re_alignment_logs | OPENING LOG: Awakening

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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.))

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Drift had been trying to avoid the jet, for the jet's own good, but when it started talking he had no choice.

He kept his distance, hoping it would be enough, and hoping Annie wouldn't go too far.

He has no idea where Kansas was, though. "Or Messatine. It looks worse than Cybertron when I saw it last."

The approach of the other bot, one that looks quite different in body structure, is more than reason enough for Annie to stick close to Drift. In fact, she's hurrying to catch up to him that last little distance. Having at least learned not to rush quite as much, she keeps one hand against the junk in addition to her feet as she climbs.

Reaching Drift, Annie ducks behind his leg. It is sufficient enough cover for the small girl to hide as much as she wants from the approaching jet, yet hearing the jet speak to them creates curiosity in her. Leaning around the side of the leg with her hands against Drift's armor, the girl looks towards the jet with purple, black, and teal coloring.

It sounded like...a woman. Could robots be female?

The bot didn't look to be in the best shape. "Is it catching?" She asked, and the tone probably was rather patronizing. Though making light of suffering seemed preferable to showing fear or disgust here. He was armed, and he had swords, too. She was not looking to get into close-quarters combat with some infected Cyber-ninja, or whatever, especially not with a thruster out.

The little organic seemed sensible, with the three-point stabilization and programming- instinct to hide from large foes. There was something irritating about it, though. "Don't you think it's off-putting when you cower like that?" She asked, "You don't see me squealing, afraid you'll crawl on me with your organic slime!" Though, she was pretty sure little girls didn't really have slime, at least not that could actually harm Cybertronian plating, right?

"You are a girl? From Earth?" Hard to tell with juveniles, they were like protoforms, except completely not; they hadn't quite filled out into their adult moulds, yet.

"Yes." He'd go into more detail but, well, it was gross. At least this jet had put the pieces together.

"Infected the entire facility. Except the medics." Because they were special, he thought. That's what First Aid had said, more or less--that the medics, being forged, had some immunity.

He wasn't forged; not living in the gutters.

Drift frowned, one hand closing over a sword hilt. "She's just scared. There's no need to talk to her like that." He looked...well, horrifying, and Annie was small and fragile looking--scared seemed pretty reasonable a response.

Listening to the bots talk briefly regarding Drift's condition, Annie begins to wonder more about it. The concept of a disease that spreads between them is new to her. There is no reason it would be impossible of course, considering the fact they are huge, living machines. She simply had not thought of it until now.

When the jet turns her attention to the girl, Annie is rather taken aback by the initial words directed at her. Shrinking back almost completely behind Drift's leg, she really does consider just hiding entirely and letting the bots talk.

However, the sight of Drift closing his hand on the hilt of his sword is far more alarming--she doesn't want to be the cause of a fight between them!

Although her knees don't feel very steady, she forces herself to step out to where she becomes visible to the jet even as she keeps a hand solidly against Drift's leg. The contact with him is steadying for her, and would give him information about her location without having to look down to check on her. Answering the jet, she hopes to help calm things even when she can only muster a quiet voice, "...y-yes. I...I am from Earth. A-a city called Gotham."

Slipstream suppressed a prompt to cringe at the description of the outbreak, but her wings did make a brief flutter at her back. "Maybe you should put something on that." Not that she really thought it would help. "Polish, or water?" Something to make it not spread, especially with the whole sword-readiness.

"Doesn't really look like you can protect her forever." And then, Slipstream gave a shrug and looked farther down, to the girl. "Do you really think it smart for her to show weakness here."

For all Slipstream knew, the girl could have super powers, or reverse-engineered gadgets capable of putting up a fight, but she didn't see any evidence of it. Evidence, in general, was lacking around here.

She nodded slightly, very slightly, but it was a kind of acknowledgement. There was a difference between being weak and showing weakness, and shows of weakness were generally got Decepticons demoted. Slipstream didn't need any reminders of what Starscream's failings had earned him. The glitch!

"Is Gotham near Detroit?" Slipstream hadn't heard of it, but every bit of data could potentially inform her of her predicament. She had no working hypothesis beyond the idea that some sort of time travel might be involved, or that not everybot remembered Cybertron the same way.

"It's internal." He really doesn't want to go into that whole 'my insides are liquefying and running out of my optics'--Annie doesn't need to know that. "Polish isn't going to help that."

"I can protect her long enough." And he's definitely getting a vibe that Slipstream is someone to protect her from. He used to be a Decepticon, after all. He remembers the contempt, so he doesn't try to hide the growl in his voice. He's trying to stay away so as not to infect the jet, but if she's inclined to cause problems, well, he'll finish them, one way or the other.

This is about as brave as Annie can manage right now. A small part of her wants to speak up in order to tell the jet that the two of them would be fine. Even should Drift become weak from whatever had infected him, she would do what she could for him in return, as little as it may amount to in the end. However, that flicker of desire is forgotten in favor of keeping the situation from escalating particularly as she hears the growl within Drift's voice.

As far as Annie can figure, if she gives the information the jet wants, she will have no reason to approach either of them and will move on afterwards.

In order to both show her confidence in Drift and to take comfort in being closer, Annie leans over against his leg lightly so that she can press both hands against his armor with her forearms coming flat to the surface. Head turned and looking up at the jet, she answers, "N-not really. Gotham is on the East coast...more to the North."

That the juvenile organic cowered was annoyingly reminiscent of Skywarp, and just insulting, as if Slipstream had nothing better to do but extinguish little lifeforms who weren't even in her way. But, to have the bot get defensive and go all edgy-voice on her was curiously flattering. Someone more on her level saw her as a threat.

Slipstream smirked and switched to her native Cybertronian dialect, Decepticon and Earth-accented as it likely was, "Almost sounds like you want to play. And I don't even have your proper designation." Here, 'play' meant something more like 'spar with live ammo' than 'hit spheroids with a stick'.

Just as quickly, She reverted to American, as it were, "You two together long? They have robots, like us, in Gotham?" Maybe there was more than one 'Earth'.

Unfortunately for Slipstream, Drift isn't stupid. She's a Decepticon, by her insignia and she's sure acting like one. And he's pretty sure there's a high price on his head from the DJD. "My name's not important. And we don't have to 'play' if you leave her alone."

Unlike Slipstream, he's speaking English, because it's rude not to. Annie deserves to hear what's going on.

"Is this really the time to be having this conversation?"

Although confused by the switch between languages made by the strange female bot, Annie is willing to overlook it. Taking cue from Drift however, she stops herself from answering regarding robots in Gotham when he responds to the jet in English to include her into the full conversation. Her gaze turns up to Drift for a brief few seconds before she looks back towards the jet. Slowly, she bows her head forward and takes a couple steps backwards, hands trailing with her as she moves her position to where she could get out of the way faster if needed.

For now, she will keep the information to herself until Drift gives the okay or is able to relax.

Slipstream sighed. What was with treating her like some bad guy! Autobot propaganda most likely! It wasn't like she was trying to conquer worlds, except maybe Cybertron.

"What conversation would you like us to have? Some cheery scrap about the weather and swell sporting matches? There's some anomalous thing in the sky! How 'bout those Tigertrons?" She was ranting, irrationally irritated by their lack of cooperation.

"Aren't Autobots and humans supposed to forget differences and pull together in times of crisis?! So what if I switched languages? It's not like it's a big secret this one wants a fight; maybe I didn't feel like playing tutor-bot!" She was flailing, voice shrill.

"Maybe there's a working hypothesis some time travel happened, or there's more than one planet with the same name! Could it be an intelligent bot might want to - I don't know - compare notes? It's the 22nd Century. Edsel is still Mayor of Detroit. Autobots live among humans there. Pickles the Purple Griffin is the current toy at Burger Bot!"

"One that maybe helped us survive. Names and histories aren't really that important right now. Shelter and food are."

He frowns. "She's fine. She doesn't need a tutor bot," whatever that was, "she probably just wants to get home."

Drift shifts uneasily on his feet at the completely incomprehensible stuff she's saying. Edsel? Pickles? He shakes his head, trying to signal to Annie to be prepared to run.

With the clear irritation of the female bot, Annie cringes visibly as she takes another step back with only one hand remaining against Drift's leg as the other curls to her chest. Though much of what the jet says confuses her further, she does pick out one detail that she finds startling with the surprise obvious on her face. The 22nd century...? Annie had come from the 20th century.

Were robots and others being dumped here from across space and time?

Frankly, the concept is too big for Annie to try to wrap her head around at the moment while so frightened, and it's pushed aside in favor of the immediate possibility of a fight. With Drift shifting uneasily, she tenses further while feeling it under her hand. She is certainly ready to run to get out of the way if she needs to do so, but she hopes very much it will not come to that.

This bot was just not going to see things her way! Names and histories might help them discover some pattern to their arrival here that would help them get back.

"Can we all just be logical here for one klik- a couple minutes?" Slipstream asked, still with a bitter edge to her voice. "Granted food, fuel, and rest are necessary, but for any of us to get home, don't you think we need to find out how we got here and where here is?"

Her vocalizer was still stressed with irritation, but Slipstream's posture became much less guarded. It wasn't like she shut down even the most minor sensor, but she also didn't have anyone in target lock.

Slipstream was about done with this lead. Better to move on to another than to try the same thing over and over expecting a different result. That would just be glitched!

Really, Slipstream. Asking for information while sounding hostile and condescending? Yep. Decepticon.

"I think we need to take care of survival first, and where this is, before we try to think of ways to get home."

There's no point planning orbital bounces or quantum jumps if you starve to death or get killed by wild sharkticons. He looked down at her injured thruster. "I'd think you'd have that priority, too."

But she had raised a good question. "Annie? Do you have mechs in your Earth?"

The relaxation of Slipstream's posture is noticeable and quickly picked up on by the runt next to Drift as closely as she has been watching it, but only gradually does she start to let some of her own tension fade. She still wants to be ready to run at any moment, yet keeping her fearful posture rigid could incite more frustration in the female bot.

It is only when Drift asks her a question directly does she move again, tilting her head back to look all the way up to him. Shaking her head with her dark hair lifting briefly in the motion, she speaks up to answer, "...No. A-at least, I don't know of any."

Not mechs perhaps, but Gotham has monsters.

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OPENING LOG: Awakening

you realize you are the first female robot he's seen?

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gender issues, yay! ;P

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