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niyazi-a.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
shadow_vector2010-10-02 08:43 pm
The New Guy
Bayverse
Mindwipe, Skystalker, Sunspot
fluff with a soupcon of angst
Yyyyyyyeah. I just snagged the Sunspot toy today. He's a repaint of Skystalker. He's stupidly cute. Hence, fic.
AND a picture!
Here, Sky threatens the clueless droneling. Awwwww! Skystalker did a double take—well, a quadruple take, really—at the white and yellow minijet entering the refectory. At first he’d thought it was a lost drone—it certainly seemed lost enough—but the way its wings wavered in the air just wasn’t…drone enough.
It was always a shock to see himself this way, Skystalker realized. Like a re-infliction of the shock of having woken up, shoved into two Class Alpha drone frames. Even more of a shock to see someone else in his frame. This one, though, gaudy white and yellow. Kinda…messing up the whole ‘stealth’ idea, there, he thought.
Still, the minijet looked kinda lost. And Skystalker knew from personal experience how unpleasant the bigger mechs could be. He tried not to think that a few decas ago, he might have been one of those bigger mechs, treating the minijets as obstacles, or stupid, or both.
He pushed himself off his seat.
“Everything okay?” Mindwipe asked, his visor drifting, trying to backtrace Sky’s or Stalker’s gaze.
“Yeah,” Sky said. The large bomber couldn’t understand. Not for lack of trying, but…yeah. Mindwipe had a hard enough time functioning himself. He did not need Skystalker’s baggage. He pointed.
“He …is new?” Mindwipe asked, a quiet acknowledgment that the minijet hadn’t come up on his known roster either.
“Yeah,” Sky repeated. “Going to find out who he is, okay?” He knew Mindwipe would forget. He hesitated, and then said. “Going to split.”
A brief hesitation as Mindwipe reminded himself of their little codes. “Oh. Yes! That’s fine. It’s good practice. Rehabilitation.”
Skystalker was almost impressed. Something seemed to be making it to Long Term Memory caching. Like he was beginning, finally, to matter. He knew it wasn’t true, of course, but even so, it counted. It felt…important.
Sky resettled himself at the table while Stalker picked his way through the crowd toward the minijet, who was looking around him, dazzled, his sole black optic whirring around the room, wings drifting around in their mounts like blunt antennae. Where he sat, Sky occasionally went unnaturally still, as Stalker required more concentration to navigate the narrow aisles of the refectory, stepping around feet and wings and armor spans and rotors and other protuberances of larger mechs.
“Hey,” Stalker said. The silver head whirled to fixate on him.
“Hey?” The word came awkwardly, as if the minijet weren’t used to talking. Frag. Barely out of dronelinghood. A realization seeped slowly to the miniet’s awareness. “We’re the same frame!” it said, excitedly.
If Stalker hadn’t been used to Mindwipe, this would have irritated him. Instead, it seemed…strangely familiar. Stalker tapped his chassis. “Stalker.” He tapped the white armor meaningfully. “Designation?”
“Sunspot!” the minijet said, brightly. The wings stopped their random drifting, perking up. “Class Alpha Drone…or…I was.” The wings drooped a bit, uncertain.
Frag, this must be what everyone thought of Skystalker when they saw him—a dim droneling. Stalker fought frustration. “Not anymore,” he said. “Let me show you how the refectory works.” He gestured for Sunspot to follow him, and pushed his way into the line of larger mechs, glaring up angrily until two grounders made room. He grabbed Sunspot’s wrist as the minijet drifted by. “Here,” he said. “You wait in line.” He heard a few chortles from the larger mechs. Yeah. Like they’d all forgotten what it was like to be a droneling themselves, new to their frame.
Skystalker had forgotten it, too, and resented the living PIT out of the reminder, but he wasn’t going to take it out on anyone else. Not Mindwipe, certainly. And not Sunspot.
Sunspot ambled after him as the line moved, holding up his wrist ident bolt the same way he’d seen Stalker do his, his mouthplates grinding happily. Dronelings still had their drone’s delight in simple imitation and praise. Stalker nodded, gruffly, pausing to glare at the groundframe behind Sunspot, who mimed the eager way the minijet had thrust out his arm, rolling his pair of optics as though that somehow made him better. Stalker seethed, and all the more for the fact that Sunspot was entirely oblivious.
“Oh!” Sunspot took his ration. “Energon!” He seemed delighted. Stalker’s spark twanged guiltily in his chassis, cringing at the simple joy, at the same time he wanted to drag Sunspot some place where that innocent gloss wouldn’t be stripped so ruthlessly from him.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s right. Now come with me.” He hoped his tone didn’t leak anything.
Sunspot hesitated for a moment in the archway where the refectory line opened into the seating room, amazed, and then trotted to catch up with Stalker, just as they approached the table where Sky sat with Mindwipe.
“He’s…new?” Mindwipe asked.
“Yes,” Sky said, patiently, leaning against the table, casually. “New minijet. Named Sunspot.”
“Sunspot!” the white and chromium yellow jet said, beaming, pointing at his chassis. “And you’re big!”
“I…am.” Mindwipe confirmed.
Sky and Stalker shared a pained look.
“Look!” Sunspot held up his cube. “Energon! I learned how to get energon!”
“That’s a very good thing to know.”
Skystalker couldn’t tell if Mindwipe was being patronizing or not. And he couldn’t puzzle out if that would be above his memory abilities.
Mindwipe inched over, indicating a spot on the table next to him. “Why don’t you have your energon? Skystalker can show you how to work the autoinjector.” Sunspot nodded, dropping eagerly onto the seat, waiting, entirely unfazed, while Sky and Stalker exchanged looks. The droneling didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.
Sky reached over. “Your intake,” he began, confidently, from sharing the same frame type, “is here.” Sunspot craned his head, looking down, mouth set, determined to learn this new lesson, too.
Mindwipe met Stalker’s optic with his visor. “This is very kind of you,” he said, quietly.
Stalker shrugged, the gesture carrying over to Sky. “Safety in numbers,” he said, unconvincingly.
Mindwipe looked over the table, three minijets clustering around him. “Yes,” he agreed.
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This is adorable, but kind of sad at the same time. I get were Skytalker's thoughts are coming from. :,'(
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I'm glad you liked!
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My favorite line: Like he was beginning, finally, to matter. He knew it wasn’t true, of course, but even so, it counted. Oooooh. Oh, the resignation, the dull frustration, the acceptance, all in two sentences.
You're amazing at this.
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Thank you for the compliment! It means a lot to have someone enjoy my silly stories.
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<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
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^__^
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EEEEEE He's so teensy!! <3<3 (**Just got Mindwipe on clearance yay so has reference for scale**) I couldn't find him here and I wanted him so bad after I saw yours >.< *grabbyhaaands* He's so little~ He totally counts as a minibot to meeee~
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And I have no idea why I find him so adorable--but when you find one--check out the little feet!
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He is adorable, you're not the only one who thinks so - but honestly before you wrote him, I probably wouldn't've given him a second glance if I'd seen him except to be like "whoa yellow" XD *noms a minijet*
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He's Oh So Proud that he learned to get his own Energon X3 Maybe it's just the way my mind works but I forsee this fellow being absolutely enthralled with like... Playhouse Disney and kiddie cartoons about learning to do simple basic stuff that all the grownups do and interpreting feelings and whatnot. (But that's me and I'm obsessed with the idea that mechs like TV cartoons and soap operas more than the limited library of their own cybertronian movies and whatnot.)
I want ooooooone (or... five... >.>;) he's so cuuuuute <3<3
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For a small figure, he's remarkably poseable!
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Glad you liked!