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lostinfic · 6 years ago

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Treat, please. Will x Holly. "You're wearing my sweater." + Game Night.

Game Night. 1 / 2

Pairing: Will Burton (The Escape Artist) x Holly Shawcross(True Love)

Rating:Teen

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Will and Holly are part of a group of friends whomeet every week to play board games. Although there is more than friendship growing between them, their pasts prevent them from acting on their feelings.

A/N: I also wrote a fem!Will x Holly version of thisprompt: Sweater Weather

Some details might escape you if you haven’t seen the shows, but I think you can still enjoy the story.

○ Trick or treat prompts

○ All my autumn fics

Available on Ao3

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“You don’t have to do that,” Will said as Holly washed the glasses used by their friends.

“It’s no bother.”

He cleared the table and threw away empty bags of crisps and pretzels.

“How was your week?”

She interpreted his question as a sign that he didn’t mind her staying after the others had left.

Holly worked part time at an immigration center, teaching English to newcomers. As Will wiped crumbs off the table, she told him about a teenage Somalian refugee who drew comic strips of his journey to England. She’d put him in contact with a gallery where she’d once exhibited her own work.

“Did you paint anything new this week?” Will asked.

“Yeah. Christmas cards. I need to stock up my online shop in time for Cyber Monday.”

“But you loved painting Autumn stuff.”

“I know, I really did.” She pouted.

She washed another glass, and Will sided up to her with a towel to dry it.

“I nearly drank my paint water again this week.”

“I told you to stop using that mug.” He bumped her with his shoulder.

“But I love it!” She bumped him back with her hip.

He shook his head fondly.

She asked about his own week, she remembered he had a meeting with a new client yesterday. He lost his smile.

“The man’s a serial drunk driver and he’s killed someone because of it, and I swear his breath smelled of gin when we met.”

“Jesus. Did he drive to the appointment?”

“Thank God, no. His solicitor got him to start the 12-Step Program.”

“That’s good. There’s hope.”

He nodded, his lips in a tight smile.

“You must think I’m naive,” Holly said.

“No, no, but he’s probably only doing it to get a reduced sentence.” Belatedly, he added, “But I think it’s great that you still have faith in people.”

“I have to. Don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. He had seen too much in his career. That lost puppy look in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings.

She had to believe people could make amends and change, otherwise there was no hope for her after what she’d done. And what he’d done.

She wondered if he knew that she’d slept with one of her students, the way she knew he’d killed his wife’s murderer, by unearthing five-year old headlines on Google. They’d both moved elsewhere, to Cambridge, to put it all behind, so she never brought up the subject, never asked him if he really did it. Who they were now was all that mattered.

“I think some people can become better persons,” he finally admitted.

She touched his arm lightly, a shy show of support, and he surprised her by putting his hand over hers. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, and her arm goose-pimpled from the contact.

She loved these moments, when it was just the two of them and they talked about more personal things, unlike when the others were around.

Will and Holly were part of a group of eight friends who played board games every week. Lately, when the game was at Will’s, she made sure to arrive a little early and found some excuse to stay after the others had left.

Will had joined the group six months ago (one of their members had a baby and couldn’t come to their weekly games anymore so he introduced Will as his replacement). Maybe it was a professional quirk, Holly was a teacher after all, but she immediately took him under her wing, explaining the rules and the inside jokes, and going out of her way to include him in the group. She was only being nice, but somewhere along the way being nice turned into being infatuated.

Jamie’s arrival from his football practice interrupted their moment. They jumped apart and quickly finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Will saw her to the door. The temperature had dropped significantly, and Holly was only wearing a thin raincoat.

“It’s alright,” she said, “the bus stop’s only two blocks away.”

“I don’t want you to catch something, I need you to win the next game. Here.” He removed his grey jumper and offered it to her.

Holly walked to the bus stop with her nose under the collar. Unlike her who shopped at charity shops, Will had the means to buy high quality clothes and this jumper was no exception, a blend of cashmere and wool as far as she could tell. She rubbed her cheek against it. His cologne lingered between the stitches, warm and woodsy, and with the smell of rain in the air, it reminded her of the forest in autumn.

She wore his sweater all week. It kept her warm when she painted or read with the windows open. She became so used to it that she still had it on when they met at Patrick’s house for the next game night. Will didn’t notice however. Even if it was half past seven, he’d obviously come straight from court and his brain was still occupied by work. His hair was messy as if he’d tugged on it.

He sat down next to her without a salutation, and pulled a pre-packaged cheese sandwich and a green apple out of his coat pockets.

Every other week, they played Dungeons & Dragons. Patrick— a stocky, dark-skinned accountant who’d initiated the game nights with his sister Sabrina— recapped their latest quest. Everyone organized their dice, figurines and character sheets on the dining room table. Everyone except Will who was munching absentmindedly on his stale sandwich.

“Will?” Patrick repeated.

He blinked out of his thoughts and looked around as if he’d forgotten where he was. “Uh?”

“That weapon you found at the cave, was it a knife or a sword?”

“In the game,” Jasna, another player, specified.

“Yeah, sorry, erm…” He looked through his notes and answered them.

“Long day?” Holly whispered to him.

“Aye.”

“Relax.” She leaned well into his personal space and loosened his tie.

He didn’t say a word, only turned his torso towards her, offering better access. She hadn’t planned on taking it all off, but now her fingers worked at the knot. The silky material glided under his collar and wrapped around her fist.

“You’re free from work now.”

As he took his tie from her hands, his fingers deliberately brushed against hers.

“Are you wearing my jumper?”

“Have been since I got here.” She chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll give it back to you.”

“There’s no rush.”

Holly’s character was a Wizard and Will’s a Rogue. Because they always sat next to each other, they often separated from the rest of the gang to conduct their own mission. They made a good team. Will was a great strategist, always a step ahead of everyone, even the Dungeon Master. He would lean towards Holly, and whisper to her their next move. Her own strength was thinking outside the box, using her character’s spells in creative ways.

“Holly, you can’t use the Glyph of Warding that way,” Patrick said.

Will put on his glasses and looked through the Player’s Handbook. “Objection.”

Patrick groaned.

Will recited the description of the spell, “You inscribe a glyph that harms other creatures, either upon a surface or within an object that can be closed to conceal the glyph. Did you not say just 10 minutes ago that Mordenkainen closed the portal? Accordingly…”

“Why are you always defending her and not us?” Sabrina asked.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Holly’s weakness. It’s why she’d had an affair with a married man, an underage student and an older woman who called her her Muse. If they made her feel just a little special… But he was a widower, a single father and a workaholic, but she could feel it, like the pull of the undercurrent before a big wave. She was wary of that pull now— three years of therapy had taught her that at least—, but the more she resisted it, the more delicious it was. And really, it didn’t help that he wore such tight jeans.

Sometimes, she drew their D&D characters together.

“Holly, here’s what I’ll do, if Modenkainen is still in this plane, you can use the glyph on his portal.” Patrick rolled a pair of twenty-side die. “And you got it. Damn it.”

Holly and Will high-fived.

The game continued as they ate junk food, drank cider and generally drove Patrick crazy with their antics. “You can’t drug the elves to get in the castle!”

“What was the point of going all the way to Yesterhill to get these pastries, then?”

“I didn’t make you go there. By the way, Jerome, did you hide your tail?”

“Yeah, I shoved it up me arsehole.”

The whole table burst out laughing.

By the end of the night, they’d reigned in their hilarity enough to defeat a dragon and a horde of banshees.

“Same time next week,” Jasna said as she put on her coat. “It will be Halloween, so you’d all better dress up. Just kidding.”

Much to Holly’s surprise, Will offered her a ride home even though her flat wasn’t on his way.

Street lights glistened on the rain-sleek pavement and the wind carried dead leaves across the road. The full moon shone a warm, benevolent yellow over the river Cam.

Although they were silent, the car was brimming with some kind of energy. Will nearly missed a red light even if his eyes were trained on the road, Holly kept squirming on her seat, and they repeatedly snuck glances at each other. He missed the exit for her neighborhood, and they had to drive a while longer. She didn’t mind. She wanted him to keep driving. All night. Anywhere, out of town. They’d talk of nothing and everything.

He stopped in front of her building and killed the engine. She unbuckled her seat belt but didn’t leave the car. She didn’t want to have to wait a whole week before seeing him again.

“So…” he said.

“We’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Not at all. Oh! I have something for you.”

He reached for something on the back seat and handed her a paper bag. She unwrapped a set of mugs labelled “paint water” and “not paint water”.

“I saw them in a craft store window. Thought of you.” He tugged on his earlobe, watching her reaction. “Do you like them?”

Holly didn’t know what to say. It made her so happy that he’d thought of her. She cradled the mugs to her chest and nodded. She remembered something Karen had once said, that she wanted someone who would love “all her nerdy little things”. Holly had found that someone.

She tentatively leaned over the gear stick to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head at the same time and her lips landed right on the corner of his mouth. They both laughed nervously.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

“I should give you back your jumper.”

She took off her scarf and raincoat. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she gripped the hem of the sweater; she caught the hem of her tank top as well and pulled it all up over her head.

Will’s eyes widened when he saw her bra. Her chest heaved with quick breaths.

“Holly…” He swallowed thickly. “You’ll get cold.”

And she did, for his rejection was like a bucket of iced water to the face.

“Right.” She hastily put her raincoat back on and rushed outside the car with a mumbled goodbye.

Part 2

#lots-o-huggindoctor #meanwhileinpetesworld #Teninch fic #Will x Holly #Lostinfic writes stuff #autumn prompts #fluff and angst #I guess they're both geeks #because they're playing Dungeons & Dragons #game night fic

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sexdatingenjoy276 · 3 years ago

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flauntpage · 6 years ago

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Your Full Thanksgiving NFL Betting Guide

If you have been thinking about getting in on New Jersey’s legal sports betting action, but have not yet done so, then I can think of no better time to get involved than Thanksgiving Day. With three pivotal NFL games featuring six NFC teams (Bears-Lions, Redskins-Cowboys, Falcons-Saints) on tap, it’s the perfect opportunity to add a little intrigue to your holiday gathering. I mean, if you’re going to sit around and have a bunch of conversations that you’re really not that interested in, then you might as well fire up a mobile sportsbook app and get a taste of the spread. And with the great promos and sign-up bonuses being offered from throughout the weekend, you will be thankful that you did.

I know, the puns, I’m sorry. They were there, and I had to do it.

Without further ado, let’s take a look at what some of the New Jersey sportsbooks are serving up this Thanksgiving and deep dives into each of the actual games to find where there is value in the lines. OK, I’m done with the puns for real now.

The action

Note: All betting lines are as of 9:00 a.m. Wednesday morning and are subject to change. In fact, they most certainly will change.

I made this chart tracking the current lines and values across the major online legal sportsbooks for each of Thursday’s three NFL games. It even has some pretty Thanksgiving artwork. Enjoy.

The specials

DraftKings

Now is a good time to get involved with our partner DraftKings Sportsbook. They are giving new users a $50 free bet upon registration this weekend. No nonsense. No risk. No deposit required. And, of course, get your first bet matched instantly up to $200.

SugarHouse Sportsbook

As always, new users will receive a 100% match on initial deposits up to $250. Current users can also take advantage of SugarHouse’s deposit match between now and Friday where they will tack on 25% up to $50 in 1x bonus money. SugarHouse has yet to divulge specific details of other promos, but they have told us to stay tuned for boosts, risk-free bets, and other sports offers. SugarHouse is the easiest and quickest way to get signed up and playing.

FanDuel

FanDuel isn’t exactly telling us what they have in store, but they plan to offer special promos via their “Thanksgiving Spread” throughout the weekend, including mystery odds boosts on Black Friday. Looks appetizing.

BetStars NJ

As always, BetStars offers a generous $50 free bet with no deposit and a $500 sign-up bonus, and a lucrative Parlay Bonus:

But you can also enjoy their Black Friday Boosts that run all the way through Cyber Monday.

Visit the BetStars homepage at noon on Black Friday for your first offer, and come back every hour between 12-4 p.m. to get Odds Boosts on the biggest sporting events.

888sport NJ

888sport NJ will give you $10 just for signing up with no deposit required, but if you sign up, they, too, offer an enticing bonus of up to $500.

Also be sure to check out 888sport NJ’s NCAA Basketball Challenge that will double payouts on parlays of at least 3 bets and odds of -200 or higher on college basketball games.

Trends to know

Chicago (7-3) at Detroit (4-6), 12:30, CBS

Photo credit: Quinn Harris-USA TODAY Sports

The day’s first game kicks off in the Motor City where the Bears will look to tighten their hold on the NFC North a week after an important 25-20 win over the Vikings. Chicago rolled Detroit two weeks ago at Soldier Field after Mitch Trubisky threw for 355 yards and three scores to back a defense that limited the Lions to only 305 yards of total offense. This time around, however, the Bears may be without Trubisky after he suffered a shoulder injury against Minnesota. He was downgraded to doubtful and head coach Matt Nagy sounds uncertain that his starting quarterback will be available.

The Bears aren’t the only team with injury concerns ahead of this contest. Marvin Jones will miss another game, and running back Kerryon Johnson is out with a knee injury.

As of Wednesday morning, 59% of spread bets are on Chicago, but only 52% of the money backs the Bears. Some sharp money is on Detroit.

The Bears have been hot lately, going 4-1 both straight-up and against the spread over the last five weeks, and the over has been hot in their games as well, hitting in six of the last seven contests. The Lions, despite a disappointing 4-6 overall record, are 6-4 ATS. Aside from their Week 10 setback in Chicago, they have been excellent against the Bears in recent years and are 6-2 ATS at home against them dating back to 2010.

One more thing: Detroit has gone 4-1 ATS and straight-up on Thanksgiving since 2013.

Prediction: Frankly, with the injuries creating so much uncertainty leading up to this game, I’m not sure how you’re supposed to bet on it. If Chase Daniel is playing quarterback, then I’m 100% out on Chicago, even with that defense. Since I don’t know, and I’m on a deadline, I’m backing Detroit at home with the points. But you could also save three hours and bet on the coin toss.

Those looking to get the best value on the Bears should head to FanDuel and grab them without the hook at -3 (-110). Those liking the Lions coming off their surprising Week 11 win over the Panthers can save a few dollars in price at BetStars where they are +3.5 (-105).

As for the totals, those who want the over can grab it anywhere because it’s at 44 (-110) across the board, except at FanDuel where it’s 44.5. If you’re on the under, head there and grab the half-point.

Washington (6-4) at Dallas (5-5), 4:30, FOX

Photo credit: Brad Mills-USA TODAY Sports

This is a huge game in the wide-open NFC East. The Redskins cling to a one-game lead over a resurgent Cowboys team that was left for dead this time two weeks ago. But in order to remain atop the division they will need to win on the road with backup quarterback Colt McCoy. Considering the Redskins weren’t exactly what anyone would call an explosive offense prior to Smith’s injury and that head coach Jay Gruden asks fairly little of his quarterback in terms of making explosive plays, losing Smith may not be the knockout blow many figure it to be. Although McCoy doesn’t have any exceptional qualities as a signal-caller, he’s one of the better backups in the league, and it’s not a stretch to think he can step in and replace Smith as a game manager. The real issue for Washington will be keeping him clean against an underrated Dallas defense. Behind a decimated offensive line a week ago, Smith and McCoy were sacked five times by the Texans defense.

Washington knocked off Dallas at FedEx Field back in late October after throttling the Cowboys’ rushing attack. Ezekiel Elliott was held to only 33 yards on 15 carries, and his longest run of the day went for only six yards. Dak Prescott has played better the past two weeks in the wake of the Amari Cooper’s arrival, but it’s been Elliott that’s really led the way, and it will be imperative for the Redskins keep him in check once again.

At the time of this post, only 41% of spread bets are on Washington, but 59% of the money backs the Redskins, so it’s clear the big-money gamblers like getting the points in this division contest.

The Cowboys are only 15-25-1 ATS under Jason Garrett as a favorite when they are coming off a win the previous week, including 0-1 ATS when they lost at Washington. Dallas, meanwhile, is 0-7 ATS and only 3-4 straight-up on Thanksgiving since 2011. And finally, the Cowboys are a woeful 4-16 ATS over their past 20 games when favored by more than a touchdown ,and that really shouldn’t come as a surprise because lines get pumped up any time Dallas looks like a functionally operational team.

Prediction: Given the Cowboys’ ability to get Ezekiel Elliott going over the past two weeks, I’ll reluctantly pick them to outlast an injury-ravaged Redskins squad at home, but is this team really, truly all that much different than the one that was about to have dirt shoveled on it two weeks ago? They beat two bad (and overrated) teams in the Eagles and Falcons. Now they’re a 7.5-point favorite? No thanks. I’ll take the points.

The Redskins are reeling after losing starting quarterback Alex Smith to a gruesome leg injury last Sunday, but those looking to back the NFC East leader against the Cowboys should head to DraftKings or SugarHouse where you can get the hook at +7.5 (-117). If you think the resurgent Cowboys will roll to their third-straight win, then BetStars is the place to be with Dallas at -7 (-110).

Atlanta (4-6) at New Orleans (9-1), 8:20, NBC

Photo credit: The Daily Advertiser-USA TODAY N

If you’ve ever stood at a roulette table that’s on a run, you know it’s going to come to an end some time. That’s kind of how I look at the Saints right now. Since 2003, only nine teams, including the 2018 Saints, have covered eight-straight games ATS. Only one other team has won nine in a row while covering eight in a row. It’s been an impressive run, for sure.

Atlanta, meanwhile, limps into this game having lost on the road at Cleveland two weeks ago and was beat at the gun by Dallas last Sunday. At two games under .500, they need a win on Thursday night to keep their faint playoff hopes alive.

In terms of matchups, the Saints have dropped 45, 51, and 48 points the last three weeks and appear completely unstoppable. For the season, the Saints have already scored 40 or more points six times. Also of note, New Orleans’ near-bottom-of-the-league pass defense has played better in recent weeks. It held Carson Wentz under 200 passing yards and picked him off three times during last week’s rout.

Currently, only 34% of point-spread bets back the Falcons, but an overwhelming 70% of the money likes the idea of backing an underdog with some big names on offense in this divisional contest.

In terms of historical trends, there are two strong ones that will come into conflict in this game. Matt Ryan is 19-9 ATS in his career in night games, while the Saints are 16-6 ATS in night games at home since Drew Brees arrived in New Orleans. The Saints, however, have not been particularly good as a double-digit favorite under head coach Sean Payton, going 7-14 ATS.

It’s probably also worth considering the success of favorites on Thursday nights this season. They have gone a staggering 8-2-1 ATS, and favorites of six or more points are 14-3 ATS on Thanksgiving (this also works for Dallas) over the last 16 seasons.

Prediction: It’s really, really hard to pick against the Saints right now, but I have a difficult time getting over the fact that only two teams since 2003 have covered nine-straight games, just as I have a hard time overlooking that the Saints have beat the Falcons by 14 or more points only once since 2008. At the same time, do I want to back the Falcons, a team that constantly stumbles in big spots and failed to finish drives a week ago, against a Saints team that allows no margin for error? Yuck.

In terms of the total, these two teams combined to light up the scoreboard for 80 points back in Week 3, so a total of 60 seems pretty manageable this time around. But, and I have nothing to actually back this up, I’m a little weary of taking a big over in a night game only 72 hours after we just watched a 105-point game in Los Angeles on Monday night. And here’s something else to keep in mind: since 2003, the under has cashed at a 62% rate over a 267-game sample in games featuring division rivals with a total greater than 44 after Week 11.

I’ll take the under and hold my breath.

If you think the Saints can keep their impressive streak alive, then head to DraftKings, SugarHouse, or 888sport and grab them at -12.5 (-110). Those that think Atlanta can hang around with their division rival after back-to-back losses should roll with FanDuel at +13 (-115).

Those on the over should get it at FanDuel where it’s 59.5 (-110), and those on the under can grab it at BetStars where it’s set at 60 (-105).

If you or someone you know has a gambling problem and wants help, call 1-800 GAMBLER.

Full disclosure: We are an affiliate of legal New Jersey sports betting sites, so we may receive a commission if you use our links.

The post Your Full Thanksgiving NFL Betting Guide appeared first on Crossing Broad.

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giant-robotic-foxbox-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Transformers: Lurker in the Deep

Part One: Humbler and Humbler

Cybertron, Before the War

On the fringes of the Sea of Rust, cities with harbors conducted vast amounts of trade by the use of huge cargo transport ships. Crates loaded with goods such as energon or raw materials like stone or metal were carried into the many warehouses on the various wharfs composing these harbors. One of the busiest cities was Polyhex, which was completely surrounded by the Rust Sea. On wharf nine worked a quiet, unassuming giant by the name of-

“TRAPPER! Git yer aft over here now! We got a boat comin’ in hot!”

A blue and magenta colored mechanoid turned his head as he was called, wide yellow optics looking over to Winch. He jogged across the busy wharf, ducking under swinging cranes hefted by those with crane alternate modes and dodging around the forklifts. Trapper stopped just behind Winch, looking out at the cargo transport coming in. Whirling with his mouth open to yell again, Winch suddenly stopped as his optics went wide at the sight of Trapper.

“Gah! Say somethin’ when ya sneak up behind a guy, ‘Trap!”

“Sorry, boss,” Trapper muttered contritely, looking down at the ground. He jerked as Winch smacked his forehead.

“An’ no apologizin’! It’s a sign of weakness.”

“Yessir.”

“Bah…yer hopeless,” Winch grumbled as he turned to survey the incoming cargo ship. Winch transformed into a tow truck, which had its uses here and there. So the functionalist senate gave him the position of head docker. The ruling Senate assigned work based on the function of everyone’s alternate mode. So…once you got cast into a role…there wasn’t any getting out of it.

There were a couple different classes. The higher ones included jets and flying vehicles and some specialized scientific equipment. The middle ones were more of your ground pounders. Cars and wheeled things typically. The lower class included construction and labor specialized equipment and vehicles. Your miners and dock and construction workers.

Lower than them was the disposable class. Classified as basically useless by the Senate, they were the very bottom rung of alternate modes. They were treated more like things than people. They were still granted jobs here and there, but life was especially hard for them. Alternate modes like lunar modules or data slugs were included in this class, but so were the beast alternate modes. Like the one Trapper had.

Some mechs like Winch didn’t much care what class you were so long as you were a hard worker, and Trapper appreciated that. It was a rare quality. Most others…well.

“’Ey, ey! ‘Trap? Ya in there?” Winch rapped his fist across Trapper’s head a couple times, shaking the mech out of his thoughtful reverie. “Don’ go spacin’ out on me, ‘Trap. We got work ta do. Gonna need ya ta take the lower tiers today, an’ ah know, you don’ get along with those mechs too well, but ah need ya down there, ‘Trap.”

Trapper’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he managed a nod. Winch clapped him on the back with a wry smile before something tore his attention away. “’Ey, Portside! BE CAREFUL WIT DAT!” Winch stormed off to go fuss at the other dockers. Trapper moved off to the quayside and boarded the cargo ship, travelling down to its lower tiers.

When he got down to the bottommost tier, Trapper saw the mechs that he least wanted to see in the world. Pressure and his crew of stooges. He reflexively hid behind one of the cargo crates, offlining his optics. Trapper chided himself mentally and steeled his nerves. He had a job to do. Nothing would stop him from doing it.

Standing tall, Trapper strode out from his hiding place and attempted to walk past Pressure with his head held high. That plan backfired as Pressure, seeing him coming, had stuck out his foot right in Trapper’s path.

Thunk!

Trapper grunted softly as he hit the deck. Pressure erupted into a fit of high pitched cackling. The blue and magenta mechanoid did his best to ignore it and picked himself up off the deck. Or tried to at least. As soon as Trapper had got his hands and knees under him, a foot slammed into his back.

“Whoa, whoa! Where do you think you’re goin’?” Pressure asked. Trapper didn’t bother giving any answer, he just pushed against the foot pinning him down as he attempted to stand. This earned him a wallop to his side courtesy of one of Pressure’s cronies, Stern. “Did I say you could stand? No. I didn’t. See, this is where you belong. Crawling around in the dirt like a filthy animal.”

Trapper sighed inwardly. Summoning up the force of will to rise again, he managed to stand up fully and take a step in the direction of the crates that they were supposed to be unloading. Pressure, Stern and Prow swarmed him almost immediately. What Trapper registered happening next was a blur of darkness and pain.

“’EY! JUS’ WHAT DO YA SLACK JAWED IJITS THINK YER DOIN’?!” Trapper’s golden optics onlined to see Winch full of sound and fury, storming over in his direction. He scrambled backwards, nearly knocking over one of his assailants. Probably Prow.

“Nothing, boss! Trapper here just…uh...” Pressure spoke up, trying to fabricate a reason for the bestial mechanoid to be on the floor.

“Jus’ what?!” Winch snapped and without waiting for an answer, backhanded Pressure. “This is MY wharf. And so long as yer on it, I’ll have none o’ this. Do yer job, or Primus help me, I’ll throw ya to the piranacons!” Winch snapped his head around to stare fiercely at Trapper. “Trapper! On yer feet! Double time! We gotta git this scrap offa this boat in less than two breems or it’s leavin’ with or without us. C’mon, let’s move boys! Go, go, go!”

In a panicked frenzy, all four Cybertronians hastily scrambled to their feet and began to move the cargo with all due haste, Winch overseeing the affair. As Trapper hefted up the last cargo container and moved it outside onto the wharf, he turned sharply to set it down when he heard a heavy clunk.

Trapper’s optics widened, and he quickly set the crate down to see what he’d knocked into the Sea of Rust. It was Pressure. Pressure stared back up at him with a glare that could have shot lasers through reinforced steel.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Trapper! By Primus, I swear! You’re gonna pay!”

“Ha! That’s a good look fer ya, Pressure,” Winch said, coming up beside Trapper. He patted the blue and magenta mech on the back. “Ah, good work today, ‘Trap. Don’ let Pressure scare ya too much. He’s all bark an’ no bite.” Turning, Winch strode back to the main warehouse on the wharf to finish up the days paperwork. But Trapper wasn’t looking at him. He was still looking at Pressure, whose venomous gaze was now locked on Winch’s retreating back. He cast a worried glanced at his superior, but then noted the time and hurried off to his second job.

Nighttime, The Sea of Rust

Trapper strolled across the bottom of the Sea of Rust, setting up steel cages with energon cubes inside of them. Right now it was ‘low tide’ when the sea consolidated enough to walk around in without too much trouble. It was the best time to set and check traps. Trapper’s other job was actually functionally assigned one. He was pest control.

Some snarling and metallic clinking sound let him know that he’d caught one of those pests. He knelt down beside the trap and took a look at the furious piranacon inside. One of the Rust Sea’s most common inhabitants. They were non-sentient as classified by the Senate. Didn’t speak. This one had somehow gotten its head caught in what looked like a rather painful position in the cage.

Trapper opened the cage slightly, enough to stick his hand inside. The piranacon’s struggles renewed intensely as it tried to snap and bite at Trapper. Gently seizing the creature’s neck from behind and clamping its jaw shut with the other hand, he worked it free of the cage’s grip. Of course, as soon as he let go of its jaw, it bit down fiercely on one of his digits. Trapper yanked his hand away and pulled the beast free of the cage.

He turned it around and looked it in the eye. The piranacon knew what was coming. It glared at Trapper angrily as if to say, ‘Well? What are you waiting for?!’ Seizing the pest’s head in his bitten hand, he sharply twisted its neck and popped its head off cleanly in one fluid motion. Tossing its body into the trap, he set it up again. Piranacons were cannibalistic. It was just one way to conserve energon. Trapper moved on.

This is cathartic, Trapper mused as he watched a sharkticon assail a cage with a piranacon trapped squealing inside. The sharkticon halted in his assault of the cage when he noticed Trapper’s approach. It lunged at him. Sharkticons ranked somewhere above piranacons in sentience though they didn’t quite make the cut by the Senate’s standards.

Trapper leaned forward and tackled the sharkticon, grappling with it across the ground. This was a place of peace for Trapper. Solitude. Just him and the sharkticons and piranacons. He enjoyed it. It was his sanctuary. Few ever went into the Sea of Rust. Trapper slammed his fist into the side of the sharkticon’s massive head, stunning it. Drawing out a spear licensed to him by the Senate, he plunged it through the sharkticon’s open maw to whatever spark powered it.

Trapper always killed quickly. To minimize the suffering of his quarry. He knew how painful that kind of suffering could be. Waiting for one of the many painful blows to be the unfortunate, or fortunate, last one. He turned his gaze to the whimpering piranacon in the cage. The sharkticon had torn through some of the grating and had bitten a chunk out of it. He ended it quickly as well.

After more encounters like that, Trapper had completed his rounds about the time when the sea was beginning to liquefy. He climbed out of the sea and pulled himself onto the docks. Dusting the rust particles off as best he could, Trapper stood and looked out across the wharf. It was wharf nine. A door closing drew his attention over the warehouse.

Trapper blinked. It was Winch. Looking particularly irate. Well, it wasn’t any of his business. Trapper turned to begin the long walk home when Winch’s voice rang out across the empty pier like thunder.

“TRAPPER! THAT YOU?!”

Trapper flinched and looked over to Winch, waving slightly. Winch grinned widely and jogged over, smacking him on the back amiably. “Well looky here, it is you. Where ya headed, ‘Trap?”

“Home,” Trapper answered, looking at his boss uncertainly.

“Home? Hm…why don’ ya join me for some drinks, ‘Trap? I’m buyin’.”

Trapper shook his head in the negative when Winch clapped him on the back a couple more times. “Aw, c’mon, don’ gimme that. Jus’ a couple, ‘Trap.” It became increasingly clear that Winch was not going to take no for an answer. Trapper sighed again inwardly and shrugged, gesturing for Winch to lead the way.

“That’s the spirit! Ah know a great dive jus’-“

Nighttime, The Streets of Polyhex

“-an’ ‘fore ah knew it, he had rustled up- Oh, look, ‘Trap! We’re here.”

Trapper shook himself out of the mental coma that listening to Winch had put him in. He glanced around to find that he was in a part of Polyhex that he didn’t recognize. He looked up at a blue neon sign that read: Blue Stars Bar. Winch practically dragged him inside. Inside were many a downtrodden looking mech and some familiar faces too. Fellow dockers having a drink here and there.

Winch continued to drag him until they were both seated at the bar. Trapper would have personally chosen a booth tucked away in the corner of the bar. But as it was, here they were. Trapper sighed and glanced over to Winch, who had his hand raised in the air.

“Oy! Goldrush! Gimme two o’ the usual,” Winch called. Not long after, two drinks slid down the bar, one right into Trapper’s hand. He glanced down at the energon skeptically. Sliding his mouthplate back, he took a small sip of it. And nearly gagged. It had so many additives mixed into the low grade energon. His mouthplate slid back over his face as he glanced over to Winch who had, bafflingly, chugged his in one go and was lifting his hand for another.

Trapper watched in sickened amazement as Winch downed not one or two, but five in quick succession. After that Winch began to slow down and savor his drink a bit more, though that might have been because he noticed Trapper hadn’t yet finished his first. And then came the incessant talking. Talking about his life and other things that would once again put Trapper into a mental coma if he listened too closely. However, one tidbit did catch his attention.

“An’ look, ‘Trap. Ah been hearin’ things ‘bout…these…pits. Gladiatorial style fightin’. Jus’ rumors tho’. Sounds like a good time tho’. An’ it ain’t sanctioned by th’ Senate neither, so there’s no discrim’nation ‘bout alt modes. Oooh…ah see that look in yer optics. Don’ go chasin’ tall tales, ‘Trap. Senate would never let anythin’ like that last fer long. Wupah! Crackin’ down. Speakin’ o’ which, ya heard ‘bout the new ruling? Some construction alt modes are getting’ demoted down to th’ disposables. Poor glitches…It jus’ ain’t right.”

Trapper began to tune Winch out again as he went on his anti-functionalist rant. He didn’t feel especially comfortable about sitting next to someone who publicly denounced the Senate. Overenergized or not. He kept glancing at the door for some Polyhex police to burst in and arrest them both. None did, though it did very little to pacify Trapper.

After a long while, Winch finally looked like he’d had enough. He was holding as well as he could in his hands, looking awfully wobbly. “Oy…’Trap…ken…ken ya do me a favor an’ take…take me back ta th’ wharf? Ken…ken’t ‘member th’ way to mah place…” Trapper sighed and nodded, grabbing one of Winch’s arms and slinging across his shoulder. Winch glanced back at the barkeep and waved. “Put et…put et on mah tab…”

Pressing onward, Trapper all but carried Winch through the streets of Polyhex, trying to find his way back around to the wharf. He turned down an alley from a side street in the hopes that it would get him back to some kind of familiar territory. Only it was a dead end. In more ways than one.

As Trapper turned around to leave the alley, he was confronted by a group of mechs. And not just any mechs. Pressure and his crew along with a hulking bruisers and a smaller mechanoid. Trapper took an uncertain step back.

“There he is! The one that the big guy is holding! That’s the dissenter!” Pressure said, pointing to Winch. The two giant mechs approached with the smaller one leading the way.

“We are from the Polyhex Police Department. Turn over Winch to us, disposable,” the smaller one ordered.

Fear sparked through Trapper’s circuits. He couldn’t run. They had cornered him. He certainly couldn’t…couldn’t fight them. But if they took Winch, the odds were that no one would ever see him again. While he debated mentally, the police officers were already moving toward him. One of the larger goons reached out for Winch. Trapper’s hand shot out before he even knew what he was doing. He held the officer’s wrist, shocked at himself. The smaller police officer gave him a look before the larger one raised his fist, and the lights went out.

Polyhex Police Lock-Up

“Uhh…” Trapper mumbled as he came to a state resembling consciousness. He glanced around. He was in a cell. Graffiti marked the walls. He was on the floor though there was a bench behind him. Standing and moving over to the cell bars, Trapper glanced around with a concerned look on his faceplate. He spotted a police officer sitting on a chair, glancing through his datapad.

The officer glanced up. “Ah, you’re awake, are you?” He moved over to Trapper’s cell and gave him what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. It wouldn’t have assured anyone. He looked completely disinterested. “Now…you’re…Trapper. You have no prior record…but I’ve been told you assaulted an officer…?”

Trapper shook his head vehemently, “I…I just grabbed his wrist. It was a reflex.”

“Alright…and what is your relation to this mech?” The officer asked, turning the pad around so Trapper could see Winch pictured on it.

“He’s my boss,” Trapper replied.

“Boss? So you’re a member of his little…dissenter ring?”

“What? No. I work at the docks…I load and unload cargo transports.”

“That isn’t listed in your file,” the officer said, retracting the datapad, presumably to look again. “Nope, you’re slated under pest control in the sea of rust.”

“I do that too,” Trapper said, “But Winch offered me a position. He said he needed some more hands. That he’d take care of the paperwork.”

“Ah, I see. Sorry to say, but your boss was a supporter of an underground movement whose agenda is decidedly anti-Senate,” the officer explained, “Don’t worry though. If your testimony checks out, you’ll be free to go once the investigation is over. We’ll still need to hold you until it’s concluded though. Make yourself comfortable. Energon rations are distributed daily.”

The officer left, leaving Trapper stunned. He staggered back and sat down on the bench with his head in his hands, staring down at the ground in disbelief. This…This all happened because of Pressure. But he just couldn’t understand it. Why? Why did Pressure hate him so much? What had he done to deserve this? What had Winch done?

Cycles passed. The energon rations were meager. The cells grew noisy as rowdy prisoners moved into them and then quiet again when they moved out. Trapper sat in his cell in a daze. He finally snapped out of it when a peculiar, repetitive, tapping sound annoyed him out of it.

“Hey. Psssssst! Big guy…hey! C’mon answer me, will ya?”

“What?” Trapper growled out in irritation.

“Whoa! He speaks! Hey there. Name’s Swindle.” A hand stuck out from the cell beside him in front of his cell. Trapper looked at it as if it were a piranacon doing a jig. “No shake? Well, alright. You look like a bit of a bruiser, huh? I heard you were in for assaulting an officer…Nice! Well, I’ve a little…monetary type offer for you. Interested?”

“No.”

“Whoa, whoa, lemme finish before you shoot me down. Ever heard of the Pits? Hm?” Swindle paused for a moment before continuing, “They’re these little arenas where…brawls for the entertainment of all Cybertronians regardless of function take place. It’s a great time. Really. And well…you seem like a bit of a scrapper, huh? Here.”

Swindle tossed a data slug through the cell bars. “Just think about it, okay?”

Trapper glanced down at the data slug. Despite himself, he was intrigued. He knelt down and scooped the slug up, stowing it somewhere safe. Almost as soon as Trapper had done that, the door at the end of the hall screeched open.

“Scrap, they’re here already?” Swindle whispered, “Act natural!” Trapper listened intently as the guards approached, hoping that he would finally be free to go. Unfortunately, it was Swindle whom they came for. They took him and left, leaving Trapper alone once more. He let out a heavy sigh.

One of the officers, having heard Trapper, walked back and glanced into his cell. It was the one that had interrogated him cycles ago. “What are you still doing here? I thought they gave the order to release you cycles ago,” he said, clearly baffled at Trapper’s continued presence in the cell. He unlocked the cell and opened it, gesturing for Trapper to get out. “Come on. Out.”

Trapper stood uncertainly and moved past the police officer, the officer closing the cell behind him. He was escorted out of the station and outside. It was nighttime. And he was alone on the streets of Polyhex. Trapper dragged himself back to his home, which constituted a makeshift shelter under a bridge on the very edge of the Sea of Rust. A piranacon awaited him in his little hut and hissed at him as he approached. Trapper grabbed one of his spears, resting against the outer wall of his hut, and killed it almost immediately. He had absolutely no patience left. He collapsed inside of his hut and entered a deep recharge cycle.

Polyhex, Wharf Nine

Trapper reported to work to the docks, though he was in something of a sorry state. He glanced around for Winch wondering what assignments the noisy mech had slated for him today. What he saw instead confused his energon starved mind. Pressure was barking orders to the dockers with Prow and Stern relaying them across the cargo ship.

Trapper’s optics narrowed as he approached Pressure, tapping the mech lightly on the shoulder. Pressure flinched and rounded with a vicious slap to Trapper’s head. “How many times to I have to tell you idiots not to sneak- Oooooh…Trapper….” A wicked sneer spread across Pressure’s faceplate. “They finally let you out, huh? Well, as you can see, I got promoted. I’m the boss now.”

“Where is Winch?” Trapper asked, his face unreadable as he stared down at Pressure.

“I don’t know,” Pressure said dismissively. “Figure the police still got him. Didn’t think I would see you or him again.”

“What did you do?!” Trapper growled, seized by anger for a moment, grabbing Pressure’s collar and pulling him close.

“Ah…I would let go if I were you, disposable,” Pressure rumbled dangerously.

Trapper blinked for a moment and looked down at where he had grabbed Pressure. He let go and staggered back in shock. He hadn’t…what had come over him? Pressure smirked imperiously. “Good, good. Now, you should know that I just did my civic duty. I simply must report someone after I learn that they’ve been illegally employing disposables, and they actively denounce the Senate at a public bar! What else could I do?”

Trapper could only stare at Pressure in disbelief. “Now, disposable, we have a problem…sss…You see…You’re not employed by the wharf anymore…and we just really can’t…afford to employ you…” Pressure pursed his lips together in mock sorrow. “Hey, but…you know…I could cut you a break and employ you as my personal assistant. How’s that sound, huh?”

Trapper stared with wide optics at Pressure. Due to his size and alternate mode, he needed more energon than average, which was why he had to work two jobs in the first place. If…he was cut off from the dock then…he wouldn’t get enough energon to function. He’d rust away into nothing as he entered stasis lock.

“What…What would I have to do?” Trapper managed to choke out.

“Ooh, let’s see…” Pressure cackled with glee, “Hm…transform. I want to see what kind of beast you are. Oh, and stay that way. Disposables need to know their place after all.”

“Why do I-“

“Ah-ah! No talking! Beasts do not speak,” Pressure chided. The imperious mech looked at Trapper expectantly. As Trapper felt himself being crushed between his dignity and his need to survive, something welled up from within him. Something cold. Something cruel.

Trapper rarely assumed his alternate mode. He felt a measure of shame when using it alongside the cranes or forklifts or any of the higher class alternate modes. Like he was overstepping himself. Like he was a lesser creature. Not this time. As his gears churned and parts shifted, Trapper doubled over as he assumed his alternate mode.

Reptilian golden optics gleamed with a fierce intensity. A shell armored amphibious beast formed from what was once Trapper. Pressure’s faceplate contorted giddily. As he raised his leg to plonk it atop Trapper’s shell, the amphibious reptile lunged with an open maw.

CRUNCH!

With a snap and crunch, Pressure’s leg separated from his body. The stunned Cybertronian toppled backwards and landed with a thud, staring wide-opticed at his stump of an appendage. Trapper snarled and stepped forward menacingly, making Pressure reel back in terror.

“H-Help! Help me!” Pressure cried out, causing Prow and Stern to race over as well as a few other curious passerby. Trapper glanced around, seeing the crowd drawing in and transformed back into robot mode. He sprinted toward the edge of the quay and leaped off into the Rust Sea. He plunged into its strange liquid form and transformed again, using his aquatic alternate mode to swim deeper and deeper, and farther and farther away from Polyhex.

Somewhere in the Sea of Rust

Trapper trudged along weakly as the Rust Sea began to consolidate into its desert form. His energon levels were low. He needed to find someplace to hide before any search parties came looking. If they hadn’t deployed fliers already. Though…if he thought about it…he wasn’t sure that they would send anyone looking for a runaway member of the disposable class. Pressure, sure, but the city of Polyhex or the Senate? Surely they had bigger things to worry about.

As Trapper’s thoughts drifted toward the underground group, he remembered Winch and Swindle’s words about the Pits. Transforming back into robot mode and carefully handling the data slug that Swindle had given him, he accessed its contents. A date. A location. Presumably of the next Pit.

Trapper checked his internal clock. It was in two days. Going to be held at Tarn. Where…where was he? Figuring that out was less trivial. He knew roughly that he had been heading straight away from Polyhex and that wharf nine pointed in the general direction of Tarn. If he kept going until he left the Sea of Rust…then he would probably make it. He glanced at his energon levels. But he would hardly be in any shape to fight unless he found some energon.

Trapper’s head snapped up as movement ahead alerted him. He drew out one of his collapsible spears and prepared for a fight. Fortunately, it wasn’t an angry mob out to drag him back to Polyhex. Unfortunately, it was a school of ravenous piranacons. They spotted him quickly and charged. Trapper lunged with his spear, impaling one of them but getting bitten and swarmed by the rest.

He snarled and transformed, his shell armor giving him some additional protection as he snapped at the piranacons and trampled them under his feet. After a breem or so, Trapper was the only living thing left standing. Energon pooled out from the various wounds on the piranacons. Trapper stared for a moment, then transformed and picked one up, holding it above his head. He retracted his mouthplate and drank the energon, repeating this process for each of them.

Primal. Bestial. That was what some would consider his behavior. But at that moment, Trapper did not care. He would do what was necessary. He glanced down at the data slug. A new life awaited him in Tarn. And…maybe, it would be a better one. Standing up, Trapper collected his spear from the impaled piranacon and put it and the data slug away. He was bound for Tarn.

Outskirts of Tarn

Cradled by a valley, the Rust of Sea tapered off before reaching the city of Tarn. A lone mechanoid stood on one of the cliffs forming this valley, staring down wistfully at the churning water fluids. The winds kicked up a bit of powdery rust from the surface of the sea and carried it skyward. The blue mechanoid sighed happily.

“Huh?” he uttered as he saw something bob to the surface of the sea. It was a blue…blue round thing. Like a ball? He kneeled down over the edge of the cliff and leaned out, straining his optics to make out whatever it was drifting in the sea. It was…headed in his direction. Kinda bobbing in and out of view as it sunk and rose to the surface. What even…was that?

As it got close enough for the blue mech to begin to pick out some kind of indentations on the round blue thing it disappeared into the unstable planetary matter that composed the Sea of Rust. After a long moment, it seemed like it had gone away. The blue mech tilted his head and sighed, feeling kind of sad that he hadn’t gotten to find out just what it was.

A hand shot out of the rust right for the mech, causing him to reel backwards in surprise as he let out a little squeak of fright. The hand latched onto the edge of the cliff and was soon followed by another, heaving a rather large and imposing mech out of the Sea of Rust. The blue mech stared at Trapper like he was simultaneously the most awesome and terrifying thing that he’d ever set optics on.

Trapper looked down at the mech uncertainly before glancing from side to side warily. He looked back to the mech on his aft. “You never saw me. Understand?” The mech nodded his understanding. Good enough. Trapper swept past the mech and continued his march toward Tarn, bite marks and other perforations marking his armor.

The stunned blue Cybertronian stared after him with his mouth hanging slightly ajar. Looking on in shock long after the Trapper had vanished from view, the land-lock mech finally returned to his senses. “Oh slag! It’s gonna start soon!” Hurrying to his feet, he dusted himself off and made to make a dash for Tarn when he remembered that larger mech. He had gone that way too. Maybe he would see him again!

Tarn

Examining his injuries mildly, Trapper wondered whether he were really fit enough to do this. His energon wasn’t leaking out or anything like that, but his limbs ached, and his armor was marked by gashes. But if he didn’t do this, then he would have no money to get repairs or even energon. Trapper really didn’t have a choice.

Trapper had kept to the outskirts of the city for the most part, unsure if he was considered a fugitive or not. But the coordinates…they were well within the city and slightly…under it. Which was why Trapper sought a service tunnel. Many had fallen into disrepair after the Golden Age and his kind tended to make a home out of them.

After a bit of searching, Trapper found an old station. Stepping down the stairs, he looked around cautiously. A dark cylindrical tunnel stretched out horizontally before him. To either side, just seemingly random collections of junk, but looks could be deceiving. Others of his class probably resided here, hiding their homes for fear of thieves. Trapper was better than most at recognizing the signs.

To his optic, only one camp existed here, but how many occupants it had was another matter. Some, like him, were solitary, but others lived in groups. Still, they didn’t seem to be around, so it did not concern him at the moment.

Pressing on, Trapper entered the cylindrical tube and trudged on into the darkness. His footsteps crunched the powdery debris beneath his feet. Letting out a quiet sigh, he tracked his progress constantly. It seemed as if going through the tunnel system had been the correct decision. As he reached a junction, he paused. Three ways to go. The most direct route would be continue on straight ahead. Could be a dead end though. He didn’t have a lot of time before this Pit was supposed to happen either.

Pressing on, Trapper went with the most direct path, going at his relatively steady pace. After a long breem or two, he noticed a slight change in the luminosity of the tunnel. It was getting brighter. Ahead, the light at the end awaited him. As he breached into the light, Trapper came out into an enormous cavern. Several old transport shuttle husks were strewn about. Much further ahead, some of the shuttles were pushed into a circular ring. The arena presumably.

Upon further examination, Trapper could see mechs scattered throughout the area below in throngs. Well, this was it. Movement to the side caused Trapper to flinch and whirl about to face the presumed assailant. It was a large mech, but a little shorter than him.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” the mech grumbled aggressively, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Trapper took a step back as the mech kept coming before digging out the data slug. “Someone named Swindle gave this to me.”

“Oh, you’re one of Swindle’s recruits? That’s fine then. Just go on down until you get to the arena,” the mech said, pointing down to the ring, “See that red shuttle there? That’s where you can sign up. Good luck.”

Moving past the gatekeeper and down a slight slope to the transport shuttle graveyard, Trapper observed other mechanoids milling about. Several of the shuttle husks had been converted to merchant stalls. Some offered energon or refreshments. Others had paraphernalia of all kinds. Trapper looked over at one stall. It was selling cheap looking models of a…two-headed reptilian Cybertronian?

Trapper shook his head and pressed on. He soon found the red shuttle. It had been crudely painted red to make it stand out from the other shuttles. To his mild surprise, there was no one currently in line. He stepped up to the counter. A rather bored looking green and purple mechanoid was fiddling with a datapad. After a long moment of the mechanoid not noticing him, Trapper tried clearing his vocal processor to get his attention.

“I see you,” said the green and purple mech, not bothering to glance up from his datapad. He let out a prolonged sigh and lifted his optics to Trapper. “Hm…don’t recognize you. This is where fighters sign up. Spectator entrances are over there,” he said, waving in a general direction behind Trapper.

“I am here to fight.”

“Pffffffffft! You?” the mech began to chuckle, “But you’re a mess! You wouldn’t last a breem.”

“I came to fight,” Trapper insisted grimly.

“Alright, if you insist,” the mech said, finally relenting, “But it’s your funeral. Name?”

“Trapper.”

“You’ll be going up against-“

“Hook! Hook!” called a voice from afar.

“Oh Primus, help me…” the green and purple mech mumbled. Swindle popped out from behind a nearby shuttle and jogged over to the counter, slapping a piece of junk down on it.

“I found one,” Swindle said, grinning from audio to audio. Hook glanced down at the rust-coated part in disgust.

“I’m not paying for that.”

“What?! This is the best value for your shanix!”

“No."

“Tch, fine,” Swindle grumbled, swiping the part off of the counter and stowing it away somewhere. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Swindle turned to walk away, pausing as he looked at Trapper. “Hey…Don’t I…Oh! You’re that bruiser from Polyhex! You made it! I knew it. I never forget a face, you know.”

Swindle gave Trapper a big grin and clapped the larger mech on his back. “Looking forward to seeing you in action. I’ll be putting some shanix on you!” With a little wave, Swindle moved off, disappearing into the maze of transport shuttle husks. Trapper watched him go before turning back to Hook.

“Don’t believe a word that charlatan says,” Hook said flatly. “Anyway, your opponent is…Goldion. You can go on in there and wait to be called in. Now get out of my face.”

Trapper turned to the hole carved out of one of the shuttles. He supposed that this was what Hook had meant by ‘there’. He stepped inside and marched onward into the darkness. Shuffling through the tight confines of the shuttle, he finally came out to a smaller ring of shuttles that had their outer casing cut off to allow for easy access to the benches within the shuttles.

Several Cybertronians were scattered throughout the area. No one that Trapper recognized. He took a seat on an empty bench and glanced around at what he supposed was the competition. One lanky mechanoid spotted him, perking up slightly. Trapper’s optics narrowed as dread began to fill him. He sat down next to Trapper and fidgeted. Trapper covered his face with a hand, applying gentle pressure his temples.

“Hey.”

Trapper didn’t respond. Maybe if he just ignored him, the pest would go away.

“Psst.”

Any second now.

“Hey! Big guy?”

When Trapper was nudged by the lanky mechanoid, he lifted his head up and stared with intense disdain at him. The lanky mech was completely oblivious. He gave Trapper a big smile and stuck out his hand rigidly. “Hey! I’m Sharp!”

“Clearly not,” Trapper grumbled under his breath.

“Huh? Well, anyway, let’s be friends! Buddies! Pals! We’ll stick together through thick and thin, grease and gristle! What’dya say, uh…didn’t catch your name!”

Trapper sighed deeply. “Trapper,” he said.

“Trapper, huh? Hm…I like it!” Sharp said with a grin. “So, how about it, Trapper? We can help each other out. Sometimes they do free-for-alls! We can team up and take the Pit by storm! The dynamic duo for the ages!”

“Alright,” Trapper said simply, wanting nothing more to do with Sharp. “Will you leave me be?”

“Oh, sure! You wanna focus. I get it, I get it. Good luck today!” Sharp patted Trapper lightly on the back before scuttling away to a different corner of the waiting area. Trapper couldn’t have been more pleased. Screens that hung above each of the shuttles flickered online, attracting the blue Cybertronian’s attention. On it, a silver Cybertronian appeared. He had fierce red optics that bespoke a certain ferocity, though Trapper could tell that he was likely a miner. Or used to be anyway.

>>”Greetings fellow Cybertronians,”<< the silver mechanoid began, >>”I am Megatron, leader of the Decepticon revolutionary movement! We are here in recognition of that which makes us great. That which the Senate refuses to acknowledge! Our worth as Cybertronians. This shall be testament to what we can accomplish outside of their dominion!”<<

>>”To those of you who fight tonight, show us what you’re made of! Fight! Tear your opponent apart. Show us your mettle. Let it begin.”<<

The screen flickered off as a roar from the crowd echoed through the cavern deafeningly. Feeling slightly uneasy, Trapper knit his actuators together and steeled his nerves. There was no turning back for him. He had to do this. He must. So distracted by this own worries, Trapper almost missed a diminutive mechanoid trot past him. His amber optics flicked over to the small bot who stepped over to a shuttle door.

“Alright, ahh…We got a Trapper here?”

He was first? That didn’t seem right. He was the last to sign up. Regardless, Trapper stood, which attracted the attention of the little mech. “Hey!” the little called as Trapper moved over to him. “You’re up! Give these people a rumble for Rumble!”

“…”

Trapper just stared.

“Me. I’m Rumble. Never mind. Just get out there!” Rumble grumbled hitting the switch on the shuttle door. It slid open with a slight hiss. Rumble waved him inside dismissively. Heaving another inward sigh, Trapper moved past the little mech and into the darkness of the shuttle confines once again. However, he could very clearly see to the end out onto the expanse of the arena.

As he stepped into the light, the crowd seated all around him burst into a roar. Trapper flinched at the noise as his optics adjusted. Surrounded by a sea of Cybertronians. All their optics on him. It was a new sensation for Trapper, one who had spent so much time beneath the notice of most. An uncomfortable one.

His optics snapped forward as the crowd erupted into an even louder roar. His opponent Goldion had arrived. Much like his name, the mechanoid was entirely golden. He was sporting…a massive war hammer? Trapper’s optics widened at the revelation. He had assumed that this would be hand to hand.

Goldion grinned widely at the crowd and lifted his hammer over his head, spinning it before slamming it down on the ground. The crowd ate it up and increased in volume. Trapper stood uncertainly for a moment before drawing out his extendable spear.

>>”Heeeeelloooo, my good gentlemechs! Your old pal Frenzy here! The first of match of the Pits is…the dome-splitting Goldion! You know him, you love him, you love to hate him! This hammer wielding gladiator is no joke!”<< exclaimed a voice over some loud speakers.

>>”Versus a new contender who is making his debut tonight! He goes by the name of Trapper! Let’s see if this new scrap metal can hold his own against a tested Pit vet or if he’ll be joining the junk heap! Ready down there? Fight!”<<

Trapper locked his amber optics onto Goldion who smirked back at him. “Bad luck, scrap metal,” Goldion chuckled out as he began to move toward Trapper, “You’re not gonna make it out of here alive, much less in one piece!” Bracing himself and holding his spear out in front of him defensively, Trapper stood his ground.

Goldion paused in his approach and laughed. “That little poker isn’t gonna do squat to stop my hammer,” he chuckled. Spreading his arms out invitingly, Goldion left himself open and vulnerable to attack. “Come on. I’ll let you get a hit in.” The golden Cybertronian smirked as Trapper shifted uncertainly.

“Going once…”

Trapper’s optics widened as he stared at the cruelly sneering Goldion.

“Going twice…”

Tightening his grip on his spear, Trapper steeled his nerves and charged forward, the tip of his spear aimed squarely for the center of Goldion’s chest. Goldion began to move, causing Trapper to hesitate for a split astrosecond. In that time, Goldion sidestepped Trapper’s thrust and swung his hammer around to collide with Trapper’s back, sending the blue mech sliding across the arena.

“Gone,” Goldion whistled as he noted the distance that Trapper had slid. “Ooh, that might be a new record.”

In a bit of shock, Trapper recovered slowly from his tumble, gathering his feet under him. In that time, Goldion moved to his side, drawing back his hammer for a blow to Trapper’s side. “You know…” Goldion began, the amusement beginning to drain from his face.

KRAK!

Another painful blow. Slamming into the arena wall, Trapper grunted painfully before rising to his knees once more. Goldion, swinging his hammer about haphazardly, continued his approach. “I don’t think you get it, rookie.” Trapper forced himself to his feet this time, bringing his spear to bare once more. “This is the Pit,” Goldion continued.

Trapper hefted his spear and thrust it at his opponent who deflected it with the hammer head. Goldion lashed out with a hand, taking Trapper by surprise and seizing him by his neck. “We fight with our lives on the line. There are those who win,” Goldion tightened his vice-like grip on Trapper’s neck. While Cybertronians had no need to breathe, it was still an incredibly painful sensation. “Or those who die.”

Tossing Trapper aside like a piece of scrap metal, Goldion lifted his hammer high over his head to deliver the kill stroke. “It’s as simple as that.” Goldion grunted as he swung the hammer down full force.

It collided with something incredibly hard, causing a dull tone to ring out through the air. Goldion felt the reverberations through his own hammer, which vibrated in his hands violently. “What?!” And then he saw it. Trapper had transformed just in the nick of time. His reptilian alternate mode’s shell had taken the brunt of the impact.

“Tch. That won’t save you!” Goldion snarled as he swung his hammer back to strike once more at Trapper’s side. Trapper hastily lunged and bit down hard on Goldion’s leg, his vice-like jaw severing armor and servo neatly. The golden gladiator grunted in pain, but did not stop, swinging his hammer and bashing it into Trapper’s side.

The tortoise flipped end over end a few times from the sheer force of the blow, somehow ending back up on his feet. However, Trapper hadn’t gone without damage as before. A crack on his underside leaked out energon slowly. His armor was…weaker there? Trapper shook his head to clear it, the pain dizzying and disorientating.

By the time he had managed to refocus his optics, Goldion was upon him. His optics widened as he saw Goldion bring his hammer up. Trapper jerked away, but it was too late. The hammer came down.

KRSPURT!

Goldion grinned. He hefted his hammer back up over his shoulder, staring down at the pink and blue mess of what used to be Trapper’s head. The crowd was quiet for a long moment. Goldion turned and lifted his hammer high over his head victoriously. The Pit erupted into cheers. Offlining his optics, Goldion took in his moment of victory.

Behind him, however, Trapper’s body began to move. It shifted, transforming. Rising to a knee in robot mode, Trapper held his midsection where the stump of his alternate mode’s head resided, energon surging from the wound. Was…was he going to die? Trapper forced himself to his feet, energon spurting out of him with the effort. The crowd quieted as he did, causing Goldion to look behind himself.

“Huh.”

Trapper held another spear with both hands, wobbling unsteadily on his feet. All he had to do was…drive it through. He could…he could do that right? Drawing the spear back for the plunge, Trapper noted that his vision was beginning to swim, the edges growing dark. Goldion turned around, a somber look on his faceplate. Feeling that this would be his last chance, Trapper thrust the spear forward with all his remaining strength, sending the barbed tip through Goldion’s chest plate.

But the blade of the spear was all that went in, and not very deep at that. Trapper’s optics widened in horror as Goldion seized the spear and began to pull it out. “You’re tougher than I thought you were,” he said as he yanked it free from his body and Trapper’s hands, tossing the spear aside.

“For that,” Goldion continued, his stance shifting, “I’ll give you a warrior’s death. Come! Face your end with that warrior’s spirit!”

Trapper stared at Goldion in disbelief. He didn’t…he didn’t want to die here. After a moment of waiting, Goldion lifted his hammer. “If you will not make a move, then I shall!” he growled as he swung his hammer once more. Trapper scrambled back hastily, narrowly evading another crippling blow to his side.

Balling his hands up into fists, Trapper lifted them up as his energon made the ground slick under his feet. He moved in and punched Goldion ferociously, causing the golden gladiator to stumble back a few steps. “That’s it! That’s what I wanted to see,” Goldion said with a demented grin, “I’ll crush you and your warrior’s pride into pulp!”

Goldion suddenly lashed out with his hammer with greater speed than before. Trapper reflexively back stepped, only to slip in the growing pool of his own energon. The fall put his leg right in harm’s way. It crunched painfully, yet Trapper bit back his cries of agony. He struggled to sit up but was met with a swift kick to his side.

Trapper’s vision went dark for a moment. When his optics flickered back online, he was met with Goldion’s sneering visage and the gladiator’s hand around his neck once more. Trapper seized Goldion’s arm and squeezed with all his might, trying to force Goldion to release his grip. The golden mech’s optics widened as Trapper’s digits began to dent the armor plating on his arm.

Tossing Trapper onto his back in an effort to dislodge the reptilian Cybertronian from his arm, Goldion stood over Trapper, hammer in hand. “This is the end,” he grit out, lifting his hammer up high into the air, “Good-bye.”

KRAAAK!

Pain.

KRUNCH!

Agony.

KRSLUP!

Darkness.

SHLAP!

…

The Pit

“These are the casualties from this cycle’s Pit, Megatron,” Soundwave reported as he and the silver Cybertronian approached a pile of Cybertronian bodies. Rumble and Frenzy trailed along beside Soundwave with Laserbeak circling above. “How would you like to dispose of them?”

“Does Scrapper require any more materials?” Megatron queried as he held his arm out. Laserbeak alighted on it, allowing the silver mechanoid to caress his head.

“No,” Soundwave replied in his usual monotone, “Not until we relocate. Suggestion: Feed them to Hun-Grr.”

“His pet is probably already on his way here,” Rumble said, piping up.

“It looks as though something has come and gone at least,” Ravage purred from behind the pile of corpses. Megatron moved over curiously, accompanied by Soundwave and his minions, to see a trail of energon leading away toward the tunnels.

“Looks like Hun-Grr’s pet already came,” Frenzy commented.

“No,” Megatron said thoughtfully, “If Blot had, then there would be nothing left.”

“Looks like they were dragging themselves along…” Ravage muttered, following the trail until he reached a large pool of energon. “Until they collapsed. Then…they were carried away.”

“Wonder who it could be,” Frenzy said, glancing back at the pile.

“Who cares?” Rumble muttered with a shrug.

“You know…I’m not seeing one guy…he was uh…the first match. Big. Blue. Think his name started with a ‘T’…T…Tr…Trap? Something-trap? Ah, guess it doesn’t really matter,” Frenzy said with a shrug, “The guy’s a loser.”

Soundwave turned toward Megatron. “Your orders?”

Megatron stared at the trail of energon thoughtfully for a moment longer before turning to address his navy blue and white friend. “Salvage what parts you can and feed the rest to Hun-Grr. Has Starscream gathered the victors?”

“Affirmative.”

“Excellent,” Megatron said as he began to walk back toward the arena, “Come. The recruits await us.”

Outskirts of Tarn

”…ey, I think he’s waking up!”

”Are you sure?”

”What kinda question is that? Of course I’m sure!”

Voices…muffled. Hard to make out. Trapper tried to focus on them.

”Fiiiiiiiiine…I’ll get up…”

”Careful not to ooze anywhere near the big guy, alright?”

“I know, I know! Sheesh…”

There. He could hear them clearly now. Trapper tried to speak.

“Ungh…” was all that he could manage. His amber optics flickered online, noting two figures above him. As his optics adjusted, he could make out their features. One, possessing a mouthplate, was closest to him. The other stood back a fair distance, watching from afar. As his systems slowly rebooted, Trapper attempted to rise only to be met with gentle resistance.

“Whoa, whoa there, big guy!” said the one with the mouthplate, “Take it easy. You’re among friends.”

“Who...” Trapper trailed off shakily. His voice was weak. In fact, his whole body felt achy and drained. “Who…are you? What…what happened?”

“Name’s Overbite, and that sorry excuse for spare parts over there is Skalor,” replied the one with the mouthplate. Skalor gave Overbite a dirty look from where he stood. Skalor glanced down at Trapper, shaking his head.

“Don’t mind that idiot. He’s got piranacons for brains.”

“At least I do something other than sit around all day,” Overbite snapped back before looking back to the perplexed Trapper. “We saw your fight in the Pits.”

“Pretty nasty,” Skalor commented.

“They don’t usually set up new fighters with guys like Goldion,” Overbite muttered, clearly bemused. “Maybe someone screwed up?”

“Who knows?” Skalor said with a shrug.

“After…the fight…” Trapper interjected, the two having strayed off-topic.

“Oh! Right, well. Skalor and I were headed home, and we happened to pass by…uh…the loser pile. We saw you dragging yourself away. And-“

“Overbite decided we just couldn’t leave you,” Skalor sighed.

“Hey! We disposables gotta look out for each other! If we don’t who will?”

“Yeah, yeah…Funny how someone as energon-thirsty as you can be such a bleeding spark…Anyway, we picked ya up an’ brought ya to a clinic that treats us disposables. A decent one too,” Skalor grumbled, glaring at Overbite sidelong.

“They patched you up, and we brought you back to our place for the time being,” Overbite continued, ignoring Skalor. “It’s not much, but it’s home. How you feelin’, big guy? Alright?”

“I ache,” Trapper replied, finding it a bit easier to get the words out now.

“That’s to be expected,” said Overbite.

“Ya got the tar beat out of ya. Coulda sworn I saw cracked spark casing when Goldion was whaling on you with that hammer of his,” Skalor said, drawing closer. A pungent odor crept into Trapper’s olfactory sensors. He could see lubricants and other substances oozing from Skalor in hideous fashion. Trapper stared hard at the mechanoid, causing Overbite to look as well.

“Hey! Give the mech some room before you introduce him to your stench,” Overbite growled.

“Pfft. He’s gotta get used to it sometime.”

“He doesn’t need this right now!”

“That’s what you say.”

“You oozing waste of-“

“Why?” Trapper asked with enough volume to interrupt the two squabbling mechs. “I’m not…worth saving.”

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t say that,” Overbite said, his attention immediately turning back to Trapper. Even Skalor looked at the blue mech with some concern.

“We already told you why,” Skalor said with a frown. “Don’t make us go repeatin’ ourselves. We saw a fellow Cybertronian in trouble. We helped out. Ain’t a big deal.” Turning with a heavy sigh, Skalor looked back at Trapper. “If ya wanna pay us back, ya can start by resting up for now. Bah, Overbite, you look after him.”

“Wait a breem! It’s your turn!”

“You’re better at that than I am. Best to leave it to ya,” Skalor said with a wave as he began to walk off.

“Agh, that slagging glitch!” Overbite hissed out under his breath. He sighed and looked back at Trapper, patting him lightly on the shoulder. He turned around, allowing Trapper a moment to assess his state. His body ached, but it looked, for the most part, repaired, though he wouldn’t know that for sure until he was well enough to move on his own power. Right now, his energon reserves were far too low for much unnecessary movement.

“Here,” Overbite said as he turned back around with an energon cube in hand. A swirly straw stuck out of it whimsically. Trapper stared for a moment before taking it with one hand. He sipped from the cube slowly. After he was done, Overbite took the cube and began fiddling with some machinery. “Alright, gonna set you up for a recharge cycle. Let you get some rest. Understand?”

Trapper nodded.

“See you on the other side.”

#fanfic #transformers #transformers idw #fanfiction #decepticons #snaptrap

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flauntpage · 6 years ago

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Your Full Thanksgiving NFL Betting Guide

I know, the puns, I’m sorry. They were there, and I had to do it.

The action

Note: All betting lines are as of 9:00 a.m. Wednesday morning and are subject to change. In fact, they most certainly will change.

I made this chart tracking the current lines and values across the major online legal sportsbooks for each of Thursday’s three NFL games. It even has some pretty Thanksgiving artwork. Enjoy.

The specials

DraftKings

SugarHouse Sportsbook

FanDuel

BetStars NJ

As always, BetStars offers a generous $50 free bet with no deposit and a $500 sign-up bonus, and a lucrative Parlay Bonus:

But you can also enjoy their Black Friday Boosts that run all the way through Cyber Monday.

Visit the BetStars homepage at noon on Black Friday for your first offer, and come back every hour between 12-4 p.m. to get Odds Boosts on the biggest sporting events.

888sport NJ

888sport NJ will give you $10 just for signing up with no deposit required, but if you sign up, they, too, offer an enticing bonus of up to $500.

Also be sure to check out 888sport NJ’s NCAA Basketball Challenge that will double payouts on parlays of at least 3 bets and odds of -200 or higher on college basketball games.

Trends to know

Chicago (7-3) at Detroit (4-6), 12:30, CBS

Photo credit: Quinn Harris-USA TODAY Sports

The Bears aren’t the only team with injury concerns ahead of this contest. Marvin Jones will miss another game, and running back Kerryon Johnson is out with a knee injury.

As of Wednesday morning, 59% of spread bets are on Chicago, but only 52% of the money backs the Bears. Some sharp money is on Detroit.

One more thing: Detroit has gone 4-1 ATS and straight-up on Thanksgiving since 2013.

Washington (6-4) at Dallas (5-5), 4:30, FOX

Photo credit: Brad Mills-USA TODAY Sports

At the time of this post, only 41% of spread bets are on Washington, but 59% of the money backs the Redskins, so it’s clear the big-money gamblers like getting the points in this division contest.

Atlanta (4-6) at New Orleans (9-1), 8:20, NBC

Photo credit: The Daily Advertiser-USA TODAY N

Currently, only 34% of point-spread bets back the Falcons, but an overwhelming 70% of the money likes the idea of backing an underdog with some big names on offense in this divisional contest.

I’ll take the under and hold my breath.

Those on the over should get it at FanDuel where it’s 59.5 (-110), and those on the under can grab it at BetStars where it’s set at 60 (-105).

If you or someone you know has a gambling problem and wants help, call 1-800 GAMBLER.

Full disclosure: We are an affiliate of legal New Jersey sports betting sites, so we may receive a commission if you use our links.

The post Your Full Thanksgiving NFL Betting Guide appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Your Full Thanksgiving NFL Betting Guide published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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