AN: Sequel to the Blue Planet. Ekphrastic piece based on Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel Ceiling. For Meiza.
New to Transformers Universe. Tell me if anything seems remiss!
Throbbing, burning, pulsing curiosity gone.
It is replaced. By Awe.
Starscream places the Organic in my trembling palm-it is light, delicate, fragile…and…soft. Elastic membranes curve and dip, body, weight, pressure equalizing, conforming to the plates of my hand-
I scan in gentle X-rays, fearing lest I damage it, burn it. So small. So tiny. How easily it could be crushed, mishandled, injured in my now large, seemingly clumsy hands…
It curls up-frame not bending changing distorting from the gel-like outside, no, an endoskeleton! Hard, rocky, protective it covers the cerebral chambers, runs down the length of the spinal strut, forms a mesh-like, protective chassis over the beating, meaty Spark that rests in its chest…
From the thickness and structure of the supports and joints, the disproportionate length of upper and lower extremities I visualize-I know-it is Biped. What those flattened, lower extremities lack in dexterity they compensate to equalize the pressure, balance the weight, all on those two, tiny joints composed of small, bony fragments and long, tube-like coils of fluid filled tendon-
Gamma, now. A myriad of colors, heat signatures of scintillating reds and yellows, deep greens and blues-
Hands over the neck processes, lower limbs tucked neatly around the head-Instinct! It protects that part which is most susceptible-that abdomen bare of protection-and that which is most necessary-bright, red, frantic electric impulses surging down in brilliance from that bony chamber, up then down, down then up-
That Spark burns brilliant red, heat pulsing, pounding, pumping. It's systems in panicked, rehearsed overdrive-
Corrosive, basic lubricant leaks across my palm. A fear reaction-another instinct! Sensory scanners say the damage is trivial, paltry…disappearing. Poor beast. It has not many survival mechanisms…only those of defense. For life's harshness, it has not been hardily nor kindly equipped.
And yet it lives.
A life-form many had deemed impossible. And yet the atmosphere, the polar, expanding molecules of hydrogen and oxygen, the gravity of the planet, its distance from its burning, orbital star…and here it is. My life search, my answers, my vindication lies quivering in my open palm, Helpless. Weak. Insignificant…
Yet so Intricate. So Fascinating.
So Beautiful.