#aslogicdictates

@as-logic-dictates 

That is not how facts operate.

After some extensive dream tourism and a few light moments of contact with other entities of varying degrees of mortality, Anarkhos had found something truly unique at last. He’d found the between. 

If it had another, better name, he was unaware of it. It was a realm somewhere out of space and time, not quite a dream but still removed enough for him to slide his influence through, even in his weakened state. The place existed as a paradox, and though he could sense there were laws governing the rules of this realm, they were contradictory and tenuous. It left him fascinated and inspired, and such an emotion is no small fear to provoke in the heart of a muse. 

He was still far too pitiful, far too dead to do anything to this place, but if he was able to amass power, he could pull at the proverbial walls of this between, perhaps. Do a little bit of renovation. It was two steps away from a chaotic nightmare of physics, which would be a place much, much more appealing to set up residence in than the blasted ruins of the city he’d once called home. There was one small problem. 

Someone else, apparently, lived here.

He couldn’t bring himself to full physical form here, but he had enough within him to draw up something that was at least visible. Without preamble, he appeared, regarding the rather sad spectacle of the bound god before him with that single, unblinking eye, while the blades that surrounded it spun slowly, thoughtfully. 

Even if their circulatory systems were conjoined, the amount of high grade required to intoxicate a being of that mass would be… excessive.

Whirl perked up upon receiving the comm. “Oh, Well, send mine right back, I guess,” he commed. What an outrageously formal thing to say to someone--outrageously formal, but not at all out of character for the Predacons’ self-appointed king. Whirl was amused, and a little curious. Watching the documentaries had taught him a lot about Predaking’s origins. He couldn’t help but wonder if the other mech’s somewhat grand way of speaking was a conscious effort to distance himself from the perceptions that his creators had shared: that he was nothing more than a dumb beast. 

A question for another day, or perhaps no day. Whirl didn’t suppose he was likely to get an answer. 

If logic factored into newspark rumors, we wouldn’t have newspark rumors.

garnetarmstrong said: Newsparks Say the Darnest Things, coming this Summer

Too starstruck to recall that I am capable of revealing myself, it seems.