#alpha culture

[miscecanis-culture-is]

alpha culture is wanting a pack sooooooo baddd

.

[animentality]

[thomascott]

Fitness 🏋️‍♂️🏋️‍♂️

[bonefall]

If you’ve already answered this then no worries, but what would the typical clan cat lifespan be then (assuming they don’t die prematurely from injury/illness). Just curious as to how many generations have passed since the clan’s founding in the 80 or so years.

Clan cat lifespans can be pretty variable! They're considered senior warriors at 5, but if all works out their lifespan is often 16 years. Kittens usually enter the picture for a parent who is 2 to 8 years old, but they COULD have them anywhere between 1 to 15.

Clan cats play less attention to raw age than to EXPERIENCE, though. It is socially discouraged for a fresh warrior to become a parent, and you are NOT an adult until you're out of apprenticeship. They see age like this;

Child: Less than 6 full moons SEEN. If a kitten's eyes were not opened when the first moon of their life passed over them, that is not a month they were alive.

Adolescent: The amount of time you are an apprentice. Flamepaw was considered a child while his sister was an adult.

Young Adult: The first full year out of apprenticeship, when you've handled a full year on your own. A warrior is only eligible for an apprentice after this length of time, so by extension a cat COULD be a mentor around age 2 (BUT that's considered young. 3 is a better bet.)

Adulthood is even more variable, because you're usually not considered "aged" until you've had an apprentice or a litter and you're around 5 years old. Without either of those things, you often won't be considered a "senior warrior" until you're as old as 8.

So to answer your question directly, you can comfortably estimate a new crop of warriors about every 5 years, and full population turnover every 15. Between the numbers, 8 is a good estimation of how long it takes for a generation to pass

(Though I'm more partial to historic events and time periods than crunching numbers like that)

Elders can hang on for a LOOONG time though-- One-eye over in ThunderClan was a personal friend of Pinestar and witnessed the Crusades before passing away at the tender age of 20-something.

[ihhfhonao3]

Absolutely love watching the evolution of a “cringe content” YouTuber (as in, someone who does “commentary” on “cringe”) go from shitting on gen z to shitting on gen a.

All the comments are the same. Always. “As a part of this generation, I’m sorry for what we’ve done,” “as someone who is gen _, we do not claim them,” “as someone who is (age), I’m sorry for what we have done”

STOP. STOP IT RIGHT NOW. DON’T BE SORRY JUST BECAUSE OF YOUR AGE. DON’T LET PEOPLE CONVINCE YOU THAT YOU’RE WORTH LESS BECAUSE OF WHEN YOU WERE BORN. YOU’RE BEING INDOCTRINATED. AND IT WILL NOT END IF YOU PARTAKE IN IT.

Why does it never end. Why does nobody ever learn that your age is not always an indicator of who you are as a person. Why is it so normal to beat down on literal children. What did they ever do wrong

[i-am-trans-gwender]

Weird how much gen z mocks gen alpha even though we're not any better.

Example: Gen alpha saying Ohio doesn't exist is no different from when gen z use to say Wyoming doesn't exist.

[witchofthesouls]

AHHHH, I KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT!

Okay, I think the handling TFP/Aligned Orion Pax was weakened by the background inconsistencies that were supposed to ground his personality and motivations.

And that's why Orion Pax can come off as an asshole, weirdly tone deaf, or very naive, yet deep inside the revolution as a competent head.

It's as if the writers took so many cool things to prop up the guy, but let it compete with "How Orion Pax and Megatronus were Different" and made a mess.

And, depending on your view, it either was half-heartedly addressed or done masterfully.

Saltysaltdog did a really great analysis on Megatron's feelings of betrayal and humiliation of letting Orion Pax so close to everything, and it's found here: click

The biggest gripe I have with the whole thing with the characterization of Orion Pax is twofold: 1) the writers didn't leverage Orion Pax's unique, and let's be honest, precarious position, and 2) didn't expand deeper the fundamental differences that essentially broke Orion Pax and Megatron apart and started that catastrophic civil war.

The setup is there. Megatron and Orion Pax are distorted mirrors of each other. The major differences are driven by what was socially appropriate for them to consider as pathways.

The Cybertron that came to was deep in the grips of a well-established and well-entrenched caste system. In that kind of society, it isn't just money that decrees social mobility. The very hierarchy of the society is driven by cultural and religious norms on the "worthiness" of each group at various set levels. And from that "worth," it not only dictates the rights of the members in a caste but decrees the appropriate behavior and outlets as well as dictates how relationships between members of different castes are maintained.

So Orion Pax is a giant "FUCK YOU" to all of that. His very presence would have pissed off so many parties that isn't funny.

As in, I honestly believe he's alive because his initial seclusion from civilization had given him key skills and behaviors that saved his ass and Alpha Trion's personal care.

Yes. There would have been bullying. Yes. There would be complete resentment and hatred. Yes. There would have been social orstracism from his own colleagues.

Even individuals who are lumped with him as "caste climbers" or just sympathetic/pitying would have stayed away by the dangers of their own reputation being tainted.

"You're nothing but a bauble and an ornament. Merely a prized pet for Alpha Trion. One day, he'll lose interest, and that day, you'll go back to where you belong."

Orion Pax defied the appropriate ways of inclusion to their occupation and way of life. He doesn't have a frame or a specialized ability that's related to information. He has no achievements, no accolades, and doesn't even have a sponsored education from a prestigious university or any useful connections.

Orion Pax is both an outsider and a representative. He needs to be extremely mindful of everything: his words, his tone, his body language, his own work... are all subject to scrutiny.

(And it either shows his sneakiness that he's able to shake off all eyes when he descends down to the gladiatorial game, his ability to lie by omission or obfuscation, or his colleagues relief with him out of sight.)

That very grey area would have left deep impressions on him. It would explain his passiveness, the perceptiveness, the way he speaks, and the careful plans he quietly does by the sides in a need-to-know basis.

Violence can come in many forms. And in a world where your worth is tied to your caste, then Orion Pax should be deeply familiar with the various ways it can be soft, sweet, and utterly insidious. A velvet wrapped steel glove. A dagger from the shadows. A poisonous treat. A deal of bad faith. A betrayl from a kind face.

Remember: Ratchet went through the proper channels and with the appropriate frame to match his function. Of course, he has that shield against so many grievances and injustices as well as many prejudices that color his perceptions. Look at the differences in how he recounts the brotherhood between Megatronus and Orion Pax and the outcome of before the High Council.

Orion is both given privileges that Megatron and his cohort wouldn't have, but it's also a noose around his neck. He is severely handicapped by Alpha Trion's deliberate meddling to keep the reincarnated Thirteen/the Matrix's newest Prime nearby and simultaneously well-informed and in the dark.

Unlike the miner-turned-gladiator, Orion doesn't have that option for bloodsport. His too low-caste for the avenues of security by the high-caste, but too high-caste to partake in the low-caste culture. It's acceptable for them to be physically violent, to be in bloodsport, to solve their grievances with their fists.

It's vastly different to the complete ruination of an individual's life that Orion got thrown into the deep end: reputation, finances, personal and professional relationships, involuntary reformat... The power games of the higher-castes are completely different ball-game.

He's stuck with his own thoughts because there's no way he can voice doubts to Alpha Trion (the mech who gave him such a position, advice, and unrestricted access to the archives) nor to his colleagues (who either hate his guts or would sell the information because information is power and the Hall of Records is a major point of power).

Look at the people he attaches himself to. They're rather straightforward: Megatronus, Ratchet, Jazz, Bumblebee, Arcee...

He's drawn to their ease yet still holds himself in a certain degree of formality because that's how he managed to survive in a snake pit. And that's too deeply ingrained into him at that point. People read that negatively. Megatron once saw that but didn't understand what it truly meant. Megatron saw his willingness to give up so much and his privileges, but he didn't understand the extent of the scars that Orion mentally and emotionally has.

Ratchet would be one of the few that really perceives that. The medic may not fully understands but he keeps trying, and the war eventually breaks down the barriers.

It would make so much sense about his strange notions, why he doesn't allow Megatron explore "his" world, why he keeps everything to himself, why he relatively comfortable with others outside his "caste."

This guy would literally ruminate the entire work day (both legal and subversive) until he fell asleep after rechecking the locks 27365837 times so an assassin or unfortunate "pet" didn't come into his room.

This could explain why he basically highjacked the damn meeting. Orion Pax has unrestricted access to many records. He knows his history. He can read between the lines. His A-game was on, especially in this endeavor.

Was it a well-intentioned plan to draw fire to himself because he had Alpha Trion’s strange degree of protection compared to the others? Was it panic because he knew all the ways to kill a person until death was mercy? Was it Plan 27-b because he thought all the ways it could go wrong? Was it his well-honed instinct demanding him to divert and pacify, but careful with the words (soft and fluttering with hidden danger with what is unsaid) to keep avenues open because to have the Primacy bestowed upon them would be an honor and completely legitimized the movement? Did he see the noose closing around Megatron and couldn't bear witness to have it strangle him, too?!

There's so much going on here. It all hinges on cultural absorption and clashes and the meddling by an ancient fart of an oracle, and it's just so tragically fascinating.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Smokescreen angst where he missed Alpha Trion >:).

Coming right up anon! Yall really like seeing my boy Smokey go though The Horrors don't you? Maybe I need to right a horror one shot with him since I've done Bee.

You know what? Imma link this to the previous Smokey angst. Lets make an AU for it. Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The night was longer on Earth. At least, it felt long to Smokescreen when he stood guard.

He hadn't actually been ordered to stand guard, but Smokescreen had taken the job upon himself after arriving on the world of dust and dirt he now found himself walking. Waiting in position was familiar, and comforting. Especially since late at night, he often got the chance to perform his familiar duty of shadowing the Archivist.

"Smokescreen." The Archivist regarded him simply. Smokescreen took that as his cue to join him in his walk to the console. The dim light of the device was soothing in the quiet atmosphere of the base, especially as the Archivist stepped up to his place and sighed. It was deep and tired, the Archivist's vents long worn from millennia of functionality. Smokescreen smiled at the familiarity, especially as the Archivist began to type with speed reserved for those raised within the halls of Iacon's most prestigious institute.

He would have loved to mingle with the Archivist and his fellows back during the golden age. Sure, it had it's problems, but it was a time of learning and change. It was a time and a world he never had the chance to know. In a way, he envied the Archivist for having had the opportunity to live an arguably normal life before the war began in earnest.

He settled himself a few feet away from the console to watch the Archivist and ensure nothing happened to him during his work. His fans slowed and he stood with his arms hung loosely by his side. Before his change of scenery, the Archivist would normally assign him a datapad to read.

He had no such luxuries in his new station.

Still, in the quiet it was easy to forget and imagine that shelves filled with datapads surrounded him as he watched the Archivist work. The tapping of digits on the console, the faint green glow of the device, and the periodical tick of a file completed were all easy for Smokescreen to lose himself in as he stood at attention.

Time passed, and as it did, he found himself longing to request permission to go read something from the fiction section. Conquests and old wars. Heroes and Primes long dead. He always loved those stories. Maybe if he asked kindly, the Archivist would let him wander off for a bit. He looked busy, and his features were largely obscured due to the way the light hit him. Surely he wouldn't notice if Smokescreen fell into a good story for a while. The night was long, and a datapad would keep his tired optics from shuttering until he was released from his watch.

"Hey, Trion, could I read something in the historical section for a bit? It's hard to stay awake standing around like this." He rubbed around his optics, hoping the touch would force his vision to focus. Through blurred optics, the Archivist's plating shone a familiar purple. But as the Archivist turned from his work in confusion and began to approach, Smokescreen saw for the first time that night just who he was looking at.

The Archivist turned Prime. Red and blue bound together in firm plating designed for war and conflict. Bright blue optics that shared the same wisdom as the Archivist Smokescreen was used to serving. Powerful arms and long thin digits perfectly sculpted for handling delicate data.

This Archivist was not Alpha Trion.

"I'm sorry! I got confused for a minute..." He trailed off as those optics met his. The Prime said nothing for a moment. It was a suffocating silence as both of them seemed to stew in the maelstrom of memory that came from their respective times in the Iaconian Archives.

They came from different eras, but they shared one thing in common.

Alpha Trion.

Sweet Primus, he hadn't realized just how much he missed the quiet of the Archives or the thoughtful mumbles of the Master Archivist.

"There is no shame in missing one who you hold dear." Optimus spoke slowly, almost as if he was forcing his voice to remain steady.

"I too miss my master." The Prime vented deeply, and for a moment, Smokescreen saw a younger mech. Optimus seemed so very pained in the dim light of the console. His optics were wider and more emotive. His field was clamped close like all Iaconians, at least according to the records. Even his posture seemed softer, lacking the air of the firm commander long used to death and destruction.

He looked like a simple data clerk.

For a moment, his expression mimicked Smokescreen's.

"He taught me a lot... I miss hearing him ramble on about everything under Luna 1." He found himself opening up as Optimus's field crept around his own, pulling him in. Before he knew it, his frame moved of its own accord until he was only a foot or two away from the towering Prime.

"Alpha Trion was fond of the old tales. I spent many long nights reading accounts from the last generation to have lived before the Quintessons arrived." Optimus stared at the console as his optics cycled wide. He seemed lost in memory as he smiled softly.

"My master was not pleased to see me engrossed in something other than my work." The Prime's digits hovered over the console keyboard, almost in a contemplative manner. Smokescreen found his field opening on instinct. He couldn't help but the sense of companionship that flared in his spark as he watched the mighty Prime speak so freely to him.

"I get that. Trion caught me with my face stuck in a novel all the time." He admitted his own guilt with a quiet laugh. Optimus raised an optical ridge in surprise, but he otherwise remained unreactive. His field rippled in comforting waves, washing Smokescreen's worries away as the Prime questioned him.

"You read novels?"

"Yeah, uh, I like historical fiction." He rubbed the back of his neck guard guiltily.

"Primes, heroes, great champions and all that. I don't think Trion approved of my choice of literature." He fiddled with his digits, unable to meet Optimus's optics. All those vorns in the Archive, wasted reading silly novels. He really should have taken more care back then. But he wouldn't have traded the passing moments he shared with Alpha Trion for anything.

"He never stopped me reading while I was supposed to be on watch, but he did snatch my novel and give me more suitable material a lot." He remembered vividly the way the Master Archivist would sigh and take away the novel he was reading when on duty. Generally speaking, what he was given in return didn't peak his interest. But whatever he read, he remembered. Maybe because the Master Archivist tended to stare daggers at him when he was caught trying to reach for a novel after being caught.

It was a fond memory for him. He didn't expect Optimus to laugh so boldly as he processed what Smokescreen had said.

"That sounds like my master." The Prime smiled wide, and Smokescreen could see the sincerity in his optics as he did so. It stunned him to see such emotion on the normally stoic Prime.

"I cannot count the number of times he shut down the datanet in my sector when he caught me speaking to Megatronus. He always told me that my actions were dangerous and that strangers should not be trusted." Optimus's laughter died off as he reminisced. Smokescreen could hardly comprehend the very idea of Optimus being young and chatting with strangers on the datanet like it was the greatest sin a mech could commit. And yet as he looked at Optimus, he could imagine the Archivist looking around warily before frantically swapping tabs to send a swift message.

He could just as easily imagine Alpha Trion appearing out of the blue to press the power button. Smokescreen had been on the receiving end of such treatment before. Yet another experience they shared.

"He cared deeply for each of his students." Optimus's voice was soft, wistful. Smokescreen's spark panged in loss. Optimus really was the perfect student. He could imagine how much Alpha Trion cared for the Prime. Sure, he'd done some things in his youth, but he was wise, powerful, and more knowledgeable than half the Autobots combined. How could he not be Alpha Trion's favorite?

"I bet he really cared about you. After all, you did become Prime." His tone was more bitter than anticipated. He was going to apologize, but a firm servo on his shoulder stopped him before he could.

"Do not sell yourself short, Smokescreen. I can tell my master cared for you as well." A smile greeted him, and Smokescreen remained stunned as the Prime leaned down to mostly match his height.

"The ease in which you carry yourself, the knowledge you possess, and the fondness in your tone tells me that he treated you kindly." The Prime's field wrapped around him warmly, like a hug from the gentlest of giants. Tears gathered in his optics against his will as the Prime met his gaze with understanding.

"Our master did not offer his affection easily." His venting hitched as he registered Optimus's words. The Prime brought him in for a hug as sobs overcame him. To know that Alpha Trion cared? It eased an ache he didn't know he suffered from.

He missed the Master Archivist. He missed the quiet moments they shared and the reprimands he received for slacking off. He regretted being unable to save him, for both his and Optimus's sake.

By the time he calmed, Optimus had been humming a soft tune for a while. It felt familiar, likely from the Archive. He appreciated it.

"I still carry a few novels in my hab. If you would like them, I will give them to you." The offer came gently as Optimus pulled away. He Prime kept his servo on Smokescreen's shoulder, guiding him toward the hallway leading back to the team's habs. Smokescreen could break away if he wished, but the offer was there, and he found himself eager to follow the Prime as Optimus edged in the direction of the hall.

"You read novels too?" He could hardly believe it, and yet based on what he now knew about the Prime, it seemed in character for him to indulge in stories rather than documents cycle in and cycle out. Every mech needed a chance to unwind, even Primes.

"You are not the first student that Alpha Trion had to steal unregistered reading material from." Optimus smiled again, and this time, Smokescreen smiled with him as he followed the Prime dutifully. Their fields mingled in a companionable way and he relished in the joy of being with a fellow student of Alpha Trion, no matter how great the age difference.

"I have a small collection of works I saved from the datanet before it fell apart. One of my favorite series is amongst my small collection." Optimus's voice was filled with joy as he walked the halls, Smokescreen at his right side taking long strides to keep up.

"What's it called?" He asked, eagerness filling his field. How long had it been since he'd read a novel? He was sure that it had been a few centuries at least, even if most of that time was spent in stasis.

"Sunburst, Explorer of Crystal City." The Prime seemed truly excited to share his work as he entered his hab and pulled a box out from under his berth. Smokescreen hovered around, watching as the box was placed on the hard surface and its contents revealed. There were at least a dozen scuffed up datapads all arranged in alphabetical order just like Alpha Trion always preferred his work to be organized.

"Historical fiction?" He guessed hopefully. Optimus smiled knowingly as he pulled out what Smokescreen could only assume was the first datapad in the series.

"Yes. It is written from the perspective of a scientist attempting to find old relics within the abandoned city of the Primes. It is quite a fascinating read. I think you may enjoy it." The datapad was pressed into his waiting servos, and Smokescreen did not hesitate to smile as widely as he could. His spark flared in joy at the familiar surface of the datapad, and he didn't feel at all awkward when Optimus pulled him out a chair to sit on.

Optimus felt more like a friend as they sat together, Optimus on his berth and Smokescreen on a chair, both reading novels written in an age without war. There was probably work they could both be doing, but as the night continued on, neither of them made to move. They were content.

And just for a little while, Smokescreen was happy to pretend he was back in the Archive, resting and relaxing with a friend while he waited for Alpha Trion to come snatch his datapad away.

[anonymouscheeses]

skibidi toilet but with charlie’s head😘😍

Silence woman, she's mewing

[proudsnackeezowner]

Yeah hey throwback to when dan fully bought this for phil

Viewers pick my birthday presents my ass dan you're not slick

[miscecanis-culture-is]

caring alpha culture is having a warm amber and cinnamon scent - its my favorite cologne hehe :>

i hope something good happens to you today!

peace and love,

chrome

thank you !!

[bli-o]

Ok. ok. fellow Gen Z’ers. guys. gen alpha is like. 13? now. They’re starting to join the internet and we’re experiencing the first taste of not being “with the times”. but guys. We have a mission: BE NICE TO THEM. DONT BE DICKS TO THEM. TREAT THE YOUNGER GENERATIONS GOOD.

[compaculaaa]

Local mechanic tries to explain to the king and prime minister about organic culture 4089 colourised

(Click for better quality)

[thomascott]

Shower time 💦🌈🥵

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

HORRIFIC REALIZATION

I just solved why iPad kids exist and why people hate them

ITS FUCKING ABLEISM AGAIN, ITS MOTHER FUCKING ABLEISM!

holy shit how did I not figure this out it should have been OBVIOUS, it’s literally repackaged autism hate.

remember the shit people keep complaining about?

“They don’t understand social cues” “they don’t talk” “they are mute” “they only like skibidi toilet” “their attention span is so short” “they are loud” “they don’t like people” “they yell and scream”

all that shit, and more they keep saying.

oh my actual fucking god, they don’t care about the kids they just hate neurodivergent kids.

listen tho, listen to me.

I’m autistic/adhd, I used to yell and scream and meltdown, I used to be mute, I have a “short attention span” I am all those things. And I used an iPad, but I was all those things prior, I had always been.

There is no such thing as “iPad kid brainrot” ITS MOTHER FUCKING UNDIAGNOSED NEURODIVERGENCE!

IT ALL MAKES FUCKING SENSE THO?!

It all makes SENSE, oh my actual god how the fuck did it take me so long to figure it out.

you may think I;m crazy but think about it for a minute, just please think.

the rise in autism and neurodiversity awareness, the rise of dignosis in women and children, and acceptance.

and also the fact that neurotypical people can pick autistic and neurodivergent people out immediately, and how they are reacting to iPad kids.

like think about it, it makes mother FUCKING SENSE!

why all of a sudden? Why not before? Why is there this burning hatred for these kids?

like it’s because they are the undiagnosed kids, they are the mentally ill kids, they present like this, I should know!

I KNOW LITERALLY LIKE 3 OF THEM! Personally and closely

AND HAVE MET AND DISCUSSED WITH LIKE 200+

you guys it all makes sense!

why it felts so icky to me, the demonization, and generalization.

just it clicks together now.

like holy shit, it makes so much sense.

[saltysoulbean]

I NEED more, I’m so ready to forfeit my first born child to whoever makes more