Black-Winged Dove

Test

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 01:06:08 GMT

This is solely for the purpose of doing layout css testing.

And then I saw a woman dancing who had "MISTRESS" written across her lower back in electrical tape, and that would have been perfectly acceptable, except that she'd left off the terminal S and it said "MISTRES."

I try not to be a grammar nazi, I have no leg to stand on there, but I do have the internal spellchecker, and this was the purest of pure torture. Even another rum and coke failed to blunt the agony. It's like a crooked painting. Once you have seen it, you cannot UNSEE it. The music changed. The S failed to appear. A tic started up under my right eye.

From ursulav's livejournal.

Megabyte

Sozin

Azulon

Iroh

Ozai

~~Lu Ten~~

Zuko

Azula

Surly Spirits of the Air

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 02:44:43 GMT

To the east, the sky gradually turned a pale grey. At the very edge of the world, a thin line of gold appeared.

Sitting high atop one particular tower of Autobot City, Jetstorm watches the sunrise. He almost seems to blend into the shadows of the tower, save for the bright points of optic-light.

One looking closely might notice that he seems a bit more battered than he ought.

Location: Jetstorm's Isoward Cell

Sun, 22 Apr 2007 05:01:42 GMT

There is a fullstasis board set up in Jetstorm's cell. He had gone and retrieved it from Skydive's quarters, the local Skydive, at his own Skydive's request.

Currently, he sits with his back to the rear of the cell with the fullstasis board in front of him. It is turned to the side, with the red pieces to Jetstorm's right and the purple ones to his left. He hovers high enough off the ground that the board sits below the sight of his heads.

"Move Dirge to the twelve, nine intersection," Skydive orders.

Jetstorm picks up one of the pieces with a purple base, cunningly crafted to look like a tiny version of the blue conehead, and sets it down at the cross-point of the twelfth row and ninth column on the board.

Then he settles back to think about his own move.

Exploring and Exploiting

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 03:13:17 GMT

This is not Sideways's Cybertron. His Cybertron is so much metallic dust coating Unicron's innards.

This is not Jetstorm's Cybertron. That Cybertron still limps on with its life, much to Sideways's interest. He cannot travel directly to that universe anymore, however, not without alerting his god that he is pushing the boundaries of Unicron's command.

This is not Dreadboots's Cybertron. That Cybertron is healthy and powerful, reaching once more for the majesty it had so long ago. Again, however, that is a universe he may not enter.

This is Auspex's Cybertron. Not so powerful as it might be in a world where there is peace between the Autobots and Decepticons, but surprisingly more healthy. Perhaps the presence of a mech with a direct connection to Primus has something to do with that.

Sideways drives up the winding road to the sanctuary, listening to the familiar singing of his tires over the metal of Cybertron. His doors show Autobot symbols today.

Finding this place had been difficult. This Cybertron actively disliked him, though the inhabitants didn't know why they weren't helpful towards the Delorean'former from Earth. He'd used wit, cunning, and downright trickery, however, to dig out the bits and pieces of information that led him to the map of this section. Once he knew where the temple was, he didn't need anyone else.

When he finally arrives at the temple, he transforms into robot-mode and studies it at a distance. He can feel the sharp-edged menace emanating from the building, the dislike and distrust it has for him.

It makes him smile.

Location: Cascades

Fri, 16 Mar 2007 03:33:18 GMT

After Jetstorm leaves the Medbay post-haste with Auspex in his arms, he weaves off down through the side-corridors, going for the same side door that he took earlier to get outside.

Once out of Metroplex, the city with the watching walls, Jetstorm takes off to the west towards the Cascades. He does not tell Auspex where they are going, or the electronic counter-measures he is using to keep people from following them. He does not want to give Galvatron the chance of finding him while he is still so accursedly weak!

The intrusive feeling of Auspex channeling Primus gets her a strut-rattling shake. "Do not do that. Or I will let you in all the way, priestess." And devour you.

Location: Outlying Tower

Fri, 09 Feb 2007 03:18:37 GMT

Jetstorm turned abruptly when he was out of sight of the Medical Ward and took off at a fast 'skate towards one of the side-doors of Metroplex. He didn't want to face all five Stunticons at once, not like this.

Nor did he, he had to admit to himself, wish to give up Motormaster's sword just yet. It was a good sword, a sharp sword, a weapon and a tool. It performed its function and required nothing more than simple care.

Bits of his mind were dropping out from under him. It had started slowly at first, so he barely noticed, when the chaos-tainted wind first brushed across his spirit. It had sped up immeasurably when he fell back to the world, and he had wanted nothing more to retreat behind the curtain of light and dream sanity.

The thought of secluding himself from Motormaster, of hiding, was intolerable, though. So out he went once more, seeking the heights of the living city on the edge of the wilderness. He knew this place, knew it well and happily, and he knew routes that Motormaster did not.

So he passed out through the doors of Metroplex and spiralled up one of the lesser towers, until he could perch on the summit and stare up at the endless depths of night.

Location: Crater Lake

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 02:49:38 GMT

Storm clouds had piled up over Crater Lake, rumbling threateningly but no rain or lightning lashed down over the national park. The lake itself is a sullen, endless grey, and the snow that blankets the entire area is dull.

There is no charge in the air; it feels as dead as a desert.

The highest point on the island in the lake is bare of trees. Jetstorm kneels there, arms wrapped around his torso, all of the Aerialcrons' optics painfully bright. The air around them flashes with unheard, encrypted radio calls.

Hunting the Truck

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 03:57:28 GMT

Jetstorm knew the tone in Motormaster's voice when he spoke to Dead End. The truck trembled on the edge of a berserker rage, and there was no one, no one at all available to stop him. Not native to this universe, anyway.

The Aerialcron commander, however, is not of this universe, and he knows full well that he can take whatever Motormaster can do to him. All he had to do was find the truck.

Jetstorm flies far above the grey Ferrari, following him back to the recall point. There, in the desert, there is a Decepticon base. The Combaticons' old base, as he remembers.

And there also is Motormaster.

Jetstorm points his nose down and drops, air-brakes screaming; he transforms a hundred feet above the ground, coming to a stop directly in front of the truck. He does not land, but rather hovers a foot above the ground.

OOC Post: Apparently, I hate myself

Mon, 06 Nov 2006 03:45:27 GMT

So, yeah, blame Raven. Am doing the nexus100 with Jetstorm and his universe. Like my main account's fanfic100 Stunticon fics, this'll be updated whenever I feel like it.

Also linked to from my main journal.

001.	Beginnings	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Bored Now

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 18:49:54 GMT

When Rodimus Prime went missing, one of the on-duty technicians re-activated the energy fields around Jetstorm's Quarantine room, locking them into the On position. In the rest of the crisis, the not-entirely wanted guest found himself forgotten. It was a novel experience.

Jetstorm pressed the palm of his hand against the energy-shield and watched great loops of color go warping through it. Pain flared in his hand, but not very much. He'd had far worse.

"Stop it," Slingshot growled. "You're not impressing anyone."

His brothers' heads still dangled from his wings. When he could talk to a medic again, all of them really wanted to know if they could see about getting bodies built for the Aerialbots.

"No, I suppose not." Jetstorm pulled his hand back.

"I hope they don't think this can actually hold you," Skydive murmurred.

Slingshot smirked. "If they do, then they're in for a very bad surprise, ain't they?"

Untied Chains

Mon, 09 Oct 2006 23:39:26 GMT

After the brief semi-lucidity aboard the Cocytus's bridge, Jetstorm sunk again into the darkness of his own mind and dreamed waking dreams. An unkindness of Aerialcrons took flight across his mind's eye, until the cold faded. But the cold had given him comfort, dimly felt and dimly needed.

The silvery sense drew him out of the cold, but it left him soon, and he... faded.

Cocytus Bridge

Thu, 17 Aug 2006 21:21:11 GMT

//Galvatron's sending something called the Dis your way. No clue what that is, but get ready to break orbit when I get there. And Jets, got a little something for you...//

//Acknowledged, commander. The Cocytus awaits your return.// Jetstorm stands in the center of the bridge, arms crossed.

Below him, Dead Air has one long needle-jack connecting him to the ship, a smile twisting his face. "Dropping the cloak..."

The cloak falls, and the sensor-shadow of the Cocytus falls across the world. The Cocytus is long and narrow, a spike of a ship, a stake to drive through the hearts of worlds, a stilleto to stab into the backs of allies. Its armor is mirrored so that it reflects the stars, and it's glory-of-glories is in its dexterity.

//Almost there.// *pause* //I don't care how big it is, we can outfly it if we have to. Besides, Galvatron's not even on it.//

//You've said that before, Void.// A smile quirks his lips, still as lush as Silverbolt's ever were. //But we will annihilate them.//

Sat, 12 Aug 2006 20:36:03 GMT

*Jetstorm tests the rotation of his broken wrist. It's half-healed by now, and healing even as he watches.*

---

Void: *pets*
Jetstorm: *lies at his feet like a good conquered jet*
Void: *scritches his head* *mine*
Jetstorm: *lazy smile* *yours*
Void: *petpet* *reaches out to touch one of the heads*
Jetstorm: *a hand snaps over to catch hold of the Void's wrist*
Void: *sighs and twists hand around, grabbing Jetstorm's wrist* One of these days I'm going to make you stop doing that. *snap!*
Jetstorm: *eyes his broken wrist* I am yours. They are not.
Void: It's all mine.
Jetstorm: Not them.
Void: Why not?
Jetstorm: *There's really no way to explain to your commander and owner "because I said so"* They're Silverbolt's.
Void: You're Silverbolt.
Jetstorm: No. I'm Jetstorm.
Void: Bah.
Jetstorm: *grips the Void's ankle with his broken wrist*
Void: You make no sense. *kicks*
Jetstorm: *gets hurt more* Void...
Void: What?
Jetstorm: There's a Cyclonus here... *traces designs over the Void's feet with the broken hand*
Void: Like I said, no sense. *watches in bemusement*
Jetstorm: *smiles* I want to hurt him.
Void: So go ahead.
Jetstorm: *purrs* Do you want any pieces?
Void: Save his head for me. *strokes his helm*
Jetstorm: Mmmm.... *enraptured smile*
Void: He's all yours, Air Commander.
Jetstorm: *pleased snarl*
Void: So what are you going to do to him? *a twisted version of phone sex*
Jetstorm: I thought I might play with his ears.
Void: Define 'play'.
Jetstorm: Acid. Scalpels. Brands.
Void: Mmm. Tell me more.
Jetstorm: Sullying and abusing him, leaving him covered in my mark for Galvatron to find.
Void: Wait, which one are we talking about?
Jetstorm: Cyclonus.
Void: But which one?
Void: Ours or the other one?
Jetstorm: The other one.
Jetstorm: Ours knows better than to wind up in my hands. Alive.
Void: Heh, good point. Go on.
Jetstorm: Burn out his vocalizer, shred his wings to ribbons, cut off his legs, scar his armor with plasma and acid, flay his hands to the struts...
Void: Oh, yes. *optics dim*
Jetstorm: *presses against the Void's feet* Cut off those pretty Decepticon symbols and brand him with our symbol, the black maw of Unicron...
Void: Mmm. *such lovely mental images* Send the footage to his allies.
Jetstorm: Of course.
Void: *pets him* Then what?
Jetstorm: When I'm done with him? Mmm... Leave him in Galvatron's path? Or give him to Sideways?
Void: Leave him. It'd be more pain for those he knows. And then we can always play with him again.
Jetstorm: *purrs*
Void: So, where were we?
Jetstorm: *eyes his broken wrist*
Void: It'll mend.
Jetstorm: Of course. Just not soon enough.
Void: For what?
Jetstorm: Cyclonus.
Void: He'll be around for a while.
Jetstorm: Mmmm.
Void: Deal.
Jetstorm: *smiles lazily*