Winner of the Mystery Fan Fiction Challenge 2008/9
Airazor and the Wall
Author’s Note: I had enormous fun writing this one. J Thanks Blaze Raptor for proof-reading this.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any Beast Warrior, but I do own Digit and the Wall.
I was being shoved along by a femme thin mouth, and a cold gray optics. I didn’t have a chance to look at my surroundings, the femme was pushing me along too fast, but I got the impression of frantic bots with headphones running in all directions, heavy equipment being carried this way and that, and some intimidating individuals shouting at meeker-looking bots.
And I thought battle-fields were intense.
The femme pushed me through a door. I gasped. A full studio audience were facing a stage with a thick dividing wall, that didn’t divide the stage evenly. One simple stool was on one side, and seven others sat in a row on the other. Lights surrounded a huge screen that was currently a blank black.
I felt myself being roughly turned. The femme stared intently at me, “Now, what happens is that you sit on that lone stool. Seven bots you know,” the femme said in a business-like manner, “will sit on the other side. Voice scramblers will be used so you can’t use their voices to your advantage. You will have to figure out whose sitting on each stool. Each time you guess correctly, you move closer to winning a life time supply of Energon and an insurance package that includes Vok possession protection.” The femme smiled mockingly at me.
I usually was never angered, Tigatron had taught me how to ignore it on quiet days back on Earth, but this bot was ‘shortenin’ my circuits’ as Ratrap would’ve said.
“Alright,” I agreed, masking my dislike with a polite smile.
“You are allowed to ask five questions to all of them. Digit will be out in a bit.”
“Who is Digit?”
“The host,” the femme snapped. “Don’t you watch TV? Honestly.”
She looked at me and I just stood there. The femme tapped her foot, and looked at me expectantly.
When I didn’t move, the femme ordered. “Well, go on and sit down! The sooner this show is filmed the sooner I can go home.”
I scurried down into the brightly checkered staged and sat primly on the solitary stool and waited, scanning the crowd. No familiar faces in the sea of shining faces.
A blast of game-show music nearly toppled me from my seat. I was unused to loud music, preferring the silence of open country. Digit, the game show host, jogged up beside me, and a wave of applause drowned out the music. I cringed slightly as Digit addressed me, “Hey, my name’s Digit. Pleasure to meet such a beautiful femme.”
“I have a boyfriend…” I smiled uncertainly, wondering if he was joking.
“Like that could stop me,” he winked at me. Nope, he wasn’t joking.
Digit was very self-assured, his very appearance suggested self-confidence (plus he seemed to have no problem hitting on random femmes). His head was framed by metal that was shaped into an imitation of a human hairstyle. The bronze metal swirled like soft-serve ice cream, and his bodywork looked like a deep blue suit with a (cheap) clip-on checkered tie.
The roar of the high-charged crowd died down, as Digit faced the crowd, his arms raised as if to calm a storm.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlebots! Welcome to another exciting show of ‘The Wall!”
I turned and was blinded by the huge screen that had eye-catching graphics that flashed with neon lights. Eventually ‘The Wall’ was spelled out flashing blood-red, plum-purple, pea-green, and ocean-blue. It was positively processor overloading. I turned my attention back to Digit, who was explaining the rules to the audience.
“…questions to each of the ‘mystery’ guests. And don’t worry folks, voice scramblers will be used, to make the game a little bit harder. If she gets ‘em right, she’s that much closer to the grand prize, if she gets it wrong, she not only loses all the Energon she could ever want, but she’ll need a nice bath,” Digit pointed above me, as the crowd chuckled.
Glancing upward, I spotted what Digit was gesturing at with alarm. A huge bucket of something I could faintly hear bubbling and frothing, dangled, waiting to spill its contents on me.
“Slag,” I muttered softly. I always wanted to be drenched with sticky glop goop. That was sarcasm, by the way.
Digit flashed me a dazzling smile with very white even teeth. He probably had his dentist bleach them.
“Alright, today’s guest is the gorgeous femme, Airazor. She was part of the famed crew of the Axalon, and helped save the future of all Cybertron and to an extent, the galaxy!” Digit sped through his intro, as if saving the future wasn’t the least bit important. “Airazor, the floor is yours.”
I hadn’t even began to form a single question, and now I had to come up with five that might reveal the identity of the bots on the other side of that huge Wall obscuring half of my view. I had no idea of who was behind the Wall. People from my past? I had never gotten my full memory restored. Hello, gooey goop.
To make matters worse, the whole crowd began shouting at me, bellowing questions that they obviously thought would help me. It did quite the opposite. Not only did most of the questions sound totally unhelpful, but I couldn’t even hear myself think among the confusing yells.
“Ask the hidden robots if they have ever been through troubled times!” That was a stupid question. Everyone had hard spots in their life. And if they didn’t they were spoiled rotten.
“Ask their colors!” Oh, yes, that would narrow it down. (Sarcasm. Again.)
“Did they have girlfriends!” So, all of the bots were boys? That would be useful.
“Have they ever fought in a war!” Well, that sounded half-way decent. I decided to chance it.
As I opened my mouth, a sudden hush fell over the yelling pack of bots, and they held their breath.
“Have any of you, behind the Wall,” I stumbled over how to form my question, “been, I mean, fought in a war?”
The voice sounded like it went through a blender, it went from high to low, “Yezzz, Wazz- I,” the speaker seemed to have trouble saying ‘I’, “hazzz.”
I laughed silently to myself, the speech pattern immediately gave the speaker away, I had fought him tons of times, usually beating the slag out of him.
“Yes, unfortunately, I have” the voice sounded sad (even though it was garbled). I’d have to think about this speaker.
“No,” another voice answered, chuckling sneakily to himself.
Digit walked to the dividing Wall, and poked his head around it, “You are not allowed to lie.”
“Fine. I was,” the voice was shrouded in mystery. I had a inkling of that person was though.
“Yeah,” this voice seemed clever enough to reply in one-word answers.
“Yes, I have fought in a war,” No idea who that was.
“I did not fight in war, I dominated it! I would’ve won, if you pesky Maximals hadn’t interfered!” A tide of boo’s! from the crowd met this statement. I lost who I was thinking of, as my audios were filled with the deafening racket.
As soon as the clamor died down, a new voice answered, “Yes, I have served in a war.”
Digit took straightened, and flashed a smile at the audience, “So we know all these mystery bots were in a war. Hmmm!” he stroked his chin with mock thoughtfulness. The crowd imitating him, looking at me with maddening looks of superiority on their faces. “Lovely Lady Airazor, think of a new question.”
I rolled my optics, his ‘compliments’ were getting on my nerves.
Then the chaos began again.
“Have they had an affair?” that wouldn’t help.
“Are they hot?” neither would that.
Frantically I collected my thoughts and began to think. Obviously two of bots (the first and the sixth) hidden away from me were Preds, and I was pretty sure they were all male. Should I ask the rest of the bots’ fraction or chance a question about their personality? Or rank? Or ambitions? Ugh. I wearily turned my attention back to the crowd, hoping for a good question.
“Can they do acrobatics?” real helpful. (That was sarcasm. Yet again.)
“Do they like cheese?” that was only helpful if Ratrap was on the other side.
“What is their pet peeve?” oh! That was a good one.
Like magic, the crowd quieted as I opened my mouth.
“What is your number one pet peeve?” I asked looking at the Wall.
“Getting zzzlagged!” the first voice said sadly.
“Seeing beauty destroyed by the rages of war,” pretty and poetic, could it be…?
“Being interrupted in the middle of important research!,” the third voice said, as if remembering something annoying.
“Dinosaurs,” the fourth voice said promptly, still using one-word answers. Two growls followed the voice’s comment. There was a scuffle, and a muffled yell from the fourth voice. The crowd was yelling “Fight, fight, fight!” Digit leapt to the other side of Wall. There was a flash of light and a sizzle of electricity.
Digit came back to my side of the Wall, looking pleased with himself, and stroking a stun gun, “Not to worry, my dear Airazor, I took care of it.”
After a pause, in which I could hear heavy panting, the fifth voice answered, “Vermin.”
“Hey!” the fourth voice cried, there was a thunk of metal on metal. The crowd roared its approval, “Fight, fight, fight!”
Digit stepped quickly on the other side of the Wall, “Gentlebots, please!” The ‘argument’ continued, and the crowd was still chanting. There was another flash of light, a buzz of electricity, and the crowd made disappointed noises. The racket died down.
Digit appeared back on my side of the wall, smiling suggestively at me. I determinedly looked away, my mind focused on figuring out the identities of the mystery bots and a way to embarrass Digit on international TV.
“Hmmm… being called… certain nicknames, like Q-” the speaker broke off, probably not wanting to remember an embarrassing nickname. Several bots had nicknames, courtesy of Ratrap. So, the sixth voice couldn’t be him. No wait, Dinobot used to call him ‘Vermin’ and ‘Eater of Garbage’. And ‘Malodorous Mouse.’ Grr…
“When people disobey my orders!” the speaker seemed to be directing this comment at someone I couldn’t see (obviously).
“Not my fault…” muttered the fourth voice. There was a grumble from another voice too, though I didn’t know which one.
Digit sprang up from leaning against the Wall, addressing the audience with the same white grin, “So we know some of mystery bots’ pet peeves.”
Okay, so I know the first voice was definitely Waspinator, the second had a poetic side and loved beauty, the third’s chuckle was a very nice clue, the fourth seemed to clever enough not to give me information about himself (besides the fact he disliked dinosaurs), the fifth was a mystery to me, the sixth seemed to really hate Maximals, and the last one was definitely a leader, and I doubted it was Megatron, so…
My thoughts were stopped as the crowded yell suggestions at me.
“Do you hate Maximals!” someone screamed. I didn’t want to risk asking that in front of a large group of Maximals…
“Can you dance!” I never asked anyone if they could dance.
“Are they good kissers!” No way was I asking that!
“Have they ever eaten a crayon?” …………
It seemed like the crowd was out of good ideas, so I withdrew to my own thoughts.
I smiled as a question came to me.
“What is your favorite pastime?”
There was a pause. I felt some pity for Waspinator, he probably spent most of his spare time in a CR Tank.
“…Wa- I do not have pastime,” he answered finally. Poor guy.
“Nature walks with my lady,” Aw! That’s so romantic. Definitely not Ratrap.
“Cackling,” the third voice sniggered. I knew this guy.
“Annoying pre-evolved bird-brains.”
“Why, you little-!” there was a menacing growl from the fifth voice.
Digit was up in an instant, and yet another flash of blue, and hum of electricity. He came back, shaking his head.
“I do not believe in pastimes, they are a waste of time, that would be better used for developing-” the fifth voice asked in a somewhat breathless way, probably 'cause he had just gotten electrocuted.
“A brain? ‘Cause ya could use one,” sneered the fourth voice.
“You go to far, Rodent!” snarled the fifth, and this time there was a blast of a laser, a yell, and a thud.
“Ya overgrown iguana! What da slag did I do?” shouted the fourth voice.
“Do not feign innocence, Vermin!” hissed the fifth.
Digit sighed and walked slowly around the Wall. A few cycles later, after some very bright bursts of light, the show continued.
“Jacuzzing with… a certain, special… yellow friend,” the sixth voice sounded uncomfortable saying that.
“Playing Tetris,” I had heard rumors about a bot who liked playing that puzzle game…
Digit addressed the crowd again, “We’ll have to wait ‘till after the break to hear Airazor’s final questions.” Digit winked at the camera, then as the camera-bot gave him the thumbs-up, he walked to up to me.
“So baby, what do you say to going out with me,” he asked casually.
“Did you not hear me? I have a boyfriend!” I returned furiously.
“Come on, hon, from what I heard, you’re boyfriend was killed on some hare-brained trip to Earth.”
“No, he wasn’t! That’s just a rumor!” Digit was really getting on my nerves, now.
“Babe, just one date, that’s all I’m asking,” he said smoothly, taking my hand.
I yanked my hand out of his and opened my mouth to say, “Go slag yourself!” but someone interrupted me.
“Digit! We’re back on in five! Four!”
Digit said, “Give me your answer at the end of the show, Lovey-Dove.” I felt ready to barf…
“Three!” Digit smiled cheesily at the camera. “Two!” the camerabot held up one finger, then pointed at Digit.
“Hello, and welcome back!” Digit warmly spoke to the camera lens. “The charming Airazor has used up three of her five questions.” Duh. “So, Airazor,” the bot walked beside me and placed his arm around my shoulders, “do you feel confident you know who the mystery bots are?”
I gingerly lifted his arm off of me, before answering, “Yes, I think I have an idea or two.”
Digit, smoothly ignoring my rejection of him, announced, “So, with some ideas, Airazor moves onto the fourth question!”
On cue, the crowd started screaming at me.
“What was the most dangerous thing they’ve ever done?” Well, the war, obviously.
“Can they swim!” No bot I had known of in the Beast Wars could swim.
“Have they ever eaten a crayon!!” ………(again)
“Love! Ask them about love!” Well, that could lead to something… if I rephrased the question a little.
Stillness claimed the crowd.
“If a femme told you she loved you, what would be your reaction?”
“Wa- I not believe them. Nobody lovezzz Wa- me,” the first voice replied miserably. I was absolutely positive that was Waspy.
“I would take her hand, and declare my undying love for her at that very moment,” I think that was my own lover; he had done just that for me.
“Ha!” cackled the next voice. “A perfect opportunity to manipulate her for my own plans.” Tarantulas or Megatron would’ve said that.
“Well, who could blame ‘er? I’m irresistible to da ladies,” the fourth voice said smugly.
The fifth voice snorted.
“You keep dem eyes still, Chopperface!” the fourth voice cried. “Besides, what would you say?”
“I do not have time for something as frivolous as love,” spat the fifth.
“More like ya can’t find a lady who can stand your breath.”
The fifth voice roared, but Digit looked threatening at the speaker (oh slaggit, I’ll just call ‘em by their names now), Dinobot, and he stopped.
Ratrap’s voice sniggered, and Dinobot growled menacingly. I could see them in my mind’s eye: Dinobot, his big hulking frame leaning over Ratrap, who would be scowling fearlessly back at him.
“I, however, would,” the sixth voice said, “would crush out the femmes spark, by rejecting her, yesss! Unless of course I actually felt the same way…”
“Ya are one sick bot, ya know that, Grape Face?” Ratrap remarked.
“At least I don’t pretend femmes kiss the ground I walk on, Vermin,” the sixth voice added sourly.
“Oh, I know they don’t, they save that kind o’ stuff for me.”
A voice cleared his throat, then said, “It’s my turn, now. I would let her know that I felt the same way, and perhaps if the time was right, begin a relationship.”
“You really think these things through, Primal,” commented the sixth voice, jeeringly. So the seventh voice was Optimus!
“You just ruined the game, M-,” Optimus began hotly, before stopping, then continuing on stiffly, “I mean random bot I have never seen before.”
“Waz- I is confuzzzed,” Waspinator buzzed balefully.
“Shut up, you incompetent bug,” the sixth voice snapped.
“Why should he listen to you? You don’t command us anymore!” the third voice said slyly.
“You dare challenge me? Remember where that got you before, surreptitious spider,” warned the sixth voice. That voice was definitely Megatron’s.
“I’m more prepared for an overgrown grape this time, Meg-” the third voice hissed, he was interrupted by Digit, who had snuck over and shocked the arguing bots.
“Ow! Insignificant Maximal scum!” Megatron’s voice bellowed. Digit was tossed over the Wall. He landed in a heap and lay stunned. I hid a smile, served that greasy screw-head right.
The crowd was silent, staring at Digit, then began to scream at Megatron, and get into arguments with each other. I decided to get this game over with before my former comrades (and enemies) destroyed the entire show.
I powered my jets, and flew a few feet higher, the audience’s gaze shifted toward me.
“So, let’s get this wrapped up,” I said. “The mystery bots are Waspinator, Tigatron, Tarantulas, Ratrap, Dinobot, Megatron, and Optimus Primal.”
Digit, who picked himself of the floor, pointed to the screen behind me, and yelled (somewhat dazedly), “Is… she, is she correct?”
The screen went blank. Then with a explosion of lights and color, the screen flashed, “WINNER!!!”
With a feeling of apprehension, I landed and watched as the Wall slid backward, so I could see the ‘mystery bots’.
I had a brief impression of Dinobot and Ratrap glaring daggers at each other, Optimus and Megatron having a heated discussion, Waspinator buzzing above Tarantulas, who was looking bored, before something wrapped its strong arms around me.
“I missed you, my lady,” Tigatron whispered in my ear. (He sounded normal now.)
I smiled, and returned the hug, “I missed you too.”
Tigatron kissed me on the cheek, before letting me go. I walked over to Ratrap and Dinobot. Out of the corner of my optic, I saw Tigatron walk angrily towards Digit.
“Hello, you two,” I said.
Ratrap jerked his head in my direction, still glaring at Dinobot, who waved a clawed hand at me.
“Oh, come on,” I rolled my optics, “you two should be friends!”
“Friends!? Huh!” Ratrap cried, looking at me as if I was crazy.
“I could never be friends with the Vermin, it lacks a certain-” Dinobot began, a sneer growing on his face.
“What!?” Ratrap snapped his gaze back to Dinobot.
“Hey!” I called the attention back to myself. “I have something that you both can do for me…”
I whispered so only they could hear. A grin grew on Ratrap’s face, while Dinobot cocked an eye-ridge, as if vaguely interested…
I walked over to Digit.
“I’m so sorry Digit, are you okay?” I asked him in a sugar-coated voice, and guided him to my stool.
“I’m, I’m fine,” he said slowly, then his face brightened as he saw who he was talking to. “What about you, Sugar, what’s your answer?”
I walked backward, while talking, “Oh, Digit, I’ll let my pals answer for me.” Ratrap and Dinobot moved behind me.
“Wha-?” Digit asked dumbly, looking questioningly at the two bots.
Ratrap drew his gun, and Dinobot’s optics glowed emerald green.
“Don’t kill me!” shrieked Digit, covering his face with his hands.
Dinobot and Ratrap fired.
Digit looked around, then seeing he was alive and undamaged, gloated at my comrades, “Ha! You missed!”
“Did we?” Dinobot asked mildly, gaze moving upward, above Digit.
Following his gaze, Digit saw the bucket of sludge, swinging back and forth, hanging on a damaged chain, ready to snap.
I started to laugh as Digit was drenched with a neon green goop, and more bots from the audience joined in as they noticed Digit’s miserable form, doused in goo that dripped sluggishly onto the stage. I noticed with glee the camera was still filming.
“Is that a ‘no’?” Digit asked dejectedly.
I laughed harder then turned to my mystery bots. I smiled happily. Tigatron gave Digit a smug look, before returning my smile.
"I still have one question," I said, taking Tigatron’s hand.
"And what would that be, Maximal?" Megatron asked.
My smile grew as I asked casually, “Does anyone want ice cream?”
“Yeah!” Ratrap transformed into his vehicle mode, and Dinobot gingerly sat on him, grumbling.
“How am I supposed eat? I have no mouth!” muttered Tarantulas.
I left, hand in hand with Tigatron, laughing and talking, glad to be off the set of ‘the Wall.’