080617 - Quiet, pt 12

[koilungfish]

5/5/08 - Commission work
6/5/08 - Commission work
7/5/08 - 9/5/08 - Ill
10/5/08 - 1096 words on Suckle
11/5/08 - 1114 words on Suckle
12/5/08 - 31/5/08 - Ill
1/6/08 - 1138 words on Glass Diamond
2/6/08 - Fail
3/6/08 - 2206 words on untitled BW fic
4/6/08 - Ill
5/6/08 - Day Off
6/6/08 - Ill
7/6/08 - 1099 words on untitled BW fic
8/6/08 - Ill
9/6/08 - 955 words on untitled BW fic, Glass Diamond
10/6/08 - Ill
11/6/08 - Ill
12/6/08 - 550 words on Glass Diamond
13/6/08 - 836 words on Stormhangar
14/6/08 - Ill
15/6/08 - 538 words on Lunatic Cabaret
16/6/08 - Ill


Quiet, pt 12

         Gibber, quiet and frantic, clinging to the pipes as scrabbles overhead, other side of the door, mouth working constantly, froth and bubble. Rotors twitch, whick from side to side, side to side, side to side, constrained by back of shoulders and fenestron and room too small too dark too close too stink-of-dead low ceiling. Gibber at the doors closing out the death, closing out the grey, closing it all out. Gibber, froth and twitch ...
         Flickery-fingered, back away as a crack opens in the sky, a freaky bright line and a flash of blue -
         blue optic bad bad bad shoot shoot
         "Bang!" and lowered pointed finger. Laugh? Already did. Am. Still doing it.
         Flurry-scutter above, skitters back all the moving things. Power of pointed finger. Mutter the voices, hear them, hear them squeak and mumble -
          the bad words the bad language the bad people bad bad bad
         Black head, pointed, blue optics, peeking down. "Bang!" doesn't work. Point the finger again. Point it! Point it more! "Bang!" Doesn't listen. Stares.
         "Dude, you all right?"
         Stupid, stupid, stupid question.
         "Of course I'm not all right you stupid Autobot, I'm trapped on this stupid planet and everybody is dead!" Oops. Screamed. Point the finger again, just in case. "Bang?"
         "Nope." Autobot somersaults down the hatch, lands before me, all little and car-ish and covered in ashes. Precooked. Badly. Serve to unwanted commanders. "Wanna let me in on the joke, big fellow?"
         "No joke," but can't stop laughing. Don't get it, but can't stop laughing. Spraying froth. Gibber, gibber, turn around, hop! Keep dancing. Death can't dance. Autobot ... "Dance!"
         Impromptu funk! Autobot can dance!
         Relax. It's okay. Dancing Autobots never hurt anybody. Calm now. Wipe the foam off. Heave a sigh. Sag the rotors.
         "That funky enough for you, man?" says the dirty Autobot car. Holds out a hand. Shake it, carefully, don't want to get dirty. "Name's Jazz. How're they swinging?"
         "Side to side, side to side," nod and smile, nod and smile, "as they usually do. My name is Gibber. You shot my partner."
         "Prepare to die?" Jazz asks, smily, hands up.
         "Everyone already did," say now, shrug. Dead's dead. "From the bottom to the top, from the high to the low, from the little to the big. Deaddity dead." Look up! More blue optics. More Autobots. Autobots can dance. It's okay. Swing the rotors, side to side. "Hello! Why are you here?"
         "Saw your ship go down, came to check for survivors," says Jazz. "We're your friendly neighbourhood watch."
         "Watched? Watched?" Twitch. Spasm. Froth in the fuel. Champ the mouth! "Watched the ship go down, watched the crazy happen, watched the death come? Watched the grey come? Watched all that? Just watched?"
         "Hey, hey, hey," says Jazz, waving hands, stepping back, wiggly little worm-car. "We only just got here. We don't know what's going on. How 'bout you?"
         "Know the death. Know all gone. Know the crazy," and not much more. Froth in the fuel - hard to think. Can't sleep. Can't stop dancing. Dance! Waggle rotors! Stay alive! "Some gone crazy," hoppity step, "some gone grey," steppity hop, "some gone gone."
         "Chill, chill, it's okay," says Jazz, lowering hands, chilly down sign. Relax? Hop once and stop. "Look, we're gonna go down to the bridge, check the logs, find out what happened, okay?"
         "Down is safer," mostly, "up isn't safer," probably. "Can't get any further. Got in here. Got stuck."
         "How long you been in here?" says Jazz, no more hand-wavey.
         "Since I came back," say truth, why not?" "Shot at you, in the trees. Grass. Whichever. Lost my partner. Came back. All the grey. Tried to hide! Tried to get down, get deeper. Got stuck."
         "What about your other partner?" says other blue optics, red and blue, slinky voice. Sleek. Lickable! Licky licky shiny pretty car, mmmmmmm.
         "Counterblast?" Missed him. Wonder where? "Was behind me. Door shut. Got stuck. Don't know where he went." Hop skippity waggle! Just to be sure. "Grey?"
         "He ain't this guy hanging here then?" Jazz asks.
         "No, no, that's commander Broadsword," say true, who cares? "Brought the crazy inside. Crazy all over the place. We killed him. Deserved it. Stupid. Brought the crazy inside. Then the grey came." Shudder. Remember. Grey. All the grey.
         Muttered words between Autobots, bad words, words that don't make sense.
         "Talk Decepticon!" Rattle rotors. "Know what you're thinking! Think I'm crazy! Always think I'm crazy! Stupid Autobots! I don't have the crazy! I'm alive!" Fold arms, pose, waggle rotors because it feels good. "Stupid Autobots don't realise I was always like this."
         "Helicopters!" says blue optics, blue head, white face, dirty all over. Didn't spot him before. Sneaky sneaky!
         "And proud of it!" Improved-model folded arms. Spin fenestron. Hierarchy in place. "I am an eminent model of superiority over land, sea and air forces!" Pause to pose. Sneaky peek. Autobots stare. Idiots. "Open the interlock hatchway, then! Bridge is down there, not here!"

Comments

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

Helicopters are pretty crazy to start with, never mind one who's been stuck in a section change airlock for about twelve hours.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_silverfox/]

Oh my, that was an unexpected change of style, but quite amusing. Can't wait to see what they do with him.

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

I needed a new narrator. Things needed a poke with the freshness stick. I suspect they will keep him at arm's length; Gibber's pretty big and pretty crazy.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_silverfox/]

For some reason I like him anyway. I wonder whether arm's length is a safe distance, though.

[kleeng.livejournal.com]

Well that was unexpected, nice, :D
I like to be kept on my toe's, and I like off kilter characters, keeps things interesting.

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

It's hard to expect someone like Gibber, especially when he just turns up in an airlock. Thanks.

Re: hi there?

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

Well, I haven't been too well health-wise for the last five years, but why do you ask?

Re: hi there?

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

I would believe that, and thanks :) I haven't been posting as much partly because of my health problems, yes - although the bad days aren't as bad as they were, it seems like they're getting more frequent for some reason - but mostly because I'm editing stories in progress rather than writing the one-shots I post here. If you look at the little list posted at the start of each entry you can see what I'm working on and so on. I'm really rather keen to finish the revised version of Stormhangar before the end of the year, so I'm putting as much effort as I can into that.

That, and for the past two weeks, I've had Wayward visiting, so it's my summer holiday for as long as she's here :D

Re: hi there?

[koilungfish.livejournal.com]

Thanks. It's all chuntering alone okay for now.