4. G1 (are we seeing a pattern here? *fail*) - Frenzy
Earth was an amazing place.
Whistles and chirps and other lilting notes filled the air with a symphony unlike anything ever heard on Cybertron. It was halting and random with little rhythm and seemed to come from all directions at once with varying pitch and intensity, but somehow, it still sounded...musical.
Frenzy found himself trying to imitate the noises, listening intently to the different trills and whistles and working his vocal processor to copy them. There were so many different kinds of noises - trills, chirps, whistles, and cries - at so many different pitches, registers, and rhythms and coming from so many different directions, it quickly became too difficult to focus on all of them, so Frenzy picked out one and concentrated on it, noting the melody. It took a few tries, but he managed to discern the rhythm and soon imitated the sound almost perfectly with his vocal processor.
It had been far, far too long since he last heard music, much less made it, and while the noises were not true music in the sense he was accustomed to, it was close enough to relax his weary processors and make him forget entirely that he was supposed to be surveying and patrolling the ground while Laserbeak and Buzzsaw scouted the air.
5. Pre-war G1 - Would be Hound-focused if I can get back on it
The walls shook slightly with the steady theme of music. It rumbled throbbed through the walls, across the floor, and into each mech who sat or stood throughout the building. The vibration caused ripples in the many cubes of energon scattered among the crowd whether it was held, resting on a table, counter, or arm of a chair, or if it was simply discarded on the floor. Some mostly empty, discarded cubes had been turned over either by the vibration of music or by the careless feet of oblivious mechs, and they left behind small, rippling puddles on the floor to be trodden and splashed by each mech who walked through them.
There were few tables or seating areas, and those which did line the walls were mostly unused. The main reason anyone came to here was for the music. The musicians were rarely repeated for more than a few orns at a time, and the music they provided was always upbeat to send a charge through every mech's wiring. Many patrons found themselves moving of their own volition, hips swaying to the music, feet following the beat. It was not unusual for a solitary mech to find himself with an unanticipated partner, nor was it unusual for a mech to find himself pulled from his seat at a table by a stranger who did not want to dance alone.
Near the back, just to the right of the stage, the bar stayed busy with constant orders for different grades of energon from the lowest grade still approved for consumption - nearly black in color but known for its thick texture and spicy taste - to the m ost expensive, highest quality - borderline white and refreshingly cool. Few patrons stayed near the bar once they had their refreshments, returning only once they had either consumed their purchase or lost it somewhere in the constantly shifting throng of mechs.
no subject
Earth was an amazing place.
Whistles and chirps and other lilting notes filled the air with a symphony unlike anything ever heard on Cybertron. It was halting and random with little rhythm and seemed to come from all directions at once with varying pitch and intensity, but somehow, it still sounded...musical.
Frenzy found himself trying to imitate the noises, listening intently to the different trills and whistles and working his vocal processor to copy them. There were so many different kinds of noises - trills, chirps, whistles, and cries - at so many different pitches, registers, and rhythms and coming from so many different directions, it quickly became too difficult to focus on all of them, so Frenzy picked out one and concentrated on it, noting the melody. It took a few tries, but he managed to discern the rhythm and soon imitated the sound almost perfectly with his vocal processor.
It had been far, far too long since he last heard music, much less made it, and while the noises were not true music in the sense he was accustomed to, it was close enough to relax his weary processors and make him forget entirely that he was supposed to be surveying and patrolling the ground while Laserbeak and Buzzsaw scouted the air.
5. Pre-war G1 - Would be Hound-focused if I can get back on it
The walls shook slightly with the steady theme of music. It rumbled throbbed through the walls, across the floor, and into each mech who sat or stood throughout the building. The vibration caused ripples in the many cubes of energon scattered among the crowd whether it was held, resting on a table, counter, or arm of a chair, or if it was simply discarded on the floor. Some mostly empty, discarded cubes had been turned over either by the vibration of music or by the careless feet of oblivious mechs, and they left behind small, rippling puddles on the floor to be trodden and splashed by each mech who walked through them.
There were few tables or seating areas, and those which did line the walls were mostly unused. The main reason anyone came to here was for the music. The musicians were rarely repeated for more than a few orns at a time, and the music they provided was always upbeat to send a charge through every mech's wiring. Many patrons found themselves moving of their own volition, hips swaying to the music, feet following the beat. It was not unusual for a solitary mech to find himself with an unanticipated partner, nor was it unusual for a mech to find himself pulled from his seat at a table by a stranger who did not want to dance alone.
Near the back, just to the right of the stage, the bar stayed busy with constant orders for different grades of energon from the lowest grade still approved for consumption - nearly black in color but known for its thick texture and spicy taste - to the m ost expensive, highest quality - borderline white and refreshingly cool. Few patrons stayed near the bar once they had their refreshments, returning only once they had either consumed their purchase or lost it somewhere in the constantly shifting throng of mechs.
--
*zips back to her corner*