Transformers in teh headspace
Nov. 16th, 2011 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I now have a collection of new muses - tf ones, from various 'verses. G1!Jazz ambushed me driving home from class today with a fic, no less inspired by Lady Gaga - Paparazzi. A couple of other songs made their influence known in the planning stages and resulted in what you see before you. It may yet become a series...
Title: (Haven't decided yet)
'Verse: G1
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Blaster, Moonracer
Warnings: Pre-slash, if you consider a relationship between genderless robots that use male pronouns slash.
Summary: Jazz takes image-captures for a living. And he hates it. Until his new muse makes an appearance.
He didn't know when it started. His passion for image-capturing had been with him since his sparkling days, and many of his pictures now brought high prices from the artist set. His main income came from taking captures of the rich and famous, but Jazz had hated it - it was so fake, plastic. Still fun, as he got into lots of parties (the compromising pictures he picked up in passing at these things was half his income alone!) but there was no one he could trust in those circles. They were all backstabbers. And so flashy! Their frames and paintjobs always screamed "I have money, I must flaunt it". It was sickening.
Then came that one orn. He'd been taking captures in the Crystal Gardens of Praxus; and in one of them, just at one side and almost out of the frame, was a black and white mech. It was like the sky fell on him.
The mech had beautiful clean lines, and his black and white colouring was understated. The mech turned, and Jazz recognised his decals as those of an Enforcer. But it was the expression on the mech's face that caught him like a spell - it had this slight smile that made the ice-blue optics glow.
Jazz had barely stopped himself from calling out and ruining the moment, when it was ruined anyway by another Enforcer coming up beside his new muse. A quick conversation, and that moment of peace fell away as if it had never been. Storming back to duty, the mech never noticed his new admirer. But having seen that vision of beauty, Jazz became obsessed. He hated to admit it but he'd become a bit of a stalker, though he preferred the term paparazzi.
Unlike the hardcore paparazzi that followed the rich and famous, somewhat similar to his actual job, Jazz just tried to take as many image-captures that somehow included that one mech. It was difficult; an Enforcer is not often called out into the public eye for photography, and the mech was a rather private one; but Jazz had amassed a collection of images that captured the mech in varying situations and moods. At least once every cycle he'd retreat to his shrine for his muse.
Blaster, a DJ friend of his, called it creepy, but had composed a song at Jazz's request. It encompassed Jazz's feelings for the mech - Primus, he didn't even know his name! - and his intentions. Another friend of his, Moonracer, had sung the lyrics to it. She understood some of where Jazz was coming from, but also considered his attention a little excessive and skewed. Every time she saw him afterwards, she asked him if he'd worked up the courage to talk to his muse yet. And every time, he'd responded in the negative.
Something had to give.
Title: (Haven't decided yet)
'Verse: G1
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Blaster, Moonracer
Warnings: Pre-slash, if you consider a relationship between genderless robots that use male pronouns slash.
Summary: Jazz takes image-captures for a living. And he hates it. Until his new muse makes an appearance.
*************************************
He didn't know when it started. His passion for image-capturing had been with him since his sparkling days, and many of his pictures now brought high prices from the artist set. His main income came from taking captures of the rich and famous, but Jazz had hated it - it was so fake, plastic. Still fun, as he got into lots of parties (the compromising pictures he picked up in passing at these things was half his income alone!) but there was no one he could trust in those circles. They were all backstabbers. And so flashy! Their frames and paintjobs always screamed "I have money, I must flaunt it". It was sickening.
Then came that one orn. He'd been taking captures in the Crystal Gardens of Praxus; and in one of them, just at one side and almost out of the frame, was a black and white mech. It was like the sky fell on him.
The mech had beautiful clean lines, and his black and white colouring was understated. The mech turned, and Jazz recognised his decals as those of an Enforcer. But it was the expression on the mech's face that caught him like a spell - it had this slight smile that made the ice-blue optics glow.
Jazz had barely stopped himself from calling out and ruining the moment, when it was ruined anyway by another Enforcer coming up beside his new muse. A quick conversation, and that moment of peace fell away as if it had never been. Storming back to duty, the mech never noticed his new admirer. But having seen that vision of beauty, Jazz became obsessed. He hated to admit it but he'd become a bit of a stalker, though he preferred the term paparazzi.
Unlike the hardcore paparazzi that followed the rich and famous, somewhat similar to his actual job, Jazz just tried to take as many image-captures that somehow included that one mech. It was difficult; an Enforcer is not often called out into the public eye for photography, and the mech was a rather private one; but Jazz had amassed a collection of images that captured the mech in varying situations and moods. At least once every cycle he'd retreat to his shrine for his muse.
Blaster, a DJ friend of his, called it creepy, but had composed a song at Jazz's request. It encompassed Jazz's feelings for the mech - Primus, he didn't even know his name! - and his intentions. Another friend of his, Moonracer, had sung the lyrics to it. She understood some of where Jazz was coming from, but also considered his attention a little excessive and skewed. Every time she saw him afterwards, she asked him if he'd worked up the courage to talk to his muse yet. And every time, he'd responded in the negative.
Something had to give.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-15 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-03 03:13 pm (UTC)