Transformers (Red Alert/Firestar)
Aug. 27th, 2007 07:15 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
apathocles.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kinkfestTitle: Kindling
Author: Apathy
Rating: PG-13, if that.
Warnings: Vague sexuality of the giant robot variety.
Word count: 2221.
Prompt: Red Alert/Firestar: Love the one you're with - "I'm your Venus, I'm your fire, your desire"
Summary: Two's a crowd.
A/N: With this, I am DONE. And also horribly, horribly late. And the fic has a pastede-together-yaye feel to it. Oh, well.
Okay, you see up there in the prompt, where it talks about fire and desire and all that good stuff? This fic is pretty much the antithesis of that. (Well, except for the fire. That's there. It's just a little more... literal than the requester probably intended.) They just wanted to talk. It took way too much work just to get them to do what little they did. My apologies.
This is set on Cybertron, somewhere between the end of the second season and the original movie.
They don't so much climb down through the entrance as fall, tumbling in an untidy tangle of limbs and equipment. Firestar manages to half-catch Red Alert before he hits the floor, reducing the impact from injurious to merely ego-bruising.
She lowers herself the rest of the way down, flicking the switch to close the entrance and return it to its camouflaged state. 'You okay?'
He sits up gingerly and props himself against the wall, face twisting in discomfort. 'I'll live.'
'Well, hopefully we can do better than that. Can't have you running around playing the hero if you're not firing on all cylinders, can we?' She crouches next to him, checking him over for injuries with impersonal hands. Inferno will kill her if anything happens to Red.
His laugh is self-depreciating. 'We both know who was the hero out there. I was just the backup.'
'Oh, cram it. The humble act might fool Inferno, but you'll have to do a lot better than that with me.'
He winces as she examines his right side, and she pauses, concerned. 'Lift your arm.'
He does so reluctantly, raising it the bare minimum required for her to access the affected area. She shuffles around, trying to get the best view. The hideout is dark and cramped, only intended for the shortest of short-term stays. The sweet tang of smoke hangs heavy in the air.
Her optics auto-adjust to compensate for the lack of light, and she hisses. 'Slag, it's pretty serious. How on Cybertron did you manage to take that much heat damage? The fire was only a Class 3.'
Red Alert smiles ruefully. 'Earth mode, I'm afraid. I'm not as well-armoured as I used to be.'
Her horror must be showing in her expression, because he laughs and waves it off. 'It's not that bad -- I'm a lot faster, now. Not a trade-off I'd make if I had a choice, but it does come in handy.'
Well, if he thinks he's okay with it, then she's not going to bring him down with her pity. She grins, gently removing twisted, blackened panelling. 'Never figured you for a speed freak.'
'You figured correctly.'
'Oh, come on -- with all that power, surely you've sometimes just gone "to slag with it" and put the pedal down.'
'I most certainly have not.'
'What's it like? How fast can you go?'
'Almost a quarter of my old speed again, and no, I don't go fast unless it's absolutely necessary. Humans have speed laws for good reasons, and it's my duty to respect that.'
Firestar starts carefully patching up vital connections. 'If you were just about anyone else, I wouldn't believe you. As it is, I still think you're full of slag. I know you, Red. If there's a way to do something that doesn't involve breaking the law, you'll find it.'
'If there was an emergency, I would go faster, but never to full speed; the risk to the human population was too high. And when we were travelling long-distance, we could only go as fast as our slowest team member.'
He hesitates for several long moments, before shaking his head, the slightest hint of a smile threatening to break out.
'My second day back on Cybertron, I had to cross the Acid Wastes with a squadron of Decepticons in pursuit. I found out then just how fast I could go.'
She finishes the last of the temporary repairs, re-attaching his warped armour as best she can. 'And you loved every moment of it.'
'During those few moments I wasn't convinced I was about to die a horrible, fiery death? Definitely.'
They share a knowing grin, and then he reaches over suddenly and grabs her foot. She yelps, catching herself with her hands before she can topple over onto her aft.
'Hand me the boltcutters and sealant, if you will, and I'll fix this foot of yours.'
How did he -- ? 'There's nothing wrong with my foot.'
'And I'm the Grand High Priestess of Kaon. Boltcutters, please.'
She gives in, wiggling into a semi-comfortable position in what little space she can find. 'How did you know? There's no cosmetic damage at all.'
He taps his left audial. 'Your ankle mechanism is grinding, and there's a problem with your hydraulics.'
'You can hear that?' She wonders just how the frag he's coping with all the sound coming from the nearby explosions. It's annoying her, and her auditory senses don't go much beyond the average.
'Yes.' He pauses, making a face as he realises the extent of the damage. 'Also, you were limping, and you screamed something about how next time you see Ramjet, you're going to, ahem, "twist him up until he's sucking his own fragging exhaust".'
'... Oh.'
Silence falls, punctuated only by the thunder of nearby fighting. There's absolutely no point in going outside; the Decepticons are advancing en masse. The two of them have already performed their assigned duty -- putting out a large fire before it spread to a hidden emergency medical bay -- and now they just have to wait here and conserve energy until the Decepticons pass, so they can clean up the mess. Again.
Unless they're discovered, of course.
Firestar refuses to think about that particular scenario any longer than absolutely necessary. After all, she's been successfully hiding out from the Decepticons for four million years; she can manage a little longer.
She allows her processor to drift, keeping one level of consciousness tuned into her surroundings while thinking things through on another level.
'I miss him, too.'
The frank admission startles her out of her reverie. She twists around to get a better look at Red Alert, but he keeps his optics fixed firmly on his work.
'Your list of super senses includes mind-reading, huh?'
'Neither of us has seen him in almost a deca-cycle. If you didn't miss him, I'd be worried.' He smiles wistfully. 'You know he'd be out there right now, throwing himself into the action despite all common sense.'
'Which is why Optimus kept him on Earth. He may be the best at his job, but stealth isn't really one of his strong points.' She knows this, and yet she can't control the twinge of irrational irritation. Optimus finally sends back some of his crew to Cybertron after four million years... and of all the mechs she could get partnered up with, it's the one Inferno's been interfacing with ever since they got split up. Primus has a twisted sense of humour.
They're old friends, sure, and they've come to know each other even better in the past deca-cycle, but Inferno has always been the centre of their universe, the two of them forever revolving around him. The days back when the three of them performed emergency duties together on Cybertron were fun, but there had always been something extra moving underneath, something beyond what she and Inferno shared alone. Inferno's optics were appreciative, his words suggestive... and Red, bless his jittery energon pump, would become flustered at every overture, finding any excuse to turn tailpipe and run.
He seems to have settled somewhat since then. Oh, sure, he's still a glitched-out, paranoid little freak at times, but the time spent on Earth seems to have been good for him.
Inferno has been good for him.
She's surprised. She should be jealous; and she is, but not nearly as much as she thought she'd be. She's had a long time to get used to the idea of not having Inferno; all things considered, sharing him with a good friend is far from the worst that could happen.
Besides, she's pretty slagging sure that it would've turned out this way, anyway. Inferno never could take his optics off Red... except when he couldn't take them off her.
And okay, sometimes she couldn't take her eyes off Red, either, although she blames this entirely on Inferno's bad influence.
Red Alert closes up the panelling on her foot. 'All done. You still shouldn't put any more weight on it than absolutely necessary, but at least the sharp edge has been removed, and the hydraulics are no longer leaking.'
'Thanks.' She lifts her leg off his lap, but doesn't move from next to him. Not that she has much choice in the matter; their hiding space doesn't allow for choosiness when it comes to these things.
And in a moment of reckless stupidity, curiosity gets the better of her. This has been going on for so long, now, and she just needs to know. She reaches out and tilts his ash-streaked face towards her, slowly, carefully, so as not to spook him.
'Um... Firestar?'
'I've been thinking.'
'Have you, now?' He's cautious, but not panicking outright.
'Yeah. I've been thinking that the three of us have been swerving around this issue for way too long.'
'This issue?'
'The three of us. Together.'
'Um. I. Um.' He closes his optics for a moment, obviously trying to get his processor under control. 'Together?'
'You know that Inferno isn't just going to forget about me, now that there's more contact between Earth and Cybertron. And I know he's not going to just forget about you.' She leans in closer, taking her time, giving him the opportunity to back out. 'Face it, Red: you always knew it was going to end up like this.'
'I... I did. I think.' He still hasn't pulled back – remarkable, considering how he used to react to advances from the two of them – but his expression holds a kind of vague terror.
She strokes a thumb over his lower lip, and he trembles, squeezing his optics shut. 'No. I -- can't.'
Disappointed, she lets her hand fall away.
He opens his optics, fixing his gaze on hers. 'Not without his permission.'
Firestar knows full well that they have Inferno's permission – and then some – and she knows that he knows it, too. Still, she's happy to let him pretend. And it'd probably be best to wait until Inferno is here, anyway.
She can't entirely hide the shiver that runs through her energon pump at the thought of a proper reunion. Primus, it's been so long....
She edges sideways to give him space, and injects her voice with all the airiness she can muster, seriousness dropped for the moment.
'Oh, I'm sure he'd give us permission. In fact, I know he already has.'
His mouth twists into a slight smirk, apprehension warring with amusement. 'Oh, really? What did he say?'
'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'
'Try me.'
Her optics flare in good-natured exasperation. 'He said it'd be -- ' she puts on an exaggerated accent ' -- hot'. She grins. '"Like burning", I do believe he specified.'
He facepalms, groaning and shaking his head. 'Actually, I can completely believe he said that.'
'Bit of a one-track mind, our mech has.'
'Just a bit.'
The smile fades a little, giving way to concern. 'And what about your mind?'
He looks almost lost, desire obviously warring against his principles. Just her luck to end up with two mechs who are so into honour and rules and all that stuff. It's kind of endearing, though, the way his optic ridge furrows in confusion.
'I... don't know.' Backpedalling, he quickly adds, 'I mean, it could work. I want it to work. But this is a war. We've already been separated from Inferno for almost a deca-cycle, with the four million deca-cycles you spent apart on top of that. Things are coming to a head. I don't know if this is the best time to escalate things.'
She can hear what's left unspoken: I don't want to lose anyone else.
And she understands. Primus, all those countless vorns spent not knowing whether Inferno was alive... of course she understands.
And she also understands that this is precisely why they should do this thing. Because they could all get deactivated tomorrow. Because if they can grab some happiness in amongst all the death and destruction, then why not?
And really, consolidating them all into one relationship is much more efficient.
But Red still looks hesitant, and she decides to let the subject drop for now. Inferno will be able to convince him. He always does.
Instead, she settles in close, arm draped across his shoulders, careful to avoid his injured side. Protective, comforting, but nothing more. He stiffens briefly, but she makes no further move, and he slowly relaxes against her.
The walls shudder with the force of the explosions above, the very air itself seeming to reverberate. The Decepticons are directly overhead; going outside would be suicide.
'It's hard to believe how much Cybertron has changed in all these years.'
She jumps a little, not expecting his words, barely audible over the noise. He doesn't seem to notice, continuing to talk quietly, staring off at some distant thing only he can see.
'How much you've all changed. Intellectually, I know how long I spent in stasis, but it never felt real until I came back.'
She waits through the long pause, not wanting to interrupt.
'Almost everyone I know is long gone.' His head hangs low, voice crackling with static. 'Knew.'
And there's nothing she can say to that -- she knows full well how cold such comforts are -- so she just pulls him closer, and holds on tight.
Author: Apathy
Rating: PG-13, if that.
Warnings: Vague sexuality of the giant robot variety.
Word count: 2221.
Prompt: Red Alert/Firestar: Love the one you're with - "I'm your Venus, I'm your fire, your desire"
Summary: Two's a crowd.
A/N: With this, I am DONE. And also horribly, horribly late. And the fic has a pastede-together-yaye feel to it. Oh, well.
Okay, you see up there in the prompt, where it talks about fire and desire and all that good stuff? This fic is pretty much the antithesis of that. (Well, except for the fire. That's there. It's just a little more... literal than the requester probably intended.) They just wanted to talk. It took way too much work just to get them to do what little they did. My apologies.
This is set on Cybertron, somewhere between the end of the second season and the original movie.
They don't so much climb down through the entrance as fall, tumbling in an untidy tangle of limbs and equipment. Firestar manages to half-catch Red Alert before he hits the floor, reducing the impact from injurious to merely ego-bruising.
She lowers herself the rest of the way down, flicking the switch to close the entrance and return it to its camouflaged state. 'You okay?'
He sits up gingerly and props himself against the wall, face twisting in discomfort. 'I'll live.'
'Well, hopefully we can do better than that. Can't have you running around playing the hero if you're not firing on all cylinders, can we?' She crouches next to him, checking him over for injuries with impersonal hands. Inferno will kill her if anything happens to Red.
His laugh is self-depreciating. 'We both know who was the hero out there. I was just the backup.'
'Oh, cram it. The humble act might fool Inferno, but you'll have to do a lot better than that with me.'
He winces as she examines his right side, and she pauses, concerned. 'Lift your arm.'
He does so reluctantly, raising it the bare minimum required for her to access the affected area. She shuffles around, trying to get the best view. The hideout is dark and cramped, only intended for the shortest of short-term stays. The sweet tang of smoke hangs heavy in the air.
Her optics auto-adjust to compensate for the lack of light, and she hisses. 'Slag, it's pretty serious. How on Cybertron did you manage to take that much heat damage? The fire was only a Class 3.'
Red Alert smiles ruefully. 'Earth mode, I'm afraid. I'm not as well-armoured as I used to be.'
Her horror must be showing in her expression, because he laughs and waves it off. 'It's not that bad -- I'm a lot faster, now. Not a trade-off I'd make if I had a choice, but it does come in handy.'
Well, if he thinks he's okay with it, then she's not going to bring him down with her pity. She grins, gently removing twisted, blackened panelling. 'Never figured you for a speed freak.'
'You figured correctly.'
'Oh, come on -- with all that power, surely you've sometimes just gone "to slag with it" and put the pedal down.'
'I most certainly have not.'
'What's it like? How fast can you go?'
'Almost a quarter of my old speed again, and no, I don't go fast unless it's absolutely necessary. Humans have speed laws for good reasons, and it's my duty to respect that.'
Firestar starts carefully patching up vital connections. 'If you were just about anyone else, I wouldn't believe you. As it is, I still think you're full of slag. I know you, Red. If there's a way to do something that doesn't involve breaking the law, you'll find it.'
'If there was an emergency, I would go faster, but never to full speed; the risk to the human population was too high. And when we were travelling long-distance, we could only go as fast as our slowest team member.'
He hesitates for several long moments, before shaking his head, the slightest hint of a smile threatening to break out.
'My second day back on Cybertron, I had to cross the Acid Wastes with a squadron of Decepticons in pursuit. I found out then just how fast I could go.'
She finishes the last of the temporary repairs, re-attaching his warped armour as best she can. 'And you loved every moment of it.'
'During those few moments I wasn't convinced I was about to die a horrible, fiery death? Definitely.'
They share a knowing grin, and then he reaches over suddenly and grabs her foot. She yelps, catching herself with her hands before she can topple over onto her aft.
'Hand me the boltcutters and sealant, if you will, and I'll fix this foot of yours.'
How did he -- ? 'There's nothing wrong with my foot.'
'And I'm the Grand High Priestess of Kaon. Boltcutters, please.'
She gives in, wiggling into a semi-comfortable position in what little space she can find. 'How did you know? There's no cosmetic damage at all.'
He taps his left audial. 'Your ankle mechanism is grinding, and there's a problem with your hydraulics.'
'You can hear that?' She wonders just how the frag he's coping with all the sound coming from the nearby explosions. It's annoying her, and her auditory senses don't go much beyond the average.
'Yes.' He pauses, making a face as he realises the extent of the damage. 'Also, you were limping, and you screamed something about how next time you see Ramjet, you're going to, ahem, "twist him up until he's sucking his own fragging exhaust".'
'... Oh.'
Silence falls, punctuated only by the thunder of nearby fighting. There's absolutely no point in going outside; the Decepticons are advancing en masse. The two of them have already performed their assigned duty -- putting out a large fire before it spread to a hidden emergency medical bay -- and now they just have to wait here and conserve energy until the Decepticons pass, so they can clean up the mess. Again.
Unless they're discovered, of course.
Firestar refuses to think about that particular scenario any longer than absolutely necessary. After all, she's been successfully hiding out from the Decepticons for four million years; she can manage a little longer.
She allows her processor to drift, keeping one level of consciousness tuned into her surroundings while thinking things through on another level.
'I miss him, too.'
The frank admission startles her out of her reverie. She twists around to get a better look at Red Alert, but he keeps his optics fixed firmly on his work.
'Your list of super senses includes mind-reading, huh?'
'Neither of us has seen him in almost a deca-cycle. If you didn't miss him, I'd be worried.' He smiles wistfully. 'You know he'd be out there right now, throwing himself into the action despite all common sense.'
'Which is why Optimus kept him on Earth. He may be the best at his job, but stealth isn't really one of his strong points.' She knows this, and yet she can't control the twinge of irrational irritation. Optimus finally sends back some of his crew to Cybertron after four million years... and of all the mechs she could get partnered up with, it's the one Inferno's been interfacing with ever since they got split up. Primus has a twisted sense of humour.
They're old friends, sure, and they've come to know each other even better in the past deca-cycle, but Inferno has always been the centre of their universe, the two of them forever revolving around him. The days back when the three of them performed emergency duties together on Cybertron were fun, but there had always been something extra moving underneath, something beyond what she and Inferno shared alone. Inferno's optics were appreciative, his words suggestive... and Red, bless his jittery energon pump, would become flustered at every overture, finding any excuse to turn tailpipe and run.
He seems to have settled somewhat since then. Oh, sure, he's still a glitched-out, paranoid little freak at times, but the time spent on Earth seems to have been good for him.
Inferno has been good for him.
She's surprised. She should be jealous; and she is, but not nearly as much as she thought she'd be. She's had a long time to get used to the idea of not having Inferno; all things considered, sharing him with a good friend is far from the worst that could happen.
Besides, she's pretty slagging sure that it would've turned out this way, anyway. Inferno never could take his optics off Red... except when he couldn't take them off her.
And okay, sometimes she couldn't take her eyes off Red, either, although she blames this entirely on Inferno's bad influence.
Red Alert closes up the panelling on her foot. 'All done. You still shouldn't put any more weight on it than absolutely necessary, but at least the sharp edge has been removed, and the hydraulics are no longer leaking.'
'Thanks.' She lifts her leg off his lap, but doesn't move from next to him. Not that she has much choice in the matter; their hiding space doesn't allow for choosiness when it comes to these things.
And in a moment of reckless stupidity, curiosity gets the better of her. This has been going on for so long, now, and she just needs to know. She reaches out and tilts his ash-streaked face towards her, slowly, carefully, so as not to spook him.
'Um... Firestar?'
'I've been thinking.'
'Have you, now?' He's cautious, but not panicking outright.
'Yeah. I've been thinking that the three of us have been swerving around this issue for way too long.'
'This issue?'
'The three of us. Together.'
'Um. I. Um.' He closes his optics for a moment, obviously trying to get his processor under control. 'Together?'
'You know that Inferno isn't just going to forget about me, now that there's more contact between Earth and Cybertron. And I know he's not going to just forget about you.' She leans in closer, taking her time, giving him the opportunity to back out. 'Face it, Red: you always knew it was going to end up like this.'
'I... I did. I think.' He still hasn't pulled back – remarkable, considering how he used to react to advances from the two of them – but his expression holds a kind of vague terror.
She strokes a thumb over his lower lip, and he trembles, squeezing his optics shut. 'No. I -- can't.'
Disappointed, she lets her hand fall away.
He opens his optics, fixing his gaze on hers. 'Not without his permission.'
Firestar knows full well that they have Inferno's permission – and then some – and she knows that he knows it, too. Still, she's happy to let him pretend. And it'd probably be best to wait until Inferno is here, anyway.
She can't entirely hide the shiver that runs through her energon pump at the thought of a proper reunion. Primus, it's been so long....
She edges sideways to give him space, and injects her voice with all the airiness she can muster, seriousness dropped for the moment.
'Oh, I'm sure he'd give us permission. In fact, I know he already has.'
His mouth twists into a slight smirk, apprehension warring with amusement. 'Oh, really? What did he say?'
'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'
'Try me.'
Her optics flare in good-natured exasperation. 'He said it'd be -- ' she puts on an exaggerated accent ' -- hot'. She grins. '"Like burning", I do believe he specified.'
He facepalms, groaning and shaking his head. 'Actually, I can completely believe he said that.'
'Bit of a one-track mind, our mech has.'
'Just a bit.'
The smile fades a little, giving way to concern. 'And what about your mind?'
He looks almost lost, desire obviously warring against his principles. Just her luck to end up with two mechs who are so into honour and rules and all that stuff. It's kind of endearing, though, the way his optic ridge furrows in confusion.
'I... don't know.' Backpedalling, he quickly adds, 'I mean, it could work. I want it to work. But this is a war. We've already been separated from Inferno for almost a deca-cycle, with the four million deca-cycles you spent apart on top of that. Things are coming to a head. I don't know if this is the best time to escalate things.'
She can hear what's left unspoken: I don't want to lose anyone else.
And she understands. Primus, all those countless vorns spent not knowing whether Inferno was alive... of course she understands.
And she also understands that this is precisely why they should do this thing. Because they could all get deactivated tomorrow. Because if they can grab some happiness in amongst all the death and destruction, then why not?
And really, consolidating them all into one relationship is much more efficient.
But Red still looks hesitant, and she decides to let the subject drop for now. Inferno will be able to convince him. He always does.
Instead, she settles in close, arm draped across his shoulders, careful to avoid his injured side. Protective, comforting, but nothing more. He stiffens briefly, but she makes no further move, and he slowly relaxes against her.
The walls shudder with the force of the explosions above, the very air itself seeming to reverberate. The Decepticons are directly overhead; going outside would be suicide.
'It's hard to believe how much Cybertron has changed in all these years.'
She jumps a little, not expecting his words, barely audible over the noise. He doesn't seem to notice, continuing to talk quietly, staring off at some distant thing only he can see.
'How much you've all changed. Intellectually, I know how long I spent in stasis, but it never felt real until I came back.'
She waits through the long pause, not wanting to interrupt.
'Almost everyone I know is long gone.' His head hangs low, voice crackling with static. 'Knew.'
And there's nothing she can say to that -- she knows full well how cold such comforts are -- so she just pulls him closer, and holds on tight.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 10:16 pm (UTC)Also: thanks. ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 10:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 10:32 pm (UTC)This story wanted to be a threesome so badly, but I'd already strayed too far from the prompts as it was. Inferno is SO SAD about this. XD
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 11:02 pm (UTC)*does not at all go to the happy threesome place*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 02:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 04:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 04:13 pm (UTC)And yeah, poor old Red tends to get the short end of the straw. It's difficult, because we hardly ever get to see him when he's not brain-damaged, and his tech specs do basically have him down as, well, a paranoid freak. I like to think he walks the fine line between freakitude and extreme competence, however. And he only falls off it occasionally! :D
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 04:18 pm (UTC)... *facepalm*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 06:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 07:05 pm (UTC)(And yes, it's me all right. If this causes any confusion, I'm using OpenID. Or at least trying to, anyway. :-) )
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 07:12 pm (UTC)Normally I'd say yes, but I have this weird perfectionistic streak that kicks in at the most inconvenient of times. Important RL essay? Eh, whatever, long as I pass. Mixing metaphors in an internet comment? OMG MUST SELF-FLAGELLATE. D: D: D:
I wish my brain could prioritise the way I want it to. :(
If this causes any confusion, I'm using OpenID. Or at least trying to, anyway. :-)
It worked! *has no idea when it comes to all this newfangled technology*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 07:19 pm (UTC)Am the same way here. But whoever said that's a bad thing? MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! XD
It worked! *has no idea when it comes to all this newfangled technology*
Technophile that I am, yeah, I'm the same way. (What the hell's a MySpace, anyway?) ;-)
no subject
Date: 2007-09-12 04:31 pm (UTC)Sweet!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-14 04:01 pm (UTC)And yeah, I really can't see either of them getting together without Inferno as part of the deal.