BONUS ROUND 1: THROWBACK PROMPTS

[a1c0bb]

In this round, we'll be using prompts from last year's bonus rounds! You can either come up with a prompt based on the previous themes, fill a prompt from previous bonus rounds, or fill a prompt that's been posted this year!

Here is the tag with all the previous bonus rounds!

Fills can be in any format, and you can fill your teammates prompts, but you cannot fill your own prompt.

You can post as many fills and as many prompts as you want!

for your prompt post title, please use the following format:

PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

for your fill post title, please use the following format:

FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

If you're filling from a 2023/2024 prompt, please link to their prompt in your post!

To participate, reply to this post!

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FILL: TEAM MECHA

[jackjonesnga]

Fandom: Tranformers (All Media Types)
Ship: Arcee/Butch!Hot Rod
Words: 1801

“This is your last chance to answer me and keep all your limbs intact; who are you working for?” Arcee glowers over the short orange bot tied to the chair in front of her. She's had the safety on her blaster the whole time, only using it for intimidation. Truth be told, she'd rather just hand them over to Elita to deal with. Elita always had more an appetite for violence than Arcee, and she really wants to go over her intel with the rest of the Wreckers data team. But if any member of her team finds out that this bot had followed her all the way back to the outskirts of the outer base without her awareness, they could label her as compromised and she'd be left to deal with the Decepticon government with no support. So she has to deal with this mess by herself or lose the comrades she had gotten to know only six months prior.

“No one, I swear!" That's the same response the orange bot has given for the last hour. It’s starting to grind on Arcee's gears, but she still has enough self restraint to not smack them with her blaster.

“Then why have you been following me? Don't think I haven't noticed!" Arcee hopes her bluff is believable and can cover up the shame from being tracked by such an amateur.

“I'm just a really big fan, honest! I've seen you and the other resistance gals fight against those 'Con soldiers in the dark of the night. I just wanted to talk with you and learn more.” The squirming from the bot seems to be less of an escape tactic and more of a nervous tic. That doesn’t make Arcee any less apprehensive.

“That is the worst cover story I've ever heard.”

“It's not a cover story! I know it sounds really really stupid. I just wanted to talk to you guys and get some perspective.”

"Do I look like I was forged yesterday?"

“I wasn't trying to imply anything like that! Look, I'm a writer with the Iacon Inquirer, you can check my badge in my pack.” The bot stretches their neck, pointing their nose to the brown box on the table behind Arcee. She reaches back and shuffles through it, eyes never losing sight of her captive. Her hand stops over a stiff card and she pulls it out to look.

“‘Hot Rod, Writing Intern, Iacon Inquirer.’” The picture on the card seems to match the visage of the bot in front of her. Though the bot in the picture looks more polished with a wider, cuter smile and a certain light in the eyes that’s not there in the orange captive. Arcee flips the card around and squints at the holographic seal of authenticity. There hasn’t been any evident tampering. Arcee would know, she tried to use a stolen reporter’s card to get into a press conference with Chancellor Starscream. But she couldn’t deal with the ink that spilled when she tried to remove the seal around the card and replace the photo.

Maybe they are telling the truth. She looks back at Hot Rod as they continue.

“No one wants to write anything that puts those 'Con scum in a bad light, they’re all scared of getting thrown in jail or worse. I'm on the knife's edge with my editor for suggesting anything too ‘radical’,” Arcee can almost picture their fingers curl at the word. “so I thought maybe I could write some kind of book or zine or something about your team. If other bots saw that there was a whole group standing up to the government, maybe it'd inspire them to do something rather than be afraid. I'd use aliases and cover faces and things like that if you want, but I think it could do a lot of good.” They give her a small hopeful smile and Arcee only scowls.

She recognizes them for what they are; a naive Iaconian dreamer. She’d seen their type before, spoilt punks that lost some of their privileges after the invasion and thought all they had to do was waltz into an allied cadre above ground, offer to give the resistance some ‘really good ideas’ and go back to life before the ‘Cons. Arcee had been privy to Greenlight grilling the pompous brats whenever they’d show up to the bakery front offering their support and suggestions. She takes in a deep breath, preparing to scare some common sense into this idiot.

“Lets say for even a minute I believed you. There’s a reason we fight at night and keep ourselves hidden. We don’t even use each other’s real names so that if we get captured, nothing gets back to the enemy. Do you know how absolutely stupid it would be to just publish our information out in the open? Do you realization how that compromises us?” She grabs the back of the chair and makes sure their face is level with hers. “And do you think for a second they wouldn’t come looking for you, trying to break you for the truth about our team? They will make you disappear for good. Your family and friends won’t mention your name out loud ever again. This isn’t a game, buddy. Its war.”

Hot Rod goes still and silent in sudden realization. There's tears in the corner of their eyes that scratch on Arcee’s spark casing. She’d never seen any one of those kids react the way they were right now. Perhaps she went too hard on the poor bot.

Curse my sensitive soul. Elita would smack her helm if she saw what she’s about to do. She holsters her blaster and crouches beside them.

“Look. I’ll let you go if you promise to go back to whatever fancy little apartment you live in, stay away from work for a few days and forget you ever saw anything. If you squeal, I’ll make sure whatever the ‘Cons could do to you look like a daydream.”

Hot Rod doesn’t look up at her, blue eyes fixed to the grimy basement floor. She moves to undo the chains, trying to dampen the awkward silence. Finally, the orange bot says something with a soft, shaky voice.

“I don’t have family. Not anymore, not since the ‘Cons moved into Nyon.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry.” Arcee wants to kick herself in the shin. She’d only heard about the horrors on the countryside, the firebombs, the captured survivors. Out off all Cybertronians, they’d suffered the worst of it. Of course somebot like Hot Rod would want to fight back. She fumbles awkwardly to remove the last of the bindings on their wrists, and doesn’t look up at them when they rub their sore joints.

“I…I just wanted to do something. I’m tired of going into work and pretending that everything is fine. I’m tired of having to ignore what they’ve done to us, what they’re doing to us. You’re the only bots doing anything about it.” Hot Rod locks eyes with her. “I saw you over at the Pavillions break heads and blow up that ugly Megatron statue. I’ve been thinking about it ever since, like ‘I gotta meet her and figure out how to help.’. I’m sorry to be a bother.” Hot Rod turns to the stairs and walks out.

“Wait!” Arcee calls out for them. “You could join us.”

“What?” They whip their head around and wipe the rest of their tears from their confusion stricken face.

“You could…be a part of my team. You’re clearly good at sneaking into places without being seen easilt. You have to have some writing chops to get hired at the Inquirer, and you’re either brave or stupid enough to want to throw your life away for this.”

“Is…is that supposed to be a compliment?” Hot Rod tilts their head and studies her. “It had the cadence of a compliment but that sounded kinda back handed.”

“I don’t know, do you think having a death wish is admirable?” Arcee folds her arms with a smirk. Hot Rod shrugs.

“I don’t really care about being admired. We’re never going to be safe if we just lay on our backs and let them walk over us. So if I die like I probably will anyway, I’d like it to count for something.”

They’ll fit right in. Arcee places a hand on their shoulder and pulls them closer.

“I’ll have to talk to the others to vet you, but if you tell them you’re from Nyon and about…y’know, maybe they’ll be nicer about it.”

“Okay, I will.”

“You’ll get a new name too. And you can’t tell them you followed me here. You have to say I…”Arcee hesitates, thinking about the most plausible lie to give to Greenlight. “Picked you up from a ‘radical’ book club.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” They give her a full salute and a wide beaming grin. Arcee can’t help but return the gesture, smiling for the first time in months. “So…when do I start?”

“I can take you to them at first light tomorrow. I can meet you at the market center and we’ll go from there.”

“Alright, will do!” The two climb up the stairs, then Hot Rod pauses. “I didn’t get your name. Or code name rather, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Arcee. But some of the others call me ‘Cee.” She offers her hand out and they shake it firmly

“Arcee.” Hot Rod stretches out the vowels, as if feeling them on their tongue. “It’s a cute name and it suits you.”

“How do you figure it does?”

“It’s the name of that ancient governess, Arcee Tetralight from Protohex, right? I read about her in history lessons at the University. She was firm and kind in her rule, and she looked really pretty in those old statues.” Hot Rod’s eyes are focused somewhere far away from the confines of the old dingy basement. There’s a hint of blue flush on their dark gray face.

“You think I’m pretty too?” Arcee teases. The flush spreads all across the expanse of Hot Rod’s face.

“Oh I didn’t mean to imply… and I’m not saying you aren’t…I mean I wasn’t trying to…look I’m so so sorry if that was way out of line of me, I don’t want to seem like a jerk I…” Arcee places a hand on the stammering bot’s shoulder and squeezes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hot Rod. Okay?”

“Uh huh, yup, sure thing! Good night, Arcee, ma’am, miss!” Hot Rod bolts up the stairs and out the back door of the abandoned building so impossibly fast, it takes a moment for Arcee’s processor to register. She laughs to herself giddily, realizing for the first time in a long time she wasn’t completely overcome in misery.

She’s really looking forward to seeing Hot Rod again.