It's Tough To Be A God

Megatron:	Megatron has recently left the stratosphere and is breaking orbit. It's been awhile since he's flown in space and he's forgotten how wide, empty, and cold it gets up here. But that's the least of his worries. His mood is sour as he heads off to meet his appointment with a god...a dinner appointment. Just the thought is absurd to him. Gods who cook dinner? Don't they more important things to do? And why does he have to fly? Isn't there some sort of special god transport system for invited guests? So far, he's not impressed with Primus's hospitality.
Primus:	Primus' hospitality depends solely on you being willing to make some sacrifices, Megatron! Besides, you could use the exercise. Primus is... nestled in the solar system, patiently waiting for Megatron's arrival - and, of course, putting the final touches on a cake. He, unlike Megatron, is looking forward to this get together!
Megatron:	He doesn't need any exercise, thank you very much. >\| The solar system is large, and there's no Mapquest for it either, so it takes Megatron a little while to get there (or perhaps he just took his time out of stubbornness, only Primus knows). Eventually, he comes into range, and circles above the planetoid, not quite certain where to land.
Primus:	Hangar doors - massive ones, bigger than even Megatron would need - begin to open, leading into a equally massive hangar. Primus... well, he doesn't quite comm* Megatron, so much as just straight up talk into his head.* Come on in. Take the lift up, please! The kitchen is on the fourth level.
Megatron:	And that startles him. Hearing voices in his head is nothing new to him, but this voice has -presence-. However, he regains his composure quickly enough, not wanting to show that he's been rattled by a mere sentence. Slowly, he descends into the hanger, transforming and looking about with a scowl. Fourth level? He spies the lift and cautiously steps inside, feeling as if he's walked right into enemy territory unprepared.
Primus:	The lift immediately starts, lined with the same multicolored lights as hangar, though they seem to be sticking generally to blues and purples for the time being. There's even some music playing in the background! The lift, also like the hangar, is huge, and it heads upwards at a slow, even pace, before coming to a halt at the fourth level, lift doors opening with a cheerful ding.
Megatron:	Megatron wonders exactly what the lift is for. Primus doesn't 'lift' himself, does he? Crossing his arms he stands in the center and waits for it to stop. When the door chimes, he hesitates to exit. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Why did he agree to this anyway? After a long moment of arguing with himself, he decides it would look cowardly to leave, so he steps off the lift and looks about.
Primus:	And Megatron has stepped right into what looks a lot like a mech-sized, very retro, 50's themed kitchen, complete with black and white tiled linoleum and bright white appliances, smelling a lot like freshly-baked cake. Primus finds it rude to not attend to guests hanging out inside him personally, and so holomatter generators have been used to let the planet replicate his own mech form inside the kitchen, scaled to a height just a bit* taller than Megatron. He's currently finishing up decorating a cake on the countertop, complete with a pink apron. He doesn't even glance at Megatron as he enters, though it's obvious the planet himself can see him.* Megatron! So nice to see you. He's even scaled down his voice, to fit the holo. How considerate, right?
Megatron:	He takes in the kitchen slowly. Then does it again. The thought that Prime would probably like this set up crosses his processor...And then he shakes his head. Then he sees...Primus? Wearing an apron? Making a cake? Blinks again. Is there some place he can sit down? This is all really too much.
Primus:	Yes, there is! A nice 50's diner table, complete with two huge glasses of fine-grade energon in front of two of the place settings! Primus, however, continues obliviously talking - well, at least he looks oblivious enough. How are you?
Megatron:	Megatron slides into a chair and takes one of the glasses without hesitation and -downs- it. Rude, probably. Does he care at the moment? Not in the least. He didn't expect this visit to overwhelm him so. The kitchen, the apron...and it hits him...he's having dinner with God. Huh...He watches as Primus moves about the kitchen, tracking the holo-mech with cautious optics. ...I am...alive...I think.
Primus:	There's more energon in the fridge. Primus, unlike normal mechs, has optics on the back of his head. Well, figuratively. In either case, he doesn't do anything to indicate he's at all phased by Megatron's reaction. There's also tea that I can make, if you'd prefer. Vector left some behind on his last visit, and I doubt he'll mind. His holo finally turns, though, optics looking Megatron over briefly before he smiles. And yes, you are alive.
Megatron:	No, Energon is fine. A lot more energon, plz. He gets up and goes to the fridge, which he stares at for a long moment, considering how surreal this is. Yeah. More energon. He helps himself, dragging out several cubes and taking them back to the table with him. Rude? Probably, but it doesn't register with him at the moment. He takes his seat again and drinks straight from one of the cubes. Manners say goodbye.
Primus:	Primus officially steps away from his cake-making, still smiling at Megatron. Good, now. I hope the energon is a good enough grade? It seemed all right for Starscream. Also, I wasn't quite sure what you might want beyond cake... But I also assumed you might rather talking over eating.
Megatron:	His bewildered expression fades at the mention of Starscream, but it quickly fades. He studies Primus's smiling face a moment, then looks to the table where the cake is. Cake is good. Cake is safe. If he eats the cake, then he won't have to do much talking. Funny, how talking over a journal is so much easier than in person. He frowns again, looking back at Primus. Why -do- you want to talk to me? And that is asked with the explicit intonation that he feels like he has no place being where he is at the moment.
Primus:	Primus is quick to bring said cake over to the dinette table, setting it down and going to get plates and forks and a big knife. Once he sets all this down, he sits down across from Megatron. Because you seemed unhappy, and I feel as though I may have something to do with that. And I rarely have an excuse to bake cakes. :3
Megatron:	Staaaaares at the god. Then at the cake. It looks...good. Really good. However, as good as the cake looks, he isn't very hungry. Pushing away a half empty cube, he looks around the kitchen again, his optics lingering anywhere but on Primus. I don't know why you'd be concerned about my happiness in you, or anything, for that matter.
Primus:	Primus starts cutting the cake up into large slices, politely ignoring Megatron's need to not look at him. I worry quite a bit about you all.
Megatron:	He watches the cake being sliced, still frowning as he thinks. After a moment of silence he snorts softly, scowl deepening. Not enough to intervene when we're being tormented by other Gods and their minions. Bitterness seeps through his words, and now he looks at Primus, his expression almost angry.
Primus:	Primus watches Megatron for a long moment, before sitting back in his chair, regarding the Decepticon with a calm expression. You've so far all handled it marvelously.
Megatron:	Certainly. Except for the trauma caused from being tortured, we're all still alive. Does someone have to die before you intervene? Because honestly, I fail to see what good a god is if he can't protect his creations from other gods. It doesn't seem quite fair we're expected to fend for ourselves against them. And he's recovered from his initial nervousness, reverting back to his usual stubborn and arrogant self. Even in the face of the creator, he refuses to be cowed--much.
Primus:	Smiles and serves himself a piece of cake, gesturing with his fork for Megatron to do the same. Still alive and moving forward. You do so wonderfully for yourselves... And I can't intervene, in any case.
Megatron:	...why not? Stubbornly, he only glances at the cake, then back to Primus. Then back to the cake. ....ok. He'llhaveapiece.
Primus:	Still smiling, Primus at least pretends to eat a bite of cake, before looking back up at Megatron. Tell me, Megatron... Would you feel as though you had accomplished anything at all, had I been there doing all the work for you?
Megatron:	He pauses, fork half way to his mouth, staring back at Primus. After a moment, he frowns and shoves the cake into his mouth, chewing it carefully before he speaks. ...that's not what I meant. I don't expect you to do everything for us. In fact, at this point in time, I don't expect much of anything from you. And though he sounds petulant, he's being honest with his feelings on the matter. Though he has no liking for the gods in general, he's not so disrespectful as to lie to them.
Primus:	What, precisely, would you like to know? The question you have for me is rather broad, without clarifications. What would you expect of me? Is the cake all right?
Megatron:	He takes another mouthful of cake. It is -exquisite-, really. Plus, eating gives him time to think. What would he have the god do? Oddly enough, his mind is blank at the moment. Chewing thoughtfully, he leans back in his chair. I don't know. Keep Unicron and his dog away from us. Our lives are hard enough without dealing with bored gods with eating disorders and fire fetishes.
Primus:	There's very little I can do to stop Unicron and Fallen away from you. He does make a slightly annoyed face at the mortal referring to Fallen as a "dog," but there's little he can say to change that opinion. I've tried. Unicron has his own plans, though, and he loves to ignore me. Never mind Fallen, who he can't seem to reach no matter how hard he tries. Life is complicated. :\
Megatron:	Life is complicated, indeed. No need to tell Megatron that twice. He makes a noise as he takes another bite of his cake, then follows it up with some energon. So that's it, he thinks. Unicron and his minion can torture and hurt them while Primus watches. Oddly, he doesn't feel anymore endeared to the god. In fact, a dark scowl graces his face for a moment, then is hidden away once more. He looks up at Primus, his voice even and quiet as he sets down his fork. You just let Optimus do your dirty work, right? With that matrix of yours?
Primus:	...Saving and protecting people is hardly dirty work, Megatron.
Megatron:	Pushes his plate away, staring at Primus with a frown. Maybe it's because he's a Decepticon that he doesn't understand. He knows the matrix has power, that it can keep them safe, but...why does it seem to cause so much suffering for the one who bears it? He can almost hear Prime remind him "With great power comes great responsibility" or some slag like that. It doesn't seem quite fair to him. It is dirty work. Dirty, hard, and unrewarding.
Primus:	Patience is Primus' main virtue, and he takes another minute to eat some more cake before responding. Unrewarding for Gods, yes. But Optimus has his friends all around to appreciate his duty, when the time comes. He has you. It is hardly unrewarding for him.
Megatron:	...it certainly seems unrewarding. He crosses his arms, looking away. He shouldn't speak for Prime, but he can't help feeling the way he does. Appreciation? Is that all the Prime gets in return for putting his life on the line time and time again?
Megatron:	Someone has to ask the hard questions
Primus:	Calmly It is more than I ever received.
Megatron:	... He finds that hard to believe. Stubborn Megatron is stubborn. You're a -god-. People worship you. How is that not being appreciated?
Primus:	Primus laughs lightly, tilting his head at Megatron. And is that what you do? Worship me?
Megatron:	I stopped having faith in anything but myself a long time ago. Bluntly
Primus:	Mm. A popular opinion. And here's a pointed glance for you, Megatron. Worship? He's nothing but a tool to most of the Cybertronians - someone to call on when they need any sort of help, and to disregard otherwise.
Megatron:	He shrugs slightly It keeps me from being disappointed.
Primus:	Disappointed by an old God, at the least. There's no maliciousness or accusation in his tone. Megatron, consider this. The only time I ever hear my children calling for me is during the heat of passion, or when they wish to condemn someone else. Wryly Not precisely the traditional prayer.
Megatron:	Disappointed by pretty much everything, not just deities. It's only recently he's learned that perhaps it's ok to place trust in others--even if there are only a select few. And even then, he's constantly waiting for the ball the to drop. For a powerful overlord, he's quite insecure, though he'd never admit it openly. He studies Primus for a moment, then drags his plate back and picks up his fork. So, is that what you want? Prayer? Maybe more would be open to it if they knew you cared? It's difficult to praise someone when they don't interact much with you. He takes a bite of cake At least for me, anyway.
Primus:	Taking his own bite and chewing for a few moments I've never stopped caring for you. But there are only so many things I can do for you all, and there is nothing I would want to do for you that you could do for yourself.
Megatron:	How do we know you care if you don't tell us? It's an honest question, one of the first that seems not laced with some sort of degree of distain.
Primus:	That is where faith comes in.
Megatron:	I think I speak for many when I say I don't blindly place my faith in just anyone.... Again, matter of fact, not accusatory.
Primus:	I'm sorry, Megatron. I wish I could give you another answer that you would like better... but I'm afraid nothing I say will make you very happy with me.
Megatron:	His plate is clean now, and he looks at the cake, then to Primus, too stubborn to ask if he may have another piece. Well, at least you're honest with me. I can respect that....and appreciate it.
Primus:	Primus just smiles, taking another bite before gesturing to the cake - yes, you may. No need to ask, really - he is a God. I have no reason to lie.
Megatron:	He grunts slightly, not supposing a god would -need- to lie anyway, and slides a piece of cake onto his plate. He's quiet awhile, his optics on the cake he only picks at. Why talk to -me-?
Primus:	Why not you? Wryly Though, you bonding to the keeper of my matrix does lead me to at least want to say hello. I would have invited the both of you together... but, well. He chuckles a little and points his fork at Megatron. I doubt you'd be able to speak your mind so easily with him around.
Megatron:	... Primus has him there. He knows that he'd never speak as freely as he is now if Prime were with him. Not out of fear or being cowed, but out of respect for his partner's faith. He sighs, stabbing at the cake with his fork. ...it seems odd you'd be interested in sitting down with the one who has doomed your 'children' to extinction.
Primus:	Why wouldn't I want to sit with you? You're one of my children as well. And I love you no matter the circumstances.
Megatron:	Now he frowns down at his plate, once more avoiding Primus's optics. How can you? And the 'after what I've done' is left unsaid, but it's there, hanging in the air.
Primus:	Because I love all my children. We all make mistakes, Megatron. Yours are no worse than the ones I have made, or the ones any of my other children have made.
Megatron:	He finds that hard to believe. I killed our entire planet. I don't think any Cybertronian in history has that badge but me.
Primus:	Still patient, Primus just continues to smile at the Decepticon leader. I allowed Fallen to go to Unicron. And I still love him.
Megatron:	... Really can't understand that sort of devotion. Betrayal isn't something he can stomach. Never has been able to, which probably explains why there were very few defectors from the Decepticon cause to the Autobot side of things. I just assumed you championed for the Autobots....
Primus:	I never particularly cared about the factions, Megatron. Lightly It simply seems that the Primes have been under the Autobot flag. It doesn't mean I prefer one faction over another.
Megatron:	...how do you choose a Prime then? He doesn't bother to hide the skepticism on his face. Because it's obviously not determined by strength alone. And there's an ominous tone in his voice, one that says he knows this is a fact, but doesn't elaborate.
Primus:	It isn't just strength, no. There's a... presence, to a Prime. It's hard to describe, really, but no. Physical strength is not a requirement. It's a... spiritual thing, I suppose you could say.
Primus:	Most of the time, the matrix chooses the Prime. I rarely have much of a say in what that thing will do. Lightly
Megatron:	Huh. Well, he can see that. Optimus is fairly spiritual. He picks at his cake a bit more, not feeling hungry again. So it's not a good vs. evil thing.
Primus:	Of course not. He laughs, taking another few bites of his cake. Good and evil is such a... negative way of looking at it, anyway.
Megatron:	Well, that throws him and he looks up, blinking.
Megatron:	...what do you mean?
Primus:	Good and evil gives the image of two separate sides, one incapable of doing wrong, the other incapable of doing right. It's rather black and white. Those who are considered "good" need those who are "evil," just as much the other way around. Neither will do all wrong, or all right.
Megatron:	But who decides? He frowns again, but it's a frustrated frown Who decides what's good and what's evil?
Megatron:	I don't think -I'm- evil. But there are many who'd disagree.
Primus:	That's precisely the problem. The terms - the sides - are just too isolated.
Megatron:	Isolated? He doesn't understand.
Primus:	Perhaps not the best word. But you are not evil - nor is Optimus ultimately good, like many think him to be. Everyone has their flaws, Megatron. The terms "good" and "evil" fail to portray that.
Megatron:	Hn. He doesn't sound entirely convinced, but he thinks it over. You know many would disagree, though. The words evil and good...they're important to our culture. Terms that are tossed about to paint one opinion wrong and the other right. By all purposes, my legacy in our history is 'evil' because I killed, destroyed, ravaged...without remorse. Then again, neither I, nor anyone else I know, has a godly perspective of things. shrugs again
Primus:	As you shouldn't. You are not gods, after all.
Megatron:	No, we're not. Said as if he wouldn't -want- to be one either. Which probably explains why it's so difficult to see things from your perspective. And ours from yours.
Primus:	You know, you're the first one to notice that. Smiling - yeah, being a god isn't all that great, really. I do try, but... We lead very different types of existences.
Megatron:	Being astute has suited me well in the past. He takes a drink of his energon. When I wasn't too blind to see the truth, that is.
Primus:	You did what you thought was right. At the very least, no one can begrudge you that.
Megatron:	For the first time since arriving, he smiles, though it isn't happy or even friendly. Oh, they do. Trust me. He pauses again, his unhappy smile fading as he thinks of a question, but can't seem to find the words to put behind it.
Megatron:	....
Primus:	Well, we did both just agree that the views of gods tend to differ greatly from those of mortals. He polishes off the last of his slice of cake, watching Megatron patiently. Don't worry so much about wording. I'll ask you to clarify if I don't understand.
Megatron:	That gets him to look up suddenly, a stricken look on his face. Did Primus just read his mind? Staring at the god, now worrying about the sudden flurry of thoughts in his head, he opens his mouth and replies. ....uh.
Primus:	He laughs, shaking his head. I'm very, very old, Megatron. I've seen this - been in this exact position, actually, a number of times.
Megatron:	His mouth closes with a click, scowling slightly as Primus laughs. Taking another drink to ease his mind, he looks back at the god, his face carefully closed off now. ....the Allspark. Can...can it be remade, fixed, duplicated...or whatever it is that went into its creation?
Primus:	Primus frowns a bit at that, sadly, and sits back in his chair a bit. ...The short answer is no.
Megatron:	Doesn't let up The long answer?
Primus:	Sighs, as though he expected just that ...The long answer is not one I particularly wish to explain to you. I will tell you, however - I created the Allspark to eliminate the destruction and chaos I could have potentially caused by creating beings by hand. The Allspark was one of a kind, and I cannot simply create another one.
Megatron:	Looks a bit crestfallen, but there is that tenacity in his optics he's known for. But you -can- create, correct. You won't let us die out?
Primus:	You all are going to live for a very, very long time. I don't think a race as young as yours needs to worry about extinction so soon.
Megatron:	He doesn't look satisfied with that answer. Leaning on the table, he pins Primus with a stare, eager for answers. How, if we can't reproduce? There are only a couple hundred of us left. On catastrophe and we're finished.
Megatron:	*One
Primus:	And now Primus looks a mixture of sad and... almost exasperated, as if he doesn't really want to go into detail. Are you questioning a god for your own personal amusement, or because you honestly believe you'll understand any reasons I might give you? I've done this before, Megatron.
Megatron:	I find -nothing- amusing about this. Now he's angry and offended. You are the -only being I can think of that might lead me in the right direction to fix what I've done. I'm not stupid. Use small words if you have to. Just...toss me a bone. Something. And yes, there is desperation in his voice, hidden under the anger and hurt.
Primus:	You can't fix what you've done. Simply Short of Vector breaking every rule there is and going back in time to stop you from doing something you'd later regret, you are all stuck with what you have. Stop looking at the past, Megatron. You and Optimus are bringing all of my children together again, and that should be enough for you. You all still have a long way to go, and who knows what the future will bring?
Megatron:	He opens his mouth to argue, then just slumps back in his seat, defeated. I...see.
Primus:	I wish I could give you a better answer, Megatron. I'm sorry.
Megatron:	He only nods, not looking at the god as he pushes his chair back and starts to rise. I should go.
Primus:	Mm. Still, Megatron? His holo rises itself, going about cleaning up their places, but his voice comes more from all around than the holo, now. You are all my children. It hurts me no less than it does you.
Megatron:	He heads for the lift, disappointment trailing behind him. Perhaps not directed at Primus himself, but at the situation as a whole. He pauses before he steps inside, turning to look back at the god. The cake...it was good. His facial plates shift a bit and he looks away. ...and I'm sorry. With that, he steps inside and waits for the doors to close.
Primus:	There's always the future, Megatron. The lift's doors shut and the lift starts downwards, blue and purple lights flaring and dimming in slow cycles as the lift descends. Once it hits the hangar, the doors open and Megatron is free to go wherever he likes.
Megatron:	Home. Home is where he wants to go. Wherever that might be now.