Side By Side
Genre: G1
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The twins stood sullen at the entrance to the Ark. Every once in a while, Sunstreaker would send a dagger's tip glare his brother's way, along with a deep stir of anger. It was all Sideswipe's fault. Sideswipe was the one who stole his brother's paints for what he claimed was just a little 'adventure.' Sunstreaker wasn't even aware half of his paint was missing until he set up his easel early yesterday morning.
The transition of autumn to winter always brought the frontliner a certain amount of joy. Long gone were the seasons of Cybertron, though there were only two. Just like Earth they experienced cold and dark, followed by brilliance and warm. They just didn't have the transitional seasons like spring and autumn. Those were for organic worlds. On a planet made entirely of metal, supporting metallic beings, there was no rebirth of plant life. Just as there wasn't a designated time for plants to lay down their lives in cold slumber. Metal for the most part remained resilient, its autumn consisting of rust and disrepair before returning to the smelters to be reforged brand new. But those cycles were few and far between. But here, on Earth, it was a constantly changing myriad of color and sounds, sights and smells. And though the citrine warrior was loathe to admit it, he enjoyed the abundant transitions the planet bestowed upon its children.
So here he was, standing guard outside the Ark entrance, missing the coming dawn because of his idiotic twin who decided the crew needed a few touch-ups in their recharge. Sunstreaker cringed, remembering the color schemes Sideswipe had decorated his comrades with, and made a mental note to ask Ratchet to make absolutely sure Sideswipe was his true twin. There's just no way a mech could be that color blind while having a constant artistic influence in their lives. Sunstreaker was sure Sideswipe was adopted.
The two guards didn't know they were being observed.
Optimus Prime stood flanked by Ironhide, Jazz, and Prowl, all four watching the troublesome pair.
'Think they'll learn?' Ironhide asked over comms.
'Highly doubtful,' Prowl supplied, his temperament as passive as always.
The four mechs watched as Sunstreaker unfolded his arms, stalked across the entrance and punched his twin, sending the red warrior skittering on his aft. Then, just as silently, Sunstreaker stalked back to his previous position, leaned against the hull, crossed his arms and stared moodily out across the plain. Sideswipe regained his feet, pretended to shake the dust off his body and turned to the opposite direction, presenting his aft to his twin in hidden meaning.
'I just wish they would take their responsibilities more seriously,' Prowl said.
'They're a couple of aft headed glitches with breezy processors,' Ironhide supplied, giving the two unknowing warriors a disgusted look. They particularly enjoyed picking on the weapons specialist, their pranks becoming something of legend. But if one looked closely enough, they would notice the playful nature of Ironhide's incidents, as opposed to the rather harsh and brutal exploits towards some of the more abrasive members of the Ark.
Cliffjumper's missing hand, Gears' paint stripped down below the primer, and Mirage's shattered collection of singing crystals were just a few examples.
Now the pair was on what Sideswipe called, 'Redundancy Guard.' The surveillance cameras kept the Ark as secured as it could possibly get, so having guards stationed at the entrance was a waste of time and aggravating to mechs who needed the constant motion of physical activity. Sideswipe tried to warn the Commanders that immobilization didn't sit well with his circuits, and that they may have a severe case of what he deemed, 'Monotony Backlash', even going so far as to alert Ratchet to prepare the medical facility of possible injuries.
Ratchet had locked the medbay doors in response.
'Hopefully they'll learn not to bother mechs in recharge,' Jazz added, glad the yellow dots were finally off his plating.
'Maybe we should give them a taste of their own medicine?' Ironhide suggested.
'Sneaking up on a couple of frontliners while in recharge?' Prowl asked, raising a brow ridge and giving his fellow Second a surprised look. 'You think that's wise?'
'Remember what happened when Hound accidentally tripped and woke the twins up in the lounge?' Optimus Prime asked, remembering the crazy incident that nearly had his passive scout torn into several pieces. 'They don't respond well to rude awakenings.'
'They're just loose screws if you ask me,' Ironhide groused, doing a good impression of Sunstreaker. 'They argue and damage us more than they do the enemy. If you ask me, they're not worth the trouble of keeping around.'
Just then the dawn broke, bathing the world in newborn brilliance. The twins stood, awash in flame. Two perfect warriors accented by the most powerful thing in the universe. Their build lean, their armor luminous of the dawn, faces set in determined masks as the world reawakened.
Two mortals, etched by heavenly fire. One vicious carmine, his armor glistening like spent blood of the ages. Light was absorbed by the supernatural pigment, bending and distorting it to illuminate the world with its demonic glint. It was as if something dark and foul resided in the color, hinting to the death and destruction that could be rendered so easily by the one strong enough to reign in its power. The one bold enough to display its fiery temperament, its only mortal master. A color as primal as its bearer.
The other carried the burden of a dying sun. The color of flames as they danced, either the beautiful seduction of explosion, or the radiance of a timeless nova. Egotistical, centering the world and hinting to the impish possibilities of its counterpart, it was just as consuming as the demonic glow, though of a more subtle nature. The colors of spent blood and dying embers, emblazoned upon their bodies in a permanent tattoo.
A pair of rutilent beings, bearing power and grace, though their dance was deadlier than most. A million ways to burn. Forged by fire, they were the flames of hell brought to life in two metal bodies. A single weapon with two parts.
They were protectors to those taking refuge inside. Defenders of the helpless. Wraiths of fire. Steadfast sentinels, ready to lay down their lives to keep their friends alive.
Suddenly the commanding officers could see the true fear and power that radiated from their comrades.
The twins may have been born with different callings, their sparks guiding them on an unknown path that never felt quite right. Then a war broke out. Sides were reluctantly taken, and yet their true calling manifested.
Tools that were forged at the worst time, out of desperation and fearful hope. Weapons created for war and destruction. Their roles had been practiced so long, it was doubtful they remembered their lives before the furnace.
The thrill of the fight. The satisfaction of the kill. The pride knowing their might prevailed over something vile that threatened all they held dear. Their destiny lay in the ash and smoke. When the war ended, so to would they.
Cast in metal, tempered by flame and pain, the twins came out of the tempest forever changed. They were the permanent emblem, created for their purpose. Wielded by the Prime that helped temper their new lives, the only one that could truly control the untamable force of Two. A mech they could look up to, respect. Someone in which to believe, who could return their world to its former glory. Someone they would lay down their lives for and endure the most sadistic of creative inventions, and yet, find the torture honorable.
They would endure, taking the pain into themselves to prevent its talons from sinking into a comrade or a helpless innocent.
They were beautiful.
They were deadly.
Fiery angles walking the mortal world, scorching all who dare violation. Effigies to war and hardship. Living pyres that many had been sacrificed to, their lives mere embers amongst the two living suns.
The dawn gracing in corporeal form, rich, vibrant, dangerous, full of promise, lethal. Even during the cold autumn, their radiance would never wane. It would always be felt, tingling the senses, warming the body, rejuvenating the spirit.
An eternal day, shining through time and space, leaving a mark on the world that would be forever felt. Lives would be changed, paths illuminated, destinies forged, their places carved in time. Their bodies may not last the tumult of war, but their presence would be felt and remembered. A memorial to when they walked the mortal plain.
The four Commanding Officers stood frozen in time, witnessing something truly remarkable and would probably never be repeated again. A glimpse of something so beautiful and yet, dangerous, hidden behind a handsome scowl and mischievous grin.
The sun rose further, its rays sliding over the pristine metal of its physical counterparts, giving them a warm greeting before turning its attention to the world below.
Sunstreaker moved, and for a moment, the officers could see the living flame. Then, in an instant, it was gone. Disappeared into the depths, though hinting of its continued existence by glimmers of golden diamonds.
'Glad they're on our side,' Jazz muttered, his optics still locked onto the twins.
'It's a wonder they chose our side,' Prowl admitted, he too mesmerized by the moving fire.
'Let's hope they continue their allegiance,' Prime said, pulling his optics away from the vision. 'For all our sakes.'
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WOW! Have I been shocked at the number of people who faved this story! I'm just in AWE. THANK YOU!
Please let me know what you think of this chapter. It took about three hours, give or take, and I tried to clean it up as best as possible, but sometimes when I'm reading, I get into this flow and everything seems to make perfect sense.
Anyhoo, hope you liked. Would LOVE feedback. If you didn't like it, still.. FEEDBACK would be awesome, and give me a better idea on what could possibly need adjusting.
As always, any ideas or thoughts or concerns or whatever, will be considered. I don't bite. (often)
