The Drabble Game

[Deleted]

Very simple (and a good way to destress) game. All you have to do is write a prompt or give someone a prompt with two characters and one word theme. Usually played in the Cbox in the am hours when all bad decisions are made.

Rumi: Ha. Wrote it. Go me.
Moon: Well, post it, you heathen.
Rumi: ......*bashful shuffle*
Moon: I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU WITH THE MOUSE.
Rumi: JESUS. FINE.
Housaphone: XD

Starscream, Zoom Zoom, Manicure

The resulting fight was severely one-sided on all accounts. Not only was Starscream much larger than ZZ, but nobody really wanted to provide backup for either of them. Which left the smaller mech scrambling across a fairly sizable rock meant to keep the seeker from getting his hands on him. Incredibly sharp talons raked down over the pock marked surface hard enough to produce sparks and damage the paint job on the hand.

“Hold still, you little pest!”

Housaphone: XD
Moon: XD! Sounds about right.

Optimus, June Darby, Shower

When Miss Darby was in a tizzy, everyone in the base suddenly found an oh-so-important job to do across the compound. It wasn't like they were scared of her or anything. These giant mechs who had faced down savage Decepticons all their lives. They just...had work to do away from the tiny, angry, nagging human woman. If anyone had bothered to caution her that Prime was busy, she probably wouldn't have barged in, ready to give him a earful about the dangers her son was facing at the hands of MECH. Instead, she got an eyeful of Prime in a luxurious stretch, his plates covered in solvent. It was hard to tell who was more was sheepish and awkward afterward. They certainly couldn't make eye contact for a good while afterward. And Red succinctly deleted that footage without ever so much as twitching at the monitor.

Ren: ...o.m.g.
Moon: *DYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYING*
Rumi: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This is me trampling on the fandom
Zercon: WHAT DUID I COME BACK TO
Moon: Also, our lurkers seem to have multiplied XD
Housaphone: I can almost hear the Zer screeching at that drabble XD
Zercon: -eye twitchy-

Megatron, Raf, Report Card

The time of the truce was trying for everyone. Tension ran thick like molasses. MECH was an omnipresent threat attacking from every angle. Bots and Cons alike had fallen prey and lost team members to the menace. Even the human allies weren't safe. After a foiled kidnapping attempt, the kid's had haphazardly been brought to the sanctuary of the DMZ to avoid being a weakness. But all of this paled in comparison to the horror that Raf's life had spiraled into. He was staring at a C on his progress report and had given a bird cry of terror at the sight of the red mark.

“Raf, calm down. The leader of the Decepticons is standing in literal stepping distance and all you can freak out about is the stupid report card?!”

“Do you know what my mother is going to do to me?!” The pint sized runt ignored the larger than life threat glaring down (and down) at the trio. Not for the first time in his life, Megatron felt insulted.

Moon: *cackling. CACKLING*
Zercon: -dies-
Rumi: Raf: My mom is scary, man D:
Moon: Poor weevil XD
Potential: "RAFAEL JORGE GONZALEZ ESQUIVEL! What is going on in here?!"
Rumi: "THERE WAS A WAR AND AND AND"
Toggs: ...what did I just come back to
Toggs: What is happening here

Roulette, Shockwave, Twister

For a femme that was possibly on the borderline thick side, Roulette could twist and contort herself into impossible positions when the situation called for it. And given that Shockwave's one free (and only) hand was groping for the vial she was hugging to her chasis, she'd damn well better be flexible. The good thing about the scientist was that his singular logic forced him to go after the prize with a narrow minded, rather unenthusiastic approach. He reached, she twisted, he groped empty air. Wash, rinse, repeat. This was likely to go on for several more minutes until the door to the lab opened behind them and the shrill shriek of Flatline cut through the silent lab. “What IS THIS??”

Potential: ROFLMAO XDD!!
Ren: Ahaha XD! -dies-
Zercon: 'GOD DAMNIT ARE YOU TWO AT IT AGAIN!?'

Bolo, Knockout, Fetch

Knockout didn't -do- pets. They were useless, time wasting diversions that ruined ones finish and generally made a nuisance of themselves. You could try to distract it with a few words or a game here and there but that never lasted long. The minute any peace was established, back it would come for more attention that chafed on a mech who thrived on being the center of attention. Hello, why else would his paint job be so eye catching? No, pets weren't for Knockout. How the Bots could stand to keep the humans around was a mystery. Oh, and the dog was really annoying too.

Thunder, Buffalo Dump, Drinking

Toggs: Thundercloud downed the last of his drink, cringing at the burn. He was pretty sure whatever was in that cube was corrosive. That would explain why the aftertaste reminded him of battery acid. Oh well, the taste might've been awful but at least the stuff had enough kick to it to allow him to tolerate the company he was forced to keep. Setting his empty cube on the counter, he turned to the mech in question and squinted, wondering if the mech was always that ugly. “Your turn, Trash-Mountain.”

Zercon: Trash mountain BAHA

Miko, Red Alert

Toggs: Miko really had no idea what she had done to tick off the robot Big Brother this time. Honestly, she didn't. All she knew was one minute she was telling Mrs. Darby how great her baking skills were (in between stuffing her face with fork-fulls of delicious pastry goodness), the next minute there was a loud clatter behind her as Red Alert dropped a datapad and hissed something under his breath she was gonna have to pretend she didn't hear.

Toggs: Then he shot her a weird look and stormed off, leaving her and Mrs. Darby to stare after him in confusion. “...What's that guy's problem?” She asked, before scooping herself another fork-full of cherry pie.

Moon: *SNRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK*
Toggs: ROU HAS RUINED THAT WORD FOR HIM

Miko, Alti, Spirited

Zercon: Altruous really was not bothered by the task assigned to him. With the truce in full swing and so many being spread out to assault MECH at once, there was no one to look over the Children. Some looked at him skeptically as he volunteered for the task, perhaps knowing more than he did about what the tiny organics were capable of, and in a way he perhaps should have listened. But he did not mind.

Zercon: Watching them ((Particularly Miko)) playing games and squabbling over snacks reminded him of youth long dispersed.

Thunder, Dreadwing, Chicken

As aerial dogfights went, this one would have been spectacular...if either of the two had pulled away at the last moment. Instead, they both played chicken and neither had retreat in their vocabulary. The impact leveled a small forest under them and they crunched to the ground, both sides watching (and wincing) paused to try and figure out where one flyer began and the other ended.

[Deleted]

Fort Max, Ghost Wind, Easter

His spark beat in an erratic rhythm. In the thick shell of his hideaway, the small, silvery mech trembled, every footstep outside making the anticipation in his frame worse. He was poised, knives ready in either hand, and the plan cycled over and over his processor like a glitched frame. Jump out, take note of Omega Base's location and equipment, hop back in, and wait for Fortress Maximus to leave with Ghost Wind disguised. The manoeuvre came dangerously close to breaking the truce in place...but he wasn't about to question Starscream, nor ignore the ranking mech's orders.

And thus, inside that neon-yellow, metal egg he waited, Fort Max approaching the groundbridge with a look of defeat. Ducking his head, he stepped through the portal, resigned dignity in every movement and motion of his gigantic frame. In one hand, scraps of metal had been twisted to make a makeshift basket — within it, metal ovals had been welded together to resemble eggs. Painted garish shades of neon hues, they weren't nearly as bad as the pair of antennae mounted on his head, accenting his helm's "horns" and acting as makeshift rabbit ears.

This was the last time he was volunteering as the Easter Bunny, troop morale be damned.


Rotary, Arcee, Sharing

They shared many things, her and the dancer. Their frames were elegant and slim, perfect for acrobating manoeuvres and flying kicks; their weaponry did not pack the greatest punch, but many stings could fell a greater mech. Their colour schemes were subdued and cool-toned, wickedly beautiful but not eye-catching on the battlefield; they both knew how to make themselves heard, and both had their ways of being diplomatic. They were not to be underestimated, were not to be provoked, and were both fiercely loyal to the Prime who had led their cause so far.

But they also shared something more unsaid, more painful than anything: the loss of a loved one. For Rotary, it had been back on Cybertron, and for Arcee, there and on Earth. Twice had the bikebot been wounded in the spark, and she found the other femme lucky to not have been struck twice by cruel, lightning fate.

One had to wonder, though, how long that might last.

[Deleted]

Roulette, Prime, Splinched

As battles went, the assualt on MECH could have gone better. They got the location right. They got the team work right. (Somehow.) They even got the combined efforts of both sides in a coordinated attack. It was truly magnificent for at least five minutes. The rest, well. Could have gone better. Roulette had found a vantage point high up with a few other sharp-shooting inclined bots to pick off the more troublesome MECH heavy hitters. The anti-tank guns were dangerous but essentially tinker toys without someone to man them. Prime and the rest of his Scooby gang were handling their own below the building Roulette hunkered down on. A possible tide was turning. Until someone, possibly the bitch that kept shooting everyone in the face, decided to try and blow up the Prime with a well aimed ordnance. The concussive force flung him back into the building, taking Roulette off of her perch and the two of them flattened what was suspiciously a garden shed in the back. But it was ok, because the sharpshooter graciously cushioned his fall with her body. Yeah, no, that worked out for the best. Nothing like getting flattened by a literal semi and ground into what felt like a building full of rakes. All the fun was had. Under Prime's bigass body, a muffled “Get ooffff me” could be heard.

[Deleted]

Wildfire, Breakdown – Feathers

The concussive force of the blow rang like a bell gong. Wildfire skidded back several feet, arms crossed in front of her in a heavy X. Her back hit a tree and shook the entire stone pine up to the tip top branch that quivered in the morning fog. Across from her, Breakdown readjusted his arm, readying the hammer for another go. Arm tingling from the hit, Wildfire rolled her shoulder and corrected her stance off of the tree. Just above her head, a small nest rocked in the cradle of a limb and excited peeps filled the still morning. Blue optics drifted upward to spot one bobbing head among a mossy nest. Breakdown turned his attention to the nest with a dubious, bordering on calculating look. So this was how the day was going to go. Sigh.

Miko, Knock Out- Veterinarian

“Oh, that -is- a shame. But we can't have her hobbling around, suffering, now can we?” The whine of the circular saw was loud but not louder than Miko's shrill cry. “I'M NOT A HORSE, YOU STUPID STRAWBERRY.” And once again, for the 50th time that week, the truce was strained over a skinned knee and misunderstanding.

[Deleted]

Rook/Roulette - Yamcha'd

As relic quests went, both sides were having a rollicking good time. When they weren't actively trying to outright kill each other. It became a bit of a competitive sport between both sides to get to the find the right locations, beat the other side to laying dibs, and fleeing with the goods. It was nearly like the Cybertronian equivalent of the Olympics. Each side who scored was held in minor acclaim. The mech or femme who claimed the weaponry was lauded (usually begrudgingly) by their team and the other side.

Roulette was actually having a decent run of luck for a change. She neither got tortured or injured (too badly) setting foot on the planet. She even managed to nab a relic of her own. Which she forked over to someone with an inkling of sense to them. The weapon had been some sort of isolated gravity thing that took finesse to operate. The last she'd seen of it, Skywarp had laid claim and the rest of the crew had been trying to get it back from him. Wisely, she'd fled the ship for another race before that karma came back to bite her on the aft.

The only monkey wrench in her plans was the damned Bots. Especially one particular mech that always seemed to show up just before she could reach the site. She was beginning to hate Rook more than necessarily warranted. And the fucker had stabbed her and snapped off a blade into a shoulder joint over the last scuffle. She'd thrown an irate swan in his face in thanks.

But this time! It appeared she was the first to arrive at the site. Which was...a tiny island off of a larger continent. Creeping ahead of her was a steep incline leading up to a fairly pretty temple. Ornate gates surrounded by bamboo kept the inside of the monastery from the outside world. Luckily they were tall enough for her squeeze through without having to rearrange the landscape.

Once through, Roulette deployed the swan to go inspect a koi pond with fish nearly the size of the swan. The dazzling gold and orange nearly glowed in the sunlight. Inside the walls, sound seemed curiously muted and reserved, as if physics was being respectful of the setting. Stepping through a strangely lined sand pit, Roulette kept her senses wide as she held onto the tracking beacon that would alert a yay or nay to the relic hiding about. There was something weird about the place...almost as if-

The sound of flapping and a hiss alerted the femme at the last moment. Twisting, she narrowly avoided a sizeable knife flung straight for her spine. As it was, it only crashed into the harder armor on her arm and left a line scraping the paint off. With a scoff she snatched a pistol with her free hand and aimed it at Rook. She'd missed him hiding in the bamboo grove just inside the doorway.

“Throwing things? Oh, that's mature.” She didn't start shooting because if she did, he'd start moving and the son of a glitch was hard to catch when he moved. Better to keep the threat of a shot and not actually deliver for a few moments. Enough time to back toward the doorway of the temple. Whatver they wanted was in there and...huh, according to the sensor, was moving toward them. That never happened before.

Giving the Bot a shifty look, Roulette turned her attention to the doorway and waited. Luckily she didn't have to wait long. Of all the things to step out was a group of humans. One of which had scars on his face and stupid hair. Roulette stepped back, just a little thrown by the turn of events. Not really what she expected and she'd violated the rule of being seen. Also, Rook had left her eyesight again and had disappeared. Damn him.

The human seemed just as surprised as she was and gaped. Before he could say anything stupid that would likely match his looks, an explosion of light hit the garden enough to destroy whatever zen was left in the garden. When the dust settled, another human thing was standing there. Roulette was a little rusty, but she didn't think humans could either fly or had tails.

At a loss, she let her arm drop by her side and just watched the stupid human turn to the newly arrived stupid human with a smarmy voice. Nobody seemed to know what the hell was going on anymore and Roulette wasn't helping by not saying anything. Rook just appeared by her side, close enough to touch, and squinted at the “relic” in the human's hands.

“I don't...think that's what we're looking for, hoss.” And he was right. An orange marble was hardly seemed relicy and or that powerful. But why the fuss over it? The two humans were downright snarling at each other over it. Before Roulette could say anything, either good or bad, the smart mouthed monkey tailed human moved. If she wasn't such an advanced machine herself, she wouldn't have caught the nearly teleportation like move into the dummy. When the breeze settled, the human with the stupid hair was laying in a painful heap in a truly pitiful fetal position. The other was holding the marble.

“Ah huh...” She sighed. “This is like the last time we found that weird gold chest thing...” This, of course, happened from time to time. Both sides tended to find something that was powerful in its own right but completely useless to them. The Cons had fought for an hour over a stupid, if not rather ornate puzzle box that had been thrown in to the vault. The Bots had nearly died in a fight over an ugly, green mask. No word on what they'd done with it.

“Right. I'm taking off.” Rook turned on foot and started marching for the exit. Roulette lingered for a second, torn between wanting to take the marble just to have something to offer. But in the end, the beady glare from the human monkey was rather not worth her time.

“Come on, Airlia. And stop touching that! You don't know where its been!”

Airlia snapped away from the wimpy, limp human and waddled after her mistress.

[Deleted]

Thunder, Carbine - Rambling

Not for the first time, Carbine and Thundercloud found themselves wasted out of their goddamn minds. This was far from an unusual development, so much so that no one save for a few new recruits seemed to think anything was at all peculiar about the sight of two grown mechs hanging off one another and snickering intermittently at a joke which they had heard hundreds if not thousands of times before.

Carbine, always ready with an astute observation, clung to Thundercloud's shoulder with one hand while the other gesticulated wildly, as if to emphasize some sort of point that he had long since lost.

“Thunder. Thun-Thunder. Brorb. Rob. Orb. Bor—bro. Bro. Listen. You listening? Thunder. Listen to me. Listen to the sounds I am making with my mouth. You are—SHHhhhHHh. Listen. You are my best friend. My best ever in the whole history of the—the, the whole thing. And I'm not afraid to admit that, you, you're fragging great. I'm not afraid to admit that to anybody, I'll tell it, tell it to the whole WORLD.”

As Carbine rambled, Thundercloud contemplated the floor, and how comfortable it might be to collapse onto. Undeterred, Carbine continued on, making sure Thundercloud heard his words by grabbing his full attention.

He did this by practically climging the mech like a jungle gym, scrambling up so that they were equals in height by standing on the armor protruding from Thundercloud's knees, using his shoulders as handholds for leverage.

“Thunder.” Carbine whispered the words in an unnecessarily quiet tone, as if they were too gravely important to be said in an indoor voice. “You are my bro, bro. My bro-bro, bro.”

His foggy attention fully grasped, Thundercloud blinked his bleary optics at Carbine.

“...Dude, why are you whispering?” He asked, because for some reason that was the most pertinent question to come to his mind.

“Because you're my world, Thunder. I said I'd tell the world and I'm doing it!”

The ex-cop threw his arms out wide to emphasize the far, far reach of his words, a gesture which he would come to regret as it completely offset his balance and sent him crashing to the floor with an undignified shriek.

Thundercloud looked down at his fallen companion, and apparently decided that the floor was indeed comfortable enough to crash on after all. He followed Carbine's example, dropping to the floor with a loud clatter, not even bothering to lower himself down gently.

The wasted jet was out cold before he even hit the floor.