re_alignment | [Broadcasting from the tallest peak he can find in the junk pile.]

[Someone has been through this before. Someone knows this drill. Someone has worked very, very hard to finally make it back to his Cybertron, only to find it all wrong. Again.

Someone probably has destroyed a few piles of junk in their anger.

However, someone also has paid attention to the communications on the network, and has ventured to the 'temples' that were mentioned, and has found them locked against him.

This someone is not surprised.]

Listen closely, and listen well.

[It is time to act. The feed opens with a closeup on Megatron's faceplates, optics blazing red, the scant remnants of gladiator paint still burned onto the metal.]

This is not where we belong, and I am done with this.

I am done with waking up to see an unfamiliar sun obscuring all-too-familiar stars. I am done with strangers being cast from world to world. I am done with mechs-who-would-be-gods so graciously patronizing us by allowing us to remain while simultaneously enforcing unethical segregation and I am done, finally, with the thwarting of destinies that I and my allies have slaved, toiled, and died to create.

You can listen to those who make the rules here if you desire to. I have heard a song like theirs, before.

Or.

[He flashes, briefly, a datapad that seems to have some sort of schematic on it--a schematic that looks (to those who are familiar with them) like a complicated space bridge.]

If you are 'done' as I am, you can help me.

I am Megatron, and I will deliver anyone that joins me to their rightful homes.

[A single, pointed tooth is visible in the smirk that finally dawns on his face. His interdimensional portal had only worked, once, but with the right mechs he would see it to completion again. Immediately.]

I guarantee it.

~~~~~

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[...]

Prime, you read too much.

[Still, that is helpful to know. It explained more of what the Firstforged were about, which he'd been particularly confused on.]

Why does that matter? [Seriously, what is everyone's obsession with these marks?] If I have failed to be branded by some classification system, then that is hardly anything new.

Hardly. [He thinks he doesn't read enough.]

...But it may matter very much.

[But how much to tell? He still wants to avoid causing a panic without knowing more, and Megatron isn't exactly secretive with certain details...nor are they stated allies once more.]

Usually, everyone who arrives here has a marked glyph - the mark of one of the Firstforged.

[He tilts enough to show the white glow of the mark of Prima on his arm.]

It is rather crude, but is in reality little worse than our own faction marks. They supposedly give you the protection of that firstforged, as well as grant you access to that specific Firstforged's temple and resources, though most simply come and go as they please. As of yet, the marks have caused nothing more negative than a little 'cosmetic harm'.

The fact that you and so many other recent arrivals lack them is...concerning.

I am currently trying to reach the Firstforged on this very topic, but I have a feeling the reply is not going to be good.

[He listens with a frown, not liking where this is headed but not so stubborn to ignore it.]

I've heard mention of those without Glyphs...changing. I've also heard reference to monsters.

I am skeptical, Prime, but I'm not foolish. If there is any merit in these rumors, then my portal may be the single most important project on this planet.

It would behoove these demi-gods to assist.

And you.

[This is a direct stare, right into those glowing blue optics of yours.] Will you assist?

Edited 2012-11-09 22:44 (UTC)

I've heard something similar. I'm in the midst of trying to get more information.

[Which is exactly what he's been worrying about. That doesn't bode well.]

And of course.

You really don't think I want to stay here, or keep bouncing between worlds forever, do you? I've had a similar idea for some time - I do still have an older copy of those schematics, after all. But we've only just recently passed the point of managing basic survival logistics. It is a good time for it, though we might not have all the the resources yet.

[He nods slowly to himself, staring back unflinchingly.]

...So. Let's try to keep the inevitable betrayals to a minimum, shall we?

[Awww Prime, you actually manage to get him to smile.]

Then we're of one accord.

If I can obtain a gateway back, Optimus, I'll have no reason to betray anyone.

[He pauses.]

Anyone here, at any rate. I do intend to change history, after all.

[He might be smirking back under that mask. Maybe.]

Good to know. Hopefully it stays that way.

[He chuckles, shaking his head.]

And you're not the only one. Maybe this time someone will make it back.

[There is merely a nod from him for a moment, before he really considers what you've said.]

Would you go back, Prime?

Back to my time?

[He's curious.]

What would you change?

Your time? I intend to return the the point I left.

But if I were to, hypothetically, go back to your time specifically?

[He looks thoughtful for a long moment, glancing up at the screen.]

If I could go back far enough, you can be sure that I would prevent a certain prison incident from ever occurring.

If nothing else, my every goal would be to try and prevent the war from reaching such massive, disastrous proportions. Be it through you - or through other means.

If you do go home, Optimus, make sure my future self does not get the better of you.

[Really, it would be a shame.]

...

[However, he simply nods.] I shall take that as it is, then. Perhaps, when we are both finally settled...

...you may have that opportunity.

I would certainly prefer that he did not. I have too much to do.

[Especially considering he already knows what will happen if be does.

He nods in turn, satisfied that Megatron's sudden appearance won't be (immediately) disastrous.]

...Hm. Perhaps we shall see.

Repairing your Cybertron, maybe?

[If you win your war and he wins his...what does that mean? Is that balance?]

You do know if you came to my world, I'd be certain to show you around.

Among other things, yes. Repairing my world may well be the work of lifetimes, though.

[If anything so chaotic as that could be called 'balance', then perhaps so. A twisted sort of linked, inter-dimensional balance.

That sort of concept sounds terrifying.]

Show me around? Would I even survive the experience?

[Broadcasting from the tallest peak he can find in the junk pile.]

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