Living in Transformers Prime

I’m a TransFan who was taken into Transformers Prime, no thanks to Soundwave. I became a Cyber-Organic; the Transformers Prime Version of Techno-Organics. I also cannot die. I’m living in Transformers Prime, in the middle of season 1. Enough said. In Transformers Prime: Book 2.


11. Hush, Directions, critter

Two weeks were uneventful. What else can I give the universe which has seemingly burst my bubble countless times in logical sense? Oh how about not messing the timeline of Transformers Prime with the skill of my wit. How can the Primeverse not make sense to a Transfan? I’ve been hearing Ratchet sharing a conversation with this much younger sounding Autobot—no he sounds older than the voice of Transformers Prime Bumblebee in that comic-con video—that wasn’t Bulkhead.

 “I can’t get these directions’ right.”

Let’s play a game; whose voice is this?

“If you weren’t programming it upside down the directions would be right, Wheeljack.” Ratchet said.

Oh snap! He’s Wheeljack the guy who explodes machines like Knock Out; no seriously, Knock Out fails to make an icecream machine since last time it blew up in his face. The black soot on Knock Out’s faceplate was pretty much worth the megacycle watching the medic struggle with the machine. Shockwave showed off how well he could make an ‘icecream’ machine that could make what I wanted. Though after that; Shockwave never did figure out who stole his optic and made him walk blind for three earth days.

I don’t know who stole the science guy’s optic; really!

Knock Out is Wheeljack’s equal.

“Oh!” Wheeljack said. “My mistake  .   .  Who is this organic?”

Ratchet’s foot changes direction. The large clank noise from his foot indicated that.

“She’s no organic,” Ratchet said. “She’s a Cyber-Organic.”

“The one and only Cyber-Organic living in Transformers Prime.” I said, with a huge grin as both hands were behind my back.  

“Her name is Ivy.”  Ratchet adds.

When I had eyes, before Team Mech took them, I learned my body is so different it doesn’t have the monthly that girls go through every month. I don’t know how it works in this day in age for a Cyber-Organic’s body. All that does make sense is being a Cybertronian Organic from a universe dubbed ‘reality’where fictional characters do not exist. What also makes sense is blaming Soundwave.

I heard Wheeljack sigh.

“Didn’t Airachnid run them down into extinction stellar cycle’s ago?” Wheeljack asks.

“She did . . .” I confirm, tapping my fingers together while muttering ‘And then she did not’ in  a small voice. “But Soundwave brought one into the equation.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet face to face after a few earth months.” Wheeljack said. “I’m taking a short cut from a ‘so-called-non-explosive’ planet. “

“What’s it called?” I ask.

“Hush, Ivy.” Wheeljack said.

“Don’t you hush me!” I steam.

Slag, that’s worse than being called ‘Short’.I heard Ratchet’s laughter, and something squeaking like a kitten mewing for food. I’ve watched too much Youtube, frankly. From watching too much Youtube I’ve accomplished the goal to mimick a cat’s meow by watching cat videos. Did you know lions roar is a dramatic and exaggerated form of a cat’s meow? Just listen to their roar when they do it softly in the zoo.

“I wasn’t telling you to hush.” Wheeljack said. “That’s the planet I’m heading from.”

All right that honestly made me feel stupid.

“There’s a metal rat scurrying past the accordion white-red machine.” The IDS said.

I heard the squeaks that usually would be associated to a rat. Only thing I thought of at the moment was a Cyber-Rat and Cyber-Matt. Cyber-men mice have evolved over the years so don’t ask why these adorable creatures are being refered to.

“Diiiiiiiiiiieeeee!” I shriek, running after the source with a shoe.

“Does she hate rats or something?” Wheeljack asks.

“Unlike Miko who’s deathly scared of them.” Ratchet jokingly said.  “She named one Jerry and threw it out the base and scorned it like a—“

“Die; you ungrateful son of a  dirty scraplet with tar all over it!” I screech, running after the squeaking metal creature. “All beings are intelligent; even scraplets, dinobots, vehicons, and insecticons .  . .”

 I pound on the floor hearing the creature zip by a millisecond. Is there such thing as a millisecond?

 “You get the drift!” I finish.

Wheeljack is laughing.

“Ha,” Wheeljack said. “You got a metal vermin hunter among Team Prime; that was unexpected.”

The springs from Ratchet's neck made me aware he had shook his head with a apparent sigh.

“Tell me about it.” Ratchet agrees with him.

A sneer like growl came from the creature that seemingly is getting very bad insults from me.

“I would have thought you brought in a miniture sized Megatron to the base if my connection was bad.” Wheeljack observes.

  Tell me about it. Woah I just repeated Ratchet. Is that supposed to be part of a 'I repeat quotes' cool club that isn't a club, matter of speaking.

“Die to the pits of kaon,” I grab what the IDS describes as a  ‘non-metal broom’ and chased after the frightening critter.  “You little arse pipe!”

I hate rats.

“So, did you meet up with IronH—“

I didn’t hear the rest from Ratchet while running after the creature—that is still squeaking to this day—fearing for its life. My hatred for small creatures such as Mice had been burned; technically inflared. If you think otherwise then just wait for me to run under Bulkhead and Bumblebee while playing some video game called ‘Assassin’s Space Quest’ and lots of beeping from Bumblebee.

Are we good there? Awesome then.

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