Re/Aligned Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
re_alignedmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2012-06-21 04:54 pm
re_alignedmods) wrote in re_alignment_logs2012-06-21 04:54 pm
Entry tags:
- !npc | alpha trion,
- !npc | liege maximo,
- !npc | megatronus prime,
- !npc | nexus prime,
- !npc | prima,
- !npc | solus prime,
- !npc | vector prime,
- !open,
- brave police: j-decker | deckard,
- brave police: j-decker | gunmax,
- brave police: j-decker | mccrane,
- kingdom hearts | ventus,
- tf: animated | blurr,
- tf: animated | sari,
- tf: classics | elita one,
- tf: dreamwave | jetfire (crau),
- tf: dreamwave | starscream (crau),
- tf: idw | drift,
- tf: idw | wing,
- tf: prime | breakdown,
- tf: prime | knock out,
- tf: prime | ratchet,
- ✘ 9 | 4,
- ✘ batman: 90s animated | annie,
- ✘ kingdom hearts | luxord,
- ✘ legend of korra | korra,
- ✘ megamind | megamind,
- ✘ real steel | noisy boy,
- ✘ star wars | darth malgus,
- ✘ tf: animated | blackarachnia,
- ✘ tf: animated | optimus prime,
- ✘ tf: animated | prowl,
- ✘ tf: animated | slipstream,
- ✘ tf: animated | starscream,
- ✘ tf: animated | swindle,
- ✘ tf: bayverse | shockwave/driller,
- ✘ tf: beast wars | dinobot,
- ✘ tf: idw | optimus prime (crau),
- ✘ tf: idw | pharma,
- ✘ tf: prime | raf esquivel,
- ✘ tf: prime | starscream,
- ✘ tf: prime | wheeljack,
- ✘ yu-gi-oh! zexal | v
OPENING LOG: Awakening
WHO: Everybody!
WHERE: The Junk Pile.
WHEN: Right here, right now.
WHAT: Game opening! Our Heroes find themselves in a strange place not of their own world, however familiar (or not) it may be.
Consciousness is slow, and a struggle to obtain. The moments before darkness are hazy enough; a great vertigo, a twisting, and then, falling. Falling for what seemed like forever. And when you are finally aware of your surroundings, it is most decidedly not where you came from.
Instead, you are now in what appears to be a wasteland. A wasteland...of junk. Debris as far as you can see, heaped in mini-mountains that offer only so good of a view of the world around you. Perhaps in the distance, you can make out some flatter land, perhaps you can just make out what looks like a crevice - but it's difficult at best. The light here is all wrong, the two greatest sources being a white line in the alien sky that doesn't so much give off light as simply have it - and something in the south that glows like a setting sun.
You may or may not notice it at first, but you, too, have something alien - something on your arm, more likely than not. A marking that glows softly, but offers no clue as to how it got there - no pain, no sensitivity. It's simply there, as you are here.
So.
Now what?
((OOC: This is it, you guys! Have a blast! Please remember to keep everything under the first thread for now; we'll be adding the Firstforged in in a little bit...
OKAY There is now a second thread to post in! Feel free to make new threads there to react to the arrival of the Firstforged, or respond directly to the Firstforged themselves.))
WHERE: The Junk Pile.
WHEN: Right here, right now.
WHAT: Game opening! Our Heroes find themselves in a strange place not of their own world, however familiar (or not) it may be.
Consciousness is slow, and a struggle to obtain. The moments before darkness are hazy enough; a great vertigo, a twisting, and then, falling. Falling for what seemed like forever. And when you are finally aware of your surroundings, it is most decidedly not where you came from.
Instead, you are now in what appears to be a wasteland. A wasteland...of junk. Debris as far as you can see, heaped in mini-mountains that offer only so good of a view of the world around you. Perhaps in the distance, you can make out some flatter land, perhaps you can just make out what looks like a crevice - but it's difficult at best. The light here is all wrong, the two greatest sources being a white line in the alien sky that doesn't so much give off light as simply have it - and something in the south that glows like a setting sun.
You may or may not notice it at first, but you, too, have something alien - something on your arm, more likely than not. A marking that glows softly, but offers no clue as to how it got there - no pain, no sensitivity. It's simply there, as you are here.
So.
Now what?
((OOC: This is it, you guys! Have a blast! Please remember to keep everything under the first thread for now; we'll be adding the Firstforged in in a little bit...
OKAY There is now a second thread to post in! Feel free to make new threads there to react to the arrival of the Firstforged, or respond directly to the Firstforged themselves.))
other people read it the same way, so i think it was my bad - though i think it's funnier this way!
Contagious - that meant disease. He hadn't seen them very often, only in Refugees, but he understood that they could be quite serious.
//Your location?//
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Which is probably not helpful.
//....there's a big pile of metal on the right, about a mechanometer away to the east. BIG.//
It's the only landmark he can think of.
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//Killing you or not, contagious or not - you require help. And you may have found it.//
Surely - perhaps not he himself, but perhaps one of his brothers could help. Or if not, one of the others who have arrived?
He's not about to simply call this a lost cause. Not when there's a chance they could be saved.
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And Drift's relationship with the word 'help' is like Ultra Magnus's with 'fun'.
//You just need to keep everyone away. Please.//
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He can also continue to approach at the same time. It is - difficult, to place him, ,and yet.
//But I must locate you first. Look up, and tell me if you can see a flying figure.//
They'd do this the hard way, but at least Vector was relatively certain he could use that, and Drift's earlier note to pinpoint his location.
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If he had a gun....
He gave a wry smile. It had been a long time since he'd wished for a gun. But still. If he had one, he could use it as a signal flare.
He looked around. Surely there had to be something.
...of course there was.
He pulled the Great Sword from between his shoulders, hands closing around the heavy hilt. Blue light rippled down the blade, cast from the hilt in the sword.
//Maybe this helps.//
no subject
//It does.//
A shift in angle, engines humming as they powered up - he crossed the distance quickly enough, not so much landing as lowering as he transformed, wary even as he was confident that no simple disease could slow him down.
But this...took him aback, more than a little. It looked as though the mech was melting, decaying in to nothing...
"What manner of disease is this...?" he asked, appalled.
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Especially when you looked as bad as Drift did. He'd left a lot of his past behind, but he'd never quite gotten over the dislike of being weak. Or looking it.
"Red Rust. It's a plague. I got it trying to rescue a medical facility."
....yeah.
"Rescue wasn't going as planned."
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Optic lubrication should not be that color.
The Prime considers the white mech, taking a single step closer as he lowers himself to get a better look. He can't- tell much of it, but if he could get a better idea, he may be able to help...
"What...does it do?"
Could Nexus do something, he wonders? Solus? No, this seems something more for Alchemist, but he's away...
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Though, come to think of it, there's actually a pretty embarrassing story about that, too. But he can spin it to the positive. The Knights of Cybertron. Cyberutopia.
Just give him an opening....!
"Liquefies your insides. And you leak. A lot."
He was presuming that the fact it also smelled awful was self-evident.
"Only the medics were safe. Immune or something. But they didn't seem to have symptoms."
no subject
Well.
He supposes he can attempt some help, at least for a time. He's rather uncertain he can reverse it, but...
Holding up a hand, Vector warns, "Be still." A moment later, there's an odd wavering about it; almost like the shimmering of a heat mirage. And if the mech he's so focused on obeys...
There'll be a shimmering about him, as well.
no subject
Still, there was Something going on here.
He watched the strange shimmer, and felt it seem to fuzz over his own frame. It felt weird. He waited for it to hurt or something, but it didn't.
"W-what are you?"
no subject
Careful, careful...there. He lowered his hand, optics flickering for a moment but soon returning to full brightness as he drew himself up with great dignity.
"I," he said, "am one of the Firstforged of Primus."
No reason to veil the truth - and every reason to see if there was any recognition from this Refugee.
"My name is Vector Prime," he continued, "and though I can not heal you of your ailment, I think it under control now, so that a cure may be found without you falling prey."
no subject
"...what?"
Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. You know, sudden appearance, mysterious place, and now this glowing mystical juju.
He guessed he just expected, you know, Cyberutopia to look a bit less like Gorlam Prime after Thunderwing's last visit.
So the tone wasn't 'I don't believe you' as much as 'you're real?'. He'd never come across a Vector Prime, but he'd definitely read of Primus.
"I...uh...thank you. I'm Drift. But...you probably already knew that." You know, big omniscient descendant of a god and all.
no subject
Vector tilted his helm, giving the mech a moment to process the information. He seemed to take it well enough, though he seemed (understandably, perhaps) startled by it. And...perhaps a bit assuming?
"I did not. Names, I must admit, are not something of which I hold power over." Time and space, on the other hand...
no subject
"Drift. I'm Drift." Sorry, Vector: they didn't have etiquette classes in the gutters so you get 'blunt but well-meaning'.
"What is this place?" Because, he's sorry, but he sort of expected something a bit swankier. "Why am I here and where's everyone else?"
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After all. If that disease was going to kill him...here, he at least has time to find its cure.
"You are on Cybertron - a far younger one than you may or may not be familiar with. 'Everyone else' is scattered amongst this area, searching for answers, I presume."
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He sounds kind of disappointed. You know, godlike creature shows up, you kind of want to feel special. Chosen. Like you were picked out of all your peers for something daring and important. Something good.
"Cybertron?" He shakes his head. "But it's...junk."
no subject
More than you think.
"The Lambda," Vector answers the 'how' - even if the 'junk' comment has him arching his brow, uncertain whether to be offended or amused.
He decides on matter-of-fact.
"This is not all of it. You stand upon a small portion of it - do you expect to see a whole world from here?"
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It has been a day of ups and downs. Showing up here, still being sick, running into Wing, Wing abandoning him, running into the descendant of Primus...finding out you're here because some spacetime anomaly barfed you up like some transdimensional hairball.
Drift's optimism is getting a hell of a workout.
But, that whole 'that which does not kill us makes us stronger', right?
"But you. I mean, why are you here? Not, like, here-here in the sort of metaphysical sense," although that was a hell of a question, but his brain module was already burstingly full, "but,..here. In the junk."
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Now...that is a curious question. He's here because Primus tasked him here, but he's not certain if that's what Drift is asking. He considers him for a few moments before speaking with a tilted head.
"Because of you."
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He needs a moment.
"Me?" Drift laughs, shaking his head. "I don't think so. If I'm here, it's an accident. Nothing more."
A pretty cool accident, but he's not really special or heroic or anything. He's just trying to fix his mistakes.
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That can't be too hard. Can it?
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All Drift does is kill people. And write some pretty impressive speeches.
"Pharma's here. He was at Delphi when I was. He has to be able to help."
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It's spoken almost as a challenge, with Vector giving Drift a look...before he eases it up, nodding slowly.
"Pharma, then. He will have to be found."
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