#I know energon is generally considered Primus's blood

[transingthoseformers]

Can you imagine if the deeper you went underground in Cybertron, the louder / more clearly you could hear Primus??

[robots-and-writing]

A Cold Night In With The DJD

(TW: Cards Against Humanity, general dirty talking)

Tarn shivered in his office, a fuzzy blanket draped over his shoulders. It didn't do much, with the heating on the Messatine out for the day until repairs could be done. For now he would focus on paperwork to take his mind off the cold. He had personal reviews to read, repair papers to sign, the work had started piling up on his desk.

"Tarn?" Helex ducked into the office, the heat from his smelter warming up the room.

"What can I do for you, Helex?" Tarn let the blanket fall to the floor. Helex's warmth was enough to keep him comfortable.

"The others are in the rec room trying to stay warm, do you want to join us?" Tarn had been previously invited to join his team to stay warm and play a few card games. "I know it's not your favourite game, but we're about to start a round of Cards Against Cybertron." Hm. Helex was right. Tarn didn't like that game. But, he mused to himself, it will be valuable team building experience.

"I'll go." Helex's face showed a brief flash of surprise before he spoke.

"Sweet! I'll head back to the rec room, the others are waitin' for me." He gave a wave with one small hand and left. Tarn grabbed his data pad and soon followed suit. It wasn't too long before they had arrived at the rec room door, the lively conversation taking place inside audible through the door. The door opened to sighs of relief as the warmth of Helex's smelter returned, and the room started heating back up again. The other DJD members seemed surprised that Tarn even bothered to come, and even more surprised that he would participate in the game.

Kaon dealt out ten white cards for every player and put the black cards in the centre of the circle. "I'll be the first card czar." Drawing a card from the pile, he read out the prompt.

"I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure what you're suffering from is called… blank." 

Tarn looked at the cards he had in his hand. They were:

Unfathomable stupidity.

Having sex for the first time.

An older bot who knows their way around a spike.

The blood of primus.

Shaking a sparkling until it stops crying.

Poor life choices.

Licking things to claim them as your own.

Fellowship in primus.

Soundwave talking dirty.

A live studio audience.

Hmm.Tarn decided to play it safe, and tossed Poor life choices into the pile of white cards. He was still deciding if he was going to seriously play the game. Tarn could go with the typical responses. That meant likely not winning a single card. Or he could relax. Go with what he wanted to do. It is a team bonding exercise after all, it only makes sense to participate fully. 

Soon, everyone but Kaon had tossed a card in the pile. Kaon cleared his throat and read the card.

"I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure what you're suffering from is called…

Land mines. Yikes." Tesarus stifled a giggle.

"A microspike." Helex, Nickel and Tesarus laughed. Kaon only sighed in feigned exasperation, hiding a smile.

"Poor life choices." 

"Ghosts"

"Being rich." Kaon took a second to think over his choices. 

"Come on!" Tesarus chimed in. "The microspike has got to win." Helex was full on laughing at this point, Nickel was smirking next to him. Kaon glared as best as he could at Tess before declaring his verdict.

"Who played the Microspike?" Nickel raised her hand to nobody's surprise.

*********

"Do not go here! I found blank in my energon!" Helex read out. Tarn considered his options and decided to put The blood of Primus in the pile. Once again, it was time to read the cards.

"Do not go here!" Helex read out " I found…

"Some goddamn peace and quiet"

"Prisoners of war?" Kaon chuckled at that card. 

"The blood of primus." Helex saw the next one and hit his fist on the table and laughed. The suspense of not knowing what was on the card was tense. Vos chattered on in Primal Vernacular with an impish look to his eyes.

"My- my neck, my back, my valve and my aft." Everyone but Tarn laughed, though he did smile ever-so-slightly behind his mask. He stopped when he realized it though, he didn't want to give off the impression that he was that… uncouth.

"I think it's obvious who won this round." Nickel said. "Who played that last one?" Vos reached for the black card, triumphantly hissing as he took it in his hand.

*********

It was Nickel's turn next. Helex passed her a black card, which she read with a humorous smile.

"As the carrier of five rambunctious sparklings, I'm no stranger to… blank." Tarn had the perfect card for this one. He had picked up a two new cards since the beginning:

Insatiable bloodlust 

Sucking spike in a back alley

He didn't want to piss off Nickel, he knew he would pay for it later. So Tarn put in insatiable bloodlust. It's not that he was afraid of her. No way. He just had a healthy respect for her capabilities, that's all. Definitely. She took the cards and shuffled them, then picked the top one up to read it.

"As the carrier of five rambunctious sparklings, I'm no stranger to… 

"Sunshine and rainbows." Nickel chuckled. "Hah! As if."

"Letting everymech down."

"Insatiable bloodlust. Seems more likely, I already have to deal with five full-grown mechs, I definitely couldn't handle that many sparklings without at least a little murder!" The others chuckled a little before she continued.

"Judging everyone." Nickel grimaced at the next card and sighed.

"Maximal insertion?" Everyone but Nickel laughed a little, even Tarn. Helex and Vos on the other hand, were laughing the loudest at the card."Whoever played that card can go frag themselves to the pits. Frag this, Insatiable bloodlust wins. You all suck." Tarn smugly took the point, knowing he hadn't angered the tiny medic. She was currently glaring daggers at the others. Perhaps, he thought to himself, this isn't all that bad. He was quite enjoying himself after all. And it was his turn to judge now. He picked a random black card from the stack and read it.

*********

"The DJD now tortures traitors by subjecting them to… blank." I wonder what the odds are that of all people, I would be the one to draw this card? The others certainly seemed to find it funny, chuckling quietly to themselves as they searched their hands for the perfect card. Now that Tarn wasn't looking for a match as well, he could truly pay attention to the other DJD members and how they acted.

Nickel had a sharp gaze like a bird of prey, carefully judging each white card for the right play. Kaon however didn't seem to even be reading them, leaving it up to chance. He was the first to put down his card. Helex and Tesarus were smirking to themselves as they searched their hands for a good play. And Vos, well he was constantly talking to himself. Tarn could it pick out a few words, but not many. Soon they had all put their cards in a messy pile in front of him and left him to start reading.

"The DJD now tortures traitors by subjecting them to…"

"Semi-automatic weaponry." Makes sense, though maybe a little too much sense to be funny.

"Glitter." 

"Cuddling." While he did find the idea of going gentle on a traitor despicable, Tarn smiled at the thought of it. But the next card soured that rare smile.

"Two mechs one cube." Everyone else found it hilarious. Even Kaon was laughing, small sparks coming off his Tesla Coils. They were all a little tipsy at this point, even Tarn was feeling the effects of the alcohol, but he still cursed under his breath at the fact that he had to read that sentence out loud.

"Mutually assured destruction." Tarn recovered quickly from the last prompt and pondered his choice.

"Well at least we know there's no way I'll win!" Helex chided in loudly. He always got drunker than the others on game night, surprisingly being a lightweight.

"I'm guessing the weaponry one" Tesarus was also quite tipsy having finished a few shots of strong engex. "It's Tarn we're talkin' about!" Kaon agreed, and Vos nodded along too.

"Helex?" The table was silent as everyone looked at the four-armed mech then back at Tarn. 

"Yes sir?"

"Point well won." The table erupted into laughter and cheers. And this time, Tarn joined in.

[mk-wizard]

Transformers Identified Factions

Note that the following is mostly fanlore (including mine) and not official in any way possible. I take no credit for anything and this is all good clean fun.

Quintessons – The oldest identified faction of which all other factions can be traced back to in recorded history. The defining trait of all Quintessons is the green insignia, green optics, clear voices that sound organic and how a vast majority of them have the alien type frame although some of them have had doll or data type frames. No Quintesson bears the wrecker or beast frames though. Not much is known about their culture beyond the fact that code has a huge influence on their society and they are governed by a Grand Judge who is both a political and spiritual ruler. They originate from the planet Quintessa which itself is a strange and they have their own language though they also speak Cybertronian fluently enough. As far as everyone knows, Quintessons are sadistic, evil and their government is not above shady dealings or abusing power to the point where the very people they rule are victims. No one including other Transformers dares to have dealings with them for this reason.

Autobot – Their ancestors were once Quintessons, but one day, the twin prophet sisters Prima and Trinity began a new era for Transformers. Prima was given the Autobot matrix making her the first Autobot leader and Trinity was given the Trion program of wisdom. The defining trait of an Autobot are the red weeping face insignia, blue optics, voices which have an echo tone and how the majority of them have the data body type. They were guided to the planet that would become Cybertron and Autobots have prospered for generations. Tradition states that Autobots would be ruled first by a Prime who comes into power through a hierarchy similar to how Earth royalty to (from the parent to the child), and second by a Trion who comes into power after being trained from very young by the previous one and finally having the Trion program installed into them when they are deemed as ready. Overall, Autobots are a kind and well-meaning race, but they are not without their flaws. They can be a little too proud of tradition and most if not all are very set in their ways and resistant to change even when meant for the better. This has caused two tragic events of which a large group wanted change and even got hostile over it. The first was with the Autbots who would later become GoBots who proposed several notions and opinions that got labeled as heresy. While each side tells a different story on how this social battle went on, what is fact is that the heretic Autbots eventually left Cybertron with most of (what was at the time) the young generation following which had a huge impact on Cybertron for years to come. This resulted in GoBots and Autobots remaining cold and unfriendly to each other to this day. The second case is the more current one being their war with the Decepticons who have also challenge the Autobot way except they merely deem the Prime line as weak and the Trion program as unneeded as knowledge should be for everyone. This makes it clear that while Autobots allow freedom and are a culture based on kindness, they can be rigid towards the idea of change and feel easily threatened by power balances. In fact, it is actually deemed as sin in their code to spark bond with another being who is not an Autobot. As of now, the war between Autobots and Decepticons is cold as Autobots have retaken and rebuild Cybertron and all Decepticons have been banished. To this day they make no contact with each other unless it is for trade reasons.

Decepticon – They were once Autobots, but they converted and renamed themselves. The defining trait of all Decepticons are the purple insignia, red optics, mechanical voices, the ability to fly in robot form and how their culture is centered around combat. They are hostile and believe in survival of the fittest. They reject the Prime lineage deeming it as weak due to the history of irresponsible Primes which lead to several bad outcomes such as the GoBot incident in history and class division where Decepticons were once lower class Autobots who were impoverished and starving. They also deem the presence of a Trion as outdated as knowledge should be for everyone not just one individual. They too are ruled by a single leader who by tradition is always named Megatron if a mech or Megara if a femme and the title of leader is passed on from parent to child. However, if a Megatron or Megara passes on and has no heirs or heiresses, leadership is passed on to the second in command. Despite their aggression, Decepticon society is not without redeeming qualities such as how they are not concerned with social class, they believe is alt mode autonomy which means you can choose any alt mode you want regardless of your job, they believe the way one practices code is their own business and they even allow bots to practice Atheism if they wish, and most notably, Decepticons are open to allowing other to live among them civilly without the requirement of identifying as Decepticons themselves. In fact, it is not uncommon for many Decepticons to identify as rogues and for a few Autobots and even GoBots to fight or live among Decepticons. The only requirement is that they obey the leader, respect the law and cause no trouble. The Decepticon way is an attempt to better society for Transformers by abandoning old traditions that are actually hurting it such as deeming interfactional marriage as sin, having the holy texts only available to clergy, class division and at times, the Prime ruling system. However, it has exchanged one hierarchy for another, poverty is still a huge problem and other personal freedoms have been compromised causing social disarray at times. After the great war, the Decepticons failed to take control of Cybertron and went on to find refuge on their own planet known as Megalas and it is currently in disarray as it is still finding its footing.

GoBot – Like Decepticons, their ancestor were once Autobots though their journey towards making their own faction was a gradual process. The definding traits of all GoBots are organic looking eyes that come in various colours save for blue, a blue insignia of different variations in order to designate their job, the ability to fly is robot mode and alt mode if it too is that of a living being, and their frame type only comes in doll type. While most of the history between GoBots and Autobots is shrouded in mystery with no one truly being sure of who was the victim and who was the villain, this much is fact. During the reign of Vector Prime, a group of Autobots began to question some of the traditions and practices that seemed outdated and rather unjust after seeing how life on other planets was like. Most notably how it did not make sense to deem interfactional marriage as a sin, that the one and only connection to Primus is through energon and how an Autobot cannot choose whichever alt mode they want even if it has no impact on their job. Things got more heated when this group began to question the way the clergy was set up so that they had access to the holy texts when knowledge of Primus should be for everyone especially the prayers. They also began to question if the Prime system was truly efficient and that perhaps such a large planet ought to incorporate democratic elements such as voting and that perhaps there should even be more than just two leaders. This group got labeled as heretics and they in turn rebelled for many years until they left and went on to build their own faction on the planet known as GoBototron taking most of the younger generation with them though it is not known if this was part of some scheme or the younger generation left of their own accord. Currently, Gobots are an entirely democratic society ruled by a president, vice president and twenty senators and they delve scientific research, scientific exploration and fine art. They consider the bond Transformers have with Primus as spiritual rather than physical so they have long since given up energon including in their veins for a blue electrocharged substance they call lifeblood which mimics organic blood. They need only to fuel themselves with sunlight, water and a healthy diet of minerals. They have based much of their technological development on plant life and they have even melded the two by perfecting plant based plastic which is made everyone and even makes up their bodies. In fact, the only metal you will ever find on GoBototron is in your plant or on their techno-organic plants. GoBots themselves are made entirely out of plastic alloys. The most obvious one being plasmetal which hence its name imitates metal, but is much more lightweight, has none of the toxic properties and it is biodegradable. The biggest drawback in their society is that they are not warriors and due to abandoning metal and much of the warrior related traditions, the only trained defenses they have are their military and even with their advances technology in barriers and medicine, they are no match for other Transformer factions. In fact, any GoBot who isn’t part of the military doesn’t have armor as part of their wardrobe program. To this day, GoBots and Autbots keep their distance from each other and most of them are unfriendly and cold towards each other.

Other Factions? – The existence of other Transformer factions is one that has been highly debated across all communities. While most of them are skeptical, archeologists have confirmed that at one time, there may have been others in the past at least as some artifacts with unidentified insignias have been found though even then, it was debated that these insignias only designated roles or social standing. It is also possible that like with the Autobots, other Transformers who were once Quintessons went on to make their own factions or that there were and may still be factions that have no ties to the Quintessons. The most radical theory of all is that during the generations long worth of war between Autobots and Decepticons is that some bots from both sides would sneak away and their descendants went on to find their own factions. Of course, all of this is merely theory.

[amosbrittany]

Shattered chapter 4

Disclaimer : I don’t own Transformers Animated or any characters for that matter.

Notes : I haven’t done fanfiction, let alone TF based, in ages. And never for TFA, So I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing but what the hell, I’m going for it. lol I took quite a few liberties, pulling bits from various continuities to build this sucker.

Warnings : I have a tendency to put characters through hell. A bit of Bumblebee/Blitzwing this chapter. Eventual Optimus/Sentinel, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Jazz/Prowl and Ratchet/Pharma.

Summary : The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but Sentinel’s latest stunt might just kill them all…or worse.

After fourteen million years of conflict and politics, of strife and sorrow, with limited joy and pleasure...He had been ready. The light of the Well of Allsparks had been at arms length, its warmth inviting. It promised the peace he craved, the serenity he longed for. Any moment soon, he would be free. He would be rejoined with friends lost long ago, comrades in arms and even the odd lover. He let himself bask in the warm glow as he waited, knowing it would be all too soon-

Before it all fell apart right before him.

Without warning, he was suddenly, violently ripped from that idealic paradise. The light was snuffed out, engulfed in a stifling darkness. Liquid fire suddenly exploded through his lines before a deathly chill wrapped around him. He found himself awake again, wildly aware and alert. It felt like his spark was smothered in something thick and heavy. Optics focusing, the darkness that surrounded him grew thin and he could see the living world again.

And in front of him, the bane of his new, damned existence.

If Ratchet hadn't arrived when he did, he would have torn Sentinel apart. Plate by plate, component by component. Or maybe he would have returned the favor, killing him and then ramming some insidious object into his spark chamber. For now, Sentinel could rot in Trypticon until he decided on a proper and brutal punishment.

Ultra Magnus snarled to himself as he navigated the deep catacombs of Cybertron, searching for the fountainhead of the Well. If he had to, he was going to throw himself into it and be done with this life. Some time ago, the techno-organic girl had returned the incomplete Allspark to where it came from, restoring its ability to birth new life unto their home world. With any hope, it would guide him to the afterlife. If it didn't...Well, Sentinel had better start praying and hard if he wasn't already.

Ignoring every other noise that echoed along the halls, he registered a consistent skittering sound that followed after him. He had a suspicion who it was, given the reports from Earth and the trial fiasco. It was curious that she would see fit to follow him. Either she wanted to know what he was up to or she was looking for an opening, whether to strike or talk. He had no interest in talking, not to her or anyone. If she had complaints about his not sending troops to retrieve her, he had no reason to bother defending the decision. Smart tactitians didn't send troops into hostile and structurally unstable territories for shells where foolish cadets shouldn't have been treading in the first place.

He came to a large, open space, finding the centurion drones resting in their rank and file. The ominous guardians of Vector Sigma were as imposing as he remembered them. Looking past them, he eyed multi-faceted dome behind them. If he approached, it was likely they would react and attack him. The juggernauts were fierce, powerful. Even he would have some difficulty fighting his way through.

"Dead end?" A female voice purred.

Ignoring the trans-organic femme, he studied the chamber as he began to consider his strategy. The Drones had always been fairly simplistic, one track minded machines. As he devised what he would do about them, he moved forward, slow and wary. Blackarachnia watched from the entrance, somewhat eager since these were legendary mechanisms and it wasn't often one saw the Magnus in action. But as he walked, the Drones simply stood. Ultra Magnus strode on, watching them to his left and right, waiting for something. For whatever reason, they weren't invested in his presence.

Maybe corpses just weren't that much of a threat.

With a wide and triumphant smile, he ascended the steps and threw wide the doors to Vector Sigma, the sight of the softly glowing blue light of the Well greeting him. He stared in hope at the font, giddy for a brief klik. Quickly, he moved forward...and found himself repelled by the light. It forced him back a step, much to his surprise. "What...? What is this!" Hammer discarded, he slammed his hands forward only to feel pushed back. He tried to claw at whatever invisible force was holding him back to no avail, incoherently screaming as a figure began to appear before the light. It was Yoketron's successor, Prowl. "Why am I not allowed?! What is this?!"

"I'm sorry, Ultra Magnus..." Prowl murmured, his voice heavy with grief. "You can't...What flows through you...What's consumed your spark...It's anathema to Primus. When your spark goes out, I'm afraid only the void awaits you."

"WHAT! I didn't do this! This isn't my sin, why am I being the one punished?!" The Magnus roared with fury. The ninjabot simply shook his head sadly, returning to the Well of Allsparks. He stared at the light, dumbstruck.

Blackarachnia observed the exchange from the doors, quickly slinking away. Following and watching the Magnus had been a mistake, this felt like something she nor anyone else should have been witness to. She could feel a dark storm brewing and she intended to have a safe distance between her and him.

As the spider made her escape, Magnus numbly picked up his hammer before he began the slow trek back for the surface. He stared ahead blankly, but his processor was racing. It was going through every possible torture method conceivable he could inflict on Sentinel. It was imagining every sordid, terrible thing he could do to the young Autobot. Finally, in the end, there would be no sweet release for him either. He would damn Sentinel, kill him, and when he eventually joined him in the void...Eternity was going to be a long, wretched ordeal for the Prime to say the least. His plates quivered with his burning hatred and rage.

'That sounds appealing.' An old, dark voice rumbled.

Ultra Magnus growled, hefting up his hammer and whirling around, prepared to bludgeon anyone foolish enough to bother him to death. There was only shadow. "..."

'But...perhaps I can suggest something else.'

He flinched, turning again. Still, there was nothing there. At first he wanted to say his audials were malfunctioning, but the voice was strong and as clear as one could be that sounded like stones grinding together. It felt like they pulsed through his very spark. "Who are you...?"

'Who I am...It is unimportant right now. What is important...is what I can offer you. If you do as I bid.'

The room spun briefly, the darkness creeped in. As much as he tried to see, there was nothing his optics or sensors could pick up. Slowly, he lowered his hammer. "And what exactly is it you want?" There was hardly any harm in hearing out a proposal he supposed, though he had a feeling this one would be a heavy burden to take on.

'Go to Earth. Gather what remains of the Allspark. Fuse it with my blood. REVIVE ME...And you will be free.'

"Your blood."

'That which flows through you, sustains you...that which lies scattered in deposits across the Fringe...'

Ultra Magnus looked down at his own chest, touching at his worn and grey badge. Anathema to Primus. There was only one name in the records that came to mind. The Uncreator. The Chaosbringer...

Unicron.

It all made sudden and terrible sense. And yet...He didn't care. For a brief moment, it had stunned him, but the shock melted into apathy. What did it matter now? He was doomed and for some reason, the thought of taking everyone with him was oddly satisfying. He could probably blame it on the Dark Energon coursing through his lines, corrupting his spark and his processor, generating dark thoughts and emotions. The dead mech who walked laughed grimly. "Of course. Why not? It isn't like Primus is offering me salvation from oblivion..." Was Primus even paying attention? Did he even care?

The silence was telling.

~+~

Ultra Magnus returned topside, formulating what he would do. The Council would not assist his endeavor, even if he told them a half lie. They would not permit him to leave Cybertron and this was a mission he needed to do himself. He couldn't trust anyone else and once the cat came out of the bag, there would be opposition. The greatest obstacle in his way would be Optimus Prime. He was no fool. Anyone who could rise up and defeat Megatron twice was a force to be reckoned with. Even with the power of a Dark God pumping through him, he was not going to take any chances. Unicron whispered to him, telling him all he could do with his new dark gifts.

Determining what he needed in order to succeed, he mentally went over the list he compiled. He needed soldiers. Loyal and completely bound to him, so that he could count on them when the time was right. For what he planned, he needed those capable of stealth. Grunts to provide distraction would also be useful. He would need to disable Cybertron's warp capabilities except for one point, which he intended to use for his own purposes. Last, he needed a base of operation, which he already had his optics set on-

"Ultra Magnus!" He ignored the small voice as he made his way to the mausoleum halls of Iacon. The vast majority of the dead were entombed on Luna 2, but the Halls of Iacon provided the resting places for some of their most memorable heroes. Tiny pedes raced to keep up with him though, showing him the small bot would not be deterred. When he finally huffed in exasperation after the tenth time his name was called and looked down, he stared at Bumblebee. The minibot grinned sheepishly, "Hey there. Audials not working?"

"They are." Ultra grunted, stopping to stare up at the archway leading into the halls where their dead were stored. "I was ignoreing you...What do you want? I'm busy."

"Sure you are-I mean, I was wanting to check on something with you!" Bumblebee began at a mutter under his breath before quickly changing his tone at the way the Magnus glowered at him. "You see, Alpha Trion offered-"

"No."

"But you didn't...He offered-"

"No."

"He offered-!"

"No."

"DAMN IT, HE OFFERED BLITZWING A PARDON IF HE DEFECTED!" The yellow bot screamed before he was cut off again.

Ultra Magnus gave him a bored look. "The mech who destroyed Kappa Supreme and served Megatron for nearly as long as I have been Magnus wants to defect. Is that what you're implying?"

"Yeah. And he warned me, so you know, that the other Cons were hopeful he would free them at some point."

"That doesn't strike you as suspicious?" Another idea began to form, a dark and terrible one.

"Well, he didn't have to warn me. But he did. He could have just went with it. Anyway, he says if you give the green light and he can be with me, then he'll go for the deal."

The massive mech arched an optical ridge. "'Be with you'?" He repeated those words suggestively.

It seemed to take the minibot a moment, but his face plate suddenly went red with heat. "Wh-WAIT! That's not what I meant! That's not how it is!" Although that had been the way Blitzwing had phrased it, and he had an odd tone as he said it...Bumbebee was certain that was not how it was meant. However, when he thought of it like that, it wasn't unappealing somehow. But Ultra Magnus didn't need to know something like that!

"I will consider it. When I visit Trypticon, I will have my decision on the matter. Now if you will excuse me, I have something to do." He tried to dismiss the small bot by stepping forward, but Bumblebee got in his way again.

"Oh yeah, Alpha Trion and bossbot are looking for you too. Urgent and stuff."

The thread on his patience snapped. He swung his hand, backhanding the minibot out of his way harshly. Bumblebee cried out, landing to the side. Ultra Magnus sneered. "I will deal with them in my own time. Next time you get in my way, I will rip you limb from limb." He bared his teeth at the cowering mech who stared back at him in terror. It was a little gratifying, seeing how scared the cocky little bug was. His intense violet optics lingered menacingly on Bumblebee for a klik more, then he turned and headed into the mausaleum. There was the sound of tires squealing in the distance, telling him the minibot was off to report what just happened. No doubt they would come rushing his way once they heard where he was and what he had done since they seemed suspicious of him as it was, so he quickened his pace.

The first tomb he was after was Prowl's. Carefully, he pulled it open, revealing the ninja's prone form. He grabbed a pede, throwing him out of the coffin before pushing the slab back in carefully in an effort to make it look undisturbed. Such care would buy him a little time until someone either looked inside or took note on the security footage. Jazz would most likely be the whistle blower, if not another member of the crew. By then it would be too late.

Dragging the corpse with him, he raided several other tombs for intelligence and stealth agents they had lost in the past. Once he had them, he lined them up and opened each of their chassis to reveal the empty spark chambers of their protoforms. Carefully, he opened his own. The shard Sentinel had implanted was now a cluster that had eaten into the 'flesh' of his protoform. He wondered morbidly how long it would be before it all consumed him. With a grimace, he extracted several shards. One by one, he planted the dark seeds, letting them drag the sparks back from the Well and revive the dead. He hovered over Prowl for a moment, smirking with dark pleasure. It was almost vindicating to do this to the soldier.

'Deny me, will you? How do you like trying this on for size?'

The shard was pushed into Prowl's spark chamber and his chassis closed. Ultra Magnus stepped back as the process repeated itself, lighting up the visor with the same eerie light as his and the others. His smirk faded, hearing a truck drawing closer at a dangerous speed. Just as he expected. As Prowl silently and unsteadily rose, the Magnus turned to his chosen agents. "Hide out of sight, keep to the shadows. Let no one find you. I will give you your assignments before long." The living dead regarded him quietly before they bowed submissively, scattering themselves into the darkness of the halls. Prowl lingered, as if his processor was trying to act on its own, but failed. He darted away, disappearing with the rest.

Satisfied, he turned as Optimus came veering into the sector he stood. Hot on his heels was Bumblebee of course. Transforming, the young Prime stormed towards him, looking ready for a fight. Ultra Magnus simply watched him calmly. "What are you doing here, sir?" He demanded firmly. It didn't go unnoticed how he strained the word 'sir'.

"I'm paying my respects. Or is that a crime now?"

"No...But striking Bumblebee, let alone threatening him like that, was absolutely unnecessary."

"Well...Maybe you should educate him against harassment then. Now, he mentioned something 'urgent' you insist on pestering me with?" Magnus sighed.

Optimus sighed angrily. How could he brush aside his callous behavior so readily? "Alpha Trion thinks that you're strained from...what happened and that it might be too soon for you to resume your position so soon. They feel-"

"A leave of absence is necessary so I am to hand over my hammer and let them run things. Yes, yes, I expected as much." At first, he was prepared to tell them all to slag off...But he realized such a course would work best in his favor. His access would still be in play, he simply wouldn't be on their radar. He glanced briefly at his hammer. "I will step aside and let the lot of you deal with matters then...But I want to keep my hammer. I feel...safer with it in hand. I fear Shockwave's attack has left me feeling somewhat...vulnerable."

His newly appointed Second seemed to falter there. His face softened a little and Ultra Magnus could practically hear him reasoning in his head that the stress was simply making the old mech lash out and act up. Not an entirely wrong assessment of the surface, but it all went so much deeper. But the poor lad would be none the wiser. "I...guess that makes sense. I don't know how Alpha Trion will feel about that but I'll check with him and get back with you."

"Lovely. As I told your little...friend...I'll be heading out to Trypticon here shortly for a bit of personal business. Since the matter will now be in his hands, I will let Alpha Trion decide what to do about Blitzwing."

"Thank you, sir." Optimus gave him a crisp salute. Bumblebee's was less respectful as the minibot glared at him.

Ultra Magnus smiled. "No, Optimus, thank you."

[twitchesandstitches]

One thing I’ve been thinking about; I’m not shy in balancing out the boy/gal/nonbinary ratios (generally in favor of the latter two) and Transformers is shaping up to be a pretty important deal in Crossthicc, both in terms characters present in the factions, overall influence on the aliens and societies seen, metaphysics and the scale of aliens in general… so what of their main gods?

What of Primus, the creator of all things? What of Unicron, the deity of undeath and absolute extinction? And waht if the 13 Original Primes, the first true Transformers and gods to many aliens?

I had the idea; what if in Crossthicc, Primus and Unicron are fembot goddesses?

For one thing, as Transformers, visual presentation is largely a matter of personal choice, and its not as though there’s much of a reason for them canonically to not be. For another, it’s kind of awesome.

In this case, both of them still have largely the same motivations and outlooks as in canon; the biggest chance here is simply that they are giant goddesses, but still have the same significance to the setting as a whole.

Primus, here, is generally considered the mother of all life, whether in a literal or figurative sense; while mechanical life is specifically made in her image - and the argument can be made that organic life is an aberration - she still laid the seeds for organic life to evolve, and they are metaphysically her children. She tends towards a gravid, maternal shape that the big ladies of the MILF fleet often unknowingly emulate. As far as anyone knows, she may in fact BE the first MILF in the cosmos, or close to it.

While Primus is certainly present in-fic, it’s not clear where she is. Originally she had divided parts of a previous avatar into various worlds her Transformers could call home after they successfully beat Unicron in ages past, but when the corrupt Functionalist government forcibly combined all those worlds into the single planet of Cybertron without consideration for the culture clashes, their corruption and cruelty set the seeds for a massive civil war. Cybertron has long since been inactive and dead… but Primus herself lives.

Primus is a gentle and noble soul, who loves all living things regardless of what they are, and is largely an incredibly passive figure. While she may act on her own, she will do nothing of the sort until there is no other option. She would rather act by inspiring others: “It is best that mortals win their battles without being sure if I did anything at all. It is the best way for them to grow.” In particular, she endorses growth, change and mutation of all sorts, and her blood, the material known as Energon, induces the growth of life and transformations of all kinds, which is considered sacred to her. She is the goddess of Transformers, after all.

Primus is worshiped by countless entities, across the multiverse, though they may not be aware of it; many a robotphobic civilization has revered a creator god and unknowingly been giving homage to the machine-goddess herself. Appropriately, she takes whatever form she pleases, manifesting in the dreams and making herself clear to a thousand prophets, and the greatest of those who speak in her name is the Prime of Cybertron, with the Matrix of Leadership a token of her very flesh, given to anoint her chosen ones and convey her will to all living things, who are her people; from the tiniest micro-organisms, to the mightiest sapient war machines. However, her power to manifest into the material planes are limited, and she is highly reluctant to do so again and risk more disaster as she has in the past. She is so distant, in fact, that many other gods and goddesses act on her behalf, making her something of a greater good paragon even by the standard of genuine deities.

The 13 Primes are all alive and well - even if this seems completely impossible - and are flat out gods, though not on the same scale as Primus herself. Generally, assume that they are all non-binary or fembots, with the notable exception of Megatronus and Solus Prime, who are definitely male and female respectively. Of note is Onyx Prime, who is usually referred to by masculine pronouns but can be changed up to suit the way the AU shapes out. Onyx is the progeniator of beastformers, or Transformers who assume monstrous and animal-themed alternate forms, and is named for the pure black shade of their metal form; they were the most ferocious of the Primes, the most monstrously horrifying in appearance… and the wisest, and kindest, of them all. They gave rise to the world of Eukaris, which became the land of beastformers, and later the nation-state of Simfur on Cybertron. Grimlock is the last king of Simfur, and a fervant worshiper of Onyx Prime, which may have gotten the attention of this long dormant deity of honor and civilization.

Uncron has a bit more of a femme fatale vibe, and her habit of devouring entire planets is more strictly vore themed, and done in her humanoid mode rather than her planet form. Sort of a combination of Galacta, Daughter of Galactus, with elements of a truly malicious goddess of death and destruction. While her physical form is a gorgeously curvy fembot, she is incredibly bad news; she would devour all the multiverse if she could, for unknown reasons; as it is, she may well be a personification of the idea of cosmic extinction, and undying hatred. Some rumors suggest that Unicron and Primus were originally components of a more ancient titan, and that Unicron was originally that titan’s cancerous sickness, and to this day Unicron acts as such.

Unicron’s sole goal appears to be spreading death and ruin, and to a lesser extent making Primus irritated by making life miserable for the mortals she cares so much for. However, she is fundamentally a creative entity, and appears to be making something with all the death she has made. Perhaps she devours planets and is recycling them into new creations, or is compelled to outdo Primus at her own game. One such creation are the mysterious Reapers (of Mass Effect fame), here the vanguards of Unicron and her attempt to improve on the idea of the Transformers. When she devours entire species, she shapes their digested essence into a Reaper and endows it with her own essence, and thus she is surrounded by a vast fleet and living temple to her own insatiable hunger and bloodlust. Eternally they worship their mother-goddess, praising her and living solely for her twisted world-view. She finds this… pleasing. This may yet explain her true motivations; to erase the multiverse and replace it with something that reveres her, alleviating the chronic loneliness and isolation she has suffered through eternally, and the torment she may experience from existence just… being there, in spite of her.

When all is silent, and existence itself simply stops save for that which is like her, than she will be pleased, when all is Unicron.

[black-strike-otp]

part 2

time to shitpost becuz it’s hard to sleep with loud assholes about lmao

Of course, the heroin of this story cannot die because what fun would that be and how would otp be a thing (unless- ghost au. But let's not)? So a wee little gullible Novastrike managed to survive being in Decepticon territory. She’s very cautious and takes a slow, tedious trek with little risk as possible as she tries heading back to familiar Autobot territory. It takes weeks, but it’s worth it in the end when she manages to rejoin a fellow group of Autobots.

Quickly identified, Novastrike is immediately court-martialed by an Autobot officer. She is found guilty of some of the accusations against her; and is offered minor penalties more or less. Apparently news had reached Optimus Prime himself and although not thrilled with an escaped Decepticon commanding officer, he realizes that from reports, the ideals of Autobots were indeed not being followed by her team and gave the femme some slack.

With a ‘slap on the wrist’ punishment more or less, Nova is eventually allowed to be placed back in service. She is moved to a less-popular location for work and given the duty clean up crew, ie, doing the lackey chores around base, cleaning up after others, aiding in the disposal of bodies (”who was this, sir?” “Don’t ask questions, femme, just do your job.” “.... Yes sir.”).

Nova sees no battle, does nothing of particular value, and spends her spare time training despite the occasional mocking comment that there’s no way she’s ever going to see combat again. Undeterred; perhaps just stubborn or convinced she will see combat one way or another (of her choosing or not), she continues on training.

It pays off.

A Decepticon raid takes the Autobots off guard in the area. The entry of the base becomes overrun. Novastrike ends up joining those defending the area, and helps to hold the line until reinforcements.

She’s praised for her bravery, and it’s pointed out her combat skills are rough and sloppy, but she lived. Minor injures, but she was a good shot- but with a stun gun? Most say that was a ludicrous choice in weaponry, and Nova just shrugs it off and states there’s no weapons around for her size besides the training weapons.

Honest. There’s a small voice in the back of Novastrike’s head though. A flutter in the pit of her tanks. A jumping pulse momentarily in her spark.

The young femme has never killed before. The idea unnerves her, greatly.

With the pressure of the war mounting on even their unimportant locations doorstep, the commanding officer commissions new weapons be made. And he even takes into account Novastrike, under the high regard of some other Bots.

Slowly, the duties of others on base shift to allow everyone more training hours as well as give the responsibility of cleaning up the base. With more free time, Nova can train with more bots. It’s slow work, very slow, but she starts to progress in dealing with various size bots and smaller bots, and minicons, help advise her and encourage her the most.

A nearby base radios across Autobot channels one day they are under enemy fire and recover backup. The commanding Autobot of Nova’s base assembles a team. He’s hesitant to call up upon Novastrike but does so- trusting she will bring her recently assembled weapons.

What a foolish child, this little femme. She swallows her fear best she can, and at the last possible moment, switches out her new shiny guns for her training stun guns. Primus, she didn’t want to offline anyone.

It’s a massacre. Inbound, and they can see bodies litter the ground. Aboard the airship they’re dropped close to the ground and their air support takes off to aid from above. Novastrike can’t even take it all in. She’s never seen so many dead Cybertronian. Energon is everywhere, faces frozen even in death with horror and pain.

Her knees nearly buckle. This senseless violence, this carnage and death, and all for what? Couldn’t there be another way, was there no other alternative than to kill those who didn’t agree with you? The Council that had controlled Cybertron was scattered and most dead, could they not just work on a new government, could they not just work together?

There is yelling and blood and everyone is charging. Nova is caught up in the fray; stumbling over corpses with a shudder and soft apology. The deceased deserve better than to be trampled on in death.

“Primus bless your Sparks, I am sorry.”

Novastrike quickly tries to avoid confrontation as they charge head-on into the Decepticon forces. Spark pounding she follows the edges of battle towards the Autobot base, perhaps hoping to help others out there.

A femme blocks her way. She grins wildly; but she doesn’t see Nova. Her eyes are fixed on someone else in the throng of battle.

Spotting the Decepticon insignia on the femme’s shoulder, Novastrike stops. She raises her pistol shakily and fires, several times.

The stun rounds hit the femme and she shrieks wildly. She turns but it’s too late; too many stun rounds hit her and she stumbles awkwardly and falls.

Shuddering, Novastrike darts around the femme’s limp form and hurries along.

A weak plea for help catches her attention. Nova follows it, crawling over some deceased bodies to spot a Decepticon lying in a twisted heap of metal, his torso all but frayed in two.

An overwhelming sense of sympathy and an urgent need to do something sends Novastrike scrambling down to the mech’s side. He offers his servo, and she doesn’t even hesitate to grasp his digit gently.

“Please help... please help me.”

“What can I do?” Nova asks. She’s clueless. She’s no medic. She can’t help this mech. Her optics well with tears.

The mech continues to mutter weakly, his words turning to a slur. Novastrike grips his digit tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispers while watching the mech slowly die. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

The light of his optics flicker and slowly fade. A gray hue begins to slowly creep over the mech’s frame as his mouth falls slack.

Novastrike places a servo against her mouth and bows her head. With a quiet prayer in her thoughts, she stands respectfully silent for the mech.

A shudder ripples through the ground. Novastrike looks up and hears the crack of an enormous weapon; energy rippling in the air.

An explosion nearly atop of her causes the front of the Autobot base to become a field of shrapnel and fire. Novastrike releases the mech’s digit and runs. It’s all she can hope to do as searing hot metal comes flying; searing and shooting straight through her limbs as she awkwardly dives over bodies.

The explosion forces Nova right in the midst of the fighting. Beads of energon dot her frame where twisted metal hit her, cut through her with ease. She’s shaking, sizzling circuits crackling, optics wide and side somewhat scorched.

Pedes are slamming all around her and Nova dodges wildly, not knowing who is who, where her allies are. She leaps away from the spray of weapon and splatter of others. A mech takes notice of her, and fires off an array of bullets. Nova dances back, trips, and manages to fall into the chassis of a dead bot of some kind.

With a squeal of fright she tries clammering out. The mech is momentarily distracted with firing at someone else, but spots her getting up and begins to shift his weapon towards her.

Unwilling to wait for another spray of fire, Nova half sags back into the cover of the torn up dead Cybertronian and raises her stun gun and fires it wildly at the mech.

He goes down.

With a breath of relief, Novastrike climbs out of the carcass’s holey body. She feels a stir in her, a small determination.

Before the feeling can leave her she charges into the fight.

There’s no good thing about war. But there is good. Novastrike proves relentless, not in killing, but in delaying. If knocking someone out, or down, saves a life, that is what she will do. And that is what she does.

She backflips out of the way of an energy-based shot and fires at the next mech. Rolls from a femme and shoots at her legs until she’s spasming and falling down. Paralyzing another Con’s arm so he retreats with a shocked and irritated expression.

Twisting and jumping out of the reach of a mech’s sword, Nova catches a tall shadow out of the corner of her optic. She shoots the mech attacking her but he still sluggishly advances.

She’s sidetracked though. Just a second, just a moment’s too long glance.

It’s that General. And he is pointedly looking at her. His gaze almost seems... amused?

Nova fumes. She considers the Fucking Giant, and is surprised as she’s knocked roughly aside by a weak swing by the mech’s sword as the flat side hits her.

Bouncing once, Nova skirts along the ground a moment and flops down. She sits up quickly to see the growling Decepticon advancing again.

She fires at him. He tries blocking her with his sword, and manages a few times, but not enough. Slowly, he falls to his knees, and collapses.

Venting a sigh, Novastrike flicks her optics to where she saw Satan at last. The mech was nearly out of range of her stun pistols already, but maybe-

She raises her gun, and fires.

Click. Click. Click.

“Frag,” Novastrike mutters. The damn things needed a recharge.

The small femme watches, witnessing mechs and femmes being cut down with ease by the Large Monster. He raises his cannon and fires. It’s massive; and cuts through a mech’s armor with fair ease.

Novastrike shudders. Was that what had caused the explosion at the entrance...?

Blackout turns slightly, blowing a hole clean through another Autobot who had tried to leap onto the big fragger when he was distracted.

Slipping her pistols away, Novastrike curls her tail close to her body. She looks around, and spots with some grateful cowardice some Autobots retreating off t oher far left.

Taking a final, swift glance back at the beastly mech tearing the entrails out of a femme who had managed to get close and attack the mech from the side, Novastike shuddered and took off after the other Autobots.

As she ran, she could hear a horrifying metallic noise from behind. She never dared turn back, but something, something came out from behind the retreating Autobots and whatever it was, the last thing she wanted to do was stop or slow down.

A few good Autobots were left behind by the cowards like Novastrike who continued to flee. Their screams echoing in the femme’s thoughts long past the time they had escaped and into the sleepless night-cycles to come.