Time
Title: 'Time'
Rating: PG
'verse/series: G1 (for simplicity)
Warnings: none, hinting to char. death.
Summary: ign. refer to title/notes:
Notes: I lost the original dabble for this. . .which I thought was far more epic, somewhat. So I just jotted down what I remembered in whatever order. It originally was suppose to focus on the idea of alternate universes that the tf fandom has to deal with through Vector Prime and around the Generation One Universe (the cartoon).
Note: I find Vector Prime's perdiciment as (imo) more servant to time than master intriguing. Have to thank Balancing Act for that. . .somehow.
Mood setting music:
Click:
I sit here watching the small blue planet before me slowly drift by just content to do so. At first glance, it appeared to be just like any other planet I had come across before. Quiet and calm seemly just another unsentient baring rock sphere. At second glance though his planet, is different. . .special. It's one of the rare ones in the many galaxies that I've traveled through in my time.
It contains life for one.
It contains a vast and complex ecosystem from its salt waters to the avians that glide through its air streams. This planet is old and has already gone through billions of years worth of change. The life it has grown and nurtured most recently though, is young and naive still. Yet they have come so far in such short time that they have been around, which has not been long. It is a impressive feet for a sentient race that hasn't been around for very long. Despite this, already so much has happened to reshape their history.
~~~
It's a funny thing really. Time. I have the power to control time, yet my abilities to use them are quite limited. Some believe you change time and it be just that simple. It is not. You cannot take time and just change it, it's to delicate for that. And tempermental it would seem. One false calculation and you could change something whether it be the past or the future, good or bad. There is a far more higher chance the change will be negative.
Sometimes I am forced to remain at the side lines, far away yet still in visual distance, and do nothing as a planet, planets, or even solar systems' die. . .much like this one. That happens more often than I care to remember. Unfortunately it is not very often that I am able to intervene, and yes, I have on occasion intervened when I shouldn't have.
I have watched planets, much like the one before be now, die and not be able to do any thing about it.
~~~
This planet is special.
In all the multiple universes' I have visited in my time this one is one of the ones that is the oldest. Remaining closes to its original form. Unscathed by. . .outside forces. All the other's seem to return back to their homage in tribute. But right now despite how special it is, it is going through a time, one that will remain many of its inhabitants minds for years to come, as its darkest hours. Like the saying goes though; when one door shuts another one will open in its place. A new book with fresh pages. This one just opening to its beginning chapter and doesn't even know it yet. For me; it is a bitter sweet moment.
I sit here, optics dark, feeling time passing around me, feeling the changing fluxes on the planet's surface through the hands of.
Waiting.
I online my optics feeling sorrow now. I don't look around me, at my sides even though I can feel the presence of something that would have a normal person upset. At either of my sides one black one white, fog-like substance like flowing silk cloaks seeps around me on the large asteroid I've taken rest on. They're like creatures all their own, moving despite no wind or air around them with edges similar to clawed grabbing hands eager for something I could no say.
Out of the black and white fog two mech-like forms take shape, both identical to the other except in color. Silent, calm, serious, and unyielding any secrets they may posses. Almost like living statues. The black one speaks even without a visible mouth.
". . .He has passed into the Matrix," it/he states faintly.
I don't have to ask whom, I know. Nor how, because I know that as well. Sometimes being the master of time isn't always a gift. It's one I've long since accepted, both as a gift and a curse. A burden of sad reality on my shoulders.
The white one speaks next, voice distant. " At the moment," it begins "you are the last Prime, Vector."
What an odd fact. I find the statement odd. Not because it's a fact. I already know this, but because absent. . .idle chat. Life and Death did no 'idly chat' or speak of something repeatedly when it is already known.
"Yes. . .at the moment."
Rating: PG
'verse/series: G1 (for simplicity)
Warnings: none, hinting to char. death.
Summary: ign. refer to title/notes:
Notes: I lost the original dabble for this. . .which I thought was far more epic, somewhat. So I just jotted down what I remembered in whatever order. It originally was suppose to focus on the idea of alternate universes that the tf fandom has to deal with through Vector Prime and around the Generation One Universe (the cartoon).
Note: I find Vector Prime's perdiciment as (imo) more servant to time than master intriguing. Have to thank Balancing Act for that. . .somehow.
Mood setting music:
Click:
I sit here watching the small blue planet before me slowly drift by just content to do so. At first glance, it appeared to be just like any other planet I had come across before. Quiet and calm seemly just another unsentient baring rock sphere. At second glance though his planet, is different. . .special. It's one of the rare ones in the many galaxies that I've traveled through in my time.
It contains life for one.
It contains a vast and complex ecosystem from its salt waters to the avians that glide through its air streams. This planet is old and has already gone through billions of years worth of change. The life it has grown and nurtured most recently though, is young and naive still. Yet they have come so far in such short time that they have been around, which has not been long. It is a impressive feet for a sentient race that hasn't been around for very long. Despite this, already so much has happened to reshape their history.
~~~
It's a funny thing really. Time. I have the power to control time, yet my abilities to use them are quite limited. Some believe you change time and it be just that simple. It is not. You cannot take time and just change it, it's to delicate for that. And tempermental it would seem. One false calculation and you could change something whether it be the past or the future, good or bad. There is a far more higher chance the change will be negative.
Sometimes I am forced to remain at the side lines, far away yet still in visual distance, and do nothing as a planet, planets, or even solar systems' die. . .much like this one. That happens more often than I care to remember. Unfortunately it is not very often that I am able to intervene, and yes, I have on occasion intervened when I shouldn't have.
I have watched planets, much like the one before be now, die and not be able to do any thing about it.
~~~
This planet is special.
In all the multiple universes' I have visited in my time this one is one of the ones that is the oldest. Remaining closes to its original form. Unscathed by. . .outside forces. All the other's seem to return back to their homage in tribute. But right now despite how special it is, it is going through a time, one that will remain many of its inhabitants minds for years to come, as its darkest hours. Like the saying goes though; when one door shuts another one will open in its place. A new book with fresh pages. This one just opening to its beginning chapter and doesn't even know it yet. For me; it is a bitter sweet moment.
I sit here, optics dark, feeling time passing around me, feeling the changing fluxes on the planet's surface through the hands of.
Waiting.
I online my optics feeling sorrow now. I don't look around me, at my sides even though I can feel the presence of something that would have a normal person upset. At either of my sides one black one white, fog-like substance like flowing silk cloaks seeps around me on the large asteroid I've taken rest on. They're like creatures all their own, moving despite no wind or air around them with edges similar to clawed grabbing hands eager for something I could no say.
Out of the black and white fog two mech-like forms take shape, both identical to the other except in color. Silent, calm, serious, and unyielding any secrets they may posses. Almost like living statues. The black one speaks even without a visible mouth.
". . .He has passed into the Matrix," it/he states faintly.
I don't have to ask whom, I know. Nor how, because I know that as well. Sometimes being the master of time isn't always a gift. It's one I've long since accepted, both as a gift and a curse. A burden of sad reality on my shoulders.
The white one speaks next, voice distant. " At the moment," it begins "you are the last Prime, Vector."
What an odd fact. I find the statement odd. Not because it's a fact. I already know this, but because absent. . .idle chat. Life and Death did no 'idly chat' or speak of something repeatedly when it is already known.
"Yes. . .at the moment."