I'm Stuck Between A Wretch And A King

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by exoduselita, Feb 26, 2012.

  1. exoduselita

    exoduselita CHRIS HUMPHRIES!!!!

    Joined:
    Aug 15, 2011
    Posts:
    648
    Trophy Points:
    101
    Likes:
    +0
    Okay, so this is just a story I cooked up in my head. I Love the character Elita-one and she is lacking appearances in Transformers so I decided to MAKE an appearance for her in Transformers Prime. This takes place during Season 2. But this is Just a flashback Prologue.





    PROLOGUE




    Elita-one~

    MY name was Ariella, but most knew me by Ariel. I once lived in a world filled with intelligent mechanical beings. We were once a peaceful race though evil did lurk and linger in the dark just waiting to be set free. Due to our once vastly systematized society, that evil was put into hiding and became unknown. Castes were our stone in history; a whopping wall filibustering the road to each person's dream. It was like hard steel and gold impossible to crumble and invincibility obvious in the strong-hold of its stay.

    Each person was either ill-fated in a low-caste or exceedingly auspicious in a high-caste. I was one of the few who were providential. But I did start out as an analyzer who worked in the higher parts in the Hall of Records. The data that the data clerks catalogue was sent to us and we'd analyze the entries to see if we could find any focal statistics that could be of use. My job wasn't the least bit difficult or monotonous. I got to learn new mesmerizing material everyday….it was okay I deduce. It may not have been a reverie-job that femmes like me vision at the end of every cycle. But after a while my parents were titled as nobles and I was moved to work in a higher-caste. My father became the right hand mech of Sentinel Prime and my mother as head of the medical center.

    As a noble, one would assume my life being perfect, well they better think again. My family was like its own war that we fought every cycle. Problem is that the battles were usually over before I even got to situate on my armor. Turmoil coils back into its hole, reading itself for another counter attack. I was a noble, not a princess and it wasn't a fairytale. It was just reality while theory was just imagination thought upon. Sometimes I admit to my spark that I used to think I was just better off gone and vanished off that despondent, wretched planet. But I remember someone told me a long time ago to be careful what I wish for because I just might get it all, and maybe some that I don't want.

    Though I don't remember much from my past I remember a lot of sayings someone must have told me. A long time ago when I was born, I had a life that I can't summon up. Something unscrupulous must have happened for me to wake up and not remember any of it, until now…. Surly there was some kind of accident that corrupted up my memory. I just am starting to remember the early years of my life in shuffled events. Sometimes unexpectedly I do peculiar things I never knew I could do. One of which was to know how to fight. And let me tell you, I was adequately virtuous when I hammered the lighted optics out of him, but we'll get to that later.

    Too bad for me I didn't get this ability until after I needed it the most.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Ariel~ Things not remembered.

    Life's like this and that's the way it is. My life isn't like that and I take what I get and turn into something I can work with. It always seems like the same old day happens over and over again and time drifting on and on over days. The aroma of peace has faded out of its constant scent that used to drench my armor with such delight. A rancid odor settled down in its absence to bring turmoil and chaos to my people who live without restraint. My once organized, civilized friends and my malevolent enemies seem to all become one and attack against me. Loved ones perished while resented foes gained. Why does it always seem Primus has turned his back on us? Was he tired of watching his creations ruin their future because of their sheer stupidity? I for one believe that this war we fight isn't because of wrong actions or stupidity, but some deep ignorance of ones electrified spark. Megatron truly believed he was right while we autobots were dreadfully wrong for letting this go as far as it did. We should have acted right when we discovered the resistance he began.

    He turned good 'bots into cruel barbarians that mirrored the wickedness of his own spark, and who willingly helped abolish and demolish our beautiful planet filled with innocent lives. His energon-shot optics shown with the brightest red pupils that represented the appearance of an evil monstrosity. No, this is not a horror story but plain out reality that may surprise you with stories of the Unfortunate. But sometimes I like to think that this is all one big dream and reality is sure not far away, which it isn't, it's right in front of my face even if I choose to deny it. Lately, I've had to watch my back and I never can relax without having to worry about a decepticon incursion. Sometimes I crawl and breakdown under the pressure of his frustration. I can be strong and I can be tough, but with him it's not like that at all. Although he stole my spark and he's the one to blame for my loyalty, everything has never felt this bad.

    Just last month, the council announced Orion Pax as our new Prime and Leader. Megatron was furious at this decision and went berserk, for he believed he was the rightful ruler of Cybertron. After the trail he gathered up a legion of rebels and made his first attack at Six Lasers; my most precious sanctuary of enjoyment. I went there whenever I needed to get away from my overly pampered life. Once in a while my minuscule feet would drag my petite frame to the amusement park and I would obnoxiously ride all the adrenaline-rushed rides until my tanks lurch over and I blew up chunks. I guess I just like the free brush of the wild wind when it grinded past my face, like probing blades just missing the target. Then, I never knew that the experience with real blades was as horrible as it came to be and I wish I wasn't as naïve as I was.

    The crowd was brought into pandemonium. "Bots were darting there and here, bullets passed through one person to another, and screams echoed like a long tunnel before most of them were extinguished by a plasma shot. It was pure agony to my spark and I grew furious with the destruction of my sacred place. I hated those decepticons for corrupting the civilization. I hated those decepticons for razing my cities. And I loathed those decepticons for slaughtering my nearest and dearest. At some stage in the beginning of the War my spark was polluted with so much hatred that I didn't even know what love was anymore. I stopped smiling and I stopped frowning. A tight line became perminite on my face like a scar that was welded onto my armor making a symbol. It stated-"I give up on me."

    Qualms swelled like bubbles and all there was, was foam inside of me, each bubble representing a fear. And as they water-felled off my mouth, they left behind scratches from there hidden propellers, scarring me within. But if I was capable of smiling at that time, he would be the only reason of my attempted redemption.

    I still remember the point in time when it all started to transform my life.
     
  2. ARCTrooperAlpha

    ARCTrooperAlpha Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 2, 2011
    Posts:
    1,418
    Trophy Points:
    126
    Likes:
    +1
    Ebay:
    shivering ~ nice start !
     
  3. exoduselita

    exoduselita CHRIS HUMPHRIES!!!!

    Joined:
    Aug 15, 2011
    Posts:
    648
    Trophy Points:
    101
    Likes:
    +0
    A/N -- Kay this is Chapter 1. I kind of rushed through this so I can get to the juicy parts so its not that good. I didn't want to spend to much time on the back history. But here it is. Enjoy ;) 

    And 'Prime Deception' from Fanfiction.net gave me the idea of Stupid-head hahaha. It was something we had a good laugh about a little while ago and I felt I had to put it in there for her.

    REVIEW PLEASE!

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    This fork in the road happens over a hundred times a day, and it's the choices that you make that will determine the shape of your life ~ Liz Murray

    --------------------------------




    My spark is like its own universe; its own story. An unwritten novel revealing its secrets gradually under the pressure of suffocating situations. Amiable voices are lost within the text, while cries of agony replace them. Living beings run back and forth trying to prevent a fallout, and the cost of other lives so precious to them. My optics meanders around the room, as I numbly watch half of my comrades perish off the face of our once beautiful Cybertron. Vulnerability burrows up against my processor as it obliterates my once before, strong faith. Guilt surpasses all of my other emotions, as I lay distraught transversely on the energon-stained floor.

    Just a single blow from the malicious, corrupt leader, who has the nerve to call himself Megatron, knocked me down instantaneously, for my weakness crept over me, forming a catastrophic covering. He looked down at me with a mocking grin, very pleased with his worthy accomplishment. Triumph seemed to pour down over him like a tidal wave, ready to take out anything in its path, with a single, fast crash. "Pity…it is really a pity that you have to suffer from your mates mistakes." He repeated into my audio receptor, his cold breath tickling me with shivers as unpleasant as Unicron himself. Then he stalked away leaving me to die here, painfully…and excruciating slow.

    Weakly I managed to pull my leaking body to my feet, and glancing quickly to each side making sure the coast was clear. Blue, white, and black. These were the cruel colors flashing across my eyes. Warm, blue liquid dripped down my limp body into a curious trail. Running as fast as my weak legs would take me, but the fuzzy white decreased my speed. Is this how it feels to leave? My sight is turning blurred every second while I'm tripping over my clumsy feet. I fall into a bed of darkness and the leaves wrap around suffocating me.

    I feel my shudders being closed making me eternally blind. Throbbing with another pain as I feel the life being washed out of me. My spark is dying beat by beat, falling as it's being pushed over by the current of my energon. Trying to fight my termination as I keep failing. Numb is the only thing I feel as I throb with another pain. A pain that didn't quite hurt physically, but the pain of feeling it. I was hurting knowing what was to become of me. The strength of darkness welled inside of me. It rapidly consumed me, and I blacked out.

    It seemed that I was at a different place at once. A memory appeared to groom my mind of its pain and it hit me like a tidal wave. Coming over me with a powerful force was the memory of the beginning and start of my life. When everything started to unravel into the future as it is today. The scene was so vivid and clear I felt myself living through it all over again. I let it consume my processor. I didn't refuse, I just welcomed it in. It was such a sweet, but painful memory.




    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    It all happened when I was proceeding to my part-time job as a bartender/waitress. All eyes were on me as I traveled the streets of Iacon. Any other 'bot would unequivocally fancy all the attention I got, but as for me; I despised it. Surely any other bot would agree that I wasn't worthy for such attention. But I had to admit I had a little fun with the people giving the attention.

    As I walked about the streets of Iacon I heard commotion. They were noises that sounded like laughter, jokes, and friendly conversations. Like most I loved the sound of happiness, such delight in this one emotion. Approaching nearer the voices grew louder and unfamiliar.

    Surprisingly, since the time I first placed my foot upon the hard, inured surface of Cybertron, I always had a cluster of friends following me around. The only people I knew personally were Chromia and Arcee. Other than that I was just a femme that people felt at ease when standing next to. Indomitable to identify these individuals I drew even nearer until they emerged into view. There were three 'bots. One turned out to be very familiar.

    Why it was Chromia! But on the other two were still alien. The blue/white striped one standing contiguous to Chromia was very diminutive and minuscule, but seemed to have a very out-spoken personality touched with a humorous attitude through his interactions. As for the other one, he was quit the handsome red-white being, though age sure caught up with him.

    I tried to sneak Chromia because I didn't want to get caught in an extensive, never-ending conversation when I was going to be dreadfully late for my job. I thought I was being exceptionally stealthy, but Chromia has the most outstanding acute eyesight and perceived me. She insistently called me to join them. Ever since I first meet Chromia, she always stuck close to me; very clingy. Most find this infuriating but I was a very patient 'bot and I guess that was the reason my body obeyed her invitation while my mind refused them.

    "Hey missy!" she greeted. Normally I would greet her the same way but my focus was on the striking 'bot standing adjacent to her. She leisurely followed my gaze and returned her optics to me with a grimace.

    "That's my mech-friend….if you were wondering." My focus snapped back on her at once.

    "Mech-friend?" That was weird. Since when did Chromia have a mech-friend? Not to be malicious or anything…but she wasn't the most charismatic person in personality. She was awfully loud, obnoxious, bossy, un-teachable, and sensitive. Did I say loud already? She is tremendously LOUD! You can say she was a vastly outspoken person. Frankly, I truly envied her. Why couldn't I be as brave as her? She never gets nervous for anybody. Not even for celebrities

    "Yes….mech-friend. I forgot to tell you-" She began but stopped.

    "…yeah, you did." I remarked glancing back up at him. He flashed me a nervous smile. I deliberately ignored it.

    "Er…I'm Ratchet." He introduced himself irresolutely, a hand out-stretched towards me. Trying to seem like I didn't care, I simply nodded at him. Turning my attention back to Chromia I noticed she alleviated up when I she saw that I had no Interest in him. The problem with this mental picture was that I was interested in him. Slightly. He did in fact look stunning and seemed like a my-kind-of 'bot.

    On the contrary, I don't date but I'm not alone, I'm independent and got my own. Anyway, I had to get going. It was my shift at the bar and pastry. Deckimonus would make me into junk if I was late again. Things around here were getting busier by the cycles.

    "Chromia-Ratchet. I'm sorry but I mustn't be late for work again. Punishments are cruel nowacycles."

    "What kind of Punishments? Aft-whooping?"

    "Worse…a red card."

    "What the pit is that?" She asked with confusion settling in her optics. Ratchet took a position so he was facing and talking to the smaller 'bot that was staring me down head to toe.

    "It means that I'm fired, dumb-aft…What you looking at?" I asked the little 'bot as Chromia glared at my smart comment. He met my optics with a wink as I winced. Ratchet caught his move and rolled his optics skyward and shook his head with exasperation.

    "Damn! I just found myself a nice, tall glass of energon." He uttered from below. I just stared at him for a moment before I asked as calmly as possible.

    "Who the PIT are you?"

    "Jazz is 'da name," he answered as he took a daring step forward so I looked directly down at him. His accent was the oddest voice I've ever encountered and I was a little intrigued by it, though one would call it very 'Ghetto'. Well what the heck…guess my day was going to start off interesting. I had 'bots come on to me but not as straightforwardly as this. I was in for some fun.

    "Jazz…fits your disposition. So tell me jazz, what can I do for you?"

    "Do for me?" He asked with an optic ridge lifted up into glee.

    "I assume you want something from me, Hmm? No one calls me a tall-what-not-glass of energon for 'nutin."

    "Unless he's an immature idiot." I turned to Ratchet who had appended his opinion. He was now holding a wrench in his hand and pointing it accusingly toward Jazz. On the other hand, jazz seemed not intimidated at all by his opposing threat. What an astro…..

    Wrench? Why would he have a wrench with him?

    "True, true. But I don't want anything…maybe just a tiny favor." Jazz continued his colloquy. I stared down at him suspicious. Chromia leaned in also, intent on hearing his words closer, and relaxing more in my presence. Before I suspected that she felt threatened that I was going to steal her mech or something. Whatever now…

    "What favor?" Chromia probed.

    "Well you see Ariel-"

    "How do you know my name?" I interrupted him. I had no idea who this 'bot even was but he knew who I was? What the pit? This is defiantly getting more stimulating.

    "That's part of the favor…."

    "How so? Jazz you're making no sense. Are you trying to irate her?" Ratchet cut in as he pulled Jazz's arm back trying to pull him away from me. Defiantly he shook his arm off as he straightened his posture and step back to the place he was before, and flashing a quick evil eye at Ratchet.

    "Step back doc bot. You'll ruin my paint job with those nasty hands."

    "I'll give you nasty hands…." Ratchet started to say but quieted down when Chromia gave him a look that said Stay-out-of-this. He obeyed meekly but with irascibility. I look down at my travel-time and saw that I was going to be a couple breems late if I didn't get my metal aft into gear.

    "Ariel could you please consider-"

    "Hold that thought, Jazz." I stopped him. "I really have to go."

    "Wait no I haven't even told you-"

    "Chromia I'll be at your quarters at late 8th sun but if I don't get there in time, don't wait up for me. I'll just meet you there." I turned halfway on my heels as I interrupted Jazz once again, and Ratchet was left calming him down before he had a sparkling fit.

    "Yeah, yeah. Don't have to worry about that last one. I won't wait up."

    "Your funny….Ratchet…Jazz. Was a pleasure to meet you, but Like I said earlier I must NOT be late for my job. I would like to keep it if you don't mind."

    "Not at all." Ratchet responded with courtesy while he cupped Jazz's mouth so he couldn't speak. His voice screamed in his hand but all that came out was muffled sounds. I fathom that what jazz had to say was something that I didn't want to hear, but I had a feeling that I would soon learn the 'favor'.

    I turned away and sprinted to the half pub as Chromia called, "See 'ya later!" Anyone that saw me would probably think I looked stupid running so fast instead of using my vehicle mode, but the short-cuts were too crowded for such travel and I couldn't afford to be late. Not after last time.

    I caught up just in time when Deckimonus was ready to switch shifts. He locked optics with me and nodded on as he walked back to the city for his second shift at his other job. Just for your information, I was in a very High-caste but by choice I worked at the bar. It gave me a chance to convene, and mingle with other mechs and femmes. With my other job as a Federal Officer in training, it is utterly boring. All I do is learn and practice, learn and practice, and learn and practice. Not much of a life if I say so myself.

    I dream of singing in front of streaming crowds. Entertaining 'bots around the globe and making a difference. I want to go to thousands of parties and joke around with my friends. And not have to worry about being classified into something you're not. Like that's going to happen. Keep dreaming Ariel.

    Swiftly I entered behind the table and readied up intoxicating drinks. I left a McAdam out for myself; I femme has to enjoy herself too. As I did so I heard a 'bot holler at me.

    "Hey lovely lady! How bout' you sit on this stool and I'll serve you a drink!" he suggested. I spun around in surprise. A short little mech was sitting halfway down to the back of the room staring at me with an amused mask, and his colors flashed with memorable familiarity. Blue and White stripes down his back and down his chassis. Jazz.

    That little monstrosity followed me to my job and I didn't even notice, or he beat me there. Either way that was just vexing and strange. What did this 'lil guy have up his sleeves? Something diabolical I presume, but I could be wrong. He wasn't very detailed when he was explaining to me his 'favor'. And I suppose I didn't even give him the chance to explain it anyway. Now he was here and determined to tell me what he needed to ask of me. Here we go…

    Deciding to play the same game he was starting off with, I responded viciously. "Or I can just take this drink right here and shove it down your throat and maybe that will turn me on. What do you say?" He winced, but he seemed to enjoy my reaction, and that's when I noticed the Looming mech sitting next to him drinking a light-grade. His shoulder appeared slumped like he didn't want to be seen and his head sulked down into his neck with Discomfiture.

    Vibrant colors of blues and reds rained down on his armor making his physique more majestic than it was already. Two hypersensitive antennas settled on his head like a king. Even though I hated to admit it, he was alluring in a way that words cannot describe. He had the whole package that included the bonuses of being well-built with elongated arms, gaunt jaw, wide-chest, and also very lofty.

    "'Dat sounds reasonable but there is only way to find out!" he started to push his friend to get out of his chair. Startled, he jumped up and hit his head on the light fixture above. I couldn't stop giggling as he clutched his head trying to relieve the stinging pain and then jump back up and hit the light again when he pressed to hard. "Yo! Orion my mech. Are 'yo alright?"

    "I'm fine….Hey, what did you push me for anyway?"

    "Look." He whispered, pointing in my direction. When his perplexed gaze landed on my shining, baby blue optics I smiled. His expression turned to confusion to flabbergasted, and I wasn't completely sure why. His face turned dull like he was seeing a ghost or something. He had the most abnormal horrified expression on and it made me cringe with bewilderment. Was he scared of me? I was flooded with confusion as it expanded over my face showing every detail of the sentiments that trekked through my processor.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Oh no!" Orion groaned as he slapped his hands to his face. "Jazz she's here."

    "No duh, smartie. That's why my heavy-duty hands had to push your puny little aft off that chair."

    "Heavy-duty and puny my aft." Orion remarked at Jazz's irony as he still had his head in his powerful hands.

    "Go talk to 'er, you pansy. Sitting here hidin' like a pathetic mech is ow' of the question or answer….whatever 'dat. But ya' can't just sit here while she stands over dar' smiling at you." Jazz tried to get his friend to walk over to Ariel.

    For a while now, Orion has had a massive crush on her, but he didn't have the guts to ask her out or at least converse with her. But it didn't matter because one of the absolute laws on Cybertron is that a Low-caste had no place to bond with a High-caste. Even though he wasn't thinking of bonding, that's were relationships usually led to. Not saying that's what he was thinking, but he felt there was no reason for such interactions if there was nothing that could come of it.

    "Yes I can and I will," Jazz glared at Orion with displeasure and he returned the look. "Besides, there is no point in that matter. She's High caste. In other words…way out of my league."

    "That's 'nut true at all. And I can give 'ya plenty of reasons to back 'dat up."

    "Really? I bet you can. Name one." Orion placed his warm, tender hand under his husky chin supporting it on the table.

    "Um...erm...well, she's best friends with Chromia and Chromia is best friends with me and I'm best friends with you so it practically makes us all friends!" Jazz exclaimed with triumph.

    "I have no idea what you said except she's friends with…Chromia?" Orion glanced up at Ariel that went back to serving drinks. She was at a table not far from there's serving two mechs High-grade. The massive, sturdy, green mech was closest to her and seemed to me engrossed in a conversation, while the other White and few lines of baby blue mech was leaning back in his chair gulping back his High-grade in just a few shots and then turning back his attention to the rosy-pink femme.

    "Yeah there really close….Hey, which reminds me. Chromia is dating Hatchet!" He screamed and everyone in the bar and pastry turned to stare at him. "Oh." He said as he sulked down in his seat. Ariel turned surprised to hear the mention of her best friend name. And when she met her optics on the mech who spoke those words she rolled her eyes.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    I stared at Jazz who was now slumped over in his seat like Orion was earlier, except he looked…smug with something. I had no idea what was going through his processor, but I was curious for my best friend.

    "Jazz? Who's Hatchet?" I asked and Bulkhead beside me started to howl in laughter and soon half the room joined in the chorus. I gaped at them for a while until they quieted down and I was able to speak. "What's so funny?"

    "That was the dumbiest question I've ever heard. Everyone knows Hatchet or in other words the grumpy, old, medic Ratchet."

    "Oh Ratchet! I know him!- He's such a hunk for an old, grumpy mech." I added and everyone laughed out loud at my remark as I joined my share. Inside I was hoping they were laughing with me instead of at me, but I also knew I could choose either one by keeping up my joke.

    "Come people! You have to admit, he's pretty sexy. Haven't you've seen his biceps?"

    "Yeah I've seen them!" Wheeljack hollered so everyone could hear.

    "You have?"

    "No. I was just fragging with you." And again the crowd broke out in uncontrollable laughter. I thought I was going to lubricate on myself when several drunken mech started to imitate Ratchet on a daily basis."

    "You immature idiot!" One drunken mech imitated.

    "Oh my primus! He's said that before in front of me!" I chuckled darkly at the memory. The part that crept on me was when Chromia went against him. 'Bot! She told him off with just her eyes! Now I feel bad for that mechs dignity.

    "Hey, hey, hey, everybody! Leave Ratchet alone! He's never hurt anybody." Jazz snickered. But then I saw something go flying across the room and hit Jazz Square in the face. He staggered back at the force but regained his posture when he saw what had hit him. It was a….wrench.

    Ratchet came strolling in with a displeased countenance as he approached the booth with his shoulder slumped and head facing the ground. Something was bothering him. I could see the anger eat at him from the inside-out, because he had it all written all over his face. Oh no. I knew exactly what was upsetting him.

    "Ratchet!" Jazz screamed fuming at the medic until he noticed his mood. "'Yo 'Ratch. Wha' wrong?"

    "Leave me alone, Jazz. I don't want to deal with your 'incensing me'."

    "Alright." Jazz said with a shrug and turned back to Orion who was twiddling his thumbs. I gawked at Jazz's carelessness . He acted like he didn't even car about Ratchet well-being. Well he's not going to comfort Ratchet, than I will, because I won't let anyone mop around for such a stupid reason. Hesitantly, I advanced over to the CMO where he was flaccid, and slouched. I placed my small hand on his shoulder and was surprised to see that he didn't flinch at my sudden touch.

    "Ratchet? Are you okay." I started.

    "Ariel." He groaned. " Please just…." He trailed off as I sat down next to him and turned the booth around so he was facing me. His optic ridges were narrowed towards me with a hint of suspicion.

    "No. You're going to listen to me even if you like or not."

    "Why should I?"

    "Because…I know what's bothering you."

    He turned his back to me as he fiddled with his High-grade that I set in front of him. The atmosphere around us changed rapidly as everyone got back to their conversations they were having with their friends, and as the laugh-out scene earlier was forgotten. As other 'bots entered the Bar and Pastry, the incoming air whipped past my wondering face and sent shivers down my back.

    "There is nothing bothering me."

    "Oh come on Ratchet! That slag and you know it…..it was Chromia wasn't it?" I pressed on as he stiffened at the mention of Chromia's name.

    "….no…."

    "She dumped you didn't she? Right after I left, right?" When he didn't respond I continued in a softer tone. "Ratchet don't be so..so down because of her. I love her to death but Chromia can't stick with a guy for more than a week so don't feel so bad. If I had known you feel for her than I would have warned you."

    "You're just trying to make me feel better. You know it's because I an't no fetching mech."

    I stared at him with open shock. What did Chromia say? This femme needs to watch her mouth, because half the things she says are things that are better left unspoken. Sometimes I wonder if she even holds any hue of compassion in that spark of hers. Maybe it's just the idioticness that consumes half of her common sense.

    "Fetching Mech? Damn, Ratchet! If you'd let me I would call you as my mech anytime, anywhere. You have better looks than half of the mechs in this room."

    "You mean that? No one has ever said words like that to me."

    "Every word. And maybe that's because you act like an aft-head half of the time-"

    "Most of the time." Jazz said as he walked up with Orion to give me a tip. In his hand laid a good kept 20 dollar bill. I just stared at his hand for a moment before I asked.

    "What is this?" I asked unsure as he offered the money.

    "It's money."

    "No slag, Jazz. I meant I can't take this."

    "Sure you can! Just open your hand and I'll place it in your palm." He said like a smart-aft as a smirk molded itself onto his faceplates and he stood with his weight sifted into one side of his hip. Orion towered over him as he tried to keep his eyes down, but I saw him flicker his optics up to me a few times. His broad shoulder tried to hold his head high as he stood side-by-side with Jazz.

    "You know that's not what I mean." I spoke with provocation, and Jazz shook his head as a grin broaden on his face. His turned up to stare at Orion who was now shuffling his feet. He looked so cute in his shyness that I almost hugged him like a sparkling. Jazz nudged him hard and he snapped his head up.

    "Hi." I said and I thought he was going to faint. He started to tremble and his knees started to buckle beneath until Jazz made a comment in his audio receptors . Whatever he said made Orion stiffen abruptly and set his face in a nervous smile.

    "H-h-hey." He stuttered before he coughed into his elbow trying to spit out his coyness. Then suddenly he turned around and rushed out of the room, knocking down someone drink on the way out and getting some angry words thrown at him.

    "Orion!" Jazz groaned as he chased after him, "Get your sorry aft back here!"

    I just watched them leave with the 20 Jazz dropped in my lap. I quickly put it in my sub-space compartment so no fraggers could steal it. Thieves were getting bolder and smarter, and I didn't appreciate my hard-working money being spent by some low-life. Ratchet grunted beside me as he drank his High-grade with carefulness so it didn't drip down his chin.

    After a couple of breems, Orion and Jazz came strolling back in with a new attitude. Orion transformed into a way different mech than I saw him as before. Smiling, I walked behind the counter to clean up as my shift ended. Jazz and Orion took a sit at the back table where they were before. With care I whipped down the counters with precision and made sure I got ever spot. Chromia sometimes asks me if I have OCD or some kind of cleaning disorder, but it just called being clean. There is nothing wrong with that.

    My focus snapped up when I heard heavy footsteps originating towards me, and who I saw was NOT the Orion Pax I knew. What did Jazz do to him?

    He strutted up to me; his chest huffed up in a confident manner and his head held high to show his strength even though I clearly saw his 'flexed' muscles that covered every inch of his husky body. His sapphire, deep optics flared with what seemed like utter determination and purpose and as he traveled his attractive shades of reds and blues glistened sharply under the helpful contrast of the sunlight. Lip components creased into a smile as he held his arms and shoulders rigid with his height.

    My mouth pinched up and I froze with a withering look as I slowly inhaled the pungent scent of his arrival. My small hands found my sides and I stood there silently as I waited with my weight shifted into my left hand as it clutched my wide hip. Absently, my foot bounced up and down, hitting the planet beneath me with a constant beat, thudding along in a rhythm. The sides of his mouth started to spread vigilantly into a broader, prideful grin.

    I tried to muffle my laughter as the near customers wooed him on. Who did this mech think he was? And why was he walking over to me now? Well, I knew the way he looked at me and even though he used to look away, I knew he would still be thinking of me. And I knew he would talk about me with Jazz and Chromia. Chromia told me EVERYTHING. Even the details that I rather not think of again if they were even true….

    But why now? I mean when did he mysteriously get this courage to finally talk to me? If that is indeed his intentions. I couldn't imagine any other thing he might have planned with Jazz in that CPU of his. And I mustn't forget, he is only a data clerk; a very low resident of Cybertron, who worked in the Hall of Records. But I always had a thing for the less fortunate ones of our race, and I guess a Data Clerk wasn't that low. Right? He did after all work alongside the great archivist, Alpha Trion.

    I absolutely adored that old, ancient mech. I've read all his books and I knew as much data I could find that described his life, which wasn't very much. All I found out was that he runned the systems in the Hall Of Records and legends say he is the oldest 'bot alive on Cybertron and he even was alive during the times of the Original Thirteen.

    I was one of the few who believed in these stories but what can I say? Anyway, I caught myself staring at him intently with stretched optics, surprised and gaping at the view. My optics traced the scene in my processor as it happened before me. And what I saw was a mech once trotting eagerly towards me, and then a mech tripping over practically nothing but his over-sized feet and falling flat on his face.

    I managed to choke out a giggle before I hurried to his side, almost laughing my head off at his sudden bewildered expression. He stuck his head up off the ground to lock optics at my mildly concerned spread about my face without showing a hint of my amusement. I hide it well. I saw his pained mask crawl over his self as he was consumed with embarrassments. Hotness flushed deep on his cheeks as he ducked his head back on the floor with a groan and a CLANK.

    "Yeah, that didn't go the way I planned." He mumbled in his hands that cupped his face hard. His hands were soft but tough; smooth but rigid; and fingers long but thick. I was struck with pity for this poor mech whose ego had just been terribly ruined in about an astrosecond. Whatever.

    "Are you alright," I felt like I was saying that for the second time. "You hit the ground pretty hard." I said a little unsure. He groaned again a little loader and began to heave himself up on his perfectly round aft, blinking rapidly.

    "I'm fine, thank you." He spoke with a deep, bass voice. How could one so young have such a mature voice? It was so sexy….

    "Fine, eh? That's what they all say!" my optics went skyward as I threw my hands up in the air.

    "They all? May I ask who they all are?" he inquired. An optic ridge shoved up into a pleading twinkle. A smirk started to grow on my faceplates.

    "All my past admirers. But….of course you know what happened to them." I said dramatically.

    "What happened? Something bad?" he sounded so serious that it was so adorable.

    "Oh it was terrible. I'd imagine there were in excruciating agony. Poor mechs….all well." He managed to pull himself up on his feet now and started to shift his weight slightly and I almost blew my cover. His head strongly picked itself back up into a weary expression.

    "So what happened?"

    "Well," I started to tell him but changed my mind. "Never mind. You don't want to know."

    "Of course I do!"

    "No you don't."

    "Yes I do," he paused then put on a techno-puppy mien. "Please?"

    I couldn't resist. "Oh…um…er…" I tried to contemplate up a story, and I felt a perfect tale fabricate in my mind. My optics lite up at an idea that pierced its way through my CPU. Got it! "Well…you see the mechs were very persistent, yes?" he nodded. I continued. "They just wouldn't leave me be…so my bodyguard, Ironhide…that nasty fellow decided on an idea—"

    "Wait! You have a bodyguard?" he questioned.

    A little annoyed. "Yes, I do. He's that big, black shaded mech who is always with me. You know, the really buff one?"

    "So he's not your mech-friend. Thank Primus! That would have been atrocious."

    Now I had to laugh at that one. "No he's not. I don't think I would ever date him anyway. So you remember?" I chuckled lightly.

    "Yes, I remember now. You may continue."

    "I didn't need your permission…." I mumbled.

    "Excuse me?"

    "Oh nothing…just talking to myself."

    "Oh."

    I sighed in deeply and he moved closer. Everyone seemed to be focusing on us in the middle of the room but tried to act like they weren't paying any attention. Jazz was busy 'entertaining a Praxian named Prowl. My spark went out for him. As Orion moved his head he winced in pain and I noticed the energon that started to leak out of his noise plate.

    "Oh dear!" I shrieked cringing from the liquid. I hurriedly closed the distance to hold his noise plates and apply pressure.

    "Ow! Wha-what are you doing? That hurts!" He complained. I rolled my optics again. (That starting to become a habit.) My free hand brushed the top of his head trying to find a place to hold so I had a better grip on his leaking noise plate.

    My long, slender fingers were traveling a lot slower than I meant to move them, and it made him turn his head back down to my level. I immediately pushed his head back up so his dented noise plate could stop the energon flow, and I applied a little more pressure making him howl in pain again. We were now in the back room so no one was around to witness our interaction.

    He appeared to be startled at my touch, but the one thing I knew I couldn't deny even if I wanted to was the jump my spark made in its casing. It had fluttered so violently at the contact we were making that it felt like I had been electrocuted with one of the Taser guns my bodyguard used on 'bots who opposed a threat. How I knew that feeling? Let's just say it was an accident and I was curious….and maybe a little bit dim-witted.

    "How did you-ow-learn how to do-ow-this?" He couldn't see my face because I had firmly held his head back so the leak would clot and stop leaking.

    "First, it's called common sense, 'ya know, and…I have to take medical classes every other day at mid-day when the sun is at its highest. Mother recommends it, while father doesn't approve. They're very different in nature but close….kind of."

    "Mother? Father?" Was he an idiot? A stupid-head? Does he not know what a mother or father is. Whatever. (That was another habit making its way around me.)

    "Yes….do you not know what they are?"

    "No,no,no. I know what a mother and father is, I'm not that stupid," he paused to flash me a smile, but stopped when it throbbed with pain. "I was just surprised you had parents. Most of the 'bot on Cybertron came out of the Well Of Allsparks, not reproduced by a couple." The leaking finally slowed down and stopped while the energon started to dry on his face. I pulled out a handkerchief I had in my left holder and wiped his face gently.

    "Well most of the High-caste were sexually produced. It's a royal thing, almost like a tradition. Also the nobles believe that the sexually produced 'bots are the stronger ones…beats me." I shrugged.

    "Huh, interesting…" he said thoughtfully.

    "I guess….but I think it's really sweet."

    "How?" he was looking at me intensely like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. His arms also intertwined across his chest, as he laid back in his posture and I was still wiping his face.

    "Well…" I hesitated. "Love."

    "What?"

    "Love. Two 'bots falling in love and creating another life to call as their own. Another spark that they would share through a spark bond. That's sweet."

    "You're sweet." He mumbled and I looked in his eyes and I saw…..I saw that his eyes appeared to be…dreamy? His optics meandered down to my lips and stared at that area for a while. Swiftly I turned away.

    "Um…I should go….er…you should go to the med bay to…fix that up." I gathered my bag that was sitting on the floor adjacent to my feet. As I reached down for my bag, it was caught by another hand. It was huge, black, and scarred and I feared for my life at that moment. Gradually my optics moved up the tall length of the mechs body, examining every scar, dent, and scratch that appeared on his armor. Ultimately, when I reached his face I winced, anticipating his expression.


    Ironhide.


    As quick as the memory came it disappeared. I tried to catch it before the wailing wind whipped it away. I felt so distant from the world and from myself. My memories seemed to wash out of me and leave me empty. As I watched each one exit I felt a hole blow itself into me making me a nothing. Just after a few breems it seemed, I forgot everything. I didn't know what had just happened. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what time it was.

    In fact, I didn't know who I was. Or who 'He' was.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Okay that was horrible I know but don't give up reading now. It just getting started. Next chapter we will get to the present war on Cybertron and You'll be introduced to Elita-one and half of the cast of Transformers:p rime.

    Enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW! :) 

    ~EXODUSELITA
     

Share This Page