Tunnels

Jan. 16th, 2010 09:16 pm
quidamling: (Hourglass)
Title: Tunnels
'Verse: Very Pre- 07/09movie'verse
Characters: Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, two Enforcers :meow:, mentioned Megatron
Summary: It's hardest to move forward when you can't see the path ahead.
Rating/Warnings: PG
AN: I have been bunnied on the train. But never by the train... thus the tunnel musing from where my commute goes from subway to elevated track.

And I honestly have no idea what this was, or where it's going or what. I just sorta followed along until it seemed to reach a circle. :O_o:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's hardest to move forward when you can't see the path ahead... )

Roll Call

Jan. 2nd, 2010 04:23 pm
quidamling: (Hourglass)
Title: Roll Call
'Verse: "Emergency 'Verse." A Transformers-as-Humans alternate universe. They're all centered around one Police/Fire/EMT crew.
Characters:  Autobots. Guess who's who. :mwahaha:
Summary: Chief of Police Forst has been missing her husband.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, smut, P w/ a light dabble of P
AN: This is a 'verse that kitteh and Ruu and I dabble in. So fair credit to them. Semi-warning for rampant swapping of genders, if that helps figure who people are.

My secret (or not so secret) goal in this was to get most/all of the characters intro'd or at least mentioned in one fic. And hey, bonus smut.

And yes, if people are totally confused, I'll say who's who. 83

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

What happens at the House, stays at the House... )
quidamling: (whut-guin)
Title: The music meme that goes around every once in a while, play random songs, write till they end. 
'Verse: Totally random
Characters: Whoever volunteered
Summary: Ummm... even I don't always know.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
AN: I ALWAYS cheat, and finish it.   I am unrepentant about this.

These wander through about any plot bunny/AU I have access to or dabble in.   There are blatant contradictions.  I am also unrepentant about this.  ♥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is usually the length I can handle... )

Crack-fic

Mar. 15th, 2009 07:50 pm
quidamling: (Hi fish)
Title: Don't Make Bets with Wheeljack...
'Verse: Post '07movie
Characters: Ironhide, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Optimus, Lennox, Epps, various randomly updated G1 mechs (sometimes used friends' RP-alts )
Summary: Ratchet and Wheeljack take it upon themselves to embarrass 'Hide, 'cause they can.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; hinted pairings, Cybertronian swears, weird crack 
AN:  Someone has their G1 alt when I know their movie one is smth else.  I know, I know. ♥
Bunny-credit goes to [livejournal.com profile] runyasan08 .  I grew up in New England and don't know jack about truck pulls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Character-fest... )

Marked

Nov. 9th, 2008 05:46 pm
quidamling: ('Hide love)
i have no excuse.  this came in that moment between sleep and awake when characters can completely take over your brain.  and someone revealed a secret that i just had to flush out.

warnings for rampant, prolly to the point of horrific, cavity-inducing fluff.

apparently tacked on to a Cybertronian equivalent of wedding bands.  *shrug*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glyphs )
quidamling: (eh!)
Just a little bit of brain calisthenics to see if neurons can still fire....  answer is: "sorta"

'Revolution' - Beatles

Sam had always sort of liked that song.  He could listen to music from before he was born without rolling his eyes.  His dad had taught him all the greats, 60s Rock and Roll, 70s classic rock, 80s power ballads. 

Revolution, wanting to change the world.  Seemed like things that the politicians could manage, the glitterati were spokespeople for… save the rainforests, save the whales, save mankind and the planet Earth…

They never mentioned the last one like it was something that one person could accomplish.  The teenager that managed to rescue his home and everyone he knew from a giant alien overlord; he effectively changed the course of a genocide of mechical beings that was covered with the silken words of a silver tongue.  ‘Revolution,’ the youth could never listen to the song the same way.


'Rafiki Mourns' – Broadway Lion King
A few words, then silence.  Surrounded by aliens, more than a billion to one.  The silver frame hung heavy in his hands.  The frame of his brother, molten and broken at his feet. Three subordinates still online that needed attention, direction, protection in a universe suddenly utterly changed.  Look to the living.  As the youngest of their number speaks up, for the first time in vorns, he is thankfully held to the present.  Mourning must be later.

Work is to be done; the medic looks to the others, drowning himself in his duties.  The warrior concerns himself with security and a base.  The youngest has a charge, another to focus on. 

After meetings, coordination, secrets and stories and hidden among the people of their new home.  Then, only then does he find the time.  The isolation.  The others needed him stoic and strong. 

He finally found a fitting tribute to a dear friend, a subordinate, trusted advisor and expressive young mech he had attempted to corral down the right path.  And this mech had been different, unique, and for so long, his Second on a distant journey.

Found release in the music of this new world.  Sometimes words, sometimes anguished cries, tones so joyful or melancholy that they seemed capable of melting your spark.

He dropped to his knees, away from view of any of the others, awash in the sounds and letting the shudders wrack his frame.  Cathartic, and Optimus felt that it was fitting to mourn Jazz with the music he'd had so little time on this planet to explore.


'When the Heartache Ends' – Rob Thomas
There is something terribly wrong.  You’re brittle.  You’ve never been like this in your whole existence.  I know, I was there since the beginning.  Always been, in some way, because you’ve tied shackles around my spark.  And it’s alright.  I move all directions, others, you, corners, and the outskirts, the battlefield, my duties.  Near you, in whatever I am allowed.  Everyone knows, it seems, the whispers.  But in this, I can’t care.  There is no way I could spend eternity without you.  

I’m there. 

It’s never easy with you.  I never know quite what breaks you or makes you whole. 

So I stand here silent, and almost start to feel you caving in.  I try to hold the pieces together.   I don’t know what terrifies you so much.  Why we seem to fight about nothing.  And fight.  Not snark back and forth, darling Terror.  We fight

I dig, but can’t get to where you have buried yourself.

Why don’t you tell me, my friend?

Something deep down tells me to hold on.  You just need to know, it’s alright.  I’ll still be here when the sparkache ends.
quidamling: (whut-guin)

Runya: though, seriously, Optimus should be RETARDED BY NOW.

‘Hide: *flicks helm*  So wait, you get dumber each time you die?

Optimus:  *head twitches, soft sigh*  Ironhide, it is merely a joke.

‘Hide: That you die?

Optimus: True, in parallel universes. 

‘Hide: Yeah, which you manage to off yourself in, over and over.

Optimus: Aren’t you my bodyguard in most of those parallel universes?

‘Hide: I can only fight fate, if you keep sacrificing yourself.  Though, you keep it up, and end up worse off each time. *smirk*

Optimus: I should not be affected by decisions, or death in other universes.

‘Hide: Not so sure, youngling. Would make sense.  Stress on the processors.

Optimus: As if the wear and tear of vorn after vorn of battle damage does not degrade those circuitboards?

‘Hide: The medic does good repairs.

Optimus: After all this time, is there anything up there to repair, old soldier?

‘Hide: Time or death, Prime?

Optimus: I say ‘time.’ Senility is less reparable damage. 

'Hide: *flexes cannons*  I can still frag your aft.  Senile.

Optimus: *smirks* And you know there is a universe where you are an overeager bumbling greenhorn?

‘Hide: *shudders*  Mute it, youngling. 

sugar coma

Aug. 12th, 2008 07:48 pm
quidamling: (Hi fish)
fic-drablet demanded by Ruu. ♥  

and what Ruu demands, I have to deliver.  even if 'parently it's still in emo-verse.  *shrug*  might prod more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 
quidamling: (Default)
Having too much fun with this... gonna keep editing in...  And no.  I dunno if it's things I could see them saying, quotes I could see them liking, or what...

Wheeljack -
    In the beginning there was nothing, which exploded. -Terry Pratchett
    Sometimes it is better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness. -Terry Pratchett

Optimus Prime -
    If honor were profitable, everybody would be honorable. -Thomas More
    If we don't end war, war will end us. -H. G. Wells
    I not only use all the brains that I have, but all that I can borrow. -Woodrow Wilson
    A sense of humor is part of the art of leadership, of getting along with people, of getting things done. -Dwight D. Eisenhower

Jazz -
    It's not worth doing something unless you were doing something that someone, somewere, would much rather you weren't doing. -Terry Pratchett
   
Starscream -
   
He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour shouting "All the Gods are bastards."  -Terry Pratchett

Sunstreaker -
   
Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life. -Terry Pratchett   
    There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line. -Oscar Levant 
    Genius might be described as a supreme capacity for getting its possessors into trouble of all kinds. -Samuel Butler

Red Alert -
    The truth may be out there, but lies are inside your head. -Terry Pratchett
    That's the secret to life... replace one worry with another....  -Charles M. Schulz 

Megatron -
    Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo
. - H. G. Wells  
    We will make them think it's their idea. That's how all great leaders fool people. -Laura Preble

Ironhide -
    The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on.  -Ulysses S. Grant 
    When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen. -Ernest Hemingway 
    I'd rather get my brains blown out in the wild than wait in terror at the slaughterhouse. -Craig Volk

Prowl - 
    One man that has a mind and knows it can always beat ten men who haven't and don't. -George Bernard Shaw
    To repeat what others have said, requires education; to challenge it, requires brains. -Mary Pettibone Poole 

Not sure who- Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. -Isaac Asimov  
quidamling: (duckie)
Yeah, I just replayed the song until I hit an end point.  Breaking the rules.... blah blah.  Why there are only 3 until the muse ran away.

I have the Touch – Peter Gabriel

He was such a tactile mech.  Not the same sensory net as Jazz, to avoid being detected behind enemy lines.  Nor the sensitive panels flanking his back like Prowl and Bumblebee were equipped with, picking up vibrations, pressure, treble, bass, and wind motion to gather as much information for either retrieval or analysis.

No.  The sensitive pads were much more localized, and for less common but significantly more urgent matters. 

Ratchet’s hands. 

Letting the medic find and repair damage, touch deftly over injury to determine the cause of pain and fix it.  Ironhide loved those hands.  He always found comfort in them, the way those strong, lean digits could move over his frame.  After a battle, those hands had brought him back time and time again.  Flipping forth the required tools to clamp off an energon line as ‘Hide’s fuel drained away, coaxing an abused joint back into place, smoothing over injuries.  The frontliner had slipped into the uneasy recharge post-op with the CMO’s hand resting on his shoulder more times than he cared to count.  It always soothed his spark.

Now as those hands roamed over his faceplates, tracing the scrapes and finding their way to his lip components, shaking with delightful tremors from the attention Ironhide’s own hands were giving to the medic’s back and aft above him, the weapons specialist growled appreciatively.  He reveled in the other reason that he loved those hands.  Taking a single slim finger into his mouth and pressing it gently between his dental plates, the low mewl that escaped from Ratchet nearly made ‘Hide’s spark pulse hard enough to leap from his chamber.
 


The Impossible Dream (finale) – Man of La Mancha

The Prime had to keep positive, cling to the hope that someday Cybertronians would be a united species once again.  There was no real difference between an Autobot and a Decepticon, he was determined.  The Decepticon’s armor and weaponry modifications were to their frames, not their sparks.  It was not truly core programming.  Individuals changed factions, two sparklings of the same creators would sometimes choose opposing sides of the war.  So it came down to individual choices.  On some level they choose to never end the war.  Someday there would either be no one left to fight it, or they would choose to end it. 

He chose the latter.  That impossible positive determination was all he was.  After all, this Prime’s designation was Optimus.


 

How I Go - Yellowcard

Sometimes it was hard being the oldest remaining.  He should have been able to see so many come into being.  Instead, the images of all those he had failed to protect marched through his processors. Final stories told to flickering optics of the once-glories of Iacon, the theater and art in Kaon before it degraded to the bastardization drama of life and death in the gladiatorial arena, the wide metallic plains where radiation from the nearby star was converted to energon while turbofoxes hunted petrorabbits throughout the landscape.

He screamed.  Energon pouring out of a mangled chassis and onto the alien landscape.  He could have seen this planet’s sun coalesce, watched the planet cool from a ball of fire to an earthen sphere nearly covered by water.  Systems crashed, starved for their own life-giving liquid.  The fuel pump buried in his chassis kicked and fluttered, unknowing that there was nothing left to let flow through his energon lines.  Shockwave’s charred frame smoldered nearby, small consolation that he’d sent the fragger to the Matrix ahead of him.

No.  This isn’t it.  Can’t be how it ends.  He’d let them down.  For each that he had held in his arms as their spark slipped away he’d renewed a promise – to see the end of this war.  For each of them.  There was a promise to see their home rebuilt, and life returned.  He moaned, crying out a final time for his comrades.  He’d told the stories again and again to what seemed like deaf audios because every story he told was part of him, their history.  If he was gone, there was no one that truly remembered.  But every story was now a part of them. 

Sorry.  I’m leaving you and there is so much more to do…

The last he heard was a cracking vocalizer screaming, “Ironhide-!"

quidamling: (Hi fish)
Missing You – Imogen Heap

They fit.  Two halves of a whole.  Opposite sides of a credit chip.  Destruction and repair.  Cannons and wrenches.  Then why did it never seem to work?  They would come together for a few brief orns, then pull apart.  Different assignments.  Getting too close.  Usually Ratchet pulled away.  Shutting the door on what consistently developed with a finality that left even the normally stoic Ironhide shattered.  Both would dive back into their duties.  Couldn’t get attached, there was a war.  Drifting to other lovers.  Either could be deactivated.  Always pulled back. 

Because it was too deep.  It terrified the both of them, but they couldn’t deny it.

 

The Harvest – Bill Whalen

Bumblebee practically flew over the plains, careening down the winding rural roads with a gleeful abandon that matched the emotions of the two charges within the Camaro.  Sam and Mikaela had made it.  She had finished school, becoming an engineer.  He had graduated from West Point, becoming the soldier that William Lennox had called him those years ago in Mission City.  Music poured from the yellow vehicle’s sound system, wordless and elated, just like the newlyweds laughing in the driver and passenger seats as they headed cross-country for their honeymoon.  Married in California with all their friends and family, heading to the fall of New England to spend their first days as man and wife.

 

Take on Me – A-ha (Trance Remix)

Jazz liked the feeling of techno.  Prowl just groaned and attempted not to show his exasperation beyond that.  The pulsing beat drove the sensors in his doorwings to distraction.  But his bondmate lit up, feeling the bass and treble just as much as the police cruiser, but reveling in it with his classic abandon.  As loathe as the more sedate portion of the pair was to admit it, he adored watching Jazz move.  The silver mech was lithe and smooth and contorted his frame into positions that no mech had any right getting themselves into.  The grace with which the Solstice moved caught his attention enough to ignore the feathery sensations ghosting over his back, and remain.

 “C’mon Prowler, dance.” 

 “No, I…”  but a sleek white hand slipped into a silver clawed one, and Prowl moved with the music for once, instead of fighting it.

 

Caress of Venus – L’Arc~en~Ciel

Her hips rocked back and forth in the rough tempo of a human heartbeat.  Will paused with the cereal spoon inches from his lips and simply watched Sarah twirl around the kitchen trying to quiet their unhappy daughter.  The tune from his wife’s lips was simple, and the words were garbled, but that didn’t matter to their child.  Annabelle’s cries soon dropped to half-hearted whimpers. 

 “I’m still shocked how you do that, honey.”

 “Ah, Will, you’ll get the hang of it.  You’ve only been Daddy for three days.”  She moved to hover behind the soldier and stroked his temple, calming her other baby.

 

Bootstrap's Bootstraps – Pirates of the Caribbean OST

Optimus Prime stood like a pillar at the edge of chaos.  He was unbowed, despite the fact that the ancient balance between the Prime and the High Protector had collapsed into anarchy under the watches of this red and blue mech and his silver brother.   Iacon had fallen beneath the gladiators culled from the arenas in Kaon.  When the united Cybertronians had split into two opposing factions under the former co-rulers, Optimus had lead with fairness.  Protecting the helpless, giving them the tools to protect themselves, and gathering them together.  That was not what impressed Ironhide most about this young Prime.  It was that when they went into battle, Optimus led the troops from the front lines.  Not cowering behind the battlements like previous Primes.  He was beside them, beside the very frontliners he was ordering into the line of fire.  Ironhide respected that Optimus was by his side.

 

Save Me – Remy Zero

Ratchet was an officer.  He knew that put him at risk.  Further working against him was the fact that he was one of the best medics for traversing the frontlines.  Many medics were built small and lithe.  While Ratchet did posses those qualities in some fashion, moreover he was uncommonly strong and rough.  Thrown harshly in a Decepticon cell, he was thankful for those less common traits.  The interrogator was framed, backlit by the light streaming into the cell and casting a shadow over the battered form of the CMO.  They would get their information; codes, medical histories, through pain or more invasive techniques-  

He knew they would be coming.  They had to.  He couldn’t, wouldn’t just leave him there…

 ‘Hide…

 

Bonny Portmore – Laura Creamer

It hit Optimus hardest in moments that he wasn’t expecting.  As he learned about their new home, Sam had made a point to show the aliens the most beautiful portions of Earth.  It was only as time went on that the Autobots learned about the uglier faces of the planet.  Communities wrecked by natural disasters, pollution, resources wrenched from an area leaving nothing but a swath of desolation, war-torn cities, states, countries, continents.  Seeing the devastation that humans wreaked upon themselves, such a young species with such as short lifespan.  Echoing the million year destruction of his homeworld on a smaller timescale, there were moments it crushed his spark.

 

Your Eyes Open - Keane

They had come online opposite each other.  Destined to rule in balance for the length of their existences.  Red optics alighted, met blues.  Pragmatic and idealistic.  Firm hand, fair processors.  They were supposed to equate each other, finding a middle road between each other.  What Megatron did not tell his brother, his equal, was that deep in his spark, he knew that he was meant for more.

 

Cut Me, Mick - Yellowcard

“Ratch…” he curled reflexively, fighting the shudders wracking through his body.

 “Easy, ‘Hide.  You’re fine.  And you wouldn’t be in this mess if you could have actually behaved.”  The red-headed cyborg snipped while cradling his bondmate to his chest. 

Drug withdrawal or not, Ironhide couldn’t stay sick forever.  They lay under the blankets, while Ratchet felt like he was cooking and wished that he still retained his mech coolant systems.  Unfortunately, the former weapons specialist in his current state could not regulate his body temperature, so the medic quietly dealt with the discomfort and in turn comforted the more solid looking soldier.  He kissed the slightly clammy brow, tucked against his neck in a reversal of their usual positions and ran his hand softly through short dark hair, barely brushing the black fins until Ironhide slipped into an uneasy sleep.

 

Waiting so Long – Berserk OST

Dead planet, starved for energon, devoid of functional Cybertronians… except the few.  Waiting.  Continuing to follow the last order.  Waiting for the message from their leader, saying he had found the Allspark and would return to rule Cybertron, and the galaxy.

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