#3 - Karte 2 / Was wäre wenn
Jul. 22nd, 2011 03:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
naboru-narluin.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
120_minutenTitle: Untitled
Team: Joplin
Challenge: Karte 2, Was wäre wenn (für mich)
Warnings: not beta read, gen, a confused Blast Off
Fandom/Continuity: Transformers SG Disillusion AU
Characters/Pairing: G1!Blast Off, Vortex, Brawl, Onslaught, Swindle
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.
Note: Follows this part.
---
Blast Off woke up to a world of pain. His circuitry was sore, his processor strained and there was a pounding pressure on his side.
He remembered slowly; the portal, the crash on a planet that looked like Cybertron and a mech who seemed to be Brawl, only he wasn’t. A pained groan left Blast Off’s vocaliser, and he wanted to reach for his temple, to rub over it trying to soothe the processor ache.
He couldn’t raise his hand.
Surprised and confused, he onlined his optics, only to regret it an astrosecond later. Everything hurt, and so did his CPU as it tried to process the new optical input. It took him several more astroseconds to make sense of the things he perceived, which were his wrist chained to the berth.
Blast Off’s optical sensors flickered in confusion.
His other hand was restrained, too, and so were his legs. The only reassuring thing he noticed was the damage on his side which was mostly sealed, but his cannons were disabled.
What the pit was happening here?
Blast Off tugged on the chains, but it only increased the pain, and so he stopped soon. He wasn’t panicking, but cautious, looking around in the room for any clues.
The ceiling was as bleak as the walls. A grey metal, and not overall clean. There were four lights over him whose brightness burnt in his optics. And most importantly, he was alone.
Time clocked by. Kliks passed, then breems, and Blast Off began to pull on the chains again. And it didn’t take long after he started this for the door to open.
Blast Off couldn’t see it, but he heard the creaking sound of rusty hinges and the thud noise of metal feet. He raised himself as much as possible, only to see Vortex.
Well… sort of.
Vortex’ battle mask was slid aside, the visor as red as ever, but the boring grey frame was turned into an even more boring white one. Blast Off guessed it was because of the bright light. And he also could guess that Vortex was the reason he was chained to a berth.
Blast Off’s engine revved to a growl, and the ache along his body increased. He suppressed a hiss, then spat, “Let me go, you imbecile. I swear if-“ Another voice interrupted him.
“Vortex…”
It was Brawl’s. Again so unfamiliar calm, and that in itself was an oxymoron. The tank showed up next to the ‘copter, who then walked further into the room, closer to Blast Off and now he could see him actual… smiling? “I just wanted to see him…” the #copter said, acting coyly.
Blast Off didn’t know what it was on his face, but it was not his usual mischievous grin.
“What is going on here?” the shuttle demanded to know, and tugged on the chains again, but to no avail. Brawl and Vortex didn’t answer, and only exchanged worried looks.
“What are you two doing here?” someone else said, and entered the room, and Blast Off almost relaxed. That was until he saw the other mech. A red and grey frame and this all made less sense by the second.
Onslaught? Blast Off thought, but kept quiet. He had the feeling that saying anything wouldn’t have any effect at all. What the frag happened to his team mates? Blast Off vented air heavily, and tried to get his thoughts together. The portal, maybe it sent him into the future? But why should they get a repaint? Why should they restrain him, and why did they all have their Cybertronian alt-mode again?
Blast Off wanted his old-frame back, too.
The others had to notice his agitation as he shifted in the limited place, and the Onslaught resembling mech stepped closer, holding something in his hand which Blast Off couldn’t recognise. It looked like a kind of gun.
“Everything will be explained to you. We will patch you up. You will live, but we have to get you to the Constructicons later. And to Megatron.”
Blast Off couldn’t reply anything. The red mech put the gun-like instrument against his helm, and activated it with a click. The shuttle didn’t even have time to try to move his head away, less alone articulate a grumpy response. From his head, a weird current spread down his spine and into his limbs. They became weak and tingly before they eventually were numb. And the numbness crept over his whole frame.
His vocaliser spit a curse which was drowned in static and his optics shut down.
“Rest now,” Onslaught’s voice said, but it wasn’t the last thing that Blast Off heard.
A huff followed, and another familiar voice muttered, irritation in the tone as clear as the thought that it belonged to a mech Blast Off knew.
“We should kill him.”
…Swindle? was the last thing Blast Off could think, before he passed out again.
Team: Joplin
Challenge: Karte 2, Was wäre wenn (für mich)
Warnings: not beta read, gen, a confused Blast Off
Fandom/Continuity: Transformers SG Disillusion AU
Characters/Pairing: G1!Blast Off, Vortex, Brawl, Onslaught, Swindle
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.
Note: Follows this part.
---
Blast Off woke up to a world of pain. His circuitry was sore, his processor strained and there was a pounding pressure on his side.
He remembered slowly; the portal, the crash on a planet that looked like Cybertron and a mech who seemed to be Brawl, only he wasn’t. A pained groan left Blast Off’s vocaliser, and he wanted to reach for his temple, to rub over it trying to soothe the processor ache.
He couldn’t raise his hand.
Surprised and confused, he onlined his optics, only to regret it an astrosecond later. Everything hurt, and so did his CPU as it tried to process the new optical input. It took him several more astroseconds to make sense of the things he perceived, which were his wrist chained to the berth.
Blast Off’s optical sensors flickered in confusion.
His other hand was restrained, too, and so were his legs. The only reassuring thing he noticed was the damage on his side which was mostly sealed, but his cannons were disabled.
What the pit was happening here?
Blast Off tugged on the chains, but it only increased the pain, and so he stopped soon. He wasn’t panicking, but cautious, looking around in the room for any clues.
The ceiling was as bleak as the walls. A grey metal, and not overall clean. There were four lights over him whose brightness burnt in his optics. And most importantly, he was alone.
Time clocked by. Kliks passed, then breems, and Blast Off began to pull on the chains again. And it didn’t take long after he started this for the door to open.
Blast Off couldn’t see it, but he heard the creaking sound of rusty hinges and the thud noise of metal feet. He raised himself as much as possible, only to see Vortex.
Well… sort of.
Vortex’ battle mask was slid aside, the visor as red as ever, but the boring grey frame was turned into an even more boring white one. Blast Off guessed it was because of the bright light. And he also could guess that Vortex was the reason he was chained to a berth.
Blast Off’s engine revved to a growl, and the ache along his body increased. He suppressed a hiss, then spat, “Let me go, you imbecile. I swear if-“ Another voice interrupted him.
“Vortex…”
It was Brawl’s. Again so unfamiliar calm, and that in itself was an oxymoron. The tank showed up next to the ‘copter, who then walked further into the room, closer to Blast Off and now he could see him actual… smiling? “I just wanted to see him…” the #copter said, acting coyly.
Blast Off didn’t know what it was on his face, but it was not his usual mischievous grin.
“What is going on here?” the shuttle demanded to know, and tugged on the chains again, but to no avail. Brawl and Vortex didn’t answer, and only exchanged worried looks.
“What are you two doing here?” someone else said, and entered the room, and Blast Off almost relaxed. That was until he saw the other mech. A red and grey frame and this all made less sense by the second.
Onslaught? Blast Off thought, but kept quiet. He had the feeling that saying anything wouldn’t have any effect at all. What the frag happened to his team mates? Blast Off vented air heavily, and tried to get his thoughts together. The portal, maybe it sent him into the future? But why should they get a repaint? Why should they restrain him, and why did they all have their Cybertronian alt-mode again?
Blast Off wanted his old-frame back, too.
The others had to notice his agitation as he shifted in the limited place, and the Onslaught resembling mech stepped closer, holding something in his hand which Blast Off couldn’t recognise. It looked like a kind of gun.
“Everything will be explained to you. We will patch you up. You will live, but we have to get you to the Constructicons later. And to Megatron.”
Blast Off couldn’t reply anything. The red mech put the gun-like instrument against his helm, and activated it with a click. The shuttle didn’t even have time to try to move his head away, less alone articulate a grumpy response. From his head, a weird current spread down his spine and into his limbs. They became weak and tingly before they eventually were numb. And the numbness crept over his whole frame.
His vocaliser spit a curse which was drowned in static and his optics shut down.
“Rest now,” Onslaught’s voice said, but it wasn’t the last thing that Blast Off heard.
A huff followed, and another familiar voice muttered, irritation in the tone as clear as the thought that it belonged to a mech Blast Off knew.
“We should kill him.”
…Swindle? was the last thing Blast Off could think, before he passed out again.
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no subject
Date: 2011-07-25 07:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-25 09:56 pm (UTC)And yeah, nice!Vortex is just so damned cute! :D Maybe V just has to hug grumpy!Blast Off someday, if the shuttle won't hug him :p