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Logic of Children
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“What are you doing?” Optimus’ question was incredulous as he looked out over the field that had once been covered in snow. Technically it was still covered, and trampled, apart from the stacked balls of snow, decorated with the very things most of the mechs were looking for.
Ratchet had been in a snit when he found his med bay raided for tools and supplies. Perceptor had emanated cold rage… everyone had assumed the twins were behind it even though they had matured past pranking since the end of the war. Well, that assumption ended when Sunstreaker came flying, raging about someone having stolen his paint brushes.
And here the things were, in the not hands of stacked snowballs…
“We’re building a snowman army!” the cheerful voice belonged to Snitch, Creation of Perceptor, Drift and Wheeljack, who looked up at him with a proud look on its still round face plates. Too young to have chosen a preferred gender designation, or displayed any te
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There was no sun anymore, only the endless star studded darkness. And the cold, as the planet was no longer heated by the caress of light.
Stories said it had happened before, that Cybertron had always ‘found’ a new sun. But who believed in stories these orn?
Doomsayers claimed this was a sign from Primus, or Unicron, that the Golden Age was at an end. Other said it had barely begun. Most held their glossa, waiting to see what happened now. What the great Council, the Prime and the Lord High Protector might do or declare.
The lack of a sun, of sunset and sun up did little to change the rhythm of Cybertronian society. The moons where dark spots in the sky instead of bright silvery orbs, but they were not dark, dark for they too had cities on them and looked like miniature versions of the space surrounding them.
The sun was still missed though… by those that lived on the surface.
Underneath it no one knew or cared that there was no sun anymore. They lived in the
Birthday Gift for XobitSniffing at the base of a tree, Optimus followed the scent of circuitpheasant. The stupid thing had a broken wing and it still managed to move silently through the underbrush. Shaking his head, he trotted forward, huffing softly as the scent grew stronger. He could hear it now, fluttering about weakly and giving its position away.
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Crouching down, he flicked his tail back and forth as he prowled forward. One step
Leaping forward, Optimus cleared the small bush and dropped onto the unsuspecting fowl. He felt the spine snap beneath his paws, followed by the startled squawk of a dying bird. Before he could even sink his dentas into the soft armor-flesh, his nose picked up the scent of spilt energon and he balked.
Whipping his head about, he scented the air in a panic. His mind produced an image of a thin, purple line leading him towards the source and he hurried to follow it. His fueltank was twisting about in fear as he charged through the underbrush; who was blee