groovysaboteur-blog

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GT-4 J4ZZ ….

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Do you remember the 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing In the key that our souls were singing. As we danced in the night, Remember how the stars stole the night away

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It’s night time somewhere

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David Arnold, Mosquitoland

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astreakofblue:

Bluestreak wasn’t sure if he’d call himself a tough mech. A moment ago he was cowering in fear at the gun Jazz had pointed to his helm. Such a display didn’t seem like something he’d imagine with a mecha you’d called strong. Even if it had been his life on the line, didn’t the cool tough guys seem uncaring in such dangerous situations? And while others may have called him lucky for not ending up with a bullet through his helm among other things, the young mech definitely wouldn’t consider himself anywhere near lucky.

Not after everything he’s been through.

Speaking of which, he felt relieved when Jazz didn’t delve forward into his past. The few times an older mech has tried taking him into their care, they’ve always asked the same questions. Where are your caretakers? What happened to all your friends and family? How did you end up the only survivor? Attempting to answer them always caused a bad taste to form in his mouth. With how low on fuel he was, the last thing he wanted was to lose his appetite here. Primus only knows when he’ll be able to grab another full cube to himself without any trouble.

Halfway done with his cube, the young mech paused on refueling as he looked at the hologram Jazz had projected of Folsom. The name itself didn’t ring any bells and despite how often he traveled, Bluestreak wasn’t too familiar with the reputations the various planets of their galaxy carried. He let the new information being told to him go through his processor a bit before answering back.

“It’s definitely not ideal but I can’t ask you to drop me off on any other planet.” He didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go and he couldn’t stay here on this ship. Bluestreak didn’t really have a choice as far as he saw. With that weighing heavily on his processor, he decided to try to steer the conversation in a different direction for now. Once they arrived on this planet, he’d just have to make do.

“Why Folsom though? What exactly do you have to deliver on a planet like that?”

Jazz was quiet for a moment, having confirmed that the other mech wasn’t fully aware of his line of work.

“I ain’t doin’ deliveries. I’m just… pickin’ someone up.” The bounty hunter gave Bluestreak a sly grin. Jazz’s occupation wasn’t a jealously guarded secret, but it was one that he didn’t readily reveal to just anyone. As much as he craved notoriety and attention, he was still prudent enough to make sure his presence didn’t scare away any potential targets.

After hastily downing the rest of his cube, Jazz returned to the seat in front of the navigation console and propped his pedes up on top of it as the autopilot continued towards the coordinates. He left the hologram up for Bluestreak to examine at his leisure—but mostly because he had just gotten comfortable and the button was too far away for him to care.

“You ain’t gotta ask. I mean, this ain’t no shuttle service, but believe me when I say that planet ain’t the best place to be. I could drop you off there, but you might not ever leave.” Jazz’s chuckle seemed out of place following that statement. “We ain’t even halfway there yet, so it’s no big deal for now. We’ll figure somethin’ out.”

Hopefully.

Maybe the planet wouldn’t be as dangerous as he predicted. Maybe there would be a shuttle that Bluestreak could take to some other planet that was a little more decent. Maybe no one will decide to harass the mech and he could travel wherever the ship would take him.

As much as Jazz hoped that Folsom wouldn’t live up to his expectations, he had a grim feeling that the stories and rumors he had heard about the planet held some truth.

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When I talk to you I am happy. Because you listen, and my words find a home.

Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions Volumes 2 and 3  (via wordsnquotes)

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calculxtederror:

Prowl didn’t immediately respond to the spec-ops mech’s complaints. Instead, the soft whirring noise of his miniature vacuum continued on as he moved the device to gently suck up the bits of popcorn that spilled out the moment Jazz had set the bowl aside. 

Perhaps if the Praxian had been someone much more eager to please then he would have set the item away once Jazz began to express his disapproval. But as Prowl was, a mech who couldn’t leave things half finished, he focused on the task at hand; cleaning up the mess made by the more social of the two mechs seated on this couch. Leaning over slightly, he ran the vacuum over one of Jazz’s legs before turning the appliance off and settling back into his spot.

With that settled, he began to redirect his attention to what the saboteur was asking of him. “I was having no problems watching until your game affected my space and frame.”

Jazz was about to say something when he was interrupted by the feeling of that vacuum on his leg. The delay before Prowl’s response only frustrated Jazz even further, since he felt he was being ignored for the time being.

“Why do you even have that thing? Do you go into other people’s rooms and mess with their stuff without permission too?” Actually, that was something the saboteur himself was guilty of on multiple accounts, but it was never anything as benign as cleaning.

“And for your information, that wasn’t a game; I was eatin’, genius.” Jazz grabbed the popcorn bowl again. “Besides, if I really wanted to mess with your personal space I’d just do somethin’ like this.” He slid over towards Prowl’s side of the sofa so that the two mech were shoulder-to-shoulder, with Jazz leaning a little onto the poor tactician.

“How’s your space now, buddy?” At this point Jazz wasn’t even paying attention to the show anymore, being an nuisance to his friend was more entertaining at the moment.

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calculxtederror:

As the show began to set up characters and the start of what appeared to be the first arc of the plot, Prowl’s optics remained focused on the screen in front of Jazz and himself. The program received his full attention not due to any genuine interest in it but because the tactician knew better than to try pulling out any of his datapads right now.

Even though there were reports he could be looking over, files he could be sending among other tasks, it didn’t take any calculations on his part to know how foolish of an idea it would be to try bringing in his work here with Jazz. Past interactions with the saboteur gave him a good enough idea of how the other mech would react to that. His work would have to wait until morning.

Doorwings giving the slightest twitch when something landed on his right leg, the tactician looked down in time to see a twin piece of energon popcorn land on his frame with the previous. It’s with a slow turn of his helm that the Praxian glanced over towards Jazz and the mess the spec-ops mech was making.

Why Jazz felt the need to waste his treat with this game, he didn’t understand. 

He chose not to ponder on it. Instead, he reached into his sub space to pull out a mini vacuum and with a flick of the switch on the lowest setting, he began to clean up the missed energon popcorn that had landed not only on himself but the couch.

Jazz was still tossing more and more popcorn into the air when he noticed a little movement beside him and a soft noise. He looked to the side with his usual grin, which slowly faded away as he watched Prowl... vacuuming discarded popcorn.

“Oh, c’mon!” He huffed, setting the bowl aside. “Can’t you just go 30 minutes without doin’ some kinda work?” Jazz gestured to the humming vacuum, oblivious to the mess he had made. “Why don’tcha just sit back and watch the show like I asked? That ain’t hard, man.”

Even thought the tactician was actually doing Jazz a favor, the saboteur still saw it as a result of Prowl’s workaholic attitude rather than a result of his own actions. 

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Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

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No matter what happens in life, be good to people. Being good to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind.

Taylor Swift (via brittlesilverlord)

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fuckyeahguiltygearmusic:

Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN- Original Soundtrack – Jack-a-Dandy

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Cowboy Bebop insert song-See You Space Cowboy Seatbelts featuring Mai Yamane

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calculxtederror:

Years back, he had often wondered how someone with just as many obligations as him could still manage to be so energetic at the end of the day. Now, after so many more interactions with Jazz, Prowl was content to chalk up Jazz’s seemingly endless bound of energy to simply being one of the saboteur’s many little quirks.

“I’m glad to hear that.” There was the smallest hint of a smile on the tactician’s faceplates as he spoke. “Likewise for myself.” While Prowl didn’t crave nor feel like he particularly needed the company of others, he wouldn’t deny that among the Autobots were a select few of mecha whose presence he did enjoy. 

“Considering that the last piece of human media I can recall viewing was with you, I’m certain that I haven’t.” That was a few months back if he was remembering correctly. What show had that been again? One of those subtitled Japanese animations that Jazz seemed fond of? Not that Prowl had an issue with reading while watching. It was the absurdness of those particular animated programs though that had his processor ready to reboot itself.

With one last glance to the mech at his side, his optic flickered over towards the screen in front of them; focusing on the moving images before them.

It wasn’t long into the show that Jazz started tossing bits of the energon popcorn into the air in an attempt to catch it in his mouth. Either he was trying to show off or he had simply gotten distracted, either way his attention soon shifted to his little game.

He leaned from side to side, forward and back, following the pieces with his optics only to have them miss his mouth completely. Most just bounced off of his visor, but one soared over his helm to land behind the sofa, while others were landing on Prowl. Jazz didn’t notice the mess he was making, being too absorbed in trying to catch at least one piece of popcorn out of all that he was throwing into the air.

Finally, he managed to catch one, but this only inspired him to try even more times. Most of the attempts were silly failures.

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