#newspark

[jamesdegriz]

Oh my god! That's something I didn't know I needed to make my day today. 😌 😍

Have I ever posted these? I don’t remember if this is supposed to be Steeljaw or Ravage, but enjoy baby

[wavewavethoughtsonly]

Give Soundwave the best kind of pain: back pain >:3

Soundwave won’t admit he’s in pain, so he lets Shockwave feel it by giving him the cold shoulder. Fortunately it doesn’t last long.

If anyone’s to blame for the back pain and the extra (baby) weight, it’s Shockwave.

[final-milf-ratchet]

Not the magnus anon, consider, ultra magnus orgy with Predaking, Optimus, and Wheeljack.

Maybe he gets sparked 👀

Big, heavy, refineries. Also babies. Full of babies. Between Optimus' breeding kink and Predakings probable breeding kink(at the very leat repopulating his species) and wheeljack definitely being a kinmy fucker. He is fucked out and full of transfluid.

Who r u and how TF did you get my notes app!!!!! 🫣🫣🫣 Akkslqkakskwwaaa Am I that obvious!?!??! 😭 Breeding kink so strong it shines through da goddamn blog 😔😔

Okay but idea: instead of Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack and Predaking fighting, it devolves into an orgy 😳😳 maybe predakings in rut or something, he's obv pissed at losing the rest of the predacons, but luckily for him he's got a nice big bot in front of him perfect for breeding.

They do fight of course, well, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus think they're fighting but Predakings trying to get a perceived rival (Wheeljack) out of the way long enough for him to claim Ultra Magnus. Wheeljack gets thrown into the wall and gets back up just in time to see Predaking fingering Ultra Magnus open, just enough prep so Ultra Magnus can take the heads of both of his spikes.

^wheeljack trying to figure what he's supposed to do, he just gained respect for Ultra Magnus and now realized he ALSO wants to fuck him

Maybe fucking you mate on top of your defeated 'rival' is some kinda instinctive predacon thing 🤭🤭

Optimus comes back to check on them and make sure Wheeljack and UM are okay, and instead walks in on Ultra Magnus being spit roasted, covered in paint transfers that make it clear Wheeljack and Predaking have both fucked him multiple times. Optimus and ultra Magnus have been dancing around a whole 'thing' since Magnus landed on earth, so of course he's going to want Optimus to take a turn filling him up with transfluid.

They ground bridge back to base later like "surprise! New dragon autobot :)" and the kids are distracted enough by a cool ass dragon transformers they don't notice Ultra Magnus hiding away until the transfluid bump goes away. But it turns out with three attentive sires, the bump doesn't go away. In fact, Ultra Magnus just gets bigger as the sparklings of a prime and a huge predacon (and Wheeljack's tiny bitty that was kinda a surprise cause she was hiding behind her siblings in the scans) grow inside him. Poor Magnus 🤭🤭🤭

(also poor fowler, having to deal with these horny robots having BABIES. Maybe him and June can have a nice date night to make up for it lol)

[cityzenshark]

What if newborn Cybertronian protoforms look different from Terran protoforms?

Terran protoforms look more organic than metallic. Some parts of their body mimic that of human muscles. The glowing ovals around their body looks squishy, too.

Maybe Cybertronian protoforms are just armorless, in a way it more of a walking skeleton than a person. Instead of ovals, they'd have numerous biolights (refer to tfp Soundwave).

This could explain why Megs and OP are wary of Twitch and Thrash when they first met.

[thegerto]

I has to upload these drawings before i forgot about them

Here is:

-Decepticon Burnskull (OC)

-Wasp/Waspinator

-Punch/Counterpunch

-Wheelie and Brains

-Red Alert (Male and Female)

-And The Hero of The Future: Rodimus Prime

[witchofthesouls]

The image of Tarn lying down with a flock of 6 multicolor bitties with as of yet unidentifiable kibble nibbins using comms to dictate his report to one of his team is an increasingly common sight. Bitties snoozing away happily at Tarn's Spark as his engine purrs at them.

Megatron once accidentally witnessed this. He took an image capture for "blackmail." One of the sleepy babys was nomming the mask. It was adorable.

Tarn guards his wriggling flock of tiny (to him), soft bodies with the intensity of a nesting dragon, and part of his hoard is his office chair that's extremely comfortable, absolutely durable, and can recline.

Tarn has a holo-screen and digital keyboard that can be manipulated to follow his gestures, so he already has a habit of doing his administrative duties in a reclined position.

Most of them settle down easily to nap upon the biolights, cozy and warm. However, the smaller ones can wiggle their entire bodies into the crook of his neck, so they get the direct thrum of his exposed cabling and the vibrations of his voice as well as the heat of his shoulder treads.

While Tarn can mute the peripheral noise and angle the screen just right to keep his torso out, any emergency meetings are treated to the sight of Tarn with two newsparks acting like little kittens nuzzling in a nook that's right in the very few gaps of his heavy armature that's beneath his chin, sleepily chewing on a toy.

Tarn can't get them out because it would cause a ruckus, so he pretends that there's nothing there and Megatron allows it.

[cliff-and-the-kid]

Sunset

(Haven't been in a good headspace to roleplay much lately, but I did start writing one of about four variant options for the Cyberkid AU today, and this is the one I think I'm gonna use as a 'verse on here)

He is a Seeker. Like her. Tall, broad shoulders, tapered waist. Elegant wings. Cruel face. He is Commander Starscream. Her- not progenitor. CNA donor. Supervisor, mentor, flight leader. Not guardian, never guardian. He is in charge of her training, her preparation for battle, for facing the Autobot threat. He is not liable for her injuries; those are her responsibility. He is given the credit when she completes an assignment, passes a benchmark, as if she’s only a trained pet.

He named her Sunset - the End of Days, the Blazing Conclusion.

It doesn’t feel right.

---

An Autobot is captured and thrown in the brig.

She’s not supposed to know about it, but the foot soldiers are constant gossips, and despite her bright colors Sunset is small and slim and knows how to stay out of the way, unnoticed, so she can listen without anyone growing uneasy and editing their words.

She follows Starscream’s voice as he crosses the ship, bragging to Knockout about all the ways he’s already hurt the bot and all the options that yet remain. He says something about show off the human, but that- that makes something in her processor skip, data catching and coiling unhappily until she shoves the entire thread aside, focuses on sneaking down the corridors unseen.

Starscream and Knockout stay in the main interrogation room for a long time. Sunset finds a good perch to climb up and brace herself against, waiting. Eventually, the Air Commander and Doctor leave, radiating smug fields that overlap and make her tank churn.

No one else lingers in the hall. The regular patrol that circles through the brig won’t make another pass for 2.1 breems seventeen minutes so she needs to make this quick.

What exactly ‘this’ is, Sunset hasn’t quite figured out yet, but- but.

She needs to get into that room.

She needs to see the Autobot.

Blunt fingers pick at the door’s control panel, so she can tweak a few wires within. Sunset has access to most of the Nemesis, but not all. And just trying to blindly blunder around down here of all places will almost certainly send an alert to Soundwave, who will pass it along to Starscream, and then Sunset will really be in trouble. At least if the Eradicons catch her down here, she might be able to play the ‘I’m just a clueless little freshpaint’ card and keep them from reporting the incident-

All concerns of getting caught are wiped away in an instant, when she gets the door to slide open and sees the Autobot.

Cliffjumper

He’s bulky. Not elegant. Scuffed and scratched and missing chunks of plating, opening up his protoform to painful injury. He’s red, like her.

His name is Cliffjumper

“Back for more, Screamer?” He rasps, not looking up. Clamps around each arm and energy restraints keep him hanging from the ceiling. He isn’t actively leaking energon, but there’s an obvious puddle on the ground below his dangling legs.

Sunset is maybe about as tall as his chestplates. She’s supposed to be smaller.

Her lack of response must catch his attention. One blue optic weakly flickers to life, and the Autobot raises his head to peer towards the door. He sees her. His ragged ventilations stop. The silence crystalizes around them, something delicate, entirely too fragile like glass, like a thin wall separating breathable air from deadly gas-

And then the ‘bot gasps, “Sierra?” and corrupted data slams into her frontal processing hey kid want a lift You go to school with Jack Darby right My partner’s the one he got that motorcycle from Well it’s a bit of a long story Oh right I’m not the one who said I’m a remote-controlled car that was your line My name’s Cliffjumper Cliffjumper CLIFFJUMPER

It hurts.

Keening agony wells up from her spark- crackles through her voicebox- spills out her mouth. She staggers, almost falling to the ground, but- but she can’t, not while Cliff needs her-

“Sierra,” he repeats, alarmed, entire frame jolting as he strains against the restraints. She can hear the glyphs layered over it, utterly unlike the ones Starscream uses; warm and soft-edged, Cherished and Gift and Light of Dawn- “Kid-!”

A whine. A step. She needs to- to get to the controls. She has to. She has to save him-

He.

He tried to save her.

The glass cracked, and gravity twisted, the world spun, and Cliffjumper tried to save her.

Her hands find the control panel. She doesn’t waste time hacking it, only in seeking the right key sequence. The clamps disengage- Cliff drops to the floor- Cliff immediately shoves himself upright, sparks jumping from exposed circuits, and he’s halfway across the floor but he reaches out regardless-

Sierra slides in for the hug.

---

They have 1.8 breems- fourteen minutes before the regular patrol, potentially far less if Soundwave received an alert from the interrogation room’s controls. Sierra puts herself under Cliffjumper’s better arm, and helps him limp along as quick as they can, down another level and straight towards the nearest airlock.

She only has to shoot two Vehicons. She doesn’t pause to look and see if they were ones she liked.

Cliff doesn’t say a word about her wings, before or after Sierra transforms. He only asks, “You sure?” when she tells him to lay over her narrow cockpit.

“I won’t be able to gain altitude,” Sierra tells him. “But I can control our fall. Come on, we’re wasting time!”

They need to descend swiftly, get away from the shielding that surrounds the Nemesis and call-

Not base. Not the silo. Static catches in her voicebox, because she remembers, but the silo is gone now, Starscream took her to fly over its ruins and gloat-

Sierra shoves the memory files away. Cliff will call someone, he said they could get a groundbridge and they will. She isn’t going to let him die here, not at Starscream or Megatron or anyone else’s hands.

The airlock opens. Sierra fires her thrusters, straining under Cliffjumper’s weight. They take off, and immediately start dropping. But it’s okay, it’s fine, she can manage, she will manage, she will get to go-

-home.

Where is home, now?

Engines roar above them. Eradicons, taking flight from the top deck and descending fast. Sierra tracks them with her sensors, readies herself to spin and dodge as best she can with Cliffjumper clinging onto her wings - but it isn’t necessary.

Green light flares to life, directly below.

Where doesn’t matter. Home is with Cliffjumper.

They drop through the bridge.

[tiptoesnose]

CALLING ALL SAM FANS!

I have an idea for one of the oneshots I am working on, if you would like, please leave a bot name for Sam. I am looking for good ones, bad ones, cursed and wacky ones. Anything goes really. This is for Tales of a Newspark series so if you want to get an idea for names from there. Even if you are not a Sam fan or have read the one shots, feel free to leave a transformer name!

[one-and-only-alpha-trion]

...

Trion?

“Yes younger sibling of mine?” The elderly sage inquired in return as he worked on uploading copies of one singular file onto various means of physical data storage.

[spark-of-phoenix]

@twcwheeler from X

Audials perked within the helm, and the femme turns towards the direction of the voice. Tri hues blink up at the crates, and for a moment Arcee thinks if the two had met somewhere.

Or... had her reputation spread farther than she imagined? Great Arcee, she never expected to hear that attached to her designation. In good or bad, sincerely or with sarcasm.

" Great sounds like a title reserved for the few, but Arcee would be my designation-" Arms cross, and weight shifts on one pede, studying the figure farther above. " Following me?"

"Isn't that what all Autobot are? Great, Courageous, Heros" Fireblade may be saying words that could be taken as praise, but her tone of voice says otherwise.

Maybe it's the hero-worshiping that the other newsparks seems to lay upon the older bots who was in the war. Or maybe it's her young native nature to the reality of the past, that stops her from seeing how necessary the war was. Even with all it's loss.

[thicctails]

Spoilers for a possible scene in By the light of ghost stars BC I was thinking thoughts last night. Mind the tags!

Primus meets his first humans :)

haha i gave the funny robot god trauma.

[In this scene, I'll probably make it so that Sam hasn't gotten his alt yet, only his bot form. He'll get his alt when the Primal Rage kicks in and Primus decides he needs a more aggressive form]

When I initially decided to make Sam become the new vessel of the AllSpark, I already knew that it would create problems, both physically and mentally, for him. Being forced to give up your humanity at the whim of some ancient deity is no picnic.

However

I realized that it would be very interesting to see Primus face repercussions for possessing and changing Sam (although he didn't have much of a choice). Yes, Sam's body has been changed to be more inline with what he creates, but Primus has never really experienced a regular, mortal form.

Primus has been an untouchable god to his creations, and despite his dormancy, he has always been revered by his creations. None of them would ever wish him harm, and they didn't know that the AllSpark was, in a way, Primus, when they launched it into space.

While he knows who Sam is (he's had months to study him while he brought him back and changed his body) and he knows that he's on a new planet with some of his creations, he really hasn't been aware of what has been going on since he got launched out into space, away from his body. He knew that there was a war, but he didn't know how bad it had gotten until he realized how many sparks had returned to the Well upon awakening when Sam did. As a result, he immediately set about gestating a batch of newsparks.

Despite being awake, Primus didn't actually get to experience the world until he took control of Sam after he got knocked out. Primus has no idea that he's not in good company, and since the only human he's had experience with was willing to sacrifice anything for his last Prime, he mistakenly believes that all humans are good. He's never been attacked directly, never experienced fear. He doesn't pick up on the danger until a set of harpoons sink into him and hold him down.

Primus might be a god, but Sam is not, and Primus is in his body. He panics, overwhelmed by the new, negative senses, and the researchers manage to get his gestation chamber open and extract one of the newsparks before he realizes what's happening.

While the humans don't understand what they're holding, Primus does, and he's furious.

Primus doesn't trust humans easily after that.

[ivycorp]

Riot's TFP AU: The quiet before the storm (in more ways than one)

Peace has been tentatively arranged between both sides following the appearance of their leaders' sparkling - first in a very, very long time in the history of Cybertron.

However, it doesn't mean there is no more fighting involved.

Optimus fell hard onto the ground, data cables tangled around his pede, as a slim servo gripped his finals and slammed his face into the ground. Before he got a chance to recuperate, the mech on his back managed to do it a couple more times, keeping him disorientated.

"That's enough, Soundwave, thank you." 

The disappointed huff came from the side of the ring, where Megatron sat comfortably, cradling Silverlight; the child was curled up, happily napping above his spark, supported by one clawed servo. The warlord himself kept on rubbing small circles on it, chirping occasionally when the sparking would wake up at a particularly loud clang or grunt until it would relax once more. The red optics of their carrier were glaring at the Autobot unimpressed, as the blue mech finally released his hold of Prime's helm, stepping off his back.

"I told you that you need to keep track of the cables when he drops low like this - it's the fifth time you're falling for the same trick, Optimus," said the Decepticon leader, clicking his glossa in annoyance. The red and blue bot groaned before he pushed himself up, looking at his partner in exhaustion.

"I know, but it's harder than it looks," Prime complained, but there was no sympathy coming from his lover, who instead snorted lightly.

"I know it's hard - I know very well how good Soundwave is at fighting,” the warlord admitted, nodding appreciatively. “I'm happy to say he hasn't lost his edge," the warlord noted with a hint of pride. Optimus could see the compliment was actually well received; despite the strained relationship between the Decepticon command and their leader, the TIC stood straighter - preening, smugness in every little bit of his frame. 

It seems that while the communications officer did not agree with the relationship between his old friend and his 'lover turned enemy turned lover again', he still recognized the value of such words coming from a fellow former gladiator. Megatron might have been biased in fighting the ex-Archivist, but he was still a formidable opponent to anyone else. 

Especially since he finally got used to actually wearing his visor, which allowed him to see who he was fighting in the first place - this time without having to worry about the helmache at the too bright light in his surroundings. 

(Admittedly, the appreciation of the device was most likely founded by the fact that not only could he change its settings, letting him adjust the transparency easily, but could also run entertainment on the inside, which may or may not have already been used during some of the more boring meetings or medical tests.

Raf promised to Bumblebee that he will figure out if they can run Doom on it.)

Nonetheless, Soundwave was quite obviously having a lot of fun; he could see the deceptively delicate digits curl into fists anticipatingly, undoubtedly looking forward to the next opening left in the Autobot's defense. Despite the TIC standing completely still a few steps away, Optimus felt like he was being circled by a predator, pacing slowly around him - waiting to strike, aiming to kill. 

When Megatron announced that he needed his partner to 'stay in peak physical condition', Prime expected it to be a veiled reference to interfacing (which he would have been very interested in 'practicing'). To his astonishment, the silver mech actually scheduled a set of regular sparrings for him, asking his officers if anyone was up for the task.

Soundwave was the first and only one to step up to the challenge, and by then the bot should have known he was in trouble.

While the bouts were supposed to be actual exercise to everyone involved, with the Decepticon TIC in the ring it felt more like a one-sided battle for survival; the blue mech gleefully exploited the opportunity to resolve his underlying distaste for the Prime by beating the everloving slag out of him. 

All of that happened to a running commentary of the warlord, who kept on chastising each of the mistakes made by his lover. He managed to sound stern even as he shushed their sparkling, matter-of-factly criticizing the other with the level of focus that would have been frightening coming from anyone else; with them engaged in combat so often, it was easy for the silver mech to note even the slightest hesitation and obliviousness - none of which could be permitted with such an experienced opponent.

"Again," Megatron ordered, rubbing his helm tiredly, and the Communication Officer focused on the Bot still sitting on the ground.

Optimus would have laid down in protest had he not known from experience that it would not actually get him out of getting his aft handed to him. He scrambled to get up, barely managing to block the first punch, side-stepping the appendage which tried to throw him off balance.

“Am I interrupting something?” queried a new voice, and the Prime nearly got his smokestack ripped off by being distracted; his companion laughed, patting the bench beside him in invitation at the psychiatrist, who approached them with mild curiosity in his optics.

“No, Rung, you are just in time to see my conjunx get a taste of skill forged in the Arena of Kaon,” he mentioned, gesturing towards the ring, where the mech in question was intently focused to not give any ground to the vicious attacker. Soundwave’s data cables were hard to predict, but he had to admit that with each beating it was becoming less difficult to keep track of them - ugh, he would have to actually admit to Megatron that his weird training plan is working; he was going to be insufferable about it, he was sure.

“Will you be doing this too?” the small bot asked, taking a moment to smile at the small sparkling in the other’s grasp that opened their bright optics to look at him when he joined their carrier. He waved at it, delighted at its soft beeping, and the Decepticon snuggled it closer, humming a gentle tune in response.

“Can’t, I’m carrying,” the warlord sighed, rocking the child against his chestplates absent-mindedly. Rung looked at him pensively, as Jazz approached them after handing over the console back to Prowl, having finished logging the remaining reports. He watched his friend jump away from a kick aimed at his interface array, crossing his servos at the sight.

“I’m sure Optimus could watch the kid for a moment, it would be good for you too to get some exercise in, too - relieve some tension and all that,” the Autobot SIC mentioned, keeping his optics on the fight in front of him, just as the Matrix bearer ducked to the side from being grabbed by his opponent, earning a pleased sound from the other former gladiator in the room.

“See? You got it this time, I knew you could do it!” he praised his lover loudly, and the Prime perked up, finally getting positive feedback. He couldn’t help shooting his partner a beaming smile; that distraction caused him to miss the two cables sneaking in from his sides, looping around his neck and dragging him down right into Soundwave’s pointy knee joint.

Megatron watched the Autobot go down again, letting out a loud ex-vent of exasperation. 

“We will have to work on that…” he muttered, before he called out to the TIC to step off from the other’s helm. The blue bot complied, but not before grinding his pede a little bit harder, earning a hiss of pain from Optimus. The Autobot leader pulled himself up, wiping his faceplates from the dirt yet again that day, as he turned angrily, clearly annoyed at his progres being thrown back into his face so swiftly.

“Again,” the silver mech announced again, before he turned to address Jazz, who had been joined by Bulkhead and Miko in the meantime, both cringing away at the last maneuver.

“When I said I am carrying, I didn’t mean it in a ‘I am holding Silverlight and that prevents me from participating’,” he started, before he smiled widely, tapping his chest once again, saying “I meant it as ‘there is another sparkling growing in there and the medics would not let me live it down if I jeopardized its well-being like that’.” 

Rung sat there, observing the entire exchange with a conflicted expression. He had been privy to that information quite early on, having his access to some of the patient’s medical files; it wasn’t easy to miss the ‘warning: actively carrying - medication to be reviewed’ pop-up flashing across the registry, awaiting the acknowledgement from the other staff. 

Knock Out was so tired that day, that they just told him to go take a long, relaxing ride with Breakdown - away from the Nemesis.

Judging by the lack of surprise on Optimus's end, he must have already known the good news.

Looking at Soundwave, it was quite obvious the TIC knew of it too - and was doing his best to show his displeasure at the apparently insatiable sire.

However, looking back at the other Autobots, it was quite clear that their leader hadn't shared the good news, and Ratchet would have blasted Pharma's spike off if he tried to break patient confidentiality to tell them.

“You just had one come out from you, how did you manage to get sparked up again so quickly?” Jazz questioned in disbelief, staring at the warlord in both anger and wonder. Megatron shrugged, unconcerned.

"No idea, to be honest, we still haven't figured out precisely how I got sparked the first time around," he said, looking fondly at Silverlight basking in the heat coming from his chassis. He smirked, as he added in a theatrical whisper:

"But well… Optimus is rather enthusiastic…"

Elita broke the datapad in her servo. Prowl stopped typing at the console, as he turned to look in the direction of the training field.

Jazz stared at the warlord blankly, before he slowly turned his helm to look at the Prime, before he asked in a mild tone:

"Those practice sessions… Can anyone join in?"

The Decepticon leader grinned before he stretched his servo to the datapad at his side, powering it up. He passed it to the SIC after opening a schedule, where the sessions against his conjunx were planned out for the next few weeks.

"Just leave a few for Soundwave - we are finally seeing progress," he chuckled, amused at the furious expression as the mech started to add his name in.

"Write me in for a few, too," added Elita, throwing out the broken pieces of the pad she crushed moments before, and standing menacingly at the edge of the field where Optimus was by then venting hard, struggling to keep his hold of the data cables secure.

Both of the Autobot SICs had something to say about the irresponsibility of their leader - they would be heard, no matter if the Prime wanted it or not.

Until then, they would stand there, consumed by anger of being out of the loop.

The warlord shook his helm when his conjunx glanced towards his lieutenants and faltered, ending with getting sent flying out of bounds. His companion was lovely, but he needed to learn that Soundwave does not let even the tiniest mistakes go.

As he granted Optimus a break, coaxing him close to take a look at his injuries to assess if they already needed Ratchet's support, he indulged the other with a nuzzle to the helm, EM field filled with happiness. Their sparkling chirped joyfully, and the Prime smiled at them both in spite of the aches from the merciless sparring, looping his servo around the warlord to pull him closer and steal a quick kiss.

The other occupants of the base were used to those displays of affection, but some of them couldn't help rolling their eyes (or optics) at that - these two could be obnoxiously sappy.

Not discouraged in the slightest, Megatron held his sparkling in between them, leaning into the embrace, as his other servo rested over his spark; no doubt already thinking about the new addition to their lives. 

How lucky were they to be blessed by this so quickly after the first miracle?

Rung felt his own spark ache, looking at the happy couple in silence. 

He couldn't warn them. 

He couldn't prepare them for it. 

There was no possibility of this situation being changed in any way, and telling them about it now would only invite more questions and despair, as they realize they won't be able to change anything.

The psychiatrist braced himself for the future: one where the bright ball of light under the silver plating - nestled currently against its carrier in its innocence, soaking the love of their creators - had no chance to survive long enough to reach emergence.

*******************

@transingthoseformers I am following up on my promise to myself

[triscribeaucollection]

I Found My Victory When I Fell

For centuries, the ruins stayed quiet, empty. None of Cybertron’s lingering scavengers came to the small valley, the city it once housed. Nothing of any value to them remained, in the place once called Tyger Pax. Elsewhere, a few traces of life lingered on the planet, in sheltered, hidden places, eking out a meager existence with what little natural energon remained. And the war that brought Cybertron to such a standstill continued, amid the stars and across other, far flung worlds.

Until it ended.

“You robbed me of my voice - you will never, rob anyone, of anything again!”

A massive infusion, of a near-mythical substance, delivered straight to the enormous chamber suspended in Cybertron’s core. Severed connections were brought back together. Ancient equipment, restored to a pristine state. The faint remnants of a slumbering titan, nudged to awaken once more.

Reactors hummed back to life, and the first new energon in millennia began to flow down the dusty pipes - sluggishly, but then with greater speed, and growing brightness. Light spread from the gleaming liquid as it rushed to fill passages older than recorded history. One by one, the great channels overflowed, excess energon spilling into carefully placed tanks and aquifers, then into smaller conduits that spread their way throughout the entire planet, and eventually up towards the surface. Where the old paths were blocked or destroyed, the currents found cracks and holes to turn to instead, or else the pressure built, straining, until erupting into open air.

The few lifeforms that had remained for so long could only stare with astonishment, before leaping into the new pools and streams with delighted abandon.

And yet, their reactions remained a rarity, most of the planet still very much abandoned.

Aside from the dramatic resurgence of energon, the conflict’s conclusion meant little to Cybertron at large. Only a few tired souls returned in those early days, to begin rebuilding by hand, and they landed far from Tyger Pax’s ruins in the quiet valley. No great stirring of wind heralded the dawn of a new day; no passing ship or soaring Predacon graced the visible horizon. If anyone had yet survived in the shattered rubble, their one clue of something changing would be the sudden arrival of a new river: a great crack in the ground abruptly full of flowing energon, with meager crystal growths beginning to bloom along its banks.

Nothing else changed. Not even when a being of Darkness returned to the planet, eager to see it utterly destroyed. The massive, pitched battle took place elsewhere on Cybertron, and though it shook the ground and rattled the skies, none of its echoes could stretch far enough to disturb the stillness that continued to hold sway in Tyger Pax.

At least, not until an ending of a different sort.

“All I ask, my fellow Autobots, is that you keep fighting the noblest of fights.”

“You can count us to keep the peace.”

And a beginning, all its own.

A beginning, in the form of newsparks.

Large and small, massive and miniscule, blazing bits of life ranging through all the visible colors soared across Cybertron’s sky. And for each individual that leapt free from the Well, a dozen more instead entered the energon tunnels, to be carried along by flowing currents all throughout the planet. Brand new, fearless, and intensely curious, the delicate sparks surged towards anything that caught their attention.

Some headed for distant spires. Others delighted in the deep aquifers. More still sought out surface pools to splash across, or crystal-lined walls that reflected their pulsing light, or great wide open spaces that stretched out far beyond their limited sensory capabilities.

Each one, unique. Each, a new chance for life.

The sparks alone, by their nature, couldn’t last. Those that sought to explore too long gradually faded back into nothingness, or sped so fast they collided with too hard a surface and burst apart into mere motes, which also grew dark. But most- most of them, after a time, slowed down, to seek calmer, steadier places. They came down from the sky, or flitted up from the tunnels, or drifted into eddies at the edges of energon currents. Wherever they touched bare metal and mineral, the ground shifted, obliging. Each spark burrowed in, warming the area around them, and the nearest bits of material began to shift- change-

-transform.

At the newly formed river in the place once called Tyger Pax, several sparks settled along the energon banks, and crafted new homes for themselves. Some wished to return to moving quickly, and developed slender, lightweight frames. Others wanted defensibility, and built up extra layers of armor around their central components. There were those that desired flight, or to be able to swim, and each new lifeform that emerged from the hotspots immediately headed for their chosen purview.

Megatron watched them all.

[tachyon-omlette]

I will get to the Phantos and Eda interactions, I promise, but let me ask you in return; what does Eda think of Maelstrom, Viceglide, Posthaste and the crew?

Eda is somewhat wary of Maelstrom, and not entirely because she's a mnemosurgeon. She radiates her classic morbid curiosity often enough to set off Eda like a Geiger counter; she reminds him of Quintus, and not in a good way. Chances are that he'd take measures to avoid her whenever possible, which might only make her more curious, to his dismay. It's ironic, in this context, that his neck is one of the few weak points in his armor - but then again, it'd be near impossible to get that close.

Viceglide, in contrast, he can understand to some degree. Eda does not deal with or trust Cybertronians any more than he has to - and neither, it seems, does Viceglide. They are both odd sizes for the worlds in which they exist, albeit in opposite directions. They both know the allure of zealous scientists and have in their own turns succumbed to it. Eda does not particularly like him, but he might tolerate Viceglide to a higher degree than he does any other Cybertronian, even if Viceglide does not trust him.

Posthaste gives him hope. All newsparks do, no matter how many times that hope has been shattered before. Even at a distance - because I don't imagine his creators would let Eda get too close - he can tell how much Posthaste is loved. He is glad for it, but so too is he envious.

The other members of Phantos, to him, are simply more Cybertronians to deal with. Though he would not make overtures to gain their favor, neither would he reject any attempts at conversation - though as soon as anything remotely resembling you should join the Decepticons slips out, he's leaving.

[cityzenshark]

Random thought and question,

[thegerto]

The Transformers Headmasters Transformations:

-Golden/Epic Optimus Prime

-High Octane Bumblebee

-God Windblade

-Megatron X

-Full Charged/Torn Barricade