A/N: This called out to me and pounded me into the dirt until I screamed uncle like a baby. I've seen the Mary Sue stories of being changed into a Transformer (why is it always a girl? And why is the girl always paired with a lone-wolf type and/or gives their friendship to only a trusted few?) If I'm going to do this let's do it but let's give it a good dose of human reality.
Revision A/N: Apologies are in order as I didn't even edit this as much as I should have; I was just too excited about putting it up. Hopefully this and later chapters will not have such errors (God I hope not, that was embarrassing). On another note, I did not include the sources for some of my information (my English professors would all have killed me for that) so I've now included the whereabouts at the bottom.
Warnings: Based on the G1 series but only until I take what is called 'artistic liberties' and smash the entire plotline to hell and back.
Summary: Warrior, scholar, lover, prisoner, and slave. I am this. Traitor, teacher, friend, and demon. I am this as well. To stop the nightmares I will write this and hope...
Disclaimers: Transformers is the property of Hasbro and concept licensed through Takara Co. All original characters however are created by ciscogirl/ciscogoldengirl and protected by copyright laws. This work was created only for enjoyment, not with the goals of credit or monetary gain in any fashion.
DATA LOG ENTRY: 1
Things are so different here; I miss seeing trees and grass and a sky filled with oxygen, hydrogen, and a bit of nitrogen all in such patterns as to give it a sapphire hue similar to clean fresh water. I even miss the gravity that pulled me down against the ground, pressing against my frame in a smothering embrace of physics. I miss the warehouses and the tiny sparrows that nested in the eaves, the swallows in the field, and the way the sun would warm me to my core. Despite the good relationships I have created since then, I know that I am teased about missing an organic planet and it's rather small star.
Nevertheless, I enjoy what I am accomplishing here; I feel as if what I am doing will truly help others. And despite the teasing I know it is made only in jest and not to insult me, in fact many of them are my friends. Upon my arrival to this establishment, I was given duties to perform, all of which were quite important and allowed for me to continue my atonement. But I have recently discovered that my friends used every connection they collectively had in order that I might have responsibilities I know I do not deserve. So now I sit back in the security and comfort of my own quarters and wonder…
Give to me the simple joys of being a Teacher and I need nothing more. Many of my friends do not understand why I enjoy it and it amuses me to see them confused about something I love doing. I would gladly die for any one of these friends and for once in my life I have found a great peace with them, though the entire galaxy itself seems flung into the maw of chaos.
But I do ramble, in this first entry. Should there be any readers to this humble endeavor of mine then I should probably get to the point. It is these same friends who have been pestering me to sit down and justify my past actions. Not only that, but they wish for me to put down my entire life so that others may know the 'truth'. Though I am averse to doing so, I feel compelled to obey their desires for without them; I would still have been lost long ago.
I suppose then that we balance each other out for as much as it confuses them as to why I love teaching, it confuses me why the want me to even do this. But one of them who I hold very dear (is it possible for a being to know your own thoughts and feelings before you do yourself?) suggested that this might ease my own pain. Perhaps the nightmares would lessen, if not vanish entirely. At such a thought I must admit I am a bit hopeful. So for their happiness and this spark of hope I shall do as they ask.
I must warn whoever reads this of several things before they go any further. Do not judge me until you are finished reading. Those who know of me may consider me better off dead then alive. To a point I would have to agree with them but in the end, this is my life and I would prefer to live it, whether or not I am considered perfect.
I am the project of a war older then some galaxies.
I am the child of a woman who loved me as much as she loved peace.
I am the warrior of a tyrant, brought up in his image and set loose upon those whom he called 'enemy'.
I am the hermit who defied the tyrant and called him my enemy.
I am a trusted soldier.
I am a back-stabbing traitor.
I am a vile criminal.
I am a respectable scholar.
I am an entire world's enemy.
I am that same world's protector.
I called a machine lover.
I call a woman my beloved.
I believe in little now.
I call Janus my patron god.
Janus-the Roman god of gates and doors, beginnings and endings, and hence represented with a double-faced head, each looking in opposite directions. Janus also represents the transition between primitive life and civilization, between the countryside and the city, peace and war, and the growing-up of young people.
-information taken from Mythic Encyclopedia