The Convention of Conventions

Author’s Note: I actually really don’t have a dog, it’s only wishful thinking. All authors are used with permission. And Sapph and I don’t live that close together, or we’d be constantly over each other’s houses! Ivana J. Spyder’s Make-A-Wish site (which appears later on in the story) is owned by her, and used only by permission. People in this fic are also used by permission, and so I don’t own them. Not even Dinobot, and I want the rights to own him, slaggit! Gah . . . caffeine . . . grant me forgetfulness of that horrid fact . . .

Part One

It was a nice day, for winter. Sinead was walking home from her bus-stop, watching the gently falling snowflakes. Beside her was her Irish Wolfhound, coming up to her waist, and walking with a trotting kind of gait. She had brought her to school, and the obedience class had gone well, since the one-year-old puppy had behaved wonderfully. Her Breeds And Handling teacher had also been commenting on the lineage of the hound, expressing that she must have been from the same breeder that her own Irish Wolfhound had come from, since their faces were both quite expressive.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind her, then, “SINEAD!!!!!”

She turned calmly around, to face one of her friends from the neighborhood, with a smile. “Hey Sapphire.”

“Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat?!?!?!?!?!”

Sinead smiled, her calm-ish demeanor in these situations getting the better of her. “Hmm . . . I don’t know. Tell me.”

“WE’RE GOING TO BOTCON!!!!!!”

“WHAT?!?!?!?!”

“Yeah! An’ Moonraker’s coming, too!”

Sinead grinned. “That’s great! When is it?”

“I dunno . . . but I know we’re goin’!”

They talked all the way to Moonraker’s house, and then to Sinead’s, where they all sat at the table, drinking their afternoon tea.

*snort* . . . Yeah, right. Do you actually think that we’d sit at the table with our tea? *chuckle* we went into the living room, and captured the computer! Yeah, yeah, this is supposed to be a third-person p.o.v., but I think that you’d find it better, if I told you what I did. And my name’s Sinead. *laughs* So why not listen . . . or read? *sigh* . . . whatever. -_-*

It was the day after Sapphire had told me that we were going to BotCon. At the current time, she wasn’t at my house, as she was finishing her Christmas shopping. Instead, the cheese-crazy Moonraker was over.

“CanIcanIcanI? Pppplllllleeeeezzzzzeeeee?!?!?!?!?!”

I sighed. One of these days, I’d find a way to get Dinobot, and after three seconds of her incessant begging, I’m pretty sure that he’d threaten her with her life. But only threaten. I’m sure that he wouldn’t do anything . . . *evil grin, evil chuckle* . . . with me around.

“Fine, fine Moonraker. The cheese is in the fridge, near the back. You’ll have to stand on tip-toe,” I replied. “Don’t use too much, okay?”

She threw her arms around me, and I froze, not moving. “Moon? Get off of me.”

She ran into the kitchen, as the phone rang. Why was I the one with all the crazy friends? Probably because I’m insane, myself, most days. Was it me? Was my lack of sanity rubbing off on the other authors?

I ran to get at the phone before she could. At the last moment, you know, in one of those slow-motion moments, I tripped over a loose edge of the carpet, and landed on the tiles, hearing, “Hello-o!”

I shook my head, trying to clear the pain, after hitting it off of the table. “Moon? Who is it?”

She looked down at me. “Ohmygosh! Are you okay?!”

I nodded. “Yeah. But who’s on the phone?”

“Oh. It’s some guy who want’s to talk with you. Here!”

She handed the phone to me, and I took it, asking, “Hullo?”

“Are you . . . uh . . . Sinead?”

“Yeah. And who are you?” I asked skeptically. Moonraker let Sapphire into the kitchen. Good. Someone slightly more sane than her. Now I don’t have to deal with her one-on-one. The last time that happened, we both ended up with quite a few bruises, and I had to apologize to “Louis,” her pet cheese. That was the scariest thing I’ve even been through, since I was tortured through seven hours of non-stop Gundam Wing. I like the series and all, but seven hours? That’s long enough, in my tastes.

“Uhm . . . does it matter?”

I snorted, replying in my most sarcastic voice I could render up with a booming headache. “No, it doesn’t. I’m only asking because I’m a nitpicker. Of course it matters!”

“Oh. Um . . . sorry. The name’s Ian.”

“Pleasant. So you’re one of those people who have no last name? Well, then, it’s been nice talking to you, but I have to–”

“Corlett.”

I dropped the phone, then fumbled for it again, before Sapphire hit the intercom button on the phone. I glared at the small speaker, demanding, “Say. That. Again.”

“My name’s Ian Corlett. So?”

Moonraker sat suddenly, only there wasn’t a chair behind her. “If he’s lying, I’ll hunt him down, whoever he is, and rip his guts out through his nose!!!!!”

There was an uncomfortable silence on his behalf, then, “Do you want me to prove it, or sumthin’?”

“Yes! Prove it,” Sapphire covered, before Moonraker could answer first. “Do Cheetor’s voice.”

“Who are you?” Ian Corlett, the voice of Cheetor, asked. “You have me on speaker-phone, Sinead, don’t you?”

“Sapphire. And the person who threatened you is Moonraker. And why else do you think you hear three different voices?!?!”

“Oh. Okay.” I heard him clear his throat, then say in Cheetor’s voice, “Then I guess that you’ll have to tolerate being on speaker-phone over here, too.”

“WHAT?!” the three of us screeched.

I heard laughter, then, “Good job!”

“That’s Duo’s voice!” I screeched, still in Gundam Wing mode. I haven’t had the chance to re-brainwash myself with my Beast Wars DVD set over the past week. Gah . . . “I-I mean . . . uh . . . Scott McNeill?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

Sapphire squealed, doing a little dance around the kitchen. I laughed, and said, “I guess she’s a little sugar-high. Sapphire, what did you eat at the mall? Watch out for the–”

WHAP!

“–cabinet door. Oohh . . . I’ll have to fix that, won’t I? Are you okay?”

“Is she?” came Scott McNeill’s voice over the phone.

“Yeah,” I replied. “She’s got quite a thick skull . . . like one of her favorite Beast Warriors.”

“Really, now?” came another voice.

“Who’re you?” Moonraker asked.

“Oh. Gary Chalk. Sorry.”

“Cool!”

I laughed, and replied, “Yeah. Rattrap’s her favorite.”

“And Dinobot!” she called from across the room, reaching into the freezer, and pulling out an ice-pack that I keep there, for these type of pseudo-emergencies.

“I get first dibs on him, and you know that!” I said back. “And don’t you start–”

“Will you stop arguing already?!”

“Holy crap! That’s the Scale-Belly!” Sapphire yelped, laughing.

I shook my head. “That’s great!”

We talked for about another hour, before Sapphire and Moonraker had to go home. I then went online again, and talked with another friend, and told her of what was going on, before I had to get to sleep.

We were leaving for Vancouver, British Columbia, the very next day . . .

The place was crowded, as if there was no tomorrow. Sapphire and Moonraker each held onto one of my sleeves, as I stood on tip-toe, to try to catch a glimpse of the person we were meeting. I smiled, and disengaged Sapphire’s hand, simply because I trust her, then waved with my now-free hand. The man waved back, and we were escorted by him and his companion to a rather long table, where people were signing autographs. One looked up, and asked, “Uhm . . . you do know that there’s a line, right?”

He spoke in a Western accent, and Moonraker began to hop up and down, saying in a fast-paced rhythm that it was Colin Murdoch, and that he did the voice of Quickstrike. Sapphire and I looked to each other, turned to Moonraker, and she held up some of that nasty Cheese-In-A-Can stuff. *shudder* “Moon, be quiet. Understand?”

She was instantly silent. Colin Murdoch looked to me, and said, “You wouldn’t mind going to the back of the line.”

He caught sight of the men escorting us, and indicated us with his pen, before signing another autograph. Scott McNeill chuckled, replying, “Colin, meet Sinead, one of the winners of that contest that she was entered in.”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “You’re that girl? I envy and pity you at the same time!”

I shrugged, then asked, “Why?”

“Do you have any idea what the grand prize was?”

“No-o.”

He sighed, and there was an announcement, stating that the actors would no longer be signing autographs. Another man, Alec Willows, I guess, capped his felt-tip pen with a flourish, and grinned up at me. “Yep. You’re screwed.”

I glared at him. “That’s apparently your opinion, eh?”

“Nope. That’s the gospel truth.”

Sapphire was about to start on her long telling-off session (which usually happened when she was tired and jetlagged) when I clamped my hand over her mouth, and said, “What some have believed to be truth, was actually lies.”

“A philosophical one!” A female’s voice exclaimed. I turned, to see a middle-aged woman standing there confidently. “Hello. My name’s Susan Blu.”

I smiled, and shook her hand. “This is great. I’ve always wanted to come to BotCon.”

She smiled in return, and replied, “Well, this is it! Not much to see, since we’re going to shut it down in about five minutes. But, on the other hand, you get free stuff, as a reward for putting up with your Grand Prize.”

I froze, and looked up to her. “Then I guess I should start to worry?”

She smiled pityingly down at me. “I really do apologize.”

Sapphire bounced up and down, having one of those mood swings. “Yay!”

I groaned, and asked, “When are we . . . uh . . . receiving it?”

“After you meet the other three winners.”

We walked into one of the back rooms of the expo center, and saw two other girls standing there. Well, one actually looked like she was more near her early-twenties, or something like that. Susan smiled to them, and they walked over. “This is Nurannoniel, and Ivyana J. Spyder.”

We shook hands, and I said, “I’m Sinead. Do either of you know what the grand prize is?”

Nurannoniel shook her head. “Nope. Are you the same Sinead from Beast Wars International?”

I nodded. “Yeah. The crazy one, who flips out every so often.”

“And these other two are . . . ?”

“Moonraker and Sapphire. The Sapphire.” I grinned, and said through a chuckle, “Bow and scrape in

Moonraker shook the can of cheese, and sighed. She turned her puppy-look towards me. I glared back. “No. More. Cheese. And I mean it.”

She sighed, and turned the look to Sapphire, who shook her head. “You know that was the last can. And this time, I agree with Sinead: That’s enough cheese for now.”

Ivyana chuckled, and said, “So. The crazy kids, huh?”

Moonraker shrugged, and shook it, pressing on the top, trying to get the last pieces out. We watched her, for lack of something better to do. Susan and the rest of the voice actors had left us. Suddenly, though, the cheese-obsessed girl looked up, over Nurannoniel’s shoulder, and whimpered. I looked at her with wide eyes. If anything, Moonraker does not whimper. I looked slowly behind Nurannoniel as well, and tried my best to stay standing. The other three turned as well. Ivyana laughed, Nurannoniel calmly sat, and Sapphire screamed, then ran behind me.

Scott grinned. “Uhm . . . heh-heh . . . and here’s the . . . uh . . . grand prize?”

There, standing beside him, was Dinobot, Rattrap, Cheetor, Tarantulus, Optimus and Inferno.

Click here for part 2