Ξ Sempiternal Beleaguer Ξ

Notes:

• Sempiternal: eternal and unchanging; everlasting

• Beleaguer: lay siege to; beset with difficulties

• Literal Translation: "Eternal Siege" / "Unchanging Besetment"

• Pre-Age of Extinction; 2013 (Spoiler Alert / Future Chapters)

Inspired By: Selectracks — "Fate [J2 Remix]"

Disclaimer:

I only claim ownership to my original characters (OCs) and any other non-canon material unless otherwise stated.

The Transformers® franchise, including all canon characters, etcetera, are owned by Hasbro (and secretly engaged by the government to hide the Cybertronians' existence on Earth). Along with all those other fantastic animators and writers that commission and head the many other TransVerses. Lucky them.

Legend:

"Normal"

Thoughts / Sounds

"Phone / Muffled / Abstract"

{ Radio / Communications }

Text Message / Citation / Lyrics

( Flash-Back / Scenery Change )

Ξ Sempiternal Beleaguer Ξ

Ω Prologue Ω

My name is Alissa Beauregard. I enjoy a good many things, one of them being working with computers and electronics of all sorts, whether it be dismantling items, putting them together, or playing with programming. Another was a love for the outdoors; hiking, biking, running, and so forth. The various others include, but are not limited to: ATV trail riding, an interest in mechanics (more of a dream than anything, really), writing, reading, researching random junk on the internet, watching the sunrises—yada, yada, yada.

Overall, I lived a decently "average" life; lots of spice, plenty of things to do. I enjoyed living it, too.

However, the world flip-flopped when news of the Transformers escaped to the public eye after the fateful battle in Chicago. Mass suicides, terrified governments, and spiritual revelations were just a few of the horrors and tragedies that took place after that eventful moment in time, and it revealed just how easily a stick pulled from the dam could cause a flood—and how the human mind could be changed just as easily.

Fear was the immediate emotion the human race turned to, myself included. Fear was the cause of so many wrongs taken out that year and thus far, and it is an emotion that cannot be tamed or contained. Fear is what drove me to make a grave mistake—one that I still regret, and one that I will never forget.

After I made that decision, I decided to put everything I knew to the test. I dug deep into a labyrinth of information I wasn't supposed to see, and went further than I should have—and oh, it was worth the effort. All those folly tales the government told for their sick propaganda and showcased campaigns had been lies. All of them: Lies.

Now that I've chosen my alignment, I can't look back—can't stop and think of the present moment—only anticipate the future. So far, that's what's kept me alive, but I always have to wonder: How long will that last?

Ξ Sempiternal Beleaguer Ξ

Ω I: Identification Ω

( Medford, Oregon, USA Ξ 14:52, 03-09-13 )

The sunlight shone through the trees in little shafts of rays, the warm glow keeping the temperature enjoyable as I lounged on the creek shore. There was no wind, the trees standing still, towering up and arcing over in a beautiful and rather surreal twist of branches and leaves.

The water trickled by absently, and I had since grown fond of the pretty noise, my back on the sandy bank with legs crossed ahead as I listened intently. There were no creatures making any noise that day, which was rather surprising, but didn't concern me in the least.

Grey cargo pants, a black tank top, and a striped, black-and-green jacket tied around the hips; that was my idea of a perfect getup. Nothing fancy, nothing shabby—simply casual.

A little chirp interrupted me, and I opened my eyes, smirking when I was met by the pudgy face of my cat, Gunder. He was a rather fat, grey-and-white cat, with swayback and slight arthritis in his hips. Poor thing didn't exactly purr or meow, but man did he chirp like a bird.

Gunder leaned over and licked my nose, to which I snorted and reached up to stroke his back. Rolling over, I stood up, brushing the sand from my brown hair and off my clothing. My hair was a curly, tangled bird's nest, but at the moment, I couldn't have cared less, sucking in a deep breath of air and relishing my surroundings one last time.

"You want food?" I murmured, receiving no reply. I knew what he wanted. Rubbing the cat spittle off my face, I rolled my neck, inhaling as I worked my way up the bank and through the ferns. Gunder was on my heels in the knick of time, racing ahead through the brush and disappearing down the stairs and allegedly through the back door of the small house I owned.

"Linksys!" I called, pausing at the top of the stairs and looking around the yard. Linksys, or just "Links" for short, was my other cat. As some people may assume by the name, he was named after the modem because he always slept on it when he was a kitten. It's too small for him to sleep on, now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't still use it as a butt-warmer.

The lean, brown cat tore across the grass, slowing down once he neared the railing. He knew it was feeding time, and that was probably the only reason he had come so fast. Linksys actually purred and meowed, and was very fit for a cat—the complete and utter opposite of his brother.

Humming, I reached down and stroked his back, scratching him by the base of his tail and huffing when he stuck his butt and tail up into the air in reply. Standing back up straight, I adjusted my tank top, descending down the stairs and opening the door to the kitchen, Links bursting in ahead of me to meet his brother at the bowl.

Sauntering across the black, wooden floor, I snatched the bag of cat food from the pantry, face twisting in irritation when foot began spilling from a little hole in the corner of the bag. Setting the bag back down, I faced the two cats, already knowing what to do.

"No," I stated firmly, watching as Gunder ducked a bit. Yep, he was the culprit. Linksys continued grooming himself, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as I instead grabbed the bowl and held it to the corner of the bag.

However, the moment I set the bowl down, both cats shoved their faces into it, not even caring that my hand was still in the way as the obnoxious chompchompchomp filled the otherwise-silent room.

Passing by the old CDR television, I turned it on without even looking at it, stalking up to the white, faded cupboard and rifling through the shelves in search of something for lunch. It was probably time to go to the store, which, to my convenience in life, was just a couple of blocks away.

"… Chicago, the city of desolation by Autobot hands."

I looked away from what I was doing, squinting at the TV.

"Joint operations between the Autobots and the government-founded 'Non-biological Extraterrestrial Species Treaty,' or 'NEST,' have been decommissioned. Please report any alien activity to 855-363-8392…"

"Bullshit," I muttered, unplugging the television entirely and walking back to the still-opened door, planning on going to buy something to eat. Grabbing my wallet on the way out, I closed the door behind me, careful not to take the cats' tails with it as I ascended up the stairs and around the house.

I lived in a very tight neighborhood, which was rather unpleasant to me, but I was satisfied as long as there was a bit of land behind my property. That's where the creek was, and I expected them to keep it that way. If they touched it, I'd personally loved to have castrated them with a stapler; I loved the feel of untouched beauty such as the back country.

"Mornin', 'Lissa!" I looked up from the pavement, smiling and waving back to an old neighbor acquaintance of mine. I hadn't spoken to him—or anyone for that matter—in what seemed like forever, but Jim was a really nice guy. He was older than myself, and he had acted like a brother to me when my real brother died in Chicago.

"Morning, Jim!" I called back, passing by and rounding the street corner.

Looking both ways, I darted across the busy road, careful not to get in anyone's way as I booked it into the mercantile.

In the short time I was there, I had gathered the essentials, with the total stacking up to a pricey $106.73. Mostly groceries, though. The store manager, Carry, said I could borrow a shopping cart if need be, to which I thanked her and went on my way.

Sparing a glance over my shoulder, I didn't notice the woman crossing in front of the door, letting go of the cart as soon as I realized what I had done.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry—" I cut myself off as I rounded the cart, dropping into a squat to help her pick her items up.

"Oh, don't worry. Nothing that can't be replaced," she huffed, beginning to pocket everything as I handed it to her. "Thank you kindly." She ran a hand through her hair, standing up and heaving the box over her shoulder once more.

"Not a problem." I nodded, standing up and watching as she placed the box into the back seat of her car, closing the door and rounded the fender. Popping open the driver's side, she hopped in, and I blinked, shaking myself from my daze. Shrugging my backpack onto my shoulders more comfortably, I took a step forward before an uncomfortable crunch! met my ears.

I narrowed my eyes, lifting my foot and spotting an expensive-looking iPhone—face down on the gravel-like concrete. Face twisting with a look of faint panic and confusion, I leaned down and grabbed it, quickly turning it over to see what damage had been caused. Nothing? No scratches, even? I wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved or utterly dumbfounded.

When I looked over to address the women before she drove off, I found I was too late, the car having already gone. Whatever. I could unlock the phone and get her information to return it to her once I got home.

ҩ Sempiternal Beleaguer ҩ

( Medford, Oregon, USA Ξ 21:49, 03-09-13 )

"Oh, come on!" The phone wouldn't turn back on, no matter how much I pressed the buttons or tried charging it. I was considering opening it up and checking the connections, but decided against it. Groaning, I set it down on the desk, deciding dinner was of the essence at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes, grabbing the dirty dishes from breakfast and making my way downstairs, where I dumped the ware into the sink and rinsed them off. The cats were asleep on a certain spot in the floor where the heated water ran through the pipes, making it warm to the touch. I huffed in satisfaction, grabbing the now-cold toast from the dispenser (I had forgotten it as soon as the phone came back to mind) and setting it on a clean plate with the browning apple slices.

With that, I grabbed a cup to accompany it, filling the glass with water and snatching my allergy medication from the counter. Being meticulous about where I stepped so I wouldn't disturb or step on the cats, I charged as silently as possible up the stairs (hoping I didn't sound like a bat out of Hell), turning the corner and heading for my room.

Raising the glass and downing the medication, I stepped back into my personal space, nearly having a heart attack when I saw a little green-eyed, metallic thing sitting on my desk. I had to force myself to swallow, free hand slapping on my mouth as I reeled back into the doorway with a loud smack. This was enough to alert the small creature of my presence, and it shrieked shrilly, skittering off the oak and onto the floor as it made a beeline for the bed.

Green… not a Decepticon. Exhaling sharply, I set the cup and dinner plate on the desk, pinching the bridge of my nose in momentary thought. My head whipped around toward the bed, frame following on its own as I got down onto my hands and knees and approached the bed, brows knitted intensely.

"Hey… I'm not gonna hurt you," I soothed, suddenly realizing I'd probably be afraid of my own voice, had I not been the speaker. I sounded like a crusty gorilla who had swallowed a washing drum and some pebbles—not the prettiest thing on Earth.

Reaching out and grabbing the spread, I lifted it up a bit, remaining unmoving when a small squeak emitted from somewhere behind the many boxes residing in the dust-bunny abyss. Pursing my lips, I grasped the whole spread, rising up on my knees and pushing the heavy duvet and sheets up onto the bed entirely. From there, I crawled backwards until I was sitting by the desk, crossing my legs and waiting patiently.

It took a bit of time, though I'm not sure how long, since I wasn't really paying attention. I had been swarmed deep in neck-high thoughts of what I was going to do when it came out, and how to assess its presence. There was no way I was going to turn it in, money or not. I couldn't keep it hidden here, either, though—no, with monitoring that would be much too risky.

Inadvertently, I looked over to the computer monitor, eyes fixed on the webcam in the eerie silence. I hated it, really. I wanted a way out of it. But I'd be damned before a stranger stopped me from assisting a Transformer somehow—somehow. That was the least I could do for them.

As soon as I turned back to the bed, I stilled, blinking as two, innocent green eyes stared back at me. Tilting my head, I waited patiently, smiling lightly at the sound of its skittering appendages on the wood floor.

"It's okay—"

It jumped, almost like a cat, shrinking up into a phone and clattering to the floor in a scared frenzy. Well, that answered one question: How it got there. It must've been hiding as the lady's phone. Or maybe it got in here somehow and scanned the phone.

I bit my lower lip, leaning forward a bit hesitantly to touch it. As soon as my hand met the warm metal, I froze, before stroking it softly. Once I had completed the action, I sat back up straight, folding my arms over my chest and seeing what would happen next.

Skritchskritchskritch.

I had to refrain from laughing, compensating with a smug smirk when two little eyes transformed up out of the bottom of the phone to meet my gaze curiously. Slowly, it transformed into the small bot I had seen earlier, skittering across the floor and taking me by surprise as it buried itself in the jacket I had tied around my waist.

Deciding to leave the Transformer be, I leaned my head back against the desk, yawning as I glared up at the ceiling. A little nap never hurt anyone.

ҩ Sempiternal Beleaguer ҩ

( Medford, Oregon, USA Ξ 0:23, 03-10-13 )

There was a sharp bang! downstairs, eyes snapping open and gaze flicking in the direction of the door curiously. Narrowing my eyes, a large lump worked its way up my throat as footsteps ascended up the stairs, suddenly ceasing completely.

I remained on the floor, reaching behind me grabbing the knife I used to sharpen pencils from the desktop and clutching it like a lifeline. There was a loud thud, leading me to slowly stand up and take a step backwards. The little critter had already transformed back into a phone; I reached down and pocketed it quickly, holding the knife in one hand with the other supporting the butt of the weapon for extra force.

Rounding the corner with a grunt, my hands were caught, and I dropped the weapon in sudden regret of what could have just happened. With a finger to his mouth, there stood a young male clad in a tan, digitalized camouflage outfit.

When I studied his features in my panic, I recognized him immediately, remaining frozen and shaking where I stood. My eyes widened in disbelief, jaw ajar as I struggled to produce words. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes from the mere sight of the man, my shoulders slumping with slanted brows. I couldn't believe it.

My voice was barely a breath, an octave higher than usual and nothing more than a squeak. "Connor?"

Author's Notes:

I've not abandoned "Classified Terminal," but this plot bunny has been biting me in the backside since I went to see Age of Extinction opening night. I needed to get it written down—really, really badly.

Alissa's past will be touched upon more genuinely later on, if this is taken on as a multi-chapter. Everything was a bit jumbled in this chapter for the purpose of divvying it up and throwing in the most important facts and events first.

Rather cliché entry for Connor. Whoops. I promise I'll try not to do that again, but I had to keep the idea going. I felt this installment was rather choppy, so I apologize—though some of the choppiness will be made up for in future chapters, should I decide to continue. This one felt a little rushed, as well, but I have my reasons for that.

So: Yes? No? Maybe? What do you think so far? Did I leave enough unanswered questions to catch one's interest? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to leave a review or drop me a PM with any questions, comments, or other concerns or stuff you may have to say.

-Tex