Current mood:	silly
Current music:	"Tell me what's going on with these people or I'll... spank you or something..."
Entry tags:	transformers

[Transformers G1] Obvious
Title: Obvious
Author: Icka! M. Chif
Word Count: 425
Rating: General
Author Notes: Random plunnie while musing on other things. May be slight OOC, all I've seen of G1 is two episodes. Jazz-centric
Summary: he couldn’t have more blatantly screamed out what he was any louder than if broadcast it with a megaphone.

---

Jazz had been travelling through Hiroshima, Japan when it was attacked by Decepticons. Apparently one of the lesser bright higher ups had come up with the brilliant idea that if there were no automobiles, it’d be easier to spot the Autobots. Jazz had quickly stepped in, saving the Mazda company headquarters and sending the Decepticons fleeing in short order.

He’d been expecting some terror on the part of the local humans, having a random car suddenly transform usually sent the locals fleeing, and had been prepared to smooth things out while helping with some of the cleanup from the fight. But he hadn’t been prepared for the lingering odd silences that people had, or the way that some hung back. Jazz had seen humans afraid of Autobots before, but somehow their fear seemed to hold an unusual edge.

’Shitashimi Shinigami’, he heard a few whisper as he moved larger debris that would usually require the use of a crane. He ran it through his translators. ‘Friendly Death’.

It took him a few minutes on the internet to figure out what he was overlooking. He liked Earth Cultures as a whole, but sometimes the smaller details slipped past his notice. In this case, it was several small things that added up to one large thing.

In Japanese, the clearly visible ‘4’ on his hood and chest was pronounced ‘Shi’, the same word as ‘Death’. Combined with his predominately white colouring, a colour tied with ghosts and the afterlife. Despite his friendly attitude and cool attitude, he couldn’t have more blatantly screamed out what he was any louder than if broadcast it with a megaphone.

Jazz chuckled quietly to himself as he finished assisting and left, continuing his trip to Tokyo to finish his intended mission.

He was the head of Special Operations, and as such, did most of his fighting off the battlefield. Oh, he wasn’t bad on the battlefield either, but his kill count was much higher from the shadows. His enemies had a reason to worry.

Jazz spared an astrosecond or two, wondering if Teletraan had known the symbolism that she had so brightly painted on him when she’d chosen his alternate form when they had first awakened on this planet. Probably not, although sometimes he swore that Teletraan had a sense of humour, if a subtle one.

Perhaps he should mention it to Prowl, see if he could get the usually stoic tactician to smile.

Then again, perhaps not.

Some secrets were better off kept in plain sight, where they were obvious.

-fin-