lastofthirteen

[lastofthirteen]

OOC.

HEY ALL!! posting it here too, but FORGIVE ME FOR BEING SO QUIET OVER HERE!! muse for Zeta Prime has been particularly low (been trying to get it back but so far i haven't had too much inspo for him recently) so i haven't been writing too much here!

HOWEVER, i DO have muse for Bayverse Optimus over at @brctherscnce!! read the rules, and we can possibly interact sometime! go WILD!!

ALSO, like i said on my skybound op blog, i DO have a smut blog! it's @primedlust, which has Zeta Prime, Bayverse Optimus AND Skybound Optimus! i usually only post every Sinday-- HOWEVER, i will also answer some stuff outside of sinday!

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG!!! it is not safe for work/life!!

[lastofthirteen]

OOC.

HEY ALL!! posting it here too, but FORGIVE ME FOR BEING SO QUIET OVER HERE!! muse for Zeta Prime has been particularly low (been trying to get it back but so far i haven't had too much inspo for him recently) so i haven't been writing too much here!

HOWEVER, i DO have muse for Bayverse Optimus over at @brctherscnce!! read the rules, and we can possibly interact sometime! go WILD!!

ALSO, like i said on my skybound op blog, i DO have a smut blog! it's @primedlust, which has Zeta Prime, Bayverse Optimus AND Skybound Optimus! i usually only post every Sinday-- HOWEVER, i will also answer some stuff outside of sinday!

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG!!! it is not safe for work/life!!

[lastofthirteen]

The bluntness, then the almost quick attempt to put on a mask. Zeta, however, saw through it.

It was the quickness of how he seemed to switch, the kindness about him being a guest felt false to Zeta-- even if that might've not been what was intended. The Prime only looked more pained, and he slightly moved back from Rodimus. His head tilted downward, all while thoughts ran through his processor. He knew nothing of what this other Zeta had done, only the sparsest of details, yet what he did know left his spark churning, cracking into pieces. And now he had to witness the pain of another who'd suffered under that Prime's regime.

" Perhaps not. " Zeta's voice grew quieter, as if he believed his voice would somehow threaten to destroy everything around Rodimus and take away more from him. What if, his presence just made things worse? Even then. He knew very well that this was not something in his control-- he was not the mech who'd tortured all of Nyon. Zeta Prime was one of the original Thirteen Primes-- was that one ALSO such?

" ... Thou certainly would never be a bad multidimensional host, fellow Prime. " Zeta tried to reassure him, though his shoulders slumped. " ... But, I should know when the discomfort is too great for another to bear. That would make me... " A bad Prime.

" I would much prefer to ensure thy well-being. Not my own. Thou dost not require such a mask. Do not hide thy feelings... thou hast dealt with much, much more than I could imagine. So. If it comforts thee and puts thy mind at ease, I shall take my leave. "

This Zeta sounded so... sad. Genuinely sad. Rodimus hadn't exactly had many conversations with his own Zeta Prime, but he'd watched his propaganda projects, interviews, everything he could to get to know the Prime who was his enemy. He'd always been so fake, so clearly acting every moment of empathy or upsetment towards those being lost to the war between the factions. So fake even when he told the families and friends of the Nyoni citizens that kept going missing to not give up hope.

Rodimus remembered everything, one wouldn't believe literally millions of years had passed.

The smoke, the omega destroyers, the gruesome sound of energon being forcefully pumped out of terrified victims, the screaming that suddenly ended with the pulse charges' explosion. So many sparks stomped out in minutes.

There was no going back. No way of changing the past.

The youngest Prime shook his head, both to shake away the thoughts that threatened to plague his mind.

"You can't fix it," he said, blunter than he meant to be. Then, his vents went off and he once again reminded himself that this was not his Zeta, this was just some mech that had the same name. "You don't have to try to fix anything, you didn't do anything. It's not for you to fix."

Rodimus clasped his servos together. Already, he let the mask of his public persona slip on. "Besides, you are a guest!" he said quickly. "I can't have you busting your aft around here, that would make me a bad host. I won't be known as the first prime to be a bad multidimensional host."

[lastofthirteen]

"WE WERE BROTHERS ONCE!"

ONCE.

INDIE BAYVERSE OPTIMUS PRIME SET POST-SERIES

WRITTEN BY/FOLLOWS (AND INTERACTS) BACK FROM KCNHUB

READ RULES AND ABOUT BEFORE INTERACTING.

[lastofthirteen]

Observing. Menacingly.

... but he's quietly allowing worried or uncomfortable bots under his wing. Or, helicopter blades, and flaring out a large cape to just let them use as a little blanket. Come here, forgelings.

[lastofthirteen]

Forgive him for staring-

“How’s the weather up there?” He resets his vocoder into his fist. “Sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to make that joke.”

Looking down, he couldn't help but chuckle after it took him a moment to process. Giving the other a very, very gentle nudge with his staff, he gave a simply reply,

" T'is very wonderful weather, friend. But how is thy weather down THERE? "

He could be heard happily giggling under his helm when he heard that. Looks like they were BOTH jokesters.

[lastofthirteen]

The one time he fuckin' agrees with Unicron and it's over Pringles.

Guess who just learned that Pringles are made with dried potato flakes, rather than just straight mashed potato?

This thing.

Its anger ignites the nearby trees.

[lastofthirteen]

Brainstorm offers Zeta a large orb that looked very unassuming, only having a comically large red button on it. When pushed, the orb quickly expanded and changed to form a type of plasma blaster. He looks very proud of himself.

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

The orb? Very unassuming indeed-- it almost reminded him of the very Zodiac that rested within the tip of his staff! Albeit... well, the obvious difference was that this orb had a big red button on it. Glancing up to Brainstorm, he was left rather confused... but, opted to push it. Surely, that's what Brainstorm wanted him to do, right?

The moment he pushed it, he watched it suddenly expand before his optics before a plasma blaster just dropped into his hands after the sudden expansion. Zeta stared at it. At first, it seemed like the Prime was going to be unamused.

... 'Til he chuckled like a little kid on Christmas, and carefully aimed the blaster's barrel downward after happily studying it all over-- he needed to practice proper trigger discipline, after all!-- and then looked to Brainstorm.

" ... How about we test this out, dearest friend? I would like to see how it works! "

[lastofthirteen]

Steamtrack steps up and gives Zeta a small wooden carving in his likeness. It was by no means perfect, but it could be seen the effort was there.

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

There were most likely some that would've laughed at such a gift-- they would've pointed out the imperfections, believed it to be unworthy of their visage. Indeed, some Primes closer to the modern day were far more arrogant when it came to something like gifts meant for them.

... Zeta, though?

The way his optics lit up in joy under his helm was unmatched. His smile was so wide, there was a faint glow from his optics that illuminated it. He knelt down a bit and cradled the carving in his servo, unable to help but look it over.

" ... it is so wonderful. "

... As a Prime that'd been forgotten by most of the world and did not have much of a place to call home... these gifts were something that really did help him feel at home.

[lastofthirteen]

Soundwave gives Zeta a small medal. It's unassuming at first, but upon closer inspection the medal is actually an award for being undefeated in 75 Pit fights.

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

The young gladiator's optics sparkled for a moment, " I-Is this yours? Why, that's amazing! You really are powerful, huh?-- " He started to ask, holding the medal so tenderly in his servos as optics that... did not recognize the other mech looked into his visor. So much innocence, despite the horrors of the Pits of Kaon. His head lowered, now trying to scan what it was he was given.

The smile on his face faltered.

His helm pounded, and he could swear he saw energon on his servos that he hadn't seen just moments ago. He looked up at Soundwave, and all he saw was a face that stared into his very soul while Quintessons roared around them. This wasn't real. But why was this flash of a memory so familiar to him? Was it even HIS OWN memory?

" ... I-I'll keep it, only if you'd want me to... I-I'm honored, really! "

[lastofthirteen]

Zeta gets a stack of three gooey freshly-baked cookies, wrapped in a lacy napkin.

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

When Zeta received this, at first he was confused. His optics drifted down, holding this so carefully in his hands as if these freshly-baked cookies was some sort of newborn human, or maybe a glass flower. But, what could practically be felt was the big, big smile that spread across his face under his helm.

Very mindfully, he pinched a cookie between his digits and lifted it up, popping it into his mouth-- and he laughed in delight!

" OH-- oh, t'is like how Prima would make! " He kicked his legs rapidly in pure childlike joy, his biolights flashing to a bright pink, before leaning down to Rung's level and holding out one of the cookies, " L-Let us share, dearest friend! These are far too great to be enjoyed by only one! "

[lastofthirteen]

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

Things may or may not be added to their official inventory

[lastofthirteen]

Send 🍁 + Any question you’ve been curious to know about my muse!

Could be absolutely anything. Don’t be shy!

[lastofthirteen]

" My fellow Cybertronians. I must ask thee, what in thy fucketh name is a 'gyatt', and why is it used so frequently with the younger human population? "

[lastofthirteen]

" Such is true. " He hummed, " And of course, for that, I am always very grateful. " He didn't want Rodimus to think that somehow his efforts were in vain, they really did genuinely help Zeta. It felt nice to... to have a place he belonged. Everything Rodimus had done had truly helped Zeta-- even to the point he'd felt safe enough to remove his helm.

But there were things Zeta just couldn't stop thinking about.

" ... It is just... so new. But I have not met many that are from my days. "

" Not all may even remember me. They only do, for... " A pause, " The other Zeta. One that I believe does not deserve the title of Prime. " He faltered for a moment, lifting his head as if trying to look to whatever God that was out there, " ... So much time has passed, and... I am displaced. I do not have a home... I... want to be able to go home. "

Shifting around, the fiery speedster turned to properly face the larger Prime. He looped his own arms around Zeta’s neck and returned the hug, letting his warmth deep into that older frame.

“I’d bet it’s overwhelming..” His servos caressed at the other’s neck and shoulders, trying to soothe him.

“But you aren’t alone. You’ve got me, for one.” Rodimus offered a soft smile, lightly bunting his helm against Zeta’s.

[lastofthirteen]

@dragvnsovl continued from here.

--

" Perhaps not. " Zeta muttered out, letting himself just focus on the younger Prime in his arms, to distract himself from the emotions that welled within. " Just... thinking. Far too much thinking. "

He closed his optics, just letting himself hunch as he pulled Rodimus a little closer.

" ... It just feels... very surreal. All of this. I... am alive, and such is a blessing. But I do not recognize anything anymore. "

[lastofthirteen]

Pain receptors were firing all over, it was only making everything harder and harder to focus on. His digits twitched once in a while to remind himself that he was indeed alive, his dermae trying so hard to open to offer responses to her, anything to just explain his situation.

" Zz.. ssent-- " No, no, that wasn't it. He wasn't on Cybertron anymore, there was no Sentinel, no Maximo, either-- it was only... yes, right, of course... He needed to say his own name, he had no need to warn others. Zeta's optics flickered off, as he diverted more energy into speaking and conveying who he was. Yes, he wanted to say, please hear me. I am a Prime. I am...

" ... Ze... ta. "

There was more to it than that, he knew. If he could just have a few more things broadcast... just a few more things...

ENERǦ̨͇͕͙̯̘̮̦͌͛̏ͤͫ̚ON̝̫̳̘ͩ͐̅ͮ͘ R̜̱̊̿̉ͯ̃ͫÉ͎̰͎̲̃ͦ̆̎̎̏́̌͟͡S͈̲̟͎̘̝̗ͣ̏͒̄E̷̥̞̰͔̰̻̥̺ͨ̓͝R̛̩̟̰̙͚͓̣̽͠V̮̦͚̜͍ͫ͊͢E͓̭̥̣̭̳ͭ͞S̈ͦ̽̓̾̽̔̔҉̹͉̞ ̰̣̠ͧ͊L̦̙͛ͮ͋̚̕͝Õ͚̣̱̮̗̤̬̓́ͨͪͧͧ͞Ẇ̨̬͙͎̾͂̕--

DES̝̩͍I҉͉̗̤͇͖͈G̳̗NATION: ZET̛̪͖̰͕͉̗̥A̢̠̟ ͞P͖R̴̰̜̮̟IME ALIASES: THE THIRTEENTH. THE PRIME OF REBIRTH. THE VISIONARY. THE ARISEN. DAMAGE: SEVERE. REROUTING SUBSYSTEMS.

He coughed, old bits of energon managing to escaped his throat-vents, making him twitch and shudder.

There was something else there, something he could feel. A place-- no, a person he could not remember the last time he ever got to see. It was in the scanner, in the neural cable. One optic flickered on, just for a moment, to try to focus on Windblade's face while he could only lie there in the dirt. And then it hit him. Metroplex?

His digits twitched again.

" ... thirteen original... Primes... thirteenth... "

Continuation from HERE

@lastofthirteen

Sparks crackled from his voicebox and the cables that made up his throat when he tried to speak. Fuel lines had long since been 'fixed', if you could truly call it that, and plating was damaged through powerful blasts and gashes and whatever else that decided to attack the Prime. Those wounds had all been from millions of years ago, all from weaponry that could undoubtedly be considered ancient technology. He had just woken up after just barely making it to the odd planet dubbed 'Earth', and found himself face-to-face with some sort of femme. His optics barely focused, simply flickering as his mouth opened under his helmet, about to say something in response-- ENERGON RESERVES LOW. His digits twitched, his servos trying to press against the soft earthen ground, yet he couldn't push himself up. Shakily, Zeta managed to speak up, " ... Y-Yes. Hello. " He managed to at least lift his servo up, just a little-- albeit, his arm fell to the ground near his head. He held out a digit. He wanted to greet her properly. " I-I am... " He could barely focus... " ... Prime... "

PRIORITY ASSET LOCATED.

The signal had been so sudden, so intense, that it nearly knocked Windblade off her pedes. It was a warning: she wasn't being careful enough when connecting to Metroplex for his repairs, some of his software was seeping into her, some kind of sensor she shouldn't have but now did— and it had picked up SOMETHING here on Earth, despite Metroplex being back on Cybertron, too far away for such a signal to reach him.

Even if it wasn't meant for her, she couldn't ignore it. Windblade would rid herself of the sneaky Titan-made upgrades later. For the time being, she had focused on finding this 'Priority Asset'.

A mech. Too small to be another Titan, considerably and horrifyingly damaged.

Her neural cable showed that the damage went deeper than her optics could see. It was truly a miracle that he was still functional— truth be told, Windblade wasn't sure until some poking and prodding through his systems made it possible for her to divert energy from currently less needed functions and towards his processor.

Windblade smiled gently at him. "Shh... it's okay, don't force yourself," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder from where she knelt close to his head. "Hello, I am Windblade. I'm here to help you-"

I am Prime.

Her optics shifted from the ancient cybertronian symbols being broadcast before her eyes —most of them red, some of them yellow, indicating the damage— to once again meet his optics. Her own having widened. Prime. Had she heard him right? He just called himself a prime.

He had to be confused. There were no primes left other than Optimus and Rodimus. But nothing in the signal she was picking up from his processor indicated confusion about his identity. Not the smallest bit of it.

"Can you tell me your name?" she asked softly.