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About Liege

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    United States
  • About You...
    I was here a couple years ago but had to move around a lot then got ill. Kinda cut out my forum time but Liege Evilmus never forgot the crew. Cant log into my old account so I'm starting over
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    Clive Barker
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Liege's Achievements


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  1. Happy 4th TFormers!!!

  2. Thanks man, hoping to be back on the regular again soon. still dealing with limited internet
  3. Dude this place went dead. I wonder where everyone is hanging out now? Hopefully not TFW. Hate that place

  4. the site needs a jumpstart!

  5. I'd like to ask you to read the 2 fanfics I posted. They are just that and I have a few others in the works (Magmatron is only half done). Its all how I see the "untold stories" play out but I'd like the imput
  6. Follow the link & ask for prices if none are posted. The CJ Upgrade is reall there for show. I'm constantly adding to this https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10200626127249481.1073741827.1648963698&type=1&l=5a6cc3243e
  7. litzwing & some loose Marvel & Joe figures -and some grilling gear
  8. se Alternety Skywarp for my precasette Ratbat, it just fits the spot perfectly
  9. what happened to the fanfics!?!

  10. Disclaimer: These are the stories as I see fit and told on my shelves. They may intersect with provided fiction in fact presented through current medias. However they are my stories from my shelves and shouldn’t be confused with anything else.   Beast Wars Neo Magmatron They will burn no more. From time beyond any recollection they were there. It was believed they were built by invaders called the Quintessons. They were only manipulated then. It could be they are as old as Cybertron itself. These origins may never be known. All that is known, is that they will burn no more. These foundries and factories where the Autobots and Decepticons as well as their predecessors where built and poured are now things of the past. Outdated, done. This is a new age, a momentous step in evolution… This is the time of the Predacons! The Static Chambers that charged the generations of Cybertron past have been refined. We have Sparks now. Spring, piston and plates, are now more fluid and versatile. The armored hides are now more permeable and adaptive while sacrificing nothing in durability. It seems endless. The amount of battered once mighty Decepticons who file into the reformatting stations. They may have given up the fight, but it is undeniable that the still have the spirit. Before the treaties, before the wars, before the Golden Age, before the Quints, that warrior spirit has been the legacy of the ‘Cons. It is a legacy I choose to honor. Still, they come. Beaten and bewildered, their servos locked from rust and dent. These are battle scars to be proud of. However they will not due, not in my age. They will be given new bodies. They will be remade more efficient, more flexible. The days of the lumbering giants are over, they will be diminished is size, but never in stature. I will see to that. I will not let their legacies fall to waste via a treaty. Even still, as they join the new era, I can’t let go of the fact that they are not pure Predacon. I can not let go of the fact that even after reformatting, they are still relics of the old inside. . I am pure. I am not a recycled has been. I have never known the hum of the Laser Core in my systems. I was built fresh. An unbreakable skeleton grafted with the finest protoform material. I am the pinnacle of the new age. My spark is so far beyond all others that I have mastery of the skies, land, and depths below all at once. I was built to stand dominant among the Predicons as a symbol of strength as we contend to deal with the Maximals and their counsels. I am perfection, I am Magmatron. I am not the first pure Predacon. Buy no means also shall I be the last. I was manufactured however under very strict guidelines handed down directly from The Tripredicus Counsel. I was to be made as a figure head for the Predacons. I was to be one they could cheer and champion as the diplomatic doings of this day would not hold the interest of the masses. They needed a figure head. Someone who showed true power. They needed someone to idolize in a fear that with out such a pioneer, order would break down, and satiated chaos and rebellion would remerge. Now was not the time for that. I was forged to lead them. My destiny before my very existence. When my parts where rudimentary in diagram, when the static that would make my spark was being refined, I was already determined to rule. I was let from my formation chamber already knowing. I was programmed with a militaristic regality. Endless data tracks of history, tradition, combat, and policy ran rampant through my systems. I had no lack of aggression, but it was quelled by a diplomatic manner. I was brought into this world with a will of my own, however chained with a purpose. I would have this no other way, as I was built to rule. This is how the highest court of the Predacons explained my existence at least. A life upon a pedestal for all to look at and admire. NO! I fully understood the need to keep the current peace. For so many Decepticons the Predicon reformatting was the only way to seek amnesty from war crimes during The Great Wars. Civil unrest would turn an already tight grip over us from the Autobots and Maximals into a stranglehold. I recall the moment of my unveiling to the masses. Many Predacons gathered. Hopeful that their distain for the current lot they held would be lifted, that they would have a true leader who would fight for them amidst the persecution they were subject to. Horns blared, as Flyers crossed the skyways of Darkmount. I stepped forward, proudly adorning regal attire beneath the massive Decepticon emblem that topped the spire. A raise of my hand signaled laser projectors to cover the insignia with that of the Predacons. This was my moment. My clawed fingertips clutched the railing of the balcony. An elite guardian stood to my right and my left. In the corners of the platform my makers and members of the most esteemed Decepticon Houses now reborn Predacon began applauds that where soon drown out by distained boos and jeers. Objects where tossed at the platform, small weapons fire erupted. I and my court where ushered inside the hall of Darkmount by our guards, as Predacon police took over the crowd. The event was an embarrassment, it was broadcast. Surely the Maximals in there debates would taunt and use the footage for some time to enforce their ways even further across Cybertron as well as the territorial expanses. We were doing nothing more then dooming ourselves. I needed to know why. Why was my majesty frowned upon? Why was my might scoffed at? How could I fix the situation? Several deca-cycles passed since then. I stayed refined to my chambers hoping to drown the sting of the event in my studies. The history of the ‘Cons was always a fascination of mine. So much to tell, but so little know. Was it possible that within the data tracks I scrolled through an answer to the Predacon unrest could be found? I studied the history of The Houses of Cybertron. I learned the legend Vector Sigma. I learned of the persecution of the guardian robots. I learned so very much more, none of which gave my light in my dilemma. I wasn’t alone in this. I was after all royalty of sorts, and had my aids. A reliable group who played the rolls of both servants and guardians. They kept a distance, I believe they feared upsetting me. It was discouraging to know that I was somewhat of an outcast even from my own charges. It was in them though that a solution began to form in my mind. I had no intention of ease dropping, but my sensors couldn’t resist a conversation between two of my guard outside my chamber. It would seem Guiledart and Sling where not pleased with their unit captain. I listened closer… Although Killerpunch, was an excellent warrior, they resented him being appointed which caused their former caption Bazooka to stand down. They continued that the respected Bazooka because he earned his right to lead, and they followed him gladly. Killerpunch on the other hand did nothing to earn that type of respect. That was the solution. If I was to lead the Predicons, I had to earn the right too. I knew the Tripredicus Counsel was currently busy in other affairs. They had nearly written me off as a failure, and where trying to devise a new use for me. I however would beat them to the quick. I contacted the Counsel and told them I was to take a lead in Predicon enforcement operations. I would not lead from the shadows of high places but from the front lines like the Decepticon leaders of the past. They refused stating that the technology that went into my development was to important to potentially loose in the current street squabbles. I enforced my decision by telling them that no self respecting Predacon would follow me merely because they were told to. I needed to make my presence as well as my might known. The Counsel conceded and with my guard as my crew, we began our field work. Initial deployments were laughable, simple arguments that needed to be silenced. We escalated our efforts as I had my crew delve deep into the underworld of Cybertron. On several occasions we even worked with the Maximal Guard. I have to say, it did not rest well with me working in unison with them. The operations where a good faith measure between the two factions, however I could not escape a sense of resentment emanating from them. The Counsel grew pleased with my progress, I was proving very useful in fostering relations with the Maximals, and giving good credit to their names. The Predacons were growing to fear me. Not as a leader, but as an oppressor. It seems my intents were going sour. A deployment order came one day. My crew and I were to assist the Maximals in weeding out a vagabond bunch on the outskirts of Kaon. I knew the Maximal commandeer. A freelancer from the House of Convoy. Although he claimed independence, prestige followed him where ever he went. That prestige was confirmed when I spotted a hidden broadcast unit as I scouted the skies. Our sortie was deployed. It did not seem to matter to either of us that we were being watched, at which point I wondered if he knew? No matter, our task was to apprehend and break up a growing tribe of bandits. It was a task we were both eager to begin. We landed expecting an immediate fire fight, however all seemed silent. We walked in caution as I again took to the skies. There seemed to be no threat. Eventualy I found a small pack of bots who looked ready to stand their ground. We made our way to them. Dropping from the air I completed my robot mode ready for combat. The gathering we encountered had a massive amount of determination, but little else. I stood down from my battle mode, however the Maximal beside me did not. His weapons were gargantuan and he readily released them into the crowd. As they scattered I saw what they were defending. It was a small save of energon. Not even enough to power the gathering let alone the bots who I could see hiding in in the worn buildings surrounding us. These bots were powerless. They were stealing for survival, not malice. I looked over at the Maximal who was relentless in his assault. He had one bot pinned to the ground and was ready to thrash him. It was then I acted on behalf of this one and all Predacons. I drew my sword, it’s forged blade jagged. I held back none of my power as I thrust it through his shoulder servo, and forced the handle down. I left him with a tangled mess of scrap where his arm once was, his former appendage now mine. He held is sparking injury and stared up at me in disbelief, cursing my Predacon right, labeling me a traitor . I scoffed at him and pronounced to all the dwellers there that they need not fear persecution. I promised them their counsels would not forget about them in their times of need. The Maximal continued to spit words of scorn at me, at which point I assured him we would be better off with Predacon Pride over Maximal Honor. I made sure my back was to the broadcasters as I departed the scene. They did excellent work capturing the belittled outcasts following me in hope and pride. It was hardly a megacycle after that before I was escorted via armed guard before the Tripredicus Counsel. I had no regrets for my actions, and would face martyrdom with pride. The hall was dark. I could scarily see the chamber members. They spoke clearly with stern tones questioning and begrudging my actions. I held true. They confronted me with the immediate arbitrations of the very unsympathetic Maximals, and cursed my promise to the Predacon masses. I held true. They demanded I apologized to the House of Convoy for my actions. I refused. When they exhausted their processors I finally spoke. I declared that they constructed me to lead the Predacons. I reminded them that the entire reason I was entering field work was to earn their trust in that position. I enlightened them to the situation of our people who where not privileged enough to sit in lofty towers. I asked what type of leader would I be if I stood by idly as a Maximal thrashed the meekest of us? I assured them that I knew of the promise I made and was going to honor it. I reminded them that I was a new construct, I had no allegiance to any particular house, therefore could not sit in the debate chambers. I demanded they show their resolve to the people and in spite of Cybertronian tradition, and in spite of the Maximals, they should appoint me a chair anyway. I would handle my pledge on my own. I would do so within the system. I would prove to everyone that we were more then just the relics of war mongers. I would bring new meaning to Predacon Pride! The Counsel was not pleased with being ordered. I still knew my heads were at risk, however, fate deemed them to concede. My time was nigh. Or so I would believe…
  11. Disclaimer: These are the stories as I see fit and told on my shelves. They may intersect with provided fiction in fact presented through current medias. However they are my stories from my shelves and shouldn't be confused with anything else.   Beast Wars II Galvatron Origins of an Emperor   It began in what was called The Dark Nebula aboard a imprisoned warship ruled by legend Dezaras, and his crew of deposed Decepticons. For ages they trained aboard their ship, honing their skills awaiting the day when they could find release. It was in those days of training that Dezaras constructed and refined his 3 Breast Master companions. He shared the technology to intergraded smaller partners into the bodies of his fellow Decepticons. He wondered during this time if his once contemporary Soundwave ever furthered his advancement in this new field as well. Still, in the nebula, the training continued in true Decepticon style. Brutality and fatalities where par for course in the rings. The warship being refitted with the husks of bots who could go on no more. Dezaras ruled these fights, taking on all challengers, and suffering not the pleads of mercy of those forced in to his sights when none would stand tall. It was in one of these events of slaughter that we truly begin. A Decepticon named Arnil was shoved into the fight ring with nothing but a small hand blaster. He wasn't a warrior. He was a maintenance class bot. He pleaded for mercy. Dezaras lorded over him and as always promised him none. He ejected his 3 Breast Force minions to ripen Arnil's fear. The Griffin, Eagle, and Hornet like figures swooped and swarmed violently around Arnil. The crowed cheered for him to fight, as Dezaras stood tall laughing. Arnil drew into himself curling into a ball with each pass of the breast force. He could feel the vibrations in the ground, Dezaras was moving closer. He could hear him mocking him, calling him a coward, demanding that he fight! Arnil peaked from behind his shoulder hinge, pointed his blaster in what he hoped was Dezaras' general direction and fired blindly. In an act of chance, or perhaps fate, the Hornet, Dezaras' inner most component was struck down. It fell to the floor, broken circuits and shell twitching on the ground.. The crowds fell silent. Dezaras felt a sting he hasn't felt since his imprisonment . He gazed over the wreck for an instant before the rage that filled his eyes was turned on Arnil. The maintenance bot cowered with his weapon cast to the ground before him. Dezaras moved in ever closer. Arnil continued to beg as the Decepticon Lord seized him by his head. He listened to the pleas grow louder, then garble as he crushed the mech fluid out of Arnil's head with bare hands. Arnil's lifeless body thumped loud as it hit the ground and echoed, through the taken aback crowd. Dezaras, picked up his fallen minion. With his two surviving pieces following in tandem, silently left the arena. In his private quarters, he put the hornet on support to keep his laser core active. He deliberated what to do with it. He didn't want to repair it, because he felt it was to weak to support him in battle. He didn't want to destroy it either, as once it was a part of him. With no clear plan, he left it, hoping in time an answer would be made clear…. In the Nebula that day never came. In his escape however Dezaras stepped to a front that should have been his from the start. With Megatron long deposed and no clear leader in sight, he finally took his place as The Emperor of Destruction. He reveled in vengeful battle against Star Saber who imprisoned him, and among other things, wanted to lay waste to the Earth as it truly was both a great source of energon, as well as a clear factor in the constant defeats of the Decepticons before him. Dezaras hated the flesh germs, and saw them as fodder for his destructive amusement. It was in these acts of destruction and torture however that something struck a cord with him. The smaller flesh creatures known as children reminded him of his own minions. He studies their origins and learned that "families" where similar to the Houses of Cybertron. He felt a kinship to the idea, relating his minions as his "children". Dezaras wanted to further the idea of his "family". Between the battles, he began working on his "son" the hornet minion, he kept on life support for so long. As he rebuilt and upgraded his systems, he began educating and refining his "son" he named Gelvin. Dezaras kept Gelvin a secret though from all but his most trusted fearing he may be used as a pawn against him. Gelvin developed. As he did, he honored and idolized his "father" This gave Dezaras great pride. Gelvin fueled his ego and ambitions, as each day his son pleased him all the more. With trust well established in Gelvin, Dezaras entrusted him with a secret project of his. In his questing, Dezaras discovered a transector body meant for the original Megatron. He believed it designed by the fallen Galvatron which he knew little about. Dezaras had something for the lifeless shell in his archives. A gift from his old acquaintance Soundwave. It was a partial copy of Megatron's processor inscription made long before the great war had begun. Dezaras explained to Gelvin that this would be his brother. He told him that above all else, he must be watchful and aid one another as they were "family" Together they raised up Megatron. Gelvin kept this new Megatron close as he seemed both brilliant, and very naïve. It was undeniable though, they where brothers. Dezaras sat in awe watching them together, seeing his "family" grow. One day, they grew restless. The asked their father if they could join him on one of his outings. Dezaras refused, and ordered them to stay aboard the warship. Dezaras transformed, and flew into an awaiting fray of battle. As with all children in the universe though, no matter how loyal, will eventually sub come to a taste of rebellion. Megatron's feet fastened to keep up with Gelvin as his mouth moved just as fast suggesting they listen to father. Gelvin however was determined to see his father glorious on that battle field. He pondered all the times he dreamt of joining him side by side there in Victory. The two boarded a small shuttle pod, and chased after Dezaras. Gelvin full of pride, and Megatron still filled with nervousness and anticipation. They tracked Dezaras. Gelvin was astounded to know he was in a dual with his long time rival Star Saber. What a sight he thought, to see his father cut down his jailor and advisory once and for all. Gelvin and Megatron hid behind the outskirts of the battle not daring to interrupt, but eager to pounce in cheer upon their father in his moment of victory. They watched. They watched their father fight strong. The watched their father take a volley of abuse and smirk in the face of it all. They watched him deliver punishment back in kind. They watched as the battle raged for nearly an eternity. And they where there when the sword snapped, and the Decepticon who raised them was made to fall. Darkness descended upon the two. Both in disbelief that the one who they always saw as so large and indestructible was made no more. Megatron did all he could to keep silent. Once Star Saber left. He ran to the side of his father crying out as his color began to fade to the grim grey. Gelvin rushed out behind him. He looked only once upon Dezaras, but was more concerned with his brother. Gelvin knew more Autobots would be coming to collect the remains. They had no time. Gelvin knew from his father's teachings there would be no place safe for the two without him. The Autobots would be untrusting, and the Decepticons would consider the husks of the two trophies from the house of a fallen emperor. They escaped the scene in their shuttle and headed into space. Aimless in direction, they traveled from space port to space port keeping low key. The jobs they suffered from for energon ranged from maintenance workers, to post centuries. The two however where always nervous, looking over their shoulders, and fleeing whenever they thought they might be discovered for who they truly were. Still, they traveled. They spent time on Earth. Planet Zone, Char, they even raked the pits of Goo. Eventually they found their way to Cybertron and took refuge there. It pitted their cores watching the broadcast ceremony of Star Saber handing the role of leadership to Dai Atlas. The two still lamented the Autobot commander. Gelvin would often get lost day dreaming about revenge upon him.   They studied and learned as much as they could about Transformer history. They took in everything from hearing about the Nemesis, to the unbelievable story of Unicron. They even sought out the aging remains of someone who their father held in the highest regard. It was with no great ease that they eventual found court and counsel with Soundwave. They explained who they were to him, and in chambers, he explained to them his relation with Dezaras. How Dezaras was going to be chosen as the first of the unified Decepticons as Emperor of Destruction, and how his confinement gave way to Megatron taking that title instead. For the first time ever, Soundwave declared that Gelvin was truly the heir to that title. This was a private meeting. Not even Soundwave's personal forces where allowed to attend. There would be no chance of privy in sharing the information that was put forth. Gelvin felt his father's power surge within him with this declaration. However, he also knew that his body was not up to the task of taking that roll. Megatron, smiled and hailed his brother in the moment. That simple act aggravated Soundwave. He knew the bot this Megatron was based on personally. He served him loyally. This bot was not worthy of the name. The moment was cut short as Soundwave struck Megatron down in his Leader's Honor. In verbalism and hand he assaulted Megatron. Megatron in fear and awe was on the floor as the Decepticon General lorded over him. Gelvin however would have none of it and charged the much larger Decepticon toppling him. Soundwave gazed up at Gelvin, shirking any honor he felt towards the son of Dezaras and began to rear up. Gelvin knew he couldn't defeat him, but stood his ground. Emperors don't run. Soundwave pushing himself up, was quickly dropped back to the floor as his arms separated at the elbow hinge. Megatron stood to the side of him. His shoulder cannon smoking. He feared the Decepticon, but would not leave his brother to face him alone. Especially on his behalf. Soundwave was in shock, but continued to rise. Gelvin recalled his training, and one of his father's finishing moves. He seized Soundwave by the head, however it was to big for his hands to crush.. Instead he used a extruding blade in his arm and thrust it into Soundwave's laser core and ripped out his reactor instead. One of the founders of the modern Decepticon era, sparked on the floor. The grim grey consuming him. Gelvin rose to his feet. He looked at Megatron who seemed less nervous then usual. Megatron once again, hailed his brother. The two knew they had to run. A price would be on their heads now for sure. Before they left Soundwave's domicile though, they downloaded as many of his data tracks that they could for later review. The rest they sent to be stored in the remains of their shuttle pod. It couldn't fly any longer, but still had a purpose. They set charges and escaped in secret from the domicile. From afar they watched it burn level. Gelvin and Megatron toasted on stolen energon as they watched Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw circle the billowing smoke knowing they were the sole owners of the largest private collection of information on all of Cybertron. As they traveled they upgraded themselves as they could. Some components earned, some stolen. Anything to get by in these meager times. As Gelvin scrolled through the stolen data tracks, he learned of something called "The Maximal Protocol" It was an upgrade for Transformers on the whole. A way to make them more enegron efficient in bodies that were more versatile to changing environments. A combination of Cyberton heritage and the flesh creatures cell biology. As if there could be such a thing? As he read on, he learned that even though The Great Wars were over, the Decepticons, were seemingly forced to go along with the upgrade. It was partly meant to shed the idea of faction and further unite the civilization. The compromise was that they would go through with the upgrade, but remain a faction called "Predicon" in honor of the 5 Gestalt Warlords.. Deciding to hide in plain sight. Gelvin decided that the easiest way to avoid attentions they were bound to receive from vengeful Decepticons was to be no more. He and his brother would volunteer for the Predicon upgrade, and once again, assume new lives again. In examination, the plan nearly fell apart. Both bodies came from an unknown source and where riddled with unauthorized repairs and upgrades. They feared rejection when a Predicon scientist Sky Shadow suggested that many bots in the expanse, surviving on there own will be in the same situation. He went on that it would be a good idea to see how the reformatting would effect Decepticons who are in this state. Approved, the two underwent the treatment. As two of the first to undergo the process, they emerged still looking mostly Decepticon. They noticed their movements were much more fluid though. There were fewer skipping gears and joints. Internally is where the true changes came into play as they could feel a tingling glow. Predicons, and Maximals where to have slimmed down cores, reactors, and processors. There essence was now mostly confined to something called a "spark" Soundwave's notes were correct. Transformers have learned to isolate their life-forces. It was the true purpose of The Maximal Protocol. Now even with a body completely decimated, a spark could live on. The transfer was made in the past with great effort. This simplified the problem of mortality though. If only Dezaras had know. Gelvin wished more then anything that he could go back in time and let him know. Megatron jested that maybe Soundwave had information on that as well. It was a suggestion that Gelvin took seriously. He kept the idea of that plot in the back of his processor, hoping one day he would be able to act on it. Gelvin and Megatron, now calling himself Megastorm for identities sake stayed in the research facilities for a while. Learning what they could of their new Predicon bodies. The two snickered to themselves when the Maximal Rodimus brought in the rouge Ravage to be mind wiped and upgraded. Gelvin often volunteered for further experimental upgrading. He wanted power, they had it to give. Megastorm however was far more reluctant for more upgrading, instead refining and upgrading his shoulder weapon. They learned how things functioned in this peace time. They even met members of The Tripredicus Counsel. It upset Gelvin and Megastorm that the title of Emperor of Destruction was no more. Given way to tribunals, senates and so forth. He was told by Sky Shadow that he was incorrect in that assumption. The title of Emperor of Destruction was still very much in use. It seems that as the Decepticons were agreeing to be upgraded they wanted to keep their traditions in conjunction with their compromises. Sky Shadow went on that high ranking Predicons would chose champions offered from the different houses who in true Decepticon style battle in tournament for the title. Sky Shadow offered that he would be willing to advocate Gelvin to someone who could sponsor him in the tournament. After all, he wanted to see how well his finest subject would fair. Gelvin asked why he never heard of this competition. Sky Shadow confided in him that they were held secretly to avoid the interference of Maximal and Autobot nay sayers. It was strictly for Predicons and the ever dwindling numbers of the Decepticons. Gelvin refused Sky Shadow's offer. He told him that he and his brother would have to train first before entering a competition like that. However he would take him up on it when the time was right. Shortly after, Gelvin and Megastorm left the upgrade complex. Megastorm wanted to stay. He enjoyed the comforts. Even though he had Gelvin's blessings, he knew he couldn't leave his brother. Not ever. The two returned to their shuttle pod and took refuge there. They where surprised that it wasn't uprooted in a search for them. For the first time in a very long time, the fear of being hunted crept back into their systems. However, as Rumble and Overkill learned before their lifeless bodies where tossed into landfill. They where stronger now. Let any other vengeful hunters come! The brothers did as they promised, they trained. They kept in contact with Sky Shadow. In secret, plotted, and studied. Three things began to consume Gelvin. Megastorm grew afraid for his brother's growing obsessions, but continued following him in support keeping more as an anchor to the real world instead of being a pessimist. He knew his brother was to smart to fall into madness. It was best to let him keep plotting. Still, the constant talk of Unicron, temporal travel, and grand vengeance, made Megastorm very nervous. For days Gelvin would keep to himself. Megastorm always watchful of anyone who would disrupt him. Megastorm grew mindful of his brothers dedication as he noticed even in rest, he was still working on his schemes. Megastorm knew this is why he couldn't be chosen Emperor. He lacked that type of total dedication to a cause. He also knew these unconscious mutterings would be something else he'd have to protect his brother from. Who knows what secrets he may let slip eventualy. Megastorm made an oath to himself to never let anyone know about this. Time passed as it often does. Gelvin continued his research emerging less and less to spar with Megastorm. Megastorm was contacted by Sky Shadow. He was concerned as he hadn't heard from them in a while. He wanted to let them know the next tournament was to be held in 8 cycles, and was wondering if they would be interested. Megastrom assured Sky Shadow he would relay the message, and did just that. Gelvin grit his teeth at the news. He contacted Sky Shadow quickly, and asked simply if the tournament was still to be held in secrecy? Sky Shadow assured him. Even he didn't know it's true location. Gelvin told him to find out, and forward the details. The then cut off the pleased scientist quickly. For the first time in a long time he emerged from his quarters. Megastorm was ordered to follow behind him and did as such. He asked Gelvin where they were going, to which he replied they had to prepare for their entrance. They traveled far across Cybertron, to the towers that skirted Iacon. They marched through the construction sites of Cybertroplis and stood before one of the last of the great halls. Gelvin didn't look back at his brother, but asked, "are you with me? If you want to turn back, now is the time" "I'm with you" is all Megastorm needed to say. Gelvin already knew that. He had to be sure though in this moment so long in coming. Day passed, and they hid in near by scaffolding. Part of a construction tube being built through the tower. A tram for the new city. They made their entrance through that. They slipped through the corridors. Gelvin studied the buildings layout till he could see it in his head. It let him slip right through security. As long as Megastorm followed in pace. There would be no problems. The two entered a high pass into a great hall. Suspended from the ceilings and rafters where many trophies acquired by the Autobot recharging below. The brothers slipped silently through the collection. As they grew closer, they noticed their luck couldn't be better. He was merged with his partner Victory Leo. They kept edging closer. Gelvin waved his hand for Megastorm to stop. He was taken aback and rage fueled as he stared at a broken blade mounted on a wall. It's dings glinted sparks of a thousand memories of what this Autobot did. Gelvin waved Megastorm into position. Using only his hands he marked what should be his target. When Megastorm was lined up, Gelvin changed his mind. This wouldn't be murder in cold fluid. He took one of his arm blades and cut a chain holding up the remains of Komori. He was sure his ghost would be pleased to play a part in this. Victory Saber awoke with a start and narrowly dodged the taxidermied beast. He had no time to think though as a shot in the dark shattered his right optic. It was a blast that was not alone. Megastorm did not relent in the bombardment, Star Saber's head armor was being blasted away. Gelvin then made his move as Victory Leo began to separate form the pare. He darted for the framed blade shard and grabbed hold of it firmly. He spun around and dove quickly with it driving it into Star Saber's chest, while Megastorm redirected his focus on the pieces of Victory Leo in mid assembly. The lion was destroyed. Megastorm emerged from the shadows to inspect his kill. Gelvin, reveling in the moment tore the Brain Master, Saber from the larger form. He lorded over him as he thrashed him. With each blow, and slash of Gelvin's blades he demanded Saber tell him who he was. Saber, muttered to his last that he did not know… Gelvin refused to relent until the grim grey began to take Saber. It was only in those final moments that he declared himself Emperor of Destruction. He memorized the shock in Saber's face, then denied the grim grey and smashed it himself.   Dezaras, Gelvin and Megastorm's father was final avenged after so many cycles of waiting. The two knew the had to be away. They just had to claim their prize. Ready to depart, one more thing caught his optics. Something he had not seen since his youth on the warship. Dezaras was making an upgrade for himself. Something to do with experimental energon. He took the orb as well, promising to learn about it later. Megastorm blasted a hole in the tower, and the pair made off into the night as countless security forces heralded their coming in the back rounds. The cycle before the tournament, Sky Shadow contacted Gelvin with the location of the tournament. He assured Gelvin that there would be no interference from the Maximals or Autobots especially with Star Saber's assassin still at large. Gelvin assured Sky Shadow that he and Megastorm would be there. Sky Shadow commented that he hoped they trained hard. The reigning champion Magmatron was impressive even for a dignitary. The tournament came. The fighters gave their best. One by one they fell as new potential champions advanced. In the stands, Sky Shadow sat in quite shame. Cicadicon kept reminding him that he passed on a very talented fighter from the house of Archadis, however he instead decided to back Sky Shadow's "Great Gelvin". The tournament was drawing to a close. The fatalities were fewer then last year to the disappointment of many. The winner and reigning champion Magmatron was about to be crowned once again as Emperor of Destruction.He knew the title wasn't what it use to be. However it only enforced his position on the benches he sat and deliberated from. The closing ceremony was grand. Predicons, and Decepticons cheered. Before the final decree was uttered. The arena shuttered violently. The jostled crowd grew silent as the roof was blown open and debris caused the most regal presenters to scatter. Magmatron stood center in the ring, but was far from alone in shock. At first a speck, a shape began to form in the hole in the roof. Slowly it lowered. Magmatron demanded to know what was happening as Star Saber's Sky Sled grew ever closer crackling with energon emanating from the orb in Gelvin's chest. Atop the sled, Gelvin with his brother always close at hand declared to Magmatron, and the rest of the Predicons that now they had to face Galvatron, the true and rightful Emperor of Destruction…     From The Shelves Of Liege Evilmus
  12. Broke down today and picked up Voyager Predaking, he's fun. I also found a bunch of PRID figures in a close out shop so I scored a Seargent Kup & Arcee. They arent bad either, probably gonna use them as trade fodder though
  13. TF commercials have rarely been great. The show is awesome though. As a older fan I love the sense of maturity it brings while still being amuzing As for the toys, the First Editions knocked me off my feet, then they pulled that RID crap, I sold off most as soon as I bought them. It happens though, every now and then Hasbro hits a rut and things suck for a couple years then they bring back the awesome. It just is what it is
  14. I dont know what happened to that first sentence. It was supose to say, "I cant see him showing up"
  15. Ihowing up. We're a third of the way through the final season & the show is taking its time still. I'm just figuring him as a one shot toy who doesnt really make much sense to me. He's a space pirate lion with a Davey Jones like head!?!
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