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flipping-the-coin · 2 years ago

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[Audio file: #001 - Alpha Trion]

[Audio file of Optimus Prime: Security level = PRIME]

[Authorization detected… Confirmed]

[Audio playback commencing… Recording begins]

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I recently read one of Orion Pax’s personal journal entries and felt inspired to record my own thoughts on the subject matter in the hope that I might better understand my own… situation in a sense.

I would have been inclined to write these musings down if only to ensure that they could be kept in a more controlled documentation format. However writing has never been a particularly successful endeavor for me. When me and my host shared a frame, it was near impossible for me to write without pain since he could predict my thoughts and read the words I wrote down. Often he was displeased with my attempts to record my ideas, emotions, or considerations. Writing was merely a way to ask for suffering, so I kept from it as much as possible.

He could not hurt me for speaking, at least not as much since he was unable to predict exactly what I would say at any given moment. It certainly helped me to learn the ways of political and emotional manipulation, not that I am proud of that fact. I learned that if I warped my mannerisms and glyph usage to a degree, becoming more vague and leaving plenty of room for unsaid meaning, additional pain could be avoided. As much as my host seemed fond of causing me pain, he often did not bother hurting me while I spoke so long as I kept within certain parameters.

It is safe to say that the habit of speaking my thoughts aloud in this form has lingered, and I see no need to eliminate it. It is comforting to speak into the void as if another could hear me… it is easier to cope with reality that way…

With that said, when it comes to Alpha Trion, my views regarding him are… complicated to say the least. My memories have always been questionable, a fact that has become more and more prominent in recent cycles. Things come to me in tattered pieces and some memories are locked away from me entirely, unable to be accessed despite the fact that I can feel gaps in my recollections as starkly as I do the hostility from my host. I believe the Matrix may be involved, but that is beside the point.

The gaps in my memory notwithstanding, Alpha Trion holds a unique place in my mind and spark. I have vague recollections of a time long gone by, a vision of things that have since passed. I remember him speaking to me in a place where only stars hung overhead, calling me ‘brother’ and saying something about me having ‘a grand purpose’. He seemed younger in that memory, but I do not know where or when it is from. I remember a distant feeling of affection directed toward him, but it was a strange form of love, one that I only recall experiencing during my youth after my initial forging in the frame of my host.

In those tattered memories from the time when stars shone brightly overhead, Alpha Trion was kin, family in an odd sense, and a guardian to me. He was security and wisdom given form, a view I now find to have been somewhat misplaced.

To offer some context for any listeners, when I first came into being, all I knew for a blinding moment was agony, then complete adoration toward my host, before finally everything settled on a rather cold and calculating apathy toward that which was unrelated to my duty. At the time all I knew was that Cybertron’s children needed my aid and protection, that was all I was required to be aware of. It was a simpler time for me. Alpha Trion was there during my forging, and I recall quite vividly how he scooped me up as if I weighed nothing, threw me over his shoulder, and ran down a dark path as if his life depended on it. Looking back, his life very well might have. I remember the screams of agony from the priests who were there for my forging, the mecha who lingered in the shadows and watched in awe as I awoke.

I have yet to confirm my suspicions as I have not yet taken the time to speak to Megatron, but I believe he was there that cycle, and I am near certain he tore every last one of those priests and observers to pieces in his rage. I must have fallen into recharge somewhere along the path, as my next recollection was of me awaking once more, this time within the Primal Citadel, before its destruction of course. I believe that was the only time I ever entered that place. Something in me was terrified of that structure after what I went through there.

I have already stated that my memories are not exactly the most reliable. That fact becomes quite prominent here as I cannot recall what Alpha Trion put me through in full. I believe it was an attempt on the Matrix’s part to protect my mind and spark from corruption. However some things are clear to me amidst the fog. I knew Alpha Trion was my brother from the moment I came into being, it is the nature of Primes to sense others like us due to our rarity and common origin. To those who know the chill of the void and the warmth of Primus’s embrace, it is not difficult to locate those who have also seen the beginning of times. Thus, with that knowledge, I remember reaching out to Alpha Trion, searching for guidance from him as I could not seem to access my host.

However, instead of treating me with any degree of kindness as I flailed in confusion at being given a mortal frame and being unable to speak to my host, he gave me to the Elite Guard. Do not mistake what I am going to say following this as hatred toward the guard. No, if anything I pity those mecha who took me upon themselves in those early cycles of my functioning. When I was passed to them, I was cold, unfeeling, and did not at all care for others as I do now. The mind of a Prime… It is something I struggle to describe. I have unknowingly buried my nature quite deeply beneath memory and pain, but I know what I was, what I was intended to be.

With Alpha Trion observing, my fourteen elite guardsmen put me through vigorous combat, strategy, speech, and political training. It is all a large blur for me, as at the time I was still adapting to my host’s memory and attempting to soothe him, not understanding why he was so frightened and angry. Despite that, the aches of hydraulics and cables from long cycles of being pushed to the limit are a lingering sensation even now. I recall the hymns sung without end during my training in the dark halls as if it were my own spark singing them. I… I remember the confusion and the turmoil that burned within me as I struggled to find something to cling to amidst the storm of change.

The Matrix was quiet in those cycles. Upon consideration, I believe it was still adjusting to my presence and Orion’s aggression. Whatever the case, it offered little comfort, and reaching out to my host in a desperate attempt to seek affection yielded nothing. I see now that the way I expressed my desires was… frightening to a mortal. Primes have unique methods of communication that I did not yet know were unacceptable and likely only frightened my host further. Still, I made attempts, and when I received nothing back amidst the chaos, I reached for Alpha Trion, trying desperately to understand and to seek familiarity if not a chance to be soothed.

The cycle I went to him was a rainy one. Acid fell from the skies outside and looking out a window in the long dark halls revealed mecha running for safety. At the time, I felt nothing more than the slightest hint of concern before I continued on my way, eager to reach my destination. When I arrived at Alpha Trion’s office, I entered quietly and tried to ask him to help me, to explain and give me comfort in the only way I knew how. But when he stood to face me, I felt fear for the first time. He took my audial in his servos and tore my finial off, causing me to cry out on instinct, still unused to mortal pain. Energon fell from the wound and I remember being so confused, wondering why a fellow Prime would hurt me as I gazed down at where energon coated my digits from my attempts to staunch the bleeding.

“You are a Prime. A Prime does not show weakness or hesitation. Your duty is clear. The enemy must be destroyed and peace returned to Cybertron. Put these foolish mortal emotions aside and focus on what you were forged for, brother.”

That is what he said to me that cycle as tears fell from my optics. I did not return to him after that. I did not know why at the time, but I see now that it was because I was afraid. I did not wish to be hurt, so I trained with the guard until it was time to be deployed to the front lines to meet my Autobots with the false tale Alpha Trion gave me of my ‘acceptance’ of the Matrix and the ‘reforging’ it put me through.

He frightened me, and whatever else he did to me during my time at the Primal Citadel scarred me so deeply that even now I cannot recall all that came to pass in that place. I only spent perhaps three stellar cycles there, but it changed me, it snuffed the mortal emotions that I began to develop and kept me from trying to reach out to others in any significant capacity until Bumblebee came into my life. I do not know what Alpha Trion did to me… I do not think I want to know. But I am prone to believing that ripping off my finial was not his only crime against me. As I left that place and observed my frame for the first time in the quiet of my battle front quarters, I found quite a few additional scars, some looking to have come from a wide assortment of weaponry and others looking as if they were from claws.

I never returned to the Primal Citadel, nor did I ever wish to. My spark flared in fear whenever I considered the location, even now I am not yet content with whatever horrible atrocities befell me there.

Alpha Trion is my brother. I know that much. But… he was no friend, nor was he kind. He was cruel, and now as I learn more about my host, I have found he hurt Orion just as much, if not more than he ever hurt me. I will never claim to understand his motives, but his influence is everywhere. I struggle to see it amidst the storm within my mind and the Matrix’s constant whispers now that it is active, but sometimes I see his work in the way my guardsmen act. Sometimes I can sense the corruption he instilled as I observe my beloved’s total devotion to what he believes. Sometimes… I can see it in myself when I see the face I stole in the mirror and the sickening white of my optics that comes whenever I don’t want to feel… when I want to forget…

There have been no sightings of Alpha Trion or any indicator of his death. He has vanished, but I do not believe he is gone. If Alpha Trion is anything like me, he will not rest until his duty is done. I suspect he lingers, watching and observing somewhere in the dark, waiting for a chance to act again and move things as he sees fit. I am no fool, I can feel the fragility of my mind only barely held together by the affection of my lover, the adoration of my sparklings, and the soothing whispers of the Matrix. If Alpha Trion were to return…

I do not believe I would survive the encounter.

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[Recording ends.]

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #transformers prime au #two sides to a coin au #two sides supplemental writing #optimus prime #alpha trion #optimus prime audio files #orion pax #the matrix of leadership #cybertronian culture #tfp elite guard

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flipping-the-coin · 2 years ago

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[Audio file: #002 - Orion Pax]

[Audio file of Optimus Prime: Security level = PRIME]

[Authorization detected… Confirmed]

[Audio playback commencing… Recording begins]

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Where to begin with this subject matter… Orion Pax is, simply put, my host. That can have many meanings, so to define our terms, allow me to explain what exactly being a host entails.

To be a host to a Prime is a complicated situation that traditionally was always accepted by choice, usually by religious or ambitious mecha. Worthy mecha would willingly bear the Matrix, knowing that their duty would be to serve as Sire, guide, and moral compass for the newly forged Prime. Their frames would be given up to the new Prime to inhabit, and they would remain alongside their charge, teaching, guiding, and offering comfort in the manner of a regular Caretaker. They would then spend the remainder of their functioning tending to the Prime as a gentle whisper and voice of reason. Now on the surface that may sound harsh, but to those prepared to accept the burden, it is not the worst of fates. They knew what they chose, and in taking on the role, the Prime Sires gained incredible influence.

To elaborate on that statement, accepting the burden is to have a being such as myself forged in the image of the supplicant. That alone ensures that the Prime Sire is never forgotten as their face and their frame are made effectively immortal in being tied to the divine. To add to that, by being a Prime Sire, the host is offered the unique opportunity to directly influence the entirety of Cybertron through their charge. I often think the hosts of old Primes forgot their influence. I know that when I was young, if Orion had asked me for anything that didn’t go against my direct orders, I would have given it to him in a nanoklik. Even in such an instance, if he had been softer, kinder, and more convincing rather than aggressive, he might have even been able to have me see his point of view and cease my attacks against Megatron.

The hosts of Primes have more influence than any other. In fact, it is so extreme as to even leave me baffled. My circumstances are rather unique in that I am well aware something went wrong with my creation and upbringing. But the memories of my predecessors have told me quite clearly, that normally, the Prime adores their Sire more than any other mortal. That piece of information would explain why none save for myself have ever attempted to raise sparklings or take a Conjunx. They simply had no need with their host offering all the emotional comfort they could ever need. If I recall correctly, an Earth quote encapsulates the situation better than I ever could.

“The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.”

With all that said, Orion Pax was meant to be one such Prime Sire. Normally he would have been made aware of his situation long before accepting the mantle of being a host to a Prime. However… I have learned in recent cycles that Alpha Trion was the one responsible for Orion’s upbringing, and due to his influence, my host never learned what he was being raised for. It was cruel of my brother to treat Orion in such a way. Orion was a tool, he was treated as little more than one step on the grand stairway leading to success. His entire life was but one part of a greater whole, one that was intended to lead to my creation.

With that in mind, my feelings toward Orion Pax are… complicated to say the least. I know what he was meant to be, I know how he was raised, yet despite that, I struggle to not feel hurt. I know it was as much my fault that things ended up the way they were as it was his. Whatever affection I held toward him in my youth was stripped from me, instead leading to cold apathy and vague concern when it came to my host. I did not listen to him or his pleas, and so he punished me for it. I could not understand him, I was incapable of comprehending until it was far too late to change.

He fought for that which he loved just as I did. Our desires merely conflicted, and in turn led to agony for both of us. He wanted to be returned to Megatron, to have his frame restored to him, and to be able to live in a world where all are equal and free. I wanted to fulfill my duty, to protect my people, and to one cycle earn the right to have a life of my own, one not tied to all of Cybertron. Neither of us were granted our desires, not until now, and not in full. We could not speak, so I could not hear him when he tried to explain himself. I could feel no love for him as my Sire, so I did not heed his discomfort and suffering until it affected me. I could not access his memory which showed his darker past, so I saw no reason to listen to his cries for mercy when I was able to comprehend them.

Without communication, we both spiraled. We could not speak. We could not understand the other. We could not feel the agony we both endured. Because of this… we only hurt each other more. I kept him locked within me, desperate to fulfill my duty and be done with the wretched existence that haunted me. He in turn did all he could to make my life a living torment, constantly wracking my frame with agony in every conceivable form and punishing me for the slightest joy I found amidst the sorrow.

Part of me does not blame him. He was just as much a victim as I was in this grand scheme. But a selfish and more bitter part of me… a part of my spark I would never allow others to see…

That part of me resents him. That small shard of my being desperately wants him to love me, to care for me, and to give me affection for my good works. He has never once offered me such love or empathy. He has not cared to hear my side of things or to understand my position in our situation. He does not care for the fact that if I had given up the frame I inhabited for him to control… I would have been left trapped in a far worse place than he was. I would have had no voice, I am near certain he would have buried me deep and subjected me to suffering of his and Megatron’s spark merges. He would have hurt me and never let me be with the one I hold most dear. He would have taken all I am and stripped it from me, forever leaving me stranded alone, in the dark…

It is difficult to express my fears, especially since I know what I am. I was born of an unwanted union and my life built upon a throne of lies. I feared that if I let him gain control… he would tear everything down and I would cease to be, my memory wiped from reality. Was it so wrong for me to wish to live? I never once had a life… not really. I was born into duty and agony and was not given a taste of what it meant to be free. Orion Pax did not fare much better, but he had a time, a short moment where he could experience that bliss. I know how selfish and uncaring that sounds, but I want to live too. I want to have what he has and to know myself and what I want.

He hurt me. He tortured me for four million years and claimed it all to be my own doing. I know what he endured, I know what he suffered, and I know that the way I see it is not how he views his past. For me the pains he endured are nothing. Being kept under tight constraints serving under Alpha Trion is already the fate I have been condemned to, only instead I serve the people of Cybertron. Being punished for expression is not uncommon, especially with the Matrix. Being unable to reach for any sort of passion or pleasure… is a reality I know far too well.

I understand him. I have suffered similar woes. Still he blames me. Still he says that all the death was my fault. He does not care to listen to me, he says it is because I did not heed him. He does not understand what I am or my nature. How could he? He never loved me as his creation and he never will. I may have his memory, his face, his CNA, and his knowledge. I may do all I can to please him and to meet his standards. I may offer him the stars themselves…

But he will never love me. I will never be good enough for him.

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[Recording ends.]

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #transformers prime au #two sides to a coin au #two sides supplemental writing #orion pax #cybertronian culture #optimus prime #optimus prime audio files #the matrix of leadership

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