[ti]Flashback[/ti]Spotlight: Windshield
Oct 9, 2018 17:56:39 GMT -5
Post by Windshield on Oct 9, 2018 17:56:39 GMT -5
Chapter 1 - Just a Machine
Iacon was a beautiful, radiant city—a shining beacon of the Golden Age and eras past. However, beneath the city of chrome and steel sprawled a rusted, age-old system of canals, sewers, and catacombs.
The average citizen of Iacon would never visit such a place, let alone know it even exists. But there were those who spent their entire lifetime in canals such as these: Iacon's 45th Sanitization Cohort.
A bot of diminutive size was just about to start his shift in one of these ancient underground tunnels. Muck coated him from head to toe. One couldn't tell his natural color apart from all the waste.
"Ey, Windwipe, what's the matter with ya?! Are ya stalling again?" A deep voice echoed from the end of the corridor behind the small mech.
Another, larger bot stood there. Unlike the one before, this one wore silver and his body, bar the mud-stained pedes, was clean. He looked gruff and certainly not amused.
The tiny one remained silent, not answering his questions. To that, the brute took offense. He decided to approach. His stride was confident and full of fury—as well as his expression.
"Are you listening to me, Windwipe?" He asked, voice quivering with anger.
"My name is not Windwipe. It's Windshield," the short one answered. He seemed scared by the sound of his tone. While the giant quivered with rage, Windshield shook with terror.
"Yer name's what I say it is, Windwipe! Now get back to work!" The big one screamed, tossing Windshield into the sewer mud recklessly. He raised his fist, ready to strike the small bot one more time—but he stopped his hand.
"Meh, don't serve me to damage Functionist property," he scoffed and turned away from Windshield, ready to walk away.
Windshield stood up, cleaning the mud off his face. The lumbering grunt stood to a halt when he realized his smaller kin still wanted to say more.
"Got something to say, Windwipe?" He asked, turning his head over the shoulder so that the two of them could see eye to eye. His optic slid towards Windshield's fist and saw it was quenched.
"Awww, that's cute. You've got spirit for a janitor."
The brute chuckled.
"So I will ask again. Got something to say?"
Windshield took a step towards his giant counterpart.
"You ever heard of Megatronus?" He asked.
"Oh, ya haven't been listening to his slagged propaganda again, were ya? Would be a shame if I had ta report ya to the Functionists."
The brute sighed.
"Look, kid. I'll forget this ever happened if ya get back to work right now."
Windshield stood his ground. He narrowed his optics.
"No! Megatronus will deal with scum like you and deliver us from slavery," he shouted, entire frame quivering wildly, only a few ticks away from lunging onto the tyrant.
These threats did not phase the big bot. Or at least, that is what it looked like. In reality, he was itching to obliterate the insubordinate Windshield. The only thing that held him back was the premise of Functionist punishment, should he damage one of their cleaning units.
And so, he merely let out a condescending laugh.
"Oh, sure he will. I'm shaking in me pedes."
He walked away then. Windshield, unable to act, turned around to do his job. But he knew, deep inside, that a day would come when he will be the one laughing, a day when Megatronus elevates the downtrodden above their usurpers—usurpers like Loadhaul, his overseer.