The First and Final

“I am sorry, oh wise and all powerful one.”

"It is not my place to set the path for a mortal," Primus remarked, turning one glowing optic towards the new arrival in his dreamscape, "... but I require no worship, nor have I ever."

The creator god shuttered his optic, and turned away. A rumbling echo, later revealed to be a thoughtful hmmm upon closer inspection, filled the empty space.

He added, a whisper as light as the brush of a butterfly's wing, "Especially this face of mine. It has served its purpose. To call upon it is akin to performing supplications before a hunk of rock. This face, ever so slowly, is dissipating. Even though I am denied the embrace of death, oblivion is not beyond my ken. If you truly desire to speak with a creator, seek out one of my other faces that still has purpose."

*gyrates a little faster*

Nope didn’t do it.

I find this situation difficult to parse. You are either telling me a deliberate fallacy in order to, quite literally, annoy me back into consciousness or...

Or you wish for a battle. Knowing what I do about you, I suspect the first, but the second is also probable.

I know you have heard this quite often, but you can be such a bothersome thorn.

If it would please you to do so, I am happy to indulge you with a moment of my time.

I wonder what would happen if I were to do a 'cool kickflip'? As the core of Cybertron, I can only imagine.... Alas, none of my many faces is awake to test this.

i can comment on your top-ness without it being an active booty grab frankly it’s refreshing, the other one was more of a… power bottom? really, really weird subby switch it’s like, oil cake versus creamed energon - one’s solid, warm, sturdy, gives no fucks and the other is cold and wibbly and might not actually exist in the present state that you’re trying to lick it in …….. that metaphor went in weird places

Bringing my brother into this is the worst possible thing you could have done.

I do not feel inclined to doing so. I am not my brother, who will consume anything without regard for the taste.

Time passed. The screams faded. For a fleeting moment, Arcee was left in peace as if nothing had happened. Just like the vision, there was a quiet before the storm. It was only a matter of time before the call grew to a crescendo once more, however. Arcee’s days of ‘normalcy’ were quickly drawing to an end.

It started simply enough, an unidentified object showing up on radar. It could have been anything: an ally ship that had forgotten to comm ahead, a scrap of space junk, the start of an asteroid field. The readings were strange, hard to interpret, but the course of the object’s travel quickly made it clear it was unlikely to be anything natural. It’s path was erratic and twisting (like something being steered), the readings much at least a little similar to a vessel of some sort.