Fabulous in Flying Form

@general-jetstorm-blog

Part of the New Crystal City Roleplay Group

132 posts

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

"Half organic? Are you—are you suggesting that they combine organic aspects with Cybertronian technology?" Micro’s interest, which was already keen, has now reached a razor-sharp intensity. “How is that even possible? And to what end? Surely the addition of organic components can only degrade the innate superiority of Cybertronian design—"

"You got him started," 726 mutters.

"Whoah, can we just… calm down until we get him settled in? Before you give him the third degree?" Fearstorm asks.

"The third degree is torture, Fearstorm." Micro points out.

"And listening to you prattle on isn’t?" is 726’s rejoinder, which is met with a fierce nudge from Micro. Fearstorm shuckles as he watches them. “Cross-universe Vehicon Bonding sounds good. Wait—you don’t need any kind of special fuel or anything, do you? All we have is energon here."

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"Yes, and it's disgusting," Jetstorm shivers as he thinks. He almost looks scared. "Why would you even want to know how it works, it is an abomination and it is terrifying. Why would anyone defile such perfect technology with... Goo," Jetstorm wiggles his fingers a bit and huffs. "No I do not want to know, not now, not ever."

Jetstorm shakes his head in response to Fearstorm. "I do refuel off energon," he says, "I just need it in small enough containers. You do have something small enough, right?"

He really doesn't want to have to be fed because the energon containers are too big. That's embarrassing.

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

"Maximal?" Micro asks uncertainly. “Are they aliens?" The same certainly sounds exotic. Have the Cybertronians of the future engaged in a war with another race as well as the Autobots?

"Fun?" Fearstorm asks, confused. “Uhh… I don’t know, beat up Autobots?"

"Don’t listen to Fearstorm," 726 says airily. “He lacks refinement." This is met with a snort and a nudge from the larger Vehicon. “It depends, really. Fliers get to go out more often than grounders." He flicks his wings with no small amount of pride. “Otherwise, we talk, we play card games—I understand Boxcar’s got himself quite the gambling ring going, good on him—and some of us watch vids or Earth television."

"TV’s cool," Fearstorm interjects.

“Soap operas," Micro says, his normally-monotone voice tinged with amusement.

"They’re addicting!" 726 and Fearstorm reply at the same time.

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"Mmm, I'd say so. They're half organic, half robotic, and think they have the right to claim Cybertron. Annoying," he sighs and shakes his head.

He listesns intently, optic band widening as he hears. "Oh yes, TV is indeed cool!" He pats Fearstorm again, this time in agreement, "I've found some interesting things where I was before, perhaps you'll also have interesting things. You'll have to share with me what you watch. I'm sure we can do some ah..." Jetstorm circles his hand a little as he talks, trying to figure out what to say, "Cross-universal Vehicon Bonding."

Yes that works, that makes it sound familiar and fun. The better he can make himself sound to these Vehicons, the safer he can be. Jetstorm is acutely aware of his size compared to Fearstorm, so he's working carefully to assure his safety.

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

Fearstorm still isn’t sure where he stands in regards to Jetstorm, but he doesn’t look like any of his Vehicon brethren, and he did introduce himself as a general. When the tiny mech pats his helm he feels a warm surge of goodwill ease through him. “Glad to help!" He replies.

Micro continues to study him curiously. “Oh, you are all that small? Or is it just a distinction of your grouping?"

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"As far as I know, we're all generally this small. Those annoying Maximals are smaller than us Vehicons, but not by much," Jetstorm explains.

He pauses in thought and then hmmms out loud. "So what do you do around here for fun? Do you have that 'internet' thing? I've found enjoyment in that. Ohh or movies, I like those too."

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

Fearstorm seems content to have Jetstorm riding on his shoulder. “Well, no. Nobody in this dimension has a nose. Least, not that I know of.” Hmm. This might be the first sign Fearstorm has come across as to the existence of a third dimension (there are, in fact, many more than three, but Fearstorm has not quite figured out that everyone mech with a nose is not from the same dimension).

Micro and 726 listen as the general speaks. “Obviously you are not,” Micro responds quietly, “you’re nothing like us. But even so, it’s very interesting to know that our name, and maybe something of our frametype, exists either far into the future or in an alternate dimension.”

Fearstorm cocks his head to look at Jetstorm out of the corner of his optic band. “Are all mechs from your home as small as you?”

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Jetstorm could easily fly, but it's obviously more fun to ride on the larger mech's shoulders. Fearstorm is the largest of the three, so he's the obvious choice.

"Yes, good obvservation," Jetstorm drawls out, almost uninterested, and then leans back a bit. "The tanks are larger than I am but nothing is as large as the other types of Cybertronians I've encountered or heard of. I think it's safe to assume that we're probably the smallest. I don't terribly mind, actually. It suits me just fine for my needs."

He idly pats Fearstorm on the head, "After all, good Vehicons like you let me ride on your shoulder."

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

Fearstorm remains silent, staring at Jetstorm. His face in incapable of expression, but he seems to be radiating an air of intense concentration.

“Rock on,” 726 replies, giving his own wings a flick.

Fearstorm and Micro are clearly grounders, as their tires are plainly visible even in root mode. They do not seem to share Jetstorm’s sentiments on flying. “Most likely,” Micro responds. “Unless you are from some time in our future. Either way, welcome to the Nemesis. We’ll need to get you to an officer…”

He is interruped by Fearstorm quite suddenly blurting out, “But you don’t have a nose!” There’s a moment of silence.

“Well, no, he doesn’t,” Micro concedes, “but we should still get to an officer.” He begins to walk, and the other two drones walk with him. Fearstorm cocks his head towards Jetstorm as they move down the hallway.

“So you said you’re our general?” He asks, plainly confused. He’s aware of separate dimensions, but obviously not very educated on them.

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"Not sure if it's the future, the past, or something else. And..." Jetstorm looks over at Fearstorm, "Neither do you."

He flits ahead, flying backwards in front of them for a bit before he decides to settle himself to sit on Fearstorm's shoulder.

"I'm not your general, you look nothing like the drones I commanded," Jetstorm waves a hand as he talks, "They looked somewhat like me. Less colorful though. A bit smaller too."

general-jetstorm-blog

Grand Return

The authoritative tone works well. Instantly, Fearstorm radiates an air of obedience. The drone that has yet to speak is a flier, an Eradicon, and his wingtips perk up the way an attentive dog’s ears might. Only the soft-spoken one remains still, observing Jetstorm with a critical air.

All three of them, however, grow confused when he identifies himself as a Vehicon.

“Are… you sure?” Fearstorm rumbles confusedly.

The soft-spoken one adds, “Well, if you serve Lord Megatron, as you say, you’re in the right place. This is the Nemesis, his flagship.” He puts his head to one side. “I am Micro.”

“Fearstorm,” Fearstorm booms.

“726,” the flier chimes in., “Hey, how’re you hovering like that? Don’t you have any feet?”

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"Yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't sure," Jetstorm looks disgusted, despite not having a visible mouth. He sighs, then tilts his head as he listens, "The Nemesis, hm? A good imposing name. Though I assume you're of a different Megatron than the one I knew? This must be another universe or however that works."

He floats over a bit closer and then leans back in the air, nonchalantly. "I can fly. Flying is my main method of transportation," he waves his little bottom fin about, "I don't need legs."

He gives a quick look over at all three of the mechs body posture, finding it a bit odd that they seem to be confused. Perhaps they haven't experienced the whole different universe thing yet? He floats a bit closer to Fearstorm, watching him carefully.

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Grand Return

Fearstorm had been staring a the tear doubtfully, accompanied by two other normal-sized Vehicons. It’s a small tear, far too small for Fearstorm to fit through, but even so, he’s intensely leery of it. It’s wrong somehow; it hurts directly to look at it. “What d’you think it is?” He rumbles.

One of the Vehicons with him is staring at the tear with unabashed interest. “This is fascinating. We should alert the officers; we definitely need readings on this,” his voice is much softer than Fearstorm’s.

Quite suddenly, the small figure of Jetstorm flies directly through the tear, startling all three Vehicons. They take a step back, staring at his strangely-arrayed figure. What an odd-looking mech!

“I am Fearstorm.” The largest drone is nearly twice the size of his brethren. “Er… who’re you?”

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Jetstorm puts on his best authoritative voice and then holds a hand out as he speaks, "I'm General Jetstorm of the Vehicon army under Lord Megatron." He looks around the hallways of the ship and then at the Vehicons again, unaware that they share the same faction name.

"And where am I?" He says, peeking back as the tear disappears. He figures if he finds this place uninteresting, he'll be on the lookout for another one, but something in his spark says that this place might be more interesting than he thinks.

Grand Return

Jetstorm finds himself staring at a tear once more. He's hesitant to leave his cushy lifestyle, but he also has the feeling of wanting to experience something new and interesting. Hopefully this time it won't lead him somewhere lonely, empty, and boring.

He put a hand to his chin as he thinks, and then stretches his arms out. He nods to himself as he heads through, finding himself on a ship, in front of a very large, rather imposing mech.

Jetstorm stares up at him and puts his hands on his hips.

"And who are you?"

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Meme!

What does their bedroom look like?

Do they have any daily rituals?

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Makeup?

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Intellectual pursuits?

Favorite book genre?

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Favorite beverage?

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

What is their biggest regret?

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Most prized possession?

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Concept of home and family?

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

What makes them feel guilty?

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

How misanthropic are they?

Hobbies?

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

Religion?

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

How do they express love?

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

AT YET ANOTHER INDETERMINATE POINT IN TIME

“R-really?” No one’s ever called Hellbat a friend before. He’s hardly ever been called a comrade. “You’re my friend too, Jetstorm! Best friend even! You never hit me or anything!”

Perhaps Hellbat would do better to interact with people without screwing them over, but he chooses not to question what he considers his momentary good fortune.

general-jetstorm-blog

"Best friend?" Jetstorm is flattered and stammers nervously for a few moments. He settles for just looking quite happy.

"I'd hazard a guess at that's what best friends do then," Jetstorm gives Hellbat another pat on the headfin and tries to smile. "So don't feel bad. I'd hate to see a friend feeling bad just because some ugly brute, well, existed."

AT YET ANOTHER INDETERMINATE POINT IN TIME

“You know just how it is, don’t you buddy?” Hellbat gently moves his arm to pat Jetstorm on the head with a finger. “Deadcobra’s pretty dumb too. He’s so dumb he doesn’t even know he’s dead.”

The compliments manage to perk Hellbat up quite a bit, fickle as his moods are. “I am awesome! I’m just unappreciated! If only everyone else could see that…. At least I’ve got you.”

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The head pats do feel good. Jetstorm leans into his touch and dims his optics a little.

"Sounds extremely dumb. Tankorr couldn't even speak in full sentences. I bet he wouldn't even know if he was dead either!" he comments, and notices once again that complimenting Hellbat perks him right up. It's the simple things, he supposes.

"You've fast become a... Friend," Jetstorm says hesitantly, looking nervously up at Hellbat.

AT YET ANOTHER INDETERMINATE POINT IN TIME

Seeing as everyone else around the Thunder Arrow is usually the cause of his problems, he’s not really used to having anyone to talk to. Or at least, no one to whine to that wouldn’t smack him for it. He decides to seize the opportunity.

“Oh Jetstorm,” he sniffles and turns his head to make eye contact. “First Deathsaurus got mad at me for having my spy cameras everywhere. And then of course Leozack was right there, so the moment I left the throne room he started beating me up. Then Killbison walked by and he started joining in for no reason!”

Hellbat chokes up a bit.

“And then, to make it all worse, I saw Deadcobra on the way back to my room. He’s so ugly it just ruins my day!”

general-jetstorm-blog

Jetstorm's headfins tilt downward just a bit as he listens, and he can't help but feel his spark pang at the tone of Hellbat's voice. He just sounds so sad!

"I know the feeling of supposedly comrades in arms hurting you. My leader would also routinely threaten to rip out my spark! It got old fast but it didn't get any less terrifying," Jetstorm says and reaches out, patting Hellbat oh so lightly on his headfin. "I also had an ugly comrade in arms that ugh, he was just so dumb."

He hovers up and a bit closer and this time nestles up against Hellbat's shoulder.

"But you're awesome, why would anyone beat you up?"

AT YET ANOTHER INDETERMINATE POINT IN TIME

Hellbat drags his feet back to his room. It’s been one of those days, and all he wants to do is lie down and watch his spy cameras roll by. Maybe cry a little bit. Just a little. Or a lot.

When he enters his room he’s a bit confused for a moment, having been so wrapped up in his TORTURED LIFE that he forgot his new occupant. When he sees Jetstorm floating around inside the doll house he mumbles out a greeting and flops face-down onto his bed.

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That isn't a usual greeting. Jetstorm peeks out the window of the house and then flies out and goes up to hover by Hellbat's helm, looking at him.

"What's happened? This is far worse than your usual routine of flopping on your berth," Jetstorm observes and then carefully sits himself down onto the bed.

Heeey, that’s pretty snazzy! I was thinking as going with something a little less, er, traditional myself, so I’ll let you off the hook on that one.

This will take all of my domestic skills. And some drapes.

general-jetstorm-blog

Less traditional? Well it's my first 'Halloween' after all. I wasn't sure what sort of costumes were acceptable.

If I can help? I can try.

Hehehe, clever right?

Hmmm, it needs to be something distracting. Something FLASHY.

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Well. I have an idea, it's from this game I was playing a lot since it gave me something to do. I could dress up like this! -he shares a picture- See? Her. And before you go, "Oh Jetstorm, that's an organic!" and stuff, she doesn't even exist, it's a video game. Video games are well, video games. They're pixels.

Typhoon Sunset by Allan R Chapman on Flickr.

Sure! I know where everyone keeps their stash. They might not be okay with it… but in that case you just need to distract them! Holiday of trickery, and all.

Psh, that’s no problem. We’ll MAKE one!

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You can distract them and I can fly in and get the treats! I like this plan.

But what are we going to be? I've never done 'costumes' before!

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