Based on a conversation between myself and my two buddies Blindside and SBlackout. Enjoy! Be warned, though; there is swearing. The rugged ground of Molten sizzled ever so softly as the yellow fluid bubbled through the cracks, creating an atmosphere of heat uncomfortable even to a Robotronian. Two ridges on either side joined to large bunkers, with a circule bridge above the middile of the molten plain. It was a compact and unwelcome habitat, and right now, it was serving as a battlefield. A Deceptibot Energon Seeker streaked over the land, swerving to avoid the plethora of bullets sent after it by its persistent pursuer, an Autocon Sprinter. The yellow-and-green scout swerved off the ridge in a smooth barrel roll, leaping neatly onto the central bridge as the jet simply swooped under it, ascending to make a beeline for the glowing cube sat outside the wdie entrance of one of the bunkers. But the scout was ready, leaping after its flying foe and unleashing a barrage of gunfire. The stream of bullets neatly caught the boosters of the jet, and just before it could reach health, its rear end exploded, sending it crashing into a pile of debris just short of its prize. Through the fire and flame, the scout shifted into robot mode, skidding through the wreckage with professional ease, before giving a cocky smirk to the shattered remains of the Seeker. But the fight was not yet other; heavy footfalls shook the land, and the Sprinter backed away as a massive Deceptibot Destroyer emerged from the entrance, baring a Thermo Rocket Launcher, an Ammo Beacon just behind it. The Sprinter readied herself as the Soldier locked onto her with cruel, cocky red optics. Spreading his arms, challenging the Scout, username GIGATRON-D19 bellowed: "Come forward, if you dare! I will finish what my pathetic minion could not, username MrBee! You will be destroy-" An audio-shattering bang, the streak of a Null Ray bullet, and GIGATRON's head exploded into fragments, splattering processor-matter everywhere. As the hulking grey body fell limp, first to his knees, then fully onto the floor, MrBee reloaded her Null Ray, planted another bullet in the corpse for good measure, before rolling out. The scene shifted. Now, we come to the cheerful twittering of a triumphant Bumblebee, holding his custom-sized controller in the air in victory, as Arcee complimented him with: "Great double kill, 'Bee. Though that tank made it easy for you." "Shouldn't have been so cocky." Bulkhead snickered, patting the yellow car on the back. "Nice head-shot. You're not as bad at this game as I thought you would be." Bumblebee beeped in indignition at Bulkhead's assumption, causing the other two Autobots to laugh. The three of them were currently revelling in the joys of their latest present, courtesy of Agent Fowler; an Xbox 360, with controllers specifically designed and resized for the Autobots to use, as well as the massive TV that had come with it. Currently, the three were playing War for Robotron, a custom-title based on transforming robots, the heroic Autocons and their enemies, the Deceptibots. Fowler had done well, pitching his superiors to create a franchise based on the Autobot-Decepticon war, yet making sure there were creative differences, so to speak. For example, the renames of the factions and their planets. Anyway, Bumblebee was currently playing Team Deathmatch, and, with helpful and hilarious comments from his two friends, went on to help win the match, dominating GIGATRON-D19 (he ragequit just before the match ended), successfully fighting and killing a Warcry spammer and managing to take out several Scientists (One of which ragequitted) with his Battle Pistol. Mark Target was such a useful ability. Finally, the game ended with Autocon victory, and the three of them cheered in success at their victory, Bumblebee jumping up and performing a victory dance, as Bulkhead hollered: "Man, I never knew you had the skills, 'Bee! Where you'd learn to play like this?" Bumblebee waggled his finger at Bulkhead and grinned smugly. Well, he would grin smugly if he had a mouth, but his eyes conveyed it well enough. Arcee snatched the controller and declared: "Alright, my turn! Lemme switch accounts quickly-" But before she could, MrBee recieved a message, from none other than GIGATRON-D19. She glanced at the other two, who motioned for her to check it out. It was a voice-message, oddly enough, and believe you-me, it was one that certainly left them with raised eyebrows. When Arcee clicked play, they were greeted by this: "Fucking idiotic piece of slag straight from the junkyard! You think you have some kind of skill, but truthfully, you're nothing than a shit-piece, spamming that goddamn sniper and your shitty Mark Target. Shove that gun right up your ass, go straight to Hell and never play again, you worthless ball-joint-sucker! Fuck you, and fuck your mum too." The Autobots were wide-eyed, shocked and horrified, put simply, before Bumblebee's eyes narrowed in cold fury, taking the controller surprisingly calmly from Arcee, clicked reply and responded with a devastating rage: "U MAD? ;P" Bulkhead and Arcee burst out laughing, and Bumblebee smugly clicked send. "Oh, he's gonna fragging rage at that!" Bulkhead snickered, his engine revving from his booming laughs. "Well done, 'Bee!" Arcee laughed, taking the controller back and readying a new game, moving the account to her own (2WheelieOrNot2Wheelie) and picking out her custom scout (A red Runner she affectionately named Cliff). "Bet he'll be feeling that sting for a long time." The yellow car twittered proudly as Bulkhead patted him on the shoulder, and soon, Arcee's game began. Cliff drove across the wide range of Orbital, barrel-rolling to avoid the shot of a Soldier before wrecking it with his machine-gun fire, then speeding off just in time to avoid a ramming Leader. He passed by a fellow Autocon, who used their Rocket Launcher to shoot down a passing Scientist, before reaching the Deceptibot ship, transforming and cloaking, and moving inside to secure the Overshield. It hadn't respawned yet, but an Energon Seeker was guarding the point, waiting for the shield to respawn. Cliff smirked, and readied his Scatter Blaster. With a boost of Dash, he sped into the surprised Scientist, delivering a shot to the torso that sent shrapnel flying, before unveiling his sword and slicing the unfortunate jet right in half. Cliff raised his sword in triumph as the two halves of the jet collap- A bang, and Cliff's head exploded as the Null Ray bullet sliced through it, the unfortunate Autocon having celebrated too soon. Arcee let out a groan of annoyance as the other two gave out sympathetic murmurs. Turns out, it was another Scout, an Enforcer, hiding in the central station, who was moving forward to claim the Overshield. Cliff respawned and set off again, joining a Leader in tackling a Soldier with an Ammo Beacon. It was a brief but tough fight, and it ended with the Leader prying the Soldier's corpse off his axe in triumph. Two Scientists chose this moment to swoop in and attack, but the Leader activated Warcry and managed to completely obliterate one with one strike. Cliff Dashed into the second attacker, jamming his sword through the foe's arm to stop his wild shots, before delivering a fatal shot with his Scatter Blaster. Victory was sweet, and Arcee felt a thrill of satisfaction at the deaths of the unit based upon none other than Starscream. Cliffjumper would get his revenge one way or another, and these online bodies would do perfectly fine to exact said revenge. And just like last time, victory cut short as the Leader died of a headshot. Cliff yelped and dove for cover, wishing he had choosen Cloak instead of fucking Decoy Trap. He peeked out, to try and get a glimpse at where the sniper might be. Turns out, judging from the fact he died from a knife, the sniper had been right behind him. "This guy is good." Bulkhead lamented as Arcee cursed Cloakers. "What's his gamertag?" With a huff, Arcee checked as she respawned, and grunted: "1337Wave. He hasn't died once this match, and he's the best on their team. Gonna have to put a stop to that-" Upon respawn, right after taking seven steps forward, Cliff was sniped again. "FRAG 1337WAVE!" The match eventually ended with Deceptibot victory, alas. The cloaked sniper had proven superior to his enemies. But nevertheless, Bulkhead and Bumblebee congratulated their friend on a good match. After all, everyone lost on these games. Even 1337Wave wouldn't always have been this good at the game, and Arcee felt better at the knowledge that her newest nemesis had once been just another newb. And hey, her Cliff killed a lot of Screamers, so it's not all bad. Unfortunately for Bulkhead, who was ready to take next turn as they switched back to Bumblebee's account, Ratchet entered and roared: "Again with the Xbox? Honestly; you three used to be a lot more active before that pitiful piece of tech wormed in here!" "Calm down, Ratchet, we're just having fun." The Wrecker huffed. "I was thinking of inviting Wheeljack to come play, actually. Maybe do some four-player Halo with him. That'd be swell!" The other two made clear their pleasure with the idea, but Ratchet sputtered: "Absolutely not! I don't want that ruffian in this base any longer than he has to be for a vital mission! The last thing I need is you three and him raising another nightmarish party!" Bumblebee beeped with annoyance at the ambulance, whom snapped: "Don't talk back to me, Bumblebee! That's it, all three of you, get out of here! I have work to do!" Ignoring their curses and hand-gestures, Ratchet shoved the three of them out the main entrance and with a disgruntled sigh, moved back into the centre. At first, he moved towards the computer screens, but then, he glanced at the Xbox, which in their indignant complaints, the others had forgot to turn off. He looked left. He looked right. He looked at Optimus, who had been standing in the corner the whole time, chilling. With a wild grin, Ratchet leapt forward and seized the controller, readying another match as he switched to Arcee's leader, Primey. "Beware, humans of Earth! Now you're dealing with the Doctor of Doom!..... Who the frag is GIGATRON-D19 and why is he messaging Bumblebee? And why-...... WHAT THE FRAG YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?!" xxxxxxx Meanwhile, upon the Nemesis, having taken a break from his usual scheming and evilness, Megatron was heaving with frustration, having just poured a terrifyingy vulgar rant into the reply he had sent to MrBee's reply. He was not 'mad', he was frustrated by the cheap hacking idiots who ruined the game for professionals like him. Good thing Knock-Out had given his leader a great lesson in Earth swearing. He'd show that damnable MrBee. A one-on-one match! Just him and the foolish n00b. He'd crush him like he crushed Bumblebee's voice-box, take his head as a trophy and tea-bag him like no tomorrow. Such is the fate of those who defy Megatron. Let the battle begin. xxxxxx Later, back from their drive, Arcee could have sworn she heard Ratchet murmuring to himself: "I don't know who that GIGATRON guy is..... but damn, if he played as good as he ragequitted, he'd be the best in the world. Sucker." Voila! Awesome! I can always write more if you guys want
Ratchet took up the mantle of Primey, and lustfully began to play. His first opposition, a Scientist by the name of FOWL_PLAYER, moved deftly, but not deftly enough. Ratchet quickly meleed him, and the blood of his first kill made his Energon surge. His next two targets were slightly harder, but a grenade and a rocket took care of one and then two. Ratchet's hands shook with excitement at his success and he couldn't supress a shout. "I haven't felt this good since I was on SynthEn!" "Ratchet?" The medic became instantly still, pulverized by fear. A grenade ended his life on-screen, and FOWL_PLAYER gleefully shot the corpse as payback. He turned in his seat. Optimus's eyebrow raised inquisitively. "O-Optimus! I was just...running some diagnostics..." The Prime seemed more concerned with the game than who was playing it, to Ratchet's slight relief. "The game that the other Autobots enjoy, am I correct?" Ratchet nodded, his jaw slightly slacked. "I am interested in the truthfulness of this "war game" to our actual combat on Cybertron. May I play?" If Optimus was making an excuse to play the game, Ratchet couldn't see it. "Uh...sure, Optimus. Just move with this joystick and—" "Joystick?," he interjected. He picked up the controller and inspected it thouroughly. "Is it actually capable of creating joy?" Ratchet sighed, under his breath. This would take some time. "...And you activate your special here, with this button." Finally, Optimus's tutorial was over. Ratchet loaded a multiplayer game, and Optimus carefully looked about at his surroundings. "This is Polyhex." Optimus carried a tone of concern in his voice. "Actually, Optimus, in the game it's called Monospel. They altered the names to conceal our presence." Optimus wasn't satisfied with the explanation. "Why such elementary name changes? The suffixes and prefixes of our faction names are merely swapped. That does not strike me as concealment." Ratchet sighed again. "Optimus, nobody knows about us. At least they got the environments right." Both robots looked back at the screen. The match was unusually quiet. "I will test its merits," Optimus quietly conceded. Leaving the room for a drink of Energon to calm his nerves, Ratchet was newly rattled by explosions that rocked the base. Running back to the game, he came upon Optimus frantically juggling the controller in his hands as he haphazardly continued to increase the volume. Ratchet grabbed up the controller, and silenced the game moments before his audio receptors popped. Optimus looked at him, quite evidently as shaken as he was. Ratchet looked back at the screen, and the carnage was immense. "Wow, Optimus, you got three kills." He handed the controller back. "Am I...performing adequately?," Optimus inquired, as he inadvertently activated his special. The character on screen spun as it was illuminated with yellow light. "I would say so," the medic said. The timer on the match ran out, and a lobby screen posted the results. WINNER: PRIMEY. "I am a winner," Optimus said. A message box popped up, and another. Ratchet took the controller, and navigated to the messages. The two read the first together. "Ratchet, what is a "grenade spamming motherfu—" "Ah ah, Optimus," Ratchet hurriedly said, ushering the Prime out of his chair. "It's just logistics stuff, friends of Arcee, and the like." He clicked off the game. The two stood in silence for a minute. "You know, Ratchet, I am intrigued by this game. I perform as well on it as I do in combat situations." "Beginner's luck!," Ratchet replied, laughing. Optimus's brow furrowed, and he looked slightly downtrodden. Ratchet put his hand on the Prime's shoulder. "No, Optimus, you did very well. I'm impressed." Optimus nodded, silently thanked Ratchet for the opportunity, and walked out of the room. "How do you like that," Ratchet mumbled to himself, smiling slightly.
"Am I performing adequately?" I need to stop spending so much time on Tumblr, goodness gracious I laughed so hard. Great stuff.
Brilliant work, Blindside! I loved it Alright, guys, I've got a new chapter featuring a special guest-star! ENJOY! The Autobot base was quiet at night. The Cybertronians had retreated to their respective quarters, ready to rest up for another bright sunny day on Earth. The Decepticons had been awfully quiet the past few days, but it was a welcome change to constant threats and battles. Within what Miko had oh-so-cleverly dubbed: The Laundry Room, there was nothing but silence. Ratchet's secret console, having been delivered him by Raf, was cooling down from a good gaming session. The medic had gotten quite good at War for Robotron, and though his comrades didn't know it, he had also gotten good at trolling his fellow Autobots online. They never knew it was him. But tonight, things would change. A tiny fly, zippy and cheerful, buzzed about, doing typical fly stuff. But eventually, it felt a bit tired with buzzing, so it settled down to rest upon a smooth metal surface. Little did it know, this smooth metal surface was that of a stasis pod. And within this stasis pod was a creature that embodied the eternal predator of creatures like the fly, a foul monster of acid and earth that hunted for fun and killed for pleasure. Within the Laundry Room was Airachnid. And the fly's landing, while innocent in intention, triggered no other sequence than the pod-opening sequence. Fuck. The fly buzzed away in surprise when the metal pod slid open with a hiss and the figure within it slackened in shock, letting the last gasp she had given when she had first been trapped. Airachnid slumped to the ground, a jolt of pain flaring from her missing limb as she struggled to remember movement and comprehend her surroundings. Confused, she retracted her spider limbs and glanced around. Nothing but a dark empty room. And beneath her, the retrated pod. Nervously, fearful of activating it again, she crawled off it and muttered: "Urgh.... that was unpleasant. I swear, I'll have my revenge yet, Arcee....." She looked around again, and mused: "It appears I am in their base. This could be a prime opportunity for a little sabotage." Shakily getting to her feet, she tried the door. Unfortunately, it was locked, and she was not in the mood for blasting it open and alerting the Autobots to her awakening. Digging was also out of the question; the thick floor and walls of this enclosure were far too thick for her to penetrate. How frustrating. Airachnid contemplated hiding on the ceiling and jumping on whoever came in next, when she noticed the outline of a console. Taking a closer look, she recognised it as a human Xbox 360, a device designed for entertainment. The helicopter smiled in amusement. How sickeningly cute of the Autobots to indulge in human culture. And hey! She had found a way to kill time until an Autobot came in for her to ambush. Carefully, she turned on the console, wincing at the obnoxiously loud turn-on noise, and seized the nearby controller, noting with further amusement that it was just perfect for a Cybertronian to wield. The console and its partner television turned on, and Airachnid was greeted by a screen displaying: War for Robotron, and a small menu, which included things like Escalation and Extras. She raised a brow. Robotron? That sounded like a stupid twist on Cybertron. What the frag have the Autobots been telling the humans? She shook her head and, getting the grips of the controller, moved for the tutorial option. Pit, she hadn't heard the word tutorial in mega-cycles. The last time was at Cybertron, when one of Soundwave's underlings had hosted a class to learn basic hacking. She'd attended, but to be honest, she preffered hacking limbs to computers, so she flunked. Anyway, Airachnid was greeted by a character that looked like a fat Optimus Prime, and a series of displays telling her the controls and the buttons that activated them. The helicopter was amused at humanity's efforts into making games; once she had rendered the species extinct, it would be glorious to have a planet full of entertainment just for her. So, she did the tutorial, and the author decided not to bore you with the details of said tutorial because its just a fucking tutorial. Anyway, once that was done, she backed out and moved onto Escalation. Apparently, it was a gametype where four players had to fight off increasingly difficult waves of enemies. Airachnid was reminded of the time she had watched Megatron take on a swarm of Autobots by himself, and felt slightly pleased that she could do the same kind of thing without actually having to worry about dying. Apparantly, whoever's Xbox this was had the 'gamertag' of RATCHANIMATOR1297. Airachnid snorted to herself: "So, the medic decided to have a go as well. You learn something new everyday." Regardless, three other players joined the match (They were GIGATRON-D19, Letter-Better and GeorgeTree), and the map was an Autocon map. Airachnid nearly burst into laughter, but restrained herself so no Autobot would here. Autocon? What kind of processor-defective name was that? Did whoever make this game not understand anything of Cybertron? Regardless, she picked a character called Meta Prime, who possessed the Warcry and Ammon Beacon abilities, and the other three players chose Warroad, Planefire and Killer Bee. "Hey guys." Letter-Better stated in a horribly high-pitched voice that made Airachnid's audio contemplate suicide. "Where do you get the Scrapmaker on this map?!" "We'll get it later." D19 grumbled, and Airachnid froze in shock. She'd recognise that deep growl anywhere. And suddenly, she laughed. Not loud enough to attract Autobot attention, but still pretty loud. Megatron. Was playing. War for Robotron. What the utter frag? Letter-Better was bitching again, and D19 hollered at him to shut up, while GeorgeTree insisted everyone just calm the fuck down. Airachnid remained silent. The battle soon began. Warroad (D19) jumped into the centre of the map and roared: "Come face me, pitiful Deceptibots! None of you are worthy to challenge me, and you will pay for your insolence!" He promptly had his shit swarmed by spiders. He tried shooting them, but spiders are difficult to hit, and he spouted abuse about their mothers as they downed him. Planefire (Letter-Better) laughed: "HAHAHAHA they got you, you suc- AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" The spiders swarmed his shit too. Airachnid sniggered at their pitiful failures, and decided that the time had come to prove herself. As GeorgeTree ran off to hide, whining about stuff, she had Meta Prime leap into the fray, swinging his axe to demolish the spiders and successfully reviving the two idiots. "Well done!" Warroad bellowed. "They will pay for this outrage!" Airachnid ignored him as she had her guy turn into a truck and run over a Deceptibot trooper. This was fun! Not as fun as ripping out a victim's head and spine and displaying it as a trophy, but still fun. She shot some more fools, and used her money to buy an EMP Shotgun. "RATCHANIMATOR! Set up the Ammo Beacon already, I need ammo!" Planefire bitched, and Airachnid set up the beacon in Killer Bee's hiding spot, despite him protesting that the bad guys would find him. Basically, Airachnid, despite having only played the tutorial before this, was the only decent player on the time. Well, Killer Bee (GeorgeTree) wasn't too bad, but he coped badly under pressure. Anyway, she kept on playing, utilising her purchased Shotgun to blast aside troopers as her axe smashed though spiders, turning into a truck to blast fools and run them over. She giggled hysterically as she shot down jets and listened to the others bitch at each other. Eventually, D19 ragequit after being downed by Cloakers (again), though not before swearing to hack Letter-Better's account and accusing GeorgeTree's mother of not being a good-enough fuck. Airachnid was learning a lot about human culture, and it made her giddy. Alas, not even she was good enough to support a team, and eventually they were taken down by Shotgunners. Nevertheless, Airachnid felt a thrill of joy running through her, the exhilaration of murder, even virtual, and of being free from that damn pod. The door opened, and her head twisted round in time to see Bumblebee step in, having heard the noise while walking around aimlessly. Their optics locked, and he stared at her in surprise, and she stared at him in surprise. They stared at each other for a few minutes, Bumblebee's eyes contracted in horror, both of them very still. A few more minutes of staring passed. Finally, she said: "It's exactly what it looks like."
It's exactly what it looks like. Fantabulous. If I was a worse person, I'd say that's a shipping ending, but it's not.
