#◤— · // « ᴠᴇʀsᴇ » ┊ ❛ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ❜ ○「 ᴍᴀɪɴ 」

[elitaxne]

┊  ❛ JOURNEYS END . . . ❜

♔. }

       Today was the day. Finally. After several years of stress, planning, Energon, sweat, and tears the Educational Centre was finally OPENING; with a momentous unveiling set for the early afternoon. Not a spark on Cybertron HADN’T heard of the Centre’s construction, the building itself marking itself in their planet’s history as the first educational complex permissible for ALL mecha.

With all the excited chatter focused on the unveiling the past few days had gone by in a blink of an optic since Elita and Optimus had ventured to the Vaults. Their conversation placed on temporary hold... along with another one she had yet to enlighten him too. The Councillor grinned to herself as Xetix clasped the final pieces of her garment in place, lifting a servo to trace slow circles over her spark pulse. The emotions were almost UNBEARABLE to keep at bay but she managed; the cherry on top of what would be the perfect day she mused.

❝ There! You are all done, Elita, ❞ the elder mech chirped, taking a step away from the femme to allow her room to look herself over.

Elita’s optics widened, turning gently from side to side as the gold, glittering fabric sparkled under her walk-in closet lights. Light, airy fabric practically floated from her frame in a short train, open sleeves draping over shoulder pauldrons giving the appearance of a faux cape that drifted down her backplates to the floor in a shimmering waterfall. The decorative front covered over her chestplates then parted up to her shoulder pauldrons, all of her coated helm to pede in champagne stars.

❝ Xetix, you have out down yourself... ❞ she vented, peeking over to the mech waiting by the door, ready to tackle dressing Cygnus and Cephei ( then prepare himself for the occasion, a front row ticket to the unveiling at that ).

The elder mech beamed, ❝ Hold that thought until all four of you are together. ❞ Four arms waved at his sides, ❝ THEN, I will be more than willing to agree. ❞

Elita chuckled, carefully seating herself on a plush stool ahead of her ornamentation vanity. ❝ Or, I will impart with you the same compliment again. Out doing yourself twice in one day ought to be a new record, wouldn’t you say? ❞

Xetix laughed, a low, wheezing laugh. ❝ I would, ❞ he agreed, giving her a final nod before dashing out to Cygnus and Cephei’s room, assistants carrying their garments promptly scurrying behind.

Sitting in front of all her glimmering jewels and adornments she couldn’t quite decide what to pick, holding up helm ornament after ornament only to purse her lip plates. None quite seemed to FIT. That is, until she had a thought.

Leaning over very, VERY carefully, she opened a hidden compartment beneath the flat of the vanity, retrieving a lone velvety box. Cradling it delicately she opened the lid, revealing her most prized possession: the ornament Zeta Prime had gifted to her when she was but a young Councillor. It may not have been the largest ornament she owned but it was the most beautiful, and sentimental. A couple long dangling ends coated in gold and shimmering gems ran up to connect at a clustering of pastel crystal flora, holding the tendrils together as if by almost invisible threads.

A soft smile warmed her features and delicate digit tips ran over it, finding the familiar and strange groove on the far end of the main connector. Ridge crinkled. For as long as she’d owned it she had never understood its purpose, as though a part of the ornament were MISSING and connected at the indentation. Elita vented, securing it in place to fall in line where her helm and fascia met. Perfect... actually... Gathering a few smaller dangling ornaments the femme dispersed them amongst her other finnials meticulously until completely satisfied with the placements; Zeta’s gift most prominent amongst the additions.

                                                   NOW, it was perfect.

                {{ Sweetspark, do you need help with anything, I am just finishing... }}

[dirtypride-archive]

.

[destrezam]

Tag Dump

&& | ɪɴᴛʀᴏsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

♦ | ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ 

♦ | ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs         

♦ | ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ  

( ᴅɪᴠᴇʀsᴏ ) ᴍɪsᴄ.

( ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪɴᴇʀ ) ᴠ | ᴍᴀɪɴ

( ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ) ᴠ|ᴍᴀɪɴ

( ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ɴᴏɴsᴇɴsᴇ ) | ᴘsᴀ

( ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ) ᴍ | ʀᴘ

( ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇsᴛʀᴀɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀs ) ᴀɴᴀᴛᴏᴍʏ

( ɪᴛ ʜᴀs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ) ᴏᴏᴄ

( ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ʜᴇʀᴏᴇs ) ᴍᴜsɪɴɢs

( sᴜʀᴘᴀss ᴛʜɪs sᴡᴏʀᴅ ) ᴀᴇsᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ

( ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ) ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏ

( ʟɪɢʜᴛᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ) ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ

( ᴍᴇʀᴄɪʟᴇss ) ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

( ʟᴏᴠᴇʟᴏʀɴ ) ʜᴀɴᴄᴏᴄᴋ

( ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ) ᴀᴜ

( ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ ) ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴀʀᴛ

( sᴘɪᴛғɪʀᴇ ) sᴘɪᴋᴇ

( sᴜᴄᴄᴇssᴏʀ ) ᴢᴏʀᴏ

( ᴛʀᴀɴǫᴜɪʟ ) sᴀᴍɪʟ

( ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀs ) sᴀᴠᴇs

( ʟᴇᴛ ᴜs sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ) ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ

( ғʟᴀᴍᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ) ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ!ᴠᴇʀsᴇ

( ᴘᴇʀɪʟᴏᴜs ) ᴘᴇʀᴏɴᴀ

[gvildmastcr]

Tag dump 01 - verses.

[elitaxne]

┊ ❛ COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS ❜

— · //「 OPTIMUS 」

The first thing Optimus heard upon waking was the steady beep of the spark monitor on the right side. It threw him off for a moment, but the pain from his entire frame pulled him back to reality, far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. While he’d nearly died multiple other times and had sustained numerous injuries over the years, his current state far outweighed everything else that had come before.

Optimus blinked, slow and lethargic as his vision began to gradually come into focus. Everything around him was stark white and greys, the tell-tale hues of a medical recovery room. That’s when everything came rushing back, from the strange dreamlike memories of nearly passing into the Well, to waking up with–

“L-ita…” he groaned, vocalizer emitting broken and guttural static, faded cyan hues desperately looking around him while servos struggled weakly to reach around for her.

    {{ Where are you? How long has it been since I went into forced stasis? Where are the twins? }}

Optimus could barely even recall waking up last, thanks to being so disoriented and in so much pain, but he recalled the doctor giving him a sedative. Checking his internal chronometer was hardly much of a help, his whole entire system still recalibrating.

                          {{ Are they here? I want to see them, PLEASE--- }}

♔. }

       Elita’s day to day had mostly been spent in a similar condition to her mate, recharging on her designated chair at his side, refusing to leave for even a fraction of a second. Multiple monitors and additional lines of Energon had been hooked to her spark, directly feeding it sustaining electric currents and lifeblood while it recovered from the trauma, but after the second day it was strong enough to be removed. Plans to see Cygnus and Cephei were also temporarily on hold, assuring that both Optimus and Elita were steady enough to allow for socialization; doctors didn’t want to take any chances considering the pair had JUST barely cheated death.

On the third day she’d been able to maintain consciousness from sunrise to sundown, reading a data pad in between updates from the doctor, a few spark appointments, and keeping Optimus company. Cygnus and Cephei had come for a visit, opting to nap in her lap until the nurses ushered them to recovery berths for proper recharge.

Even though the Prime been in stasis she knew he was there with her, sated pulses idly drifting in the bond in reassurance, so unlike how he’d had been days earlier; clinging to the last tendrils that connected them, cold, and distant. Elita had forced the thought from her helm, forgoing rest until systems shut down, a part of her terrified to the core of closing her optics for too long in fear of returning to the horrific darkness of the spiritual realm; of returning to the Well for good.

Today marked the fourth day, keeping to the usual schedule same as always. Quiet. Slender digits flicked over her data pad screen, taking to the leisurely reading long since put on hold.

                                                          ❛ L-ita . . . ❜ 

Optics shot up, the data pad instantly forgotten.

❝ I’m here, I’m right here Sweetspark. It’s okay... ❞ the femme hushed, taking the wandering servo and giving it a gentle squeeze. ❝ Easy, easy, my Light... you were in stasis for a few days. Just try to relax, it’s okay... ❞ Elita whispered, scooting closer in her chair, thumbing over the back of the mangled metal servo in her hold.

    {{ Cygnus and Cephei are playing with the other younglings here. I will have an attendant bring them over to visit, okay? }}

The promise simultaneously mouthed over to a mecha waiting outside the room, who nodded, and rushed off in search of the twins.

Cerulean hues softened, glancing over the marrings deeply embedded on his fascia, an immediate PANG surged through her spark, and another. Lip plates tugged into a small smile, digits squeezing the larger ones in their careful hold.

      {{ It feels so strange to not be the one in the recovery berth. YOU were so often the one sitting in the uncomfortable chair while I lay helplessly on the mat... }}

An amused vent whistled from fuchsia plates, the colouring nearly fully returned to its full vibrancy. Leaning over, Elita pressed a soft kiss to the side of his helm, hovering a few inches ahead of focusing cyan optics, bewildered but brightening.

[elitaxne]

┊  ❛ CHANGES ❜

♔. }

       It had taken WEEKS but finally the lengthy business trip had seen its end. Day after day had been spent in the company of Councillor Merga ( to both their chagrin ), their duty as the Council representatives of Cybertron keeping them captive at the political summit on Velocitron, though it may as well have been the other side of the galaxy. Trapped on their sister planet locked in meeting after meeting, hearings and deliberations with other planetary ambassadors while outlining the next phase of governing as the first decade since Cybertron’s resurrection neared, thankfully.

If nothing else, they had upheld their end of the bargain, and Cybertron continued to make tremendous progress in the eyes of the other colonies --- they needn’t know the rot grappling the inner sanctum of the High Council. One day, Elita hoped, the cancerous presence of the old Councillors would phase out and make way for the like-minded mecha her and Optimus NEEDED to help lead their world to prosperity, but that day seemed too far from reach at the moment, and it never failed to weigh on her processors.

Trudging down the hall from the lift to the door of her residency had never felt so long in all her life cycle, as though her pedes had been dipped in tar. The second she crossed the threshold the simultaneous relief of being home and expanse of exhaustion FLOODED over her systems, and the Councillor immediately flopped onto the lounger with a long drawn out sigh. There was still several HOURS until Optimus, the twins, and Kaal would come home, and while she had half a processor to surprise them at the Towers --- meeting them here was far more preferable. What better way than to catch them off-guard then to be waiting for when they too came home?

@oneshallstand

[elitaxne]

@cyber-pop-star // (x)

“Hello!” The minibot gave a friendly smile up at the other femme. She absolutely adored her paint job. I mean, she was pink herself but Elita’s shades of pink were gorgeous!

“Yes Rosanna is correct, though Rosie works just as well. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well miss-. Well, it seems you know my name, what may I call you?” She asked with a soft laugh. A proper introduction was better late then never!

♔. }

      ❝ Ah, Rosie, then, ❞ Elita hummed, blinking momentarily at the minibot’s inquiry. She... didn’t know who she was? Tinted lip plates pressed together then softened to a cordial smile. For the first time in history her reputation failed to precede her...

                              Though she supposed there was a first for everything---

❝ I am Councillor Elita-1, however, Elita is perfectly fine. It is a pleasure to meet you, ❞ the fuchsia femme replied softly. No need for all the stringent decorum or titles.

❝ I cannot help but notice your paint job, ❞ the Councillor chuckled, admiring the other’s bright colours, ❝ My daughter has a similar shading, though, not quite to the same EXPANSE as yours. ❞ While Elita and Rosie wore exclusively pink, Cephei had naturally taken to a violet colouring with only flecks of pink to accent certain features.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ FATHER’S DAY 2018 ❜

♔. }

      Today wasn't the first Sire-specific holiday to be celebrated in their household, but it was the first with the twins online, allowing them to participate. Since slowly making the transition to recharge in the Nursery rather than in berth with their Creators, it was easier to get them up and fed without disturbing the Prime. It had been another busy week for him, so Elita would allow him to recharge as late as he wanted --- more time for her to get things ready.

Both Cygnus and Cephei had offered their assistance as well when it came to the day’s preparations, acting as junior taste testers for Elita while she made her infamous Oil Cake, trilling and squirming about in their chairs at the sweet taste. The gooey mixture left a slight film on their servos and mouths, and she quickly wiped them away with a tutted vent --- silly little things were more prone to making messes lately, another sign of growing she supposed.

While the dessert cooled ( and Cygnus and Cephei woke from a short nap ), the twins again lent their servos to finish the final touches to the card. Instead of signing their names Elita put writing ink over the palms and digits of a servo, and pressed it to the parchment, repeating the process so that two tiny servo-prints accompanied Kaal’s padded paw, and her designation.

         ‘To the best Sire in the universe, thank you for all you do. We love you very much.’

                                                                                    - Lita, Cygnus, Cephei & Kaal

Elita smiled, perfect --- and right on schedule.

Brightly wrapped boxes remained poised on the living area’s table, glinting in the mid-morning sunlight as the new point of interest for both sparkling. Cygnus was most adamant on exploring what the strange packages were, but Elita held him captive against her chassis along with his sister, balancing them both in one arm, with a cube of midgrade and the personalized card in the other. The gifts would be opened later that day, same as usual: Energon jellies, new buffing wax, a recently published text he had shown interest in reading, and perhaps what would be the best of the gifts, a framed family picture ( Kaal included ) for his desk --- that one was from Cygnus and Cephei.

Quietly, the small troupe came into the berthroom, finding the slumbering Prime EXACTLY where he had been left a few hours previous. The only warning came as a playful pulse in the bond before she released the two excited sparklings, letting them wriggle and babble over to their Sire from the cushioned vacancy beside him. Cephei’s small servos patted at crimson plating with squeaking giggles, while Cygnus pulled himself to drape himself over the cushion beside Optimus’ helm, both helping to wake him up just as Mama had told them too while Elita set the mid-grade and card on her mate’s berthside table.

There was no better way to be awoken than by two adorable sparklings, and hot mid-grade, especially on Father’s Day.

@oneshallstand

[elitaxne]

Cue sad sick Prime noises across the shared bond. Could he trouble her for some energon?

♔. }

       And just as her mate had done when she was ill, Elita opted to work from home today, and likely over the course of the week. Thankfully, Cygnus, Cephei, and Kaal for that matter, all had gone down for an early afternoon nap with no fuss, and in perfect time to the ailing Prime’s internal request. Acknowledging pulses serve as gentle reply as the femme untangled herself from a particularly large and fuzzy blanket, wincing at the usual pops and creaks of aging joints before heading into the kitchenette.

Only a few moments are spent heating the low-grade ( with a sneaky medication dosage mixed into the brew ), during which time a few other remedies are collected from their shelving units, playing off the hunches plaguing the other side of the bond. At the chime of the warmer the cube is removed and various vials and containers scooped up in one fell swoop, making her way to the closed berthroom door as quietly as possible.

Tapping the keypad with her elbow joint doors open and the fuchsia form slips silently inside, offering consolation in the form of internal pulses while approaching. Setting the cube on the side table Elita perches on the edge of the berth, lining up the additional items in a row.

❝ I also brought you some things that will help you feel better, Sweetspark, ❞ she murmured, lifting a single digit to silence any protests before they could be voiced. ❝ Relax, you do not have to ingest anything — they are all topical… ❞ her voice trailed off quietly, already plucking the first vial from the table and squeezing out a dollop of clear cream into her palm.

Already the strange simultaneously cool and hot compound tingled in her servo, a good sign that it was WORKING, and she gently kneaded it over top the crimson plating in slow circles, massaging the clear cream until it evenly covered the surface. Slowly, little by little, the cool-hot cream had been applied to stiff shoulder pauldrons, tense cabling, and sore neck joints; relaxing all points of contact with a constant coolness, and setting deeper with a heated counterpart.

Quickly wiping down of her servo with a rag allowed her to move to the next remedy: this time for his helm. A few drops of a sharper and sweeter scented liquid wetted the tips of her digits, then gently massaged into the delicate wiring and crooks of his helm, mainly at the sides and front. This would help alleviate migraines and general aches, loosening the swollen wiring and easing the pain. Slender digits kneaded the droplets with utmost delicacy, and once sure it had been properly applied, pulled away to wipe her servo again.

Cool cerulean fell to simply look over her mate with a soft smile, and with loving pulses leaned forwards to press a featherlight kiss to the Prime’s burning forecrest.

❝ Rest well, my Light. I will come check on you in a little bit, ❞ the Councillor whispered, pressing another kiss to the surface. ❝ Promise, ❞ she reassured, showering him in a few more gentle affections before rising from the berth and slipping back into the hall. About once an hour was what she had thus far managed, each time Optimus had been deep in recharge but no matter, he needed the rest and she was around when he would wake. Always.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ TIMES TWO ❜

♔. }

       Elita shifted again in her seat as quietly and carefully as possible, keeping whatever focus in her reserves on the other Councillor as best she could manage --- which was next to nothing. All day her systems had been inexplicably OFF, first it was her tanks refusing refuel, now thermal regulators were on the fritz, forcing her to remain in a continual state of over-heating. Primus, she could feel the thin layer of perspiration collecting on the surface of her plating... Disgusting. Thankfully, the other Councillor’s hadn’t taken notice, or they had and decided against commenting on it, either way she was grateful.

❝ ... To your point Councillor, I think this new bill will help streamline the international trade co-op’s--- ❞ a younger Councillor continued with a chuckle, as smoke billowed from his vents.

❝ Except in the matter of TARIFFS, you mean... ❞ the other, older Councillor responded, glancing up to Elita expectantly. He was mostly pointing out the obvious that Elita would object to, best to pretend to be on the same page...

Cerulean hues blinked in a slight daze and she nodded her helm, trying to shake off the dull ache starting to rise in her chassis. The sooner this was over the sooner she could go home and lay down --- but, she remained diligent and dutiful as always, unfortunately.

❝ Agreed, ❞ Elita finally answered, shifting again in her seat with a creak, ❝ Labour laws and import regulations are only one piece of the puzzle --- the largest part being tariffs. That is what will most affect international trades, not to mention--- ❞ A sharp prickling pain SHOT through her circuitry, stealing the air from her vents and cutting her words short. Denta grit down as both Councillors shared a worried glance, then stared back up at her. Before a question could be posed she waved her servo, and the pain thankfully ebbed.

❝ Not to mention, on-world vendors who set in place trades with sistering planets during the war... ❞ Elita finished with a wheeze. The two other Councillors nodded, looking back to their data pads with stylus’s in hand --- time to go back over the plans, for the umpteenth time. Cerulean drop back to her own data pad and vision blurred for but a moment as another sharp electric pain burned through internal wiring, but this time she managed to better hide the discomfort externally --- internally, however, she apologized in the bond for residual pain the Prime might have felt.

      {{ I have made the decision that I will be leaving earlier than usual today. My circuits are retaliating against me it would seem... }}

@oneshallstand

[elitaxne]

@heligooddeals:

«You, uh.. You got a sec? To talk. About.. stuff.»

♔. }

      ¦ ¦  Of course... is something wrong?  ¦ ¦

[elitaxne]

@thesoundlessvoid | continued from (x)

He is excited.

Sparklings are a special thing, almost sacred now, especially in his world. He knows Elita and her Optimus are ruling an entirely different timeline where perhaps younglings are more common, but here? Blackout hasn’t seen a child since before the war and he refuses to think about that one false order he was given that resulted in the travesty that it resulted in. No. It never happened.

The breeze is cool despite the prevailing sun of summer – here in the mountains somewhere in Europe, the heat is mild and does not last long at this altitude. It is still warm enough for the forest to grow into a vibrant, wonderful green, so green that the tyton looks even more out of place than usual with his blue and silver plating, standing as tall as some of the trees.

Blackout watches the portal swirl into existence, turning partially to watch it. As soon as Elita comes through, the giant puts his signature cygar out in the palm of his hand and tucks it away into a compartment in his forearm, smiling lopsidedly at the two teensy bitties in her arms. One of them seems flabbergasted while the other is decidedly not.

He smiles, sharp double canines baring in the wide expression, heavy knees and hocks bending so he’s closer to their height and isn’t towering over them. “Well, I’ll be fu– sh– aren’t you two little squirmies the cutest?” he finally manages WITHOUT cursing. “Watcher name, huh? Primus, Elita, they’re awesome. Just fuc– just great, man.”

♔. }

       ❝ Thank you, Blackout --- you are far too kind to say so, ❞ Elita hummed, audials flicking at every near miss, the curses barely contained but still never quite coming to fruition, much to her relief. With Cygnus and Cephei now in the remedial stages of speaking and minds now fully ready to intake as much knowledge as possible, the avoidance of less than pleasing terms was an absolute must --- lest be placed in uncomfortable situations in the near future; they were public figures, after all.

Meanwhile, the burgundy mechling was all the more happy to indulge in the attention, flinging forwards with a squeal and bright beaming smile.

❝ I’m Cyg-uss! ❞ he blurted out, pronunciation incorrect but it was adorable all the same. Bouncing in his Carrier’s hold a small servo reached over to pat at his sister, still nestled close to fuchsia plating, identical cerulean hues warily watching the much larger and intimidating mech while he lowered himself closer. Primus, he was so big, and the purple femmeling whined, clinging to Elita’s plating.

❝ That’s Cee-fee! ❞ Cygnus introduced, wriggling closer to her and trying his best to whisper encouragement, but the words could be clearly heard nonetheless. ❝ Cee-fee, say hi... ❞ he prompted, goading his slightly younger twin sister to be social, even offering reassuring pulses in their sibling bond.

The femmeling peeked from her hiding place, waving a servo apprehensively. ❝ Hiiii... ❞ she peeped, not quite relinquishing her hold on her Carrier, but slowly growing more comfortable with the hovering mass of the unknown mech.

Cygnus squealed, staring up at the blue and red optics, barely resisting the urge to point at them. They were different colours! Mama and Papa's optics were both the same, but his were different, they didn’t match at all! But, manners first --- he didn’t know his new friend’s name yet, so formalities first.

❝ What’s your name? ❞ Cygnus finally asked, reaching forwards to the new mecha now that he was closer in range. Curious to a fault this one.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ THE OTHER SIDE ❜

♖. }

       It had been over a month and still no word on his GENEROUS PROPOSAL. The Councillor was a patient mech --- he always had been --- yet even he had limitations. Everything had been laid out plainly for the non-political Prime to understand, any halt in progress undoubtedly stemmed from his infernal bondmate, and her reservations towards the ‘uncharacteristic offer’. At least, so far as what his informants had told him.

                                          He would see to its progress personally, then.

Navy and gold shoulder pauldrons rolled with a slight crack, stiff and tense from the rigid posture. Neon optics flashed and with a few gentle raps of a balled servo against the partially opened door he peered inside with a hum.

❝ Apologies if I am interrupting you at all, Sir --- there was no Assistant’s desk, and the door... ❞ the raspy voice trailed off, replaced instead with an almost amused vent, ❝ You would not happen to have a moment to speak with me, would you? ❞

Whatever answer the Prime gave he had NO intentions of leaving. But of course, the other needn’t know that.

@oneshallstand

[elitaxne]

Guess whose sneaking in to give his beautiful wife some well deserved kisses and affection? Plus, he is sneaking in the usual booty grab. You're welcome.

♔. }

       Over the past few weeks such surprise attacks had become almost a COMMON occurrence, whether she were busy in the kitchenette preparing Energon, in her office, or even showering, the Prime always found an opportunity to strike. This time she’s getting ready for an interview, too focused on her reflection to notice the playful EM Field and warm mass before he’s upon her.

A quiet laugh rolled from her vocoder as the kisses and wandering servos take to their usual marks, the latter locking onto aft like heat seeking missiles would their target. Optics rolled the SECOND he made contact, teasing pulses endlessly prodding her mate in the bond.

Lithe arms wrap loosely around thick neck cabling, coming to stand on the tips of her pedes to optics nearly met at the same level.

❝ I rather like this new tactic of yours… ❞ Elita hummed, stealing a greedy kiss with a smirk. ❝ Reminds me of how we would greet each other after returning from long missions, ❞ she murmured against his mouth, capturing him in a longer and deeper kiss.

                                      Exactly like she had done those many years ago.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ HOLIDAY GETAWAY ❜

♔. }

       It had been a busy morning ( as most mornings in their dwelling were ) last minute arrangements and the few chores that needed to be accomplished before any vacation no matter how long always took time. While normally they would visit Earth for leisure around the holidays this year was different, an invitation from the President of the United States to a special Gala dinner honouring high-ranking military and political personnel and their families --- and by extension, the Autobot Commanders who had helped protect the sister planet, Earth.

Starburst had just left with Kaal and now all they need do was give the signal for the bridge, taking them directly to the designated base in Washington D.C. Both June and Agent Fowler ( continuing liaison with the Cybertronian counterpart ) were already waiting for them.

Elita finished stowing away freshly cleaned cubes, digits thrumming over the counter top expectantly, newspark pulsing with apparent excitement --- as if it knew today was a special day, silly thing.

❝ Sweetspark, are you ready to go? ❞ their schedule remained busy, as always. Upon arrival they’d meet the President as they were ( his request to see the aliens in their true forms prior to the Gala ), then shopping to pick out clothes for the event. Truth be told she was already exhausted but she suspected it to simply be another side-effect of carrying.

@oneshallstand

[elitaxne]

┊❛ CONSPIRACY ❜

♖. }

       ❝ If history is anything to go by I predict you will all be severely disappointed... Were something SUBSTANTIAL to have happened to either of them we would have heard by now, ❞ Councillor Merga drawled, taking another puff of his third cygar, flicking the ashy end into the collecting bowl. ❝ It is most likely the result of the virus that has been going around, and since she is BONDED with the Prime they rushed to Emergency to assure it would not affect him... ❞ he finished, expelling the bitter smoke from raspy vents.

❝ But, Merga, you weren’t there with her --- you didn’t see her. She looked like the Pit, worse than I’ve seen anyone afflicted with any virus, ❞ the younger mech continued, fidgeting with his stylus, ❝ If someone would’ve said she was dying I’d have believed them... ❞ he shivered, quickly taking a gulp of lukewarm mid-grade, trying to clear his processors of the sickly image.

❝ I do not think we would be lucky enough for that... ❞ a slightly older femme whispered to the same-aged Councillor beside her, who chuckled lowly with a knowing gaze. While their bets remained on a sudden spark-attack they knew better than to get their hopes up, Elita and Optimus remained unfortunately healthy mecha; plus hard to kill, they had survived the war after all...

Neon optics rolled at his colleague’s commentary, and Merga continued reading through his data pad with a dull even BORED expression. Everyone at the Towers had become mindlessly obsessed with the First Chair and Prime ever since Elita’s sickness a few hours ago. While their meeting had the intention of discussing the latest international trade proposal, it had been placed on hold --- along with the entire PLANET for that matter --- Cybertron came to a complete stop ever since news broke. And he couldn’t escape the madness despite his best efforts.

❝ Sh, sh, sh, quiet it’s back on !! ❞ an older mech cut in, waving the end of his cygar to Starburst at the opposite end of the table, ❝ Hey, Sweetspark, turn the volume up a bit will you? ❞

The red femme begrudgingly complied with a scowl, dragging a digit tip over the control screen just as the broadcast credits came to view. It took every ounce of strength NOT to leap across the table and defend Elita, but doing so would only make things worse --- her duty was simply to take notes for Elita if the meeting ever did occur. At least Merga remained civil, oddly enough, dutifully working on the trade proposal like they were suppose to be doing... at least, that’s what she assumed. Whatever it was he was reading and writing he seemed more invested in than the newscast.

[ Anchor ] >> For those of you just joining us here is the developing situation: Just before mid-day today Councillor Elita-1 fell violently and suddenly ill while in the Council Towers, and was promptly admitted to the clinic alongside Optimus Prime via Emergency Ground Bridge. <<

❝ Yeah, yeah, get to the good stuff. Is she offline or--- ❞

❝ SSSSHHHHHHH--- !! ❞

[ Anchor ] >> ... We have yet to receive any word on the Councillor and Prime’s condition, but sources close to the case report they have been moved to a private wing, specializing in spark health and safety, with Doctor Atria and her team. Again, if you are just joining us, we cannot confirm any diagnosis nor the Councillor and Prime’s condition, and have yet to receive confirmation on any current speculation. <<

Resounding ‘Awws’ filled the large meeting room as the frustration seeped from nearly every EM Field and filled the air like a thick fog. Starburst shifted in her seat, sharing a brief glance with Councillor Merga before peeling her gaze back to the screen. Hopefully, the silence on Optimus and Elita’s end of things was a good sign, but even then she didn’t know for sure. They had a healthy sparkling last time as well, but upon emergence was when things took a turn for the worse...

[ Anchor ] >> In the meantime we have our panel of experts weighing in from across Cybertron. On behalf of all of us at the station we thank you all for joining us. To start, what would you say given the current situation? <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Thank you for having me. First off I would like to say that from a Medical standpoint, it really is rather obvious what could have caused this. If we look at this not as an isolated event but over a course of time it’s easy to piece together the puzzle. There have been multiple reports speculating the Councillor’s slow decline in health. Colleagues have gone on record stating she has been working less and less, public appearances have declined from minimum to non-existent, and both her and the Prime have been frequenting the clinic for months leading to this event. <<

[ Expert 2 ] >> Pardon the interjection, but to your point: it’s also no secret that the First Chair had health problems prior to this. On her public records she is listed to have a degenerative disease --- stemming from the T-Cog --- but in some cases have been reported to link back to the spark chamber. <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Yes, exactly. But also keep in mind, being bonded to Optimus, who currently acts as host for the Matrix of Leadership, there was a rather large concern that the relic’s energies could prove benign, and over time, cause adverse affects on the second half of the bond. Mixed with pre-existing health defects it is not impossible to believe that perhaps the spark, over time, has simply dwindled on its own accord. <<

Merga swivelled in his chair to glance up at the large screen. ❝ Primus... ❞ he sneered, turning incredulously to his colleagues, ❝ Of course, you all realize that is HERESY, do you not? ❞ Immediate shushes met the strange words of protest and the elder mech went back to smoking his cygar, reading over his newest messages with a prickling field. He had at least done his part and tried to speak against things...

[ Anchor ] >> By those measures then, would you all say the Matrix itself is rejecting the bond and in doing so, inflicting the sickness? <<

[ Expert 3 ] >> I certainly would, it’s the only logical explanation. No one knows the full breadth of the Matrix power, nor the intricacies, and certainly being sparkmates with another is an unprecedented occurrence One that has NEVER before happened in the history of the Primacy. But here is what we DO know about the Matrix from the teachings... <<

Merga had completely tuned out the broadcast by now, tilting his data pad closer to the navy and gold chassis to better read the new message from his contact at the clinic.

          CONTACT > [ Preparing to move from observation room to surgery. ]           CONTACT > [ Our team has everything blocked. Press can’t get through. No leaks. ]             MERGA   > [ Is it as we suspected? ]           CONTACT > [ Yes. Medical team wheeled in two protoforms. ]

Ridges narrowed as neon optics flicked across the screen, fighting the sudden SPIKE in his spark-pulse though he was sure the apparent shock spilled briefly into his field.

           MERGA   > [ Singular extraction? ]          CONTACT > [ No. Overhead Atria; twins. ]

Merga felt his own spark LURCH into his intake, and he choked on his cygar --- though hardly anyone else in the room noticed or offered to assist in the wheezing, shushing him to listen to the broadcast. Slowly regaining his composure he managed a reply.

          MERGA   > [ Are you certain? ]         CONTACT > [ Affirmative. ]

                                Of all the unfortunate news to hear...

Merga stifled another hoarse cough, grinding his denta behind a hardened jawline with a force that nearly threatened to unhinge the joints. TWINS. Not one but TWO spawns of the Prime now sat between him and the Primacy, likely by purpose --- an extra addition to make up for the number they lost with Saiph. He certainly had to hand it to Optimus and Elita, assuring a safety cushion to their legacy with kin. A clever political move, and even larger commitment.

He --- and his trusted circle for that matter --- had all been banking on the possibility Elita had been carrying, but never did they think such would come to fruition with DOUBLE their expectations. Finishing off his cygar he blunted the end in the glass collecting bowl, taking it upon himself to dismiss the meeting, not that it mattered.

Neon optics flashed up at red plating, finding Elita’s young Assistant frozen in place, worry and apprehension etched on smooth fascia. Merga let his mouth twitch into a crooked grin, tipping his helm to the side as her large sapphire optics met his. She would be of use to him later, so of course, he remained cordial. The less she suspected him the better ( though he highly doubted such. Working so closely with Elita likely tainted her view of him ). It was a pity, really... Starburst seemed to be so competent and intelligent, he would’ve rather loved to have offered her a job in the future when --- Ah, well, in time perhaps...

Once out of the room he tapped at his comm, a familiar frequency, one that was expecting word from him...

                    ¦ ¦  The usual. One hour. I have a story for you...  ¦ ¦