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wyntir_knightNo journalling today. Instead I am trying my hand on some short almost-flash fiction to get the juices flowing again.
Title: It’s not paranoia if I’m right!
Date: September 18, 2019
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Character/Pairing: Blast Off, Teletraan 1, Red Alert, mentions of Smokescreen and Prowl
Rating/Warning(s): None
Word Count: 648
Summary: Red Alert knows that terrible things are going to happen and it’s all the others’ fault! Now if only someone would listen to him.
“I want you to contact me the moment that-”
“Red, m’man! It’s all in hand!” Blaster said, cutting the security director off with a negligent wave of his hand. “Ain’t no reason t’ believe that I’m gonna fall down on the job!”
“You are being far too cavalier about all of this!” Red Alert snapped. “The Decepticons have been testing the perimeters non-stop for the last quartex! They are just looking for the moment when we let our guard down!”
“An’ then they’ll murder us all in our recharge cycles,” Blaster said, rolling his optics. “Are you plannin’ on leavin’ or are ya gonna keep tellin’ me how t’ do my job, man?”
Red Alert’s sensor horns flashed wildly as his hands closed into fists at his sides.
“You are not taking this seriously!”
“Red, get out ‘fore I call Prowl t’ come an’ getchyer aft,” Blaster said, not bothering to hide his exasperation.
Not waiting for an answer Blaster settled back in the chair, kicked his feet up on the console, and turned on his tunes, blasting them loud enough to nearly shake the walls. Red Alert’s optics narrowed but he had very little choice but to vacate the room. Not if he wanted to retain his sanity.
He glared at the door for a long moment before turning on his heel and stalking down the hall.
“Teletraan One where is Prowl currently?” he demanded of the air.
“Greetings, Red Alert,” Teletraan 1 said blandly. “I am doing quite well, thank you for asking. And how are you, this fine evening?”
Red Alert stopped in his tracks and glared at the ceiling.
“You’ve been speaking with Smokescreen again, haven’t you?”
“None of the rest of you will,” the base computer sniffed. “He actually listens to me and treats me as something more than a tool to be used and put away on a shelf when you’re done with me.”
“What?”
Red Alert wasn’t sure what was going on any more. Had he passed out somewhere? Had Blaster’s infernal “music” broken something in his processor? There was no way that he was standing here listening to the ship’s computer complaining about how no one listened to him.
“He’s told me that there’s no reason why I have to take this dismissive attitude,” Teletraan 1 continued. “That even though I don’t have a traditional body or even a spark doesn’t mean that I am any less an individual deserving of respect. Respect that none of you seem willing to give me!”
Understanding finally dawned on Red Alert and he offlined his optics in exasperation.
“He has you in therapy. Of course he has you in therapy.” The security director cleared his vents heavily. “Fine. I apologize, Teletraan 1,” he said through tightly clenched denta. “Could you please tell me where Prowl is currently? I would appreciate your help in this matter.”
Teletraan 1 was silent for a long moment, seemingly refusing to answer save on his own terms.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Teletraan 1 said finally. “It only takes a moment to be civil. That’s what Smokescreen says. It makes life so much more enjoyable when we at least pretend to like each other. Prowl is currently in the command centre, heading toward the main exit. If you hurry you can catch him before he goes out to inspect the walls.”
“Thank you,” Red Alert grit out as he turned on his heel and headed off toward the main entrance.
It was just one more thing he needed to bring up with Prowl. The Autobots had become complacent in recent years as the war seemed to come to a stalemate. But he knew that the Decepticons were only biding their time and eventually they’d be taking advantage of that complacency. Thankfully he knew that Prowl had the same vision as he did. Prowl would listen. He had to.
Title: It’s not paranoia if I’m right!
Date: September 18, 2019
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Character/Pairing: Blast Off, Teletraan 1, Red Alert, mentions of Smokescreen and Prowl
Rating/Warning(s): None
Word Count: 648
Summary: Red Alert knows that terrible things are going to happen and it’s all the others’ fault! Now if only someone would listen to him.
“I want you to contact me the moment that-”
“Red, m’man! It’s all in hand!” Blaster said, cutting the security director off with a negligent wave of his hand. “Ain’t no reason t’ believe that I’m gonna fall down on the job!”
“You are being far too cavalier about all of this!” Red Alert snapped. “The Decepticons have been testing the perimeters non-stop for the last quartex! They are just looking for the moment when we let our guard down!”
“An’ then they’ll murder us all in our recharge cycles,” Blaster said, rolling his optics. “Are you plannin’ on leavin’ or are ya gonna keep tellin’ me how t’ do my job, man?”
Red Alert’s sensor horns flashed wildly as his hands closed into fists at his sides.
“You are not taking this seriously!”
“Red, get out ‘fore I call Prowl t’ come an’ getchyer aft,” Blaster said, not bothering to hide his exasperation.
Not waiting for an answer Blaster settled back in the chair, kicked his feet up on the console, and turned on his tunes, blasting them loud enough to nearly shake the walls. Red Alert’s optics narrowed but he had very little choice but to vacate the room. Not if he wanted to retain his sanity.
He glared at the door for a long moment before turning on his heel and stalking down the hall.
“Teletraan One where is Prowl currently?” he demanded of the air.
“Greetings, Red Alert,” Teletraan 1 said blandly. “I am doing quite well, thank you for asking. And how are you, this fine evening?”
Red Alert stopped in his tracks and glared at the ceiling.
“You’ve been speaking with Smokescreen again, haven’t you?”
“None of the rest of you will,” the base computer sniffed. “He actually listens to me and treats me as something more than a tool to be used and put away on a shelf when you’re done with me.”
“What?”
Red Alert wasn’t sure what was going on any more. Had he passed out somewhere? Had Blaster’s infernal “music” broken something in his processor? There was no way that he was standing here listening to the ship’s computer complaining about how no one listened to him.
“He’s told me that there’s no reason why I have to take this dismissive attitude,” Teletraan 1 continued. “That even though I don’t have a traditional body or even a spark doesn’t mean that I am any less an individual deserving of respect. Respect that none of you seem willing to give me!”
Understanding finally dawned on Red Alert and he offlined his optics in exasperation.
“He has you in therapy. Of course he has you in therapy.” The security director cleared his vents heavily. “Fine. I apologize, Teletraan 1,” he said through tightly clenched denta. “Could you please tell me where Prowl is currently? I would appreciate your help in this matter.”
Teletraan 1 was silent for a long moment, seemingly refusing to answer save on his own terms.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Teletraan 1 said finally. “It only takes a moment to be civil. That’s what Smokescreen says. It makes life so much more enjoyable when we at least pretend to like each other. Prowl is currently in the command centre, heading toward the main exit. If you hurry you can catch him before he goes out to inspect the walls.”
“Thank you,” Red Alert grit out as he turned on his heel and headed off toward the main entrance.
It was just one more thing he needed to bring up with Prowl. The Autobots had become complacent in recent years as the war seemed to come to a stalemate. But he knew that the Decepticons were only biding their time and eventually they’d be taking advantage of that complacency. Thankfully he knew that Prowl had the same vision as he did. Prowl would listen. He had to.