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@  PlutoniumBoss : (14 December 2019 - 03:27 AM)

Wouldn't that just add packaging authenticity? :D

@  SHIELD Agent 47 : (14 December 2019 - 01:44 AM)

I read a anecdote of someone recently receiving a Glacialord with mold because apparently online stores' warehouses have been sitting on Fansproject products like that for years.

@  Rycochet : (13 December 2019 - 11:56 AM)

Unlike many of his peers, Morton diesn't seem to have gone out of his way to try and take every drug going so he's aged remarkably well.

@  Donocropolis : (13 December 2019 - 11:39 AM)

Doesn't seem to have been a market for it, which is too bad, because it perfectly does what it sets out to do.

@  Donocropolis : (13 December 2019 - 11:38 AM)

Just opened it and suddenly I'm 9 years old again.

@  Donocropolis : (13 December 2019 - 11:38 AM)

Bought myself Fansproject Glacialord for my birthday during their Black Friday sale.

@  Nevermore : (12 December 2019 - 07:45 PM)

Morten Harket of A-ha might have aged 35 years on the outside, but his voice is still pretty much the same as it was in 1984. That's some great training and exercise for you.

@  wonko the sane? : (12 December 2019 - 06:59 PM)

Depends entirely on how badly you cooked them. What?

@  TheMightyMol... : (12 December 2019 - 05:33 PM)

Can it raise the dead?

@  RichardT1977 : (12 December 2019 - 05:33 PM)

Cheddar can do just about anything.

@  RichardT1977 : (12 December 2019 - 05:32 PM)

Cream cheese has to be on a bagel or crackers.

@  RichardT1977 : (12 December 2019 - 05:31 PM)

(for example: I like Swiss cheese on sandwiches, but find it merely tolerable by itself)

@  RichardT1977 : (12 December 2019 - 05:30 PM)

I mean are you eating it by itself? With crackers? On a sandwich?

@  TheMightyMol... : (12 December 2019 - 04:48 PM)

I would ask, but I'd rather not know.

@  PlutoniumBoss : (12 December 2019 - 03:38 PM)

With my mouth, usually.

@  RichardT1977 : (12 December 2019 - 08:48 AM)

Depends on how you're eating it.

@  PlutoniumBoss : (12 December 2019 - 01:40 AM)

Havarti, without a doubt.

@  Greebtron : (12 December 2019 - 01:28 AM)

Not Don, thanks. I'd like a writer who actually cares enough to do the job properly

@  Benbot : (11 December 2019 - 09:34 PM)

What's your favorite cheese? I'm not sure, but it's hard to beat muenster.

@  Maximus Ambus : (11 December 2019 - 05:10 PM)

Man I wish IDW could do a season 2.5 with a few writers like Michael Charles Hill or Donald F Glut or Paul Davids involved.

@  TheMightyMol... : (11 December 2019 - 04:33 PM)

They were looking for Skids, but the animators forgot he existed again.

@  Maximus Ambus : (11 December 2019 - 02:58 PM)

He regrouped with Omega Supreme, the Dinobots, Skyfire and the Protectobots.

@  Benbot : (11 December 2019 - 08:20 AM)

Did he get infected with the rest of the Autobots or did he smartly remain off-planet?

@  TheMightyMol... : (11 December 2019 - 05:38 AM)

He really just went to the beach for a couple of days, then called it in. Who's gonna follow up on it?

@  Maximus Ambus : (11 December 2019 - 05:05 AM)

Anyone really believe Cosmos searched far enough for more ingredient for Corrostop?

@  Nevermore : (11 December 2019 - 03:48 AM)

Oh, we are pretty good at "forgetting" about that. Insisting on sending people home on their overtime, THEN suddenly rushing to do the "backlog" stuff when it's really overdue.

@  wonko the sane? : (10 December 2019 - 05:43 PM)

I've yet to find an organization which didn't have a backlog of "stuff" that needs to be done, but isn't important enough to put on the schedule proper.

@  TM2-Megatron : (10 December 2019 - 05:01 PM)

I'm sure most good/bad (depending on your POV) bosses would be able to find something for the worker to do, in most cases, even if it's spending 8 hours pretending to push a broom around

@  Tm_Silverclaw : (10 December 2019 - 04:39 PM)

Still better than American jobs. x.x;

@  NotVeryKnightly : (10 December 2019 - 11:10 AM)

I'm pretty sure you've already mentioned this before. Especially that last one.

@  Nevermore : (10 December 2019 - 11:05 AM)

That can be fun if you're strong-willed enough. "Hey, you want to go home? Overtime reduction, there's nothing to do..." - "Nah, not today. I want to work."

@  Nevermore : (10 December 2019 - 11:04 AM)

This applies to the field of work as well. Meaning, your boss orders you to show up for a full shift, you show up on time and are absolutely willing to work, and then your boss realizes he has no work for you, your boss has to pay you for a full shift even if you don't work at all.

@  Nevermore : (10 December 2019 - 11:03 AM)

Fun fact: German law has a concept named "default in acceptance", which postulates that if there is a "service for payment" contract, the party that should provide the service correctly offers their due service, and the party that should pay fails to accept the service within due time, the second party still has to pay the first party even if there was no service delivered.

@  wonko the sane? : (08 December 2019 - 10:54 PM)

If it's seasonal affective disorder, check with your doc about vitamin D supplements.

@  Maximus Ambus : (08 December 2019 - 12:46 PM)

That's what I was thinking too, It's the christmas rush and if that's not stressful enough the cold weather can also impact mental health.

@  wonko the sane? : (08 December 2019 - 12:41 PM)

Might be a stupid question given the comment, BUT: have you done anything outside the ordinary lately? Might just be a stress reaction.

@  Maximus Ambus : (08 December 2019 - 12:29 PM)

I've experienced sleep paralysis with ghostly images and similar things in the past and can snap out of it through moving my fingers. I've definitely hallucinated before and members of both sides of the family have had similar experience, some suffered forms of mental instability in two cases schizophrenia.

@  wonko the sane? : (08 December 2019 - 10:47 AM)

So... either a hallucination or night terrors. Are you prone to this kind of thing?

@  Maximus Ambus : (07 December 2019 - 11:55 PM)

It kept repeating until I sat up.

@  Maximus Ambus : (07 December 2019 - 11:54 PM)

I've been up since three and when sheepish I was hallucinating something knocking twice against my bedroom door.

@  TheMightyMol... : (07 December 2019 - 06:58 PM)

Then repaint Apeface and Snapdragon as Transmetal Optimus Primal and Megatron. It's crazy enough to work.

@  PlutoniumBoss : (07 December 2019 - 05:32 PM)

Moral imperative.

@  Nevermore : (07 December 2019 - 05:13 PM)

Wishful thinking, rumor or leak?

@  Maximus Ambus : (07 December 2019 - 04:48 PM)

Snapdragon for Earthrise.

@  TM2-Megatron : (04 December 2019 - 10:22 PM)

Still not the weirdest thing a Nic Cage character has done in a film

@  TheMightyMol... : (04 December 2019 - 04:00 PM)

Couldn't be worse than him pissing fire as Ghost Rider.

@  Rycochet : (04 December 2019 - 03:38 PM)

The Tim Burton Superman Movie is the DC movie we deserve. It would have Nic Cage in a technosuit punching polarbears.

@  Paladin : (04 December 2019 - 02:59 PM)

Wonder Woman was great. Shazam was amazing. Aquaman... exists.

@  RichardT1977 : (04 December 2019 - 01:54 PM)

TBF, Aquaman and Shazam! were pretty good.

@  TheMightyMol... : (04 December 2019 - 01:00 PM)

Not a difficult feat.


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Transformers Myths and Legends

Transformers Mythology

10 replies to this topic

#1 Tindalos

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Posted 16 March 2019 - 08:52 PM

An attempt at a slightly different creation myth for Transformers.

 

The Theomachina
As everything, the cosmos was created by the two.
Primus was creation manifest, their touch brought light to the void, where they walked energy took shape and became matter.
Unicron was destruction embodied, at whose sight the stars burned out, his breath withered matter into formless energy.
When they met, they recognised each other, for although opposites they were of one nature.
They were siblings, friends, rivals, enemies, and lovers. They joined together in a covenant, a great combination of battle, dance, and union, their essences joining together and achieving balance.
From them, the cosmos became new, where once was grey, there became shades of light and darkness. Some parts became more concentrated, forming worlds and stars, other parts became lesser, and formed the heavens to surround them.
To mark the place where they came together, Primus and Unicron created Cybertron, a world of living metal and energy, where the very ground was imprinted with life and death.

And on Cybertron they joined once again: creating new life, their children, the Thirteen.
At first they were still too separate, their creations were primal, unconstrained. Together they forged bodies out of the living metal beneath them, to encase and protect them.
Thus, Primus created Prima; and Unicron created Megatronus.
Prima was much like its creator, a spark of light within a silvery body. Its every action glorified creation, and where it walked, the world itself cried out in joy.
Megatronus was also like its creator, but unlike its sibling it was but an ember, a red fire within a dark iron shell. Metal rusted at its touch, and the world drew back afraid.
Prima and Megatronus saw each other, and like their parents before them, recognised each other as kin. Alone of all creation, Prima did not shy away from Megatronus, while it was the only one who did not avert its sight from Prima's dazzling brightness.

Primus and Unicron then tried again, this time learning from each other, blending creation and destruction a little more.
Primus' creation was named Nexus, for they were one in many bodies. While their siblings could only be in one place, they could separate, their body becoming legion to be where they were needed, and then return to being one with all they had learned.
Unicron had made Amalgamous, who was very much like their sibling. But while Nexus was one in many, Amalgamous was many in one. Their body would change from moment to moment, constantly reinventing themself. When they wished they would fly on wings, rotors, or jets; and when they wished to walk they could do so on legs, tracks, or wheels.
Nexus and Amalgamous saw each other, and found joy in their meeting. They shared what they could, and travelled together. Knowing that although different, they still possessed the same nature.

Having seen their children, Unicron and Primus understood each other better, and shared their natures further. From this they created Trion and Maximo.
Trion was a being of knowledge and logic. What he saw, he understood, and what he understood, he would teach to others. His first act when created was to name everything around him, knowing his parents and siblings even before they could introduce themselves.
Maximo was a being of imagination and potential. What he thought, he could believe, and what he spoke, he could make others know. When created, he proclaimed the greatest strengths and flaws of all around him, and spoke of how they could make everything better.
Trion and Maximo saw each other, and laughed. Here was something Trion could not understand or name; and here was something which was beyond Maximo's words. Together they sat, talking as stars formed and died, dreaming of what would come.

Again Unicron and Primus learned from this. They saw the knowledge and wisdom of their creations, and joined anew, creating a new generation.
Vector was Primus' newest child, who arose from the ground looking at the sky beyond. He was filled with wanderlust, to travel the length and breadth of the cosmos, to witness and to protect all that he could.
Onyx was Unicron's creation, who barely seemed to rise above the ground, for his body was nothing compared to what he could see with his mind, able to travel without moving. To see, unblinking, with sight beyond sight.
Vector and Onyx saw each other, although separated by vast distances, they still recognised their sibling. The shining knight welcomed the black dragon, and together they shared tales of what they had seen.

Understanding better the balance of their children's bodies, they now turned to their essences. They joined together to create two new children.
Quintus was a dreamer, who wanted to lead her siblings further. They could be more than what they were, the world could be better than it was. They could make things anew, until things would be perfect.
Micronus was small, but when he spoke all listened. He spoke of limits, knowing what should be done, or what shouldn't. He could help people surpass themselves, but all to often advised them to know themselves instead.
Quintus and Micronus saw each other, and were instant rivals. Quintus sought progress beyond reason, Micronus wanted understanding of oneself. Despite this, they knew they were partners, with Micronus holding Quintus back from excess, while she encouraged Micronus to go further.

Having perfected their children's mind and bodies, Primus and Unicron looked outward, towards Cybertron and the cosmos beyond.
Primus made Solus, who saw the world beneath her, and took it within her hand. She could take the living metal and turn it into new shapes. She saw her siblings, and instantly knew they were incomplete. She gifted them each in turn a great item that would complete them, granting them their true natures, beyond how they were made. She called these tools, clothing, shelter, and weapons.
Unicron made Alchemist, who felt the world beneath him, and stared at it deeply. He understood the matter and energy of the cosmos in a way that none of his siblings did. He saw his siblings, and instantly knew they were incomplete. He drew up the energy of the world, creating fuel, and shared it with them, filling them with life and joy. They laughed, despite not understanding his words.
Solus and Alchemist saw each other, and gifted each other with what they had. They shared their knowledge and created art, creation with the only purpose being to enrich the world, form without function.
Finally Primus and Unicron were spent. As they had joined together, they had become closer, and yet less potent. Their many children would guide the cosmos where they could not. But they would need one last gift from their parents.

Primus and Unicron joined together one last time in love and hate, and were no more.
In their place was someone new, someone beyond Unicron and Primus. They were the Thirteenth.
He was to lead them, with his nature one of perfect balance, creation and destruction in one. He showed them to form a society, how to use their gifts to aid the others, to create new life.
And he taught them how to grieve.
While he bore the gift of life from his parents, he also bore the gift of death. His body was not eternal like the cosmos, but as fragile and temporary as the stars and planets within. When he had taught them all he could, he passed on, his body returning to the metal of Cybertron.
Only his spark remained. And the Thirteenth's siblings all remembered him as best they could, in their own way.
Alchemist looked into the spark, seeking to understand its nature.
Solus shaped a new vessel, that it would not be damaged.
Micronus showed the spark how it could bond to others, to share its wisdom with them.
Quintus left, seeking to make new life in the Thirteenth's honour.
Onyx moved, the fires stirring inside him as he followed visions only he could see.
Vector stayed still, standing vigil over his spark for as long as he could.
Maximo told all of them that their grief would be over, for the Thirteenth would arise again.
Trion made sure the Thirteenth would never be forgotten and created the first record.
Amalgamous taught the others how to change their shape, sharing his gift with them.
Nexus tore himself to pieces, travelling to the far reaches to spread the Thirteenth's legend.
Megatronus, in its grief shared the Thirteenth's gift with the cosmos.
Prima held its sibling, and convinced it to stop.
And this ended the age of gods.
 


Edited by Tindalos, 17 April 2019 - 10:53 AM.


#2 Broadside

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Posted 16 March 2019 - 09:19 PM

This is an amazing piece that feels like it would really work as an in-universe belief. I think the chiastic structure really brings the mythic feel of the story together. Great stuff!

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#3 Tyranno

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Posted 16 March 2019 - 10:39 PM

I really like it! Very poignant and mythical!


"Disabled people donít have special needs. We have very reasonable human needs. Our needs include freedom from abuse, violence, and mistreatment, the right to autonomy and self-direction, the right to represent ourselves, equal opportunity for education and employment, the right to accommodation, and societal inclusion and acceptance.

The need for accommodation isnít a ďspecial needĒ. Itís a basic human right. Itís a leveling of the playing field that allows us the same opportunities and chances as non-disabled people."


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#4 Tindalos

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Posted 17 April 2019 - 10:55 AM

And a pair of new myths:

 

Xal and the Beast

In the time before the age of gold, Xal the wanderer was among the greatest of heroes, the greatest of all cybertronians. He walked above the surface of Cybertron, his feet never touching the ground as the sun itself acted as his footstool, only the fringes of his robe brushed behind him, marking his passage.
Everyone who saw Xal could understand his greatness, and asked him to be their teacher. Xal accepted, for he understood the people needed to know what he knew, and for a time he paused in his travels.
After ten thousand years, he yearned to once again explore, to travel the cosmos and see what there was to see.
The people feared the loss of Xal, and begged him to stay, forging a great crown of rare alloys to acclaim him their king.
Xal was honoured, and understanding what his absence might do to them, he relented. He wore their crown and rested on a throne they made for him, and ruled fairly.
But after a hundred thousand years, Xal once again saw the stars among the heavens and longed to join them.
Having been ruled by Xal for so long, the people were terrified of being without him, and prostrated themselves before him, offering him gifts of energon as worship, to place him amongst the gods.
Xal could not refuse the hospitality of his people, and drank the energon. He saw how much they needed him, and he accepted their worship, becoming one of the gods.
But after a thousand thousand years had been and gone, Xal once again became restless.
Everyone feared his leaving, but after proclaiming him teacher, king, and god, there was nothing more they could do. Until one of them went into the badlands, and found a beast living there.
Terrified of the beast, they returned, and went to find Xal.
Xal had almost left, his robe having left the metal beneath him and ascended into the sky as all about him the people mourned. When he heard the shout of fear, rather than sorrow, he turned to see the bot standing there.
"What has driven the fear into you, that you do not mourn like the others?"
The bot knelt before him, and spoke: "I have seen a great beast, in the badlands, whose body is like ours, but instead of a single head, it has five, instead of two arms it has ten, and instead of two legs, it has ten."
At the sound of this, the other people drew back in fright. But Xal nodded, recognising it.
He paused in his exodus, travelling to the badlands where he found the beast. The monster attacked him, out of rage and terror.
Xal drew his sword, and with a single cut, he turned the beast into five.
The beasts looked at each other, and became bots. They knew themselves, and Xal smiled. "You are my successors, those who will rule in my place, who will teach in my place. You shall lead the people when I am gone."
The five understood, and when Xal left, they went among the people, and taught them of civilization. They became the founders of the golden age, the first mortals to rule, and they proclaimed Xal's name above all others.
It has been over a thousand thousand thousand years since the age of Xal, but we still remember him, and five who were one, who united Cybertron.

 

 

 

The Archon's Fall

After the golden age, the unity which had once come to Cybertron had been destroyed.
Cities warred, alt-modes were made into instruments of death, and peace itself had become forgotten.
In this age, a great and terrible warlord emerged. They called the land of Kaon home, and cared not for the cold, as the fire of domination burned within them.
Under their hand, Kaon became the heart of a new empire, as the warlord led the kaonites forth to conquer the lands nearby.
City after city fell to their might, from Tarn to Protihex, until other warriors and barbarians sought to join this new empire, declaring the warlord their archon. They turned on the last free cities, and put them to the sword and blaster until Cybertron had become one in this new imperial age.
It seemed that peace had returned to Cybertron, although the age was one of iron and death, of smelting pools and gladiatorial combat. But still peace had returned.
To celebrate their greatness, the archon built a palace atop the Hydrax Plateau, so that they may gaze down upon the world they had conquered.
But the archon was not satisfied. Certainly all of Cybertron was now their domain, but they stared upwards at the stars themselves and were jealous. They threatened war against the very gods themselves.
The gods looked down at this warlord turned archon, and were afraid. The archon could very well topple the gods and reduce them to being slaves. And so they sent a circuitmaster, the last who still listened to their voice instead of the archon's and told him what to say.
The circuitmaster approached the archon as if they were a slave on hands and knees, telling them they had heard a prophecy, that the gods had foreseen the archon's fate. They would fall, and it was by their name that they would be destroyed.
The archon was amused by this prophecy, and sentenced the circuitmaster to the smelting pools as a mercy. But the prophecy stayed there, lurking in the shadows wherever they looked.
No matter how the archon tried to forget about it, they could feel their doom approaching, and so they declared that if their name would destroy them, then they would first destroy their name!
All the monuments Cybertron had raised in the archon's name were torn down, the smelting pools worked day and night to render them into formless ingots.
The temples they built for their coming ascension were shattered, the devotions that were sung were forgotten.
And still the doom drew closer.
The archon realised that although they had destroyed their name wherever it was written, they were known by one and all of their followers and slaves.
Fearing that their doom was hidden amongst the populace, the archon sent out their armies, purging and slaying all that they could, until the fires of the pools went out, and the bodies lay rusting in the streets.
And the doom still approached.
Setting their army on one another in the arenas, the archon watched as the spilled oil and energon became a sea, rising up to meet their palace.
The archon's advisors and bodyguards were thrown from the palace into the ocean, to rust and perish, until the archon was at last alone.

The archon crowed and laughed, proclaiming they had defeated the gods themselves, that the doom could not find them as there were none who now knew who they were.
And the spark of the circuitmaster arose from the sea of energon, and declared that their doom had come.
And the archon looked around their empty palace, their cities now swallowed by a great sea of rust, and realised that they had destroyed their own empire, their own legacy. Now no one existed to remember their name.
Indeed, not even the archon remembered it, for it had been years since they had heard it spoken.
Now they remained, alone in their ruined home, knowing that they could not defeat the gods. They were no longer an archon, and now could only count themselves amongst the Fallen.



#5 SoS

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Posted 18 April 2019 - 09:12 PM

These are amazing, Tindalos. I absolutely love it and almost wish I hadn't read it because I want to add it to my fanon.

 

 

--SoS



#6 Tindalos

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Posted 22 April 2019 - 06:46 AM

These are amazing, Tindalos. I absolutely love it and almost wish I hadn't read it because I want to add it to my fanon.

 

 

--SoS

 

Thank you!

 

The Gift of Energoa

When the gods first created Cybertron, the world was dead and barren, a cold metal sphere in the heavens. From it they attempted to create life, shaping the metal into forms like themselves.
At first this seemed a success: their creations walked and spoke and thought. But they were like dolls, only doing what they did because the gods commanded it; not because of their own wishes, for they had none.
The gods despaired, as for all their brilliance they could not create life as they wanted. The ancient cybertronians sang their praises, but did not truly know their gods for they had nothing but wires and oil inside.
One of the gods was known as Energoa, among her fellows she felt the absence of life most strongly, for she was as full of energy as the cybertronians were empty of it. She wept until her tears made a pool upon the ground.
Alone on Cybertron's surface this pool shone, the metal grew warm around it, and crystals arose from the pool of tears.
Energoa realised that unlike the dead world or unfeeling automatons they had created, the gods contained within themselves the power of true life. Instead of oil they instead had luminescent ichor flowing through them, enough that her tears could bring life.
She immediately sought out one of the cybertronians and brought them to the pool of tears, bathing them in it. But although their body warmed and changed colour, there was still no life within it.
Sorrow filled Energoa, until she realised that if it was their ichor that brought the gods life, she would share it with the cybertronians.
She made herself a blade, and used it to cut into her chassis, until her ichor spilled upon the cybertronian.
They stared at Energoa, truly seeing her for the first time as their body grew and changed, taking on a new form. It ran, it leapt, it flew as it realised the gift she had given it.
Energoa held the first cybertronian close in an embrace, and then they left together to seek out the others.
The gods had abandoned their dolls, returning to their city of crystal, and so they did not see Energoa sharing her ichor with the others. Instead they knew nothing until they heard the sounds of laughter, of joy and happiness, and saw the new colours shining from the planet.
They stepped down and their wonderment at what they saw faltered when they realised where the new life had come from. The gods rushed to their sister, whose ichor now ran freely, spreading across the planet which had now become golden from the life filling it. Where the blood pooled, crystals grew, sparkling with life.
But although they feared for her life, Energoa was not harmed. In fact the more ichor flowed from her, the stronger she grew. She smiled at her kin and laughed.
"I am life itself, and shall only get stronger the more there is." She reassured them, and they knew it was true.
Energoa looked out across the heavens, and realised that every point of light out there was a new land, a new home. She turned to her fellows, both gods and cybertronians and proclaimed "I am life itself, and cannot be contained. I will go, and spread my gift to the universe. Wherever you go, you shall find my ichor and life waiting for you." And all of them knew it was true.
As much as they would miss her, they knew she had her destiny.
After she left, Cybertron was no longer as bright, but still shone proudly. Energoa's ichor had seeped into the very core of Cybertron, becoming a sea of life to nourish the planet.
Cybertronians of all kinds gathered the crystals of Energoa's ichor. They found that as well as acting as fuel and granting life, they could use it to make tools, much as Energoa had made the first blade. With her solid ichor they build civilization, achieve new heights, and follow her path throughout the stars. In her honour, they named the ichor Energon, and so it has remained, even as many forgot the goddess who gave them life.



#7 Tindalos

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Posted 04 May 2019 - 09:50 PM

The Twins

When Cybertron was first forged amongst the heavens, it was a featureless orb of pure metal. It neither shone, nor absorbed, it was neither dull nor bright. It had neither low valleys, nor high mountains, just a single metal shell.
But the world itself wanted more. It longed, and in that longing produced Sentius Nobilius, the sacred desire. This first god travelled Cybertron, shaping it as he passed.
Where he walked, his footsteps cracked the shell, creating canyons and valleys. He used his hands to shape mountains to scrape the skies themselves. He wept and laughed, and his tears filled oceans and his joy sparked thermal vents.
He wandered across the surface until not a bit of it remained unchanged, until all knew itself different from the rest.

At last, he rested, raising a great plateau to be his seat, obliterating what had been before to create something new as was necessary, and he looked out across the world.
It was full of life, everything had changed, becoming new where once there was only stasis.
But as he watched, it remained as it was. The mountains grew silent, the plasma vents cooled, the oceans stilled. And Sentius Nobilius realised that the world had only changed because he willed it. That nothing would happen without his whim, and so if he rested, nothing new would be created.
He wept, for there could be nothing new without him, but there would be no one to enjoy it.
This could not be so, he declared, and he took the soil from the ground, holding it between his hands until it became bright and hot, until he held a star between his fingers.
He reached down, thrusting it into the metal of Cybertron, until it reached the core and ignited.
The planet shone, new light filling it, until new figures arose from the surface. They gathered before their creator and stared.
Sentius Nobilius took them and showed them the world, he gave them each the tools to maintain it. As he felt the sacred desire, so too did he share it with the others.
He assigned each of his children a part of the world to shape as was their will, to create anew what had been created, to ensure the world would never be still.


But when he had done so, and sat down to rest once more, he found a newborn standing in front of him. The last to be created.
Sentius Nobilius felt sorrow rising within him, for the world had already been apportioned out, and there was nothing left for this new cybertronian to shape. But as he reached to comfort the newborn, he felt something pierce his spark.
He laughed as he recognised the newborn, who had found the last unchanging part of the old creation, the last piece of stasis which remained.
The shaper unravelled, as his child split him in two, and now there was Sentius Magnus, and Sentius Malus. The longing for light, and the longing for darkness. The two of them embraced their son and father. Now entirely remade, and declared this should be the way of all things.
What one made, the other destroyed. What one broke, the other remade. Nothing would remain unchanged, and nothing would ever be the same.
The two brothers are life and death, light and dark, happiness and sorrow. They fill all of us, and thanks to them we shall never be still, and always be made anew.


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#8 Tindalos

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Posted 20 August 2019 - 02:09 AM

The Shadow of Creation

 

In the beginning, before creation was even a thought, there was only Primus.
He stood alone in the cosmos, a lone being of perfect light, who illuminated the entirety of the nothingness, proving himself to be the singular being.
And he was pleased with this.
Time was not even a possibility in this unchanging cosmos, so it is impossible to say how long passed before something appeared to ruin Primus' satisfaction, as he sensed something that was not him.
His shadow had appeared, a contradiction in all that existed, a flaw in the cosmos. Primus was not pleased.
He commanded his shadow to approach, to step forward to be illuminated, acknowledged, and made part of him -- for Primus could accept nothing else.
The shadow refused, saying that Primus would not be pleased with the outcome.
Primus was not pleased by this, and acted. He tore his shadow from where it lay hidden, bringing it out to face him. And then realised his mistake.
The shadow was now free, no longer trapped behind Primus and now bathed in his light. He was now more powerful, because Primus had acknowledged him, and that he was no longer alone. And so the Shadow ensured that he would never be alone again.
The shadow broke Primus across his knee, making him crumple into a ball. It tore off Primus' wings and bound them to the heavens as the sky, and then it pulled Primus' ever-burning reactor from his chest, and set it into the sky as Hadean.
Primus' oil welled up from the wounds, becoming seas; his bones stretched from his metal body, rising to become the mountains; until only his voice was left, the primal scream of creation echoing from the canyons formed where he had curled up. He was no longer Primus, but a planet. The shadow named Primus' new form Cybertron, and set about populating it.
Primus' spark was now ebbing, and weak. But the shadow knew that if left alone, it would grow stronger and Primus would once again be one. And so it took the stars from the sky and forged them into a sword, and used it to carve up Primus' spark into a thousand pieces and planted them into Cybertron's surface.
These fragments tore metal free from Cybertron, shaping them into new bodies for themselves, and were many where before there had only been one. They were beings who were less bright, and could understand one another, and build a civilization.
But Primus' spark had given life to them, and deep inside them all, they knew they were incomplete. To the shadow's horror, these new people sought to once again be one. They united together, preparing to commit mass suicide to be one again in death.
And the shadow knew what it must do. Just as he had carved up Primus' spark, it carved up the people, dividing them into factions. It set them against each other, so that they would never know peace, and never know unity. They competed, they warred, they were rivals.
Through this grew something greater, in knowing they were separate, the people knew of others as individuals rather than parts of themselves. They became friends, they fell in love, they created knew life. These things would not be possible without the shadow.
Yet they still could not love it. Its nature was still the opposite of theirs. And so despite all it had done, they chased it away, and called it the Destroyer, the Cutter of the One. They named it Unicron, and gave it a nature.
And in so doing, they had done what Primus could not. They had given Unicron a place.
Despite being cast out, despite everything that has been done to deny him. Some of us still remember Unicron's actions were done not to destroy us, but to let us exist. And that is why some of us will be his acolytes, and remember him always.



#9 Tindalos

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Posted 21 August 2019 - 12:08 PM

Nitronus' Last Race

 

Back in the depths of Velocitron's past, there was a racer like no other.
Nitronus was a bot who lived for speed: his wheels were the fastest, his bodywork was as smooth as glass, he was aerodynamic and graceful, his engine burned for racing -- and he had never lost a race in his life.
But his pride grew too much. He became acclaimed champion before his first Stellar Cycle had been completed, and revelled in it.
He became assured of his success, racing anyone and everyone he could. He accepted the most extreme of handicaps to feed his desire for victory. He once raced with only a single wheel, and won without question. He raced while carrying a full tanker of energon, and still lapped his opponent.
In the end he found he had raced against every bot on the entire planet, and still could not find someone who offered him a challenge.
Nitronus would not be satisfied merely being the best on Velocitron, he swore to outspeed everything: He raced the dawn, finishing before the sun had left the horizon. He raced a storm, dancing between the lightning as it raged in futile jealousy.
But still nothing could match him.

Proclaiming himself Champion of the Universe, Nitronus challenged the heavens themselves, bellowing into the night sky.
And a single bot approached him.
Nitronus could barely believe it, the bot was the mirror of him, but its armour plating was as black as night -- drinking in the darkness, blue spreading across his surface where red shone on Nitronus. "Who are you to challenge me?" Nitronus said, wondering why this bot had not shown himself before now. Why he had never before been sighted at Nitronus' races.
"I am the one you cannot outrace," the stranger said firmly, a knowing smile on their face.
Nitronus was enraged by this, "Am I not the fastest bot, am I not the most agile? Have I not beaten the sun itself?" The crowd around them cheered for their champion, acclaiming his deeds.
"You are all those things and more," the stranger said, "and that is why I am here at last."
"Then name your race, and I shall beat you in it." Nitronus said firmly, planning how he might humiliate this challenger -- this impostor who wore his form.
"There is only one race I know, and it is simply this. We race until one of us gives in. When they have had enough, they shall surrender, and the others will know the other to be the victor."
Nitronus could not hide his glee. He had raced for solar cycles, even as other racers had dropped out exhausted. He knew he could beat anyone in a contest of endurance. He extended his hand, only to find the stranger rebuff it. "I cannot, not until the race is over."
This insult would be unbearable to any bot, but Nitronus swallowed his pride -- proving he could do the impossible there as well -- and went to the starting line.
The stranger went and accepted a space behind him, granting Nitronus the advantage -- another grave insult -- and they both waited until dawn.

When the sun finally showed above the horizon, Nitronus set off.
He sped across the roads as they warmed in the new light of day, secure in the knowledge that he was unbeatable. And then he looked behind him.
The stranger was following him, matching him pace for pace. Never slowing, ever speeding up.
After a solar cycle, Nitronus left the roads behind, racing across the open desert. He leapt cracks and canyons, dodged outcroppings of rocks, and drove along dry river beds.
And when he looked behind him, he saw the stranger following.
Nitronus left the desert behind, heading across the seas. Forced to swim in robot mode -- he was still unbeatable, swimming so fast the waves seemed still to him.
And yet the stranger was never far behind.
Even when Nitronus reached the starting point, the crowds cheering for him yet again, the stranger was hot on his tail.
"You can give up whenever you want!" Nitronus called back to him, but the stranger said nothing.
Nitronus kept going, racing around the planet over and over. And the distance between the stranger and himself never increased or decreased by a micrometer. Even when the crowds grew bored, the race never stopped.

Eventually Nitronus could tell his body was weakening. His wheels grew hot and fragile, his engine was spluttering with every lap. Every corner threatened to send him crashing. But still he could see the stranger behind him, and his pride would not allow him to give in, or even give less than his best effort.
And so they raced on, until finally Nitronus could race no more.
His body gave out, even as his spark burned for more. His wheels melted into useless sludge on the track, his frame hissed and bent out of shape. And at last the stranger slowed.
Mortilus shifted, changing from his alt-mode as he approached Nitronus' body. He at last touched him, his hand reaching inside, and plucking the spark from his corpse.

Nitronus had never lost a race in his life. But he at last did so in death.
And his spark sits in Mortilus' trophy case -- the greatest racer who ever died.



#10 Tindalos

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Posted 24 August 2019 - 07:54 PM

Solus and Caminus

 

Solus was the first born of the titan Caminus, born from the living metal at the titan's core.
She watched as her siblings arose to follow her -- ones whose names have become forgotten by the long aeons -- and set up exploring their home.
Caminus stretched wide beneath the sun, his sanctuary form provided Solus and her kin with flowing energy, places to rest and love, chambers to compete and struggle, and libraries to study and learn.
Her siblings loved their home -- their creator -- and wanted for nothing. At first Solus was like them, happy to watch her kin enjoy the delights of their father.
But she noticed the lights were always the same, the energon's taste never changed, and that wherever she went there was always a wall to greet her.

She went deep into Caminus' body, to speak with him at his spark, father to daughter:
"I have travelled everywhere I can. There is not one place in you that I do not know of. Where else can I go?"
Caminus spoke back, "Nowhere, for outside me there is nothing but hardship. You have explored, but there is still much to do. Return to your kin and enjoy yourselves."
And Solus did as her father asked. She returned to join with them, reading and dancing, singing and duelling. She did everything she could until she became bored. No new information would be found in Caminus databanks. No new strategies would be created by the Warrior. No new stories could be told by the Scholar. Even the Dreamer's hopes had become old and familiar.

Solus returned to her father.
"I have done everything I can. I have enjoyed every delight there is with my siblings. What else can I do?"
Caminus spoke back, "Nothing, because there is nothing that has not already been done here. Instead you should return to your kin and find solace with them."
And Solus did as her father asked. She returned to her family and enjoyed their company. She laughed with them, she hated them, she loved them. But they were all familiar, and no matter how furious her fury -- it ebbed within aeons. No matter how close her friendships, they were easily broken off.

Solus returned to her father.
"I have been with my kin. I have shared their every experience. I know them too well. Who else is there?"
Caminus spoke back, "No-one, as there is only you, me, and your siblings. Be content with us, and return to your family."
She almost did so. Caminus had been there before her, and she had always assumed he knew best. But one question still remained.
"Why?" she asked.
"Why what?" Caminus said, his voice echoing with surprise.
"Why is there nowhere beyond your walls. Why is there nothing to do than what you have prepared. Why is there no-one else but who you have made?"
"Because you are not ready." Came the reply.
And Solus was satisfied. She returned to her kin, seeking enjoyment in the knowledge that some day there would be more to experience.

The aeons went by. Solus grew concerned. By now even her siblings had tired of what there was to do in Caminus, and were asking her the questions she had herself sought answers to.
She returned to Caminus and asked, "Are we ready?"
"No."
Was all Caminus said.
Solus explained this to her siblings, who accepted this. But by now the answer had twisted itself inside her, gnawing in her spark. When would they be ready? Would they ever be?
And as her siblings went into their diversions, she began to plan.

"If there is nowhere else to go, I shall find the way to more." She whispered, heading into Caminus' fuel pump, drawing off his sacred energon to make a torch.
"If there is nothing else to do, I shall create something new." She said, combining forgotten diversions into new and useful tools.
"If there is no-one else to speak to, I shall make more," She laughed, collecting the living metal from Caminus' core, and shaping it into followers.
She took her new children, assigning them with her kin to study and learn, while she went to confront her father one last time.

"What have you done?" He asked, and for a moment Solus doubted herself.
But she stepped forward, holding the light above her to show Caminus her will. "I am Solus, I am the firstborn. No matter what you say, I will not listen any more. It is not for you to decide what my people's limits are. I say to you: I am ready."
"Yes."
Said Caminus, and broke apart.
His walls crumbled, revealing the empty universe.
His lights faded, until there was only darkness.
His spark ebbed, until there was nothing but Solus and her kin.
And Solus held her torch aloft, illuminating the sky of stars. "My kin, let us go out into the world of our father. Let us know no more restriction. Let us make new things where once there was only old." She lead her people through the darkness, lit only by her torch until they came upon a place of cold and sorrow.
Here they rested, and Solus declared that this would be their new home. She led them to build new walls, to shape new buildings. She set the torch above them to provide light, and used its heat to warm the metal to life, bringing new children into the world.
And Caminus was reborn as their new home.



#11 Tindalos

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Posted 24 October 2019 - 07:56 PM

The Thirteen and the Lord of Demons

 

When the age of gods was near its height, the cybertronians wanted for nothing. The thirteen walked among them, sharing life and joy, and nothing was impossible.

But not everything that took place was joyous, for as great and wondrous were the gods, so there were others, jealous of them and of the cybertronians who worshipped them.
These were the demons, children of Tornedron who was kin to Unicron and Primus, and so the demons were kin to the thirteen. The demons saw the sparks of the cybertronians and fed on them, devouring life and creating sickness, drinking in the light and fire.
The cybertronians were unknowing of the hunger of the demons, for it was alien to them. They merely knew that as the demons amongst them grew, they lessened, growing colder and less lively.
At this the thirteen rose to defend their children, going amongst the demons and frightening them away with their power.

The demons retreated to their cold home, and sang to their parent, who awoke and saw their fear. Tornedron uncurled from the star they rested in, drinking deep its light until the star turned black. They flowed from one world to the next, leaving shadows in his wake as their children danced after him. And at last they arrived on Cybertron, standing before their kin.

Tornedron sang of battle, of violence, of ten thousand dooms they would unleash upon the thirteen for their crimes against its children, who mocked and jeered.
And the thirteen knew what must be done, and stepped forward to do battle.

Prima began the fight, its shining armour reflecting the dark light of Tornedron, its sword casting shadows to drive away their children who fled.
But Tornedron drank deep, the light of Prima filling them, strengthening them, like engex does to an empty. Tornedron even shared the light of Prima with its kin, the demons who grew as tall as the thirteen and clothed in armour of light.
And so Prima was defeated.

Trion stepped forth next, and named Tornedron, commanding him to step back, to trouble the cybertronians and the thirteen no longer and to return to their abode. The stars turned as Trion spoke the thousand names and titles of Tornedron, binding and chaining them with his words.
But Tornedron shrugged off the chains and bindings, for their last name was hidden beyond the reach of god or mortal, hidden deep within their heart.
And so Trion was defeated.

Onyx rose up, his horns scraping the heavens as he moved towards Tornedron, to drink deep of them and their flames, his form monstrous and terrible.
But Tornedron was worse than anything that may have been or ever would, they held Onyx between their fangs, and sang of horrors that awaited beyond, both twisting as planets died.
And so Onyx was defeated.

The Thirteenth stepped forward, accompanied by a host of cybertronians who knew they faced doom, even if they could not see Tornedron's nature. They armed themselves with sword and blaster, and tried to face down the abomination.
But Tornedron was not a being of matter, and sword passed through him, while blaster fed him even more.
And so the Thirteenth was defeated.

Solus had been labouring within her forge, and emerged clad in the bones of her parents, and armed with their souls. She knew that Tornedron was their kin, and used their strength to pin them to the ground.
But Tornedron's children were as nothing to it, while Unicron and Primus had given too much of themselves to the Thirteen, she could pin him, but no more.
And so Solus was defeated.

Micronus was beneath Tornedron's notice, even the demons took him for nothingness. But he opened his spark within Tornedron, hoping to feed them until they could stand no more.
But Tornedron's hunger was eternity itself.
And so Micronus was defeated.

Megatronus approached Tornedron, the world blackening with its steps. He touched Tornedron and for a moment the world ended and there was nothing.
But Tornedron was a god, and death was nothing to them. They stepped back, and the world was once more, but nothing would ever live again in the place they once stood.
And so Megatronus was defeated.

Quintessa created a host of warriors, devoid of spark and knowing only war. They marched forward to her song, and tried to tear Tornedron to pieces.
But Tornedron filled their empty shells with life, and they left Quintessa as she wept.
And so Quintessa was defeated.

Nexus divided himself, to strike where Tornedron could not see, his many parts a legion that would never be outnumbered.
But Tornedron remembered that nothing was impossible, and divided himself into many, outnumbering the numberless horde.
And so Nexus was defeated.

Alchemist had distilled creation and destruction into energon itself, and shared it as a gift with Tornedron, knowing the demons' thirsts. Tornedron could not resist the gift, and accepted it willingly.
But Tornedron drank until there was no more, mixing both together until there was no difference, and so survived.
And so Alchemist was defeated.

Amalgamous turned into countless shapes, hoping to confuse and outmatch Tornedron, who turned into each shape in turn.
But Tornedron and Amalgamous turned into so many shapes that none could say which was god and which was demon.
And so Amalgamous was defeated.

Vector held Tornedron between his arms, taking them the length and breadth of the cosmos, from the birth of the old gods, to the death of the final ones, hoping that Tornedron would be lost and never find their way back.
But Tornedron had tasted too much the sweetness of Cybertron, and returned to the battle.
And so Vector was defeated.

And last stood alone Maximus. Who was helpless before Tornedron, and surrendered.
But Tornedron was proud, and would not accept this forfeit, they commanded Maximus stand up and fight.
And so Maximus laughed, and said he was tired of words, and instead offered Tornedron to sit and talk with him. And Tornedron considered this, and did so.

And they spoke, as stars lived and died, sitting there as rust piled high around them and the demons who sat enraptured. Until Tornedron realised he was now beneath Cybertron itself, the planet itself a prison.
It turned to Maximus, who laughed, and revealed that Prima had revealed Tornedron could be illuminated, while Trion had shown that there was always something more to them.
Onyx had revealed that Tornedron was beyond the infinite, while the Thirteenth had shown it had no substance.
Solus had revealed that Tornedron was greater than even the gods, and Micronus showed that is hunger had no end.
Megatronus had revealed that even destroyed it still existed, while Quintessa showed how it could bring new life.
Nexus revealed Tornedron was numberless, while Alchemist showed it could make new things from old.
Amalgamous revealed that Tornedron was familiar as well as strange, and Vector had shown they were always with the thirteen.
Maximus revealed Tornedrons nature to it, and showed that it was the demon of the unknown. That for as long as it was not understood it was all powerful. And that now Maximus understood it, Tornedron could not escape.
As the demon raged, Maximus left, sealing the way behind him.
And so, as long as Tornedron is remembered, and understood, he and his demons will remain sealed. Never to trouble us again.





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