IDW Publishing Forums

[Novastorm]

OK so it has been killing me to not post the Writing comp for the past year or so.
I still see fan-fic posted here, so what's the difference if there is a poll attached? I like this corner of fan-fic fun. I miss the critiques, the comments and discussion and most of all the participation. Month in, month out we had fantastic entries.
So....
I'm going to try it again.

Vote, comment, discuss, let's see if we can build this up again until the powers-that-be decide to shut it down. If they want to.
If...

It's FEBRUARY, so let's get started! February's theme will be revealed below the entries that were recieved for January's theme.

January's entries are presented in alphabetical order by author.

The theme, chosen by Big Kahuna, for-

January- "Upgraded!"

In the spirit of the New Year, we're writing about new beginnings! Upgraded, reformatted, or refitted, write a story about a Transformer adjusting to a new, better body, and the new powers that come with it. From Headmasters to Transmetals to Powerlinxing to just taking a new body, have fun with this one!

Now go! We've provided the theme, you provide the rest!

And remember; keep any comments constructive as everyone worked hard on these.

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1. An Old Wolf’s New Trick

by Mayhem

Synopsis: If a creature cannot speak your language, does that make him an unintelligent drone?


“Diagnostic check complete,” a monotone bodiless voice informed the room.

It was nothing new for the small bot to wake up to. For well over two millennia, every few cycles around the sun he had been through a major procedure. Once upon a time he had lived as a pure organic. At the time he had been considered old by his ninth winter on earth. Between a natural disaster and an unwanted war his clan had been forced to the far reaches of the continent. Enemy warriors tracked his pack. As his clan’s tiny leader he left to face the attackers. Little else was known about what happened between when he left and when the humans found him near death.

Humans were the first to replace parts of his flesh with robotics. It marked the beginning of a long journey that none could have predicted. The first upgrades were simple, even primitive. They were done as life saving measures to preserve his species. He remembered the awkward little cart that replaced his missing left hind leg and mangled right hind leg. At the time he had not know about the pace maker.

It had also marked the end of his freedom. Unable to be released into the wild, he was slowly domesticated as he endured further procedures to ‘improve’ his life. Internal organs were replaced as he aged. Improvements in prosthetics helped him escape the blasted little cart. When the world advanced robotically, he was fitted with a robotic leg.

Centuries past and the original purpose of preserving his species had been forgotten. The once proud alpha was viewed as an interesting pet and upgraded to fit owner to owner. By the time he was presented to a Maximal ambassador’s youngest creation as a gift, he had little to no flesh left. It should have felt demeaning to be passed around as an object but the little wolf took it all in stride. He outlived his enemies’ decedents and his entire race. He survived.

Aside from tinkering at his physical form he was treated well. Though considered by most to be a simple minded beast, none knew the depths of his intelligence –now transferred onto a central processor- had always been. Just because no spark had ever thought to put a thought to language converter in his auditory system did not make him unintelligent. It only made him unable to communicate in a language they readily understood. However, he understood them. He had centuries to learn.

“Display results at medic station 3b,” sounded a closer, distinctly masculine command.

That was new. Usually he woke up alone. His optics opened and he turned his head towards the voice. It was the same medic that had been measuring and taking readings from him for half a lunar cycle. At least it sort of looked like the same medic. Something was different about him.

What the small wolf-bot failed to compute was he had been in storage for a long time and transported across space to a colony where beast modes were both accepted and required. There were other things that he did not know and things the medic did not know.

The red canine sat up on the narrow raised table and used his back leg to flick free the connector cables like they were flees. The room was bright, clean, and had an antiseptic smell to it. Across the room sat a creature that made his tail clang against the table.

“Drone, deactivate,” ordered the medic dismissively.

The little wolf-bot had been called many things but never a drone. So, not knowing he was being spoken to, he ignored the command. The white furred creature captivated the red’s attention. Whatever it was it was young. He liked younglings. Better yet, it looked to be a combination of human and wolf. Best yet, it smelled organic. It looked up from where it sat swinging its legs. When it saw him, it smiled.

“Hi!” barked Radar.

“Hiya,” the were-pup waved, “I’m Cassidy. You in for a check-up too?”

Radar wasn’t surprised the boy was able to understand him. Cassidy had wolf in him. It made perfect sense to Radar that another wolf creature could understand him. What he didn’t count on was the rest of the room staring at him in horrified shock. His long ears folded back like an unsure pup.

“What?”

The new ‘drone’ having intelligence shocked them badly. Their stares made him uneasy and he hopped of the table. His paw caught and he started to trip. Sounds of whirling joints and shifting metal filled his auditory sensors. Radar landed on his feet; not his paws. His fluids hammered through his chest chamber and he looked up to see the pup smiling.





2. Monsters

by Omega Prime

Synopsis: Slog learns something important about friendship. Also, unspeakable evil.


When Slog powered on, he noticed something amiss with his right arm. It felt wrong, like it was damaged or otherwise non-functional. Slowly, his optics drifted towards the defective limb to diagnose the problem. When he finally identified the problem, it was quite simple: he had no right arm.

While this discovery should have come to him as a shock, Slog simply accepted it as a fact that he had no arm there, and considered the possibility that he had never had an arm at all. Eventually, he decided it would be more productive to adjust himself to the surroundings than to wonder about the existence of his right arm.

The second thing that Slog noticed was that he was not alone. He did not see anyone near or around him; rather, he heard voices, quiet and hard to understand, but definitely there. As his optics moved from one corner of the socket to the other, quite independent of each other, he realized that it wasn't just him moving the eyes; it seemed the voices were just as involved in the process as he was.

Slog soon realized that something was wrong. Based on the information his optics had collected, the room he was in was rather large, and if he was attached to some sort of table, as he believed himself to be, his body should not be taking up so much space. But it was. Not only that, but Slog definitely looked different- his chassis was bigger than it had once been, and his legs were two different colors and seemed poorly matched. It seemed the other voices had come to a similar conclusion, and had began to chatter faster and faster, working themselves into a frenzy. Slog realized that his own voice had joined this chorus, and he began to pick up on small traits of the voices as they began to meld together. All of them were repugnant, in their own way, repulsive and selfish Cybertronians whose baseness was evident in the way they thought-

Slog was surprised by this term. Thought. Why "thought" instead of "talked"? Slog began to focus on this strange concept. However, before he could begin to refine this thought, his audio receptors picked up a loud, grinding noise. Both optics rotated towards the source of the noise. It was a rusted crane, possibly millennia old, carrying something on the winch. Slog and the voices realized what it was simultaneously- their missing limb. Slog and the voices did not realize that they had collectively claimed possession of the limb.

With almost unbearable slowness, the arm was lowered towards the corresponding stump of Slog's shoulder. Suddenly, another voice joined the maelstrom, and the temporarily silent voices began to chatter once more, becoming more and more distorted and interchangeable, until finally the arm was connected, and there were no more voices.

When that final limb was attached, Slog stopped being an individual. Now, he was a component, a piece of something far greater. The judgment he had passed on the other voices was gone; he now understood them as intimately as he understood himself. He was no better than any of them; he was, in fact, the most horrendous of the six, a butcher, a killer masquerading as an artist. But they would not judge him for what he did to the Empties in Kaon, for what he dubbed "art"; in the same way, he would not judge them for being uneducated brutes, for being cruel, callous, self-destructive, arrogant, and otherwise monstrous. Slog was no longer just Slog; while he retained his individuality, he was also Birdbrain, and Icepick, and Scowl, and Widlfly, and Bristleback; at the same time, he was them. They were all the same now; each was linked in the most intimate way possible. All six of them had been broken down and reassembled into one. All of them now displayed how monstrous they were on the inside on the outside, proudly; they could not hide it. They were the six monsters, now one creature. As the chorus of six became the voice of one, it chose a name for itself, something simple, to the point, and as revolting as the creature it belonged to.

"Mon-struc-tor," the monster drawled aloud. Slog deemed it a fine work of art, indeed.




END OF LINE


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Voting will remain open until the 15th of February.

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And now, roll on February. Silverblades2, who won January's voting has chosen the new torture topic for-

February- My Brother Standing Next To Me

In Sparta the shield you carried was not for you, but for the brother that stood beside you, and his shield for his brother and so on. It's a common belief that while a soldier holds his country in the highest honor and respect he does not fight for the country, but the brother fighting beside him. Throughout history bonds deeper, and more intense than anyone could comprehend have been forged between warriors who haven't even known each other's names, and never had the chance to learn. Illustrate such a bond between beings, whether they've known each other for their whole lifetimes, have just met, or only heard of each other in passing.

Show me the bonds of brotherhood forged by fire.

Now go! We've provided the theme, you provide the rest!

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The Fine Print

1. Completed pieces must be returned to idwtf.writing.comp@gmail.com no later than 6:00pm Australian Eastern Standard Time on, 29th of February 2012.
2. Stories must be in either .doc or .txt format.
3. Stories must be no longer than 800 words long.
4. The title of your story and one-sentence synopsis do not count toward your word limit.
5. I use Microsoft Word for the word count. If Word says the count is over, it's over. I will not hand count any more entries.
6. If you have italics or bolds within your story you must send it BBCode that way. I copy and paste and unless it is coded it does not carry over.

[azraelklk]

Oh Kool. I preferred this contest on this site so much more. The Cybertron's Core the contest is all I go there for so I end up forgetting about it every dang month.

I see no reason this can't be posted here.
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Anything I post may be printed.

[Kirjava]

Excellent description of the gestalt process in the second tale there!
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[Novastorm]

Been busy. Sorry.
Omega Prime is da winner!!!!!!!!
Congratualtions talented one and PM me with your choice of theme for next month
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I dont know you and yet I feel a kinship...kinship.

[skids]

Brilliant that its back

[Novastorm]

I really meant to post my comments on this month's entries sooner. Like two weeks ago sooner. Sorry.

Mayhem- An Old Wolf's New Trick
Frankly I am lost. I don't know either of the characters involved. But I did enjoy the narrative even though I thought parts were unclear.
Also mispellings abound. Should have been:
At the time he had not known about the pace maker.
Centuries passed and the original purpose...
...to flick free the connector cables like they were fleas.

Omega Prime- Monsters
Wow, this really was a fantastic way to introduce the comlexities of the gestalt mind. While it could have been very unclear and confusing it was well executed and conveyed brilliant and orginal ideas.

Thank you to all who particpated, I hope to see you again next month. I am nearing completion of my own entry for the new theme although it is clear I am out of practice, as I have not written anything in some time.

Thanks again and congrats to the particpants for being brave enough to enter and take comments and critiques as they come.
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I dont know you and yet I feel a kinship...kinship.

[Sprite]

I just sent you mine. ^^
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OK to print.
D&D/TMNT/MLP modding, avatar tech support and shattered trousers repair.

[skids]

Kudos to Omega Prime nice to see the Pretende rMonsters getting some page space.

Hopefully my entry is winging its way to Nova.

[azraelklk]

When does the new post? Can't wait for it!

Didn't send an entry myself thougfh. Just kept coming up blank on the theme.


Glad this is back though!
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Anything I post may be printed.