Your only Warning: Lots of triggers and icky stuff. Don't read if you can't handle mature content.

Like most journeys from the warm depths of The Well to the cold universe of things tangible, and inevitably back to the welcoming arms of Primus, this spark's voyage began with emergence. And maybe the rough beginning, the cesarean section, or that particular midwife are to blame for the spark's future hardships. However, the enraged screams of the laboring carrier claimed the sparkling's startling color and hard lined frame were just first of many viable causes for her hatred.

The room was fairly dim, not unlike the gloomy mood felt by the four occupying the heated space. A noble femme cursed and groaned on a medical berth as she screamed through the birthing process. On call, and expertly attending the renowned Lady, a diligent and kind nurse allowed the carrier to crush the circuitry in his left hand while regulating her vitals and priming the birth canal for a sparkling to push through. Next to the berth, the midwife equipped her servos for delivering the first heir of the Household. Across the room, and frowning, a noble mech watched detachedly; the color of the tiles decorating the wall adjacent his howling bonded more interesting than her suffering.

The Lord of the House's indifference wasn't shared by the inquisitive few hovering outside. Servants and loyalists alike who purposefully passed the room to gain knowledge of the emergence all anxiously lined the corridor, audials pressed up against the wall. The Lady was crying out to any who'd hear and her pain drew them like an accident on a Vossian runway. Some listened on in sympathy, others morbid curiosity. Although, when they made out the outright panic in the femme's screams when the midwife demanded pain (and EM) dampeners, and a sterile scalpel, not one could stop their spark from racing. Assisted emergence was rare, and considered a weakness on the carrier's part for being unable to deliver on their own.

Minutes into the operation most had to flee from the volatile EM fluctuations alone.

"Oh, Primus, here we go… here it comes.." the midwife was elbow joints deep in the Lady's gestation tank, and with a well angled pull-, "…and here she- uh- is!"

The sparkling was free of its carrier and hastily rushed over and deposited in a wary sire's servos within seconds, and just as quick all attention was back to the exhausted femme. The nurse ineffectively tried to calm the carrier and keep her components inside her chassis as she fought to get a clear view of the thing that cost her so much pride and dignity.

"Let me see! Give her to me!"

The sire was almost empathetic as the stoic mech held the newly emerged sparkling in the light, so that his bond mate could see. Dripping with energon and other bodily fluids not its own, the new spark cried and flailed healthily, calling out for fuel from its creators. Not kliks born and already the sire knew his creation would be considered an abomination.

His suspicions rang true. As soon as she could pull herself up and lock prideful eyes on her new spark she found it undesirable.

"No!"

He tried, "A mech is not a total loss-"

"It's not a femme!" she raged, struggling against the midwife, who strove to sterilize and seal the split protoform of the carrier's midsection, "It's- It's heinous! Filthy!"

The sire frowned, unconsciously cradling the mechling to his chassis, "I'll not have him terminated."

"Of course not." The noble femme snarled. "You've never cared about me, our House!"

Turning away, the sire shielded the wailing sparkling from the animosity it would endure for just a blissful while. The child's frame was as boxy shaped as the vocalizer that emitted such needy sounds. Undeniably a mech. And red, shockingly so. On any other cybertronian of most other classes such vibrant plating would be acceptable, even sought after. For one of the higher standing mecha it was exceptionable.

Highbrow frowned, evading kicking legs as he checked the sparkling's lower chassis for the severed interconnection cord, feeling about the underside until he came upon what he dreaded.

"Oh, my mechling…"

The child was silent all at once, drawing his sire's attention to a liquid streaked and chubby face. Round optics wide, but unafraid, the sparkling stared right back, as though he could tell what his sire was thinking and that he was sorry for emerging as Primus made him for his creator's sake.

"I'm sorry, Cliffclimber, but it appears you have my long face plates and ridiculous nasal ridge," Highbrow said...

to lighten the mood.