A/N: These are five short introspective stories centered on the theme: motion. They're told from the 'bots from the '07-movie point of view. If I did it right, it should be obvious which story is told from which point of view, because I don't mention any names. Please tell me if I succeeded or not =)
(Bear in mind English isn't my mother language, so please notify me of any grammar or spelling mistakes. Spell check said everything is okay, but you know how reliable those are.)
If there was one thing that could be said about the Earth, it was always in motion. In 365 ¼ days the planet orbited around Sol, making the weather change from searing hot to snow so cold he wasn't sure he could transform without shattering his old joints like glass.
And when it wasn't snowing or a clear blue sky, it was rainy or gloomy or cloudy or some other word ending in –y. So many words to describe evaporated water in the sky he still mixed them up, earning him some funny looks from the inhabitants of this planet.
Why they insisted on talking about the weather so much escaped him. Maybe because it was ever-changing, never the same.
Even his war-hardened optics could appreciate the fluffy white skywater. Every tuft of wind created new formations, and coupled with the visible UV-rays from Sol he had witnessed some amazing displays. He'd secretly made a recording of the sky on June 15, and kept it in his memory banks in the folder of 'things why I keep this old body going'.
Layers upon layers of evaporated had hung lower over the property of the Lennox's, but the wind had poked holes in the vast expanse of whitegray. Through these windows there'd been cumulonimbus clouds, gray at the bottom but blindingly white at the top.
They reminded him of the Crystal Towers on Cybertron in its golden days. The first time he saw the Towers, he was a small youngling, staring up through the smog. A Seeker trine had disturbed the smog with their turbulence, and the goldenwhite light of the Towers had shone down on those not fortunate enough to be Tower-mechs.
When looking up, it was as if there was a whole other world, just beyond reach and gone the moment you scanned it. It was a world untouched by war and death, because it'd just fall apart and reform somewhere else.
All too soon the wind had forced the clouds together and the ancient mech was once again deprived of the unattainable peace.
And yet, every raindrop on his windshield, every mini-tornado as he drove through fog, it all meant this planet was alive. It was in motion.