Kitty-Chan, Fool's Alliance
Nov. 10th, 2010 07:52 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Bayverse
Bonecrusher, Sunspot, ref Barricade
crack
I can't find that I've posted Kitty-Chan here, so...here it is along with the 'sequel'. :D Both written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Kitty-Chan
The shiftcycle had been terrible. Not that Bonecrusher had expected any less, of course. More or less a constant vortex of suck for as far back as he could remember. Which was a pretty slaggin’ long way. Only surprise to him was that the universe hadn’t imploded under the weight of its own suck.
He rolled back to his recharge almost listlessly. Nothing exciting there except being away from all of these morons. To the quiet of his cube, fantastic. Boredom over irritation. When that starts looking like an improvement, Bonecrusher, your life cannot get any lower.
He blurped the code at his recharge as he approached, letting momentum roll him in. Something seemed…wrong with his cube. Different. Bonecrusher hated different. And he hated, instantly, the large box, frothing with ribbons and bows and a paper wrapping so bright and busy his optics flicked through three filters before he could stand to look at it. What. The. Fraggin’. Frag.
Bonecrusher approached cautiously. Some sort of fraggin’ joke. Some sicko invading the privacy of his cube! He felt outrage begin simmering in his systems. How dare they? And what sort of monstrosity could be in that thing?
He prodded gingerly at the ribbons, waiting for the box to, he didn’t know, explode or something. Nothing.
He picked up the box, shaking it gently, his olfactory sensors tuning for any sort of combustible. Nothing.
Huh.
His battered claws ripped through the paper—which at least ended that particular optic-trauma—until he had uncovered, nestled in a wreck of gaudy ribbons, a large, bright box. Moe-moe super-cute kawaii Kitty-Chan-chan! the label read, and through the clear plastic window, he could see the enormous staring eyes of the pink fabric cat-doll. A tiny, undersized u formed a smile between the large white eyes. ‘Will you be my friend?’ another part of the packaging read.
Be. My. Friend. Are you fraggin’ serious?
[***]
A loud roar—possibly the loudest Bonecrusher had ever uttered, loud enough to blank the systems of a repairbot trotting its way along a ceiling track, causing it to lose its grip and fall, splatting on the ground before rolling into its storage ball and quaking with fear.
A laugh echoed up from the corridor. Bonecrusher railed.
“I HATE SURPRISES!! I’M GONNA FIND YOU AND SHOVE YOUR FACE IN A BLACK HOLE!” The threat echoed down the corridor, accompanied by flying shards of cardboard box, shreds of ribbon, scraplets of paper.
But the little pink doll was stuffed—carefully—in Bonecrusher’s personal storage compartment.
Fool's Alliance
“What the FRAG are you doing?!” Bonecrusher’s voice was loud enough that it buzzed out the audio of every mech within earshot. Most froze in their tracks, not even daring to turn their heads to see the actual target of Bonecrusher’s not-inconsiderable wrath.
That target, however, merely looked up and over a loosely floating wingflap, from where he was digging behind the rec room’s couch. “I’m looking for something!” Sunspot said, brightly.
“Lookin’ for a few broken struts, if you ask me,” Bonecrusher said. He skated closer, fists balling with obvious threat.
Well, obvious to everyone except Sunspot. “No…that’s not what I’m looking for.” Sunspot tilted his head, his sole dark optic whirring in and out. “Unless you think that’s better than what I am looking for?”
Bonecrusher’s toes clamped over his wheels, slamming him to a halt. His beetly face ran through a host of expressions, from confusion to contempt to outrage. It stayed on outrage. Possibly confused outrage. “What the frag you lookin’ for?”
Sunspot pushed upright, wiggling his aft excitedly. “I,” he said, importantly, “am looking for a box of sparks.”
Bonecrusher blinked. “Sparks.”
“For spark plugs!” The white and yellow wings bounced excitedly. “It is a VERY important mission that Barricade said he only trusted to me.” Sunspot thrust his chassis out, swelled with so much pride that he nearly fell over.
Yeah. That name told Bonecrusher all he really needed to know. “Barricade.” Or, as Bonecrusher preferred to call him, ‘Jerkface’. “Listen up, stupid—“ he began.
“Sunspot!” The optic blinked, pleased with himself. “I think there must be another mech who looks a lot like me who’s named ‘Stupid’ that everyone keeps mistaking me for.” He nodded, soberly.
Rrrrrrright. “Whatever. Sunspot. Yeah. Fine.” Bonecrusher rolled his optics. “Look. There aren’t any sparks in the fraggin’ sofa.”
The wings drooped. “Are you sure? I’m running out of places to look!”
“Yeah. I’m sure. No sparks in the sofa.” So…he added mentally, get the frag away from it.
“Wellllll, do you know where I could find them?” Sunspot dug with one toe between the cushions. “I mean, maybe one or two kind of slipped out?”
“NO! NONE SLIPPED OUT! AND NOT ON THE FRAGGIN’ SOFA!” Bonecrusher’s voice cracked into a squeak halfway through. He lunged at the slaggin’ idiot droneling, hauling him off the sofa.
Sunspot’s toes clutched reflexively at the cushion, dragging it off with him, so that it flopped on him as Bonecrusher dropped him, in a tangle of cushion and limbs.
Bonecrusher howled, throwing himself on the sofa’s frame, his tires spinning in consternation.
Sunspot fought valiantly against the cushion, finally conquering it, struggling to his feet. He held out the cushion. “It’s more comfortable with this…maybe?” He sounded unsure.
“Go. Away.” Bonecrusher sprawled himself over the naked couch frame.
Sunspot offered the cushion again. “If I don’t put this back, it’ll get lost. Like the spark plug sparks I’m looking for. I bet if someone put them away, they wouldn’t be so hard to find.” He nodded at his own wisdom.
“Shut. Up.” Bonecrusher swipe one long arm at Sunspot, snatching the cushion. He shifted his torso, trying to shove the wadded cushion under him.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!” Sunspot squealed. “Cute kitty!”
Bonecrusher roared, trying to drown out Sunspot’s words. He swiped again, but Sunspot moved too fast, and came up holding the floppy pink humiliation Bonecrusher knew as Kitty-Chan.
Bonecrusher bellowed, glaring around the rec room. Mechs suddenly decided, en masse, that it was time to go Somewhere Else in Extreme Haste. One muttered that Sunspot was going to be flatter than a washer in about 20 kliks.
“It’s cute!” Sunspot said, clutching the pink toy. “And look how happy!” He turned Kitty-Chan so that the smiling face and enormous eyes faced Bonecrusher.
“Give. Me. That. NOW!”
Sunspot handed it over, bobbing his head, eagerly. “I always thought the magic word was ‘please’ but Barricade told me that the real ‘magic word’ is ‘now’!” He wiggled happily. “I’m getting so smart!”
Bonecrusher would have glared the slaggin’ paint off the droneling if he hadn’t been so busy checking Kitty-Chan for damage. Fraggin’ droneling probably got his Stupid Cooties all over it. Bonecrusher fluffed the bow.
And then, there was ‘Barricade’ again. A menace to law and order. Certainly a menace to Bonecrusher’s peace of mind. He had to be stopped, the uppity little interceptor.
“Hey, Stu—Sunspot,” he said, optics glinting slyly. “I’ll help you find those sparks you need. You know. Like…thanks.” He tucked Kitty-Chan back in his cab compartment. Last time he took Kitty-Chan out of his recharge cube. Three-D movie or not.
“You will?” The wings popped up, clapping against each other.
“Yeah. I’ll help. Betcha Barricade didn’t tell you the special equipment you needed to get the sparks.”
The wings drooped. “No, he didn’t. I…I guess he thinks I should have known already?”
Yeah. Not so much. Bonecrusher nodded. “Whatever. Here’s what you need to go ask him for, though.” Bonecrusher leaned in, dropping his voice. “Tell him you need the keys to the flux capacitor.”
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 02:00 am (UTC)Glad you liked! Now we have to worry what Bonecrusher's going to cook up for revenge....
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 01:29 am (UTC)Poor, adorable Sunspot. The flux capacitor line was great.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 02:02 am (UTC)Glad you liked!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 01:37 am (UTC)And poor Sunspot. He's too dense to realize he's lead would float compared to him. :hugs:
Lesee, what else could they send him after ...
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 02:03 am (UTC)Sunspot has the Power of Positivity! XD
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 02:23 am (UTC):snerk: Yeah, I need a life. Or a job. LOL
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 04:28 am (UTC)These both were freaking adorable! Still giggling!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 12:46 pm (UTC)Glad you liked! (Yay rvb!)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 04:52 am (UTC)Omg Now I can't get the image of Crusher's reaction to kittycade X3
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 12:48 pm (UTC)Glad you liked!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 03:01 pm (UTC):holds up kittycade: And so does kitty cade. X3
Kittycade:Merow?
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 07:51 am (UTC)Moar Bonecrusher fics are ALWAYS appreciated. ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-11 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 02:23 am (UTC)I just want to squoosh 'em both!
*wants a box of sparks, too*
no subject
Date: 2010-11-27 05:55 am (UTC)heh. Flux capacitor. Box of Sparks. oooh boy