Glances Into a Spark - Winging it
Title: Glances Into a Spark - Winging it
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Megatron, Starscream,
Rating: PG
Summary: Slightly interested, he sat up to get a better view of the contestants. Picking out the engineer from the three wasn't difficult; he was the only one not engaging in an overblown display of flaunting. He didn't need to flaunt.
Warnings: Violence
Notes: calger459 is amazerful and occasionally gives me the greatest inspirations I could ask for. This one's been floating around upstairs since bloody August, but it wasn't until watching Screamer's epic Jet Judo in the movie that I knew what I was going to do with it. The art that inspired it.
Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank every person who reviews and enjoys my writing. Even if I don't always respond, I always appreciate the almost overwhelming support you guys give me.
Table of Contents
o o o
Megatron stared at the course with sightless optics. Below, three graceful shapes chased each other up a narrow canyon, thrusters leaving dim aftertrails to mark their paths while the crowds cheered.
Megatron tuned the noise out with mild irritation. Aerial displays bored him half to deactivation, despite his Seeker design. Certainly, Seekers had their uses, and flight was an invaluable advantage in any combat situation, but too often, Cybertron's flighted citizens were all show and no substance, preening in their building-top hangars with completely unwarranted arrogance and flaunting their ability to escape gravity over the 'useless ground-pounders'.
Not that he himself didn't have his pride. But he had the skills to back up whatever claims he made, and he had no patience for flimsy displays.
"Look, brother," Megatron gave the mech beside him a bland look, and Optimus Prime gave him an amused smile in return. "No, not at me. The Seeker in this next segment is modeled after your basic design, it seems they've simplified it a bit to improve atmospheric drag-"
"I'm hardly obsolete," Megatron growled, barely restraining himself from adding a few rude words at the end of his sentence. Since he, the Lord High Protector and military leader of Cybertron, was bored out of his wits, of course his pacifist brother was completely fascinated. Which was made all the worst by the fact that he was required to appear, and Optimus was not.
Lovely.
Optimus gave him one of those looks, long and seeing straight through him. "I forget that you were on the consultant board that approved of these new designs," the Prime said softly.
Any other mech would have said something condescending, or taunting, or scolding. Not Optimus, and Megatron felt his irritation with his brother dissipate. A gift of the Matrix, to be able to read a mech and know just what to say to diffuse a situation - or inflame it, and Optimus wielded both with considerable skill. But now, he was all placating, trying to get them through this orn.
Megatron wanted none of it. Being grumpy every now and again felt good. "Can I leave yet?" he hissed under his breath. "I have better things to do than sit here and watch a group of air-headed idiots dance."
Optimus sighed, sitting back in his seat. "You can leave whenever you want," he pointed out, equally quiet, both too aware of the other dignitaries in the viewing booth. "But I think the Trion's would turn your head around backwards for you if you offended our guests by dropping early."
Pit. Why hadn't he ever assigned an Air Commander? He could have easily put this task on a subordinate's shoulders and escaped back to the politics-free sanctuary of his private quarters. But now he was stuck here, explaining the processor-numbing intricacies of the dances outside of the windows to the painfully stupid ambassadors from some inorganic planet half a galaxy away from Cybertron.
Finally! The main military segment of the showing was finished, and the rest of it would be civilian engineers coming forward to flaunt their creations. He could stick around and watch one out of politeness, and he'd be free to excuse himself. His lieutenants would report any interesting developments to him later, and Optimus could play host to the spindly little ambassadors.
The first of the civilian showings would be a battle between three Seekers, settling some dispute or other between them. Megatron didn't care much for the reasons behind their tift, and he was dimly aware that perhaps he shouldn't be slouching in his seat so much, but his foul mood was steadily sapping his ability to remain the pleasant and polite host he should be. Optimus gave him an exasperated look and turned to the dignitaries at his side, all fluid hand motions as he explained that this was an almost-traditional part of any Showing, that engineers could appear before the people of Cybertron to settle their disputes once and for all.
Megatron scanned the contestant's files briefly out of habit. Hm. One of the three was also the engineer involved in the dispute; a rare thing, as most engineers preferred to modify others instead of doing the work on themselves. Idly, Megatron tapped into the Network, calling up information on this engineer - a scientist of some renown, with a basis in exploration but ties to damn near every scientific field on Cybertron, and a permanent place on the Academy's roster. The other two engineers were colleagues of his, and he'd insulted them somehow or other, suggesting that their modifications weren't worth the cost of the ores that made them. And to prove it, he offered to rip them apart with his own hands.
Hm.
Slightly interested, he sat up to get a better view of the contestants. Picking out the engineer from the three wasn't difficult; he was the only one not engaging in an overblown display of flaunting. He didn't need to flaunt. He wasn't much bigger than the other two, but he practically radiated power and confidence, a subtle influence that made the dramatic displays of his opponents look silly. The other two engineers were there, too, almost lost beneath the towering Seekers, their faces twisted in barely-checked disgust and anger. The engineer-Seeker gave them a long, cold look and dismissed them, raising his head to look over the crowds, proud and calm.
For a brief moment, he looked directly at Megatron. The tiniest drop of his head; acknowledgement. Megatron leaned forward.
Announcements made, names called, and with a klaxon blare, the battle began. The three mechs transformed and rocketed into the air, customized thrusters roaring. The engineer was slower than the other two, seeming to struggle to gain lift-off and the other two left him behind quickly. He stabilized just above the roof-line of the nearest towers, banking into a wide circle while the others looped back towards him. A double scream echoed off of Trypticon's buildings as the two warriors honed in on their prey.
The engineer dropped like a rock out of their path and transformed.
Megatron suspected he was grinning. The engineer was fast, his previous instability a ruse as he curved back up, half alt-mode and half-bipedal. He shot between the two hunters, raking long claws along their flanks and he transformed again between them, thrusters roaring to blast at their scraped armor. He arrowed up in alt-mode, spiraling into the climb, the enraged hunters on his tail. He peaked high above the city and transformed again, falling in his bipedal mode, powerful cannons on each arm ripping more armor from the other two as they tried to turn back towards him without stalling.
When he transformed again, it was within bare ticks of the heads of some of the audience, the backwash of his thrusters clearly blistering armor as he zipped over their heads. He looped back up, aiming directly for the red hunter, who closed in on him in obvious eagerness. The distance between them shortened frighteningly fast, the unburnt portion of the audience leaned forward - and the engineer veered, tackling the blue hunter instead, landing on the warrior's back, all claws and kicks and those powerful guns.
Blue went down, hard. He did not move.
Red screamed in outrage, chasing after the engineer, who was speeding back into the sky. They spiraled around each other, engaging in brief claw battles, raining metal shreds on the observers below. For a moment or two, Red had the upper hand, until the scientist managed to get behind him and transform enough to grab the warrior, and the groan of overstressed metal permeated even the thick crystal window Megatron was looking through, punctuated by a cry of agony. The hunter, his wing not quite ripped off but certainly pulled far out of joint, was barely able to control his fall back to the ground below. Just as he moved to land, still in his alt-form, the engineer slammed into him with all limbs, smashing him into the ground.
Megatron sat back, impressed. Elegant, fierce, brutal, and according to the records he'd pulled up, a veritable genius. Beside him, Optimus looked as troubled by the violent display as Megatron wasn't, his face set into uncharacteristically stiff lines. Below, the announcer was proclaiming what everyone else already knew. "The winner: Starscream!"
Megatron smiled. He'd just found his new Air Commander.
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Megatron, Starscream,
Rating: PG
Summary: Slightly interested, he sat up to get a better view of the contestants. Picking out the engineer from the three wasn't difficult; he was the only one not engaging in an overblown display of flaunting. He didn't need to flaunt.
Warnings: Violence
Notes: calger459 is amazerful and occasionally gives me the greatest inspirations I could ask for. This one's been floating around upstairs since bloody August, but it wasn't until watching Screamer's epic Jet Judo in the movie that I knew what I was going to do with it. The art that inspired it.
Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank every person who reviews and enjoys my writing. Even if I don't always respond, I always appreciate the almost overwhelming support you guys give me.
Table of Contents
o o o
Megatron stared at the course with sightless optics. Below, three graceful shapes chased each other up a narrow canyon, thrusters leaving dim aftertrails to mark their paths while the crowds cheered.
Megatron tuned the noise out with mild irritation. Aerial displays bored him half to deactivation, despite his Seeker design. Certainly, Seekers had their uses, and flight was an invaluable advantage in any combat situation, but too often, Cybertron's flighted citizens were all show and no substance, preening in their building-top hangars with completely unwarranted arrogance and flaunting their ability to escape gravity over the 'useless ground-pounders'.
Not that he himself didn't have his pride. But he had the skills to back up whatever claims he made, and he had no patience for flimsy displays.
"Look, brother," Megatron gave the mech beside him a bland look, and Optimus Prime gave him an amused smile in return. "No, not at me. The Seeker in this next segment is modeled after your basic design, it seems they've simplified it a bit to improve atmospheric drag-"
"I'm hardly obsolete," Megatron growled, barely restraining himself from adding a few rude words at the end of his sentence. Since he, the Lord High Protector and military leader of Cybertron, was bored out of his wits, of course his pacifist brother was completely fascinated. Which was made all the worst by the fact that he was required to appear, and Optimus was not.
Lovely.
Optimus gave him one of those looks, long and seeing straight through him. "I forget that you were on the consultant board that approved of these new designs," the Prime said softly.
Any other mech would have said something condescending, or taunting, or scolding. Not Optimus, and Megatron felt his irritation with his brother dissipate. A gift of the Matrix, to be able to read a mech and know just what to say to diffuse a situation - or inflame it, and Optimus wielded both with considerable skill. But now, he was all placating, trying to get them through this orn.
Megatron wanted none of it. Being grumpy every now and again felt good. "Can I leave yet?" he hissed under his breath. "I have better things to do than sit here and watch a group of air-headed idiots dance."
Optimus sighed, sitting back in his seat. "You can leave whenever you want," he pointed out, equally quiet, both too aware of the other dignitaries in the viewing booth. "But I think the Trion's would turn your head around backwards for you if you offended our guests by dropping early."
Pit. Why hadn't he ever assigned an Air Commander? He could have easily put this task on a subordinate's shoulders and escaped back to the politics-free sanctuary of his private quarters. But now he was stuck here, explaining the processor-numbing intricacies of the dances outside of the windows to the painfully stupid ambassadors from some inorganic planet half a galaxy away from Cybertron.
Finally! The main military segment of the showing was finished, and the rest of it would be civilian engineers coming forward to flaunt their creations. He could stick around and watch one out of politeness, and he'd be free to excuse himself. His lieutenants would report any interesting developments to him later, and Optimus could play host to the spindly little ambassadors.
The first of the civilian showings would be a battle between three Seekers, settling some dispute or other between them. Megatron didn't care much for the reasons behind their tift, and he was dimly aware that perhaps he shouldn't be slouching in his seat so much, but his foul mood was steadily sapping his ability to remain the pleasant and polite host he should be. Optimus gave him an exasperated look and turned to the dignitaries at his side, all fluid hand motions as he explained that this was an almost-traditional part of any Showing, that engineers could appear before the people of Cybertron to settle their disputes once and for all.
Megatron scanned the contestant's files briefly out of habit. Hm. One of the three was also the engineer involved in the dispute; a rare thing, as most engineers preferred to modify others instead of doing the work on themselves. Idly, Megatron tapped into the Network, calling up information on this engineer - a scientist of some renown, with a basis in exploration but ties to damn near every scientific field on Cybertron, and a permanent place on the Academy's roster. The other two engineers were colleagues of his, and he'd insulted them somehow or other, suggesting that their modifications weren't worth the cost of the ores that made them. And to prove it, he offered to rip them apart with his own hands.
Hm.
Slightly interested, he sat up to get a better view of the contestants. Picking out the engineer from the three wasn't difficult; he was the only one not engaging in an overblown display of flaunting. He didn't need to flaunt. He wasn't much bigger than the other two, but he practically radiated power and confidence, a subtle influence that made the dramatic displays of his opponents look silly. The other two engineers were there, too, almost lost beneath the towering Seekers, their faces twisted in barely-checked disgust and anger. The engineer-Seeker gave them a long, cold look and dismissed them, raising his head to look over the crowds, proud and calm.
For a brief moment, he looked directly at Megatron. The tiniest drop of his head; acknowledgement. Megatron leaned forward.
Announcements made, names called, and with a klaxon blare, the battle began. The three mechs transformed and rocketed into the air, customized thrusters roaring. The engineer was slower than the other two, seeming to struggle to gain lift-off and the other two left him behind quickly. He stabilized just above the roof-line of the nearest towers, banking into a wide circle while the others looped back towards him. A double scream echoed off of Trypticon's buildings as the two warriors honed in on their prey.
The engineer dropped like a rock out of their path and transformed.
Megatron suspected he was grinning. The engineer was fast, his previous instability a ruse as he curved back up, half alt-mode and half-bipedal. He shot between the two hunters, raking long claws along their flanks and he transformed again between them, thrusters roaring to blast at their scraped armor. He arrowed up in alt-mode, spiraling into the climb, the enraged hunters on his tail. He peaked high above the city and transformed again, falling in his bipedal mode, powerful cannons on each arm ripping more armor from the other two as they tried to turn back towards him without stalling.
When he transformed again, it was within bare ticks of the heads of some of the audience, the backwash of his thrusters clearly blistering armor as he zipped over their heads. He looped back up, aiming directly for the red hunter, who closed in on him in obvious eagerness. The distance between them shortened frighteningly fast, the unburnt portion of the audience leaned forward - and the engineer veered, tackling the blue hunter instead, landing on the warrior's back, all claws and kicks and those powerful guns.
Blue went down, hard. He did not move.
Red screamed in outrage, chasing after the engineer, who was speeding back into the sky. They spiraled around each other, engaging in brief claw battles, raining metal shreds on the observers below. For a moment or two, Red had the upper hand, until the scientist managed to get behind him and transform enough to grab the warrior, and the groan of overstressed metal permeated even the thick crystal window Megatron was looking through, punctuated by a cry of agony. The hunter, his wing not quite ripped off but certainly pulled far out of joint, was barely able to control his fall back to the ground below. Just as he moved to land, still in his alt-form, the engineer slammed into him with all limbs, smashing him into the ground.
Megatron sat back, impressed. Elegant, fierce, brutal, and according to the records he'd pulled up, a veritable genius. Beside him, Optimus looked as troubled by the violent display as Megatron wasn't, his face set into uncharacteristically stiff lines. Below, the announcer was proclaiming what everyone else already knew. "The winner: Starscream!"
Megatron smiled. He'd just found his new Air Commander.