She drives a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle around town, convertible rooftop folded when the weather permits. She is never seen without her phone which, despite her tendency to be ahead of the trend, has a sliding screen and a keyboard instead of the more common flat touch screens. She has a pilot’s license, and is known around school for taking people on the coolest second dates in her family’s floatplane.
He rides a bright red Vespa everywhere, even when walking would be more convenient. The tiny netbook he uses for school fits in the altered front pockets of the hoodies he wears at all hours of the day, everyday. After school he helps out with his parents’ food-truck, he never does any of the cooking thankfully, but culinary skills aren’t necessary to dispense ice cream.
These facts are well known. They don’t seem relevant to each other, or even remarkable at all. She’s never outrightly snubbed him, but it’s clear that they run in entirely different cliques. No one at school can recall them ever speaking to each other.
But just because it can’t be remembered, doesn’t mean it’s never happened.
They met at night. Because all covert meetings ought to happen at night. But really, it was because he wasn’t free to meet until after the dinner shift, when the food truck was the busiest. And also it was only by the cover of darkness that all eight of them could properly meet up.
/How were the customers today?/ Dragonfly asked, sitting on the dock part of her amphibious garage. Her green wings were folded tight against her back to create room for the others.
/Not too terrible, though there was this one pile of scraps that nearly vandalized my paint job/ Pot groused, curled up awkwardly but not uncomfortably. Being the largest of the group, she was granted the most space out of necessity but didn’t want to be a total hog.
“You poor dear,” Ness crooned, rubbing a hand along the bright mural on Pot’s leg panels. Tick, wrapped around Ness in his headset mode, helpfully translated the other’s series of whistles and clicks into something humans could understand.
Knife, shaped more like a helmet, did the same for Jack. “Well, Rabbit nearly blew his cover in order to defend her honor. Also, he stole the jerk’s wallet,”
Machinery couldn’t blush, but Rabbit’s casing almost seemed to turn an even brighter red.
/Getting identification to press charges?/ Parasite said dryly. He was the only one to stay in his day-time form. Partially because he had no reason to switch into his other more humanoid shape, nor any other forms to change into. The other reason was that it was easier for the humans to join the meeting if they could sit on upholstered car seats. With the roof down, it really wasn’t any different from them sitting on one of the others’ laps or shoulder, just more comfortable.
/He didn’t get caught/ Knife defended, having been as present during the event as the rest of Jack’s troika due to having been in his sweater pocket.
“And that’s all that matters,” Jack agreed.
“We should all be more careful, though. We don’t exactly want to advertise to the world about the existence of living robots,” Ness cautioned. It may have been selfish, but she wasn’t keen on sharing her Transformers with anyone except Jack.
~
A/N: … Yes? I actually haven’t seen the Michael Bay movies so I dunno. I just wanted to use the general idea of Transformers, not any particular mythos. So Parasite, Tick, and Dragonfly are Ness’ car, phone, and floatplane respectively. Rabbit, Knife, and Pot are Jack’s vespa, netbook, and food-truck. All of Jack’s are sort of puns with his name–Jackrabbit, Jackknife, Jackpot. He’s a dork. Ness’ is mostly because my sister drives a powder blue Volkswagen beetle and I was just like… what if this adorable car was actually like an alien robot that could take down larger robots by attaching to them and stealing their energy.
JackSGreyson Says 