|raisedbymoogles (raisedbymoogles) wrote,|
@ 2011-10-23 01:11:00
100 prompts #51-55
51. Unusual (Scourge)
The departed former inhabitant of the planet now known as Chaar had left behind the remains of buildings made of a kind of gray sandstone. It had been sturdy enough for their purposes once, but time and fire had rendered what walls still stood a touch crumbly. Perfect for Scourge's purposes.
He started high, gouging his claws into the stone and pulling straight downward. The stone smoothed the ragged edges of his claws, honing them into a flawless point. He repeated the motion, feeling the strain in his arms and shoulders and back. He filled the wall with vertical stripes, then began to crisscross them one hand at a time.
Scourge knew - at times, was very aware - that his design was unusual among Transformers. Strange, almost alien. Yet as he blew the dust off his hands and admired his sharpened claws, he couldn't be anything but pleased with what he saw.
I'm a deadly instrument, he thought. Even Galvatron's impressed with me. I'm not like the rest of them.
Not that the irony was lost on him, of someone who could create clones of himself reveling in his own uniqueness.
52. Pressure (Cyc)
Cyclonus could virtually hear the whispers as Galvatron gave his commands. It didn't matter that the assembled Decepticons were outwardly silent; the private commlines were no doubt all lit up. The spoken words would follow.
It would fall to Cyclonus, as it always did, to see that Galvatron's orders were carried out. He prepared himself mentally as Galvatron dismissed the assembled troops. He would be busy the next cycles. He would overcome the Decepticons' doubts and fears by force if necessary. He would inspire, he would threaten, he would manipulate this one's vanity or that one's greed. He would pray it all held together long enough to win Galvatron his victory.
"Our gun fodder had better not disappoint," Galvatron rumbled to him as he passed. "I will accept nothing less than total conquest, Cyclonus!"
Cyclonus bowed his head and hid a grimace. No pressure.
53. Nervous (Roddy)
He'd never seen Galvatron like this before. His rival was often angry, consumed by rages that burned like stars but passed quickly; this was different. Galvatron didn't shout or threaten or shoot. He merely watched, face set in a fearsome frown, as Cyclonus and Scourge did the work of binding him. Rodimus squirmed despite himself, earning himself a clip over the helm, under the full force of that hot red gaze.
He still believed Galvatron wouldn't hurt him too badly. But he couldn't remember ever being more aware of the risks he took, when he took the warlord as a lover.
The cuffs and chains were on, and Galvatron stepped forward, his growl a thing of energy-field and tactile vibrations as much as of sound. "Prime... my foolish Prime." Rodimus shuddered at the words, hanging on to 'my' with all his might. "You are too careless with yourself. You never should have been near enough to that smelting pit to fall in."
Rodimus winced; though he was fully repaired from that little adventure, he could still feel the searing, terrible heat licking into his plating every time he shut off his optics. "You knew about that?" he asked. Scourge's nails dug into his arm, a warning not to insult his spy skills like that. Rodimus tensed, ducking his head apologetically.
"Oh yes, I heard about that." Gavatron stepped closer, caught his chin and forced it up. "And it made me quite... upset."
The rumble in his voice was echoed by Cyclonus and Scourge on either side. Rodimus jerked with the sudden knowledge that the two of them shared their brother's feelings, but he couldn't look at them, Galvatron's gaze restraining him more effectively than Galvatron's hand.
"Now," Galvatron told him, "you're going to discover what happens when you upset me." The grip changed, became a possessive caress.
Rodimus's nervousness didn't abate, but it was joined by devotion and roaring arousal.
54. Predatory (Roddy/Cyc)
The cracked cityscape on the edges of Unicron's handprint was a tangled obstacle course, deadly for the wings of a flier. Cyclonus could have risen over the tangle and been past the area in a matter of astroseconds, but then he would have lost sight of his prey. That he could not allow to happen.
Although he had pride in his abilities as a flier, Cyclonus had never indulged overmuch in the classic flier superiority complex. Groundmechs could be deadly opponents; Autobot groundmechs in particular knew many ways to clip a careless flier's wings. The particular grounder Cyclonus chased was clever and unpredictable, and had spent most of his life in the mazelike warrens of Cybertron's underground, not unlike the maze he ran now. If Cyclonus faltered, made the slightest mistake, he would be lost.
Cyclonus gunned his engines and twisted in the air, avoiding having his wings shredded by scant millimeters as his followed his prey down a side passage. The Autobot cried out, whether in fear or excitement Cyclonus couldn't tell, and tumble-scampered over a heap of fallen metal. The drop on the far side was deeper than the rise on the near - with a yelp, the Autobot disappeared from view, and Cyclonus as he dove after him. If he lost his quarry now, when he was so close-!
-But he hadn't, and still dizzy from the drop, the Autobot couldn't quite recover fast enough. Cyclonus transformed and tackled him, driving them both into the far wall of a dead end.
That was the thing about the underground - they were as likely as not to turn pathways into traps, and this maze was Unicron-created and eager to betray the chosen one of Primus.
The Chosen struggled weakly underneath him; "Enjoying yourself, Cyc?" Rodimus laughed in his audial.
"Oh yes, Prime," Cyclonus purred, squeezing the plating in his grip. "And now - I'm going - to enjoy you."
His prey trembled against him; Cyclonus smirked.
55. Trustworthy (Galvatron)
"Because I don't trust you with my Prime," Magnus growled, hands flexing in anticipation, and Galvatron laughed.
"You know me, Ultra Magnus," the warlord told him, still laughing, fondling his cannon. "What is it your delightful file says about me? 'Violent, selfish, relentless, and utterly untrustworthy.' " Magnus didn't blink, but he made a mental note to plug the holes in the Autobot database's firewall.
Galvatron spread his hands innocently. "I'm not denying it! I am what you say I am. But that means you can predict what I will do." He paced around Magnus, circling him, growling. "I will take, I will conquer, I will destroy. In that, Autobot, I am..." He smirked. "Utterly trustworthy."
"All the more reason to keep Rodimus away from you."
"If you can," Galvatron mocked. "Rodimus Prime, with his reckless courage and his determination to do the right thing... he's the one you don't trust."
Again, Magnus found his defenses unsatisfactory.