Brainstorming

I was just sitting at home watching movies when I started brainstorming.

I was watching Terminator Salvation and started thinking of transformers.  I'm just leaving what I came up with here. That's all

Decepticon
Name: Madness

Decepticon
Name: Tragedy

Decepticon

Name: Spikestrip

The present (Transformers Fan-fiction)

Cybertron, how long has it been since I last sped along your highways? Since I last had a good drink at Sprockets? nowadays its damn near impossible to keep our hands on energon at all.  At least I know we're not suffering alone.  All the Autobots on this planet are having a hard time.  Things here are circuit boards more complicated than necessary, us being here has done nothing but add fuel to the fire.

These freeways are less than sub-par, not that I can complain.  At least I can move about as I wish.  Stretch has to stay in that airplane boneyard where nobody can find him.  Having a form he can't hide with on this planet anymore is killing him.  All me and Sunder can do is keep him company.  Lucky for me the freeways out here are deserted most of the time, allowing me to drive as I want, or a more appropriate statement, 'need'

Flashing lights? Authorities, pesky earth cops.  He won't stand a chance of keeping up with me, I've mastered these roads.

{Highspool, can you hear me?} Sunder said by transmission.

"What is it Sundre?" I was less than happy to be interrupted by her.

{Atmospheric radiation has been detected in our region, keep your optics open for suspicious activity} its about time things got more active around here, its been months since we last saw Atocine.  I still owe him a good Lagann impact to the chest, the bastard came close to ripping my head off.  I'll make sure to rip his optics out when I'm through.

This cop is keeping up with me, I should've lost him by now.

"Sure, I'll keep watch of the freeway for any signs of an attack" It was more sarcastic than necessary.

{You don't have to be an ass, Sundre out} she worked hard to keep things running smooth, and all I do is bash her with my sharkticon shit.  I shouldn't be so hard on her.

That cop is right on top of me now, who is this guy? This is no earth cop, they've never acted like this before. The body of the car transformed.  Weapons exposed themselves, the shape of the car became more sinister.  A new Decepticon has made itself present.

Reapers Revolt

"Which hand is your dominant hand?" He asked me. "My right" I said, holding it out to him.  He took my left hand and placed a revolver in it.

"From here on out, we'll be training you to fire from your left hand.  Your dominant hand will be busy with other things during combat so we'll optimize your off hand by training you to shoot with it" I did as he said but my thoughts were less on target practice and more on my -or should I say, our current situation.  I thought about Kaitlyn and how she must feel right now, still unable to talk.  Still very much unhappy to be with me.  About a month ago we lost contact with Scott and Mercedes, its doubtful they're together at this point.  And I've had my hands full just trying to keep K with me, though I'm sure she knows things would be worse for her if she didn't stay with me.  Alone and unable to talk.  Though being with me she's still alone, regardless of how I may treat her.

"Jane, you need to learn to aim while using just your left arm, stretch it out and take down the targets" I took aim, and dropped the targets with little effort.

"I used to be a Ranger, my marksmanship is very good" I said, reloading the weapon.

"That might be the case, but you're about a tenth of what you used to be.  Strength, dexterity, agility are all reduced, so you must learn the way your body works at this point.  Try taking down the targets while they're moving" He flipped a switch and the targets moved around at astonishing speed.

"Red target" He said, I spotted the target and fired.  My first few shots missed but I managed to put the last two through it, not pretty hits but hits nonetheless.

"Reload and fire at the green and blue targets" He said.  I opened the cylinder and dumped the empty shells.  I had to put each individual round in, which cut into my speed.

"Faster, if those were the Holy Order you'd be dead by now!" The pressure was building.  I managed to finish and took down the targets with more sloppy hits.  He turned me around and went to slug me in the cheek.  I managed to overtake him, but he came around with a gut shot.  It had been awhile since I'd felt pain like that, I was winded.

"If this was combat you and your useless friend there would be dead, those around you would likely follow suit too due to your shitty abilities.  You need to learn that you're not that powerful anymore.  The opposite in fact.  We're more vulnerable to the Holy Order now than ever before, and look at us.  We're dealing more damage now than before" I struggled to breath, the pain was still overwhelming to me.  I looked at K, she wasn't interested in what was happening.  She just sat there, lost in thought.

"This revolver is screwing me up, I can't use it"

"Flexibility in combat is necessary, that revolver may be all you have left, if you can't use it your done for" He kicked the gun out of my hand and hiked it up to his own.  He opened the cylinder and slid in six rounds before I could blink.

"Your her bodyguard, act like it!" he pulled the trigger.

<->

I woke in a cold sweat, my sight darted around the room.  A room occupied by nothing but dark mahogany dressers and white light shining through open curtains.  It was morning, and I was safe.  Well, safer than most. I removed the sheets, my clothes were drenched in sweat.  I hopped in the shower.  As I tied my hair back into its regular ponytail I noticed a particular scent in the air.  Someone was cooking what smelled like breakfast.  I couldn't be K, she wouldn't be caught dead cooking, unless 'He' asked her to.  Pestilence would rather starve than cook so she was ruled out too.  Someone was in the house.

I thew a robe on and tightened it down, grabbed my revolver off the bed and made way to the kitchen with extreme caution.  The sound of shuffling cookery and a stronger smell of real food made my stomach creak in hunger.

"If you plug me full of lead you wont get any breakfast" a smooth voice called, I rounded the corner with my gun at the ready, my aim deflected by a kitchen knife.

"Looks like someone's not hungry" Famine said as he flipped a pancake.

"Famine! what are you doing here?" I said.

"I've been ordered to deliver a message to the three of you" Light footsteps came from the upstairs hallway.

"Hey, Blueberry, are you cooking something?" I hated that nickname.  Pestilence came downstairs wiping the sleep from her eyes.  Pest has been with us for about a month now making her way back to Death just as we've been.

"Huh? Famine is that you?" she said, somewhat un-surprised.

"Yes, now would you like some eggs and pancakes?" he gave his sinister grin while holding up a fresh batch of eggs.  Pestilence leaped to the table, almost drooling.

"Why don't you go wake up the Princess Jane, she'll want to be here" Kaitlyn was still in bed, not like she had much reason to get out every morning.  She hadn't seen Death in over a year, her reason for living was so far away.

"And put some clothes on while your at it" Famine said.  I had forgotten I was pretty much naked except for my robe.  I threw on a dress shirt and some shorts from the closet before going to K's room.

"K? you awake yet?" I heard faint coughing, I opened her door and knew she was having a coughing fit like she always did if she said anything.  I saw her hit the bathroom floor, some blood met the tile where she lie.

"K! you alright?" It was clear she wasn't, but what else could I say? I went to help her up and she shoved me away.  She was in control of her fit now, she wiped her face and looked at me as if to say "what do you want?"

"You need to come downstairs, Famine is here" her eyes lit up, she rushed past me, and I followed.  Famine had the table all set with everything a breakfast could ever include.  Eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes in a few varieties.  Milk, OJ and toast.

"Enjoy, I'm sure the three of you haven't had something this good in a while" Famine said.  The three of us, while curious as to why he was here were more interested in eating at the moment.  K though, wanted to hear the news.  Famine insisted she eat some first, she groaned, and scooped some eggs to her plate.

The vague status update

We've seen it before, the one status that sounds a little like this.

"I'm so frustrated right now"

"Well that could've gone better"

"Doctor said it could be bad"

These are just a few (poor) examples that are seen across all forms of social media.  Facebook and twitter are probably the places where they show up the most (for me at least)

But I have a question.

"Why?"

Why post such a vague comment that can be so misconstrued?

Is it for sympathy? would that even be a valid use for posting a vague status update? In my opinion thats what I believe to be a major reason.  think about it, something has happened in your life and you need someone to give you support, you're not in a particular position to 'have a shoulder to cry on' so you post a vague status to use as bait, to sucker people into a position of wanting to help and support you.  We've seen these comments before.

"Is everything ok? just want you to know I'm thinking of you"

"I'm sorry, things will get better"

The thing I find unusual about this is that, on these social media sites.  The only people who see these updates are people you can trust right? These people are your friends, here to help you through pretty much anything right? So why post something to your friends thats vague and can be interpreted in many different ways?

By posting a vague status update you are receiving a false sense of sympathy, you didn't earn it through being honest, you said something that makes your life sound crappy.  Don't do this for your sake and for the sake of the people you care about, its rude and inappropriate.  If your posting about something that shouldn't be posted, then don't.  If it doesn't need to be seen by certain people then refrain from posting.

Personal matters belong with the people involved.  Unless you intend to be clear about whats going on.

"I just got fired, it was kinda my fault though"

"I broke up with my girlfriend, we just weren't that compatible"

These are examples of expressing how you feel while being clear at the same time.

Please, for the sake of your friendships/relationships stop with the vague comments, they're empty feelings.

Her hair...

Steam/Smoke

I thought this was supposed to be a happy ending, the siblings me and this Huntress have protected from werewolves, a dragon made of stoves, pans, clockwork and steam their witch of a stepmother created.  A witch of the most lethal intent.
Have I gone and shown how much of a fool I am? The youngest son of a blacksmith who can’t even help these children when they need me the most.  We reached Scarborough, the city that moves across the land, where their grandmother lives.  Just to have our journey end with their father and a king in our midst.
“Son, daughter.  Please come back home with me, your stepmother and I were worried sick” The father plead.  The siblings hid behind me and the Huntress.  Her black smoke rifle steady in her hands but not in a position to make issue.  I looked at the son, the trials we had overcome, his sister right beside him the whole way.  Me and the Huntress experiencing an adventure of strength and determination.  We became so close we could be considered a family by passerby.  The look in the son’s eyes was genuine, he would never go back.
“It would seem they’re pretty determined to leave you behind, they wish to live with their grandmother” the Huntress said causing the king to chuckle among us, his men confused.
“My children will not find their grandmother inside those walls, for she has proceeded to the next life some time ago” a carriage approached from behind the father and the king.  Out stepped a woman of genuine discomfort and unease, it was to my belief from the feeling I had and the trembling hands of the siblings, this was the stepmother they spoke of.  A witch capable of creating monsters that attack children.  A vile woman shelled in a beauty a fool would want.  The father seemed to be of good nature but a man of poor choice in love.  For if this is what he decides is a true love he is more blind than those who walk without sight.
I know not what I should do at this moment, my heart wants the siblings to have true happiness, but with their grandmother gone all our work falls on empty hope.  But a hand reaches to me.  The Huntress wishes for my attention.  The look in her eyes is all I need to know what our next option is.
“Then me and this huntress will take the children in, to care for and train”
“That’s absurd” the stepmother said “My king, of our many kings.  Please order your incompetent soldier to know his place” her slithering voice made the blood in my arms boil, my white steam rifle itching to meet her.  The king chuckled once more.
“It is clear these children are aware of an immediate threat within their own home, and wish to retreat.  My Soldier and this Huntress wish for the better of these children, which is in his right as a soldier of our country.  If he wishes this responsibility I will allow it” Everyone looked in surprise and silence to the kings words.  The father most surprised, his eyes must have been opened to a potential sight he was ignorant to.  Stepmother was upset in many degrees.
“My king, surely you see the predicament we face.  These children belong to my husband and me, not to these foolish heathens” Stepmother wished to cause these siblings harm by her hand, a witch through and through.  My heart filled with anger towards her, and the displeasure she had towards these children.
“If you wish to take your children back, than as king I demand a duel between the parents and the surrogates.  A duel to the death if necessary” I knew this king could be outrageous at times but this is a whole new level.  The father was no warrior, his knees buckled, the stepmother however had already started a spell, spirals of red magic swirling around her.  The Huntress moved the siblings out of danger and took spot in shadow to prepare her black smoke rifle.
Is this right? Is this still beneficial for the siblings? I look at the eldest brother, young but a heart so strong, nothing would break it.  He knew what had to be done as did his sister, she had a heart of radiant warmth capable of healing.  Their father would live and they knew it.  He would have to live with the choice he made.  I knew then, I had to take care of them. Me and the Huntress would.
It was decided, If I could, I will make the stepmother submit.  Allowing her to live so as to keep the siblings from seeing her death, I held confidence the Huntress felt the same way.  She had a lover who was turned into a werewolf whom she ended with her own hand during our journey.  Had she become a true love of mine? Time will tell.  In this moment we would fight to protect the siblings once again from their wicked stepmother.  Her magic a weapon against us.  My white steam rifle a weapon against her, along with Huntress’ black smoke rifle.  The two of us together will wrestle her into defeat.  We just want a chance for the siblings, our children, to live happily ever after.


Steam (POV change)
Smoke
All this work we have done.  All for nothing.  Fighting the true love of mine who had turned to the ways of the werewolf.  Ended by my own hand.  A dragon made from cookery and clocks defeated by the youngest son of a blacksmith, now a soldier beside me.  A bit of a fool, but a heart capable of moving mountains.  If it meant that our Siblings could live happily ever after he would do it too.
Their father, a foolish coward of a man.  Stands before us now, with a king in tow.  This king knew me well.  Being a former member of his elite guard I ventured off to become a Huntress and to make a new life with my true love.  Once he disappeared I had no choice but to go after him meeting the Soldier and the Siblings along the way.  They spoke of the city Scarborough, a moving city.  A place I had longed to see since I was a child.  Now that we were here their father had caught up with us.
“Son, daughter.  Please come back home with me, your stepmother and I were worried sick” He said through genuine fear for their condition.  They moved not an inch from us.
“It would seem they’re pretty determined to leave you behind, they wish to live with their grandmother” I said, stating the wish they had from the beginning.
“My children will not find their grandmother inside those walls, for she has proceeded to the next life some time ago” Grandmother is gone? And he never told them.  A true coward to the marrow in his bones.  A stagecoach appeared and a woman appeared.  The clothing gave her away, A witch, a powerful one at that.  I would enjoy defeating her.  My black smoke rifle was not ready to fire but that’ll change soon enough.  I touched the Soldier, gave him a look that said we could take care of the Siblings by ourselves.  I didn’t know how, but I knew we could do it, we’ve come this far, we can keep going.
“Then me and this huntress will take the children in, to care for and train” the Soldier said, with as much courage as he could muster.
“That’s absurd” the stepmother said “My king, of our many kings.  Please order your incompetent soldier to know his place” She was making my hands tremble in excitement I’ve never fought a witch before.
“It is clear these children are aware of an immediate threat within their own home, and wish to retreat.  My Soldier and this Huntress wish for the better of these children, which is in his right as a soldier of our country.  If he wishes this responsibility I will allow it” the king chuckled
“My king, surely you see the predicament we face.  These children belong to my husband and me, not to these foolish heathens” the Stepmother said, sneering at the king.
“If you wish to take your children back, than as king I demand a duel between the parents and the surrogates.  A duel to the death if necessary” it was time.  The father dropped to his knees as he should, the Stepmother started a spell.  I escorted the Siblings to a safe spot before hiding in the shadows.  I readied my black smoke rifle.  This is right, defeating the Stepmother will ensure the Siblings a happy life.  But the Soldier seems unsure of what to do with her, I’ll leave him to decide her fate.  So long as the children get to live happily ever after.

Tool (Death Incorporated)

That day? Yes I remember it, the day I realized why it is that I am a tool for Death to use.  A mere item for him to send off to do his work.  It was years ago, before I even met Death.  I was still living at home.  The ones I referred to as my parents were, as any other day, oblivious to my existence.  Research and progress in the ways of science were more important than my well being, but it was supposed to be that way, A necessary ignorance in order to allow them to train me, to make me who I am to become.

"thats not good enough" he would say. "you need to be more aggressive, don't give me an opening to make a counter" I was young, and not very strong.  Not that it mattered to him, everyday him and the other assistants to the house put me through training that would break your average soldier, and I was still in elementary.  I took up the sword, and lunged at him again, his form so elegant and pure it made me look like a rotten sack of shit.  That day was a bare knuckle day.  His fist drove into my cheek with the force of a hammer.

"get up! we're not done yet" all the time I had with him meant I had grown somewhat used to his pain, it was required for me to break the false sense of superiority I had, I had no superiority.  Never did, never will.  A tool like me has no need for such useless mindsets, he did well to extinguish the thought from my body and mind.  If it weren't for him and his team of assistants, the world as we know it today would be very different.

Whenever I was at school, nobody asked what happened to me, the way I looked it was like I had been thrown into a cement mixer filled with hammers.  Not even the teachers asked me about my injuries.  Makeup hid most of my failures from the world but not all of it.

People were miles away from me, even when they were inches away.  He did good to make them seem insignificant, yet.  So, desirable? I walked among them but not with them, like I was alienated from them but found them so fascinating I dare not intrude upon them.  Like I could very well spoil their humble lives.

"get up Mercedes, we are not finished, now come at me again!" My children's books were replaced with fighting manuals, time with 'friends' was time with firearms, vacations were replaced with sleepless treks through mountains and deserts across the world.  Dinner time was filled with mends to wounds I had been dealt.  There was one thing, however, that did not change.  In all my time with him, with them, one thing that stayed the way it was meant to be.

Dessert.

Whether it be a slice of the most delicious cake, a handful of the best cookies in the world, a wedge of the sweetest pie, dessert was one small thing in my life I did look forward to.  If I did good I was rewarded with the finest sweets they could make.  I guess, it was a form of motivation.  As I got older, the rewards got smaller, I started to work harder to get what was given.  Then the moment came that told me what I am.

"Your holding back, focus on me and strike me down!" I talked back to him.  I was upset, angry with him that he took my reward away bit my bit.  I lashed out at him in a fit of rage, and he came back at me with the most important thing he could have ever done for me.  He parried my pathetic strike, hit me with all of his strength.  So hard he broke some ribs and punctured a lung, but those were nothing compared to his finishing blow.

"Remember your place Mercedes, you are a tool.  The greatest tool to have ever been crafted in this universe. I have the privilege of making you that tool, even if I have to break you a few times to make it perfect!" with the sword he gave me, he drove it through my leg, causing irreparable damage.  That day, was the last day I walked on two legs.

The next day he came to me, standing behind what he said.  He handed me a cane, a heavy iron cane that has since disappeared.  I stared at that cane, feeling it.  Swung it around and took its overall measure.  It might as well have been a hammer.  Thats when I realized it.

I am a tool, nothing more than a tool used for the benefit of others, a support for much more than just my existence.  A column for all the world to weigh on and more.  I am not a person, I am a tool.  The greatest tool ever crafted.  I had been awakened, been reborn.

I had been shown my destiny.

I had been broken.