Rebecca Hb. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beckyh2112) wrote2006-12-16 12:54 am
beckyh2112) wrote2006-12-16 12:54 am
Advent #15: Star Madness
Title: Star Madness
Fandom: G1 Transformers, supposedly
Characters: Catechism, Blitzwing
Classification: Het
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I think my Catechism is off, but I am dead from finals anyway.
---
He sent her things. Little things, bits of himself and his enemies, signs of his path among the trackless void, oddities and strangeness that he put in empty ammo cases and scratched her name and faction into. Sometimes he would include brief notes explaining what he'd sent, and sometimes there would be nothing at all but the thing. Some of the notes suggested still other notes that had never reached her, mislaid among the star-lanes.
She never replied to these gifts; he was a wandering mercenary, there was no way to send anything to him, whereas she, as a member of the flier-elite, didn't have very many places in the galaxy she was supposed to be.
She wanted to hunt him down and force him back to where he belonged. They never let her.
She kept only a few things he sent. The length of his tank barrel that got cut off in a fight. Photographs of a 'blackshark' missile. A thin beaker of golden-glowing energon that hit your processors like a jackhammer.
She didn't understand why he sent her things when he never sent his wingmate anything at all. It didn't quite make sense to her, but none of it really did at all. Maybe he was as mad as they said.
End
(Today's situation inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lunatron. To suggest tomorrow's flashfic, please comment on this entry.)
Fandom: G1 Transformers, supposedly
Characters: Catechism, Blitzwing
Classification: Het
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I think my Catechism is off, but I am dead from finals anyway.
---
He sent her things. Little things, bits of himself and his enemies, signs of his path among the trackless void, oddities and strangeness that he put in empty ammo cases and scratched her name and faction into. Sometimes he would include brief notes explaining what he'd sent, and sometimes there would be nothing at all but the thing. Some of the notes suggested still other notes that had never reached her, mislaid among the star-lanes.
She never replied to these gifts; he was a wandering mercenary, there was no way to send anything to him, whereas she, as a member of the flier-elite, didn't have very many places in the galaxy she was supposed to be.
She wanted to hunt him down and force him back to where he belonged. They never let her.
She kept only a few things he sent. The length of his tank barrel that got cut off in a fight. Photographs of a 'blackshark' missile. A thin beaker of golden-glowing energon that hit your processors like a jackhammer.
She didn't understand why he sent her things when he never sent his wingmate anything at all. It didn't quite make sense to her, but none of it really did at all. Maybe he was as mad as they said.
End
(Today's situation inspired by
lunatron. To suggest tomorrow's flashfic, please comment on this entry.)
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I want some glitterboy. Smexy glitterboy. of the smexy smex. *gryn*
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Suggestion: It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Then it's fun and games you can't see anyone.