A Statistical C E R T A I N T Y {Writing Storage}

[{Aquarius;}]

Hey there! I see you've stumbled upon my writing storage. This is where I post random muse flashes, one-shots, or roleplay ideas. I can't say it'll be too interesting, but you're welcome to keep reading! Most of the one-shots will probably be fan-fiction, just because I am a complete geek, so...yeah. But there are some original ones. You can also comment and critique my writing (please make it constructive and do it through PMs). Enjoy!

Contents:
> Looking back
> My family's better than yours (undertale au)
> Thoughts of a vehicon (transformers prime drabble)
> Across the gap (roleplay idea)

[{Aquarius;}]

The sky overhead was darkened with thick clouds. The air was charged, full of quiet tension. In the distance thunder rolled. A rain drop fell. Then another. And another. Soon it fell in sheets, cascading down onto a city. People down below opened their umbrellas while others ducked into buildings to take refuge from the cold rain. A young couple, who saw the rain as only a simple thing, laughed and hugged each other while the husband held an umbrella over his wife.

Standing atop an office building was a man, impervious to the weather. He stood on the edge of the roof, quite unafraid, staring down at the river of people. His form was protected by a long, black cloak that blew gently in the wind. The hood was drawn over his head, not quite covering his eyes. A peculiar mask covered his face. Or maybe it was a helmet. It was made of silver metal and fashioned in a way that vaguely resembled a gas mask. An orange visor allowed him to see.

On the man's back was a sniper rifle, and on his belt was a pistol. But they weren't like any other firearm at the time. They were almost futuristic-looking. The man looked around him at the city one more time before turning around and walking to the other edge of the building. His combat boots sloshed and splashed through the water, most likely soaking his feet. But he didn't seem bothered. On the contrary, his posture and stance seemed almost...regretful. Sorrowful.

He lifted his hand and tapped a button on the controller that was fastened to his other arm. Immediately, a ship came into view, seeming to appear out of thin air. The man opened the door to his spaceship and climbed inside, seating himself into the cockpit. He flipped a few switches and the engine rumbled to life. Casting a final glance toward the street below, the man sighed a weary sigh. His eyes, to his mild shock, misted over in sadness. "They don't know," he murmured quietly, his voice sounding loud in the silent interior of his ship. "They don't know what the future holds, do they?" And with that, he fired up his time-warp and shot off into a whirling white vortex.

He was going home to a world torn by nuclear war and ravaged by famine and violence. If they only knew...if they could only see. Humanity was doomed to a bitter future: scrambling and fighting itself for small scraps of resources. If they didn't stop the fighting now, their children will suffer. And generations to come will be twisted by grief and loss, reduced to animalistic behaviour as a means of survival.

[{Aquarius;}]

{This one is probably very terrible, but I love this au, so...//shrugs//}

"Look at them. They're so weird."
"They don't even talk. Big baby."
"I bet they don't even have parents. I never see anyone."

Frisk frowned as they drew their picture, hearing the other kids talking behind their back. They slowly put down the blue crayon they were using to color with. Suddenly, they didn't feel like drawing anymore.

"Alright, kids! Ten minutes until school's out!" the teacher called, gathering her things together. The children did the same, pushing and shoving each other playfully. Frisk looked down at their drawing: a picture of their monster friends. Mettaton and his cousin Napstablook, Undyne and Alphys, the skeleton brothers, Asgore and Toriel. No one believed Frisk that they were real.

Frisk picked a purple color and began to color in Mettaton. They would wait until the other kids left before walking home like they usually did. After five minutes, the teacher instructed the kids to line up on the back wall to wait for their parents. Frisk rolled up their drawing and followed. They stood beside a boy and his friend. The two shuffled away from them, snickering to themselves. Frisk felt tears prick their eyes but tried hard not to cry.

Moms and Dads started to come into the classroom to pick up their children. Frisk knew that they were going to have to wait until all the others were gone. Three children had left when Frisk felt a shove from the boy. "Oops." he sneered. "Guess you should pay more attention."

Frisk sniffled. The boy, who had heard his name called, looked up with an innocent smile on his face. He left with his parents, giving Frisk a stuck-out tongue before walking out the door. A tear rolled down Frisk's cheek despite their efforts to keep a cool head. A familiar voice caused them to look up--and a huge grin broke out on their face when they saw who it was.

"Hey, kiddo." Sans greeted them as he walked through the door. The children looked at him with wide eyes, and were even more surprised when Frisk ran up and wrapped their arms around him in a hug. The teacher stared, though Sans ignored her. He pulled away and placed his hands on Frisk's shoulders, chuckling. "Ready to go? I hear Toriel has some butterscotch pie fresh out of the oven."

Frisk nodded excitedly, wiping away the stray tear on their cheek impatiently. Seeing them do this, Sans' right eye flashed blue for a split second. But he composed himself and decided to ask them later. "Alrighty, then. Let's go." he held Frisk's hand and walked out of the door, feeling the shocked stares behind him.

Once they were out into the street, Sans stopped. "Spill it, kid." he said firmly, taking his hand out of Frisk's and crossing his arms. Frisk looked up at him, confused. "Why were you crying?" They froze. Sans sighed. "You can tell me." he said more gently. Frisk didn't say anything for a minute. Then they mumbled something incoherent. Sans frowned. "What was that?"

"No parents." Frisk muttered quietly. "Other kids say I'm weird because they haven't seen my parents. Say I'm weird because I don't talk much." They sniffled. Sans felt a bit guilty for pressing the issue. But he was even angrier that Frisk was being bullied. He'd have to ask Toriel what to do about that.

Deciding to change the subject, Sans pointed to the rolled up paper in Frisk's hand. "What's that? A picture?"
Suddenly remembering, Frisk brightened and nodded. "Made it for family." they unrolled the paper and held it up so Sans could see. It was colored drawing of all his friends holding hands. At the very in of the line, holding Toriel's hand, was Frisk. A big heart was drawn around the whole group.

"Wow." he whistled. "That's some artwork, bud. I bet Toriel'll hang it up on the wall." the though made Frisk smile. "Well, we'd better get going. We don't want that pie to get cold, do we?" Frisk shook their head emphatically. Sans smiled and grabbed their hand, resuming the journey to home.


Later that evening, after Frisk was put to bed, Sans told everyone what the situation was. Indignant gasps sparked from everyone. Undyne pounded the coffee table and demanded she go beat the bullies up.
"No, Undyne, you can't." Toriel said calmly, though she was just as angry. "We can't reply to this with violence."
"Th-then what can we d-do?" Alphys asked. Everyone went quiet, thinking of solutions. Then Sans snapped his fingers.
"I've got a plan." he declared with a mischievous grin. Toriel eyed him suspiciously. Seeing her expression, Sans shook his head. "It's not anything bad, so don't worry. Here's how it works..." he told everyone his idea.


For everyday after that, Frisk was picked up by different monsters each time. First it was Toriel, then Mettaton and Napstablook, then Asgore, then Undyne and Alphys, then Sans and Papyrus. They made it a point to show that Frisk had people who cared about her. They also made sure to let the kids know that they knew Frisk was being made fun of. Mettaton made a statement that he'd stuff any bullies he found into a trash can and hurdle them off a cliff. Sans simply glared at them with his glowing eye and warned that if they didn't stop making fun of Frisk, they would have a bad time. Undyne threatened to beat them to a pulp if they continued. All in all, Frisk's school life was beginning to get better. And their smile when picked up by their family of monsters made it all worth it.

[{Aquarius;}]

Commander Starscream's yelling again. Some trooper ticked him off and now every single Eradicon he sees gets thrown against the wall. Luckily, I'm not anywhere near him; I'm safe within the communications room.

I feel sorry for the poor troops who have to face Scream's wrath. To him, we're all the same. It's kind of sad, really. Eradicon's and Vehicons are given no sense of identity; no individuality. We are merely cannon fodder, thrown into battle as if we have no lives. We're not even given proper designations. Just random numbers and letters. To higher-ups, I am Trooper HA-3L9.

Sometimes troopers will give each other nicknames, like ST-3V3, who we call Steve. I think some Eradicons call me Hal, but I'm not sure. That could be another Eradicon's nickname. We look the same, so what's the use? Maybe it's just the only aspect of our identities we have any control over.

I know it would be treason to admit this to anyone, but I envy the Autobots. I've been in several battles against them, and not once--Not. Once.--have I heard Optimus address his followers as 'you there'. Not once have I seen him physically punish them. They're all so different, yet they work together like a well-oiled machine. They treat each other like friends. Like...like family.

It's so different from what I experience. I've been beaten more times by a fellow Decepticon than I have by an Autobot. We're supposed to be fighting them, not each other! Why can't we realize that? And the humans that hang around the Bots. They're not scorned, but welcomed with open arms. What must it be like? To have an unbreakable bond, to have a real name that is acknowledged and used regularly?

I suppose I'll never know. Because I'm stuck here. I'm stuck on this stupid warship. I'm stuck fighting a long-lost war against Cybertronians who are more morally right than I could ever be. I'm the bad guy! I know I am! But I can't do a single thing about it. I can't.

I think I just might go crazy enough that I run to Optimus in the middle of a battle and give him a pat on the back for being such a great leader before I'm blasted to smithereens by him. Why not? It's not like I'm worth anything anyway.

No.

I'm not.

[{Aquarius;}]

{//screams because of bad title//}


(name) is just your average highschool girl struggling to get good grades. She doesn't get out much, preferring to stay indoors where it's safe. She's cautious about everything; "Safety first" just might be her motto. One night, while researching the process of pasteurization, her computer screen goes completely black. She thinks it might just be a crash, until green letters start appearing as if they are being typed.

'Hello.'

(name) jumps out of her desk chair in surprise. Has she been hacked?! The letters are erased from the screen, replaced by more.

'Relax. Please sit back down.'

Wait, so now the person is watching her too? (name) shakes her head, too freaked out to move. The words erase and there is nothing on her screen for a few seconds. Then her computer starts to hum, a static noise filling the air. It gets louder and louder, and (name) closes her eyes, fearing her computer is going to explode. Then the noise gradually quiets down. (name) risks a peek and opens her eyes. She screams.

Standing in front of her is a young man, his hand outstretched. He takes a step forward and she takes one back, thoroughly frightened. The boy sighs and raises his other hand in a gesture of peace. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

It takes some convincing, but (name) finally nods and allows the boy to speak. "My name is Jargon, and you're in danger." Jargon explains that a deadly virus, one that has gained the ability to travel between the digital world and the real one, is coming for (name). He doesn't know why, but he wants to stop the virus from doing it. (name) reluctantly agrees, and the two embark on an adventure. But there is one uncertainty: what happens when the two start to feel for each other? And why exactly is the virus coming after (name)?