TF_Speedwriting: A crowded waiting room
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, Jazz or anything recognizable.
Continuity: Pre-G1
Characters: Jazz, Blaster, Reflector
Rating: PG
Prompt: Setting: A crowded waiting room (31st-March-2012: Prompt 1)
Warnings: none
Summary: A crowded waiting room as the Golden Age is waning.
Tha ks for the beta work by the wonderful Starfire201.
A crowded waiting room: Change
The room was big, even for Iacon's proportions, and the lavish decorations gave it a certain meaningfulness it didn't really have. The important room was much smaller, deeper inside and only a few chosen mechs were ever allowed to enter. Still, here in this hall they all waited in an eerie silence. Over two hundred mechs from all over Cybertron had come.
Jazz and Blaster were among them. They stood on the side, near one of the three big doors and looked, just as everyone else, towards the staircase. Joors went by, and someone had finally and thankfully remembered the waiting crowd and sent servants with small energon cubes around.
The waiting continued.
"At least, it's not a spontaneous decision," Blaster muttered quietly, thoughtful not to disturb the silence.
His smaller colleague nodded. "Seems like we were wrong, and they're not all against it."
"So, you think they'll agree?"
"No." Jazz turned to his friend, for once in his life serious. "They can't agree without losing. And they don't want to lose."
A few mechs turned around to them. On second glance, they could see it was one mech, one of those rare triplet sparks. Connected, yet apart. "I hope they'll agree. This has gone on too long."
"This?" Blaster frowned. "The waiting or..."
"Everything." The three faces looked grim. "Don't tell me you haven't realized it yet? Mechs with our profession can't claim that they're as blind as all the others."
The crowd became, if possible, a bit more quieter. No one moved; they were all listening to the hushed words in the corner.
The two friends shared a look. Of course they knew. They wouldn't be here otherwise.
Jazz shrugged, with a sudden feeling of helplessness. "If they agree, which I don't believe they will, it doesn't mean that everything would change for the better."
"And yet, there would be a chance in that change. A chance we now don't have," replied the other one.
"They won't agree. Is there a point to discuss the improbable?"
The triplets looked taken aback for a moment. There was no point in discussing anything about this. The decision was made in the closed-off room without them. All that was left for them was the silence and the waiting.
But the triplets didn't seem to agree and looked at Jazz with something disturbingly close to pity.
"So, you just sit down and accept. Did you ever think for yourself?" The three bodies made a step towards him. "Did you ever fight for something?"
There was a challenge in those questions that carried through the hall and seemed to be directed at more than just one mech. Blaster looked uncertainly between his friend and the stranger. But his smaller friend stood his ground.
"Of course, I think for myself. I'm my own mech! But senseless fighting hurts everyone in the end. We have to compromise."
"You admit it. You have never fought." And slowly the triplets smiled. "And that's the reason why you don't understand the real meaning of today. But the change will come, one way or the other, and then you'll fight and understand."
"Understand what exactly? Today is a simple bureaucratic decision. A big one, sure, but nothing more."
But his conversation partner was already turning towards the stairs again. One of the bodies was shaking his head. "For you, maybe. For others... we'll see."
And the silence resumed, the waiting continued. No one dared to speak any more, and most lost themselves in their own minds, which often led them to the small conversation they had heard. Slowly, forced through boredom, they began to review the arguments, the information they all had collected in previous vorns and thought.
Nothing happened in the hall. No one moved or talked. Yet the silence seemed to grow, until it was a thin layer strung to the breaking point.
Eventually, a silver-green mech appeared on those broad steps in front of the crowd. Smiling, triumphant, self-assured.
"Citizens of Cyberton, we, the High-Council, have come to a decision. The proposal of the new governor of Kaon to change the energon tribute law has been rejected. While we feel with Kaon's citizens that suffer through the energon shortage, but we must point out that the tributes are needed elsewhere, too. May Primus be with you." Another mech stepped next to the councillor. "Governor Megatron has now the floor."
The governor from Kaon was a big mech, intimidating and with a keen intellect. He easily held the stares of all the assembled mechs with his deep red optics.
"Citizens, the proposal was rejected, but I will not stop to fighting for you. We'll find other ways if we stand together as one! Kaon and the other states starve, and if no one wants to help us, we'll have to take what we need!" The councillor looked quite shocked, but Megatron ignored him and spoke again:
"But this is only one side of the problem. What we really need is another, better society. One where no mechs die in the streets. One where no one has to slave away, because he was built for nothing more. One where the worth of a mech is measured by his merit and nothing else. I believe in this! And will stand by it, whatever may come. Citizens, will you stand with me?"
Silence. And then it was shattered as if it had never existed. The crowd clapped, a few even cheered out loud. Among them the triplets. Megatron turned around satisfied, his work was done. The councillor hurried after him, servos waving, talking. Too late. The decisions had been made.
"I can't believe it, that was..." Blaster shook his head. "I mean, it was as if he were talking about revolution. He can't mean it, right?"
His friend shrugged helplessly as he looked over the crowd, no longer silent, speaking among each other. The journalists were excited, the news was hot, and there was something more. A gleam in many optics he had never seen before.
In front of them, the triplets turned, having taken their photos and videos, and went to the exit. One of his shoulders brushed Jazz's and a head whispered smirking:
"You can feel it now, right?"
Jazz shuddered.
Change had arrived.
~silber
Continuity: Pre-G1
Characters: Jazz, Blaster, Reflector
Rating: PG
Prompt: Setting: A crowded waiting room (31st-March-2012: Prompt 1)
Warnings: none
Summary: A crowded waiting room as the Golden Age is waning.
Tha ks for the beta work by the wonderful Starfire201.
A crowded waiting room: Change
The room was big, even for Iacon's proportions, and the lavish decorations gave it a certain meaningfulness it didn't really have. The important room was much smaller, deeper inside and only a few chosen mechs were ever allowed to enter. Still, here in this hall they all waited in an eerie silence. Over two hundred mechs from all over Cybertron had come.
Jazz and Blaster were among them. They stood on the side, near one of the three big doors and looked, just as everyone else, towards the staircase. Joors went by, and someone had finally and thankfully remembered the waiting crowd and sent servants with small energon cubes around.
The waiting continued.
"At least, it's not a spontaneous decision," Blaster muttered quietly, thoughtful not to disturb the silence.
His smaller colleague nodded. "Seems like we were wrong, and they're not all against it."
"So, you think they'll agree?"
"No." Jazz turned to his friend, for once in his life serious. "They can't agree without losing. And they don't want to lose."
A few mechs turned around to them. On second glance, they could see it was one mech, one of those rare triplet sparks. Connected, yet apart. "I hope they'll agree. This has gone on too long."
"This?" Blaster frowned. "The waiting or..."
"Everything." The three faces looked grim. "Don't tell me you haven't realized it yet? Mechs with our profession can't claim that they're as blind as all the others."
The crowd became, if possible, a bit more quieter. No one moved; they were all listening to the hushed words in the corner.
The two friends shared a look. Of course they knew. They wouldn't be here otherwise.
Jazz shrugged, with a sudden feeling of helplessness. "If they agree, which I don't believe they will, it doesn't mean that everything would change for the better."
"And yet, there would be a chance in that change. A chance we now don't have," replied the other one.
"They won't agree. Is there a point to discuss the improbable?"
The triplets looked taken aback for a moment. There was no point in discussing anything about this. The decision was made in the closed-off room without them. All that was left for them was the silence and the waiting.
But the triplets didn't seem to agree and looked at Jazz with something disturbingly close to pity.
"So, you just sit down and accept. Did you ever think for yourself?" The three bodies made a step towards him. "Did you ever fight for something?"
There was a challenge in those questions that carried through the hall and seemed to be directed at more than just one mech. Blaster looked uncertainly between his friend and the stranger. But his smaller friend stood his ground.
"Of course, I think for myself. I'm my own mech! But senseless fighting hurts everyone in the end. We have to compromise."
"You admit it. You have never fought." And slowly the triplets smiled. "And that's the reason why you don't understand the real meaning of today. But the change will come, one way or the other, and then you'll fight and understand."
"Understand what exactly? Today is a simple bureaucratic decision. A big one, sure, but nothing more."
But his conversation partner was already turning towards the stairs again. One of the bodies was shaking his head. "For you, maybe. For others... we'll see."
And the silence resumed, the waiting continued. No one dared to speak any more, and most lost themselves in their own minds, which often led them to the small conversation they had heard. Slowly, forced through boredom, they began to review the arguments, the information they all had collected in previous vorns and thought.
Nothing happened in the hall. No one moved or talked. Yet the silence seemed to grow, until it was a thin layer strung to the breaking point.
Eventually, a silver-green mech appeared on those broad steps in front of the crowd. Smiling, triumphant, self-assured.
"Citizens of Cyberton, we, the High-Council, have come to a decision. The proposal of the new governor of Kaon to change the energon tribute law has been rejected. While we feel with Kaon's citizens that suffer through the energon shortage, but we must point out that the tributes are needed elsewhere, too. May Primus be with you." Another mech stepped next to the councillor. "Governor Megatron has now the floor."
The governor from Kaon was a big mech, intimidating and with a keen intellect. He easily held the stares of all the assembled mechs with his deep red optics.
"Citizens, the proposal was rejected, but I will not stop to fighting for you. We'll find other ways if we stand together as one! Kaon and the other states starve, and if no one wants to help us, we'll have to take what we need!" The councillor looked quite shocked, but Megatron ignored him and spoke again:
"But this is only one side of the problem. What we really need is another, better society. One where no mechs die in the streets. One where no one has to slave away, because he was built for nothing more. One where the worth of a mech is measured by his merit and nothing else. I believe in this! And will stand by it, whatever may come. Citizens, will you stand with me?"
Silence. And then it was shattered as if it had never existed. The crowd clapped, a few even cheered out loud. Among them the triplets. Megatron turned around satisfied, his work was done. The councillor hurried after him, servos waving, talking. Too late. The decisions had been made.
"I can't believe it, that was..." Blaster shook his head. "I mean, it was as if he were talking about revolution. He can't mean it, right?"
His friend shrugged helplessly as he looked over the crowd, no longer silent, speaking among each other. The journalists were excited, the news was hot, and there was something more. A gleam in many optics he had never seen before.
In front of them, the triplets turned, having taken their photos and videos, and went to the exit. One of his shoulders brushed Jazz's and a head whispered smirking:
"You can feel it now, right?"
Jazz shuddered.
Change had arrived.
~silber