OPENING LOG: Awakening

[re_alignedmods]

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.))

Comments

[docbot]

When Ratchet comes to, it's slow, as if his processor is trying its hardest to keep him from the terrible revelation that consciousness will inevitably reveal.

Of course, after the first few muzzy seconds, he realizes that he's not lying comfortably in his berth, and that he's tangled up with ... something.

His optics blink on.

Make that someone. Someone who is a suspiciously familiar shade of deep magenta.

"AUALKSJDF!"

Random static bursts from his vocalizer as he tries to pull away to get a better look, and utterly fails. His chevron is stuck in this hopefully-a-stranger's waist, and he can't quite twist his head enough to get it out. Desperately, he reaches up and starts blindly patting at whatever he can reach, trying to figure out how he's stuck. It is not the best of strategies, but then, he's not exactly at the top of his game at the moment.

[automobile_enthusiast]

It's the haptic input that pulls Knock Out out of his uneasy recharge. He comes awake slowly, his processes booting up in an irregular cascade. At first there's only unfiltered sensation. The pressure sensors under his armor are detecting an uncomfortable pulling at the ventral plating of his waist, and hands roaming over other parts of his scratched-up body. His EM field registers another Cybertronian life signal, very close to him. His nociceptors report pain-pain-pain from more than a few spots on his body, but that's no surprise, and his audials pick up a lot of staticy noise. His dorsal tactile net is coming back with--

Wait.

Wait.

Perception's coming online now, and cognition behind it, assimilating all those disparate physical sensations into one very unwelcome picture: there's someone touching him. Poking, prying, it doesn't matter. He's not happy about it.

He jerks upright with a grunt, crying out an instant later as the movement wrenches the sharp points digging into his midsection. From his superior vantage, it takes him only an instant to recognize the bulky red and white mech sprawled out in front of him. "Scrap."

He tries to scrabble away but only ends up digging himself into the loose substrate he's sitting on. No good.

"Scrap! Get off of me!" Yelling will help, right?

[docbot]

Wellp, there's only one person that voice could belong to. Scrap it all, Ratchet is going to punch something when he figures out what's going on.

"If I could, don't you think I would b-?! Primus, you fragging idiot! No!"

He shouts, somewhat muffled by Knock Out's plating, then falters when Knock Out scrabbles back, because the movement destabilizes Ratchet's balance. The mech tips over involuntarily, hissing in pain at the wrench in his chevron, and grabbing on to whatever he can to try and steady himself again.

Unfortunately, said motion ends up tangling his fingers in something else.

"Fraggit."

[automobile_enthusiast]

Nope, yelling did not help, not that he'd particularly expected it to. His engine turns over in his chassis, the roar of it preceded by a bit of a stutter. Scrap.

At least he stops trying to squirm away? He freezes, looking around wildly, but there's nothing to see but junk. That's okay with him, it means he can focus on the Autobot. It's not even hard to figure out that the chevron points jammed up under his plating are the primary author of their misfortune.

He wraps his long talons around Ratchet's head and tries to shove it away. "Get off get off get off--!"

[docbot]

"Ow ow ow- stop that."

Ratchet grits his teeth initially when Knock Out starts yanking at his head, but after a few tries, all he's registering is pain.

He reaches up to bat Knock Out's talons away, growling, "Aren't you supposed to be a medic? All that's going to do is tear my chevron off!"

[automobile_enthusiast]

"If that's what it takes to detach you--" Knock Out didn't bother to finish the thought; his voice was a rough growl, far from the usual slick composure of his speech.

His efforts to dislodge the other mech weren't working, though. He couldn't properly brace himself against the loose and shifting surface of the junk, couldn't get the leverage he needed to pry the sharp planes of the chevron loose. "Slaggit all," he swore, his claws peeling up trails of paint as he raked them helplessly across Ratchet's helm. "How can you be this stuck?!"

[docbot]

Ratchet yelped as he felt Knock Out digging into his helm and banged a fist against the other mech's thigh in protest.

"I don't know! Why does your plating have to be so tight?"

He growled disgustedly and tried to toss his head to no avail. In fact, the only thing his movement did was shift the junk enough that one key supporting factor fell out ... causing a localized avalanche of trash, and sending the pair of them tumbling downhill.

If asked later, Ratchet will fully admit that he screamed like a juvenille.

[automobile_enthusiast]

If asked later, Knock Out will fully refuse to admit that he also screamed like a juvenile. That cacophony of noise that accompanied the two of them as the tide of junk tumbled them down the hill? That was all Autobot. Seriously.

It took his gyros a minute to recalibrate once they'd slid to a halt at the bottom of a trough between two heaps of rubbish. He was laying on his side, half-buried in junk, more trash scattered above and around the both of them.

He shoved at Ratchet's head again, then hissed through his intakes as it sent a twist of pain through his perceptive nets. Somehow, their little jaunt on the way down had only wedged them further together.

"I think your chevron's trying to breach my thoracic cavity, doctor," he hissed. "Not exactly an orthodox surgical technique, hn?"

[docbot]

Ratchet would note that Knock Out screamed even louder than he did. His vocalizer doesn't go nearly that high in pitch... but at the moment, he's stunned by the fall and the ensuing impact. The throbbing in his chevron that is slowly spreading into his cranium is not helping either.

"Urgh." He sighs and attempts to bring his hand to the side of his head to rub at the connection of chevron to helm. It won't soothe much, but maybe the extra stimulus will distract his sensory nets a bit. "If this were a common surgical technique, I would have quit medical training and become a pterorabbit breeder vorns and vorns ago."

[automobile_enthusiast]

Knock Out laughs, the sound almost a cackle and a surprise even to him. "In which case you and I wouldn't be stuck like this, which frankly would be all right by me."

He shrugs one arm free of the loose trash on top of him and plants his palm on top of Ratchet's head, giving the mightiest shove he can muster in an attempt to dislodge him.

No luck. Not even a wiggle. "Glitching pitspawn!"

[docbot]

It's because he's been living so long with Miko's influence that Ratchet's response is "I KNOW YOU ARE, BUT WHAT AM I?" instead of something vaguely witty. Obviously.

He braces himself on his hands and knees and tries bracing himself in an attempt to help Knock Out's efforts. It's not working too well... but it does create quite the situation for the familiar bot approaching to stumble on.

SOME TIME LATER

[wheeljackofalltrades]

Wheeljack still was scouting the area, finding nothing of any interest. Couldn't the Cons/whoever kidnapped him have placed him somewhere a little more interesting? It was merely just junk as far as the eye could see.

Junk...junk...two bots tangled up, jun-

Wait.

He knew those two bots. A few more paces over, and...

A chuckle emits from the Wrecker's voice box. Oh man...

"Need of some help, Docs?"

[deusexraf]

"...is that Knock Out?"

And Ratchet. And...

And somehow, Raf thought he was a little too young to be watching this. He took off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater-vest, rationalizing that maybe they were just magnetized or something, like Arcee and Bulkhead had been...

[docbot]

For the love of Primus. Ratchet stiffens immediately when he recognizes the new voices even with his face still stuck in Knock Out's... lower torso. He groans softly, because with his aft waving in the air and his face stuck where it is, he knows exactly what this looks like.

But after a moment's silence, in deference to his sense of pride, his logic processing kicks in and he grudgingly admits, "Yes, Wheeljack, help would be appreciated. And yes, Raf, I would assume that this is indeed Knock Out."

[automobile_enthusiast]

Knock Out really, really can't think of anything he wants less than another Autobot showing up right now-- except, perhaps, an Autobot and a tagalong. Bad enough to be seen like this by the enemy, but being caught in this state in front of the kid is mortifying.

"What, you really couldn't tell by the dulcet tones of my voice?" he growled, following it with an incongruous-- and nervous-- laugh. But the sarcastic, snapping edge is back immediately as he continues, "No, we want you to leave us like this. Really. It's a blast."

[wheeljackofalltrades]

You know what, Knock Out? He might just take you up on that offer. Not that he didn't care for Ratchet's wellbeing, but of the two of you, you're going to be the one who'd crack first. And that's something he'd give his grenade for. He looked at Raf, giving a sly smirk before turning back to the two bots.

"Really interestin' definition of bedside manner ya got goin' here, you two. A shame to interrupt such a charmin' display."

However, because he's not A JERK yes he is, he walks over towards the two, grabbing one by the leg and one by the waist (probably Knock Out's waist. He's the skinnier one.), he starts to pull. WHAT A BETTER WAY TO SEPARATE?

[deusexraf]

Definitely Knock Out. And Ratchet. Raf has just barely put his classes back on before Wheeljack's smirking and he's trying to figure out why he looks so amused - didn't they come in on a bad time? - and then he's grabbing on as Wheeljack moves forwards and-

He'll need to hold on tighter if you're doing something like that, won't he. Raf does, holding on to Wheeljack's shoulder with everything he's got as he notes that the two medics were just stuck together.

Nothing wrong with that.

[docbot]

Ratchet was expecting maybe an extra set of hands probing around his chevron to try to untangle it. Maybe some help flipping themselves into a position that wasn't quite so overly terrible.

He was not expecting to have his leg almost pulled off.

"Fraggit, Wheeljack, you're gonna tear my leg off!" He kicks out, attempting to pull his leg free from the other mech's grip, bitching all the while, "If that happens, I'm gonna limp after you and beat you to death with it."

His chevron is going to be so bent after this. It breaks his heart in the tiny part of him that still worries about vanity.

[automobile_enthusiast]

Knock Out actually flinches when Wheeljack grabs him, and he's too damn stressed out to even try to bluster past it. He does groan when the Autobot starts pulling him apart though, snapping, "Careful! You're going to leave dents!"

Not that he isn't already dented and scratched all the way to the Pit and back, but that doesn't mean he welcomes new ones.

He doesn't fight otherwise, though, focusing instead on kicking at Ratchet's hips and legs, trying to catch an armor plate or a seam and add some extra impetus to their separation. The sooner they're apart, the better.

[wheeljackofalltrades]

Wheeljack could feel the grip on his shoulder. "Good idea, champ, keep hold of that," he advised, really putting his metal muscle into it now. The two were tangled well and good, and he almost wondered if all those metal do-dads on the two were really necessary. They just got in the way, really. A slight shift in position, now, as he set Knock Out down on the junk heap, pressing him into it as he moved his hand up to Ratchet's lower abdomen, exerting for there at full potential.

Slowly but surely they were coming apart, but he can't help but make a little remark.

"No worries Docs, you'll be free in no time. Just not in front of the kid next time, okay?"

[deusexraf]

"Or you could let me down first?" Raf suggested, shifting his grip some so the metal isn't digging so hard in to his palm. He really doesn't think Wheeljack will take him up on that, so he just- well.

Keeps hanging on.

And pointedly gives Ratchet the benefit of the doubt. They're robots. How would that-no, he's not going to wonder how that'd even work.

[docbot]

Ratchet snarls when Knock Out's heel clangs against his back, and stops yelling because obviously that's going to have no effect on anything keeps shouting loudly even as he tries to ignore the pressure Wheeljack is exerting on his torso.

"If you are actually implying that I would willingly do that sort of thing with a Decepticon, you've got another thing coming, Wheeljack. And that thing is my fist. Coming. To. Your. Face!"

The last word comes out particularly stressed -- Wheeljack's efforts are pulling the two apart, and Ratchet's chevron just buckled under the pressure. It feels like his head is splitting in two.

[automobile_enthusiast]

"I should be insulted," Knock Out grumbles, forcing the words through clenched dentals. "My charms are-- hn!-- irresistible."

His hands scrabble through the junk until he manages to find something big enough to anchor him when he grabs it. He hangs on tight, leaving off the kicking in favor of trying to brace himself. Sure, he might be cooperating with Autobots, but that was far better than being stuck to Autobots.

[wheeljackofalltrades]

Sorry kid. His hands were tied right now, but if you find a slide or something, go for it. He's not going to stop you. Ratchet'll get pretty upset, though. He could feel the metal starting to unhinge, and with a CLANK! both bots are removed from each other.

His apologies, Ratchet, you might go flying a few feet. It's unintentional. Really. The Wrecker gave a slight smirk, still keeping his grip on the Decepticon Medic, looking over his fine method and end result.

"Irresistible, huh?"

His brow perked up. Someone wasn't impressed.

[deusexraf]

oh god there really is such a thing as robot sex, isn't there.

Raf tries to blank this thought from his mind and focus on hanging on, hoping desperately he's just jumping to conclusions and that they're talking about something completely difference. He is entirely too young for this - whether or not a couple of the kids in school are trying to flaunt it, they're all too young thank you - and follows Ratchet with his eyes as he goes flying.

You know what? Ratchet seems a little safer than Wheeljack right now, especially with Wheeljack looking as though he may be about to get in to a fight with Knock Out. Taking advantage of his experience in climbing Autobots, Raf makes his way down Wheeljack's armor, landing hard on the ground but not hard enough that he can't start running towards Ratchet to make sure he's okay.