InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Eyes like these: I'm Voldie!"

Rascal 'Sal' Phoenix (rascal_phoenix) wrote in chaosunraveled,
@ 2008-06-23 14:30:00

Current mood:	amused
Entry tags:	finished thread, jazz, midvalley, rating: pg-13, sal, setting: niflheim

Keep Your Friends Close...
Who: Jazz, Rascal, and Midvalley
Where: The Garage (AKA: Jazz's Room)
When: The day after Inquisitive Day
Rating: PG-13 (maybe R, depending on how it goes)
Warnings: Language, innuendos, violent natures
Summary: Jazz and Sal have been wanting to meet for a while, but Sal has ideas of his own. He tries to remove Jazz's weapons while the transformer is asleep. But things don't always go as planned these days...

It had been a fair week or two since the incident with Mitch, Henry, and Will on the grounds of Niflheim. Ever since that day, when things hadn't even gone according to plan, Sal had kept it quiet. Emerald had disappeared, Una was off on her own, and Light was in serious condition no thanks to an insane Carrion. In other words, Sal had nothing to do, no one to pick on.

Hm. He looked at his left hand, the bones in his fingers having healed crookedly. Falling off the roof, Sal discovered, was not a good idea. It was still painful to hold a gun - hold anything, really, but he did and without hesistation. And this was probably why some of them healed in funny directions.

ANYWAY. That wasn't the point. The point was that he'd been chatting it up with Jazz. And while this mechanized man confused the hell out of him, he couldn't resist the opportunity to entertain himself. Everybody had to sleep - even robots, Sal figured. So why not pay Jazz a visit, then? Those guns he must have had....they'd be big ones. Big ones with heavy firepower. To obtain them would be victory in the making. Who cared if they were actually getting along? If Sal wanted it, he'd try to get it.

Hoping against hope that Jazz would be in lullaby land, Sal made his way to the garage with a toolbox gripped in his broken fingers.

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silverknight
2008-06-23 11:53 pm UTC (link)

Jazz is recharging. 64% avareness under standart, that is how they'd always done it.

Just a light nap, nothing more.

In the dreams haunting his processor in the few times that he allows himself the time to shut down, he can see it all over again. The way eyes lost their fire, how the once smoth-talking excentric hiding in a laboratory became arrogant and aloof. This is not what he wants to remember, but still... it is the way of his people.

Somewhere deep within his firewalls, there is a part of him that hopes he will not wake up again with weapons blazing and another comrade lacking some extremities.

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rascal_phoenix
2008-06-24 12:11 am UTC (link)

Pushing open the door to the garage, Sal gazed around very warily in search of any movement, whether it be from Jazz or even Gin. But there was nothing whatsoever to indicate that anyone was active within the vicinity. So he crept in quietly, closing the door gently, as to not alarm anyone who might have been hiding off beyond Sal's senses.

When he reached the middle of the garage, he frowned, stumped to find there was no one in the room at all. He was bummed, really, and decided it wasn't worth it to hang around and wait for Jazz. Just as he decided to return to the door, he caught a slumbering sigh in the air. The human spun around.

"Holy..." Sal bit back the rest of the thought as he realized he was standing right next to Jazz, who was easily three times his size. His shock quickly melted into mischieviousness. "Well, hello there, big guy..."

Going to work as fast as he could, Sal found some piping and scaffolding-type structures across the wall nearest to Jazz. He angled himself up them as best as he could, finally after some long attempts to get the toolbox out of several jams. With a heave-ho, Sal hopped over onto Jazz's shoulder, grinning like the little devil he was.

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silverknight
2008-06-24 11:25 am UTC (link)

The dream has changed. Lost are the few moments of happiness with a complete triade. Now there is nothing but a battle fought within the borders of human structures.

Concrete breaks under their not so merciful touch, glass splinters and creates a myraide of mirror images all showing what few can imagine - hell on Earth and there is nothing anybody can do. Humans scream as they fall; maybe some of them are even destroyed under his own foot. He does not wish to think about it.

Megatron...

He takes the garantuan flyer on, alone and without back-up. It is a suicide mission.

"You want a piece of me!" he screams. "You want a piece of me!"

And here is it where the dream changes. Megatron shrinks until he is nothing but a dwarf in their people's eyes. The small figure crouches on his shoulder, intend on some damage or other.

Without even thinking about it Jazz turns around so that the small being that was Megatron is now under him, fusion cannon aimed directly at its head.

"YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!" he screams again. Somewhere in the back of his mind there is a hint of knowledge that at this precise moment his eyes gleam as crimson as death.

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rascal_phoenix
2008-06-24 08:03 pm UTC (link)

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit....

Just as Sal had been prepared to make his way down Jazz's arm, intent on reaching the base of one of his canons and detaching it. It seemed like a pretty straightforward, albeit dangerous, plan, but he was willing to trust in his limbs to get him there in once piece.

But Jazz started going berserk. Sal found himself nailing his arms around the giant 'man's' arms as he began yelling: "You want a piece of me!"

Sal, who really didn't want a piece of Jazz at the moment, just stayed quiet and hoped against hope that whatever nightmare Jazz was having would quickly die. But that would not be the case, as the metal man's eyes open wide and bloody red.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me Sal thought as he held tight to the backside of Jazz's arm, hoping that he wouldn't notice him there.

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silverknight
2008-06-24 09:27 pm UTC (link)

Still within the grasp of scrambled memory files, Jazz reacts to his surroundings in a way that his comrades would describe as 'off'. At the moment there is no smoothe-talking charmer, there is only the heir. Lord High Protector Megatron's heir.

His eyes find the insect. Organic, definitely one of higher evolved species. Squishy...

"Since when do you have the habit of keeping pets, dearest creator?" he asks the mighty flyer, though it may look like as if he's speaking to the... what ever it is.

After all, in his dream-scrabled processor both Megatron and the insect on his arm are one and the same.

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rascal_phoenix
2008-06-24 10:01 pm UTC (link)

Pets?

Even asleep, Jazz seemed to have a way with saying the wrong thing to Sal, and the asexual human rolled his eyes as the great inorganic being responded to his presence as though he were a fly on his nose. Irritated, frustrated that he wouldn't be able to get this done due to Jazz's light sleeping, Sal made to shimmy back up his arm.

He'd just have to try again later.

It was disappointing, really, because Sal had wanted so badly to disarm Jazz, but as always, plans were ruined. His broken fingers ached as they grasped the metal plates of his arm and he bit back a moan.

"Fine, be that way." He sneered. "Be that way, ruin my afternoon."

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silverknight
2008-06-24 10:11 pm UTC (link)

Ruin my afternoon, the older mech says. Jazz has to smile at that. It isn't a nice smile.

"What is one ruined afternoon for you, Megs? I had three hundred vorns ruined because of you! Can you imagine how... annoying it is to listen to your onw kid whining because the creator of the child's creator had the gall to rip out the kid's vocoder?"

He moves his arm in such a way that he is able to touch the other individual. Somewhere here is sure that his third would love to try a vivisection on the squishy animal, both of them really.

"You never liked me hooking up with lab rats, didn't you?"

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rascal_phoenix
2008-06-24 10:34 pm UTC (link)

The 'holy shits' in the back of Sal's mind were more frequent and more panicked as Jazz responded to what appeared to be his 'ruined afternoon' comment and lifted his arm to where he perched.

Lab rats? Hell, no, Sal was not going to be the invisible third party to whatever conversation Jazz was having in his sleep. The little human dodged past Jazz's probing hand, swinging up to his shoulder. The toolbox was forgotten as he made his way over to sit next to Jazz's ear.

He had to get the hand away from him! So he leaned in next to Jazz's ear and began to talk to him in his sleep:

"Don't touch the lab rat, it has cooties." Sal tried not laugh. "Evil virus cooties. If you poke it, you'll get the cooties and die."