Rebecca Hb. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beckyh2112) wrote2006-09-22 12:00 am
beckyh2112) wrote2006-09-22 12:00 am
31_days and a few other things
Southern pop quiz time!
TF2K5ers: Due to the current college time-crunch and my general lack of fun with the character, I'll probably give up Blitzwing sometime next week.
Title: Acherontia atropos (1/3)
Day/Theme: Sept. 22 'between Cinderella or Kafka's Cockroach'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Constructicons, femme
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. A femme comes to the Constructicons, looking to hire them for a rebuild.
A/N: This ficlet is predicated on the fan-theory that femmes are living software patches for their boyfriends. Personally, it's a theory I detest, but it makes the fic work.
Part 2
Part 3
---
She approached the Constructicons while they were tearing down the on-site office for the Principal Office construction. The femme waited until they noticed her and then some, while the homme's head tied to her hip-mounted cannon turned slowly in the wind.
They gave her sidelong glances as they worked, taking in the treads covering her legs and the turret her cannon attached to with a certain aplomb. She didn't have anyone's nameglyph cut into her design anywhere, though. War-build femmes were rather common, much more common than service-build ones, but Scrapper didn't think he'd ever seen an unattached one, except when she was fresh built.
This one wasn't fresh-built, and it didn't look like she wanted to be calibrated for patching a homme anytime soon. The head spoke volumes about that.
She kept her arms folded across her chest as she looked at them. They continued to work, sometimes stepping around her as they loaded Long Haul up with the important parts.
The corner of her mouth twitched up. "I heard you were the best engineers in the world."
They all stopped working briefly, then Bonecrusher grabbed up Hook's medical kit and Mixmaster snapped at him to be careful with it, he had volatile chemicals loaded in there! Scrapper decided not to ask why.
"Well," Scrapper began. "Some might say that, but-"
"Yes," Hook interrupted. "We are."
The femme raised her chin imperiously. "I want to hire you to rebuild me."
Scrapper and Hook glanced at each other, but it was Mixmaster who asked the obvious question. "As?"
"A homme. The same alt-mode as now, but not a femme anymore."
Scavenger nearly tripped over his own tail, and Bonecrusher absently grabbed him by the shoulder to keep him from taking a tumble. All of the Constructicons turned to stare at the femme, red optics flickering. Hers remained as steady as when she'd first approached them.
Hook was the first to find an answer. "That cannot be done."
Her chin rose a fraction of an inch, optics brightening rapidly.
"Wait-wait!" Mixmaster waved his hands to attract her attention. "We'd have to change your laser-core to do that, but then you wouldn't be whoever you are, g-got it?"
"But you can do something?" She pressed.
She was sharp, Scrapper had to admit. Very sharp. "We could rebuild your shell, make you look like a homme, sound like a homme, move like a homme. No one would know unless they knew your internals intimately."
The femme drummed her fingers against her upper arm. "What price?"
"Well, that all depends on what we get out of the job," Hook purred.
At the dimming of her optics and the slight hum in the air from her cannon, Scavenger hastily clarified, "We're technicians! We like to learn new things! No patching needed here!"
"All right." The cannon powered down.
Scrapper hrmed. "What's your name? I'll need a contact point to show the plans to."
"Megatron."
TF2K5ers: Due to the current college time-crunch and my general lack of fun with the character, I'll probably give up Blitzwing sometime next week.
Title: Acherontia atropos (1/3)
Day/Theme: Sept. 22 'between Cinderella or Kafka's Cockroach'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Constructicons, femme
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. A femme comes to the Constructicons, looking to hire them for a rebuild.
A/N: This ficlet is predicated on the fan-theory that femmes are living software patches for their boyfriends. Personally, it's a theory I detest, but it makes the fic work.
Part 2
Part 3
---
She approached the Constructicons while they were tearing down the on-site office for the Principal Office construction. The femme waited until they noticed her and then some, while the homme's head tied to her hip-mounted cannon turned slowly in the wind.
They gave her sidelong glances as they worked, taking in the treads covering her legs and the turret her cannon attached to with a certain aplomb. She didn't have anyone's nameglyph cut into her design anywhere, though. War-build femmes were rather common, much more common than service-build ones, but Scrapper didn't think he'd ever seen an unattached one, except when she was fresh built.
This one wasn't fresh-built, and it didn't look like she wanted to be calibrated for patching a homme anytime soon. The head spoke volumes about that.
She kept her arms folded across her chest as she looked at them. They continued to work, sometimes stepping around her as they loaded Long Haul up with the important parts.
The corner of her mouth twitched up. "I heard you were the best engineers in the world."
They all stopped working briefly, then Bonecrusher grabbed up Hook's medical kit and Mixmaster snapped at him to be careful with it, he had volatile chemicals loaded in there! Scrapper decided not to ask why.
"Well," Scrapper began. "Some might say that, but-"
"Yes," Hook interrupted. "We are."
The femme raised her chin imperiously. "I want to hire you to rebuild me."
Scrapper and Hook glanced at each other, but it was Mixmaster who asked the obvious question. "As?"
"A homme. The same alt-mode as now, but not a femme anymore."
Scavenger nearly tripped over his own tail, and Bonecrusher absently grabbed him by the shoulder to keep him from taking a tumble. All of the Constructicons turned to stare at the femme, red optics flickering. Hers remained as steady as when she'd first approached them.
Hook was the first to find an answer. "That cannot be done."
Her chin rose a fraction of an inch, optics brightening rapidly.
"Wait-wait!" Mixmaster waved his hands to attract her attention. "We'd have to change your laser-core to do that, but then you wouldn't be whoever you are, g-got it?"
"But you can do something?" She pressed.
She was sharp, Scrapper had to admit. Very sharp. "We could rebuild your shell, make you look like a homme, sound like a homme, move like a homme. No one would know unless they knew your internals intimately."
The femme drummed her fingers against her upper arm. "What price?"
"Well, that all depends on what we get out of the job," Hook purred.
At the dimming of her optics and the slight hum in the air from her cannon, Scavenger hastily clarified, "We're technicians! We like to learn new things! No patching needed here!"
"All right." The cannon powered down.
Scrapper hrmed. "What's your name? I'll need a contact point to show the plans to."
"Megatron."