#but nooo he didn’t even consider getting to know my health history before making these remarks

[virtualmosshroom]

That doctor I saw the other day has made me so mad!!! And feeling hopeless

[ckret2]

Nom De Guerre

Prompt: In exchange for some art at TFCon, I promised @xraybeeb some DinoTrap! They’re still at the awkward pretending-they-don’t-like-each-other stage because, it turns out, I just wanted to write banter. Continuity: Beast Wars, some vague point post-transmetal and pre-Code of Hero. Pairing: Rattrap/Dinobot, but only faintly Wordcount: 2000 Summary: Dinobot wants to know what Rattrap’s name was back on Cybertron. Somehow that segues into Rattrap learning about Dinobot’s surprise Autobot idols.

Rattrap was almost back to base, at the end of his patrol, when he saw someone standing on top of the Axalon, silhouetted against the night sky. "Hey! What—?!" He skidded to a stop, transforming and looking up at the mysterious bot. "Who—? Oh. HEY, CHOPPERFACE!"

Dinobot's gaze lowered from the stars to Rattrap.

"Stop melodramatically stargazin'! It's so dark out, I thought you were a Predacon!" He paused. "... A different Predacon!"

Faintly, Dinobot yelled back, "Come and make me stop!"

"I'm n—"

"Unless you're a coward!"

Rattrap let out a long sigh that he hoped was loud enough for Dinobot to hear from the top of the ship. And then commed Optimus. "Hey, boss bot—I'm back from patrol, buuut I'm not comin' in just yet. Dinobot's on top of the ship and I've gotta go wittily banter him to death. If I start screamin', send backup."

It took a couple of minutes for Rattrap to find a route to scale the Axalon and reach Dinobot's position. Dinobot wasn't even waiting for him—he was sitting cross-legged on the far side of the ship, facing away. "Okay, reptile. Challenge accepted and defeated. Now get off the stupid—"

"What did you go by," Dinobot said, "back on Cybertron?"

Rattrap stopped, staring at Dinobot's back. "... Did you call me all the way up here just t'ask me my real name?!"

"No. I started wondering while waiting for you to laboriously scale the ship."

"Ooh, you condescendin'..." Rattrap muttered invectives as he stomped up behind Dinobot. "I oughta kick you off the side."

"I would be delighted to see you try."

Of course, he didn't. Instead, he stopped beside Dinobot, surveying the view. Eh. It wasn't bad, he supposed.

"Rattletrap."

Dinobot looked at him, clearly waiting for him to elaborate; but Rattrap didn't know what elaboration he wanted, so he said what anyone would say after introducing their name: "Nice t'meet you."

Dinobot snorted, shoulders jerking.

Rattrap sat down beside Dinobot, legs stretched out in front of him. "I know, it's just one syllable off from what I got now." Rattrap had no idea what Dinobot's basis of comparison was—he didn't know what any of the Darksyde’s crew had gone by, aside from the fact that their illustrious and big-headed leader had been alias "Megatron" for decades—but out of the original Axalon crew, Rattrap had stayed closer to his original name than any of the other Maximals. "But, eh—I'm attached to my name, y'know? Rattletrap suits me. It's..." He trailed off. He'd never had to describe his name before; it was like trying to describe his own transformation sequence.

"Unreliable? Rickety? In poor health?"

"Unassumin'," Rattrap snapped. "You can get a whole lot done while people are busy underestimatin' you because you've got a name that makes you sound like a jalopy."

"Your very name is an act of subterfuge." Dinobot sniffed disdainfully and looked away from Rattrap at last, surveying the quiet night. "Dishonorable. But, I suppose, effective. For someone like you."

"Tch, you flatterer." Rattrap leaned back, settling himself on his elbows. Oh yeah, this was gonna be a long banter. He could feel it. "How 'bout you? Who were you on Cybertron?"

"Dinobot."

Rattrap gave him a surprised look. "No kiddin'? Before you were a 'raptor?"

"Yes. My organic beast mode was fortuitous. In fact I named myself Dinobot long ago."

Named himself. Huh. "I figure you're named after...?"

"The Dinobots who fought at the end of the Great War, yes. I consider them my role models."

"Really!" Rattrap scooted over so he could roll onto one side, giving Dinobot his full attention. "You don't say! Oh, I want to hear all about how the Dinobots are role models."

"You mock me."

"Nooo. Me? Never," Rattrap said mockingly.

Dinobot snarled at him. "The Dinobots are consummate warriors! They are aggressive, direct, indefatigable—"

"Probably don't know what 'indefatigable' means."

Dinobot swiped threateningly at Rattrap. "Honest. Fearless. Loyal to their own, and they make no pretenses of loyalty to those they don't consider their own. And they carried those ideals with them everywhere—no matter in whose company they found themselves, and no matter how little others understood their ideals."

And something about the way Dinobot said that made Rattrap uncomfortably aware of how much he was one of those people who didn't get Dinobot's ideals. Not, he reminded himself, that he wanted to get them—they were, after all, Predacon ideals—but, still... Still. Still.

Had to be lonely, Rattrap supposed.

"They embody a nobility of character which I can only aspire to match," Dinobot concluded.

Rattrap nodded slowly, taking in that analysis. "... They're also dumber than a bag of rocks."

He expected another swipe for that. Instead, Dinobot said, wryly, "You'll notice that, in listing their virtues, I did not include intelligence."

Rattrap laughed. "Okay! Okay, fair," he said. "You uh—you do know that your heroes were also Autobots, right?"

Dinobot gave Rattrap an exasperated look. And then sat up straighter. "What are you—? Stop posing like that! You look ridiculous!"

"Wha—?" At some point, as Rattrap listened to Dinobot wax poetic about Dinobots, he had ended up laying on his side with one hand propping up his cheek and the other arm draped across his waist. He did look ridiculous. Flustered, he sat straight up again. "I— W— Don't change the topic! What kinda role models are a pack of Autobots for a big bad Pred, huh?"

"You insult them by calling them Autobots." Dinobot was back to staring at the horizon, refusing to look at Rattrap. "Perhaps they wore the Autobot badge—but they were never given Autobot coding. In behavior—in spirit—although they fought for the Autobots, in their sparks they were Decepticon."

"They tell you that themselves, or are you just projectin'?"

"Have you nothing else to contribute but critical snark?!"

"Well I can't contribute saucy poses anymore, can I?" But all right, maybe he should tone it down. This was... actually an intriguing side to Dinobot. The Predacon that venerates Autobots.

Dinobot gave him a dark look. "They were detested by their teammates. Loathed. That's not projecting."

Rattrap swallowed a half dozen snappy replies. "Yeah? I heard they were hard to get on with, but..."

"It's the truth. The Autobots who fought alongside them distrusted them. They saw them as burdens—mere berserkers to be unleashed on the enemy, and then tolerated and contained until the next battle. They were utilized for their innate combat capabilities without being respected for them. In many ways... the Autobots' treatment of the Dinobots was a model for the Maximals' later treatment of Predacons."

Once again, Rattrap felt far more conscious than he wanted to be of how little he knew about what went on in Dinobot's head—in Dinobot's life—or any other Predacon's, for that matter. True, he still didn't want to know the first thing about what regularly passed through, say, Megatron's mind, or Waspinator's, or—eesh—Tarantulas's—but... times like this, when Rattrap was being honest with himself, he kinda felt like he was missing out on something, not being able to guess what Dinobot was thinking.

... He didn't want to linger on that for too long. "So. Who's your fave?"

"Grimlock!" Dinobot said it instantly, as though he'd been just waiting to be asked. "The greatest fighter! Before I permanently adopted the nom de guerre 'Dinobot,' for years I went by 'Grim' in his honor."

"It suits ya." Maybe it didn't suit him right then, though—he was gushing like a newbuild talking about their favorite pop star.

"He should h—thank you." Dinobot actually sounded like he meant it. (He probably hadn’t heard that before, had he? What kind of nerve did he have to have to be a Predacon among Predacons going by an Autobot’s name? Rattrap was beginning to suspect that Dinobot had been lonely long before he’d surrounded himself by Maximals.) "He should have assumed the mantle of Autobot leadership. There was an opportunity, when Optimus Prime fell in combat to Megatron. The Autobots should have recognized that, with the Decepticons in full control of Cybertron and the Autobots only holding back a few off-world garrisons, they were in desperate need of a new style of leadership. The Matrix of Leadership should have been offered to Grimlock—he would have ruled the Autobots as a warrior-king!"

"And... this woulda been a good thing or a bad thing for your Decepticon ancestors?"

"Ah—well..." Dinobot shrugged, an uncharacteristically casual gesture, and quickly moved on. "Whoever won, he would at least have shown the Decepticons more respect than the likes of Rodimus Prime. Which is the same reason he wasn't selected. The Autobots could no more appreciate Grimlock's virtues than they could a Decepticon—for they, unlike he, were not born warriors. For all their combat training, they were mere..." he let out a lizardy snarl of derision, "cccivil ssservants."

"Aaand..." Oh, Rattrap was having too much fun with this. "Assumin' he did get the Matrix, what was his name gonna be?"

Without hesitation, Dinobot replied, "Tyrannimus Prime." He raised his voice over Rattrap's peals of laughter. "Stop that! I didn't come up with it!"

"Wh-who did?!" Rattrap was flat on his back laughing. "Oh—oh, man—don't tell me you Preds have worked out all the details of a whole alternate history where Grimlock lead the Autobots!"

Dinobot was silent for an embarrassingly long time. And then mumbled, "It's not just Predacons—"

Rattrap cracked up again.

The stars in his peripheral vision were blocked; Dinobot was walking away. Rattrap immediately stopped laughing. "H-hey!" He rolled over, got to his feet, and trotted after Dinobot. "Hey, come back, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. It's—it's just surprising to me—and I mean, maybe I don't get it, but—hey, everyone's got hobbies."

Dinobot didn't stop.

Rattrap sighed. Oh, boy, he'd messed that up. How was he gonna fix this? "... I learned to fight from Arcee."

Dinobot stopped walking.

"Dunno how much you know 'bout Maximals, but we still get mandatory military training. In case..." Even though Dinobot wasn't looking, Rattrap gestured vaguely in the direction of the Darksyde. "In case. I was under... pfft, I don't remember his name now. One of the Protectobots. But I wanted to learn from Arcee. I fought tooth 'n' claw to get that transfer."

"Arcee," Dinobot said slowly, "is one of the finest warriors the Autobots ever produced."

"And unassumin'," Rattrap said. "The kinda person you underestimate until it's too late."

Finally, Dinobot turned back to Rattrap. "I have heard tales of her kindness, gentleness, and civility—right up until she eliminates her enemy. Are they true?"

"All true," Rattrap nodded. "She was the sweetest 'bot you'd ever meet—'til she wasn't."

"Hmmm." Dinobot surveyed Rattrap critically. "She taught you so little."

"'Ey!" He elbowed Dinobot. Good, they were back to normal. "Siddown and look at the stars again, reptile breath, I'm already sick of lookin' up at you."

Dinobot bent over and snorted in Rattrap's face—Rattrap made exaggerated gagging sounds—but he did march back to his original spot and sit again. "I don't relish the idea of you looking down at me, either. Sit."

Rattrap flopped back down. "As you command, Tyrannimus."

Dinobot shoved him over as Rattrap laughed. But it was, for Dinobot, a gentle shove. Rattrap should call him Tyrannimus more often. Maybe not around the others; that'd take a little too much explaining. "Either be quiet or tell me more about Arcee."

"Fine, fine! Whaddaya wanna know?"

"Is it true that she paints herself with energon?"

"You know—I was always a little too scared to ask."

"Well, what did she smell like?"

"Excuse me?"

"You can tell if paint is energon-based from how it smells when it's warm, and Cybertronian bodies are almost always warm enough to activate the—"

"Why do you know this?"

It was another half hour before they were interrupted by Silverbolt, who had, apparently, been sent outside to ensure that Dinobot and Rattrap hadn't been kidnapped by Predacons and/or quietly murdered each other. By the time they were back inside, Dinobot was already radiating a surly "don't touch me, speak to me, or acknowledge that I possess a corporeal form on this mortal plane" aura; nobody spoke until he'd disappeared down the hall to his quarters.

Once he was well out of audial shot, Optimus asked Rattrap what in the world had kept them outside so long.

Rattrap shrugged. What had they talked about, really? Dinobots and alternate history and basic training? "He wanted to know my real name."

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[dustbunny105]

Gonna do my live reactions to MtMtE Revolution and LL #1 in a couple posts so I’m not flooding the tags with old stuff, I’m sure everyone’s devastated, yadda yadda, HERE WE GO, GIMME THE CRANKDATE.

I’m not even gonna lie, this cracked me up. I’m still laughing. I love this brand of irreverence, Idk.

Aaand turns out that’s the back cover. How tf did I end up there?? Well, whatever, still laughing and now at the beginning of the book.

Okay, first and foremost, I need a series about The Big Conversation, I’m not even kidding. I already wanted more of it, now I want all of it. I especially want o see the losers behind these screen names. Assuming that “Cons4Eva” and “TILL ALL ARE CON” aren’t real names, because I would not put it past the Decepti “let’s use our sigil for freaking everything regardless of whether it’s appropriate or in good taste” cons.

The progression of Crankcase’s interactions with his chat buddy is freaking adorable, don’t touch me.

Also, I spent most of it wondering why Con4Eva’s icon was wearing a domino opera mask before realizing it was an infinity sign. Cute.

Grimlock is cuter than a giant robot dinosaur rampaging through a strange town (speaking of-- what?) has any right to be.

Idk if MP3 is an established Joe, as I’ve never been much into the Joes, and I also dk what I think of him. Like, he’s kinda cute, kinda too much?

Why did I laugh at this so hard.

Omg, is that who I think it is... WHAT ARE YOU FOOLS EVEN DOING?

Yep, that’s who I thought it was alright... I repeat my previous question.

I wonder if they named themselves or if the holoform program gave them those names. Because on the one hand, I wouldn’t have expected them to come up with passable names on their own, but on the other hand, those names are also better than I’d expect from the program.

n a similar note, re: Spinister being called Dennis-- is the program still “struggling with human gender” or is it just doing better at human gender than a lot of humans?

Honestly, I’m surprised to realize that that babbling bunch of speech bubbles there is Spinister’s, not Misfire’s.

Incidentally, where is the Crankdate? I feel cheated.

OMHG WHY THE WINDSHIELD WIPERS. WHY THE CUP HOLDERS. DID YOU SIT AND HASH THIS OUT OR???

No, seriously, they were so eager to show off the helmets. They were totally waiting for a cue. They totally put thought into those features.

Why does Misfire know the phrase raison d’etre. How much thought did he put into this operation. What is even going on.

Omg, are they presenting their alt mode bodies as their vehicles. Why does that tickle so much?

Crankdate preparations! Yes, very good, this is what I’m here fo-- IS HE WEARING A REPLICA MEGATRON HELMET, OMG, DO THEY MANUFACTURE THESE FOR SALE.

I’m honestly not sure if it’s better if these Megatron helmets are sold on the market or if Crankcase made this one/someone made it for him. I also am not sure what “better” means here.

Wait, this isn’t a Crankcase line? I’m legitimately shocked. Look, I even wrote out the entire word legitimately, that’s how legitimately shocked I am.

For real, though, what’s Krok’s problem? Fulcrum wasn’t even talking to him, he was answering Crankcase’s question and Crankcase’s personal appearance. Like, did Krok suggest the helmet, is that why he’s so defensive?

Also, “Says the Decepticon with a chin the size of Luna-2.” If they’re gonna keep going on about Fulcrum’s chin, I wish he’d be drawn with, y’know, a more distinct-looking chin. Get Derrick J Wyatt on him or something.

Does Fulcrum seem kinda skeptical/judgy about this online dating meet-up thing or is it just me?

... The Big Conversation. Ongoing series. Now.

Fff, this is really cute :,D

Okay, I straight-up cackled. I feel like a lot of the fandom forgets that Fulcrum is a xenophobe when it comes to organic races and so having it laid out like this pleases me muchly. Also, I mean. It’s awful but still. Humans are kinda gross and we’d probably be super-gross to robots, let’s be real.

FFF, THIS IS. REALLY CUTE.

Yeeeah, Fulcrum is totally skeptical/judgy about this online dating meet-up thing, energon goodies or no.

Also, come on. Are you seriously asking me to believe that Con4Eva is not a name that would be found somewhere in the annals of Decepticon history, come on. Granted, it is still pretty weird that Crankcase seems puzzled by the idea that Cons4Eva is not a real name when he himself uses a screen name.

Pause.

Soften his face? Soften-slash-hide his face? I THOUGHT THEY WERE TRYING TO COVER THE MASSIVE FREAKING HOLE IN HIS HEAD, BUT KROK IS JUST WORRIED ABOUT HIS SCOWL??

... A-are these stories taking place at the same time. Do they seriously not realize that the three most conspicuous members of their crew have run off? I realize this date is important but, YOU GUYS.

"Be who you are. Within reason, obviously.” That is so this title.

Aww, that’s cute in a misguided kind of wa--iiit a minute. Wha--

I. This. I don’t. It’s like. I know all of these words individually but here they are together and I just. Can’t. What.

Also of note is “tasteful kibble”. What exactly qualifies as tasteful kibble? I mean, is this in line with “minimal kibble”? Interesting, if so, that lack of kibble is apparently widely considered attractive as long as you’re not a monoformer.

IS THAT FREAKING THUNDERWING, WTF. CRANKCASE, WHAT.

Er. Come again...?

Yeeep, I’m cringing. On the bright side, I think I’m supposed to be.

I still don’t know what I think of MP3 but I’ve decided I feel bad for him. Having to follow those cool, sophisticated aircraft in a junky van. And not doing such a good job of it, apparently.

Plus, I mean, the van breaks down and he decides to sit out the whole mission? Like, he remembers he’s trying to find a giant robot dinosaur causing massive damage to people and property, yes? Though I guess there’s not really room to ride along with either of them, so... Idk, still weird.

THE HELMETS OFF. I’M SCREECHING. I’M SCREECHING MY LAST SCREECH, AFTER THIS SURELY FOLLOWS DEATH, I CAN’T. MISFIRE, FFS, YOU HAVE A HUMAN-LOOKING FACE ALREADY, WHY THIS.

Aww, look at poor Crankcase, though :(

*Neil deGrasse Tyson voice* Watch out, we got a bada--

Well then. I rescind my sarcasm. Those, uh. Those are some powerful nibbles.

Pft, I though Krok and Fulcrum were holding hands for a second there.

Seriously, though, they left Crankcase behind? For booting up cold, Krok, you were standing right next to him.

Ffs... And from the character wants to open a mental health clinic too :/

"Typical.” The way I’m imagining this whole bit being delivered is making me laugh but also I’m back to “poor Crankcase.” Dude just wanted a nice date with his chat beau ;;

I’m cackling. I approve this running gag.

What in the-- is that a Dire Wraith? Is that better or worse than Thunderwing?

... You didn’t. You guys, you didn't.

What am I saying, of course you did.

I know the Wraith is probably just calling him Grumpybox because they didn’t exchange names, but I want the Wraith to think that’s Crankcase’s name.

Is that a Russian thing?

And the context in which he talked about him didn’t tip you off...?

Everything about this is making me choke.

Still choking. Meta jokes get me every time, I swear.

Nnnnnd’awww, babyyyy ;~; Lookit that face, my heart. Even after this, he wants, uh... what’s-his-name to stay. Don’t go, Cons4Eva...

Listen, if you didn’t notice Grimlock literally breaking out through the hull of your ship...

Nnnooo, don’t do this D:

Aw, no, did Spinister and Misfire kill MP3?

Uh... huh. Listen, Misfire, Idk when exactly you tripped over a conscience that encompasses squishy people, but I still don’t think you’re really in any position to be throwing stones.

That feeling, though.

This face is killing me ;;

Aaand I’m cringing again. At least, again, I’m probably supposed to be.

This is really cute, but... why? Idk, I feel like we were cheaped on some relationship-establishing interactions here.

Aww, that was quite a feelings dump. I’ve decided I like MP3.

More meta jokes, yasss~

Extensional beat-boxing. And it’s working.

My heeeart. Cons4Eva, don’t gooo.

Wow, rude.

Couldn’t Cons4Eva just shift to get through there anyway? Not that I want him to, of course, but still.

Okay, you’re pushing it now... I say as I’m laughing anyway.

Cuuute <3

Nooo, stay with Crankcase >(

On the one hand, poor MP3. Getting left behind like that after being invited has to suck. On the other hand, he just dodged a bullet, let’s be real. They would’ve accidentally killed him within a week, tops. Or Spinister and Misfire would’ve used him to pull some prank on Fulcrum and Fulcrum would’ve very deliberately killed him.

Within a week. Tops.

Okay, so. Huh. I dunno. I felt a lot of things about individual things while I was reading, but looking back at the whole... I dunno. It was kinda cute, it was pretty fun, there were some gross parts. I sort of get the feeling that the bRos were more interested in having a good time together than anything else. Which is fine by me in theory, honestly, especially in a case like this, but that makes three MtMtE finales (well, “finales”) that were ultimately underwhelming.