Graphic Revenge
Oct. 5th, 2010 07:21 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
niyazi-a.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
shadow_vectorBayverse
Constructicons
crack. Seriously. Nothin' but.
“Shhhhhhhhh,” Scrapper hissed. “Seriously, Scabs, you’re going to frag it all up.” Sure, it was an impromptu thing but, seriously. It should not take this long to pull together.
Scavenger pouted in his head’s protective cage. “Come on. I’m just tryin’ to do my best.”
“You can do your best,” Long Haul muttered, “without the giggling. Pretty sure of that.”
“I’m giggling because it’s fun!” Scavenger said, defensively, clutching the rubber hose he’d been digging out from under his berth to his chassis.
“Yeah? Some kinds of fun are best enjoyed in silence,” Scrapper said. He folded his arms over his chassis, irritated. This was taking too long. A constant thing with the team. Reaction time almost as low as the collective IQ.
“And some kinds are best enjoyed without waking Rampage up,” Hightower rumbled, pointedly. Yeah. Even Scavenger got that, cutting off his giggling with a sharp squelch.
“We better be careful about Mix, too,” Scrapper said. They could hear the steady snoring from Mixmaster’s berth on the far end of the gestalt’s bay. So, thus far, Scrapper thought, safe.
“Nah,” Long Haul shrugged. “Long as he has plausible deniability, he’ll be cool. He’s been wanting Rampage taken down a peg or two.”
“Yeah? Well this’ll do that, all right.”
“Maybe we could aim for two pegs!” Scavenger burbled. “Mixmaster always says it’s a good idea to exceed expectations.”
“Yeah, you should try, you know, meeting them every now and again.” Long Haul said.
“Mixmaster has to be in on it, at least a bit,” Hightower mused. “I mean, after all, he did hand over that energon, umm, additive, right?”
Scrapper nodded. Reasonable assumption. Mixmaster’s special ‘Atomic Noogie’ additive was normally strictly for parties. More specifically for spiking the Combaticons’ energon, in the operation Mixmaster always dubbed “Unleash Mayhem.” Nothing made the Constructicons feel like a cohesive team quite as much as watching the thermonuclear trainwreck of the Combaticons when severely overcharged. It was…a thing of beauty.
A thing of beauty that normally ended with Vortex in the brig, Brawl crying and in medbay, and Blast Off flouncing to lock himself in his recharge. And, of course, Onslaught struggling not to explode. Beautiful. Seriously.
“That’s because Mixmaster is awesome!” Scavenger burbled. He finished screwing the intake from the tubing into the base of a cylindrical device.
“You think everyone’s awesome,” Long Haul grunted, impatiently.
“Nuh-hunh,” Scavenger said. “I don’t like Swindle when he steals my stuff and makes me buy it again. That’s not awesome at all.”
Scrapper sighed, aggrieved. “Yeah, Scabs? We’ll…work on that later. Right now: Rampage.” He glared at Long Haul. “And you? Stop distracting him.”
Long Haul gave one of his infamous ‘make me care’ shrugs.
“What’d he do again?” Hightower asked. “You know. Just so I can get myself properly steamed.”
“Oooooooh!” Scavenger bounced up, clutching two small cans. “Like a trial!” He balanced one of the cans on his head-cage. Why? Scrapper had no idea. It was Scavenger after all. The day Scavenger made sense was the same day Rampage learned courtesy, and, basically, the end of the world. The Seal on the Well of Sparks would crack, etc etc. “Right!” Scavenger said, dropping his voice an octave. “What are the charges against the accused?”
“Don’t slaggin’ have time for this,” Scrapper muttered. “Not all the tainted energon in the world.”
“’Tainted’ is such an ugly word,” Hightower mused.
“Ugly word for an ugly mech like Rampage,” Long Haul said.
“Charges!” Scavenger prompted.
“Scabs, we don’t have time for this!”
“Charges or you don’t get to use MY airbrush.” Scavenger set his mouth in the way that said, flatly, plainly, that he wouldn’t budge.
Scrapper sighed. “Fine! FINE.”
“He’s a jerk,” Hightower rumbled. “QED.”
“True….” Scavenger nodded.
“There was that one time he spilled your ration on purpose and made you lick it off the table,” Long Haul began.
“He said it was like ‘letting it breathe’,” Scavenger said, optics blinking with confusion. Scrapper waited. Slowly, but eventually, the dull light of illumination dawned across Scavenger’s face. “Wait! He lied to me!”
“Exactly.”
“Lying’s wrong!”
“Yeah, well,” Long Haul muttered, shifting his weight. He wasn’t exactly known as a pillar of truthfulness himself.
“And then there was that time he almost messed things up with Barricade and we had to tie him to the ceiling.”
“That was fun!”
Scrapper resisted, just barely, slapping a palm over his face. Why did the most useful mech on the team also happen to be a blazing moron? He wondered if it was like this for the Combaticons. “Okay, Scabs. How ‘bout this: you know how he keeps slapping you in the back of the head with his tread whips and saying it was an accident?” He raised his supraorbital plate, significantly.
“Yeah?” Blink. Blink.
Hightower jumped in for the save: “Ever notice he’s never had that ‘accident’ around, say, Mixmaster?”
“That IS weird…hey!!” Scavenger’s face crumpled into an angry frown. “That’s not nice. At all.”
“Exactly. Hence, this.” Scrapper poked at Scavenger’s device. “You sure this thing even works?”
Scavenger looked affronted. “Of course it does! Best airbrush design, ever! Mixmaster even said so.”
“I’m sure it is,” Hightower said. “Now, let’s get a move on. I’ve already figured out what I’m going to do.”
“Oh?” Scrapper glared. He was in charge. He should totally get approval rights.
Hightower grinned. “Going to write ‘pogo’ down each leg. In flowery script.”
Hrm. Subtle. Too subtle for Rampage, actually, Scrapper thought, though the script would be a nice touch. Hightower noticed his hesitation, and frowned.
“Why, you got a better idea?”
“My idea is mine, so of course it’s better,” Scrapper groused. “Going to write ‘Overload goes here’ on his aft.”
Hightower snickered, impressed. “Just don’t write that on my aft.”
“I miss Overload,” Scavenger whined. “I wish he’d come back.”
“Yeah,” Long Haul said. “Another thing we can blame on Prince Raegy McAngerson.”
Scrapper growled. “Getting off focus, here.” Again. And Scabs was looking droopy. And a droopy Scavenger led to a wailing Scavenger and if ANYTHING could penetrate Mixmaster’s special concoction, it was probably a wailing Scavenger. Scrapper didn’t really want to stick around to find that one out. “Scabs? What you gonna do?” Here, back on topic. Think happy thoughts, Scavenger.
“Me?” Scavenger considered, rolling the airbrush nozzle between his hands. His optics flared. “I’m gonna draw a big mustache…right on his face!”
“Yeah, as opposed to his aft,” Long Haul muttered, shaking his head. “Mustache, on the face. Truly, Scavenger, you are a rebel.”
Scrapper glowered the larger mech down. “Enough sniping. Got a job to do. And we’re a team.”
“Technically,” Hightower murmured, “Rampage is also part of the team.”
“Stop being difficult, HT.” Scrapper sighed. “Look, we’re part of the team trying to help another part of the team, okay?”
“’Help’,” Long Haul snorted. “And you forgot the bit about ‘and without letting the leader of the team know about it.’”
“No one likes a critic, Long Haul,” Scrapper said. “You want out?”
“Frag no! Just offering a little concrit.”
“Concrit your aft,” Scrapper muttered.
Scavenger’s optics were tilted with worry, looking back and forth between the two. Inspiration hit: “Orrrr, I could draw a mustache on it?” Scavenger blurted, helpfully, holding up the nozzle.
Scrapper rolled his optics. “Right. Point taken. Let’s get a move on before something really bad happens.” Like the team tears itself apart simultaneously while waking Mixmaster and Rampage.
“Oh something really bad’s gonna happen,” Long Haul said, with a certain palm-rubbing glee. “And I can’t wait.”
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Date: 2010-10-05 12:12 pm (UTC)Especially this bit: Nothing made the Constructicons feel like a cohesive team quite as much as watching the thermonuclear trainwreck of the Combaticons when severely overcharged. It was…a thing of beauty. Didn't actually think I was capable of smiling today, let alone laughing. Turns out I am.
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Date: 2010-10-05 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-05 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-05 05:17 pm (UTC)What, no Grindor?
Date: 2010-10-06 01:54 am (UTC)Still, reading your Constructicons is like trying to get through a laughter souffle: at some point, everything changes shape dramatically. You poke the fic with a fork, get to the bottom, and wonder, 'how did we get here?!' The meandering nature of your Constructicons makes me giggle every time.
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Date: 2010-10-15 05:46 am (UTC)