Speedwriting Fill
Title: Untangle
Rating: K
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Sam Witwicky, Optimus Prime
Disclaimer: Don’t own
Prompt: 2. Sacred Space
After the barracks, Med Bay, and office buildings, the last things the humans of N.E.S.T. expected the Autobots to build was a temple.
The building was positively massive. Above the surface, it looked like no more than a large aircraft hangar. Below the surface…
The Autobots had dug down, laying the walls and foundations as they went, careful to not let the huge area flood, as they were on an island and they were digging below sea-level.
For months they worked on the foundations and walls. Then, when it was suitably large, they began decorating. Sunstreaker, one of the newly arrived bots, went to work painting, etching, and sculpting. Others helped place massive arches and mouldings against the walls and doors and colored tiles on the floor.
Slowly, it took shape. A circular center room, the floor designed in a spiralling, jagged, sun-like pattern. The humans that had been with the Autobots long enough -- Lennox, Epps, and a few others -- recognized it as a massive replica of the symbol they often used for their sparks.
Thirteen rooms branched off of the main one, each archway decorated in its own colors and design. Each room was circular, with the same spiral pattern on the floor, though each had its own peculiarities and specificities.
Lennox and Sam were the only humans allowed down into the building after the initial tour, but they did not visit often. It felt like trespassing for them, infringing on the sacred space -- for it obviously was sacred.
So, two years after it was built, the Prime was startled to get a comm stating that Sam was standing in the very center of the main room, non-responsive and unmoving.
The leader of the Autobots rushed from his office to the temple. Samuel Witwicky was, indeed, frozen, unresponsive, in the middle of the room, his muddy brown eyes glassy and distant, his body radiating far too much heat, though he was not sweating or panting or making any other indication of his elevated temperature.
“Sam?” the Prime said quietly, taking a half-step toward the human. The other mechs standing around the room watched with bright optics.
Sam moved slightly, slowly, as though he were trapped in molasses. He turned dull eyes to the Prime, then blinked.
His eyes, when he opened them, were glowing a pure, spark-blue.
“Optimus Prime,” he said, voice echoing through the chamber, sounding louder, more powerful, than any human voice had a right to be. It echoed with distinctly Cybertronian harmonics, the English words somehow carrying meaning in the alien language.
“Samuel Witwicky, a-”
“The human is fine. He is awake and aware, and conscious and allowing of my control of his frame.”
Optics all throughout the room blinked. “And you are?” Optimus said after a few long moments of staring.
A faint smile traced over the human’s face. “Come, Optimus Prime, do you not recall your old charge and sparkright?”
Blue optics flared and plating rattled. “My charge was the AllSpark, and was destroyed five local years past. My sparkright was the Matrix, which was lost centivorns ago.”
“Not lost. Hidden. In the AllSpark. Our combination resulted in confusion, which led to corruption in our absence. The Matrix is the guiding force of the Primes -- it keeps them honest and good. The AllSpark creates sparks only when it is necessary for the continuation of your race. In the confusion, there was no Matrix to guide the Prime, and sparks could be called forth at any time.
“You, Prime, were chosen by the Matrix and altered by means of an old student and follower, Alpha Trion, and placed in power before the Senate had a chance to choose another of their own corrupt, twisted Primes. You were always destined to receive the Matrix when such a time would come as it was possible.
“This world, however, was a slight setback. The AllSpark and Matrix were very close to separating when they were launched into space. Then their physical form was destroyed, thus setting their separation back farther again. However, there was a mode they could take to provide a sooner separation; one of the local life-forms was near enough to act as a host for the combined energies.”
“Sam.”
“Yes. Even unknowing of us, of what we are capable of, of what we are, he was willing, he was honest, a good mech -- man -- at spark -- heart. For the last five local years, we have been straightening our energies and untangling ourselves. It is now time for us to leave our kind host and become ourselves again.”
For a few very long moments, all was silence as the assembled mechs stared at the human with the glowing eyes.
Sam smiled softly after looking at each of them. “You have provided me with a home, now. The Matrix will assemble as a solid form for you, Prime, to carry, and the AllSpark will stay in energy form in this location. Should I ever need to move, I can again take refuge in a host.”
“You…”
“It is hard to understand, we know.”
And with that, Sam exploded. Light flared in wild spikes from his body, tendrils of the reaching energy dancing through the room before lowering, creating a swirling mass of pure energy that blanketed the floor. Slowly, bits drew back, and the energy slowly formed into the same spark shape the tiles showed below it. It flared brightly once again before sinking into the ground, fading slightly, until the spark design glowed with a faint, steady light.
Sam, who was lying in the middle of the glowing spark, stirred and groaned. “Ouch,” he said as he sat up and pressed a hand to his forehead. He blinked muddy brown eyes. “That was painful. And here, Optimus, I don’t want it anymore. It talks too much.”
From the hand still in his lap rose a spiked, swirled, glowing object that looked rather like a fancy cage with a small spark dancing inside.
Optimus took a hesitant step forward and reached out. The Matrix floated to his palm and flared brightly before he mechanically opened his chest plates and motioned it to his spark chamber.
For a moment, he bent over, clenching a hand over his now closed chest plating, a strained whine echoing from his vocalizer.
“Oh- Ratchet!” someone called, and the medic made to move forward.
“Wait!” a small voice called, and Ratchet hesitated, looking down at the human. “It’s fine. This is… It’s fine.”
Slowly, Optimus straightened. “Indeed, he is correct, Ratchet. I am fine. It was merely startling.”
The medic gave him a sharp glare and initiated a quick scan. Reluctantly, he stepped back again, finding nothing wrong.
Below them, the spark pulsed happily. Next to the Prime’s spark, the Matrix gave little joyful flares.
Finally, all was right in the world.
Rating: K
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Sam Witwicky, Optimus Prime
Disclaimer: Don’t own
Prompt: 2. Sacred Space
After the barracks, Med Bay, and office buildings, the last things the humans of N.E.S.T. expected the Autobots to build was a temple.
The building was positively massive. Above the surface, it looked like no more than a large aircraft hangar. Below the surface…
The Autobots had dug down, laying the walls and foundations as they went, careful to not let the huge area flood, as they were on an island and they were digging below sea-level.
For months they worked on the foundations and walls. Then, when it was suitably large, they began decorating. Sunstreaker, one of the newly arrived bots, went to work painting, etching, and sculpting. Others helped place massive arches and mouldings against the walls and doors and colored tiles on the floor.
Slowly, it took shape. A circular center room, the floor designed in a spiralling, jagged, sun-like pattern. The humans that had been with the Autobots long enough -- Lennox, Epps, and a few others -- recognized it as a massive replica of the symbol they often used for their sparks.
Thirteen rooms branched off of the main one, each archway decorated in its own colors and design. Each room was circular, with the same spiral pattern on the floor, though each had its own peculiarities and specificities.
Lennox and Sam were the only humans allowed down into the building after the initial tour, but they did not visit often. It felt like trespassing for them, infringing on the sacred space -- for it obviously was sacred.
So, two years after it was built, the Prime was startled to get a comm stating that Sam was standing in the very center of the main room, non-responsive and unmoving.
The leader of the Autobots rushed from his office to the temple. Samuel Witwicky was, indeed, frozen, unresponsive, in the middle of the room, his muddy brown eyes glassy and distant, his body radiating far too much heat, though he was not sweating or panting or making any other indication of his elevated temperature.
“Sam?” the Prime said quietly, taking a half-step toward the human. The other mechs standing around the room watched with bright optics.
Sam moved slightly, slowly, as though he were trapped in molasses. He turned dull eyes to the Prime, then blinked.
His eyes, when he opened them, were glowing a pure, spark-blue.
“Optimus Prime,” he said, voice echoing through the chamber, sounding louder, more powerful, than any human voice had a right to be. It echoed with distinctly Cybertronian harmonics, the English words somehow carrying meaning in the alien language.
“Samuel Witwicky, a-”
“The human is fine. He is awake and aware, and conscious and allowing of my control of his frame.”
Optics all throughout the room blinked. “And you are?” Optimus said after a few long moments of staring.
A faint smile traced over the human’s face. “Come, Optimus Prime, do you not recall your old charge and sparkright?”
Blue optics flared and plating rattled. “My charge was the AllSpark, and was destroyed five local years past. My sparkright was the Matrix, which was lost centivorns ago.”
“Not lost. Hidden. In the AllSpark. Our combination resulted in confusion, which led to corruption in our absence. The Matrix is the guiding force of the Primes -- it keeps them honest and good. The AllSpark creates sparks only when it is necessary for the continuation of your race. In the confusion, there was no Matrix to guide the Prime, and sparks could be called forth at any time.
“You, Prime, were chosen by the Matrix and altered by means of an old student and follower, Alpha Trion, and placed in power before the Senate had a chance to choose another of their own corrupt, twisted Primes. You were always destined to receive the Matrix when such a time would come as it was possible.
“This world, however, was a slight setback. The AllSpark and Matrix were very close to separating when they were launched into space. Then their physical form was destroyed, thus setting their separation back farther again. However, there was a mode they could take to provide a sooner separation; one of the local life-forms was near enough to act as a host for the combined energies.”
“Sam.”
“Yes. Even unknowing of us, of what we are capable of, of what we are, he was willing, he was honest, a good mech -- man -- at spark -- heart. For the last five local years, we have been straightening our energies and untangling ourselves. It is now time for us to leave our kind host and become ourselves again.”
For a few very long moments, all was silence as the assembled mechs stared at the human with the glowing eyes.
Sam smiled softly after looking at each of them. “You have provided me with a home, now. The Matrix will assemble as a solid form for you, Prime, to carry, and the AllSpark will stay in energy form in this location. Should I ever need to move, I can again take refuge in a host.”
“You…”
“It is hard to understand, we know.”
And with that, Sam exploded. Light flared in wild spikes from his body, tendrils of the reaching energy dancing through the room before lowering, creating a swirling mass of pure energy that blanketed the floor. Slowly, bits drew back, and the energy slowly formed into the same spark shape the tiles showed below it. It flared brightly once again before sinking into the ground, fading slightly, until the spark design glowed with a faint, steady light.
Sam, who was lying in the middle of the glowing spark, stirred and groaned. “Ouch,” he said as he sat up and pressed a hand to his forehead. He blinked muddy brown eyes. “That was painful. And here, Optimus, I don’t want it anymore. It talks too much.”
From the hand still in his lap rose a spiked, swirled, glowing object that looked rather like a fancy cage with a small spark dancing inside.
Optimus took a hesitant step forward and reached out. The Matrix floated to his palm and flared brightly before he mechanically opened his chest plates and motioned it to his spark chamber.
For a moment, he bent over, clenching a hand over his now closed chest plating, a strained whine echoing from his vocalizer.
“Oh- Ratchet!” someone called, and the medic made to move forward.
“Wait!” a small voice called, and Ratchet hesitated, looking down at the human. “It’s fine. This is… It’s fine.”
Slowly, Optimus straightened. “Indeed, he is correct, Ratchet. I am fine. It was merely startling.”
The medic gave him a sharp glare and initiated a quick scan. Reluctantly, he stepped back again, finding nothing wrong.
Below them, the spark pulsed happily. Next to the Prime’s spark, the Matrix gave little joyful flares.
Finally, all was right in the world.