#iaconianarchivist

[carestoomvch-blog]

#(( hi hello ur ratchet is gr8 nd im nervous; ))

friend i am afraid you have been deceived

[fall3nrising-blog]

The black jet, like some twisted bird of prey, hung low in its approach, streams of fire leaving trails in the night from multitude furnaces and exhaust manifolds. Heavy-clawed propulsion units directed it more carefully as it swung around the tower,  settling down to a landing platform. The ancient transformed, rising, and entered the building with a dark cloak of some alien fabric, and a rectangular storage device tucked under his arm. He ascended a few floors, ignoring the other mechs treading one way or another, and made for a balcony on the tower’s peak which overlooked Greater Iacon in all its starlit glory.

He emerged onto the platform, on which were a number of tables situated - a number of dignitaries, theologians, philosophers, and other people of Cybertron’s high society holding quiet and lengthy discussion over a glass of the finest high-grade. His red optics scanned the scene, finally locating the mech he’d come to see. He approached the table at which the librarian sat.

“Orion? Orion Pax? Thank you for making the time.”