Return Chapter 7A/N: HELLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOO!
As I promised my faith readers, the next bit! And I want to thank the everyone that has read this little fic that started on a whim. I'm glad a lot of people took up interest.
I'm especially thankful to Dream'sRealm on , who was encouraging me as I gave her random little progress updates on how this chapter was going.
With further ado, read on!
P'len looked down into the small water basin she held in her lap. She sighed and picked up a rough washcloth with her good hand. The Astorian dunked it into the water and scrubbed her face.
After five minutes of that she dumped the water in the sink. She stood up and tucked the basin under her arm.
As she opened the door, she's face to face with the Volkregian Blue Lantern. His hand was poised to knock.
"Oh!" Razer jumped back, bumping into Saint Walker.
They stared at each other, embarrassed.
The awkward silence was broken
First EncounterA/N: Dear :icondiedott: . . .
Oi! I'm sorry it took so darn long to finish this! Forgive me on the shortness of it as well.
Starscream sighed as he waited next to the canisters of energon samples. Primus, how much longer did he have to wait? The Seeker's patience was wearing thin.
He had his own experiments to worry about back in Vos. As the war started to pick up, it started to become apparent that scientists and medics would be needed to conduct procedures and tests. The tests would be administered to turbo-foxes or 'willing' volunteers to see how chemical enhancements would react to their bodies. Another would be how to figure out how to create the next super soldier-
And Starscream could only get back to that if some bot. Would. Just. Hurry. Up.
"Primus, where in the Pit is this Knock Out mech I'm supposed to deliver these to?" Starscream exclaimed. His wings pulled up taut with annoyance. Several bots scrambled away from the scientist as others didn't make
Secret Santa 2013A/N: Merry Christmas :iconsan5vern:. I did my best with the characterization of TFA Rodimus and Hot Shot. I hope you enjoy the little story here nevertheless.
Part of :iconrosey-raven:'s Secret Santa event.
"Easy there youngling," Red Alert quietly said. Hot Shot grimaced as he was forced to hop into the med-bay on the account of his damaged/missing leg.
"I'm-I'll be fine Red, just set me down there," Hot Shot exhaled shakily.
Red Alert maneuvered him to a berth right beside Rodimus Prime. The young Prime was fast asleep, still recovering from his nasty encounter with Cosmic Rust. The rust patches were all gone, thankfully, but it did a number to his systems, causing him to recharge often.
Red became aware that the blue and yellow youngling picked at the bandages that were wrapped around his midsection.
"Tck!" Red Alert swatted at that offending servo.
"It itches!" Hot Shot whined.
"Itches or not, that will have to stay in place. You got a nasty gash t
Having A Merry TimeA/N: To :iconCaptainDashund: . . .
Dear Primus I am so sorry for the near two year wait for this! In truth, I had a hard time with this because of figuring out how your OCs are, and how tall they were in comparison to each other-I hope you don't mind that I took some liberties in the height department-and I had to read their bios again and again to try to get them right.
Please forgive me for the shortness as well. I hope you like it nevertheless.
"VANISH! LET'S GO HAVE SOME FUN!"
Vanishvision tried not to rub his forehead in frustration. "Wheel, can you please leave me alone?" He ignored the femme that nudged his ankle with her pede. When it got too much however, he gritted his teeth.
"Wheel. Can you not understand that I have monitor duty?"
Wheel pouted. "You're no fun!"
"Ah, c'mon Wheel," a new voice said. Vanish and Wheel looked up to see Dingydevil, their fellow teammate, walk in. "You know that Vanish is dedicated to his wor
No Good Deed Goes UnpunishedTempest wasn't the sort to go to Maccadam's Oil House the night before a huge test the next solar cycle.
However, one of her classmates, who was also her best friend, had convinced the promising medical student to go to the rowdy place.
The red and white med student shyly stepped into the loud bar. The main floor was full of tables and chairs for patrons. Tempest lowered the sensitivity on her wings as she entered the famous establishment.
She hailed a waiter-femme and mentioned the name of her friend. "Pyre said that I could have her usual spot," Tempest explained. The femme had to shout her clarification once again as a popular song came on over the speakers. The beat thundered against her chassis.
Soon, Tempest was led to a table that bordered the Decepticon side of the bar. "This is Pyre's table?" The red and white femme's wings flicked up in surprise. Pyre was well known in the Autobot Academy for her vehemence against the Decepticons. She even went as far as to vandalize the rema
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Just the plot and the OC.
Ratchet stared at his star pupil with disbelief. "What do you mean you won't be coming back next semester?" the medical professor questioned.
The mech in front of him was a slender youngling. His gray armor was a bit dingy, and had claw-like digits that could scare the daylights out of sparklings. However, he had a kind demeanor to match with his prowess in Cybertronian medicine.
Finals had just been finished. The class had eagerly left for the upcoming break from the university; all except for the student that remained.
"Steel, what do you mean? Why aren't you coming back next semester?" Ratchet reiterated.
"My Sire's wishes, sir," Steel shuffled his pedes. He didn't look at Ratchet as he added, "He says that my education is all for naught since the scholarship pays for only the first semester."
"That is absurd," Ratchet h
Budding IntrigueTempest sighed in relief as she stepped off the ship. It had been far too long since the last colony they stopped on to refuel. She straightened up and stretched a bit. However, her paralyzed wings remained limp. She exhaled and stepped down the gangplank.
As she stepped off, the inclined plane zipped back up into the ship. The medic turned to see the ship lock itself.
"All right all of you!" Optimus said aloud, getting the rest of the ship's crew to listen. The normally chatty group quickly shushed itself. "We're only there for two solar cycles, but you need to get back onto the ship in three mega-cycles. All the stragglers will be left to fend for themselves outside, where it is cold. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir!" As quickly as they came, the group scattered about.
Tempest looked around for her buddy, but she didn't see him. The flier sighed. He probably went off with his twin then-
She jolted when a blue servo landed on her shoulder. Tempest looked up in alarm,
Halloween Secret Santa"Are you sure I look fine in this?" Hope looked at herself in the mirror as Fox stepped back a bit. Hope's gaze lingered upon the light green and purple butterfly-like wings placed atop her door-wings. A short skirt descended down her hips in light blues and greens. The light material tickled against her legs. The shorter femme smoothed it over as Fox carefully placed the small tiara on top of her helm.
"There! It's complete," Fox smiled.
Hope looked into the mirror. She couldn't help but smile at the costume she was in. A fairy seemed to suit her. "Thanks for helping me put it on Fox," the medic smiled. Her door-wings fluttered, making the butterfly wings flap as well.
"No problem, and it's nothing really," Fox moved about the room, gathering the last bits of decorations. "You helped me tremendously with the decoration of the whole place."
The gray and chocolate brown femme was hosting a party, and it was going to happen within a few cycles. Hope had come by earlier to get some assis
Making Up For Lost Time II: Message DeliverySeveral vorns ago . . .
Smokescreen sat in one of the outdoor tables near his next class. One data-pad was on the table as the other was in his lap. The mech had one end of his stylus stuck on his mouth.
He glared at the historical information. As much as he liked history of the Thirteen Primes . . .
Frustrated, the mostly white mech rubbed his optics. His denta gritted against the stylus.
Smokescreen looked up.
Oh, it was New Guy. The youngling was a transfer from one of the smaller academies just outside the city.
He was very late coming into the first day of the year. The poor transfer student was a hyperventilating mess as he burst through the door. His action startled the professor and the class of forty.
Smokescreen looked him up and down. The yellow and black mech had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Three data-pads were in his right servo.
He seemed nice enough.
"Yeah?" Smokescreen replied nonchalantly. He took out the writing utensil in his mouth