Title:
Noctis et Diei
Author:
Darkfireblade aka Hellsfirescythe
For:
28 Perceptors prompt "Book-reading Perceptor"
Fandom:
TF: G1
Rating:
G
Characters/Pairings:
Perceptor
Summary:
The Earth really is a strange place.
Notes/Warnings:
n/a
There wasn't any night on Cybertron. In fact, such a thing rarely ever occurred. The explanation for such an 'oddity', as most organics were quick to call it, was quite simple actually: there was no sun that Cybertron could orbit around, thus eliminating the thing organics termed 'night' and 'day'.
Perceptor paused in his scanning and re-booted his optics, letting them adjust from the quick change away from the data-pad. It was superfluous really, the existence of such planetary changes for mechanics. Even if such things had existed back on Cybertron, the possibility of it affecting the going-ons of the population would be marginal at best. But for organics, here on Earth, the very existence of a cycle of 23.934 Earth-hours of light and darkness seemed to rule the natives' lives. The effects could be seen down to every single last organism.
It was rather fascinating really.
What was even more fascinating was the fact that many of the Autobots had absorbed and adapted to this solar-centric culture.
After 10:00 pm, Earth units, Pacific time zone, 85 of the Ark's residents (with exception of those on patrol and guard duty) were either beginning to head towards their recharge berths or exhibiting much more placid behavior than shown during the times of light (though there were certain days that seemed exempt from this, such as Fridays and Saturdays, as well as the occasional rare night after a particularly easy victory against Decepticon forces).
Jazz's usually audio-deafening tunes were traded in for a collection of mellow melodies.
Optimus Prime retreated to his chambers to chuckle over a few Earth comics before settling down with a rather old and battered data-pad.
Red Alert's paranoia increased during these nighttime hours as his auto-mechanisms were put on hair-trigger alert for fear of an attack on headquarters in the dark. Inferno usually came back from his self-imposed rounds around the area's cities to accompany the Security Chief the moment the sun dipped into the Earth's horizon.
The normally scarce Mirage was even less likely to be seen or heard from during these hours. His usual haunt took him to the lip of the volcano where the white and blue mech would just sit for hours until the stars began to fade, or his power core sent notices of its needed recharge.
The list of changes as darkness overtook this part of the Earth just went on and on. Perceptor's lip components quirked as he shifted in his position. Even he wasn't immune to the effect of Earth's peculiarities.
Night turned to day, day turned to night.
One mech sat alone, pondering the givens of organic life.