Tag: Thelibrarianpax

::I was beginning to think something had befallen you, Orion. I’m glad I was mistaken.::

thelibrarianpax:

It had been some time since he had heard that graveled voice burst over his comms. Now that he had heard it, his audials ached for more.

Carefully, he clears his vocoders even though there is little need for them.

::Hello, my friend.:: he begins, hesitant: perhaps feeling guilty for causing worry. ::There were a few close incidents down under the surface, but it will take more than pitfalls, quakes, and hostile wildlife to put this mech down.:: He chuckles, but makes sure the humor is not heard over the invisible tether between them. :: l hope you are doing well, and are staying out of trouble.::

His mouth opens as if he wants to say more, but words escape him.

::Ha, good to know that you would have survived the mines as well!:: Of course he would have. Orion had always been made of strong stuff, even if his plating hadn’t always been as such. Hearing Orion’s voice, the familiarity in it, always gave him a strong sense of nostalgia. But this time, Megatron felt not an ounce of pain in that remembrance.

::Out of trouble… Please, Orion. When have you ever known me to shy away from trouble?:: He looks over himself, the damage Unicron brought to him in his possession. In a few days, Singer is going to attempt the largest reconstructive surgery yet: reshaping his stretched-out struts.

::I’ve survived a few incidents myself, in your absence. I’ll be well soon enough.::

Orion. It is… good to see you. Doing well.

thelibrarianpax:

thelibrarianpax:

*The librarian turned with a flicker of light playing in his already luminescent blue eyes, and nodded his helm to the silver titan who had graced him with a greeting. * My lord. It is good to see you in my brief visit. Still as strong as ever I hope? How have you been?

*He nods and leans back against his desk, crisscrossing his arms so his data pad rested against his lap. * I see. I’m afraid, my lord, that you or my friends here *he nods to the history books surrounding him * have turned me into a cynic. That task seems easier said than done… And prone to biases.

*He hums his minor fans* but goodness exists in the people and I am sure you will be able to find it with time and luck.

“Heh. I am even more cynical than most- but fiercely stubborn as well. The benefit of hindsight is that one can learn from the past, and that is what I intend to do.” He rests a servo on Orion’s shoulder. “I only hope that our resident optimist is able to see the potential in such a future, and have faith.”

Orion. It is… good to see you. Doing well.

thelibrarianpax:

mighty-megatron:

thelibrarianpax:

*The librarian turned with a flicker of light playing in his already luminescent blue eyes, and nodded his helm to the silver titan who had graced him with a greeting. * My lord. It is good to see you in my brief visit. Still as strong as ever I hope? How have you been?

That old familiar glint brings a grin to his shredded faceplates. 

“Strong as I must be. I have been well, and the reconstruction is ahead of schedule. Iacon and Vos especially have started to become something like what they once were.”

*He forgets sometimes that they were destroyed. He casts his eyes down and fiddles with the book he was holding, but soon returns the grin* I hope they turn out better than what they once were. Will Iacon be your capital or Kaon? *He mumbles* will there be a council?

It would seem that Orion did not like being reminded of his war. Megatron couldn’t blame him.

“I am confident they will shine once more. Iacon will remain our capital, but I shall return to Kaon to live.” The quiet question merits serious consideration. After a few tense moments, he replies.

“Not at first. We must first find a way to ensure that all are truly represented, and that such representation cannot be corrupted.”

Orion. It is… good to see you. Doing well.

thelibrarianpax:

*The librarian turned with a flicker of light playing in his already luminescent blue eyes, and nodded his helm to the silver titan who had graced him with a greeting. * My lord. It is good to see you in my brief visit. Still as strong as ever I hope? How have you been?

That old familiar glint brings a grin to his shredded faceplates. 

“Strong as I must be. I have been well, and the reconstruction is ahead of schedule. Iacon and Vos especially have started to become something like what they once were.”

A Bouquet of Zinnia, Sycamore, Amaranth, and Orange Roses

thelibrarianpax:

The librarian remains quiet as he takes the organic foliage into his servos, his mood contemplative and somber. One servo moves to brush over the bouquet’s soft petals, the other moves to place them in a vase bathed in the light of the Star. Beautiful.

Yet he furrows his brows, and plucks one, an amaranth, with a kind of controlled viciousness that nearly snaps the flora’s delicate stem in two, and forces it back into the warlord’s hand.

He stands then and observes in silence, watching as several petals fall to the floor over their pedes, marking the cold ground with colour. His optics glow with defiance, with sorrow, with hurt. You think you are the only one, Megatron, who has felt this loss?

He was still again.

Then, before the lord could turn and leave and take the beaten flower with him, Orion gives one of his own. Taking Megatron’s empty palm into his own, he draws, with a single fingertip upon scarred, eroded metal, a tulip…over and over and over again until his knees grow weak and he kneels upon the petal littered floor.

One look at the hurt in Orion’s optics and Megatron knows he’s done it. This is it, the final straw at last. It was bound to happen sooner or later. The naive data clerk would come to hate him in any cruel reality…

As he’s about to leave the future-Optimus to the past, his servo finds itself caught. He watches the digit trace its symbol, not understanding the message right away. Once a visible mark has made clear the tulip in his palm, Megatron shakes his helm, stilling Orion’s servo between his own. Anything but that. His optic ridges draw together. 

Megatron would join him on the floor, unable or unwilling to surrender Orion’s arm just yet.

Last Judgement (Closed RP)

thelibrarianpax:

Orion kept his helm bowed and his blue eyes focused on the ground as he strolled with the Master. Most perceived his humble pose as a form of submission, but the interpretation was only partially true. It was difficult to walk briskly while wearing the long, light blue sash that dangled from his hips. Orion often worried that he would trip over its end. It was soft and exquisitely made, that much was true, but the mech did not understand the tradition of dressing ranking Temple affiliates in limiting cloths just as he did not understand the accusations the Temple held against the titan imprisoned below the polished floors. He was beginning to think it was only done out of ceremony. “I…I do not fully grasp the severity of his crimes, sir. He seemed angry, but he did not seem, ah, violent. Are you certain he is the herald of darkness?”

“I heard he crushed a guard against a stairwell wall as he was being led away,” Lumens answered, bored, and unphased by Orion’s soft gasp. “And that is only the latest entry to a long list of fiendish activities he has committed. Killing for sport for one…”

Orion’s optics opened wide. “Truly? Is the guard alright?” he inquired, leaning closer to hear the Master’s words.

“Mmn. His condition is…uncertain,” the older mech replied, quickly licking his upper lip with a thin glossa. “What is certain is that this Megatronus is dangerous no matter if he is or is not the Chaos’ Bringer’s prophet.” He stopped in his tracks in the middle of the slowly dimming hall, and clasped Orion’s gentle, blunt hands between his own. “Primus will forgive the wicked in the Well, Orion Pax, but it up to us to ensure the Well continues to exist. If Chaos is allowed to grow and run rampant through mechs like Megatronus, our life, our future, and our Primus is threatened.” Lumens’s optics narrowed before he continued. “But need not worry, child. He will be given three tests and held ‘til the end of the stellar cycle. If he is innocent he will be released to the state-authorities. If not…well, he will not be released until we know for sure that he is not the spawn of our deaths.”

Orion, wipe eyed and all, slowly withdraws his servos from the elder’s grasp. “What will happen if he is the Son of Darkness?”

Lumen’s optics glinted and malice tainted his voice. “You need not worry about it, my child.”

——

“It is up to us to ensure the Well continues to exist. It is up to us to ensure the Well continues to exist,” Orion chanted under his vents, which fogged in the coolness of the dark corridors he crept down.

To his good fortune he had come during the changing of the guards, which made it undeniably easier to sneak down to the lower chambers.  Although Orion Pax was the Son of Light, his new position did not grant him many more privileges, especially not the ones that would allow him access to the lower levels. 

But tease a curious mech like Orion with a puzzle and the need to solve it will overwhelm his common sense, and Lumens had left him with just that.

Lumens’s explicit words of warning did not help.

Holding his sash in his arms, Orion Pax “tip-toed” down a flight of stairs to the lower landing “…they must have cleaned the wall,” he hummed out loud when he reached the bottom without finding a trace of spilled energon upon the flagged sheets of metal.

To his horror his words echoed across the dark hall. Pulling his limbs close to himself, Orion dared to softly call out to the mech that lurked within one of the shadowy cells.”…Hello?”

They were starving him. It was hardly an unusual punishment; miners were often starved if misbehaved or failed to meet their quota. Megatronus was used to running on a quarter tank, even despite his size and injuries. Still, he had the feeling that the reason was more sinister. One of Unicron’s other titles was Devourer of Worlds.

He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his hunger. He’d rather let his tank rust away than give them another reason to cry Monster.

A low voice echoed through the corridor. The gladiator leaned close enough to the electric grid to feel the charge lick at his plating, trying to find the source. He hadn’t seen a guard in several kliks, and they didn’t talk much around the prisoners. Megatronus listened closer, but didn’t get up from his position on the floor. His damaged knee wouldn’t let him stand for long, and that time wouldn’t be wasted on some lost fanatic.

Even so, it would be unwise to let the opportunity to be one-on-one with someone inside go wasted. It was easier to open one person’s eyes than it would be to pry open hundreds. Silenced by the muzzle, the silver mech clanked his cuffs against legs to signal that he’d heard.

Let it be someone with a shred of decency left.