It wouldn't leave me alone.

This is Alternate Universe in it's purist form.

I own nothing, besides Madame Clairvoyant.

It came to me while I was listening to Friends on the Other Side.

No, this probably won't follow the Princess and the Frog.

I'm not even sure if there will be romance (hah! Romance...)

Rating is M for language and violence in the near future.

Eh, I don't know. You're probably tired of reading me ramble on, so go ahead and skip down.

Oh, also (lol afterthought) I apologies if Megs seems a bit OOC here.

I'm not used to writing fics for him. This is my first.

(*off in the distance, the sound of a MegatronFiction Cherry is heard popping*Bonzai!)

You Do Have A Soul, Don't You?

An Abnormal Day

Saying it was a normal day would be an understatement. Lord Megatron would not call being stuck the way he was normal. By no means! This was completely ridiculous! All because Starscream wanted to see the Fortune Teller. Why the Pit do I put up with him? Once I get back to normal, I'll - Malicious thoughts gave way, and Megatron was forced to remember exactly why he was in this predicament.

[00]

"Why are we here?" Megatron growled, red optics flashing angrily. Starscream looked over, hands behind his back, and smiled.

"I want to get my fortune told!" he said, and Megatron's vents shot forth a hot blast of air - a mechanical equivalent to a human's snort. The seeker smiled and hurried inside the chamber, transparent purple curtains shifting to a side, and clattered as the small metal beads smashed against each other. Megatron took another look at the sign.

Madame Clairvoyant's

Magiques and Merveilles

charms, potions, talismans

tarot/servo readings

"Art older than Cyberton"

Megatron scoffed. "My aft," he muttered, entering the chamber.

Clairvoyant was a femme who was more than odd. Her frame was slender, and kibble, Megatron had no clue what it came from, adorned her body. Her digits were thin, and ended in sharp claws. Her optics where a strange smokey yellow, and her helm had two strange protrusions, almost horn-like. Over her helm was a black cloth and around her throat was a red cloth that was tied and fell to the ground - two tiny bells attached to the ends. She looked up as the seeker and tyrant entered, and smiled.

"Gentlemen, enchanté," She cast out her arm, "Welcome to my humble corner of the market." Her vocals were laced with a soothing accent. Starscream smiled, finding himself fascinated by all the objects. Megatron pretended to be equally impressed, while out the corner of his optic he examined Madame Clairvoyant. Her coloring, from what he could see in the dim light, was silver and black, dominantly. Her forearms had red armor, and her peds also had the same crimson coloring.

It was the two small articles of clothing that intrigued him. Not many Cybertronians wore clothing, but she had this veil and scarf and wore them with, he hoped that's what it was, pride. Starscream soon pulled away from a small, ornate statuette and walked towards Clairvoyant.

"I'm - " Clairvoyant raised her servo.

"Say nothing," she ordered, before offering her servo. Starscream looked at it before placing his servo in hers. While Clairvoyant traced a single clawed digit across his servo, Starscream's face contorted, not in pain. Maybe disgust? Whatever it was, the femme did not seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't care.

"You're designation is Starscream, second-in-command to the Decepticon leader, Megatron," she spoke quietly, continuing her digit down his servo, up to the tips of his digits. Starscream shuddered from the touch, wanting very much to pull away. When Clairvoyant finally let go, Starscream withdrew his servo, and stared at it, as if to make sure it was still there. Clairvoyant laughed, her shaking frame causing the bells to chime. "I see you are in for a surprise." she whispered. Starscream looked at her. Megatron finally stepped forward.

"This is nonsense!"
"But, Megatron!" Starscream stated, "She knew who I was!"
"Of course! You're not unknown!" the tyrant raged. "She knows who you are! She knows who I am! You're just feeding her your credits for false predictions." Starscream stared at his leader, jaw slacked. He seemed to be looking for a good comeback, but was finding it hard.

The chiming of bells mixed with a low laughter drew the tyrant and his second-in-command's attention back to Clairvoyant.

"You doubt me, Lord Megatron?" she stared at him with those smokey optics. Megatron glared, his own optics narrowing.

"I do. I don't believe in any of this," he pointed an accusing digit at her, "You are a fraud. Just like all the others who practice this art!" Clairvoyant suddenly stood, and it was amazing at how tall the femme was. She nearly towered over Megatron.

"How dare you disrespect me, you pathetic glitch!" She screamed, stalking towards him, claws bared threateningly. "I've helped mechs and femmes with greater desires than your worthless hopes of ruling! I've brought sparks together, and I've extinguished sparks!" She pointed to him, and spoke more calmly. "You are not worth my time, leave."

Megatron gaped, his facade crumbled. "Not worth your time? Who do you think you are? I am Megatron!" Clairvoyant glared.

"You have no soul! You are an empty shell; broken, used. You desire something so trivial as absolute rule and power! Your spark pulses, and fluids run through your cables, but your soul, it's long since left you. You are nothing. You are slag. You. Are. Junk."

That shouldn't have hurt. It was meaningless, coming from this con artist. He had a soul, and it desired power! He should point his fusion canon at her and blast this teller into the next millennium. But he didn't; and it did hurt. He felt his spark sputter and withdrew deeper into it's chamber at every word she spoke. His fluids ran cold, and he felt like he would crash at that moment - but he didn't. He was Lord Megatron, and he would not show weakness to this, this, femme!

So, why couldn't he find his courage? Clairvoyant glared down at him a moment longer before her arm snapped forward. She wrapped her servo around his wrist and drew it closer to her face. Megatron knew why Starscream had flinched as she traced a clawed digit down his palm. The metal on her servos were cold, and the digit seemed to be tracing his soul. She finally spoke.

"You believe you have a soul?" Megatron glared back at her.

"I know I do!" The mech tore his servo from hers. Clairvoyant laughed, and turned, walking over to a table. She appeared to be looking for something, her servo raised in the air. It would dip down, but suddenly retract, as if she thought she found what she was looking for, but realized that wasn't it.

Soon, she came back, a small vial of red liquid in her servo. She shoved it forward. "Drink it," she hissed. She walked back towards the chair she had been resting in, as Megatron looked at the liquid. He tilted the vial, watching as the liquid seemed to slowly follow gravity's law.

"What is this?" he asked, not expecting an answer. He was proven correct as Clairvoyant ignored him. He looked around, and noticed Starscream had left - possibly in fear when Megatron was arguing with the fortune teller. Against better judgment, Megatron carefully tore the lid off the vial and brought it to his lip components. The liquid slowly traveled down the glass into his mouth. Once it made contact with his glossa, Megatron was rewarded with a metallic, bitter taste. He sputtered and coughed, but spitting the liquid out was out of the question. It had forced it's way down his throat, and he could feel it traveling along his inner workings.

"What the Pit was that?" He roared. Clairvoyant was hovering over something, mumbling under her breath. Megatron stepped forward, prepared to beat the femme senseless until she spoke to him, when he felt a twinge of pain in his gut. This was followed by shots of pain in his arms, legs and chest. He drew his servo towards his spark, optics wide. "What - what did you do?"

"If you have a soul, as you claim you do," Clairvoyant was finally speaking to him. She also seemed to be getting taller, "Then you will prove it. You'll spend one deca-cycle like this. I shall send you to Earth to live out this sentence." She smiled, as his warning system went off. The last thing Megatron heard was those damn bells.

[00]

Now, here he was. Squishy. Jet black hair hung in his face, red eyes hidden behind black shades. Clairvoyant had been grateful enough to allow him clothes. Looking down at them - a white shirt under a black jacket, black jeans and steel-toe boots - Megatron realized it would be a long deca-cycle.

"Year," he mumbled to himself, looking up at the clear blue sky which seemed to mock him, endlessly. "She made me a human, so I better start using their terms." It was going to be a long year.