removed?” Jazz asked, and the shuttle sighed.
“I’m hesitant to bring up the idea to him. He’s had his mind rearranged so many times already, and it would be a violation of his self once more.”
“Right. Next plan then.” The Porsche nodded determinedly, and the other two mechs stared at him in apprehension.
“Next plan?” Prowl queried.
“It won’t hurt nothing. Promise.”
= = =
“Hunter, catch!”
Instinctively, the youngling snatched the object hurtling towards his face at alarmingly high speed out of the air. Looking at the gaily wrapped package, he glanced back up at Jazz, who was grinning widely at him.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s for you, bitling! I’m declaring it your birthday. Now go on and open it!”
The Ops mech’s enthusiasm had the green mech understandably wary. Carefully, he unwrapped the object to find… a large stuffed penguin.
With a soft, floppy red chevron.
And a silvery cloth band for a visor.
The obvious not-traditionally-part-of-a-penguin additions boggled his processors until he realised that Jazz had given him the present. The mech snickered at his expression. “S’from me and Prowl. Black and white, like us, and a chevron like Prowler, and a visor, though not quite as stylish, like yours truly.”
“… Thank you?”
“Y’welcome. Now, squeeze its flipper. The right one.”
Hunter did as told, and nearly dropped the penguin when it laughed. Briefly shuttering his optics at the plush toy, he looked back at Jazz in confusion. The Porsche snickered. “Do it again.”
Obediently, he did so, and a very familiar laugh issued this time. “Is that…?”
“Skyfire? Yep. I recorded laughs from nearly every mech on the Ark. It lights up too. I would’ve just gotten it to laugh, but the toy company that makes them has them do both, and Wheeljack blew up the first one when I asked him to get rid of the lighting up bit.”
Hunter stared at the penguin (and he now noticed its belly was glowing faintly in the light of the room), then looked back at the other mech, hugging the penguin close, trying to hide a smile in the soft plush. “You’re a horrible liar, Jazz, but thanks.”
Hunter had little trouble with recharge after that.