Head in the Clouds (Scene - Completed!)

[Karl Jak]

The pair pierced up above the cloud layer. Elsewhere, members of the Fleet were likewise reaching for the heavens.

Here, however, the pair found nothing.

That is, until they both realized that the clouds were moving.

And the clouds were pissed.

***​

Characters Involved: Skywarp and Thundercracker

Notes: You're literally in the clouds, fighting a monster made of air. You can retreat at any point you desire.

Enemy NPC Characters: a Size 7 Air Elemental that will transform into a Storm Elemental about halfway through the length of the scene.

Length of Scene: This Scene will last for up to 96 hours
Post Count/Size: 2 Posts max / 2500 words max (This is from each of you)
Other Stuff: Others MAY NOT join this scene if they move along this path.

Good luck.

 

[Arthur Morgan]

"Skywarp to Command 2," Skywarp reported smoothly, his voice robotic and toneless as it cut across the airwaves. "Transmitting coordinates. No visible contact ahead. Weather report incoming."

The transmission shot out into the ether in a quick burst of data. Moments later, the radio crackled to life with a response.

"Command 2 to Skywarp. Acknowledged."

Skywarp and Thundercracker dove through the abyss of clouds like twin forks of lightning. Their sleek jet forms tore at the downy white veil of atmosphere, vaporous fog streaked with the sharp tang of saltwater trailing in their wake. On their tail, a squadron of F-22 Raptors flew in perfect delta formation— flanking the pair of jets as they slashed through the dense cloud layer.

Pulling slightly ahead of Thundercracker, the dark silhouette of Skywarp blazed across the azure expanse, easily cutting a path across the billowing, overcast sky. From his vantage point high above the sea of Opealon, the planet seemed almost like a massive blue marble, its brilliant sapphire hue intensifying wherever the sun's rays grazed its watery surface. It was all quite pretty, he had to admit, but that didn't make it any less boring.

Five minutes passed smoothly. Twenty-four F-22s coasted along, trailing behind the pair of alien jets, while far below a fleet of Syntech warships emerged from amid the shimmering waves, the bristling turrets on their decks scanning the skies.

Suddenly, Skywarp reversed his thrusters, executing an impeccable barrel roll; his wings causing the air to ripple around him as he weaved between the other planes in mock pursuit. Many of the pilots craned their necks to track his progress, wide-eyed and stricken with terror. The sunny yellow glass of his cockpit just narrowly missed tapping that of one of the F-22s, flirting with danger— and very nearly sending the poor squishy ensconced within into cardiac arrest.

"Skywarp to Command 2." The jet-former's bland tone pierced the quiet, another transmission traveling in a lightning-fast crackle of static. "Transmitting coordinates, no visible contact ahead. Weather report incoming."

"Command 2 to Skywarp. Acknowledged."

A beat later, he'd opened a private comm to Thundercracker, an irate sigh buzzing over their connection. "This is boring as slag. Is this entire planet nothing but water?"

"A lot of it," TC confirmed.

Skywarp groaned, peeling away from his harassment of the F-22s. He swiftly rejoined his wing-brother in flight, settling into position to his left. Coasting wingtip to wingtip.

They'd been circling for what felt like an eternity, their quarry seemingly slipping further away with each passing cycle. As a result, the quiet hum of excess energy buzz-sawing throughout Skywarp's frame was almost unbearable. He could feel his systems straining against the unyielding stillness, the hollowness of their objective reverberating inside his processor as he fought to maintain formation. His sensors scanned the horizon again and again and yet again, daring the sun-streaked clouds to challenge him— ready to burst into a frenzied pursuit at any moment.

“Skywarp to Command 2," he droned flatly, sending the transmission on a level so detached it was a wonder he even relayed it at all. "Transmitting coordinates. No hostiles noted on my radar. Skies are clear, weather minimal.”

Silence over the comms. Internally, Skywarp scowled. Seemed that whatever dumb fleshy was managing the tower back at base must've fallen asleep at the wheel, so to speak.

Ten seconds passed... twenty-five... thirty. Soon enough, he had been waiting for an acknowledgement from Command Point 2 for four agonizing minutes. The next check-in was approaching fast, and he still lacked a response.

“Skywarp to Command 2," he relayed again. "Transmitting coordinates. No contact. Weather report incoming.”

Dead air.

Skywarp didn't wait to transmit again this time. He felt a shift in the broad expanse of cloudy sky around them. Like they were being watched— like they were exposed, locked within someone's iron sights.

Almost subconsciously, he checked his momentum. Thundercracker slowed to remain at his side.

“Skywarp to Command 2," Skywarp snapped, words clipped and brimming with cold impatience. "I am transmitting my coordinates. No contact. Skies... clear.”

Silence for five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. Then—

A voice jam-packed with interference cut across his thoughts, snowy and grating with static. "—mmand 2 to Skywarp — we are — channel — magnetic — interference — unable to — report —"

The transmission leapt and teetered, before finally coming to an abrupt stop, leaving only a deafening storm of reverberating static in its wake.

"Slag," Skywarp hissed in frustration. His dark-painted plating clamped tight with tension, a shiver disrupting his ordinarily flawless flight orientation. "Unclear, Command 2. Repeat that?"

All around them, the clouds thickened, growing so dense that even the sunlight struggled to break through.

Thundercracker picked up on Skywarp's shift in mood almost instantly. He pivoted in the air, his angular wings tilting towards his wing-brother in silent questioning.

"Contact with base has been disrupted," Skywarp reported. He allowed their communication channel to swell, encompassing the squadron of jet fighters accompanying them. "Anyone able to get through to Command 2?"

One by one, a chorus of negatives traveled across the entire squadron. It drowned out the rumble of engines and echoed in his audials like a portentous omen.

"Weird. Something strange going on back at Command, you think?" TC wondered aloud.

A gust of wind buffeted him, catching at his wings and knocking him somewhat out of formation. He shook it off with a displeased squawk of his vocalizer, darting back up to resume his original position.

Skywarp, too, found himself struggling against the lashing winds. The beautiful oasis of clouds that had not a moment ago cradled them in its placid embrace now seemed to be morphing into some kind of raging vortex— darker, thicker, faster moving. They were tossed about by the rushing gales like rag-dolls, not even their sturdy metal frames spared the worst of it.

"Nah," called Warp, barely audible over the ferocious howl of the wind. "Sounded like some kind of interference. Electromagnetic, if I had to guess."

"Electromagnetic interference? That can't be right," TC responded, likewise fighting against the denser-than-expected cloud cover. "The connection's been crystal clear for the past cycle. What could've changed?"

"Pit if I know, TC. But I got a real bad feeling..."

They coasted along, the dark forms of their squadron escort blurring in and out of the foggy clouds like specters. Silence reigned over the comms, nothing but the rush of wind warbling in the air.

It was exactly 2.5 seconds before Skywarp noticed that they'd lost about half of the squadron, and by then, the radio was exploding with sound, a dozen voices ringing out in distress, pierced intermittently by reverb-filled screeches of static.

"Can't see— clouds—"

"Can't find up—"

"— MAYDAY! MAYDAY!"

"— going — down —"

Over the din, Skywarp strained to make out Thundercracker's voice, distorted by static and the sound of fleshies screaming. But even over the cacophony of background noise, he could still discern his comrade's words loud and clear.

"Warp, something isn't — right — malfunctioning!"

The thing about Skywarp was, he was constantly doing math up in that big dumb helm of his. A side effect of his Warp Drive, his processor actively prevented him from splintering himself inside walls or merging with other mechs, averting a messy, exceptionally embarrassing death.

As a result, his ability to orient himself was so precise that even when his internal up/down instrumentation failed, he often couldn't tell the difference due to already having made those calculations himself. Annoying? Yeah, sometimes. Necessary? You bet.

But as he watched Thundercracker wobble unsteadily in the air next to him, his blue nosecone dipping drunkenly towards the crashing waves below, Skywarp had never been more thankful for that part of his stupid, fragged-up processor.

"Can't tell— south — west — no up — can't SEE —"

Frantic and finding that his usual communications were met with only static across the airwaves, Skywarp transmitted a data burst to Thundercracker and the remaining pilots in the air. Basic stuff like altitude, airspeed, and their current distance from the ground.

And with great relief, he watched as they all evened out, unsteadily weaving back into place— even a few of the dozen that they'd originally lost beneath the cloud layer surging up to rejoin them above the lower ring of misty atmosphere. The rest... well, that didn't really bear thinking about.

"Primus," Skywarp ex-vented harshly over the comms, his engines growling in agitation. He felt a ripple of relief when a flurry of acknowledging signals answered him, the strange interference clearing, if only for the moment. "What the slag was that all about?"

As soon as the words left his vocalizer, the heavens wailed in answer. The clouds began to churn and twist around them in a whirling rage. As they circled faster, a funneling of white and gray gradually amassed at its center, slowly coalescing into the unmistakable shape of a face— a face that was glaring right at them.

The cloud-creature's wide eyes bulged. A mouth split from the maelstrom that formed its terrifying visage, lips stretched into a nightmarish rictus and howling with fury.

"WARP!" TC scolded him. "You can't just say things like that, it's a whole trope!"

1,540 words out of 2,500.

 

[King Shark]

“I’ve never seen anything this big!” remarked Skywarp. “It reminds me of this one time I saw Megatron bust it out by the disposal unit and -”

Winds crashed loudly around them, sweeping the rest of the joke under the rug.

The two Cybertronian jets hooked around the face in the clouds, whose abyssal eyes shifted slowly to follow them. They gave it a wide berth.

Birds on the wind, they orbited the tremendous visage much like moons to a planet’s orbit. Across the vast expanse of clouds, like an impressionist’s vaguest interpretation of a head, Thundercracker could just make out the silhouettes of the F-22s on the other side. All around them wispy cirrus clouds blocked out the ocean of blue sky, creating a thunder dome of wind currents. They were in the thing, traversing across it on its terms. The thought was far from comforting.

“I know!” exclaimed Thundercracker, pitching his voice to climb above the buffeting gusts. “It’s VERY immense!”

“You’re right! That thing is colossal!”

“It’s like TWISTER! Only we’re not on the brink of divorce!” yelled Thundercracker.

He pitched and yawed, climbing an updraft with some effort. Skywarp, always able to see past the fog of war with a field awareness scarcely rivaled, dodged the worst of the uphill climb with some careful maneuvering. They found themselves side by side again.

“You don’t know that,” Warp quipped back. “Maybe things between us have been rockier than you think!”

Thundercracker cackled.

In the second that followed, the gravity of the situation began to envelop them, and there were no words. The F-22s, lagging behind, were doing their best to make up the ground the Decepticons had placed between them, but groundlings, pilots or not, could never hope to rival the natural joie de vivre of a Cybertronian seeker in their element. The distance between the Fleet and the Bonds grew slowly but surely.

“How are we going to fight that thing?” pondered ‘Cracker aloud, dropping down to fly directly beneath Warp. “I mean…it’s air.”

“It’s also clouds,” Warp informed him matter-of-factly. “So it’s water, too, and uh…other stuff.”

“We need a plan!” TC said. “Something crazy, unexpected, and brilliant. Some kind of Skywarp Special that’ll blow the doors off this thing, and leave those pilots talking about how cool we are. We need that Tom Cruise ‘X’ factor, like in Top Gun.”

“I’ve never seen Top Gun!” Warp yelled out. “Not everything is like the movies!”

“I’ve never seen Top Gun either! But it’s like, cultural saturation, man! We’ve just gotta imagine we’re Tom Cruise, and the rest will manifest itself!”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“It’s the power of positive thinking!”

A tremendous hiss like a releasing of gas pressure suddenly punctured the bubble of radio static, wind howling, and magnetic pressure. From beneath, a literal fist of clouds erupted like a volcanic plume from the top end of a cumulonimbus plateau; the Decepticons split port and starboard while the fist not so much as threaded but punched the needle between them.

A sudden explosion of current swept Thundercracker away, spiraling like a butterfly in a storm, and he lost sight of Skywarp.

“Warp!” he cried, feeling his voice carried hither and thither by the wind. “WARP!”

In a sudden moment of realization, he collected a film reel of memories of battles prior, times separated, and post mortem conversations on what went wrong. Recalling this, he reminded himself that when separated, it was always best to return from whence they came. That’s where they would come together.

The white and blue jet steadied itself and leaned into the gust, riding it, before he shot the gap. The current swirled at the top like a wave. Thundercracker found the barrel between the face and the lip of the current, swirled around it like a half-pipe, and burst out the other end. He rode it right to the top, feeling elated, swelled up into the air with his nose to the sky…

…then stalled.

All at once he allowed the force of gravity to tip him down, slowly down, until he was angled right towards the furious face of the elemental itself. It opened its wide, yawning maw, and from behind he felt a cloud hand gust him down towards the mouth. He let it.

He plummeted straight down, ninety degrees, right towards the mouth.

Then, at the last instant, he jerked back and performed a perfect Immelmann Turn. The manuever swept him right through the closing jaws of the beast, and right past its lip - he felt the gust from behind him, moments away from being crushed by raw pressure.

Thrusts at full bore, he swept out and around, closing in on the coordinates he’d last spoken to Skywarp.

Warp rose up out of the clouds, shaking off moisture with a quick tip to his port and starboard. He rose up until he was directly beneath Thundercracker, and though the whipping winds around them drowned out the sound, TC could envision a breath of relief from his wing-brother.

“That was nuts!” ‘Cracker said. He sounded strained to his own ears, and he knew it.

“And bolts,” replied Warp, belting out a whiplash laugh. “Listen. I have a plan! And you’re going to have to trust me on this one!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked a single plan you’ve prefaced with that statement! I also don’t think a single one of those plans has worked!”

“This one is going to be different!” Skywarp called out. “Just hear me out! This thing is clearly pissed, right!?”

“...right!”

The face of the cloud-strosity was the portrait of fury, roaring audibly, and whipping further into a frenzy. It grew darker, with streaks of black slashing the windy vortex. From within the depths of the creature forks of lightning punctuated the whorls, creating a strobe-like effect. They snaked about its face like angry veins popping out around its temples.

“Here’s the plan! I’m going to canvas out the comms, and command the pilots! I’m going to send them in as bait to distract this thing, and while it’s dealing with them, you’re going to pierce right into its mouth and SONIC BOOM the FRAG out of it!”

A pause.

“I hate that! That’s terrible! Have you even seen Tremors!? ANY OF THEM!? All you’re going to do is waste lives, and then we’ll get trounced and it’s all over!” TC barked. “That’s a ridiculous plan! Truly awful! Zero out of ten!”

“No, no, wait! I’ll be there with them! I’ll totally guard them, and make sure they know the plan and stuff! Full communication! I’m going to coordinate with them so they know what’s going on and then nothing will go wrong! An enormous angry monster can’t help but target an entire swarm of jets peppering it with annoying shots! It’s flawless! It’s going to work! It’s going to be literally perfect!”

Thundercracker contemplated, and the two rose up by twenty degrees, climbing.

“I still hate it! Are you sure you can guard them? What if you screw the whole thing up!?”

“When have I ever let you down before!?”

Thundercracker reflected back on nearly two dozen times that Skywarp had let him down before - and that was just the quick hits on a long list of experiences that made this entire scheme feel slapdash to him. He imagined jets falling out of the sky, fleshbag screams, and for some reason couldn’t help but picture his dog again.

But…he didn’t have another idea.

“Okay!” he finally yelled back. “I’m going to trust you! Just…don’t screw this up, okay!? Protect those pilots, and I’ll do my part! I’ll get right up in that thing and SONIC BOOM the ever-living pit out of it!”

“That’s the plan!” barked back Warp. “I’ll do my part! You just do yours! Ready?”

“Ready!” clapped back ‘Cracker. “...and…BREAK!”

They engaged full thrusters, and split apart. Thundercracker climbed high, while Skywarp u-turned to try and find the F-22 fleet.

1359 words out of 2500

 

[Arthur Morgan]

Skywarp's thrusters whined in protest as he pushed them to their breaking point, trails of searing fire stretching in his wake. His sensors were a blur, desperately seeking the F-22s through the crash of rain and thunder. The titanic storm-beast was bearing down on them with a vengeance— they had only seconds left before it would truly be upon them.

Truth be told, Thundercracker's warning left him flabbergasted. Exercise caution around those tiny fighters? Yeah, right! After all, it was every mech for himself out here, wasn't it? If the squishy pilots couldn't keep up with Skywarp, couldn't even avoid getting smacked outta the sky by something this big, dumb, and slow, then they had no business being in the air!

A gigantic, amorphous hand materialized from amid the air currents, its fluid fingers coalescing into a solid fist. The pressure of the wind shifted wildly, Warp's audials filled with a deafening howl as the hand swung towards him with frightening speed.

Yeah, thought Skywarp as he jinked and rolled, engines roaring as he evaded the wispy talons at the last second. Maybe TC was just a little soft-sparked after so many years separated from their true mission! That had to be it.

Suddenly, on the distant horizon, a glint of metal caught his attention— swiftly followed by a set of wings slicing through the clouds. A triumphant whoop escaped Skywarp's vocalizer as he recognized the telltale formation of the F-22 fleet, their sleek silhouettes darting amongst the billowing skies, desperately fighting to remain aloft.

"Hey, TC, I've found them! They're heading right towards the storm. Get ready to make your move!"

"Copy that, Warp! I'm ready when you are!" Thundercracker's voice crackled over the comms. There was a pregnant pause, then: "Remember. Be careful!"

If he'd been outside of his jet configuration, Skywarp would've rolled his optics. He was always careful, now wasn't he?

He plummeted towards the F-22 squadron, engines bellowing like a thousand thunderclaps as he settled among their number, nudging his way into the lead. The pilots balked at the sight of the Decepticon jet emerging from the swirling vortex of clouds, but before they could react, Skywarp was already barking out orders over the comms.

"Alright, listen up, vermin!" he snapped, channeling a bit of Screamer's irritable condescension for good measure. "That storm is coming for us, and we need to distract it so Thundercracker can take it down. I want you to spread out and fly in a zig-zag pattern! Shoot at the storm, make it angry, but don't get too close! Any of you got a problem with that?!"

One of the pilots— Skywarp didn't care to determine which one —actually mustered up the nerve to speak. "And what exactly will you be doing?"

But Skywarp only laughed, a coldly arrogant snicker that left his compatriots more than a little uneasy. This fleshling had ball bearings, he'd give ‘em that!

"Aw, don't fret your tiny little head about it, squish. I'll be right there with you. Now, we ain't got much time, so let's scram!"

Like metallic swallows, the F-22s scattered and began to soar in a tight serpentine pattern. Skywarp spearheaded their movements, his black and purple finish nearly camouflaged by the dark, churning clouds.

As their splintered squadron scrambled for altitude, the sky seemed to rip in two, unleashing a primal fury. A thunderous roar of rage emanated from the cloud-beast, the intensity of its electrical strikes increasing as it clawed outwards to attack them, hurling out glorious spears of lightning with ever-growing ferocity. The cyclone of dark, rain-laden clouds that made up its torso churned— reshaping the airspace around them into a treacherous minefield of white-hot lightning and volatile cloudbursts.

Skywarp's armored plating hummed with energy as his frame accelerated forward, slicing through the clouds like a jet-black blade, the storm elemental's body twisting to follow him. The squalling winds tore at his audials as he sped along, thrusters blazing bright and electricity crackling in the air. He'd never felt more alive!

"C'mon, pick up the pace!" the seeker called, careening so close to an allied jet that he nearly scuffed their fuselage. "Let's show this overgrown rain cloud who's boss!"

Cackling in excitement, Skywarp unleashed a hail of bullets as the F-22s began their assault, peppering the raging elemental's chin and drawing an earsplitting wail from its ghastly maw. It thrashed about with savage blasts of thunderbolts and ferocious gales of wind, knocking them around— and very nearly sending several of 'em hurtling towards the choppy waters below.

Without hesitation, Skywarp plunged towards the cloud-creature's face like a living cannonball, his squadron hot on his tailfins. The elemental pawed at him, but the seeker managed to dodge its grasp by mere inches— juking left and right as the others followed his lead, barely avoiding its electricity-laced fingers. Then—

TSCHE-CHU-CHU-CHU-TSCHE!

The rattling grind and crunch of transformation rang out as Skywarp shifted from his sleek jet form to that of his root mode. His heel-thrusters ignited with an imposing roar, propelling him into view of the looming colossus of vapor.

Ruby red optics bored deep into an overcast, drizzly eye that was larger than he was tall. With a vicious sneer, Warp formed an 'L' shape with his index digit and thumb, blowing an explosive raspberry directly into its face.

Skywarp's fuel pump leapt as the storm elemental's fist clenched like a bear trap, snaring him inside its terrible grip. A violet flash burst forth and he was gone in an instant, spirited away to safety.

The destruction of his squadron, however, could not be so easily undone.

In a single, unrelenting stroke, they were ripped from the sky like a shower of paper cranes— screaming the whole way down.

960 words out of 2,500.
2,500/2,500 Total.

 

[King Shark]

It was the worst kind of battle: the sort that was all or nothing. Battles where the upperhand was gained quickly...with battles like that, you knew where you stood. You pressed the attack and it was over fast, or you cut your losses for a retreat, and it was still over fast. Easy choices.

The Cybertronian he was now couldn’t stomach that sort of thing. Quick wins or quick losses - life was too important to squander. Every. Single. Life. They were all important.

This was a different sort of battle, still. It was an all or nothing vice grip where he’d risk it all in one big, flashy maneuver and success or failure was all in his hands.

Succeed, and he’d win spectacularly; everyone would celebrate him, and he’d have pulled off the impossible. A real Rudy situation, a holo-film about some portly guy pulling off a football victory in the eleventh hour. Or something. It wasn’t one of his favorites.

Fail, and they’d be swallowed up by a creature of the elements, never to be seen again, written off as casualties of war. A real Requiem for a Dream situation where bad things happen to everybody and it’s absolutely terrible for all involved.

The latter was not an option. Skywarp and the fleshbags were depending on him.

He swam through the air, a stream of blue and white, climbing ever higher until he hit the apex of his ascent. Then, he transformed. The smooth model of aerodynamics that he was began to pull apart, turning, shifting, and sliding before it reassembled into his root form. Thrusters disengaged, he began to fall - slowly at first, and then faster and faster. He rolled forward so that his pedes scraped the sky and his helm pointed directly downwards to the chaos below, where a squadron of F-22s led by his wing-brother approached the face of elemental fury.

The closer they drew, the angrier it looked. It tipped its face towards them when they dipped down lower. Several things then happened quickly.

The creature’s pivot revealed the side of what could conceivably be its head, exposing a divot of darker cloud-flesh around where its audials, or ears, or whatever this thing had that might serve thusly would be. Thundercracker engaged his thrusters at full speed, extended a servo tipped with a closed fist towards his mark, and then sunk into the cloud creature’s ear like the whisper of a close confidant.

He plunged into a viscous sort of material, like sinking into a dollop of Jello, where his olfactory sensor was bombarded by the smell of rainwater and something foul, like refuse. He marveled at how much the substance broke his momentum - he hadn’t been stilled, but he’d been slowed considerably by what must’ve been this thing’s eardrum. It was…fascinating.

Then he punched through.

On the other side, everything went white.

“I’m…inside of it,” he remarked breathily, looking around. “Did that stuff disable my optics? Or is that just what it’s like here?”

His voice carried strangely, and reverberated like a yawn in an echo chamber. The entire thing felt surreal. And strangely enough…the sensation was calming. The entire din of battle he’d been assaulted with outside had been swallowed up by the chasm of white within which he found himself. It was like a padded room - serene, peaceful, and far removed from the wanton death and destruction of the world beyond.

He disabled his optics and floated there, thrusters off, just letting the gentle current of this place carry him away like a lazy river.

He thought of Buster. They were together in a field: his dog, so small, and he, so large. He laughed from deep within his chassis, and in that moment, he wasn’t Thundercracker, he was Tyler C. Racker, the holo-avatar, the man right out of his screen-play. But wasn’t that who he really was anyway? Or maybe it was just who he could’ve been, if things had been different. Things in this vision had begun to blur, and it didn’t feel like he was just imagining anymore.

It felt like he was really there, as if he was Tyler, and he reached out to touch Buster and felt between her ears. Buster’s tongue lolled happily, and she rolled over for Tyler to pet her belly. Laughing, Tyler stooped and ran a hand along the soft underside of his best little furry friend. And things were good!

Until they weren’t.

The field vanished, the sun winked out, and Buster’s dark eyes dissipated into nothing. The entire world vanished around him, and he was floating, not in a dreamy white cloudscape, but in a black canvas of wrath slashed with gold streaks.

He swam up, panicked, and was suddenly aware that he was in the depths of an ocean. The feeling of coarse salt scraping him clean was soothing, at first, until he realized that bits of his finish were flaking off; the paint was being peeled from his frame, shimmering off into the depths behind him as he swam. Survival instincts kicked in, and he engaged his thrusters.

He burst upward, upward, rising, but nothing seemed to be changing. He was surrounded by sea, and black, with only the occasional lash of a lightning bolt around him to illuminate the depths.

I’m trapped.

He realized it with a dim horror, as if this had happened to someone else and he was watching. It was setting in, but slowly, and his fuel ran cold.

Whether or not this is a vision, or I’m deep in this thing, I’m trapped.

His thrusters disengaged, and he floated gently to a standstill, looking around. His optics would flick to a strike of lightning, then to the next, and he used those things to retain orientation.

Then the soldier in him took over. He’d grown a little soft-sparked over the years - he could admit that, couldn’t he? But maybe he’d always been that way, and the time away from the Decepticons had simply brought him closer to the Cybertronian he really was. Just a guy who was a little soft-sparked, liked a good movie, enjoyed dabbling in a screen-play here and there, and spent a lot of time with his dog. …there was still the soldier in there, however, ready to take over when things got really tough.

That was reassuring. Because the soldier in him, rising to the surface, remembered the plan.

“Right. I just have to SONIC BOOM the FRAG out of this thing. I do that, and this all goes away. Skywarp’s got the pilots, he’ll lead them to safety, protect them, and I’ll SONIC BOOM this thing, it blows the chassis off this cloud monster, and everybody goes home happy. And safe. …except the cloud thing.”

He rubbed his servos together and looked around.

“Right. Let’s do it.”

His servos shot out, a straight line of mechanical arms. He paused, focused the Energon from his core, channeled it into each servo, then flung his giant robotic mitts at one another. They clapped together, and the world around him rippled, followed by the supersonic wave of SONIC BOOM. It radiated out of him in a pulse.

Things faltered, then gave way.

He heard a howl of agony, felt a lurch, and realized that the creature was expelling him.

Elsewhere, the cloud-strosity flung a reactive strike through the air at a squadron of jets.

2596 words out of 2500. I went over a little

 

[Karl Jak]

Updates:

Pick one of you to write an ending where you overcome the elemental. You may do so as you see fit but afterwards, this region will be pacified.

Both of you get +2 Points
Both of you get the equivalent of a Minor Injury

 

[Arthur Morgan]

It was like a switch had been flipped. One second, the cyclone was howling and screeching like an angry beast; in the next, it had softened to naught but a distant susurrus as the storm elemental quaked and listed under the might of TC's sonic boom. Furious lightning dulled down to a low rumble— gradually morphing from its impassioned wailing into something that resembled nothing more than a muted, soft whispering.

Slowly, the oppressive blanket of gray clouds peeled away like a curtain, revealing a gentle canvas of azure blue beneath.

In the aftermath of the battle, Thundercracker's helm swiveled wildly about, scanning the skies for Skywarp. A familiar purple shimmer glinted in the late afternoon sunlight and he rocketed over to it, overcome with a danger-fueled high and his circuitry crackling with residual energy.

Skywarp was ready to meet him halfway, afterburners hurling him through the sky with casual grace, even though one of his wings appeared to be lightly smoking from a particularly nasty lightning strike. Grinning like the proverbial cat whilst flitting about much like the canary, he barreled through the air, spinning and somersaulting like a wild corkscrew, laughter spilling from his vocalizer like a gushing fountain.

"Did you see that?! That was brilliant! And you—" he hooted, clasping servos with his fellow 'Con in true brotherly fashion. "You really knocked it outta this world, TC! Literally blew that slagger's mind!"

“I know!” exclaimed TC, face-plates stretching from the enormity of his grin. The storm elemental had horribly scraped his finish with its saltwater-tainted innards, so the expression twisted into a sort of grimace somewhere in its formation. “It was a bit dicey there for a moment; I almost thought your plan wouldn't pan out, but look at us now!”

They interlocked their legs, executing a breathtaking spin, then rocketed apart with fiery jets from the thruster-heels of their pedes, delirious with joy.

"Just look at us!" Thundercracker repeated, his arms stretched to the skies in proud jubilation. "We did it, we really—"

He paused. Cycling his optics with a confused whirr, he whipped his helm from left to right, the smile fading from his face-plates.

"Did... it..."

But Skywarp was much too caught up in himself to notice. He swished past TC, his wings angled arrogantly, servos planted firmly on his hips. "I told you it'd work! Really, you need to have more faith in me, TC— everyone knows I know what I'm doing—" he drawled, not once slowing his swagger.

"Warp," TC said urgently, cutting him off. He reached out to grasp him by one shoulder strut, yanking him back into his orbit. "Warp, look at me.”

Optics glittering, smugness oozing from every facet of his being, Skywarp did. "What?"

TC stared hard, shaking him by the shoulders. "Warp. Focus. Where are the guys?"

The violet seeker's grin faltered, one optical ridge lifting in confusion.

"Who?"

"You know, the guys," insisted TC, the words tripping off his glossa. "And the gals, and all of 'em. I'm talking about the pilots, Warp. Where are the pilots?!"

All traces of mirth evaporated from Skywarp's expression, replaced by a flash of panicked realization. He swiveled his neck to glance behind himself— dropping his wings a bit to peek over their bulk —and gaped down at the roiling sea below, then quickly snapped his helm back up.

His vocalizer reset with a short, grinding click.

With a sudden jolt, he tore himself from Thundercracker's iron grip, rocketing away with a fiery roar of his thrusters. He careened around in the air, assuming an imposing stance with arms crossed defiantly over his cockpit.

"Okay, so, first of all," he began lightly, trying for levity, though the quip came out sounding oddly flat. "You were, er... serious about that?"

Thundercracker felt his wings droop in despair, his optics growing ever wider as the magnitude of the situation dawned upon him. His servos shot to his face-plates, clawing at them, sucking in rapid intakes as his hysteria reached new and previously unexplored heights.

"Warp," stated TC, tone careful, watching his companion warily. "Please, please, please tell me you didn't frag this up. Please. For once in your life, tell me this isn't yet another mess you've made."

A deathly silence descended over the pair, only broken by the faint crackling of Skywarp's thrusters. His deep crimson optics dimmed, their ruby glimmer replaced by only the faintest sly twinkle— a much colder, harder glint shining from them now as he met Thundercracker's gaze.

"Oh, Primus," Thundercracker lamented, vocalizer warbling in distress. "No. No. You can't be serious. You have to be joking. You're joking, right?" His helm swung around, scouring the fluffy white clouds around them for any signs of hope. "You told them to go hide or something just to freak me out, didn't you? I mean, you wouldn't lie to me and let them get hurt. You're my brother, you couldn't lie to me—"

Lip-plates curling back in blatant disgust, Skywarp cut him off.

"I don't even know what you expect me to say!" he snapped with a voice like growling thunder, his sharpened dentae bared in a menacing snarl. The digits lining his servos hooked into wicked claws, clenching in swiftly rising anger. "They just weren't fast enough, alright? They couldn't get outta the way. And why are you getting so worked up about it? It's not like they meant anything to you!"

The blue seeker hung in the sky across from him, motionless, one servo clapped over his mouth, trying to stifle the gorge that threatened to erupt from his fuel tanks. It was an odd expression to see, especially when one considered the massive machine guns mounted upon each of his arms.

"Oh." Skywarp bristled, head canting slowly to the side— not unlike a bird of prey examining a potential food source. A new shade of calculation entered his gaze, subtle as a knife. "They did mean something to you."

Thundercracker bristled right back, the plates of his armor clanking together as his frame shivered with tense energy. His wings flared wide, like an indignant turkey trying to scare off a challenger.

"Of course they did!" he nearly shorted out his vocalizer with the volume of his yell, gesticulating wildly. "I can't believe you would be so careless, especially after I asked you to take care of them! I only agreed to your plan because you promised, Skywarp."

Grinding his dentae together in frustration, Skywarp shouted right back at him, wings stiff and jutting aggressively from his shoulders. "And my plan worked! It was necessary. Sacrifices gotta be made sometimes, you know that— and besides, those insects knew what they were signing up for, now didn't they? They're soldiers!"

Betrayal glowed in TC's optics, a morose frown only reinforcing the chill of his icy, faraway stare.

"You were supposed to protect them, Warp," he said quietly, offlining his optics as he shook his helm. "You know we're both better than any squishy fliers out there. Bigger. Stronger! They trusted you to protect them. I trusted you. How could you be so— so reckless!"

"Oh, please." Skywarp rolled his optics, the contemptuous sneer not leaving his face. "I really hope you're not gonna go this ballistic when that dumb dog of yours dies, because they don't even live that—"

CLANG!

Skywarp froze, his optics blown wide with shock, pupils contracted to only the narrowest of glinting beads at their centers. He slowly lowered his helm, studying the dark fist that had come hurtling towards his face-plates as if it were a fascinating scientific experiment. His own curled digits clamped around it tightly, stopping it just short of crashing into his nasal ridge.

A tortured creak of metal squeaked out as his grip tightened around the other seeker's servo.

"You wanna know what I think?" he growled softly, cold menace lacing his tone. "I think you've lost sight of who we are, what we are, and what we're meant to do. We're not heroes out of some holo-film, here to save these fleshbags like they matter. They don't mean anything; they're nothing more than set pieces! They're not important. Get with the slaggin' program, TC, because anything less will get you killed."

The air hung heavy with tension, Thundercracker's dentae gnashing audibly and the plates of his armor shuddering with ill-contained rage. Finally, he jerked his servo away from Skywarp with a furious swish of displaced air, glaring in mutinous silence.

Watching him warily for any further signs of attack, Warp couldn't help but scoff— a short, scornful sound. "Are you seriously gonna let something as small as this drive a wedge between us? We've worked together for years, TC. We go way back! I know you. You're like a brother to me. Just let it go. We can forget this ever happened!"

"No, Skywarp," said Thundercracker, words echoing with finality. "I'm not going to just 'let it go.'" He mimed air quotes around the words, scowl deepening. "I can't. This is... it's just... it's too much."

Uncomprehending, Skywarp merely stared at him. His wings hung sullenly on his back, their ends pointing towards the ground like a compass-needle pointing south.

"What do you mean?" he stammered out, stunned, the words tripping within his vocalizer. His crimson optics flashed brightly in alarm. "Are you... divorcing me?"

TC looked away. His face-plates quivered, gripped in the throes of some invisible torment.

"You ARE!" Skywarp gasped, optics blazing with incredulity, and jabbed a talon at him accusingly. "You're totally divorcing me! Divorcing me like in TWISTER! TC!"

"I'm sorry, Warp," Thundercracker ex-vented a sigh, glancing at him in bleak acceptance. "It's not you, it's me. I've changed, and you're just... the same as you've always been. It's not gonna work out between us. Not anymore."

He averted his gaze, unable to bear the sight of his wing-brother any longer. His wings quivered, a roar of combustion filling the air as his thruster-heels ignited, prepared to streak off into the distant horizon.

What he was certainly not expecting was for Skywarp to lunge forward at the last second, wrapping his arms solidly around his legs in a vice-grip and preventing his departure.

"NO!" he wailed, burying his face-plates dangerously close to where a pulse of super-heated fuel could easily melt some very delicate components to slag. "Don't go, TC! I'm sorry. I'll— I'll do better! Yeah, that's right! I'll try extra hard to protect the fleshbags next time."

Thundercracker scowled, jerking one leg to try and dislodge his unwanted carry-on, but unfortunately Skywarp had latched on with about as much pluck as an undernourished cyber-tick. "Let me go, Warp."

"No!" cried Skywarp, ever petulant. "Not until you agree to stay!"

Turning his optics towards the sky, gaze beseeching, TC sighed. "You fragged up, Warp, and you can't fix it. There's nothing you can say that'll make this okay, so why don't you act your age and just let me—"

A static-laced crackle cut across his words, soundly interrupting him. Both mechs went perfectly still, staring into the ether with wide, rounded optics and motionless limbs.

”Command 2 to Skywarp and Thundercracker, requesting check-in. We've managed to recover your squadron. No casualties to report, thank Christ for ejector seats. ...Everything alright up there?"

Skywarp's optics locked with Thundercracker's. Slowly, a slag-eating grin crept across the former's face-plates as Thundercracker gawped, his optics cycling wide in shock.

"You filthy retrorat," Thundercracker breathed. "Don't you ever call Buster dumb again."

Warp’s grin only widened. "Deal."