Things Regained - A story in 28 prompts
May. 7th, 2009 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceIt was to be epic, a long spanning novel to bring poets to tears and others to their knees.
But my braincell spazzed out, hit me with the reality bat and told me to take my 28 prompts and be happy with it.
Brought to you by: Bunny #2.
Also, I have three things to say.
One, I have finally watched 'The Princess Bride', and yes, it is very entertaining. Even if I did know the whole kit and caboodle before I even borrowed the DVD.
Two, Vizzini does sound like what I imagine Starscream to indignantly screech like. Much entertainment was had at this little discovery. Sadly, this was solo entertainment, because no one else in my house is familiar with G1.
Three, and this may earn me someone's undying enmity, but frag if Buttercup isn't the most useless female. Girl, you have a big, solid looking tree branch. Use it to beat in the ROUS's head, not poke the ugly rat into your honeybunch's face.
At least the show doesn't take itself seriously. Otherwise (and I hesitate to say this because I haven't read the series and am working off of what others tell me), I'd be wondering why they changed her name from 'Bella'. Eesh. He will come for me, he will come for me. *flounce flounce pine pine*
Title: Things Regained - A story in 28 prompts
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13 to M for implications
Warnings: TF cussing.
1. Naughty
Untouchable, that’s what he was. And the whole lawkeeping force knew it. Some shook their heads in weary, if amused, resignation. Others ranted for a bit until the older hands nudged them into shutting up, usually by dint of pointing out a few pertinent things.
Such as the fact that he kept Praxus smooth running and relatively disturbance free, all by his lonesome. That allowed him his entertainments, one of which was watching the authorities try and fail to pin anything on him.
Prowl smiled, watching the newbie lawkeeper glare at him from across the street, his more senior partner shooting the black and white mech a rueful grin before gently steering the trainee in the other direction.
2. Happy
//I’m back.//
The message had been brief, a short two words, but it sent him into a flurry of pacing as he tried to control himself. Around him his cassettes watched in amusement, some just as happy as he was, but Primus himself couldn’t have made them admit it.
Looking up, Soundwave laughed. It was time to go to his mech.
3. Silly
“Prow- Whoa. Looks like someone decided to check out the whole video store.”
“Hardly. These are just the titles I’ve been hearing about ad nauseum from the twins, Bluestreak, Blaster, Bumblebee and you yourself ever since we woke up on Earth.”
“So… you’re going to go build a bonfire in retaliation?”
“No. But now that I can finally appreciate them, I’m going to watch them. And hopefully, laugh myself silly in the process.”
“…Oh.”
“Would you like to join me and Soundwave, Jazz?”
“Frag yes.”
4. Angsty
He hadn’t always worn a visor and a face shield. Nor had his voice always been this inflectionless monotone. But until Prowl could feel emotions again, Soundwave would show his own to no one.
5. On-Vacation
“So, how’s the vacation feel so far, ‘Lert?”
“Perfectly wonderful, thanks for asking us along.”
“I’m surprised you agreed to come.”
“I needed the break, Soundwave. All that time with the chip in my head…”
“Wonder how the Ark’s doing without their SIC and security director.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re coping.”
“Prowl.”
“Yes, Inferno?”
“You set up pranks to go off once we were good and clear of the Ark, didn’t you.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t worry, ‘Ferno. I made sure all the security vids from the moment we left would be backed up in a secure location. Now, lie down and let me continue enjoying this 'vacation' thing.”
“Heh. As you wish, Red.”
6. Horny
It was undignified, and it made his cassettes grumble at all the thoughts in the ‘do not want’ category he inadvertently let slip to them (Blaster’s team was probably snickering at their misfortune, adding to their irritation), but frag if seeing the two black and white mechs entwined on his berth, beckoning to him with matching smirks didn’t bring Soundwave’s coolant to a slow boil.
7. Transforming
It was astonishing, to see how Prowl’s smile as he swept a blue and white mech into his arms transformed him. Even more stunning was the laughter issuing from Soundwave, and the visor and face shield lying discarded on the ground behind the once Decepticon.
8. Excited
Soundwave snickered at the mech staring into the box he held, the contents of which he’d gathered from their shattered former life together and kept first as a memory, then against this day. Doorwings quivered, and from behind the panels a visored mech remarked, “Prowler, if you had a tail, it’d be wagging. What’s in the box?”
His tactician shot him a very pleased expression, before reaching for and tugging Jazz over. As the Ops mech laid visor on his precious cargo, a similar grin dawned on the Porsche’s face.
“I’ll make sure we have a simulator room to ourselves after our duty shift.”
Prowl laughed, then purred into the saboteur’s audio. “You do know the quickest way to a mech’s spark.”
“Yeah. Right through the chestplates, especially with one of these beauties.” Jazz purred back, smirking as he reverently caressed the numerous blades carefully arranged in the case.
9. Book-Reading
“Grimlock, what have I said about you and the Dinobots attacking the other Autobots?” Optimus sighed, sounding weary as the T-Rex dutifully replied.
“Fighting Autobots makes trouble. Trouble makes more work for Prime’s SIC.”
“And when I have too much work, what happens?” Prowl spoke up, derailing the Autobot leader’s pondering of why exactly Grimlock would be concerned about making more work for the tactician.
“No story time for Dinobots because Prowl need to finish work.”
“Do you want to have to wait another week to find out what else Red Chief does to Bill and Sam?”
“No. Story interesting. Dinobots like him Chief.”
“You would.” Optimus stared at his SIC. Was that a smile? “Then, no more fighting?”
“Grimlock swear. Other Dinobots also.”
“Good.”
As the large mech left his office, the Prime turned to Prowl and raised an optic ridge. The black and white mech glanced at him and shrugged.
“I really should have tried this much earlier.”
10. Dancing
The movements were smooth, almost completely spontaneous. And that stopped him in his tracks. Around him were other mechs in similar states, all staring at the two figures in the training room. That Jazz would be moving like this was a given, the mech never did anything without incorporating some rhythm or flash, but Prowl?
Prowl couldn’t fight hand to hand. He could handle himself in a fight, yes, but his tactical programs and logic chips ran the risk of locking up from trying to analyse all the millions of constantly changing variables involved in a close combat spar. At least, that was what they’d thought, until the mech had crashed spectacularly and babbled something unintelligible to all but Jazz, and the Ops mech had had to explain everything to an incredulous Ark.
At least Prowl’s behaviour leading up to this point finally made sense.
But still, their SIC and head tactician was not supposed to be a frontliner. Yet… the Datsun was meeting and matching the Porsche, a mech whose fighting style required an almost instinctive response to defend against, both black and whites practically dancing around each other.
Slag the ‘Con that planted that chip in Prowl’s head.
11. Jealous
He really should have known better. They’d been together for a long time, and he’d been the recent addition, the latecomer, probably a mere experimental dalliance before Prowl had gotten chipped and Soundwave had taken off for the ‘Cons, nursing a broken spark. Not that he regretted helping the tactician, the mech was someone he’d come to care for, but realistically, he knew Prowl had always belonged to someone else. But fraggit if he wasn’t-
Two mechs entered his quarters, interrupting his thoughts as one slipped arms around him, pressing lips to a sensor horn, murmuring softly as the other smiled in agreement.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous, Jazz.”
12. Turned-On
He tilted his head back, allowing another black and white mech access to his neck cables, while a visorless and maskless tape deck ran clever hands over his chassis in ways that made his systems turn over and hum with pleasure. He returned the favour, drawing purrs and sighs from his two companions, and the Ops mech reflected that tonight was going to be a good night.
As Prowl smirked and suddenly pinned him against Soundwave, who took advantage of his position to immobilise his arms, Jazz wiggled in an indecent manner, pouting cheekily at the tactician practically devouring him with his optics. A very good night indeed.
13. Caring
“I thought you’d hurt him, bad, s’why he was so fragging cold when I ran into him in the Autobots. And then I found out you were with the ‘Cons.”
“I thought he’d abandoned me. I joined them because they were against the Autobots, at first to get back at him, then later because I found out an Autobot did this to him.”
“He didn’t ditch you.”
“I know now. I should have known then.”
“How could you have? Anyway, about that other matter. Sorry it took me a while to dig up the info, but here.”
“… Shockwave.”
“Yeah. Once called Longarm. Defected to the ‘Cons once Megs started making noise about conquering other planets for energy.”
“Thank you for taking care of Prowl.”
“No worries. I liked him before, and I liked you too. And I know we can get him back. I swear it.”
14. On-His-Knees
He fell, clutching his helm as his processors tried and failed to handle the information fed to them. It had taken vorns, vorns of slowly stressing the chip with Jazz’s help, damaging it a little more each time he fritzed out. Vorns of being set back when his own programming started working around the lock ups, adapting to them and granting the damnable chip continued control over his responses.
But now they were on their last circuits, he could feel old routines and programming coming back, could feel things he’d been forced to give up, could say things he’d been unable to voice, and just before the chip went out in a blaze of glory and crashed him for the last time, could finally grab Jazz and gasp, “Red Alert… Chipped too…”
15. Obedient
The procedure was a success. The black and white mech, once the lawkeepers’ bane, now a perfectly useful individual. Every command and directive, carried out in close to perfect order. A pity, to have to sacrifice some of what had made this mech’s plans so exceptional get this degree of compliance. Even greater pity was that complete obedience was not possible without reducing the bot to a complete drone, negating his tactical abilities and rendering the chevroned mech useless for his purposes.
He sat back and allowed himself a short gloat. Before him stood Prowl, finally brought to heel, fulfilling his intended function.
16. Dominant
Prowl fought, but eventually had to give in. The chip overrode everything he tried, forcing every emotion he felt through his logic circuits, overloading them and forcing him to shut down. He hated it, being dominated by a piece of tech no bigger than his thumb, but getting angry only made him fritz now.
Better to direct his energy towards figuring out a way to overcome this.
17. Naive
He stared at his hands, glanced at his console where blueprints and data were displayed, and cringed. How could he have been so foolish? Clenching his fists, he spun ‘round and smashed the screen, shattering it, then crumpled to the ground, heedless of the damage he’d done to himself.
Someone entered his lab, and gently began to tend to his injured digits. He pulled away, but pale hands held his own firm, and he sobbed his guilt into a white shoulder.
“Perceptor, you did not know Shockwave would expand upon your work for such a purpose.”
“It was a path I should have never have considered in the first place! Taking another’s will like that!”
“You were hoping to spare the lives of criminals. A naïve outlook, granted, but well intentioned. And you stopped once you realised it would mean reforming them by force. I refuse to believe you wanted this to happen.”
“I didn’t, I swear I didn’t!”
“I know. Now, we need you. Red Alert’s chip was the precursor to mine. Shockwave tested the process on him first, counting on his paranoia glitch to conceal the truth from everyone else. You know the technology best. Help us remove it from him.”
The microscope looked up at the tactician, expression slowly growing determined, and he nodded.
18. Drinking-Energon
They were here again. The two gorgeous mechs with gorgeous voices, sitting at their usual table, two cubes of the good stuff before them. He turned, directing a lazy smile at the pair before ascending the stage. They always came when he performed, and he always performed when they dropped by, both parties discretely flirting over the space between entertainer and audience.
This time, however, a third cube had made an appearance by the end of his set. He tilted his helm in silent query, and the blue and white mech smirked, and the black and white one performed a similar head tilt, also smiling. The implication was obvious.
Yours, if you want it.
Engine purring, Jazz sauntered over.
19. Greedy
The others would never go for his plan. Unethical, they called it. Dangerous.
What did they know.
A priceless resource, a mech with such ability. The criminal should be in their hands where he could be best used, instead of allowed to run free, picking and choosing who to aid with his skills and resources. Should be in his hands, bringing the army, Cybertron, him, glory.
And so, Longarm began to plot.
20. Daring
He couldn’t disobey directly. He glitched if he did. So the only way he could escape his keeper’s grasp was to switch one leash holder for another.
The best part was that Sentinel Prime didn’t realise he was Prowl’s new ‘master’ (it was logical, the Prime would be best served by Prowl’s talents, and Prowl would be best utilised in that position). Prowl would never tell him, could not, and his former handler wouldn’t either or immediately be found out. Sentinel was a decent mech, for which he was grateful, but truthfully, anyone would be better than Longarm.
It was a risky thing to do, plotting against the mech who’d taken his emotions, making him a slave to logic and reason, Longarm’s reason, but Prowl didn’t come by his reputation as a master plotter by sticking to safe routes and tested paths.
And really, he knew that if could still appreciate it, this would have been one of his most enjoyable gambits.
21. Exploring
Routine patrol. And for some reason, he’d gotten stuck with Prowl for it. Not that he disliked the mech, but the SIC wasn’t exactly the most engaging company. Hound sighed and transformed as the checkpoint came back into view, Prowl doing the same a step behind him.
When the mech didn’t follow him immediately, the Jeep turned and saw that the Datsun was watching the sunset. The tracker walked back, puzzled. Prowl had never cared much for such things, even on Cybertron.
“It’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”
The holographer startled, looking at the setting star with surprise. As far as Earth sunsets went, this one was a poor specimen, washed out and partially blocked by trees. But Prowl was looking at it like it was the first sunset he’d seen, ever.
“There’s a good spot to view them a short way from the Ark. I found it while exploring one day. … Do you want the coordinates and route?”
The black and white mech shook his head, smiling faintly (another strange thing), before returning to his usual passive state.
“Thank you, Hound. But I think these places should be discovered on one’s own. I have some leave stored up. Maybe I’ll go exploring one day, like you do.”
Smiling back, still a little thrown by Prowl’s behaviour (and by how fitting he found the tactician’s comment about finding places), Hound nodded, then transformed to continue with the patrol.
22. At The Beach
It was at the Praxian viewing deck of the Rust Sea that he first saw the mech. Encouraged by his symbiotes, who picked up on hisfixation interest and eventually got sick of it (they called it mooning, the sparklings), he gathered the courage to attempt tracking the doorwinged mech down to talk to him.
Imagine his surprise when Prowl showed up at his doorstep with a smirk and tickets to a performance by an entertainer Soundwave particularly liked.
23. Bath-Time
“Prowl?”
“Yes, Jazz?”
“What are you doing in the shower racks? Smokescreen’s gonna be taking bets on whether you’ve drowned in a minute.”
The black and white mech turned his helm up to the spray of liquid, letting it run down his faceplates, dripping along cheek seams and pooling in the hollow of his optics.
“The humans can do this thing. Crying, I believe it’s called.”
“… You want to cry?” Inwardly, Jazz rejoiced at the failing of another portion of the chip’s control, but he also worried about why the mech before him wanted to carry out what seemed like a depressing function, and it showed in the concerned tone he used. The Datsun smiled, tilting his head back further, shuttering his optics.
“You can cry tears of joy too, Jazz.”
24. Dishevelled
Jazz found him in his quarters, watching the recording of Praxus being destroyed. He frowned. Prowl didn’t so much as dim an optic, standing there calm and impassive.
“Y’know, I thought you had a spark under all that armour. Looks like I was mistaken. There is something wrong with you.”
The doorwinged mech turned to regard him, and Jazz noted that the distinctive panels were trembling noticeably.
“Prowl?”
“Jazz, I… I can’t-” The tactician staggered, and the Ops mech was grabbing hold of him, calling his name and shaking his frame.
“J-jack in. CPU. Deep scan.”
“Prowl, you can’t be fragging serious, I should be getting the medics!”
“Now! C-an’t stay… like this. You want… wh’s wrong? Jack in.”
The Ops head did so, nearly fumbling the connection. What he found stunned him. Something was routing data irregularly in Prowl’s systems, forcing it through circuits that had no business processing them. A warning flashed at him, and Jazz got out just as the chevroned mech crashed, going limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, slipping to the ground in an untidy heap.
25. Exhausted
Ratchet glared at the visored mech who came into his med bay. He was incredibly tired, Red Alert’s surgery and subsequent monitoring had been complex, even with Perceptor helping, but he could muster the strength for this, anger giving him the energy to stay upright just a little longer.
“You could have told me.”
“Prowl said not to. And with him crashing each time I even mentioned the chip, I thought it was better I didn’t argue.”
“Yet you tell me frying his ‘logic circuits’ was what freed him from the chip’s control.”
“Well, we didn’t know it was helping at first. Processor crashes are something we normally want to avoid, and it’s not a good idea to put the SIC out of commission too often or for too long. ‘Specially with the war in full swing. But Prowl managed a laugh after a really bad crash, and that got me to thinking, and I did a little poking about his cerebral circuitry. Found the chip was starting to break down a little each time Prowl's head fried.”
“Why not just remove the chip once you found out about it?”
“We didn’t know what it’d do to Prowl. It’d been in his head for a long while before I twigged, and all the data I’d managed to dig up said it was never meant to be removed. He’d adjusted to what it did, and undoing it so suddenly… Dunno, could’ve just crashed him, could have fried his circuits permanent-like. Safer to kill it slowly; give him time to adjust back.”
“Then I reiterate the point that you could have come to me.”
“Ratch’, not that we don’t trust you’d have had solved this faster than we could have, but ‘you needed to concentrate on the injured’ and you ‘work too hard as it is’. And at the time, we kinda needed Prowl to be his level headed, restrained self.”
“Stubborn glitch.”
Jazz sighed, grinning in commiseration. “Isn’t he just?”
26. Well-Shagged
Prowl nuzzled the blue helm pressed into his chestplates tenderly. Even in exhausted recharge, the mech held onto him like he was going to disappear. Behind him, an arm slung across his midsection to contact Soundwave’s frame, Jazz murmured with sated amusement that it really was the quiet ones one had to look out for.
27. Kick-Ass
“Hello. My name is Prowl. You killed my emotions. Prepare to die.”
Jazz almost stalled when he heard the mech next to him say those words, turning to look incredulously (he wasn’t the only one either) at the tactician. Then he did stall, though only for a second when Prowl proceeded to beat Shockwave into the ground, a look of savage glee on his faceplates.
He caught Soundwave’s gaze across the battlefield, then shrugged and joined the telepath as both helped Prowl with his long awaited act of revenge.
28. Playing With Kids
“Uh oh.”
“Jazz?”
“Brace y’self, Prowler.”
“Wha- Oof!”
“Told ya.”
Prowl just glared up from where he was pinned by several cassettes, then smirked and pointed at the laughing and now scrambling away saboteur, commanding the smaller bots on him to “Attack!”
Prowl burst out laughing when he heard the Porsche yelp. “Soundwave! No fair joining in!”
But my braincell spazzed out, hit me with the reality bat and told me to take my 28 prompts and be happy with it.
Brought to you by: Bunny #2.
Also, I have three things to say.
One, I have finally watched 'The Princess Bride', and yes, it is very entertaining. Even if I did know the whole kit and caboodle before I even borrowed the DVD.
Two, Vizzini does sound like what I imagine Starscream to indignantly screech like. Much entertainment was had at this little discovery. Sadly, this was solo entertainment, because no one else in my house is familiar with G1.
Three, and this may earn me someone's undying enmity, but frag if Buttercup isn't the most useless female. Girl, you have a big, solid looking tree branch. Use it to beat in the ROUS's head, not poke the ugly rat into your honeybunch's face.
At least the show doesn't take itself seriously. Otherwise (and I hesitate to say this because I haven't read the series and am working off of what others tell me), I'd be wondering why they changed her name from 'Bella'. Eesh. He will come for me, he will come for me. *flounce flounce pine pine*
Title: Things Regained - A story in 28 prompts
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13 to M for implications
Warnings: TF cussing.
1. Naughty
Untouchable, that’s what he was. And the whole lawkeeping force knew it. Some shook their heads in weary, if amused, resignation. Others ranted for a bit until the older hands nudged them into shutting up, usually by dint of pointing out a few pertinent things.
Such as the fact that he kept Praxus smooth running and relatively disturbance free, all by his lonesome. That allowed him his entertainments, one of which was watching the authorities try and fail to pin anything on him.
Prowl smiled, watching the newbie lawkeeper glare at him from across the street, his more senior partner shooting the black and white mech a rueful grin before gently steering the trainee in the other direction.
2. Happy
//I’m back.//
The message had been brief, a short two words, but it sent him into a flurry of pacing as he tried to control himself. Around him his cassettes watched in amusement, some just as happy as he was, but Primus himself couldn’t have made them admit it.
Looking up, Soundwave laughed. It was time to go to his mech.
3. Silly
“Prow- Whoa. Looks like someone decided to check out the whole video store.”
“Hardly. These are just the titles I’ve been hearing about ad nauseum from the twins, Bluestreak, Blaster, Bumblebee and you yourself ever since we woke up on Earth.”
“So… you’re going to go build a bonfire in retaliation?”
“No. But now that I can finally appreciate them, I’m going to watch them. And hopefully, laugh myself silly in the process.”
“…Oh.”
“Would you like to join me and Soundwave, Jazz?”
“Frag yes.”
4. Angsty
He hadn’t always worn a visor and a face shield. Nor had his voice always been this inflectionless monotone. But until Prowl could feel emotions again, Soundwave would show his own to no one.
5. On-Vacation
“So, how’s the vacation feel so far, ‘Lert?”
“Perfectly wonderful, thanks for asking us along.”
“I’m surprised you agreed to come.”
“I needed the break, Soundwave. All that time with the chip in my head…”
“Wonder how the Ark’s doing without their SIC and security director.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re coping.”
“Prowl.”
“Yes, Inferno?”
“You set up pranks to go off once we were good and clear of the Ark, didn’t you.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t worry, ‘Ferno. I made sure all the security vids from the moment we left would be backed up in a secure location. Now, lie down and let me continue enjoying this 'vacation' thing.”
“Heh. As you wish, Red.”
6. Horny
It was undignified, and it made his cassettes grumble at all the thoughts in the ‘do not want’ category he inadvertently let slip to them (Blaster’s team was probably snickering at their misfortune, adding to their irritation), but frag if seeing the two black and white mechs entwined on his berth, beckoning to him with matching smirks didn’t bring Soundwave’s coolant to a slow boil.
7. Transforming
It was astonishing, to see how Prowl’s smile as he swept a blue and white mech into his arms transformed him. Even more stunning was the laughter issuing from Soundwave, and the visor and face shield lying discarded on the ground behind the once Decepticon.
8. Excited
Soundwave snickered at the mech staring into the box he held, the contents of which he’d gathered from their shattered former life together and kept first as a memory, then against this day. Doorwings quivered, and from behind the panels a visored mech remarked, “Prowler, if you had a tail, it’d be wagging. What’s in the box?”
His tactician shot him a very pleased expression, before reaching for and tugging Jazz over. As the Ops mech laid visor on his precious cargo, a similar grin dawned on the Porsche’s face.
“I’ll make sure we have a simulator room to ourselves after our duty shift.”
Prowl laughed, then purred into the saboteur’s audio. “You do know the quickest way to a mech’s spark.”
“Yeah. Right through the chestplates, especially with one of these beauties.” Jazz purred back, smirking as he reverently caressed the numerous blades carefully arranged in the case.
9. Book-Reading
“Grimlock, what have I said about you and the Dinobots attacking the other Autobots?” Optimus sighed, sounding weary as the T-Rex dutifully replied.
“Fighting Autobots makes trouble. Trouble makes more work for Prime’s SIC.”
“And when I have too much work, what happens?” Prowl spoke up, derailing the Autobot leader’s pondering of why exactly Grimlock would be concerned about making more work for the tactician.
“No story time for Dinobots because Prowl need to finish work.”
“Do you want to have to wait another week to find out what else Red Chief does to Bill and Sam?”
“No. Story interesting. Dinobots like him Chief.”
“You would.” Optimus stared at his SIC. Was that a smile? “Then, no more fighting?”
“Grimlock swear. Other Dinobots also.”
“Good.”
As the large mech left his office, the Prime turned to Prowl and raised an optic ridge. The black and white mech glanced at him and shrugged.
“I really should have tried this much earlier.”
10. Dancing
The movements were smooth, almost completely spontaneous. And that stopped him in his tracks. Around him were other mechs in similar states, all staring at the two figures in the training room. That Jazz would be moving like this was a given, the mech never did anything without incorporating some rhythm or flash, but Prowl?
Prowl couldn’t fight hand to hand. He could handle himself in a fight, yes, but his tactical programs and logic chips ran the risk of locking up from trying to analyse all the millions of constantly changing variables involved in a close combat spar. At least, that was what they’d thought, until the mech had crashed spectacularly and babbled something unintelligible to all but Jazz, and the Ops mech had had to explain everything to an incredulous Ark.
At least Prowl’s behaviour leading up to this point finally made sense.
But still, their SIC and head tactician was not supposed to be a frontliner. Yet… the Datsun was meeting and matching the Porsche, a mech whose fighting style required an almost instinctive response to defend against, both black and whites practically dancing around each other.
Slag the ‘Con that planted that chip in Prowl’s head.
11. Jealous
He really should have known better. They’d been together for a long time, and he’d been the recent addition, the latecomer, probably a mere experimental dalliance before Prowl had gotten chipped and Soundwave had taken off for the ‘Cons, nursing a broken spark. Not that he regretted helping the tactician, the mech was someone he’d come to care for, but realistically, he knew Prowl had always belonged to someone else. But fraggit if he wasn’t-
Two mechs entered his quarters, interrupting his thoughts as one slipped arms around him, pressing lips to a sensor horn, murmuring softly as the other smiled in agreement.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous, Jazz.”
12. Turned-On
He tilted his head back, allowing another black and white mech access to his neck cables, while a visorless and maskless tape deck ran clever hands over his chassis in ways that made his systems turn over and hum with pleasure. He returned the favour, drawing purrs and sighs from his two companions, and the Ops mech reflected that tonight was going to be a good night.
As Prowl smirked and suddenly pinned him against Soundwave, who took advantage of his position to immobilise his arms, Jazz wiggled in an indecent manner, pouting cheekily at the tactician practically devouring him with his optics. A very good night indeed.
13. Caring
“I thought you’d hurt him, bad, s’why he was so fragging cold when I ran into him in the Autobots. And then I found out you were with the ‘Cons.”
“I thought he’d abandoned me. I joined them because they were against the Autobots, at first to get back at him, then later because I found out an Autobot did this to him.”
“He didn’t ditch you.”
“I know now. I should have known then.”
“How could you have? Anyway, about that other matter. Sorry it took me a while to dig up the info, but here.”
“… Shockwave.”
“Yeah. Once called Longarm. Defected to the ‘Cons once Megs started making noise about conquering other planets for energy.”
“Thank you for taking care of Prowl.”
“No worries. I liked him before, and I liked you too. And I know we can get him back. I swear it.”
14. On-His-Knees
He fell, clutching his helm as his processors tried and failed to handle the information fed to them. It had taken vorns, vorns of slowly stressing the chip with Jazz’s help, damaging it a little more each time he fritzed out. Vorns of being set back when his own programming started working around the lock ups, adapting to them and granting the damnable chip continued control over his responses.
But now they were on their last circuits, he could feel old routines and programming coming back, could feel things he’d been forced to give up, could say things he’d been unable to voice, and just before the chip went out in a blaze of glory and crashed him for the last time, could finally grab Jazz and gasp, “Red Alert… Chipped too…”
15. Obedient
The procedure was a success. The black and white mech, once the lawkeepers’ bane, now a perfectly useful individual. Every command and directive, carried out in close to perfect order. A pity, to have to sacrifice some of what had made this mech’s plans so exceptional get this degree of compliance. Even greater pity was that complete obedience was not possible without reducing the bot to a complete drone, negating his tactical abilities and rendering the chevroned mech useless for his purposes.
He sat back and allowed himself a short gloat. Before him stood Prowl, finally brought to heel, fulfilling his intended function.
16. Dominant
Prowl fought, but eventually had to give in. The chip overrode everything he tried, forcing every emotion he felt through his logic circuits, overloading them and forcing him to shut down. He hated it, being dominated by a piece of tech no bigger than his thumb, but getting angry only made him fritz now.
Better to direct his energy towards figuring out a way to overcome this.
17. Naive
He stared at his hands, glanced at his console where blueprints and data were displayed, and cringed. How could he have been so foolish? Clenching his fists, he spun ‘round and smashed the screen, shattering it, then crumpled to the ground, heedless of the damage he’d done to himself.
Someone entered his lab, and gently began to tend to his injured digits. He pulled away, but pale hands held his own firm, and he sobbed his guilt into a white shoulder.
“Perceptor, you did not know Shockwave would expand upon your work for such a purpose.”
“It was a path I should have never have considered in the first place! Taking another’s will like that!”
“You were hoping to spare the lives of criminals. A naïve outlook, granted, but well intentioned. And you stopped once you realised it would mean reforming them by force. I refuse to believe you wanted this to happen.”
“I didn’t, I swear I didn’t!”
“I know. Now, we need you. Red Alert’s chip was the precursor to mine. Shockwave tested the process on him first, counting on his paranoia glitch to conceal the truth from everyone else. You know the technology best. Help us remove it from him.”
The microscope looked up at the tactician, expression slowly growing determined, and he nodded.
18. Drinking-Energon
They were here again. The two gorgeous mechs with gorgeous voices, sitting at their usual table, two cubes of the good stuff before them. He turned, directing a lazy smile at the pair before ascending the stage. They always came when he performed, and he always performed when they dropped by, both parties discretely flirting over the space between entertainer and audience.
This time, however, a third cube had made an appearance by the end of his set. He tilted his helm in silent query, and the blue and white mech smirked, and the black and white one performed a similar head tilt, also smiling. The implication was obvious.
Yours, if you want it.
Engine purring, Jazz sauntered over.
19. Greedy
The others would never go for his plan. Unethical, they called it. Dangerous.
What did they know.
A priceless resource, a mech with such ability. The criminal should be in their hands where he could be best used, instead of allowed to run free, picking and choosing who to aid with his skills and resources. Should be in his hands, bringing the army, Cybertron, him, glory.
And so, Longarm began to plot.
20. Daring
He couldn’t disobey directly. He glitched if he did. So the only way he could escape his keeper’s grasp was to switch one leash holder for another.
The best part was that Sentinel Prime didn’t realise he was Prowl’s new ‘master’ (it was logical, the Prime would be best served by Prowl’s talents, and Prowl would be best utilised in that position). Prowl would never tell him, could not, and his former handler wouldn’t either or immediately be found out. Sentinel was a decent mech, for which he was grateful, but truthfully, anyone would be better than Longarm.
It was a risky thing to do, plotting against the mech who’d taken his emotions, making him a slave to logic and reason, Longarm’s reason, but Prowl didn’t come by his reputation as a master plotter by sticking to safe routes and tested paths.
And really, he knew that if could still appreciate it, this would have been one of his most enjoyable gambits.
21. Exploring
Routine patrol. And for some reason, he’d gotten stuck with Prowl for it. Not that he disliked the mech, but the SIC wasn’t exactly the most engaging company. Hound sighed and transformed as the checkpoint came back into view, Prowl doing the same a step behind him.
When the mech didn’t follow him immediately, the Jeep turned and saw that the Datsun was watching the sunset. The tracker walked back, puzzled. Prowl had never cared much for such things, even on Cybertron.
“It’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”
The holographer startled, looking at the setting star with surprise. As far as Earth sunsets went, this one was a poor specimen, washed out and partially blocked by trees. But Prowl was looking at it like it was the first sunset he’d seen, ever.
“There’s a good spot to view them a short way from the Ark. I found it while exploring one day. … Do you want the coordinates and route?”
The black and white mech shook his head, smiling faintly (another strange thing), before returning to his usual passive state.
“Thank you, Hound. But I think these places should be discovered on one’s own. I have some leave stored up. Maybe I’ll go exploring one day, like you do.”
Smiling back, still a little thrown by Prowl’s behaviour (and by how fitting he found the tactician’s comment about finding places), Hound nodded, then transformed to continue with the patrol.
22. At The Beach
It was at the Praxian viewing deck of the Rust Sea that he first saw the mech. Encouraged by his symbiotes, who picked up on his
Imagine his surprise when Prowl showed up at his doorstep with a smirk and tickets to a performance by an entertainer Soundwave particularly liked.
23. Bath-Time
“Prowl?”
“Yes, Jazz?”
“What are you doing in the shower racks? Smokescreen’s gonna be taking bets on whether you’ve drowned in a minute.”
The black and white mech turned his helm up to the spray of liquid, letting it run down his faceplates, dripping along cheek seams and pooling in the hollow of his optics.
“The humans can do this thing. Crying, I believe it’s called.”
“… You want to cry?” Inwardly, Jazz rejoiced at the failing of another portion of the chip’s control, but he also worried about why the mech before him wanted to carry out what seemed like a depressing function, and it showed in the concerned tone he used. The Datsun smiled, tilting his head back further, shuttering his optics.
“You can cry tears of joy too, Jazz.”
24. Dishevelled
Jazz found him in his quarters, watching the recording of Praxus being destroyed. He frowned. Prowl didn’t so much as dim an optic, standing there calm and impassive.
“Y’know, I thought you had a spark under all that armour. Looks like I was mistaken. There is something wrong with you.”
The doorwinged mech turned to regard him, and Jazz noted that the distinctive panels were trembling noticeably.
“Prowl?”
“Jazz, I… I can’t-” The tactician staggered, and the Ops mech was grabbing hold of him, calling his name and shaking his frame.
“J-jack in. CPU. Deep scan.”
“Prowl, you can’t be fragging serious, I should be getting the medics!”
“Now! C-an’t stay… like this. You want… wh’s wrong? Jack in.”
The Ops head did so, nearly fumbling the connection. What he found stunned him. Something was routing data irregularly in Prowl’s systems, forcing it through circuits that had no business processing them. A warning flashed at him, and Jazz got out just as the chevroned mech crashed, going limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, slipping to the ground in an untidy heap.
25. Exhausted
Ratchet glared at the visored mech who came into his med bay. He was incredibly tired, Red Alert’s surgery and subsequent monitoring had been complex, even with Perceptor helping, but he could muster the strength for this, anger giving him the energy to stay upright just a little longer.
“You could have told me.”
“Prowl said not to. And with him crashing each time I even mentioned the chip, I thought it was better I didn’t argue.”
“Yet you tell me frying his ‘logic circuits’ was what freed him from the chip’s control.”
“Well, we didn’t know it was helping at first. Processor crashes are something we normally want to avoid, and it’s not a good idea to put the SIC out of commission too often or for too long. ‘Specially with the war in full swing. But Prowl managed a laugh after a really bad crash, and that got me to thinking, and I did a little poking about his cerebral circuitry. Found the chip was starting to break down a little each time Prowl's head fried.”
“Why not just remove the chip once you found out about it?”
“We didn’t know what it’d do to Prowl. It’d been in his head for a long while before I twigged, and all the data I’d managed to dig up said it was never meant to be removed. He’d adjusted to what it did, and undoing it so suddenly… Dunno, could’ve just crashed him, could have fried his circuits permanent-like. Safer to kill it slowly; give him time to adjust back.”
“Then I reiterate the point that you could have come to me.”
“Ratch’, not that we don’t trust you’d have had solved this faster than we could have, but ‘you needed to concentrate on the injured’ and you ‘work too hard as it is’. And at the time, we kinda needed Prowl to be his level headed, restrained self.”
“Stubborn glitch.”
Jazz sighed, grinning in commiseration. “Isn’t he just?”
26. Well-Shagged
Prowl nuzzled the blue helm pressed into his chestplates tenderly. Even in exhausted recharge, the mech held onto him like he was going to disappear. Behind him, an arm slung across his midsection to contact Soundwave’s frame, Jazz murmured with sated amusement that it really was the quiet ones one had to look out for.
27. Kick-Ass
“Hello. My name is Prowl. You killed my emotions. Prepare to die.”
Jazz almost stalled when he heard the mech next to him say those words, turning to look incredulously (he wasn’t the only one either) at the tactician. Then he did stall, though only for a second when Prowl proceeded to beat Shockwave into the ground, a look of savage glee on his faceplates.
He caught Soundwave’s gaze across the battlefield, then shrugged and joined the telepath as both helped Prowl with his long awaited act of revenge.
28. Playing With Kids
“Uh oh.”
“Jazz?”
“Brace y’self, Prowler.”
“Wha- Oof!”
“Told ya.”
Prowl just glared up from where he was pinned by several cassettes, then smirked and pointed at the laughing and now scrambling away saboteur, commanding the smaller bots on him to “Attack!”
Prowl burst out laughing when he heard the Porsche yelp. “Soundwave! No fair joining in!”
