The ashes of one's enemies
Log with Saeru's Megatron. Alternate universe ending of Cape and Cowl Starscream. Closed unless you uh, talk to us first about hopping in...?
NONCANON FOREVER~
Starscream sat in a throne at the top of a great spire in the center of what was once Portland, Oregon, but which he had now dubbed New Kaon. And he was no longer merely human.
Just under his skin one could see layers of circuits; his eyes were very clearly mechanical, and his ears had already been replaced by the familiar vents - actually auxiliary data storage, but who was counting. More telling, however, were the great, graceful wings which sprouted from his back, beautiful expanses of white painted steel.
They were a comfort.
And he smirked. He smirked endlessly.
Megatron was here.
Megatron was here.
He'd ruled for nearly three years now, slowly turning this pathetic corner of the United States into a vision of Cybertron. Technoorganics walked the streets now, transcended from their human state (his children, he thought of them now), walking over the lower castes of those who refused the implants, with great behemoths of those who had opted to fully convert into machines looming over them.
He remained partially human himself, mostly because he still had to deal with the outside world as a politician, now; but also because it amused him that he could still rule like this. That he could... be the lord of all this even from such a pathetic body.
Besides.
If he wanted to, he could shed it any time he wanted, like old clothes.
Megatron was here.
He'd ruled, but it had always felt empty. He'd always felt in some way that he needed to take that power with his own hands, be it by subtle treachery or by force. And he had taken it, but...
The symbolic gesture remained.
Megatron was here.
His coronation was at hand, then.
And this time, it would not be mere comedy.
NONCANON FOREVER~
Starscream sat in a throne at the top of a great spire in the center of what was once Portland, Oregon, but which he had now dubbed New Kaon. And he was no longer merely human.
Just under his skin one could see layers of circuits; his eyes were very clearly mechanical, and his ears had already been replaced by the familiar vents - actually auxiliary data storage, but who was counting. More telling, however, were the great, graceful wings which sprouted from his back, beautiful expanses of white painted steel.
They were a comfort.
And he smirked. He smirked endlessly.
Megatron was here.
Megatron was here.
He'd ruled for nearly three years now, slowly turning this pathetic corner of the United States into a vision of Cybertron. Technoorganics walked the streets now, transcended from their human state (his children, he thought of them now), walking over the lower castes of those who refused the implants, with great behemoths of those who had opted to fully convert into machines looming over them.
He remained partially human himself, mostly because he still had to deal with the outside world as a politician, now; but also because it amused him that he could still rule like this. That he could... be the lord of all this even from such a pathetic body.
Besides.
If he wanted to, he could shed it any time he wanted, like old clothes.
Megatron was here.
He'd ruled, but it had always felt empty. He'd always felt in some way that he needed to take that power with his own hands, be it by subtle treachery or by force. And he had taken it, but...
The symbolic gesture remained.
Megatron was here.
His coronation was at hand, then.
And this time, it would not be mere comedy.