Tbh Just A Blog For Transformers Stuff

-

Topsy Turvy - Chapter 1 - Pinstripe_Wings - Transformers - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

a mecha pilot jazz au/reverse mecha au with JazzProwl, where they swap species. Drift/Ratchet and other relationships that are background/implied.

Update: ch 5 (12/21/25)

-

(to add link) (Not) for the cause:

Starscream/Skyfire, began with shorter chapters, plot happened, so editing some longer some chapters and what happens in some of them

Note: No particular warnings that I can think of. HMU if there needs to be any. -

Not being discovered by enemy scouts while making good progress cross-country was currently high up on Jazz’s list of accomplishments he was proud of attaining now that he was back on Earth. 

It was a small smattering of accomplishments, but hey, Jazz would take anything he could get at this point that was a win of sorts. 

If only such luck would happen more often, Jazz wouldn’t have to worry about others getting themselves into situations they couldn’t get out of or for Jazz to think he was on one last mission only for-

(Don’t think about the last time)

Focus on the positives!

Like locating a decent hideaway in the form of a warehouse, so that Prowl could unlink from his mecha and get some much needed sleep that he denied needing. 

Jazz saw the damage to his mecha, even from before that initial throw down with the small scout and soldier Quintesson party that’d tried to jump them. And in the quiet of the warehouse while Prowl rested, Jazz, unable to let gunfire down enough to recharge as well, made note of the damage done to his Cybertronian frame. He found it interesting, now that he really looked at it, that the damage was similar to what Jazz had happen to Bebop, only not as catastrophic as it would be to the mecha.

Had the damage carried over to different bodies? 

How did that work?

Really, what the hell had happened with that Quint portal and the weapons some of them had used in that moment?

Jazz cast his gaze around the darkened warehouse; he’d have to ask Perceptor about it sometime, if he ever managed to get back to Cybertron where he and Wheeljack had begun to collaborate. Of the duo was able to somehow travel to Earth. 

Jazz tapped a pede, restless as he attempted to recall how many groups had been scattered about running missions the same as him and Prowl. Jazz didn’t realize he ended up so deep in thought until Prowl awakened, mecha chest open as he looked up.

“Jazz?”

“Mornin’ Prowler.” Jazz greeted as he sent the ‘how many people were out in missions’ to the back of his processor as he turned his helm to Prowl, visor brightening. 

“You didn’t go to recharge.” 

A statement. 

“Now why would ya think that?”

“Your visor is brighter in saturation, indicating power rerouting to run other processes.” Prowl returned, as he began the arduous journey climbing down to the floor of the warehouse. Then, dryly. “And you are slumped against the wall of the warehouse, which is currently bending under the strain.” 

Jazz sat himself up at that, armor flexing as he did, and paused mid-shift to the side to prevent himself from smooshing a sporty car that…

Wait!

“Prowl!” Jazz let out a sudden ex-vent as he snapped his helm to look down back at his partner, now on his mecha’s foot. “I can have an alt mode now, can’t I?”

“Yes, that is correct, as a Cybertronian, you do now possess the ability to transform.” Prowl is very small from where he is currently perched. “Why do you ask now?”

“We need supplies for you, and we can be more stealthy if I drove to the nearest city from here, and give ya a bit of a break from the neural link. So long as there ain’t any enemies showin’ up.” Jazz said with a little shrug, evading the earlier question about recharge.

”We did discuss this as we took shelter inside this place.” From the look Prowl gave him he noticed, but let it slide, for now. “Do you believe the nearest city will have enough areas to scavenge for such supplies, if necessary?”

“Big enough there should be somethin’ left to find.” Jazz startled Prowl into a flinch when he let out a loud exclamation of another realization. “Prowl!”

“Yes, Jazz?”

“I got an alt mode now, don’t I?” Jazz could feel his engine rev, doubling the excitement he felt. 

“Yes, as a Cybertronian, you do have the ability” Prowl agreed, a small smile passing across lips as he watched Jazz practically vibrate on the spot. “There should be specifications of how to do what comes naturally in one of the informational data packets I sent to you yesterday.” Prowl watched Jazz start to move toward some of the cars that had been stored in the warehouse. “That is, if you require any explanation on how it feels to scan and transform into your alt mode.”

Jazz located a vehicle that looked like it ought to fit the parameters of his Cybertronian form and eagerly scanned it. The transformation process right after was surprisingly instinctive that Jazz didn’t need to think about it. 

At first. 

Jazz couldn’t help but let out a laugh when he abruptly stopped partway through the transformation. “A little help here, Prowler?”

“Do not think so too hard about it.” Prowler responded. “Let your frame finish changing shape.”

Not entirely helpful but Jazz did take a moment to consider the odd sensation that there’s more than his big Cybertronian form to consider. But the thought was there and gone because the distraction was apparently enough for something to click. Jazz finished transforming into the vehicle he’d scanned, a sleek white car with a red and blue stripe and a few light blue highlights here and there. Cautiously, then with more of the initial excitement, Jazz realized that driving his alt mode around felt comparable to piloting Bebop.

Giddy with his new alt mode form, Jazz began to drive careful donuts around Prowl, who’d come out of his mecha and clambered down via ladder and careful jumps. Jazz slowed further to wiggle his front tires, delighted over the responsiveness in his own body despite being a car. Jazz teasingly wagged his bumper back and forth by swerving those tires as he drove a wider circle around Prowl, who watched him with faint amusement, wearing those glasses again.

“Have you seen the scans of the nearest human city?” Prowl asked, by the time Jazz came to a complete halt nearby.

“Yeah, it looked like there’d be a good chance to get some supplies for you.” Jazz carefully bonked Prowl with the driver’s side door, grinning unseen from the distracted pat Prowl gave the door. He was staring off into the distance as if looking at data, only to blink in confusion, then exasperation. 

“It is inconvenient for humans to be unable  to access data from their processor while not hooked up to a mecha.” Prowl made a disgruntled noise as he looked to Jazz. “And even then, how can humans stand having only being able to use a rudimentary HUD when wearing the pilot helmet?”

“We haven’t reached neural implants in the brain on Earth that would be able to do that.” Jazz lamented, as he attempted to take his mind off just how easily his own processor was running, delegating certain trains of thought to the deepest parts of said processor, never to be looked at again. If he’d had this as a human, Jazz would be hiding so much trauma that it’d concern anyone who knew him for ‘repressing’ instead of ‘processing’. And just like that, Jazz focused on the city and not what his mind was or wasn’t focusing on. “Looks like there’d ain’t any sign of human activity in a 15 mile radius from where we are.” Jazz lightly thwacked Prowl with his car door again. “How about you take me out on a spin, Prowler? Let’s go check out what supplies are around, including food that isn’t bland and tasteless.”

“It would be useful to have food that tastes palatable.” From the way Prowl faintly grimaced, he must be recalling the unpleasant texture and taste. 

Jazz didn’t blame him; that shit they gave the mecha pilots was barely passable as food but was easier to make and doll out in short notice. 

“And the timing is currently the best we have in terms of there being no other humans to question us or Quintesson forces to deal with.” Prowl looked to Jazz’s alt mode. “We will have to be certain to remain alert in case they have to retreat. You will not be able to fight off an enemy if I am your passenger and can it get out of your alt mode to safety or my…mecha.”

“I gotchu, babe.” Jazz said, opening his door  into Prowl to playfully indicate he should get in. And what bizarre thought right there, to think that Prowl would be inside him in alt mode. 

It was even weirder when Prowl ducked down and into the car, where he settled into the nice comfy leather seat. 

Jazz was jealous of himself for having such an interior, when the last car human Jazz had been in left something to be desired.

Withholding a shiver when Prowl dutifully buckled himself in securely, Jazz managed to pass it off as eagerness as he revved his engine while rolling forward toward the open, broken front doors of the warehouse. Jazz revved his engine again, because it was fun and it made Prowl smile again. 

A smile that was fond yet bittersweet, as if Prowl again realized what he was missing now that he had become human. 

Jazz found he was able to manipulate the seat belt and gave it a brief squeeze agaisnt Prowl in silent understanding. He shivered involuntarily while emerging from the warehouse as laid a hand lightly over his chest, on the belt.

It was quiet. 

There was no sign or single of anyone nearby, lurking, be it friend, civilian or enemy. 

Jazz angled himself to drive down the small dirt path that led to a desolate side road void of traffic. Jazz began to increase the speed of his alt mode further down along the road. Then, Jazz it the gas (or whatever it was now that he ran on in his vehicle alt mode-a combo of gas and energon?) and shot down the road. The moment he reaches the highway, Jazz let himself fly down the highway, releasing a delighted whoop at the speed and lack of traffic ro increase that speed a bit more. 

“Jazz!” Prowl ended up gripping whatever he could lay his hands on that wasn’t the steering wheel. Holding to the middle console and the bottom of the seat he was on, he continued on.  “Just because there is no one else around does not mean you have 

to drive so recklessly.”

“Ya ain’t seen reckless yet!” Jazz laughed, though he wasn’t about to see just how fast he could go with Prowl depending on him for safety. 

Another time. 

But that didn’t mean Jazz couldn’t have a little fun right now. 

Prowl grimly held on while Jazz shifted lanes and began to increase his speed again. 

“Don’t worry boo, I won’t crash with ya in me.” Jazz assured with an unseen grin.

Prowl said nothing as the speed remained constant, practically white knuckling the middle console and the underside of the seat. Blue eyes narrowed on the dashboard, Prowl releasing slightly frustrated puffs of air, lips twitching as if he wanted to say or do something. 

“What’s up, Prowler? Jazz asked, while at the same time discovering the controls for the radio. He fiddled with the stations until he found music he felt was appropriate for practically flying down the highway. 

“…I am attempting to reconcile my need to pursue a speeding target while I am incapable of doing so.” Prowl eventually stated through gritted teeth.

“Aww, Prowler, I’d let ya chase me anytime once yer back in that mecha.” Jazz cooed. “You could probably outpace me with those thrusters and a leap.”

“It is simply not the same.” Prowl deadpanned after clearly giving the idea some thought. 

“Sure, it won’t be the same.” Jazz agreed. “But ya won’t know that till we give it a try.”

Prowl released a sigh but Jazz could see the same indulgent smile from before, like he found Jazz endearing but a pain in the ass. 

The minutes seemed to pass by quickly, bringing the city closer into view. 

It looked half-wrecked. 

Jazz found he could look a little closer to make it seem less far away. 

Neat. 

It wouldn’t be much longer until he and Prowl reached the city. But it was upon seeing their destination that Jazz suddenly realized he wouldn’t be able to help Prowl look for supplies so easily. Especially considering that he’d either be a car or he’d become a big, bulky living metal robot that wouldn’t be able to do more than peer into the windows or doors of shops. 

Unless, of course, the city was wrecked to shit, like it kind of looked like from this distance. 

Jazz could help root around in rubble and debris if that was the case. 

But until they reached the city, Jazz got to spend time with Prowl in a much closer way than before. 

A nice thought.

“In the event we cross paths with any Cybertronian who may have ended up in a situation like ourselves, you should be aware that…” Prowl trailed off, furrowing his brow as though thinking before speaking again. “Do be aware that when you rumble your engine like the ‘purr’ you just made? It indicates that you are…pleased to be around a particular person.”

“Is that so?” Jazz quieted for a moment as he continued his way down the highway. Then, he made the rumbling engine purr. “Well, just so ya know, I am ‘pleased’ to be around ya, Prowler.” Jazz proceeded to thrum his engine at a frequency that did seem to make a ‘purring’ noise. “Literally and metaphorically.”

The little blush on Prowl’s pale human face was so worth whatever bullshit was afoot that caused their species change.  

-

Prowl had slowly become accustomed to and aware of Jazz’s fondness for him as a human. But it was another thing for Prowl to experience when Jazz was Cybertronian. And despite being human, Prowl was more clearly able to see signs of that fondness than before. Unfortunately, Prowl only had the limited ability to sense many while being limited to reciprocation while Prowl was human. 

But one thing he was familiar with?

The engine-like deep purr that reverberated through Prowl’s body was reassuring and familiar, though he didn’t often hear such sounds directed toward himself. Most of the time, Prowl knew that he had absentmindedly rumbled his engine around Jazz, both before and after Prowl had discovered that Jazz was an organic (and not a living mech that had suffered through torture to his frame to manipulate it to fight Quintessons).

Prowl knew he was unable to return the engine purr, for obvious reasons, but had a passing though that perhaps he could do so within the mecha. Even if Prowl wasn’t sure of the mecha’s schematics to be able to reproduce such a sound. If anything, the engine to whatever ran the mecha would sound so lifeless compared to the rich vibrancy Prowl, as a Cybertronian, had produced. Though not at the level Jazz’s smooth engine purr allowed him within alt mode. 

A thought to be pursued at a later time. Currently, Prowl was supposed to be readying himself to look for supplies, while Jazz kept an optic out for any trouble. 

The city, once Jazz reached it, was eerily still, the only noise Jazz’s engine as he turned left and pulled into a street lined with buildings on one side, and crumpled, caved in ones on the opposite street. 

This silence is disquieting in a way Prowl did not know how to explain. Not in a way he would he satisfied with. The closest comparison Prowl could link it to were those times when he worked late into the night (a common occurrence) while most other Autobots were deep in recharge. 

Prowl’s only company in those late nights the white noise of the vents within his office, and of Red Alert’s intermittent reports on security locations scattered about. Many of those reports happened to be tagged ‘Decepticon’  and ‘high priority’ because Red couldn’t help but continue to find Decepticon actions ‘suspicious’. Even if it was just a couple of ‘cons relaxing during a rare instance of no battle with the Quintesson force. 

Prowl had only interfered once when he’d received a message from Red Alert about a large card game between a group of Autobots and Decepticons (started by Swindle and Smokescreen) that had gotten to betting medical supplies; something expressly forbidden, as there just wasn’t enough to go around, and medics sparsely spread around couldn’t just leave their stations. That had been an interesting night…and protest, with many a mech put into the brig. Prowl merely returned to his office to finish up as much work as he could, the renewed silence welcome in those early morning hours.

This city, half destroyed by an apparent brutal encounter between mecha pilots and Quintesson forces. 

Prowl was able to tell that he and Jazz were alone. 

For now.

“You ready to go check some of the intact stores?” Jazz drawled, interrupting Prowl’s thoughts. 

Glancing up from where he’d been staring out the side window, Prowl gave a single nod. He withheld a grimace as it made something in his neck twinge painfully; it was probably just something leftover from being connected to the neural link of the mecha. Hopefully, that would fade soon enough. 

“You sure, boo? I think I felt ya wince.” Jazz had opened up the door of his alt mode to let Prowl out in any case. “Head givin’ ya some trouble today?”

“Not enough to impede with a search for supplies.” Prowl allowed, knowing that he and Jazz were notoriously poor at admitting needing medical treatment. Plus, Prowl was still not as familiar with humans as he wanted to be, in regard to making sure that Jazz had been taking care of himself these past five years. Insomuch as he gave out information on his organization species. 

“It’s fun to see you thinkin’ like yer a mech. Ya pinch your eyebrows together and furrow your brows. It’s cute, Prowler.” Jazz waggled his door a little. “How about we go over whatever yer thinkin’ about on the way back to the warehouse?”

“Very well.” Prowl agreed, before he slid out of Jazz’s alt mode. He gave the store that Jazz pulled up alongside, then back, to watch Jazz idle outside, presumably to keep an optic out. 

Smart. 

With Jazz’s sensory suite, while likely not as advanced as Prowl’s when including his doorwings, was more than enough to be able to sense if someone was headed toward their location. 

And the sound of ground bridge portals appearing from out of nowhere would be obvious, even to Prowl with only human senses. Though right now, he was wondering if he ought to have questioned Jazz what exactly it was he was looking in this store for.

Food, most likely.

The moment Prowl entered the dimly lit space, some holes in the ceiling providing sunlight, he felt he may be in over his head while he began to explore. And another barrier soon became clear.

Prowl may have learned Jazz’s spoken language, but he had not properly learned the written language. This meant that Prowl was unable to read the writing on various items that he came across, even if he could see the glyphs…the lettering. So, Prowl merely looked each item he came across and picked out what looked like it could be something edible. 

Cans on shelves with what looked like human food Jazz had doodled to show him. 

An occasional in-tact box.

Other containers that were in the same aisle as things Prowl had seen in other drawings Jazz had shown him over the years. 

There were even some glass doors to open in some aisles but upon opening it, Prowl gave a wrinkle of his nose as a foul odor emitted and swiftly closed it. 

Unlikely to be edible, then. 

Prowl roamed some more aisles, making use of one of the carts he’d come across to load up everything he had found thus far. He added some other boxes and jars that were not behind those glass doors. Prowl believed it would be best to allow Jazz to look over the assortment of possible foodstuffs before attempting to eat anything. This was the smart route to go, because if Prowl was unable to read the word he saw but couldn’t understand, then who was to say that everything he took off the shelves was even food?

When Prowl reached the center of the grocery store, he paused to stare at the sight of a destroyed vehicle. It was obvious that it had dropped in from above, the ceiling overhead caved in, the rubble on top. 

But near it, amongst broken shelving, Prowl caught a faint scent that reminded him of the ‘soap’ that Jazz had been excited to have made three years ago with the appropriate materials (and not the ‘bland shit’ he had to use from another organic-species based world). Prowl dutifully placed some of the intact bottles and small boxes with the soap smell into the very overloaded cart. Satisfied, Prowl moved on, finishing his short stay in the store before he was satisfied that he’d found what could be useful. Shoving the cart toward the entrance of the store, where Jazz waited for him, Prowl paused at the appreciative whistle that came from his partner. 

“Damn, Prowler, you got the jackpot there.” Jazz popped the backseat doors. “Dunno how much we’re gonna find, so dump it all in wherever ya can; I even got a trunk!”

Prowl wordlessly considered why Jazz had storage space near his aft instead of using the subspace. 

No matter.

That was something else the two of them could discuss. 

Once the supplies were secured, Prowl got back into the driver’s side and Jazz moved off down the street to the next building not completely destroyed. 

This back and forth was repeated until Jazz’s trunk was filled, along with the backseat. In Prowl’s arms, he held what was presumably an expensive insulated sleeping bag that had somehow been untouched by the scattered debris from a sports store. 

Feeling worn out, like he’d worked in his office without consuming any energon or recharge for longer than was safe for most Cybertronians. Prowl couldn’t help but doze off, content with the rumble of Jazz’s engine as he drove back toward the warehouse.

Prowl roused from his dozing long enough to help unload all of the supplies out of Jazz’s backseat and trunk so that he could switch back to root mode. Once settled down on a chair Jazz produced from…somewhere, Prowl gratefully settled into it to watch as his partner began to and take a look through everything procured. Despite the ache in his head, Prowl remembered enough to tell Jazz his earlier observation. “While I understand your language, I find that the translation has not extended to written language. I can see the letters, but do not understand how to read it.” 

“Weird, I never thought of that not translatin’ over. That’s definitely something we should pass along and see if it’s just us or if anyone who’s taken up the language packet for humans has that problem.” Jazz hummed to himself. “Makes sense to why there’s some spoiled items. The numbers might not translate properly in an understandable way either. Some of it might be okay past the date, dependin’ on what it is and how it was packaged.”

Prowl watched these two piles begin to be sorted in a ‘spoiled’ pile and then a slightly larger maybe’ pile. ‘Canned goods’ became a third pile with decent dates safe for human consumption, and a fourth, much smaller pile was ‘Prowler is approved to eat this right now’. The last tiny pile gathered in front of Jazz contained soap, hand sanitizer, and a bottle of painkiller. 

“I think ya need some more sleep.” Jazz notes, helm tilting and visor brightening as he looked his partner over. “You’re fallin’ asleep upright in that chair.”

Prowl released a sigh of weariness but didn’t move when Jazz delicately draped the sleeping bag over him. But with his eyes already closed, it wasn’t like Prowl was going to argue over the glaring evidence of weariness (and slowly growing aches and pain within his head). But the ‘sleep’ couldn’t have been for very long, because Prowl was quickly woken by Jazz. 

“Time to go kick some Quint ass, Prowler!” Jazz said brightly, servos careful as he directed Prowl into the cockpit of his mecha, followed by two backpacks deposited out of the way. “Got the rest of the supplies in my subspace. Enemy force is about 2 miles out.”

Prowl hastily removed his glasses, but was careful to store them in their case before tucking it beneath the pilot seat. As the mecha pilot helmet was picked up, Prowl hesitated a brief instance before putting it on over his head. Once settled in the chair, Prowl acknowledged that while he may greatly dislike the process of the neural link up, he couldn’t deny the mecha’s efficiency. The second he was linked up and out of the warehouse, Prowl surged toward a clustered group of Quintesson scouts with a snap open of sensor panels and thrusters roaring to life. Prowl made the snap decision with the use of what felt like his tac net. To make the best use of his mecha in this situation, he and Jazz stood a better chance of Prowl took out as many scouts as possible in one quick headlong strike, with Jazz as backup.

Prowl devoted the most time into tearing through the enemy, but was aware of his surroundings enough to witness Jazz move about, light on his pedes, as he practically danced around the small impromptu battlefield. Prowl saw instantly that Jazz was working his way around the larger mecha’s attacks to make use of the opening given. Prowl was pleased to find he could ‘flutter’ the bisected wing-like sensor appendages his mecha had in a manner of quiet appreciation of Jazz’s skills translating well to his Cybertronian form. Prowl believed he may have even caught a glimpse of Jazz somehow flashing half his visor in an approximation of a wink, right before driving a vibroblade into a scout’s skull.

The fight was over quickly; this which turned out to be incredibly perfect timing.

“Jazz.” Prowl squinted within his mecha, head beginning to throb and pound, the ache even worse since he’d linked to the mecha. He heard Jazz say something, but couldn’t parse it out. Prowl sent his condition in response, and waited to see what Jazz had to say.

“Damn, babe, looks like you’re more susceptible to getting sick from the neural link than I was.” Jazz let out a frustrated vent. “It sucks, but you’re gonna have to stay linked up until we can get ya to a clinic that still outta be around.” 

“I will remain functional for a time.” Prowl offered. “I could take the painkillers that were found?”

“I’d normally say give it a go, but it ain’t touchin’ that neural link bullshit.” Jazz said with an unhappy frown, reaching out to rest a servo over one of Prowl’s mecha arms. “We’re close to the clinic, if it’s still there; about three to four hours of human time.”

“It’s within acceptable time range.” Prowl answered once he translated that amount to his own time calculations. “It is better to go now than wait until I am unable to move under my own power.” Prowl shivered involuntarily. “I do not mean to alarm you, but there is the faint sensation of something wet near the back of my head or neck.”

“Yeah, that ain’t a good sign.” Jazz said, concern evident even if he kept his calm. But Jazz didn’t speak as he would have while he led the way to this ‘clinic’.

Prowl knew that they’d reached their destination three and a half hours later from the way Jazz relaxed a tad, armored shoulders drooping in obvious relief at the sight of a small seaside town as it came into view.  But something bright caught both their attention, Jazz perking up to point while Prowl reached out to clap Jazz on a shoulder. “We’re being rushed.” But whatever Jazz could sense, it wasn’t worrying, as he even let out a delighted laugh. 

“Wow, that sure is a blazing EM field! It’d probably haven been too much for your doorwings.”

“Another Cybertronian?” Prowl prompted curiously.

“I think we found another case of species swap.” Jazz said by way of answer, just as the unfamiliar Cybertronian of vibrant orange, yellow and reds barreled forward. “His field is goin’ nuts, Prowler. Think it’s like…disbelief/excitement/happy?” 

Prowl stepped to the side just in time, because Jazz lunged abruptly leapt forward to meet the taller Cybertronian, the two of them colliding with one another.

This resulted in a horrendous metal on metal grinding noise as Jazz was lifted up by the other mech and spun around with a whoop. 

“Jazz! What’re you doing back on Earth?!”

“What about you, Hot Rod?” Jazz grinned, pretending to fend the other off once he was set back down in the ground. “Last I heard you were out on a solo mission on one of the moons near Cybertron. How’d you end up here?”

Prowl watched the exchange with an air of resignation while the two Cybertronians revved  engines and grinned at one another while they bounced in place, (though more on Hot Rod’s side as he also wriggled in place, spoiler bouncing).

“-Hot Rod! What are you-no, you have to stop going around hugging anyone you don’t know, it’s not-“ The voice cut off instantly as a black, gray and white mecha with gold, red and orange detailing came into view with a deep red visor. 

Tension was suddenly thick in the air. 

“Deadlock.” Prowl stated neutrally. “You are a mecha pilot?”

Jazz turned at the tone change, half shielding Hot Rod behind him, tense. Even if Jazz’s expression held wary interest over what Prowl assumed his partner would deem a ‘badass mecha design’ before assuring Prowl his mecha was better-looking in his optics (68%, the echo of the tac net supplied).

::Don’t worry, Prowler. I think yer mech looks much better than his, even if it is pretty badass::

Case in point, there.

Just as Deadlock was about to speak, perhaps to say something to Prowl, Jazz suddenly and unexpectedly burst into genuine laughter. 

Prowl didn’t know why until he caught sight of a decent-sized wrench flying through the air from out of seemingly nowhere, perfectly striking Deadlock’s shoulder while a voice bellowed. 

“You just gave away your position as well, kid!” 

Prowl’s bisected mecha wings hitched high, catching Hot Rod’s attention while Jazz kept his focus half in Deadlock, and half on what must have been a familiar, if grumpy, Cybertronian face to him.

::He’s the doctor I mentioned to you before. Ratchet. But last I checked he was human five years ago:: Jazz commed Prowl ::I think he’s even got an ambulance as an alt mode!::

Prowl looked again.

This other Cyberyronian, Ratchet, according to Jazz, was mainly white, marked with red like many medics were on Cybertron. Jazz appeared alongside Prowl, and deemed it necessary in the moment to steer him toward the scowling Ratchet while still maintaining a careful distance from Deadlock. 

“Heya Ratchet!” Jazz raised his free servo to wave it, in order to catch the attention of the doctor. 

Prowl had a klick to consider that this species swap being confirmed in more than just himself and Jazz was important, before the pain on his head became too difficult to ignore. The why and how this happens could be addressed at a later point; preferably once all five of them reached a defensible place. 

“How’s it goin’?” Jazz was clearly happy to see the other mech, even if Ratchet looked like he wanted nothing more than to strangle him, Hot Rod and Deadlock, the medic’s glower growing until his blue optics remained zeroed in on Jazz. 

Prowl saw the cheeky smile grow while Jazz assisted him in maneuvering his mecha forward. While Prowl was not able to sense EM fields, it was not hard to see the worry beneath the gruff ire on Ratchet’s face. But Jazz apparently did as he lightly spoke up. 

“Apart from Prowler here experiencing some neural link sickness, I’m just a little banged up on my armor.” Jazz’s arm wrapped loosely around the back of Prowl’s mecha, beneath the sensor wings and thrusters. 

“Symptoms?” Ratchet was short and to the point as his optics flashed to Prowl. 

Jazz must have sent it via a packet of data because Ratchet was suddenly cursing up a storm. 

“Start with bleeding from the neural link connection points first!” Ratchet began to stomp off along through the town, presumably headed toward his clinic. “I want him out of that walking metal pile of death the moment he gets it powered down in the hanger.” Ratchet paused then turned to jab a digit at Jazz. “And don’t think I won’t check you over too. It could just be damaged armor, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a weapon of some kind wedged under your plating too and just choosing to ignore the pain.”

“Ah, c’mon, Ratchet, do you really think I would do that to ya?” Jazz drawled with an impish smile. 

“Would you like me to answer that chronologically, going over each time you ‘forgot’ to seek out medical care after a raid, or alphabetically, so I can list off all the ways you not only ‘forgot’ medical care but also slipped out of my clinic without approval?”

“What can I say? I don’t do well cooped up, Ratch.” Jazz said with a casual shrug and mischievous grin. 

“I will weld your aft to the examination berth if you try to avoid a check-up now.” Ratchet continued on his way. 

“Missed ya too, Ratchet!” Jazz called after the grumbling doctor, before resuming leading the way. 

Prowl went along with him, his attention wavering as it took quite a lot of effort to lift each leg of the mecha. 

“I think I’ll go on patrol to see if there’s any Quints in the area…” Hot Rod announced into the sudden silence. “Maybe meet up with some of the pilots in the nearby areas.” Hot Rod let out an offended yelp and engine rev when Deadlock seized him by a part of his small spoiler, leading him along after Ratchet. Once he tossed a look from his visored mecha head by urning it to face Jazz and Prowl before looking away.

::This is what you deem safe?:: Prowl took in the answering smirk, recalled situations worse than this that Jazz had been perfectly fine by Jazz, and moved on. ::I have concerns regarding Deadlock’s presence here as well, alone with clear evidence of more species swaps occurring::

“We’ll make sure to talk it out once we get ya seen to.” Jazz said reassuringly, though he seemed to think Prowl might end up collapsing at any moment “Everything will work out Prowler, you’ll see.” 

“Your sudden optimism is concerningly patterning Optimus Prime, which is unusual for you.” Prowl stated while leaning heavily on Jazz. “Are you doing well?”

Jazz evaded answering with a conveniently timed interruption.

“Get your shiny metal asses into the hanger behind the clinic before I take you there myself!” Ratchet called out, banging something metal against his servo. 

Deadlock muffled what sounded like a laugh into a cough. 

Hot Rod groaned but was unable to flee due to Deadlock’s mecha servo still around his spoiler. 

Prowl caught fond amusement cross Jazz’s face before the blue visor turned to focus back on him. “Jazz?” Prowl prompted, despite staggering briefly. Once recovered, he allowed Jazz to help haul him along at a quicker speed. “I should refuel and recharge…or rather, eat, drink and sleep. I feel worse than before. Much too warm, and there are no vents to release the excess heat.”

“I gotcha boo.” Jazz patted one servo at the mecha’s waist. “Ratchet will know what kinda medicine will help the best once he knows what you’re dealing with. And if it’s just reactin’ to the neural link.” Jazz jerked his helm toward a cliff overhang further ahead, overlooking the sea and the town near it. The clinic itself was nestled in father beneath within the cliff, along with a newer, bigger hanger off to the side to accommodate both Cybertronians and mecha. “We’re almost there.”

Prowl let out a soft noise this time as he focused on walking along with Jazz’s assistance. The pounding in his had grew worse, his sight beginning to tunnel. The sooner Prowl was able to get detach from the mecha neural link, the better. 

Two Earth minutes later, and the small group reached the hanger. 

Prowl saw as much as heard the way Jazz’s plating had loosened a fraction from the tight press of it agaisnt his frame. This allowed for Prowl to lower his guard to match Jazz’s own. This was due to Prowl’s tac net indicating that there was a high percentage (82%) that Jazz felt safe, even in a place he’d not been to in years. Prowl trusted the assessment he ran, because the tac net, while no longer as quick as it would be were he Cybertronian, still allowed for him to run the numbers on scenarios and input around him.

Safety, for now.

Prowl ran a quick few calculations regarding Deadlock’s presence, as well as Ratchet and Hot Rod’s with the information he knew from before, and what he learned most recently upon seeing them now. It was interesting  that Deadlock didn’t rise higher than (48%) for danger. But even so…Prowl would have to rely on Jazz to keep an optic on Deadlock, since Prowl wouldn’t be able to once out of the mecha, unless Deadlock was leaving his own as well.

“C’mon, Prowler, time to shut the thinking and numbers off so Ratch here can make sure your currently human brain isn’t going to turn to mush running that tac net  and connecting to your mecha.” Jazz announced a little too cheerily. 

62% chance he was hiding his worry with that cheer.

“What is a tac net?” Ratchet asked as he began to shove things about in the room closest to the hanger. 

“A big ole tactical program jammed into Prowl’s processor made the journey over to his mecha so he can link up not only to his mecha but to his tac net to calculate and assess risks. Among other uses.” 

“Of course there’s more finicky hardware hooked up to his brain.” Ratchet grumbled darkly as he set something aside with a low unhappy growl. “It had better not be as bad as some of the things Phrama has done to people in the past in the earlier program tests...”

“Eh, probably worse.” Jazz said cheerfully. 

Prowl sighed; he was going to have to address his partner’s demeanor once he felt less like he was going to pass out. Priwl carefully maneuvered his mecha down to the hanger floor with Jazz’s aid, then began to disconnect from his mecha next. He was content to listen to Jazz gently tease the doctor due to the fact that Jazz’s current body language and demeanor practically radiated calm despite Prowl being unable to sense his EM field (even if most of it was likely a front). 

The pain that hit once disconnected was worse than before. 

Prowl remained cognizant enough to unlock and open the mecha’s chest before curling in on himself. He attempted to shakily breathe through the nauseating undulating wave of dizziness that was currently assailing him. At least Jazz was near; Prowl would make certain that he was seen to, for whatever terrible thing ailed him as a human. This whole ordeal, short as it had been thus far on Earth, made Prowl more determined than before to make certain that Jazz was not suffering from any side effects of becoming a Cybertronian.

Once Prowl was properly able to focus on anything but the terrible ache in his head, of course.

-

Note: Jazz and Prowl are so much fun to write. Adding in Ratchet and Deadlock/Drift. Hot Rod will be around for a bit, but not a main focus.

I would love to update 1-3 times a month, but I’ll see how that goes based off how typing up a draft from the outline then editing it goes for each new chapter.

Next chapter preview:

Ratchet has some things to say, Jazz learns what a loadbearer is, Deadlock (Drift) is high on alert over the entire situation, and Prowl gets to see what Ratchet looked like as a human, because Ratchet apparently figured out how to maintain a holoform for a short time.

For now, here’s another few wip snippets:

- Jazz having a good time for now. Prowl still adjusting. Ratchet, in the far distance: I have the indescribable urge to throw a wrench at a certain someone I’ve not seen in years. -

-

note: so this au is again a mix of :

I’m on observation duty mechanics/settings, Murderbot Diaries’ SecUnit type character, and transformers humanformers aus.

And maybe some eventual ‘lethal company’ inspired bits with random shit happening in the locations with items inexplicably appearing and random monster spawns courtesy of Shockwave or something. Since, you know, Jazz cannot and will not be made to sit still at a computer monitor forever for hours on end; he must have enrichment of some kind, so explore and gather information at the locations it is (Good thing Prowl will be going along with him at that point, though initially just following to try to communicate and Jazz going oh shit the intruder anomaly in person. They’ll get to communicating. Eventually).

Other note: Prowl staring intently into the cameras and having some implied trouble with his own body and feeling like something happened that he can’t remember.

-

There was static that briefly rippled across the screen, but that was it. 

Kind of a letdown, really, because as of two hours into his shiny ‘new’ job done outside of the usual Decepticon base, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

This, of course, was the worst, as boredom was almost just as bad as sitting still and not being constantly on the go, sneakily collecting random bits of conversation in the infiltrated base, or stealing physical pieces of intel that wouldn’t be discovered missing until it was too late to look back and see who had taken it. 

This job he was doing right now?

It sucked. 

Jazz half-wondered if Decepticon command had made this assignment specifically as a punishment for the rank and file, of whom m were whispering about the fantastical things that had been seen or mentioned about these locations. Jazz didn’t think he believed that that was all there was to it. There had to be something more to this particular job, and he just couldn’t see yet. 

This particular assignment given to ‘Ricochet’ was to go to five separate locations, and use the temp base to live in during the day then go into the monitoring area at night to check on each location’s set up security cameras. 

For anomalous activity. 

This was what had caught Jazz’s attention and drew him to the assignment. It had peaked his curiosity that so many people had been talking about possible bases for the Decepticons to make use of outside of their smaller mobile ones, but the supposed activity was making the lower rank nervous. 

To Jazz, it was kind of funny, until he also learned that Sohockwave or another scientist may have had a hand in causing some odd anomalies to occur in years past, so of course, Jazz made the executive decision to position himself to be chosen for the assignment. 

It was a perfect opportunity for his team to move in and for him to better communicate with them.

Plus, Jazz liked to be able to know what was going on, regardless of whether or not this assignment he’d undertaken as ‘Ricochet’ actually meant anything. 

A perfect cover for a cover, a lie within a lie, to make it seem like all was well and that no sir, there’s nothing questionable about Ricochet, look at him doing his work like a good little Decepticon grunt soldier, nothing to see here Soundwave. 

Meanwhile, this assignment would allow Jazz’s team to finally move in on intel he could pass along from one of the temp bases he was going. Then, while his team did their thing, Jazz would listen in on and gather intel at the different mini bases he would be staying at, and be able to receive small packets of encrypted info in return that wouldn’t be too damning if Soundwave intercepted it. 

Hell, Jazz going on his way out of the Decepticon base after months of living there posed as the Decepticon Ricochet within the low ranking grunts was why he hadn’t argued or protested against his ‘new assignment’. 

But at 2 am, Jazz was seriously beginning to wonder if this assignment was some kind of hazing ritual for those dumb enough to believe the rumors about anomalous occurrences. Or if the footage that Jazz currently cycled through in the middle of the night had some legitimate reasons to be watched. 

‘Test facility.’

How creatively named. 

An old haunt of Shockwave’s, or one that he intended to take at some point, when Decepticon forces got nearer to it in the future?

So far, Jazz had found some odd anomalies;  displaced dishes, missing pillows, extra cups, that sort of thing. Nothing that would cause so much alarm and disquiet amongst the bulk of the Decepticon forces that their leader decided to go through the effort to not only set up temp bases but almost immediately send someone out to deal with the rumors. 

And yet-

Items that vanished and reappeared after ‘reporting’ it was incredibly bizarre. 

Jazz planned to note it all down and do some investigating on his ‘downtime’ between these locations, to see if he could find rational explanations (or if this monitor could possibly be linked to some virtual reality or some game) for the what he saw so far or if it here was something going on that was actually real). He wanted to know which it was, because if it was the latter, that would be incredibly concerning, as it could compromise the intel Jazz gained. 

If the former? 

Of the anomalies being real?

Jazz would need to see more, but he felt he’d take real over a virtual reality situation, because that  would mean possible errors in intel gained. But if the anomalies were real in some way, then Jazz would have to admit that there was strange shit going on in the world (possibly caused by Shockwave’s or another’s older experiments from the past).

Oh.

There was a change in the photo there.

Reporting…and done.

Another ten minutes slipped by in complete boredom. 

Jazz idly tapped a key on the crunchy keyboard as he cycled through the footage available, then froze in place as Jazz stared at the rather normal screen before him.

There was absolutely no way he’d just seen that.

With a cautious tap of the keyboard, the monitor screen flickered back to the previous security camera. 

This one was labeled as ‘Patient Zero room’, the footage, showing a closed door, but the wide angle of the camera allowed Jazz to see a hall on one side of the door, and then partially into the room itself through a dark window on the right. 

Only the door was currently wide open with a light on inside. 

That would have been enough cause for concern( but that wasn’t all Jazz saw. 

There was also a man standing there, right in the middle of the open doorway. His head was tipped back in order to make direct eye contact with the camera. 

The man’s bright blue eyes seemed to bore into Jazz’s, despite it being an image on a monitor from a remote, secure location.

Jazz stared back at the man who’d inexplicably appeared on camera, one hand hovering over the mouse, his other hand pressed heavily into the desk.

The rather crap quality from this security cam made it difficult to make features out properly, but the man appeared to be wearing lightweight if reinforced armor (no helmet or anything on his head) with a red crest on the chest plate that matched the splash of high lights in the man’s hair, and a moveable lower plates over the abdomen that led to the armor over the hips. 

What.

The fuck.

Was this?

That sure was an unblinking stare. 

Jazz was prompted to move when the camera began to zoom in on its own toward the man. 

Nope. 

Jazz wasn’t playing that kind of game here. The man didn’t look away once, intense gaze on the camera the entire time. 

Jazz clicked on the mouse to bring up the report, selected the room and then picked

‘Intruder’, as that was an option to choose.

That sure as hell described what he was seeing. 

Waiting until whatever server this setup was connected to processed the request, Jazz was subjected to the unwavering blue gaze, until the screen went blank, before rebooting itself back. 

The door to the patient room was closed. 

The light was off.

There was no man standing there. It was as if he hadn’t been there at all, making Jazz question his sanity at 2 past whatever the fuck o’clock in the morning. 

And things only went downhill from there, with even more distressing things beginning to occur on screen. It was almost as if the intruder Jazz had seen summoned a host of anomalies, just to get back at Jazz for questioning the validity of the lower ranks of the Decepticons over these five locations.  The ‘highlights’ of the rest of the night included:

A dead body in the operating room, the isolation room suddenly becoming a gigantic open space, a whole ass giant desk flipped onto its side in the meeting room and then, to top it all off to concerning, the same man from before stood staring up at the camera at Jazz from within the locked, barricaded, bunker. 

Though the camera didn’t zoom in on the man this time, Jazz took a little more time to commit to memory the details of the armor and the plain skin tight clothing beneath it that peeked out in some areas (Jazz grimaced in sympathy at go uncomfortable that looked to wear-he loved his non-uniform issued comfy sweater with front pocket, and jeans that had his hunting knife strapped to one thigh).

The man did nothing but gaze quietly at the camera. 

Jazz didn’t get any warnings about the anomalies piling up, so he finished his scrutiny of the other man. Of his facial features, just in case, because this man in his armor looked far too real to just be some anomaly that showed up at random in one of these locations. This man may have a blank face, but intense eyes gaze said there was someone home as he stared up at the camera, arms at his sides as he did nothing more than watch and breathe. 

Jazz set the camera to reset with a report. 

It was now 4 am.

The intruder didn’t show up again during Jazz’s shift. 

But that didn’t mean Jazz didn’t see a small photo at one point (an image anomaly) of a man that looked remarkably like the intruder he’d seen twice early that morning. 

Only in the photo he was human.  

While Jazz didn’t have enough information to come to a solid answer, he had enough to make an educated guess. 

The man he saw was armed and dangerous in some way, in that Jazz knew he ought to keep his distance until he knew more about what was going on (and if the man would should up elsewhere or outside of the security cameras running in that Test Facility). But what Jazz did know, regardless of the things he saw happen that night, that  something was very, very wrong. At least with this first location that Jazz had been sent to observe. 

The unsettling sensation of being watched lingered long after Jazz had shut down the monitor and went to bed in the next small room over. But due to the reinforced wall, he did not realize that, an hour later, a figure came to stand in front of the door to the temp base, and remained in the same exact spot until Jazz woke up late in the afternoon. 

When he was ready to move on, he looked around carefully (never knew if Soundwave was going to send his little scouts to spy on people) but what he saw made Jazz stare. 

There was a single set of footprints wearing boots that led to and from the temp base, the originating point coming from the direction of the Test Facility. 

Well then.

Good thing that he was already packed up to go. He do not have time to waste, at least until he got to his day off to deal with whatever the mystery footprints meant, cause they sure as hell didn’t belong to any Decepticon he knew of (yes, he made sure he recognized the footwear of his enemies-had to in order to put names to ‘em). Jazz got onto his ATV and got on his way to the next location miles away. Jazz had made  up his mind to do some sneaky digging around at the next location’s admin offices (or whatever the amusement park equivalent was) later that night before his shift was set to start.

-

The area of the temp base that Jazz left behind remained silent for some minutes. Then, the man from the security cameras, wearing the same armor (yet a rather lost expression) came from out of the cluster of nearby trees to come to a halt before the ATV tracks. 

Prowl.

He was Prowl.

Prowl stared down at the tracks, then looked up to trace the way the ATV had driven off. Giving himself a little nod, he began to walk alongside the tracks that had been left in the dirt. 

Prowl…

He needed to get this person’s attention. 

Prowl found he was having trouble speaking. Not because he was incapable of it, but because something had been done to prevent him from producing sound, which was a disconcerting thing to find upon awakening in an unfamiliar place. But Prowl 

believed he could write just fine, so he just needed to be able to locate a pen and paper or some equivalent, so he could communicate with the man wearing a visor, dressed in much more comfortable clothing than he saw. The man who was watching certain cameras within the Test Facility that Prowl had woken up in, disoriented and very confused, weeks ago, using those weeks to learn how to move his body again and at least temporarily come to terms with what had been done to it agaisnt his will. 

At least, Prowl didn’t feel quite himself. 

The internal weapons system within his arms was also quite disquieting.

Prowl did find that he was torn on how exactly to feel about the being able to think and calculate faster than he could before (at least, that’s what it seemed like). It was likely having access to what felt like a high end computer processor in his own head. It allowed Prowl to see through the hidden camera in the room where the other man had been watching the monitor, then read some of the notes the other man had been making by hand. 

Blue visor.

Ridiculous looking helmet with  rounded horn like attachments on it, and an odd, faint humming noise that came from the interior of the man’s helmet.

But those notes…

Prowl thought that if he could get this man’s attention, this ‘Ricochet’ (according to the IDs that Prowl was somehow able to access) then perhaps Prowl would be able to make some progress. He could figure out what happened to him before waking up, and then make plans to deal with the culprits responsible in a way that he wouldn’t be taken back and...experimented on.

There was no other explanation for why Prowl had woken in that room surrounded by that medical equipment, or for the way he had an almost desperate need to go into the heavily barricaded and locked [REDACTED] labeled room. 

In there were answers, and Prowl needed them to answer his questions and bring into light those who’d done…whatever it was to his body. It was both mechanical and alive all at once and he…he didn’t…

Prowl forcefully dismissed that line of thought and refocused on Ricochet.

Ricochet…he appeared to be a spy or saboteur, based off of some of the things he’d written on the pad of paper (Prowl again pushed aside the unease of being able to access the hidden camera where Ricochet was, without a computer of his own). 

The mention of a ‘Shockwave’ or other individual, possibly being responsible for some ‘anomalous activity’ at the facility, along with four other locations. 

Prowl considered his options. There were very few that didn’t expose him to unknown people, nor give him enough time to be able to figure out what happened to him that would explain the huge disquieting blank in his memory apart from a name and the desperation for that one single room in the facility. 

Something missing. 

Something lost. 

Replaced with something that was both wrong and not.

…Prowl stopped the line of thought as he noticed the beginning of a loop in his mental hardware. 

Such an oddity to have a processor within a human brain. 

Giving his head a brief shake, Prowl went with what he assumed to be the safest route, based off some calculations he ran without even thinking about it.

Ricochet. 

Now, Prowl only had to find a way to convince the man that he wasn’t there to interrupt his infiltration, or whatever it was he was up to, and only wanted to request assistance.

(Don’t think about the weird desire to follow orders that was at the back of his mind; there weren’t any orders, just a more disturbing set of abilities he wasn’t aware of).

The HUD screen that had overlaid Prowl’s sight when he’d woken with a visor over his eyes inexplicably scared Prowl enough that he’d forcibly torn it off, causing some damage, as he tossed the visor across the room).

Prowl forced himself to walk along, dismissing questions he had no answers to. But what he wasn’t aware of was that following after Ricochet that day had been the best choice he could have made with the limited options he had. 

Prowl didn’t realize that he would eventually gain a valuable, if incredibly chaotic ally who would play off well of Prowl’s own strengths, both men able to work together to commit a sudden multitude of (justified) crimes to accomplish their separate goals. 

-

This is consuming my mind, but at the same time, I am typing up more of Topsy Turvy.

note- the [REDACTED] room will be lore important for this au idea. Some fucked up things happened to Prowl and little blip of memory will kind of show that and make it worse as you think being a human turned SecUnit would be bad enough but there’s more to it than that.

Behold, initial map layout of the temp base for Jazz where he ‘observes’ locations and some chatter about it:

Each base has:

-A kitchen that has a counter, a mini fridge, microwave and a small table with a chair. -Basic bathroom with a simple shower (cold most of the time)

-Bedroom contains a glorified cot for a bed, made bearable to lie on with a thin mattress pad, old sheets and some actual decent blankets. -Supplies provided are shelf stable foods, water bottles that don’t appear to have been opened or tampered with, random assortment of batteries and mismatched winter clothing in cooler locations (abandoned hospital and test facility)

-reinforced walls around the bedroom, monitoring area and supply room. -each base room is essentially the same modified storage containers at the outskirts of each location of interest for ease of convenience (at the cost of comfort for the individual who is tasked with the observation of each of the nearby locations). - Location info with little doodles of one of the ‘camera’ locations, even if I doubt the camera placements would be shown like it would in a game. Will mainly be stills and some descriptions, most likely.

And then, there’s this list of Jazz’s initial equipment that he has access to for this undercover mission he gave himself which includes:

-half helmet that covers head to the base of spine and along the cheeks, kind of like a motorcycle helmet but less bulky, with build-in headphones (basically jazz customizes it when he receives it so that it has the ‘audial horns’ he has as a Cybertronian). -this helmet also holds circuitry that Soundwave implanted in each helmet that would sneakily inject a needle into the wearer and do some high tech future bs that allows him to passively observe the ‘observer’ with possible nefarious ways to incapacitate the observer. (Not yet decided if Jazz was in the headspace to check for tricks when he received it, or he realizes too late and has to compensate for the possible compromises/maybe he can fiddle with the data being sent out so he doesn’t give away his cover story). Either way he plans to bring the helmet back for Wheeljack and co to play with the useful bits of tech in it. -Jazz gets the complimentary horror flashlight but it actually has a good battery life and is bright enough to actually be useful

-Within the monitoring area, Jazz had a basic add keyboard and mouse, but actual decent monitors to keep an eye on the security cams of whatever location he’s near (each temp base has the same set up an Jazz vows to steal a good keyboard and mouse from one of the locations). -radio for communication that is of good quality but Jazz is sure to disable the listening in feature out of precaution

-portable personal radio that Jazz brings with him from temp base to temp base to chill to during downtime. -hunting knife he smuggled in with him initially, so if Jazz ends up having any close encounters with the Decepticons if he’s found out before his team can get the intel they need. -panic button given to him by Autobots in case of a close encounter with Decepticons and he can’t get away quick enough it sends out a beacon to the Autobots only and the signal attaches itself to Jazz’s location in the event he is taken prisoner.

-other weapons can be obtained at the locations if Jazz feels the need to be armed.

Prowl’s initial equipment list (lmao)

-the clothes he’s wearing beneath armor when he wakes up

-the data that he can access in his processor that doesn’t seem like it’s normal from human to, you know, have access to

-built in weapons that are a thing Prowl will have to process

-a set of keys he doesn’t know where they go to

-the security cameras watching him (not equipment per say, but it gives Prowl the idea that he can locate this person who may have more accessible databases to figure out wtf happened to him)

[Someone pls help this man Prowl needs to be given some TLC, then a blank check to go raze the Decepticon bases with Jazz to go cause as much trouble as possible while figuring out what happened to him]

A thing that happens at some point:

Jazz using a handheld device with the security cameras (able to be scrolled through at will) and Jazz is at the amusement park and of course it’s nighttime and of course he has to go in and out quick to grab whatever it is he’s grabbing so of course that’s where the intruder (Prowl) shows up. Jazz ends up scurrying around the amusement park and ducking near different rides and stands and stuff as he checks the feeds and keeps getting Prowl coming closer and closer on the camera, always staring directly into it so it looks like he can see Jazz, and this time it’s too close for comfort as Jazz gets what he needs and books it for the temp base only to hear himself being followed and he is not messing with whatever is going on until he knows more so he shuts himself in the temp base and it’s unfortunate that this one has a window at the door because now Prowl is staring at him through the window unblinkingly and following him with his gaze as Jazz paces around trying to decide what to do about this supposed anomalous intruder actually following him around the places.

Prowl, watching Jazz in the amusement park and now in his temp base, wondering how he’s supposed to ask for assistance when Jazz keeps moving so quickly and how does he show that he means no harm when Jazz has experienced some trouble before at the other places before and Prowl hasn’t been able to intervene. Prowls solution is to maintain eye contact then raise his hand to give it a little wave and a little twitch of his lips in an attempt to smile but just comes off as unnatural and creepy.

Jazz: oh shit oh fuck this intruder-labeled guy on the cameras is now showing up in person more often and now he’s waving at me what does it mean does Soundwave know that Jazz is the infiltrator or is his cover not blown and Jazz just now has this very persistent man following him around? Jazz gives the creepy staring man the middle finger, wanting him to clear off with all the crap he already has going on, only to see a head tilt and then the man returning the middle finger with a perplexed look now. Jazz almost smiles at that before attempting to tell himself off to not interact with the entity or whatever the man was and to not trust the presumable harmlessness because Jazz isn’t blind and can see it’s some kind of techno organic human. prowl: surely it won’t take too much longer to build trust so that o can have assistance in taking down the one responsible for doing this unwanted procedure to his body. jazz: internal screaming he wants to sleep while he can but Prowl is unmovable. And when Jazz does go to bed Priwl stands outside his window and stares at him until Jazz just goes into a light doze. When he’s awake Prowl is gone but in his place is a small poster from the amusement park with the words “hello’ and ‘assistance’. Jazz now has more to contemplate. prowl, watching from nearby, proud of himself for the communication attempt while he checks his systems and waits.

Long story short: Jazz and Prowl (eventually) meet one another in person after some misunderstandings and become a terrifying force to be reckoned with; one finds somewhere to call home and another has a great time going around with the former to cause chaos for the Decepticons on a whole (and rock the shit of one scientist, possibly two, while they're at it and yeah there’s anomalies about but war crimes come first against their enemies).

More below since I get chatty but mostly just about Jazz and Prowl cause I’ve got. Thoughts (short version first then the longer explanation):

My plan now is get a good chunk of the next few chapters’ outlines typed up, and see where I’m at, as some changes are being made as I type up to make the story flow as best I can. My hope is to get a new chapter posted 16-18th of January.

My hope is to go back and forth between typing the draft outline up and editing/posting a chapter at least twice a month (or more if it’s a shorter chapter). I’ll have a better idea once I get the next few chapters typed up.

Hi, I finished the chapter! It's up on Ao3, or under the cut of this post. Enjoy my descent into insanity where I made this a longer chapter than intended because I was having fun while editing it.

*skitters off into the darkness to throw myself into bed*

So whenever prowl and Jazz do anything together (searching for supplies, maybe holding hands or chilling while Jazz is in minibot loadbearer form hanging out with human prowl, sharing some hidden joke, etc) it can be assumed that Tarantulas is watching from somewhere offscreen, and crashing out hard with varying levels of intensity and emotion, especially when he sees just how close Jazz and Prowl are to one another and there he is, left behind and forgotten…how dare Prowl discard what they had before etc etc etc so Tarantulas is all:

(some memes and gifs)

And considering 10 lines for three to four chapters just became 12 pages (24 if you count the back) of handwriting in the outline bringing the total to about 45 pages (90 including the back pages). I still have several chapters to get to the end of it…I’m not sure how long this fic will end up being, (ch 2 was one half page of outline and ch 5 may take up about 4 outline pages) but I’m definitely going to be working on it well into the new year. I’m very invested in this fic and where it’s headed now, especially once into edits XD

tf au mashups are fun

some draft snippets of ch 5 below:

tarantulas added in and being a problem for prowl, breakdown who is just chilling there taking a break from piloting then going ??? WTF happened where did this giant fruity red diva of a metal not-man come from? and then BD days later to Knockout going all why am *I*now suddenly a robot and you’re a mecha pilot??? Because why not add em in I liked the idea of ratchet needing to learn about cybertronian medic stuff from a knockout who’s half distracted being ‘ewww I’m a squishy human’ while also ogling breakdown as a cybertronian. Wheeljack and perceptor being swapped (a mecha pilot and cybertronian respectively) who are the first to confuse Orion pax, followed by Sunstreaker and sideswipe (now cyberteonian) and Bluestreak (now a mecha pilot and stressed for prowl)

Yeah. Orion Pax (the human) decided he absolutely needed to be in the fic for jazz to tell him he’s alive and back to earth after years of being presumed dead but Orion doesn’t tell Jazz that he’s in a similar boat as him (a Cybertronian) and that there’s more pilots/mechs that appeared on earth like Jazz and prowl from a portal and help why are they calling him Optimus prime??

And then there’s mirage and hound, and Jazz is all ‘hey mirage what’s up how’d you and hound get of Cybertron too?…hey wanna go do spy/espionage things with me to get the jump on tarantulas and then maybe the quints?’ and prowl is just in the background almost ripping his hair out because ‘no Jazz do *not* get a now human mirage around tarantulas’. And then shit happens and now mirage is also a problem but a hidden one until later. and then Jazz goes all oops ‘guess I have to fix that now’ and prowl is just. Resigned to his partner going about crazy shenanigans but at least jazz is double armored as a load bearer Cybertronian. Cue more of the outline to write out into chapters.

(Not explicitly mentioned in the fic outline as of yet, but back on Cybertron, poor Optimus prime is wondering why he’s suddenly a mecha pilot and very confused as to where everyone went that had gone on a similar mission as prowl and Jazz).