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31_days2005-11-14 10:17 am
amethystlight.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-11-14 10:17 am
[Nov 14] [G1 Transformers] Fahrenheit Nine Million
Title: Fahrenheit Nine Million
Date/Theme: Nov. 14 / Shedding light on fire
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Fahrenheight
Rating: G
The gangly, dull yellow Autobot sat staring at a screen in his private room, pouring over electronic scriptures and trying to make sense of what the others had presented to him. He was attempting to let this puzzle distract him from the fact that his body was currently just a raw robot-mode frame, most of his alternate mode armor removed for modifications -- something else that was a mystery to him, as no one had taken it upon his or her self to explain to him what his new vehicle mode would be. He was safe enough where he was, yet he felt a small degree of paranoia. It felt unnatural to be without the ability to transform.
He leaned his elbows on the console below the monitor and folded his hands together, leaning his chin on them. Ancient Cybertronian letters scrolled along the screen. He was educated in how to read them but their mystical phrases were not registering in his processor. The messages seemed too cryptic. Some part was missing.
"Balance," he muttered aloud, freezing the screen and peering closer at a certain set of lines. "That must be one key. The Light of the Creator answers to the Darkness of the Destroyer and vice versa...but something must balance them, also."
He cycled air through his intakes in a gasp and resumed the scrolling of the words. "There will be one other! Another Chosen..." Realization began to dawn on him. Did the others know this already, and was it why they had left him to read these texts? Was his new alt mode being prepared for this task? Dare he assume such..?
The communications panel beside the door beeped twice, then an authoritative voice said, "We are ready for you. Come to the designated room. Speak to no one until everything is done."
He triggered a remote code to respond with an affirmative. He was ever perfectly obedient to the letter.
***
Incindiary chemical production online.
A brief jolt along one relay.
Bypassing safety lock two.
Another jolt. He felt systems activate in his arms, energy flowing from a set of tubing that began in his shoulder compartments.
Connecting final program.
A corresponding system activated in his forearms. He became aware of an unfamiliar weight there. As feedback from a full system analysis entered his core processor he also noticed sensation from dozens of unfamiliar components. He had twice as many armor parts as he'd had before and additional subspace compartments. Twice the space for twice the modes.
"Triple-changer?" he rasped, vocalizer still calibrating. His optical input came online and he saw maroon slats at either side of his face. He sought the trail of feedback. A new helmet. Triangular wings extending along his back, their full length folded within at an angle. The split canopy of a jet now comprised his lower legs. The central hatch of a tank made up his torso, half the treads on his upper arms, the rest subspaced. The gun turrets were mounted on his forearms. That was the initial weight he felt.
Within his spark burned new certainty. It was his duty to seek the Two of the Prophecy and either aid them or destroy them if they proved unworthy, along with anyone else unworthy of the Prophecy and those who would facilitate the Coming of the Beast.
Date/Theme: Nov. 14 / Shedding light on fire
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Fahrenheight
Rating: G
The gangly, dull yellow Autobot sat staring at a screen in his private room, pouring over electronic scriptures and trying to make sense of what the others had presented to him. He was attempting to let this puzzle distract him from the fact that his body was currently just a raw robot-mode frame, most of his alternate mode armor removed for modifications -- something else that was a mystery to him, as no one had taken it upon his or her self to explain to him what his new vehicle mode would be. He was safe enough where he was, yet he felt a small degree of paranoia. It felt unnatural to be without the ability to transform.
He leaned his elbows on the console below the monitor and folded his hands together, leaning his chin on them. Ancient Cybertronian letters scrolled along the screen. He was educated in how to read them but their mystical phrases were not registering in his processor. The messages seemed too cryptic. Some part was missing.
"Balance," he muttered aloud, freezing the screen and peering closer at a certain set of lines. "That must be one key. The Light of the Creator answers to the Darkness of the Destroyer and vice versa...but something must balance them, also."
He cycled air through his intakes in a gasp and resumed the scrolling of the words. "There will be one other! Another Chosen..." Realization began to dawn on him. Did the others know this already, and was it why they had left him to read these texts? Was his new alt mode being prepared for this task? Dare he assume such..?
The communications panel beside the door beeped twice, then an authoritative voice said, "We are ready for you. Come to the designated room. Speak to no one until everything is done."
He triggered a remote code to respond with an affirmative. He was ever perfectly obedient to the letter.
***
Incindiary chemical production online.
A brief jolt along one relay.
Bypassing safety lock two.
Another jolt. He felt systems activate in his arms, energy flowing from a set of tubing that began in his shoulder compartments.
Connecting final program.
A corresponding system activated in his forearms. He became aware of an unfamiliar weight there. As feedback from a full system analysis entered his core processor he also noticed sensation from dozens of unfamiliar components. He had twice as many armor parts as he'd had before and additional subspace compartments. Twice the space for twice the modes.
"Triple-changer?" he rasped, vocalizer still calibrating. His optical input came online and he saw maroon slats at either side of his face. He sought the trail of feedback. A new helmet. Triangular wings extending along his back, their full length folded within at an angle. The split canopy of a jet now comprised his lower legs. The central hatch of a tank made up his torso, half the treads on his upper arms, the rest subspaced. The gun turrets were mounted on his forearms. That was the initial weight he felt.
Within his spark burned new certainty. It was his duty to seek the Two of the Prophecy and either aid them or destroy them if they proved unworthy, along with anyone else unworthy of the Prophecy and those who would facilitate the Coming of the Beast.