starscreamthefirst: (Default)
It has been a while since I've had any dreams, although that's not abnormal for me. Last night however, or rather this morning, I have recalled something that rings of significance to me. It was short lived and has left me wondering about what words are lost to the dream...

In the dream I don't know where I was and it didn't seem familiar to me thinking about it now. It was somewhere with dim warm lighting and felt most likely underground. Not unlike the tunnels of Kaon, but without the moisture. It was dry. There were multiple hallways stretched out to different rooms or connecting to other hallways and otherwise empty of anything else.



I'm walking through these halls alone and come across Bumblebee. He's right in front of me, but keeps getting farther away every time I try to get closer. He's trying to tell me something and I can hear what he's saying but I can't make it out. I start waking up, disturbed by my partner who is in bed with me, and I tried to shirk him off and go back to the dream. Between dream and awake I can't manage to get back to Bumblebee to understand what he's trying to tell me. I wake up.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
From the depths of my subconscious as I sleep, I recall having a strange dream last night. After what could be months of nothingness or rather lack of remembering the thoughts that intrude upon my slumber, this comes to me out of nowhere. I have been so caught up in other things that have persistently kept my mind both busy and troubled, perhaps the stress inducing this. Dreams have always been few and far between for me, but the ones I do have tend to make the most impact they can. This may lead to understanding some of the significance to them, if I am so able to break them down.

Of course, the dream is fading at the edges as I try and recall what exactly happened. The feeling though is what stands out most to the forefront of my mind. Not unlike an emptiness, but there is something there. The uneasiness of mortality coming to question, or I dare say the feeling of loss? Its difficult to put my finger on exactly, though this is nothing new to me. I was never good at understanding my own feelings let alone know what I am feeling to start with.

I digress, the dream is first person, as mine always are when I am present within them. I am somewhere I recognize whilst I am in the dream, but as I think of it now I have absolutely no idea. The memory of this place is lost to me as I try and think of it now. It is.. I think somewhere at the least Cybertronian dominated. Whether its on Cybertron is unclear as it could very well be another planet. The buildings are disheveled and constructed in a manner that is what I can only describe as in disarray. No 2 buildings are the same, and look to have been built completely with no regard to one another. The weather is also very dry, I hate it.

In this place I am looking for something. Begrudgingly, more particularly I am looking for 'someone', well.. what's left of them. I am under the impression that at this time Megatron has been missing. This isn't abnormal though. Its something he always does, going off on his own for some ridiculous expenditure. I am starting to think this is definitely some random planet, a Cybertronian colony, or in the process of becoming one. There are a lot of parts being traded on the streets here. Name it and you could probably find it amongst the heaps of spoils collected from the war by these scavengers. Servos, optics, even full chassis. There is no fighting going on now, no badges to be seen on any of the mechs I come across. Ah, it must be a neutral territory then. Lovely.

I am drawn into one of the structures at some point, a collector of specific tastes ushering me in to discuss objects of interest to me. Along the shelf on the back wall, I am greeted with a stack of heads. Mostly intact too. There are mechs I recognize, the majority I don't. It becomes clear to me I have found what I am looking for, I can read it in the carrion pickers EM field that he is either too stupid to mask or lacks any care to. His presence disgusts me.

Now, I hate to have an audience in these more sensitive matters, and I don't intend to pay some grimy neutral who scavenges the battlefield for a war he refused to pick a side in. So I make quick haste to relieve him of this position, an act of mercy really. With his lifeless chassis kicked to the side I begin my search. Looking through each face, tossing them aside as I dig through the pile of the deceased, the shelf quickly empties without my quarry. I stop to think, knowing the grotesque collector probably would have stashed this particular good in a more secure place, and move through the rest of the building.

After searching throughout near the entirety of the place I come to the sleeping quarters of the merchant. It is beneath the slimy neutral's berth I come across his more valuable stash. To think someone had been recharging above this for who knows how long. I pull out a box and with more delicate handling than I had the previous items retrieve what was tucked away inside. This is where the weird feeling starts, as I stare down at Megatron's head suspended between my 2 servos. Good grief, it's not a feeling of sadness, don't be stupid. Maybe its something like disappointment?

The air is empty around me as I look over Megatron's face, scanning for any signs that it would activate somehow and start chastising me. It does not. The thought prevalent in my mind is that this thing is in locked stasis or just a shell. Megatron changes out of bodies as easily as I can, a quirk if you will of being constructed cold. Of course, usually the head is connected to the brain module and the spark.. which would be transferred over to the new frame. It is not unlike him however, to be craftier at this than the average mech. The thought never falls to him being actually dead. That would be too easy.

Finding this just means that I have more work to be done. I bring it, him?, back to my ship and attempt at connecting the head to a source of power, see if I can evoke something from it. Nothing happens. There is a faint crackle of static, but nothing more. The dream gets fuzzier at this point, and I'm not sure what if anything happens next. I'm just left with feeling like I'm missing something.


End Log 8
-Starscream the First
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
Wistful, brief moments caught within fragmented gaps in time continue to plague me. It is as if life were reflected back at me in a mirror, and once broken these trapped moments slip between the cracks. Eyes closed, black nothing turns to faded imagery, flickering in and out like a lightbulb ready to burst. Yet once these flashes cease, I'm left with nothing but the fleeting thoughts of something once there now gone. A feeling cold.

I've heard this sort of thing explained as a walk down memory lane, and honestly truer explanations couldn't be made. Each step slowly turning from concrete to rusted terraform, it's like stepping out of one crack in time and into another. Feet planted on Earth one second, and onto Cybertron in the next. Tall human cities become the last of the golden eras great structures, weathered by acid rain and cycles blasted with swarf. Though it is not always the same place or the same time I find myself lost in these memories, they are not unlike one another.

I could find myself back in the beginning, when it all was fresh and new to me. Then 'the first' was a marvel, a breakthrough. Weariness was more reserved of what would become of cold constructed mechs, swallowed by the celebration of a new process for creating life. Mutterings still went on behind closed doors about the risks, about the differences, about cold mechs being lesser. Words spoken with ice and malice, the same expressed in empty blue optics. The optics of those I'd come to hate looking at, to hate that frigid colour.

You see, I was the first mech created through the process of "cold construction". This invention a breakthrough for our dying worlds lack of new life as energy ran out from our planet and its moons. Forged mechs concerned with a lack of frames to do the work they needed however, would not treat us the same. Equality was never in question. It became increasingly aware to me as others were constructed from the same mold as I. More were made in my image. Carbon copies. No longer a unique existence, but the beginning of one that would rise alongside them all.

Branding these mechs with red optics, cold construction became a staple for creating mechs to fill positions the higher caste saw themselves too good for. I was made to be an energon seeker. Although I had gotten myself into the scientist caste it felt more like a front for the council to gloat over. To show that even cold constructs weren't all 'lower'. Just another part of the great deception. No freedom to choose, you are only but a cog in the machine. A cog that you are destined to be until you are no longer of use.

I made myself useful. Eventually this would lead me to becoming representative of Vos. Though.. it wasn't a city most if anyone would want. This was especially so whilst the conflict between my jurisdiction and Iacon were on the rise. Vos was location to some of the largest cold construction plants, and otherwise known well for its War Academy. Iacon in contrast was a place of intellectual academics, host to the Hall of Records and Nova Point. You can imagine the strain between ideals just knowing that. Still, Iacon always received the better end of the stick. Better was never enough.

That conflict eventually would result in civil disarray. An example would be made of Vos in direct aim towards the growing prejudice of cold constructed mechs. A raid in the lower sectors by the judicial forces of Praxis, much like previous raids that occurred in other cities. It wasn't out of the ordinary. In fact it wasn't just against us cold constructs, there were plenty of forged mechs in the lower less desirable caste that would also fall victim.

I recall meeting a mech in the bowels of Nyon who had experienced much of the same. I'll call him "Torque" for now, though this isn't his real name. He was forged, but due to his frame was not deemed useful enough for higher status. We both lost parts of our home, friends and acquaintances, and had dealt with discrimination first hand. He had scraped by as a delivery mech, which would become an asset to me in our relationship. I had made a business arrangement with him in my personal dealings. It would have been at the beginning of my underground arms exchange. Torque would run the parcels for me no questions asked.

Sometime after the rise of the Decepticons we would end up going our separate ways, though this wouldn't go without me trying to convince him to join. To no avail, I would end up seeing him brandished with an Autobot insignia later on. The hypocrisy seethed into me like a torch. He would be the last "friend" I gave any amount of trust to after that. I realized how much I truly could only rely on myself, that I was the only one I could trust in the end. I shouldn't have been surprised. He was 'forged' after all.

Torque would be part of a sea of blue optic lit mechs, my enemies, whilst at my back a sea of red. The segregation couldn't have been made more obvious. It was done purposefully of course. Forged mechs wouldn't have wanted us to be undistinguishable, created that way to mark us out easily. In solidarity, there were forged mechs who joined our cause that would have their optics artificially hued to red. A painful process. Most times this involved removing the original optics completely. Loyal but extreme Decepticonism became something we were known for. Our cause was a movement for change, one that fought for equality, and nothing showed that better in an individual than reformatting yourself.

As a cold constructed mech, reformation was an easier process. I went through enough frame changes to know that. The process wasn't done for the purpose of change, just one that I preferred. It was part of mandatory maintenance on a frame that was not forged by pure sentio metalico, but rather scraps derived from it. I had no quarrels for lack of a "true form" or some other nonsense. If my frame wasn't routinely updated it would quite literally fall apart. It was important to do this to maintain utmost protection surrounding the materials that were otherwise irreplaceable. The spark chamber and the cerebrum module. These were the most valuable components and delicate to survival. Without them, you were nothing but a crude construction of non-autonomous parts.

You were constantly reminded of there being a difference between you and them. Far before inklings of a civil war was in the works, it was a daily topic. The streets of Cybertron, no matter what city, were filled with these reminders. Restrictions, barriers, cold stares, uneasy em fields, the constant threat of violence.. etc. You had to be sure of knowing your place and not to overstep what was allowed. Something so much as speaking out could land you in a cell at best, a causality if you're lucky still, or subject to the institute if you really tread against the wrong crowd. I would manage to slip past the attention of big brother. Going unnoticed or being able to talk myself out of predicaments is a trait of mine I still hold very significant to my survival.

Having to rely on wit and ingenuity was something you needed to make it, lest you were destined to disappear and be forgotten. I intended to be sure I didn't.



End log 7
-Starscream the First
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
Something I-We've never really written out, is first off about our plurality in general, and also why we feel we are this way. It's been a complicated road of ups and downs along our path of figuring out how to co-exist at times.. but all in all we've reached a state of harmony among each other.

We've actually grown a lot since first realizing I wasn't the sole individual in this body. At first I was selfish, I was upset at the thought of being multiple, of having to share. What made it worse was how quickly my partner included some of the others in our relationship when I had felt strictly monogamous.. My emotions are not pretty. I know jealousy doesn't look well, yet my mental state through this had eroded already. The fact being my headmates of current showed up after a major car accident I was in. I ended up missing a lot of work, being forced to take leave and take trial and error through medications. There were moments I didn't know who I was anymore. I disassociated from everything often, or I was having panic attacks. My doctor had diagnosed me with Panic Disorder, which wasn't quite right. It took a long time after to see a proper therapist to finally get a PTSD diagnoses. My medication was switched with her help and things got better.

A lot of the rejection I felt towards my headmates went away and I slowly began to accept them. Orion especially, had been the biggest help and emotional rock to lean on. He was the first one to show up, within a week or so of my accident. It was the worst accident and the one that spiraled me into a mental health crisis. Late at night on my drive home from work my car was slammed into the back of a large corn tractor before flying into an irrigation ditch. My eyesight went yellow on impact, the car was totaled, every airbag went off, and I was covered in blood. The cop who showed up was nice enough to drive me home as I denied the ambulance ride in fear of the cost. Probably should have taken it looking back now.. Anyway, not long after Orion started fronting. It was easier to accept him because it felt like he'd always been there, which he says he was, just unable to front until then. We're both Cybertronian, and had ended our last lives closely together. We theorize that in our deaths our sparks merged together.

After Orion, Prowl was the next to show up. My memory is really fuzzy of when this was, or what happened. All I know is it was another accident. He arrived angry and with an attitude. I never minded him, he doesn't front often. Mostly he comes out to be defensive and takes the role as protector. Other times he comes out to do laundry or other chores. He's quite anal about keeping things tidy and can be adamantly stern, though he keeps to himself otherwise. We think he followed Orion through the doorway to our headspace. There started to be a trend of cybertronians coming through.. particularly autobots.

Rodimus was the next to enter our system and the most difficult for me to accept. He showed up in a near-hit, accident avoided, at an intersection. I was driving straight through the light on green when a girl decided to make her left turn. I remember seeing her car inches from mine, when suddenly we floored it and took a dive into an empty exit(thank primus no one was there). I blanked out and Rodimus fronted the rest of that day, which my partner would tell me about when I came back. Now.. I really did not like Rodimus, and I did not like how often he spent with my mate. My jealousy stage was at full throttle when he showed up. I was not in a great mindset and started to recluse myself more and more. I struggled at work again, dark thoughts ran through my mind and I felt obsolete. Rodimus was a beacon of positivity. I despised that in my struggle with negative thoughts. Despised that he was more joyable to be around than me. Despite this, he was always there. He would disappear sometimes sure, but he always came back. I liked when he was gone, but eventually started to.. notice the empty space in his absence. We're on good terms as friends now, and everything has changed a lot since then.

The next and most recent headmate to come through is Wheeljack. He may be even more reclusive than Prowl. After the latest accident, getting rear-ended at a red light, he came out a couple weeks later. I was struggling setting up some wiring until he fronted and sorted it out for us. Every so often he will come out for similar things. Anything to do with technology and problem solving peaks his interest to intervene. His way of putting it is less of wanting to help, and more of not being able to stand seeing us struggle with "simple tasks". Fun guy. He still hasn't warmed up to any of us or our partner and tells us he won't stay for too long. So I guess we'll see.

Overall I feel like my headspace is linked to the Cybertronian city of Iacon, or to the titan that hosts it: Iaconis. I believe that makes me part of a gateway system or linked to this titan in some way at the least. For those who may not know, titans are the cityformers of Cybertron; large Cybertronians whose alt modes are entire cities. Imagine if NYC transformed its entirety, buildings and all, into a giant mech. That's what a cityformer is like. Iaconis, remains dormant in our headspace, resting in city-mode. He has only fronted once, and seemed to be a combined consciousness of all of us in the system. It felt like what I imagine a combiner might feel like; a combiner being multiple Cybertronians who form together to create one giant mech, though not as large as a titan.

Aside from my headmates, there is Bumblebee, who I would rather consider a soulbond than a headmate. The reason being because he does not reside within our headspace, and is only connected to me for some reason. Bumblebee and I can talk across whatever distance is between us, be it worlds, universes, who knows. I don't know if Bee is incarnated somewhere else or that he is speaking to me between dimensions. I just know that he has been there from as far back as I can remember before my awakening even. In our connection he likes to give advice and act as a guide to morality of sorts. That or he plays ridiculous music to get our attention and convey something to us through it.

Other headmates have come and gone in the past as well, entering through the gateway and returning back through it. I'm not sure why some come and go, and others have remained more permanently aside from personal choice of the individual. I don't know why my headspace is a gateway, whether it is a true spiritual gateway, or if something else may be the underlying cause. I'm not opposed to something psychological being the root either, though my personal belief's personally lie in the existence of spirituality, the existence of multiple universes, and other dimensions.


-Starscream the First
starscreamthefirst: (Default)

  

It's a thought that tugs at my mind. A secret perhaps we are not meant to know, one simply not remembered, or something that our collection of thoughts refuses to let surface. Every now and then that question comes to mind, about more than just life, but about death. By this I mean more than just knowing how I died, but what happened after. Theres some things I wish I knew about that and to what effect the life I lived had. Though maybe thats just selfishness on my part, but who am I to be perfect in that regard?



There was a dream I once had about dying. I can't forget it, however I did not ultimately meet my demise then. If I'm not mistaken in my hazy recall it had something to do with Unicron. If not then it was some other large opposing threat. Not a combiner or a titan.. and not an autobot or decepticon. That I am quite sure of. Regardless of what it was, there was a moment where I had 'died'. Yet it wasn't true death. More so what I could compare to some stories of humans having what you could call a life or death experience. That seems most accurate to what happened at that time.

In my collection of it, I was grasped in the servo of the towering foe, clinging on just barely. Yet as ever as I was stubborn and willing to grind my denta plates, I hung onto what strength I had left. Giving up just is and was never something in my nature. A trait of mine that went both ways to others seeing as a good or bad thing, but one I pride myself on. Even in this situation I stubbornly clung to life, but even stubbornness couldn't stop the pressure on my spark. And in a brief flicker it did give in.

That moment filled with a sharp striking pain. One from within myself, and another from a forlorn spark mine was bonded to. It was like no other feeling I had before, immense pain followed by emptiness. I felt hollow and lifeless before things suddenly jumped to third perspective. I looked down at myself, still clutched and crushed in my opponents servo, colors fading to gray. My attention in another snap dragged to a cry of anguish from not too far off. I'm not sure even now if I was just imagining it within that dream, or if it had truly come from the mech grasped within the foe's other servo.

My memory of it only starts to get fuzzier after this point. There is a totally blank moment missing between where I was at point A to the instantaneous jump to point B. I was suddenly returned to my body, the sensations coming back with color; almost identical to the feeling when bloodflow returns to your limb after going numb. My spark whirred to life with vigor. Intakes sputtered to life as they recovered from the brief stall. This was soon followed by another crying out, this time instead one of relief from the adjacent em field. It flooded my own without holding back, just barely with a smidgeon of anger. How typical.

Within my memories and dreams I haven't had anything like that since. This had been the only time I have had a dream to do with my death as such, the closest I have come to experiencing something like it. I doubt I'll have any knowing to come about how I truly did die to pass on here, ands that's quite alright. I am content with that aspect.


What I strive to know with sleepless nights is what happened after I died. I can't help but wonder what I left behind, the generations after my time, whether cybertronian civilization went on, or how my sparks lives went beyond my own. That is something I wish I knew above all else. I suppose its another one of those things not meant for me to know, or for anyone whose passed on. Perhaps the knowledge would be too much for the vessel to handle. If anyone did know, then I wouldn't be asking myself though, would I?

I could continue to prattle my thoughts on this, but some things are better left unsaid. There are certain things however long ago in another lifetime that are private to myself. After all, I never was the open book type. As much as I like to talk about little old me, there are a few personal tidings kept from others for the most part. Yes, even with a mouth as big as mine, I do keep quiet on certain topics.

Those thoughts aside, there is the ever asking question on why I was reborn in the first place. Was I owed a second chance at life, or am I punished based on how mine was lived before? It could go either way, or heck, maybe it's both. I can say this however with absolute certainty, and that is that the allspark is a bunch of hooey. Am I wrong? I hardly think so, knowing that mine and other cybertronian sparks ended up here. Not that I ever believed in such nonsense. I never saw a point in thinking of such things, but maybe being occupied with real life does that to you. Of course its not something your typical Primus worshipping autobot would know anything about. It must have been nice to have free time before the war.

Here now as human I have the free time to think about things like death. I have the free time to think back on the lives I once lived. At the cost of remembering though, comes with knowing what I once was and can no longer be. Trapped in knowing in another time I did die. Somewhere that moment lives and connects to my consciousness whether I remember it or not. That state of death is one I can never escape knowing.



End Log 6.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
 

It’s been a while since my last journal, a while since I had the time to actually write anything down. Even now, I still don’t, as I sit here trying to put my thoughts down during my break at work. No time better than now though I suppose. I know I won’t have a better opportunity later.

 

The feeling as of late has been one of a divide, a long expanse of separation from where I belong that I desperately cling for day in and day out. It’s not a feeling of mourning or loss, but longing for certain. Every time I close my eyes I imagine I’ll open them to elsewhere. Anywhere else but in my human prison I’m subject to now. That may sound dramatic, but I can not describe this dysphoria by any other means. Feeling cosmically misplaced. Feeling uncomfortable in this body. Feeling displaced in this world. Separated. 

 

It’s difficult not to go about my day and focus, while in the back of my mind there is an itch for where I feel I should instead be. I feel like I’m forgetting something important, that theres work to be done and I’m slacking in it. Planning to be done, mechs to command, structures to be put in place that need my overseeing. Yet it’s all but gone. A ghost in my memory that haunts me through this life. Like looking at a closed door and expecting something to be behind it, that should be there waiting when it isn’t. Consistently I’m waiting to wake from this nightmare and be reunited with what was mine. My body. My world. My belonging.

 

A cybertronian trapped in a human body.. being this way must be a curse, a punishment, or a twisted gag from the cosmos. It’s one thing to be reincarnated, but to remember what once was mine is a cruelty like no other. To feel the unattainable desire to be who I was. Why? I don’t care to know the answer much than rather this blight be taken from me. I don’t want to to feel this way. Sometimes I think it’s better to forget than to go about life this way. I mean, who would ask for this?

 

The line of separation I walk each day is taking its toll. One foot in the past, and another in the present, inseparable from each other but divided like a raging tempest that fights to be whole. I am not complete in a way I can never be it seems. There is only the place within myself that I am at all.. in my my mind.. in my spirit.. and in my dreams.. though only then.

 

 
End data log 5.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)


In response to a prompt: "In thought, memory, or feeling, what is or was your favourite place on Cybertron?"
 


What is my favourite place on Cybertron.. That’s a tough question to answer for myself, but honestly the answer really is smack in front of me. There is a place I often think of as my “retreat” or “getaway” within my headspace. I guess that I hadn’t really considered it such until now that I think about it.

It’s a high tower of strong Iaconian architecture. The gold rails rolling down in the unmistakable style of the era predating Cybertron’s civil war. I can only guess the tower would have also existed in Iacon’s upper city, but my memory of the place is fuzzy outside of its immediate perimeter. I can only imagine the significance of this place either coming from my early years spent in the illustrious city filled to the brim with Cybertron’s elite.. or of a time much later after those who forbid me the privilege of it were gone and dealt with.

Of course there was also Maccadam’s Old Oil House. I spent quite a bit of my free time there as well; another place to get away from it all and forget myself for how long I could. I had friends then. Or maybe just the one. A short red fella named Grid. We shared some good times there, and some bad ones. Mostly mediocre from what little shaninx we had to spend. This was after I had been moved to Vos, when I started to crave the sweet empty feeling high grade had to offer.

It’s difficult to settle my thoughts on one singular “favourite place” now. I really don’t have “one”, but a handful of meaningful locations that have stuck with me. Like the tunnels of Kaon, now those hold a special little crevice in my spark. They were secret of course, a labyrinth of haphazard structures built beneath the slum city-state. It made it so easy to get places unnoticed, to move and operate in the dark. It’s where I met Megatron and found the Decepticon cause.

I’ll stop myself there before I get too wisped away in thought. These places are my “top 3” favorites of Cybertron, and hold significantly to my life as cybertronian. If I could ever go back to them, I would in a spark rotation.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
As we are entering pride month, I suppose there’s no better time to talk about my experience with gender and being cybertronian.

Firstly and foremost, we cybertronians didn’t have such a concept. Variance between others from mech to mech were complex and held each to their own individuality, but nothing was held to something so interlaced in human society. Males, females, anywhere in between was not something natural to us. That being said, in our very language their was an absence of what most human cultures call ‘pronouns’. This does not mean we went by notions of ‘they’ or ‘it’, but merely as a sentient being or ‘person’, with no discretion between anyone otherwise.

This of course did not transcend to frame type. While I would not voraciously compare what determined our caste to the gender roles of human cultures, I can not deny the similarity to an extant. One might more commonly consider frame type rather towards ones race, yet that as well is incomparable. We are one race:cybertronian. From Iacon to the sea of rust, we are no different coming from the same metal, the same grit, and the same source of life: the spark. Strip us bare from our frames and you’ll see, we are, we were, all the same.

At least that’s how it was bio-mechanically. Throw in aspects of functionalism, the predatory system that catered towards one group above others, and some religious fantasy to drive the message of a ‘higher power’, then we are suddenly not so equal as we should be. Society is not so simple when things like control are slipped through stained servos. But I digress, this is where differences came about for what our culture bred. The frame type you were either forged or constructed with, was what determined your place amongst society.

Before I get too off topic, as I’d like to remain the focus on what is perceived as somewhat similar to gender, I’ll continue along with frame types in that context. When I go on about there have not being gender, that does not entail that I do not believe there were not the concept of ‘femmes’. They were very much part of cybertronian society, but this designation did not conclude to a gender than rather an expression of frame type. That being said, being femme could be found in any frame, from flyer to vehicle, to non-conventional.

Femme vs Mech is probably the most significant gender-like concept you can find in cybertronian society, yet we do not segregate anything between the two. There is no set roles for either, as this is determined by ones frame type and so then their caste. If you come into being with a heavy equipment form of alt mode you are designated a lower caste with a determined purpose in something like construction or mining. If you come into being with a stream-line hover vehicle alt mode you are designated with a higher caste in luxury racing or art or design. Or so what we we call functionalism, whereas you did not have the freedom to choose your own destiny.

I was cold constructed, built a flyer for the purpose of deep space exploration. An expendable unit which would be made in the purpose of searching for energon. This was in the bottom caste, not quite as low as some others, but low enough to be in a position of no respect and to the treatment of pure casteism towards your frame type. Flyers were not prized is what I am saying, but I was still proud of who I was, and I made it my goal to prove it.

So that is my thoughts this month for Pride, when thinking of identity and gender from a society lost to the cosmos. I figured there was no better time to express my feelings and memories of such, so there it is.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)


A painting my partner made for me.. it really invokes the idea of how large and displaced we felt in a world not our own.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
On ‘seekers’ there’s a clarification I’d like to make. We’re not a different race, or subspecies, or much different from most any Cybertronian despite what some like to romanticize on the idea of. It’s strictly a military division. Equivalent to say a wrecker, a seeker is not a type of cybertronian, but a rank.

I ‘created’ the seekers as a branch of highly trained flyers under my own administration. Sharing the same frame type was one of the many dictations I made as part of being such. We were all cold constructed so that was simple work, nothing particularly special. It was equivalent to a military uniform.

Not all flyers are seekers. Being a seeker is a choice. A flyer could choose to join the seekers or not to. Being a flyer was not a choice. Those who are forged/constructed into flyer caste can not change this. (Of course there were some ways around that if you knew the right people, but then we are going underground with that.) Point is being a flyer is not the same as being a seeker.

We do not all hail from Vos. This is a misconception it would seem on account of us having trained at Cybertron’s War Academy which was located there. Vos, unlike what some seem to idealize, was not a seeker paradise by any means, it was just another of Cybertron’s low brow city-states. There was an overwhelming amount of grounders as per any other place and seekers as flyers were bottom tier of the caste as anywhere else. No seeker sanctum unfortunately.

Being a seeker or rather being ‘flyer caste’ was not respected. There were high amounts of casteism towards our frame type. You were seen as practically useless to the political view of functionalism even with the strides we made for what our purpose was deemed by the council. We were viewed as expendable in that manner. Which is partly why the seekers were created, to band an elite group of fliers together and show militarized unity for a greater purpose than what we were dealt.

The idea of seekers being this unique culture with mating rituals and cultural differences from other Cybertronians is a cute idea for fan fiction and fantisization, but not realistic by any means. The truth of the Seekers, are flyers unified as a Cybertronian Air Force under Starscream, and I wish to see more of that reflected on as it were.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
I miss the



Wind ripping through my audio

Sky tearing past my plating

Air whirling within my intake



I miss the



Speeds at which I rose

Heights at which I climb

Barriers at which I broke



I miss what once was mine
starscreamthefirst: (Default)



I've had memories of this place for a long time... long before I was awakened to who I am. The memory of this place has never left me for the past 10+ years, burned into my mind. I  can even remember the first time I thought of it.. but I finally put it down into imagery, albeit rudimentarily so. 

There's a part of me that thinks it may be located in Kalis? I'm really not sure, as all I know is there was this particular shaped building, or maybe energon plant? Something about it is significant to me. I can't forget its foreboding shape standing in midst of an otherwise empty spanse of land. 

I wish I could paint it more justice, but with only a glimpse of my memory its difficult to make out any further details. 

 

 

starscreamthefirst: (Default)
This is something of a persistent memory I experienced in a dream.. oh 2 years ago at this point in time? I had meant to journal about it sooner, and I had attempted to. The original writing I began had been lost from a browser crash unfortunately. Pity. After that I let it go, focused on life, etc. I hate to reword something after already going through the task. And normally I wouldn't bring back up such a distant occurrence, I like to write things fresh. However, I think something new isn't bad to try, as like I said, its persistence has me doing so now.

It begins hazy, a planet with windswept deserts outstretching for miles on end. You can't see the horizon line as the sands are picked up and tossed about. There's structures, whats left of them ,scattered throughout this place. One of them stands out, under the slant of the sands sifting it further away beneath the surface. Time has truly claimed this place. That is obvious from what is seen, but also, that you know something else happened here to make it this way. The signs of life, civilization, remnants of an ancient culture that arrived at sudden decimation. This didn't happen overnight.

I walked through this place. Yes, walking by pede. There was a reason for it that's lost on me, but there we were, walking through this gritty, sand plagued place. I can feel the pull of it now, viciously tugging and dragging at my pedes through the horrendously shifty grounds. I hated it. Soundwave had been with me then as well. He seemed to be either faring better than myself, which I will not admit if he was, or he was just good at hiding it. I'm going to go with the latter.

I'm not sure how long it took us, how many mega-cycles we continued onward to what destination we were looking for. I know it wasn't a skip in the park, that's for certain. There was a secrecy about it. Our ship left in orbit, a reason we couldn't land. What was it? My thoughts are on the premises that being discreet was necessary, but also when I think of the structures sinking away in the dunes, I'm reminded another potential reason. I suppose its unwise to land a large vessel here, too much a risk that it wont be able to lift off again. Then again, I'm still left with the perplexing question.. why this planet? Of everywhere else we could have been meeting, why was it here? I'll continue to sit on that.

We had eventually arrived to what we were looking for, a large structure half sliding beneath the slope. It was reminiscent of a church-like or old place of worship and ascension. What rubbish. Inside the walls were hollowed out, the building broken apart like a massive wind tunnel. The sands had whittled away at the walls leaving it this way. I remember the sound of it, humming eerily throughout as we stepped within. The noise reverberated within my helm uncomfortably. That or it was the preemptive feeling of who exactly we were here to meet with.

It wasn't fear. That was not a word I'd use to describe anything, especially him. There was nothing about such an insignificant figure throughout the entirety of the decepticon threshold that would propose a sense of fear. I've heard the stories, I know all the rumors, but nothing of that sounded evidently grand to me. It sounded psychotic. Here we were though, wasting precious time, coming all the way out to this forsaken planet to meet him. Tarn.

He was there waiting for us. Oddly alone. It wasn't normal for him to be anywhere without the rest of the dececpticon justice division. I don't know if that made things better or more unsettling. It didn't matter. Arriving at the same time as Soundwave and I, Megatron and Skywarp stalked in from the polar entrance we had come from. Megatron didn't even send a glance my way, immediately addressing Tarn. Soundwave, Skywarp, and I remained silent throughout as much as I recall. This was to be a quick and easy exchange and then we were off again.

What was exchanged was unclear to me. Whether I simply don't remember, or I was merely uninformed of by our Lord I'm not certain of. The last thing was our separation afterwords as we returned through the sand again and back to our respective ships. That was it. I feel like it was important though, like something that happened that day I should remember.. Something changed in that moment. It was so long ago, before Earth, before.. well a lot of things.

That memory sticks with me, itching like those sands in the back of my mind. One day maybe more will come of it, but for now, that's all I'm left with. I'll continue to think about it, I can't stop. Only time will tell what becomes of it.



End log 4.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
I remember the weight of my frame,

The thrilling whirl of my spark
The thrumming of my pistons
The scent of metallic dust

I remember the weight of my wings,

The clicking of seems into place
The reverberation within my chassis
The wholeness that I embraced

I remember the weight of my world,

The feeling that I once belonged
The sensation of the air
The times now passed withdrawn

I remember this weight though now its all but gone.
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
Its kind of funny, but also kind of.. well, not sad, but something else. I would generally put this down as a feeling of nostalgia, though that doesn't seem to quite cover the feeling I'm experiencing. Its an emptiness, a lack of something, a feeling that I should be doing something else even.

No, I'm not depressed, thats entirely different than this, this experience I don't quite have a word for regarding the... whatever it is that washes over me when memories surface from my life as Starscream. I suppose its a feeling not unlike the Portuguese word, "saudade". Yes.. perhaps that is the closest I will come to explaining it.

A feeling of longing for the absence of something one loves is what it means. Though love is not the sum of it I would particularly describe it as. Maybe I still lack an understanding of my own feelings as I always have. That's nothing new. Feelings and emotions have always been so foreign to me, even though I experience them daily. Or at least I believe myself to.

Regardless, I'm having one those days again. Its in the air, the atmosphere, that de ja vu feeling of times gone past. Not times from now, not times this human vessel has went through here, but ones that are inherently ones I find to be all from my time as Starscream. Yet the emotions are so human.. or at least that is all I can make of them in my current state.

Cybertronian emotions are not greatly different than that of a humans though I suppose, but again, I am not one who really understands anything of the sort. I feel now and I felt then, but paying attention to the subtleties of how I feel or felt, thats a whole other playing field to me. I'm not a psychologist. I take things very literally, and don't have as much of an abstract perception on the mind and thought.

It's time like this that I wish I knew what I felt most of the time, which makes me feel more like a machine ironically. Despite being a 'robot' cybertronians are not machines after all, which makes it so. We were people who felt, who loved, and who hated. Theres little distinction I can make from between us and humans when it comes to that psychology of our beings. I find it disturbing.

Our minds are not much different, no matter how much I regret to admit to this fact. The cognitive advance of Cybertronians is only due to our long lifespans and adept ability at recording information. Humans are only a couple of strides behind us, yet they are on the same track of destruction that we were.. but I'll stop myself there before I veer completely off topic.. This is about emotions, the human vs machine, if thats how you want to look at it. Though perhaps I am simply rambling on an unnecessary tangent. How human of me.

It makes me feel a bit better though, more grounded to who I am now. So then maybe this was necessary for my mental well being at the least. Even if I find myself processing things like a computer, its still something, I'm not an unfeeling slag of metal. I mean that with no offence of course, if there are those that function in that way. I'm only trying to make sense of myself here. Sometimes doing so at the expense of others comes without thought, which has been my unfortunate nature to deal with. A nature I try to keep under wraps.



"Saudade is deep yearning, a word which emphasizes the positive celebration more than the sadness we normally associate with what has gone."


I found this definition recently, and it seems to fit what I lack putting into words for myself, though has made it all the more easier for myself to do so. The yearning it describes for what is gone, the yearning that doesn't focus on an upset feeling of loss, but one of simple wanting. I miss what once was, but I don't feel sad over it, that's it essentially, and I'm content to know it that way. I think many of us here can associate with that; I know that I do. I guess the simple version would be to just refer to it as a homesickness, though I think saudade covers the feeling better than that, at least in my case.

I feel a saudade for the life I used to have, not in a way that I glorify it, but in one that I miss who I was and feel often that I should still be there. I guess this all started after waking up this morning and realizing that I wasn't Starscream; that I was fleshy, small, and delicate. Like the feeling when you wake from a dream and it still lingers, tugging at your heals and trying to pull you back in. That feeling.

Coping with that throughout the day, doing my best to keep it off my mind, that is what I find difficult. Things here seem so unimportant during these episodes. I know thats not the case though, and I wish my mind would keep up with that. Studying, working, drawing.. it gets so hazy and I'm distracted by it. Distracted until it passes, either by my persistent force of will or on its own.

This saudade grips me relentlessly every now and then. I've found that when it comes to it, there's not much I can do but let it run its course as I keep fighting to push it away. I won't let it disrupt my life anymore than it does, that I am sure of. I've always had my will on my side through everything, and thats what keeps me on my path. That I know will always burn strong for myself, its how I survive.


End Log 3.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
I was driving this evening; going down the highway with my partner in the passenger seat. We were on our way to his friend’s house, talking idly about our broken sink and other small things. However, like so many other times, that feeling washed over me. As suddenly as it always has when a memory comes on, I found myself in another moment in that instant. I tried to ignore it, focused on the road ahead of me, but even now it still lingers.

In the blink of an eye I was elsewhere. The tone was hazy, reminiscent of a foggy summer night. Dim lighting filled the cavernous hollow of underground interworkings ahead of me. They were more than familiar, more than just sullen passageways. I knew exactly where this was. It didn’t take long at all for me to place the location as the underground tunnels of Kaon.

I know that I’ve been to them times a plenty, more than I ought to have. The dealings that went on down there, the plans, the conversations... everything. This was where it all began, the birthplace of the decepticon movement at its core. Although I wasn’t there from the very beginning, I was there to see enough of its upstart. To be fair, I was recruited in its early stages, even if I wasn’t the first.

From before than, I had only seen everything from above. I had only looked down on the fights, on the gladiators of kaon’s coliseums, on Megatron. That’s what everyone else saw too, as not many ever even knew of these tunnels existence. It had been during my reign as air commander of Vos, my science detail having been short lived once the city-states begun to raise a fuss, that my interest in attending these events was given into. This is where it all begins, where my life would take its sharpest turn.

Everything started to come together here when I was approached by Soundwave. An odd mech from what I could make of him at first, and one I would later learn to watch out for. At first I was wary at his request, wary of who he exactly was, though it was no surprise to me that I was being sought out. I had skills other mechs could only dream of possessing, and my rankings at the war academy were enough to prove it without a show. Still, I wasn’t about to work for just anyone. Upon mentioning who he was sent by however, my mind was immediately more open to taking up his offer. I was ecstatic.

From that introduction, I was to meet with Megatron. “The Megatron” that I had watched all those times from the standings, whose matches I memorized down to every detail, and whose victories I idolized. To be requested by someone like that, me specifically, was what I had been waiting for. This was what I had always wanted, to be noticed and hand selected by this mech that had come so far from beneath it all. I didn’t know at the time what I was getting myself into, and yet all the same I didn’t care. Even now, with how I know what it all turns out to be, I’d do it all over again.

That was my first time down those tunnels, the first time I was drawn into the fly trap of my life. It was right then and there that I came into contact with what I wanted, and what I would be sure that I would succeed in having. Power.

Although, I find out much later, that power is not all that simple. I find out that nothing good comes from being in a sense of false control. The truth being that power is a lie, one that you’ll only lose yourself in once it consumes you. In those tunnels I may have realized that, may have been able to stop what was to come. Our plans went smoothly of course then; I harbor no ill memories from those times we spent down them. I still had integrity, I had promise; but those things were lost along the way.

Those tunnels are where they remain. Stagnant in memory, unchanging through time. They are there, residual through it all, right where I left them. Its when I think about them that it all comes back to me, and where I know those times came to an end. Before the planet went dark, before we were dispersed; that’s where everything began. Those old underground tunnels of Kaon are where its buried.


End Log 2.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)
There’s always been something familiarly unsettling about this planet we here as humans call home, something that eerily calls back to my past in a hauntingly unmistakable manner. The air, the landscape, the organic-ness of it all, is the only one tantamount to everything I never wanted anything to do with. The actuality of it all being connected more so to times wasted, and lost moments erased to nothing.

From my first time to this planet, to the plagued out existence I faced millions of years after, nothing as much as a good memory honestly comes to mind from those times. It only brings back the thought of my first exploration to it, one I wish had been my last and only visit to the planet. Yet fate had handed me back to it on a silver platter on multiple occasions since.

In my days as of now, its hard not be brought back to memories of my past here. From a mere change in the weather to the overall atmosphere of a location, it is in these simplicities often overlooked I’m caught remembering what I’ve felt before. Time and time again this occurs; an overwhelming nostalgia that anyone else would not be able to get a grasp to understand. The complexity of it is not always easy for myself to explain even.

It all derives from that time, the year 1984 in Earth terms, when I was secondly omitted to being present here. How ever fate had planned it, be that the cause, I ended up here along with the foremost of decepticon forces at that time. It had been while in pursuit of the autobot ship, the Ark, our convoy through space tailing them to this planet where we crashed. Our war had been going on for quite some time at this point, approximately 4 million years of what I would call a glorified deadlock.

This was just another planet like the rest, it would be all the same in perspective to the entirety of just how looped the war had come to pass as; if it were not Earth anyways. Out of all the planets, this one, for whatever reason, never stuck well on me. It may just be because of how often I’ve managed to get dragged here, or how long we were all trapped there from then. Regardless, the feeling is still all the same.

The crash left us immobilized for a great deal of time, leaving us to spend a few millennium in stasis lock. I would not be surprised if this also atones for the disquieting vibe I get from this planet, however, I know the majority of it comes from after we were put back online. Its those times, that almost make me wish we didn’t come back online after that.

We did though, and we survived; no one else but I having a recollection on which planet we had gotten ourselves stranded on. Although I would not speak up on this, keeping my own little secret to myself as not to beckon more questioning from our leader, or shall I say my conjunx. Not many knew, or they pretended not to, but there was more behind why exactly I was chosen as second in command. And that is all I will say for now on that matter.

After I and the seekers had laid out on reconnaissance, it had not taken us long to establish a base of operation, however mediocre it seemed. I noticed during this that life had progressed since my last visit, observing that these flesh creatures had begun developing civilization, humans I mean. They wouldn’t be much a problem though, seeing as they were in a state of practical infancy with their technology. Of course, we weren’t counting on the autobots to form a pact with them.

So much time was spent here on this planet, so much going back and forth between battles won and battles lost. Its tiring to even think about, that I can almost feel the aches springing back up into my struts. I’ll find myself often experience these memories here like this, as if traversing through a time capsule. Maybe its because I wish things ended differently from that point, maybe its because I know they could have.

I recall one battle in particular, a sure victory had we not been betrayed by one of our own. It was not only that though, but a personal betrayal from one of my own wingmates to add insult to injury. Alas, no one was more upset about it than Skywarp, and he was not short upon showing it. I never did see Thundercracker again after that, and I’m glad I didn’t. Loosing a wingmate would normally be seen as more tragic, but given the circumstance it wasn’t a great loss. Had I been the one to confront him, I would have been more precise with offlining him in the reality of it.

What I can’t fathom is why he did it, how he could so easily choose human lives over our cause, over our people. We had them. The humans were going to nuke their own city, the autobots with it along with their own citizens.. yet Thundercracker stood in to stop it. He chose the humans; the humans who were satisfied to destroy their own city with its people in order to win. How despicably ironic it was, just as what Iacon had allowed done to Vos. He should have known better; he should have seen the similarity. This continues to frustrate me to this day each time I’m reminded, because not only what he did, but because I know right then and there we would have won had he not defected.

Its memories like these that give me that feeling, that haunt me with these poignant vibes of this accursed planet. There’s so many more memories like this one, so many other times we were left utterly disappointed. What’s worse is knowing that I don’t believe I’ve even accounted for all of them, the fact being there could be hundreds more dormant memories that I have not yet accessed. Nevertheless, I attain my poise all the while, keeping in mind that it’s all over and done with.


End Log 1.
-Starscream
starscreamthefirst: (Default)


It all started when I was around only 4 or 5 years old. I had found myself enthralled with the F-15 eagle fighter jets in the movie, Top Gun. Its not the average favorite film of kids my age at the time, especially for a "girl" in the 90s. If that movie was on the television, I was watching it. I could feel the jets, what it was like to be one, and felt on this something I couldn't describe other than that I was one. This is the moment of realization for me, when I first awakened to those thoughts and feelings, and from there they never ceased.
 
There are moments I remember quite well as a child. Swinging on a swing-set and closing my eyes, letting the winds wash over me and feeling as if I was flying. Or staring up at the clouds as I did so, watching a plane go by and imagining myself as one, up there creating cloud trails. I had only been on an actual plane once on a trip to Florida, afterwards my family avoiding them in fear. Yet I would eventually take a plane trip again later on, to which I rather enjoyed.
 
Since as long as I can remember I've also had a strange connection to vehicles. I always felt like they were alive. I gave them names, I spoke to them. They weren't just "cars" to me. It's something that has stuck with me through out my life. I had the deepest relationship with a car I would get much later, my first car, but I don't want to veer too off topic now. The bottom line is they were always people to me.
 
Fast forward to the year 2002, when I was around 8 years old, and the feelings became more narrowed. Transformers Armada had aired on cartoon network. I remember scrabbling downstairs early mornings to watch on the little gray box of a TV we had. It was then once again I felt the pull towards something.. something I was missing, a piece of myself that felt right. I never missed an episode, I was obsessed. I still had not quite figured out why at this point, I was too young to understand, but again, the feelings never stopped there. My favorite character was obvious to me from the start, though I tried to avoid that. I remember telling myself, "I can't like that one, cause he's the best". Its funny now I think how absolutely me it was to say.
 
 
I began collecting figures sometime after that. My first figure being a Heroes of Cybertron Starscream. My collection really built up from there, and without taking much notice was filling up mostly with decepticons, and a large proportion of Starscreams. It was.. unintentional, almost subconscious actually. Whether it was at the shop, or wherever, if there was a section of Transformers, I was immediately drawn to the red white and blue seeker.
 
 
Following that, the year 2007 rolls around. I am about 13 years old, and my connection to the Transformers and cybertronians is still strong. My friends and family refer to me often in connection to it. A commercial comes on and I hear, "___ your robots are on tv!" or a cool car rolls by, "look ___ its a transformer!" I've blanked out my human name for a few personal reasons. Anything in relation was usually brought to my attention. This is the year I became aware of the Otherkin community. I found during this time another moment when something clicked for me. Reading about these others experiences, what they described in feelings of homesickness, phantom sensations, and that overall description of not being human, I found myself. The thing that I had been feeling this whole time, put into words, and a community of other people who felt the same, I was ecstatic.
 
 
From then on I have been putting together my own thoughts and feelings, unraveling the past of who I was, and still currently feel I am. Discovery has truly never gone away since starting this journey. Everyday I still feel there is so much to learn of myself, so many things I don't know, and hope to someday find out. I remember questioning Soundwave at one point, casting aside all the years of jet feelings, as I still wanted to avoid Starscream at all costs. Something inside me didn't want to see or accept it. I.. don't know why, but coming to terms with it wasn't easy.
 
I couldn't deny the phantom shifts. Large jet wings on my back, thrusters on the heels of my feet, the feeling of hydraulics in my legs. Everything felt mechanically alive and it felt right. I wanted to feel my plating shift into place, to fold in on itself and allow me to take to the skies as I once did. I knew I was a jet from when I was very young, and this was why. I wasn't just a jet, I was Cybertronian. A bio-mechanical were-jet. A Transformer.
 
Knowing what I was and who I am gave me closure to the thing that had been itching in the back of my mind for my whole life thus far. Though knowing this was only half of it. The past of it also creeps up on me in ways I least expect. Memories of things I'd done, places I've been, those who I'd known, and things I'd come to hate. There are 2 sides of the coin when it comes to the past. The good, and the bad.
 
There was a time I was dating a guy. For some reason it pinged on me that our relationship was very familiar. I am not going to go into details of this 2 year back and forth adventure of breaking up, getting back together, and then breaking up for good another time.. but there was always something about him that reminded me of Skyfire. I couldn't unsee it. We were both in college together, studying the same course, and ended up partnered together for a project.. it all went off from there. Of course, it didn't work out, it very familiarly did not work out. It was never supposed to. It was one of those odd coincidences that I felt followed me from life to life, as I have a very strong feeling life does tend to repeat itself in ways.
 
Its hard to explain. I like to compare it to the movie: Cloud Atlas. How the story switches from era to era with the same people, but they are born into different lives, different roles, but they are repeating. I feel like when it comes to reincarnation we live the same story over and over through different obstacles. Things tend to often give that feeling of Deja Vu.
 
A year after that I met my current partner. I didn't tell them at first that I was Otherkin, as it was something private to me. I never imagined they would ever know, as I never told my previous partner. It wasn't something I talked about with people outside the community. Somehow it did come up though. There was something about our meeting that again had this ping of familiar-ness, that we already knew each other. And we did. I found Megatron. I don't want to say it was fate, but something caused our paths to cross again and there we were, together like old times.
 
 
In that moment I truly felt connected to myself, I knew who I was. It has not changed for me ever since the very beginning. My past is my present, and I can not change who I am. My awakening has been a lifelong event, but I'd say the moment I watched that "Top Gun" film was the day a whole world opened up to me.


 
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starscreamthefirst: (Default)
This will be my first entry here, so I'll say hello. I'm not sure what you are doing here, but welcome to my humble dreamwidth page.


A cube 'o energon for your trouble? Right.. we're all out. *Ahem* While I can not offer much for your stay, I hope that at the least you enjoy my writings, as that's all there will be here.


My entries here will be more or less an account of data logs based on memories and the like that I wish to record. If you too, are cybertronian, feel free to subscribe to my page, and I'll most likely subscribe back.