Appliances      Devices, Too      Mechanism       Consular       Things Poppy Never Knew

Poppy Dreams....

Poppy's dreams can be very - strange. Perhaps not so surprising with a house full of transformer refugees...

Adult-rated, some of them, but not explicit. You really need to read Appliances, at least, before reading these (Appliances and Devices, Too would be better.).

Pt 1 - Tangled
Pt 2 - Knight
Pt 3 - Pole
Pt 4 - Hair
Pt 5 - Battery
Pt 6 - Queue
Pt 7 - Vortex





1 - Tangled

With one last searing thrust, and a roar that would have done a monster truck rally proud, Optimus Prime overloaded. Beneath him, Ratchet's sirens had been shrieking for the last couple of minutes, lights flashing merrily indicating how much he was enjoying himself. As Prime collapsed onto his medic with the grating squeal of grinding metal, Ratchet slapped the back of his helm.
     "You've had your fun - now get off. You're too heavy."
     "Love you too, you old romantic..."
     Ratchet snorted then chuckled. "You want romance, you're in the wrong place." But he was content to lie still for a minute or two, one servo stroking what he could reach of Prime's faceplates. Finally Optimus sighed and shifted a little.
     "I suppose we'd better get ready for the meeting."
     He made to pull himself up - then halted.
     "Ratchet?"
     "What is it?"
     "I believe we're... entangled."
     "What?" The medic pulled his head back as far as he could and peered between their bodies. To his horror he could just make out Prime's windshield wipers and wing mirrors tangled up in his own bull bars, locking them both together. Optimus's weight on top of him hadn't helped, crushing the metal into a snarled mess. "Oh joy."
     "I could try pulling..." Prime pushed himself up, only to pause as Ratchet winced loudly and grabbed his shoulders.
     "That's going to rip things off."
     Wrapping one arm around Ratchet's back to hold him in place, Prime sat up then also peered down.
     "Oh dear."
     "Don't you 'oh dear' me! That's going to take a fragging blowtorch to sort out."
     Optimus flinched. "Could we try bolt cutters first?"
     Ratchet eyed him sardonically.
     "Or we could have Ironhide blast us apart..."
     "What do you suggest?"
     "That we not do this again?"
     "That is hardly helpful."
     Ratchet humphed and awkwardly squirmed a hand-that-had-become-some-sort-of-cutting-tool between them as deeply as he could. He grinned, evilly. "Hold still. This won't hurt. Much..."
     Metal began to squeal...



     "Erk!" Poppy jerked upright, blinking as early sunlight flooded the room. Beside her Livewire was agitatedly turning down his volume, reducing the grating intro of The Black Angel's Death Song to a quiet murmur.
     "Sorry Poppy."
     She rubbed her hands over her eyes.
     "Not your fault. It's not a song you hear much these days." She reached automatically for the mug of coffee Livewire always had waiting and gazed into its caffeine-laden depths, shaking her head. I have GOT to stop reading fanfic before I go to bed...






*****



The Black Angel's Death Song is on the album The Velvet Underground and Nico. It's just about my least favourite song in the world...


Is there anyone reading this who doesn't know what the Bayverse Transformers look like? Well, just in case... RatchetOptimus Prime



<- Ratchet, the Autobot medic.
20' tall, roughly. Transforms into a search and rescue vehicle.






Optimus Prime, the Autobot leader. ->
28'- 30' tall, depending on whose stats you choose to believe. Transforms into one of these.


(Both images taken from the internet - IMDB if I remember correctly.)




© Joules Taylor Nov 2011


Part 2 - Knight

"You must stay behind me, Milady." The massive knight in the green armour pushed her back as gently as he could. "It is my bounden duty to protect you."
     "But, Sir Deere," Poppy objected, tripping over the far-too-long hem of her elaborate gown. "There are too many of them! And there is nowhere to hide!"
     "Then you must climb a tree, Milady."
     Climb a tree? In these clothes? Besides, there weren't any trees nearb...oh... Her mental objections stopped as she nearly ran into a tree that hadnít been there a moment before. Her knight turned to her, offering her a hand, and she nearly screamed at the strange face before her - until she realised it was Muncher.
     "What? What are you doing..."
     But he'd already lifted her onto the first branch of the tree, where she clung precariously ten feet off the ground as he turned and began to attack the hordes of... rampaging lawnmowers? She nearly fell off the branch, just catching herself (and tearing off a ridiculously ornate sleeve as she did so. Where the hell had these clothes come from!?): listening closely she thought she could make out hissed words coming from the lurching-from-side-to-side garden machines...
     "... braiiiinssss... braiiiinsssss..."
     Poppy nearly fell off again. Hordes of zombie lawnmowers? Nonononono this couldn't be happening!
     "Muncher! What's going on?"
     The transformer paused in mowing down the machines to turn to her.
     "Well, y'see, this army o' nanobot-driven zombie lawnmowers're tryin' t'take over the world, and I'm s'posed to stop 'em."
     "By yourself?!"
     "Aye. 'Beat's doin' a disco at local history teachers' convention, 'Spin is givin' a talk on flower arranging at the police station, an' Chill's on 'is way to Mars."
     A very cold chill made its way up Poppy's spine. While the transformer had been speaking, the lawnmowers had drawn closer - so close they were about to rend Muncher limb from metal limb.
     "Watch out!!"
     Muncher lumberingly turned around, blades spinning as he hacked up the first of the zombies, then the second, then the third. For a moment Poppy thought everything would be all right, until Muncher yelped as a lawnmower took a bite out of his leg.
     "Shift over, Milady."
     Before Poppy could comprehend what he meant, he'd swung himself up onto the branch - which bent and creaked alarmingly - to sit beside her.
     "There we go. Just have to wait 'til Moon comes up, now."
     "... why?"
     "They'm allergic. Makes 'em sneeze."
     Poppy gazed at the transformer, the tree, the zombies, the dark blue unicorn in the distance...
     "... this is a dream, isn't it?"
     Muncher grinned and broke into the chorus of You Spin Me Round as the first of the zombie lawnmowers began to climb the tree...


Poppy jerked upright from where she'd dozed off in front of Ramp, wincing as her back complained. 'Spin was hovering beside her, looking concerned.
     "Poppy? Are you all right? You were making very thtrange thoundth..."
     "No, it's OK. Weird dream." She glanced behind her, to where she could see Muncher trundling along mowing the lawn, his holographic 'driver' looking quite convincing from a distance. Turning back to the computer screen, she peered, frowned, then sighed.

"AIRES (21 MAR - 19 APR): With Mars aligning with Necro the Dead Planet, armies of nanobot-driven zombie lawnmowers will attack. But any problems can be solved with a simple phonecall."

Of course. Star Screams. A fictional 'horrorscope', supposedly devised by Starscream, that had been published in a kids' comic a few years back and archived online.
     She supposed she should be grateful she'd woken up before she got to the phonecall. Given the way the dream was going it would have been from Santa telling her she'd been so naughty she was getting a black hole for Xmas this year...




© JAT 17/11/11


***

A sample of Star Screams can be found here. I really wish there was an ongoing Starscream horrorscope online... hm... perhaps I could write it...




Part 3 - Pole

"Come on, love, don't want to be late!"
     Poppy obediently shrugged into a jacket and followed the landlady of the King's Head out of a door. Outside, a tandem was leaning against the wall. Poppy stared at it in horror.
     "I can't ride a bike!"
     "You don't need to, love. You just need to sit on and pedal."
     But wasn't that the definition of riding a bike? Poppy wasn't prepared to argue. Not with the landlady waving that sword around...

A few minutes later they pulled up at the club and Poppy fell off. The landlady hauled her upright by the collar of the jacket and dragged her into the building, along a narrow corridor and into a dimly lit... well, it was a bit like a cinema's stadium seating, sloping upwards in curved tiers, except instead of rows of seats there were little round tables with lit candles in holders in the middle, and three chairs to each table: half the seats were already occupied by shadowy, murmuring figures. Down at ground level was a large stage - with a very large pole in the centre.
     "Um, where are we? And why?" Poppy asked the landlady, who was now pushing her to a central table half way up the hall.
     "Special feature. You'll like this." was the less than helpful reply. Poppy gave up, sat down, and allowed the woman to pour her a glass of... milk?
     "I'm allergic. Is there anything else to drink?"
     The landlady perused the menu.
     "Water, sparkling water, prune juice, non-alcoholic lager or perry."
     "Not much of a club, is it?" Poppy groused, exchanging her milk for a pint of sparkling water. She took a sip, then put the glass down as a stir ran through the audience.
     Down on the stage a large black face peered through the curtain, glanced upwards in alarm then pulled back. A second later the massive figure that the face belonged to was shoved through the curtain by a pair of green and black arms.
     Poppy goggled. Ironhide? She'd only seen snippets of film of him, and a couple of photographs, but it couldn't be anyone else.
     "Get a move on!" was hissed sharply from behind the curtain, and the weapons specialist lumbered forwards - stopping at the pole.
     Then the music started. Poppy recognised it - The Stripper.
     Oh gods NO...
     And Ironhide began to dance. With and around the pole.
     Poppy couldn't tear her eyes away. She wasn't sure which horrified her more, that she was actually watching it or that Ironhide was surprisingly good!
     How could something that huge and... and... lumpy be so sexy?
     The effect was somewhat spoiled when he swung himself upside down on the pole and it collapsed, taking a segment of the roof with it. As the audience ran screaming from the hall she glanced over her shoulder, to see the warrior drag himself grumpily upright and bellow,
     "Ratchet! Get me whoever built this slagging thing, I want to rearrange his face..."



She shook herself awake, unsure whether to laugh or groan. That had been... interesting, although where it had come from she had absolutely no idea. And wasn't sure she wanted to know.
     Oh god, if she ever met him she wouldn't know where to look!
     At least it hadn't been Optimus. That would have just been too... too... something. Awful? Weird? Much?
     Although... Ratchet had longer, leaner legs... Poppy shuddered as she tried to wipe out the image of the medic in Ironhide's place.
     There were times she wished that brain bleach actually existed...



© JAT 20/11/11


***



In case there's anyone reading this who doesn't know what the Bayverse Transformers look like, this is Ironhide (with to-scale human. Pic stolen from a football site!) - although he probably wouldn't have the cannons out when poledancing...

Ironhide

Part 4 - Hair

Poppy propped her chin in her hands and regarded herself in the mirror of the old-fashioned dressing table against the wall of her bedroom. Tried to, at any rate. She blew a puff of air upwards, watching as her fringe lifted away from her eyes.
     No good. She was going to have to face it. She needed to get her hair cut.
     This was not her favourite activity. Having been cursed with thin hair - no, dammit, fine hair. It was fine, not thin, and definitely not like brown smoke Ė her choice as to style was limited, unless she wanted to go in for specialised treatment. Which she didn't. Wash, condition, dry, go. That was the limit of what she was prepared to do.
     You try finding any self-respecting stylist who'd do what she wanted!
     She sighed. There was a new salon just opened in the town; since the last three she'd tried hadn't done what she'd wanted, she may as well give it a go. Not that she expected much joy of the endeavour...

'Beat wasn't happy when she opted to take the bus rather than have him drive - he took his duties as her guardian seriously - but parking was difficult in that part of the town. She insisted she'd be safe, and slipped Cable into her bag, and reluctantly agreed to have Ramp access all the security and road CCTV in the area so they could keep an eye on her, and the Mini finally, grumpily, agreed.
     And actually, it felt quite nice, being out on her own for once. Well, as much on your own as you can be on the bus...

The salon was pleasant enough, and the staff eager, much as expected of a brand new place, and she relaxed into the somewhat tentative hands of the washer, closing her eyes. All right, she'd have to admit it, she did rather enjoy the pampering once she was there. The washer turned off the tap and swathed her head in a big fluffy towel, then led her over to a chair and smiled at her in the mirror.
     "The stylist will be with you in a minute. Can I get you a tea or coffee?"
     "Mm. Coffee would be nice. Black, one sugar?"
     "Yep - be right back."
     Poppy closed her eyes again and settled back into the chair, the scents and sounds of the salon soothing and peaceful. Moments later a voice broke into her reverie - a voice that... seemed to come from some considerable distance above her?
     "Hello, dahling - what can we do you for today?"
     She opened her eyes and flinched violently. All she could see in the mirror was herself - and an immense pair of double swords hovering over her head.
     "AAAAHHHHHH!!" She looked up frantically, to see a silver head with brilliant blue eyes gazing down at her. Sideswipe grinned as he clicked his swords together.
     "Short back and sides?"

Poppy jerked awake as the bus rounded a corner a little too fast, bumping her head against the window. Disorientated for a moment, she blinked then breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't real. It had just been a dream. Another weird dream. She hadn't thought she was tired enough to fall asleep on a bus.
     And her stop was next - she'd woken just in time. Although now she wondered if she should just cancel the appointment and try cutting her hair herself, it might be safer...
     No, she was here now, may as well get it over with.
     Although the salon's logo - a pair of crossed scissors that closely resembled swords - gave her pause for a minute or two...


*****

The 'brown smoke' comment refers to the Mighty Boosh episode Nanageddon

In case there's anyone reading this who doesn't know what the Bayverse Transformers look like, this is Sideswipe. SideswipeSideswipe





15' tall. He's one of the few Transformers with a vaguely human face (screencap from DotM)












© JAT 23/11/11


Part 5 - Battery

Poppy cowered, flinching, as Jolt paced back and forth, electrostatic arcs sparking along and across his body, centred on those dangerous triple-hooked claws he had for hands. Sideswipe - equally dangerous as he waved his swords around to make his point - seemed to be arguing with his electrically-beleaguered colleague.
     Or so she assumed from their movements and the rapid Cybertronian that flickered back and forth. Not that she understood the language. To her it was all a weird electrical crackling underscored by the lovecalls of sperm whales, though how she knew that she didn't know as she'd never heard a sperm whale but anyway... what were they saying?
     "You'll need this ghoti in your ear." a cultured voice came from above her. She flinched again, glancing up to see Ratchet towering above her.
     "I beg your pardon?"
     "You'll need this ghoti in your ear." he repeated, a touch of impatience in his voice, and held out... it looked like a goldfish. Or maybe a Babelfish. Oh - of course, now it all made sense. She shuddered as the fish slid into her ear, and, as expected by anyone familiar with Douglas Adams, she could immediately understand what was going on.
     Though moments later she really wished she couldn't.

"No."
     "Aww, g'wan. As a favour."
     Jolt planted lightning-filled hands on his hipstruts and narrowed his optics - with his facial structure it was the closest he could come to expressing annoyance - glowering at the warrior, who was gliding back and forth in elegant motion.
     "No!"
     Sideswipe paused long enough to retract the lefthand swords and hold out... Poppy peered, then gasped silently. It looked like... like... a vibrator. One that was bigger than she was, and covered with all sorts of studs and... squiggles... and... oh god, there was a hole in the top...
     "Please..."
     "I am not going to power your toys. What do you think I am, some sort of battery? Don't answer that." he added as Sideswipe's mouth opened. "Unless you want lightning up your aft."
     Sideswipe's mouth closed with an audible clank. Shoulders hunching he turned away, muttering "Spoilsport" under his breath, then yelping as a small lightning strike flicked across his rear.
     Then he caught sight of Poppy, and grinned the sort of grin that usually got the owner locked up, or at least placed under police observation. He eyed Ratchet.
     "The human body generates an electrical current, doesn't it? D'you think I could use her to power it?"
     Ratchet glanced down at the human cowering at his feet, then gazed thoughtfully at the sex toy.
     "She'd probably fit. Just. We can lop off any extrusions. I'm sure the rewiring will be relatively straightforward..."
     "...eeep..." Poppy's head swivelled as she frantically sought out somewhere to hide.
     But there was nowhere to run. Not to mention her shoes had been nailed to the floor.
     As Ratchet reached down and Sideswipe popped off the bottom cover of the vibrator, Poppy struggled to escape...

And woke up just as she hit the bedroom floor, so completely tangled in her continental quilt she couldn't move.
     "... help...?"
     Ramp appeared at her door and gazed down. She'd swear he'd be rolling his eyes if he were human.
     "Need a hand?"
     "What do you think?" she growled, struggling to get her hands free. He reached down, his four arms rapidly untangling the bulky bedclothes until Poppy could extricate herself, then pulled her to her feet.
     "Nightmare?"
     She sighed. "Something like that. And watching too much Matrix."
     Ramp eyed her dryly, eyes twinkling.
     "And still reading too much fanfic, Poppy..."



*****

Ghoti - fish. A play on English pronunciation - gh pronounced 'f' as in enough; o pronounced 'i' as in women; ti pronounced 'sh' as in nation. (In fact, the placing of the letters wouldn't work - there's no English word beginning 'gh' that is pronounced 'f', or a 'ti' at the end of an English word that would be pronounced 'sh' - but it's still fun!)

Jolt is intriguing. He appears in the second film for possibly 60 seconds, if that, has no lines whatsoever, but performs a pretty important function in the tiny amount of screen time he's given. He has no close-ups, so getting a screen cap is almost impossible, and Bay forgot about him for the third film. However, a talented DeviantArt artist has made what looks to me like a pretty accurate Jolt - you can see his face here, and pics of the whole figure here. There's IMDb concept art here, which is what the toy is based on, but his appearance in the film is closer to the DeviantArt version (as far as I can tell!)


© JAT 27/11/11


Part 6 - Queue

Xmas lights, the big decorated tree in the centre of the shopping precinct, the sound of laughter and the smell of hot mince pies - Poppy loved the Yuletide atmosphere. She could have lived without the grizzling kids, but as long as you avoided the toy shops they were bearable.
     She was just browsing today, trying to get ideas. Not that she had many people to buy for... she frowned. There were her wards, of course, but what on earth - or off it - would you get a transformer as a gift? She paused for a moment, pondering, then shrugged. Maybe something would come to her as she browsed...
     It wasn't until a few minutes later that she became aware of people looking at her oddly. At first she dismissed it as her imagination - but as it became more and more apparent she began to wonder if she had something on her face, or something. She wiped at her mouth and decided to check a mirror the first chance she got, but before she found anything so useful, a woman with a little girl tugging on her hand stopped, smiled and pointed to the ground behind Poppy.
     "They're adorable! Where can I get one?"
     A familiar feeling of dread began to rise in Poppy's stomach. She turned very slowly, begging the fates that she not find what she was expecting, but of course the fates were somewhere else that day. Probably off torturing someone.
     Behind her, in a queue, were Cable, Livewire, Grounds and Steamy. And behind them were Farscan, TeeVee, Blue and Downbeat. And behind them were 'Spin and Ramp, followed by 'Beat. And all of them were in their robot form.
     Poppy screamed mentally, looking around frantically for some way of hiding them. 'Spin was shaking his head.
     "Thorry Poppy. I told them it wath a bad idea, but they inthithted..."
     "And they speak as well!" The woman was trying to restrain the small child, who was grabbing for Livewire with all the fierce determination that a three year old can muster. "I've got to have one!"
     "Prototypes...." Poppy managed to gasp out. "Not for general sale yet. Trying to gauge public opinion before going into mass-producing."
     "Well I'd buy one. In fact, if they weren't too dear, I'd buy several as presents!"
     "Thanks... I'll be sure to report that back to the team..."
     She ushered the transformers towards the exit, vastly relieved to find Graham there.
     "Oh thank god... Help me get them back home?"
     But Graham had suddenly stopped being English and gabbled at her in a language she didn't recognise, let alone understand...

"Poppy?"
     She jerked awake, heart pounding, then flopped back onto the sofa, eyeing 'Spin with relief..
     "Oh thank god... Just a dream."
     "Yeth, jutht a dream. Would you like a coffee?"
     "Mm, please." As 'Spin turned towards the kitchen Poppy frowned at the richly decorated tree in the corner. When had she got that? She didn't remember buying a tree... And surely it was too early to put up decorations...
     The tree waved a branch at her.
     "Hello!"
     Poppy gaped. Two of the tree's largest baubles lit up in the brilliant turquoise she'd come to associate with transformer eyes, while a large strand of red tinsel formed itself into a mouth.
     Poppy couldn't work out how a xmas tree could look sinister, but this one managed it. The tinsel mouth smirked as two more branches extended, the pine cones at the ends suddenly sprouting viciously clawed fingers. It pulled itself out of its stand and began to creep towards her. To her horror she found she couldn't move.
     "We're going to have so much fun..."

"NOOOOOOO!!"
     Poppy awoke with a loud thud as she fell off the sofa. She looked up to see a circle of worried eyes gazing down at her.
     "Are you all right?" Ramp pulled her upright and settled her back on the sofa. She took several deep breaths and eyed him warily.
     "Am I still dreaming?"
     Ramp glanced at 'Spin and shook his head.
     "I don't think so..."
     "Thank god for that!"
     Ramp perched on the arm of the sofa and regarded her gravely.
     "You know, this 'dreaming' thing you do does seem to cause you a lot of problems. Why don't you have it removed?"
     Poppy chuckled weakly.
     "Believe me, there are times I wish I could." She frowned. "There aren't any of you masquerading as xmas trees, are there?"
     Lights flickered across Ramp as he quickly searched, then shook his head. Poppy was still grateful that they'd picked up some of the more useful human mannerisms.
     "No. Though it's an interesting idea."
     Poppy stared at him in horror...



© JAT 03/12/11


Part 7 - Vortex

Poppy sighed happily and petted Prowl's steering wheel. It wasn't often the tactician allowed anyone to travel with him - at least, not now he had his alt form and just about everyone on the planet knew who he was (and by extension not to mess with him, since he'd had his armour reinforced almost to the Prime's standard and some serious weaponry fitted last time he was on Diego Garcia), so Poppy leaned back in the luxurious seat and simply enjoyed the smoothest ride she'd ever experienced.
     Until he came to a sudden and dramatic stop. Poppy bit back a shriek as she found herself held safely in some sort of field which prevented her from moving as the Nemesis juddered with the force of the braking.
     "Prowl? What's wrong?"
     The Nemesis growled and turned in the direction of a small railway bridge - and Poppy gasped. Underneath it, and blocking the road completely, was a tangle of metal that... she peered. Yes, it looked like two vehicles had collided... tangled... She inclined her head, trying to make out what had happened - then blushed. It seriously looked as though the vehicles had been... interfacing. In public. Under a bridge.
     "Please exit the vehicle, Ms Moss."
     Poppy knew better than to object when Prowl used the honorific. She hastily slid out of the car and hung back as Prowl transformed and strode towards the metal tangle, which was now struggling to separate itself. Themselves, rather. As they pulled themselves together they were revealed as two transformers Poppy didn't know, one red, the other green.
     At a guess, the green one was a tractor, the other some sort of liquid transporter, oil or milk or something. They both towered over Prowl, who stood with legs akimbo and servos planted firmly on his hip struts as he began to speak.
     In Cybertronian. Which was probably fortunate as the two miscreants were sinking further and further groundward in embarrassment and shame. By the time he'd finished they were practically crawling on the ground in mortification.
     Prowl's pontification came to a halt, and the pair nodded meekly, quiet voices apologetic. The tactician nodded, once, sharply, waited until they had transformed to alt mode (Poppy's guess had been correct) and driven off in opposite directions, then transformed back to his own vehicle mode and opened the door for Poppy to get back in.
     "I am sorry, Poppy. I need to get back and report this event. The Prime will want to know in case he needs to prepare a public apology."
     "Of course, sir. Thank you for the drive, in any case, it's been wonderful."
     "Perhaps we can arrange it for another time."
     "I'd like that..."
     Prowl played classical music all the way back to the consulate. Cybertronian classical music. Poppy wasn't at all sure what she thought about it, but it was certainly... interesting.

"Thank you, Prowl. This is indeed an incident I need to know of. You have my thanks for handling it promptly and correctly."
     "My duty, sir."
     "And it is much appreciated. May Primus reward you."
     As the screen blinked off Poppy frowned. The Prime had never said anything like that before. But before she could comment, a strange, grey metallic chevron appeared on Prowls helm, above his optics - and the tactician suddenly dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Oddly, the scent of nutmeg filled the air.
     "Um, Prowl? Are you OK?"
     Muttered grumbling came from the Nemesis as Prowl tried to push himself up, but only managed to dig holes into the floor instead. Poppy glanced around anxiously, beckoning worriedly as Ramp transformed into his root mode and peered curiously at the prone tactician.
     "Well that's a bit of a problem..."
     Prowl's growling grew a little louder, and Ramp tilted his helm, listening.
     "Yes, I can see what it is, Prowl, but only Primus can get it off. And only the Prime might be able to help you stand while you're wearing it, and even that is doubtful. You currently weigh as much as a medium sized asteroid and are getting heavier all the time."
     Poppy stared at the computer, eyes wide.
     "Um, what?"
     Ramp's optics flickered mischievously. "It's the stuff of legend. It's a tritonium award, a special acknowledgment from Primus for a job done a bit too well."
     "What's tritonium?"
     "A super massive element with a spiralling fractal structure." He glanced down as Prowl sank a little deeper into the floor. "Mm. You'd better transform, sir."
     A stream of slightly garbled Cybertronian burbled up from the ground, and Ramp 'grinned'.
     "No, I know you won't be able to assume your chosen alt mode. But you might be able to transform into a space bridge."
     The sounds coming from Prowl rose in both volume and pitch. Ramp chittered his amusement.
     "But just think! We could use you to get back to Cybertron! Or maybe even use you to bring our home here! Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
     Poppy stared as Prowl began to transform, his frame collapsing into what looked like an illustration of a black hole. Ramp rubbed his servos together - just before he was stretched in a long thin shape and sucked, laughing manically, into what Prowl was becoming.
     Poppy tried to back away, but found herself being pulled inexorably closer and closer to the wormhole that had once been the tactician...

THUD.
     "Eeeek!" Poppy jerked awake, to find herself on the floor, having rolled off her bed tangled in her duvet. Again.
     Livewire was peering down at her, alarmed.
     "Are you all right, Poppy?"
     The consul rubbed her backside, which had taken the brunt of her fall.
     "I'll be fine." She glanced a little nervously around the room, but everything appeared to still be here and in its correct place. "Where's Prowl?"
     "Organising his transfer to America. He says it's too... safe here for his talents and he needs to explore more of the planet before he goes back to Diego Garcia. He's joining Ironhide, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker for a while."
     Poppy breathed a sigh of relief, then scolded herself for it. She liked Prowl, even if she found him intimidating. And it had only been another of her dreams.
     She wondered if they might have time for a drive before Prowl left the UK. Then again, did she really want to risk it...?



Dedicated to Vivienne Granger, who inspired it.
     We were swapping jokes via email and I sent her that wonderful Demotivational poster -


And it just grew from there...

Tritonium




© JAT 09/10/12