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

Yup!

[organ_pharming]

A shadow fell over the jet medic, obscuring his blurry view of the sky. A very big...horned shadow.

"How very cryptic," he murmured, wondering if this mech was going to try and lead him to some sort of afterlife. Or maybe he was already there.

Someone else was approaching. The shuffle of weary feet on metal heralded the arrival of a second stranger.

No, not a stranger. A nightmare.

"You!" Pharma rasped. Drift had followed him here somehow- probably to finish what he'd started on the roof of the clinic. This couldn't be happening.

[maxicpolarity]

Today, somehow, was his day for being gifted with plagued mechs.

Granted, the one that was arriving didn't bear his mark, but that didn't stop Liege from being extremely unimpressed with the coincidence. He wasn't a medic. He could, in some ways, function as a medic, but only insofar as someone who'd completely taken a thing apart was able to put it back together in the correct order. Most of the time, it didn't solve the problems that were inherent in the thing to begin with.

He couldn't help but grin up at the one with the swords. If these two were about ready to die, he'd certainly have fun doing the autopsies.

"Ah...don't do anything stupid, such as drawing a weapon on an unfamiliar mech when your optics appear to be leaking out of their sockets?"

Unafraid of contagions, he reached out to pin the suddenly-more-active Pharma down, just in case, keeping his focus on Drift in case he did see fit to attack.

"Neither of you seem to be in much shape for any strenuous activity." He glanced back down to Pharma, and looked back and forth between them. "Care to enlighten me as to why you're both dying on my Cybertron?"

[sword_redemption]

Primus, everyone's a critic.

"I've done worse."

...right. Don't think about that too hard. He should know to leave the combat ad libs to Rodimus.

"Pharma." His optics flick to the medic who was missing...his...hands? "What the frag happened?"

And back to the stranger pinning him. "I wouldn't underestimate me. Just a bit of advice, stranger." He doesn't attack, but he is watching those hands very closely. And trying to find out what happened to Pharma's.

"'Your' Cybertron?" Cybertron? Is that where they were? "Seems you took worse care of it than we did. Maybe you should be the one explaining."

[organ_pharming]

Pharma frowned at the hand that was weighing heavily on him, not quite understanding the point of the endeavor. Drift was the one who was liable to kill him, not the other way around. Seriously- what was he going to do with no hands and red rust turning his insides to liquid?

Even stranger was the fact that, while Drift appeared to recognize him, he seemed confused about his current state of disrepair. A trick?

"You know what happened. You were there," he said with a grimace. His gaze returning to Liege he added, "Primus complex, eh? I know a very professional therapist I'd be happy to write you a referral for."

[maxicpolarity]

Look, its a protective hand, Pharma. You belong to him. Drift doesn't. And Drift is pulling swords.

He doesn't trust either of you to have any sense right now, because you're both trying desperately to die.

In fact, he growls.

"Very well," he says, addressing Drift first. "I shall 'estimate' that you could probably make an effective attack, but would expire before the end of the day regardless due to the severity of your wounds."

His growl then turns to Pharma with a flash of white dentals. "As for insulting my creator, I find it isn't very healthy when I could so easily crush you long before your..." He considered the relationship between the two, and very, very carefully put a stress on the following word: "friend could assist."

Something interesting was going on here.

He could feel it.

But whatever interest that was would have to wait.

"Blame the Lambda for the garbage." Or continue blaming him. Maybe Vector won't notice if you die before he collects you. "It is more accurate, and is certainly nicer than blaming the mech who would prefer that you both did not rust into oblivion. Don't either of you know what manner of disease you have?"

[sword_redemption]

Drift shakes his head, stopping when the movement scatters red droplets. "The last I remember was....Fortress Maximus. You were attacked by those Decepticons, the monoformers. But they hadn't done...that." Seriously? Who cut off hands? Sounds like something Overlord would do.

Or the DJD.

Okay, maybe this place wasn't so bad.

He shrugs at the stranger. "Doesn't matter if I die, if you die first for trying to hurt an unarmed mech. A healer." Okay 'unarmed'? That was totally just a figure of speech. It was not a reference to the hands thing.

"We destroyed Cybertron. We deserve to be blamed. How do you not? Aren't you supposed to be better?" Because this mech looked like Vector. Not exactly, but there was something that seemed to connect them in Drift's mind.

He won't answer the last question, because all he knows is 'it's horrible' and 'everything is leaking everywhere'. Probably not the stuff of medical reports.

[organ_pharming]

Something about the way Leige snaps at him reminds him of the DJD leader. Someone used to being in charge and definitely not accustomed to being argued with. He looks away and remains quiet in the interest of self-preservation.

It nearly makes him choke though, to hear that Drift is...trying to protect him? It takes all his strength not to laugh out loud. Had the plague already melted his processor? Regardless, it seemed that luck was finally on his side. If this bigger mech didn't make good on his threat to squash him, that is.

"I believe I can help with that," he replied in answer to Liege's question about the disease. Time to see how much Drift really remembered. "It has no scientific name, as it appears to be a newly discovered disease. Members of my clinic have nicknamed it the 'Red Rust' for obvious reasons. The plague rapidly breaks down Cybertronian cells, eventually turning everything to liquid."

[maxicpolarity]

He didn't understand.

He truly didn't.

Wasn't there supposed to be something 'rewarding' about assisting others? Hadn't Primus told him that, more than once? Wasn't it supposed to at least involve some sort of gratitude, as opposed to being threatened and being snarked at?

No?

Well, teach him to try being nice, especially when it was much more fun to not be.

He smirked.

Then, his fingers closed around Pharma, lifting him, red rust dripping. Liege wasn't the largest of his brethren and Pharma wasn't the smallest of jets, so it could have been a bit less awkward to take him up in Liege's arms and rush at Drift, but it was still manageable.

If this swordsman insisted on accusing him of ruining Cybertron, then he was going to show him he was wrong.

It wasn't particularly easy.

He wasn't the best at this.

But he did manage to scoop up both plague victims in one sweep. He also managed to Space Bridge in a flying leap off of the garbage pile, which he felt deserved style points even if it did have him landing hard onto the mountain top on the other side.

His mountaintop.

Where it was freezing.

Where it was beautiful, and looked over the long, primordial valleys of his realm.

With Drift still in his arms, he might have given him a little shake, and leaned down to whisper, "Does this look destroyed to you?"

"No?"

Pharma, on the other hand, did not get a shake, since he was being actually cooperative. "So you are a medic." That was useful. "Do you believe you could develop a cure, if I get my brother to slow down your disease?"

/crawls from under wall of text

[sword_redemption]

Drift doesn't have anything to add to Pharma's description of the red rust, other than, you know, it was really uncomfortable.

"But there had to be some immunity." None of the medics had gotten it. But here was Pharma and...wait. Something wasn't right here. "The 3M mechs...they---!!"

Oof. There went that thought, and with it, a gout of rust from Drift's mouth as the stranger lunged toward him, scooping him up. And then...

....it was really cold.

And Drift was really having a bad day. The way he was being held, his swords are pressed against him. Still, he thrashed, or, well, really more like a squirm, like a kitten does. In any rate, he earned that shake.

"No, but..." But what, Drift? "But when is this? Where is this?"

PARAGRAPH BREAK AVALANCHE

[organ_pharming]

Well, that was disorienting. But well timed. Whatever epiphany about the triple M mechs Drift had been about to have had been interrupted. If he truly did not remember cutting off Pharma's hands... then it seemed likely he also did not know who had engineered the plague. Another strange second chance he had been afforded.

"Of course I am," Pharma said, sounding a bit affronted. "I would need a laboratory. But I believe I might be able to manage it."

Ha. Considering he already had. Frag Ratchet for making him lose it in the first place!

"But what do you mean by 'slow down the disease'? We don't have time to administer the kind of treatments that would buy us even an hour."

[maxicpolarity]

This marked a new occasion for him. He'd never, before now, introduced himself to Refugees while holding them, one in each arm, on top of a mountain, while they slowly rusted to death.

He wasn't sure he cared to repeat the experience.

However, the swordsman's change in topic was welcoming enough that he felt he'd been effective in unsettling the pair, and...well. It had been fun.

Even if he'd need a long shower in his heated washracks later.

"This is the beginning of Cybertron, and you are here to witness its construction," he said, his voice vanishing into the vastness of the thin mountain air. "I am Liege Maximo, one of Primus's Firstforged, and, if the two of you will cooperate, I can and will prevent your demise."

This felt sufficiently lordly for him. Perhaps helping people could pay off.

The swordsmech still got an extra shake, however, simply because.

"I can provide you with a laboratory, and with time. Vector has control over that dominion, and I believe he might be willing to assist." He would assist, because one of this pair belonged to him. The unruly one, even. "I cannot provide you with hands, however. I am afraid we're fresh out."

....I keep typing 'lambda' as 'lambada'.

[sword_redemption]

Liege can also imagine it's a novel experience for Drift, at least by the way the mech is wriggling, trying to get free. He probably looks like a slightly sullen cat at the moment.

A cat who just happens to be leaking his innards from his optics.

"This isn't our Cybertron. We don't have that thing," he would point, but, you know, you're seriously impinging his freedom of movement at the moment, but he means the Lambda, "for one thing."

Whoa, dude. Dude. Whoa. What's with all the shaking? All Drift's done is draw a sword on you and....yeah okay. Fair enough. He'll try to ratchet up the cooperation.

"Vector can help. He stopped mine." Before the whole 'lordly speechifying', even. Just saying.

DANCE CONTEST

[organ_pharming]

That was a lot to take in all at once. Pharma hung there, trying not to notice the long string of fluid crawling its way down his jaw. How embarrassing.

The most important thing right now was that, delusional or not, this mech claimed he could help. Pharma just had to hope the offered lab was not a fantasy.

He still wasn't willing to swallow this whole 'time dominion' thing though.

"Stopped it? How is that possible? Are you both implying that this Vector used some kind magic?"

[maxicpolarity]

"No, it isn't your Cybertron," he agreed with Drift, beginning his descent down the mountain to the entrance in his tower. Far off, Prima's light provided the only warmth except for the two beings he held against him...which he was only tolerating for that reason. They were warm. He ran cold.

Rust, at least, could wash off, and he had no fear of contracting disease.

"Which is why I have no part in its demise." Rather, they were trying to build here, which might become apparent as Liege leaped off of one outcropping and landed, heavily, on a balcony below. Part of this mountain was a fortress. His fortress. That he had made.

"Welcome to my haven," he murmured, and brought both of them inside.

"I will contact Vector and have him come here to halt your disease, medic. In the meantime, the both of you are free to use one of my labs." Between the one's knowledge and the other's...ah...appendages, he was certain they could take care of the problem by themselves. "And no, it isn't magic. It is how he was built, by Primus." Duh. For now, he strode through the hallways, confidently, and tried not to growl at the rust they leaked.

"You have my name," He said, instead, still not setting either of them down despite any struggling. "What are yours?"

Drift will start this dance contest with *jazzhands*. /troll

[sword_redemption]

You get used to the leaking, Pharma. Just let go of your dignity.

Drift leaned around Liege's chassis--oh, sorry about that drip on your wrist! "It just seems like magic to us because we're so hung up on science, and what we can see. But the Knights of Cybertron could do lots of things that would be unimaginable to us."

He fell silent, craning his head to look around at everything, wriggling back up as he slipped down from Liege's jump. "And that means you were made with powers, too, right?"

Uh-oh, Liege, you may have activated his fanboy side. "Drift. I'm Drift."

RUDE

[organ_pharming]

Being carried was actually proving more embarrassing than the intermittent rust drool. Pharma was just glad no one seemed to be around to witness this indignity. He glanced around as they landed on some sort of balcony carved from the side of the mountain, listening as Liege Maximo welcomed them to his 'haven'. It reminded him of Delphi. Nothing around the facility for miles except pure white snow.

...How fitting.

Now if he could just get to that lab. And manage not to purge at the nonsense Drift was spewing.

"My designation is Pharma. And would you please put me down?" he insisted, staring pointedly at the floor.

"As for an assistant, I will find one myself. One that has actual knowledge of clinical procedure." He shot a glare at Drift.

Actually, its very entertaining

[maxicpolarity]

As much as Liege did not want to admit it, he was curious about these 'Knights of Cybertron.' They had not been brought up before, and they sounded...useful? Worrying?

Interesting.

He would settle for interesting.

His question about the Knights is halted by the second question, however, to which there is a distinct ruffling of his plating. "All of the Firstforged have purview over a domain, as provided by Primus. Vector, as you know, controls time. Prima controls Light. Nexus controls rarefied energon. It is all very useful in preparing this world for our creator, whether you believe in it or not." He threw a glare down to Pharma.

"And no. The fact that you are rusting on me is intolerable enough. I would prefer to minimize the fluids elsewhere, in case you are contagious to somebody else." In other words, stop dripping on his floor, you ingrate.

"If you must drip somewhere, drip in here." There were many hallways in his fortress, twisting in on each other, narrowing or expanding, causing problems in depth-of-field that would have been a nightmare to those without multiple senses. He, however, takes the straight path to one of his less-used laboratories, and as he speaks the door he's stopped in front of opens, and he walks through.

Here, Pharma, is what you will be using. It is large, and well-lit, and well stocked, and cold. The tools might be a bit bigger than what you are used to, but there are many of them and they are in excellent condition.

Only now does he release you both, having at least the courtesy to lower you down before his arms come away.

[sword_redemption]

Pharma? ..... Drift is around to witness your indignity. Ahem.

"Vector said that, too. That your kind won't get this." Which on the other side meant that Liege also thought they were contagious. That was not really a thought Drift wanted to have out there. But it meant his attempts to avoid everyone were right and good.

"...if we make a cure, we may need a third dose." Wing. Oh Drift doesn't want to think what he'd do if Wing got this. From him. Yeah. Not thinking about that.

Focus. On. The. Positive.

Like.... "But you still didn't say what your ability was."

Because that was way better than thinking about anything else. Like Wing. Like this lab which looked...very labby. "I can help, Pharma. I'm the only other one here who's safe to work with. And we're both on the same side, remember?" He flashes a grin.

[organ_pharming]

He meant people who's opinions would matter to him- not you, Drift.

Pharma was about to protest- something along the lines of their lives being more important than ruined floor tile- but thought better of it at as Leige continued his explanation and began heading towards the lab.

Once on his feet, the jet medic felt a lot better about the situation. There were more than enough usable tools here- not to mention room to work. He would have to check the supplies, which looked plentiful, but might differ from what he was used to using back on his Cybertron.

Were they really on a different Cybertron? For now he was going to chalk that up to some scientific reason that absolutely did not include any kind of magic.

"Third dose? Don't tell me you've been infecting mechs all over the place out there?" Pharma scoffed. "Perhaps I will allow you to assist. If just to keep you here and away from the general populace."

The jet really couldn't care less about how many others Drift infected. The more he provided a miracle cure for, the better he would look. Now he would just have to find a way to keep himself from grabbing that sword and jamming it down the white mech's throat.

[maxicpolarity]

"Vector is most probably right. I have yet to contract an illness, despite all of my travels." He'd seen plenty of illnesses, of course, but he had never been affected by one. In some ways he suspected Primus had seen to strengthening their immune systems...but that was more Alchemist's domain than his own.

"Make as many doses as you wish to. We can distribute them easily enough." Especially given the bright, neon signs of your disease. It's not likely that they'd miss anyone who was infected. "However, as Pharma has suggested, I would prefer if you both stayed here until you've completed the cure." Please.

Please don't rust all over his fortress.

Please.

"If you need an additional set of hands, you may call them here." He unsheathed what appeared to be an ancient datastick from his side, giving it to Drift to distribute to the both of them. "This upgrade should be able to connect your communications software to our Link network, and additionally serve as a translator. Please wash it before returning it to me." Really, he's not trying to be insulting, he just...

His lab.

And your rust.

And his stuff.

And your rust.

Still.

He can tell there's some animosity that Pharma is harboring toward Drift, which Drift doesn't seem to be returning, and that has him very interested in whatever might be going on between you. He'll be bringing it up later, Pharma.

If Drift doesn't figure it out, first.

His optics flashed towards the...ah...Knight, and he spoke soft, and low, and icily. "Not all abilities manifest immediately. I would prefer that mine not be discussed."

Certainly not before he'd gotten the reigns on it, himself. He didn't want his brothers to suspect.

He didn't know how they'd react, just yet.

"Is there anything else the pair of you will need?"

[sword_redemption]

Drift is vaguely beginning to miss Ratchet. Sure, Ratchet had by now developed a 'shut up, Drift' expression, but at least he wasn't quite so, well, condescending about it.

He frowns. "I tried to stay away from everyone. But he wouldn't stay away. I did my best to keep him away." But Wing could be kind of insistent. And Drift had never had much luck standing up to him.

He takes the datastick from Liege, chastened from Pharma's comments, being extra careful to hold it just barely between the tips of his fingers so that he made no contact with Liege, and when he finished, he handed it out, gingerly, to Pharma.

And then stops. Oh. Right. No hands. "Uh. I could...for you?" He gestured with the stick, awkwardly.

He frowns, looking over his shoulder at the Firstforged. "I won't discuss anything. I mean," he shrugs at Pharma. "Not really many people here to discuss with." Unless. Oh. "But, we're already inconveniencing you enough."

You know. The rust. The plague.

[organ_pharming]

Addtional set of hands. Pharma felt the very tips of his wings start to twitch. He glanced down at the second data stick Drift was holding out to him, a silent war between disgust and humiliation going on in his head for possession of his facial expression.

"This is ridiculous," he grumbled, settling on merely affronted. "I've never misplaced my tools in my entire life. And now here I am- without my most important pair." He offered a data port to Drift with a sigh.

To Liege, he figured he ought to act grateful, lest the big mech get it into his head to take back the laboratory on account of too little gratitude. "You've been most helpful. I will work to remedy this as fast as possible," he said.

[maxicpolarity]

"Any infections, at this point, can only be helped by your swift procurement of a cure." In a way, it was meant to be comforting to Drift. There was nothing the swordsmech could do about anyone who had come close to him...but there was something he could do about assisting Pharma, now.

"There is a wash-rack through that door." He gestured, indicating as clearly as he could that, once cured, the two of them should make use of cleaning themselves off. "The water is warm." That, Liege insisted upon, especially given how cold some of the outer rooms could get. At least here, in his mountains, he had the most access to water of any of the Firstforged, provided he could melt it first.

He reached out, taking back the datastick when Pharma was done with it, nodding to the medic in response to his gratitude.

Liege appreciated gratitude.

It meant that the recipient placed some value upon what was allowed, and considering Liege valued his laboratories greatly, it was good to find another mech who felt the same. However, he could do nothing about the hands.

"Use his," he said, cocking his helm toward Drift. "He's adept enough with his blades. For your cooperation," in other words, for staying in his lab and not making a mess of the rest of his fortress, "I will even provide an Acolyte to bring you energon and tools as you need." Almost eerily, one appeared in the doorway behind him, robed, and of a comparable height to the rusting Cybertronians.

"As to my purview..." Ah, now. Here was a game that he could play with one of Vector's 'Knights.'

"I will tell you, if you guess it correctly. Along with...other rewards. One guess per day." If nothing else, it would keep the swordsmech thinking about him...and Liege knew how well such thoughts could turn a mech's alignment. You're here, already.

Perhaps he'll keep you.

[sword_redemption]

Pharma's gripe did beg the question, and now that, you know, Drift could put his swords away and let his guard down, maybe it was time to ask.

"What did happen to your hands, anyway?"

Because, well, ewww.

He slotted the stick into Pharma's dataport. This was...really uncomfortably intimate. He was really glad when he could withdraw it, carefully wiping it clean along his thigh before handing it back to Liege.

"Acolyte?" At the mention of energon, it struck Drift exactly how long it had been since he'd fueled. A long time. And he'd done a lot of walking in the Junk Pile. He tried not to let it show. "So you're a priest?"

Wait. Was that today's guess?

[organ_pharming]

A wash-rack? Pharma sagged in relief to hear that he would not have to stoop to something silly like rolling around in the snow outside to rid him of all this slagging rust. It was nice to know this place was semi-civilized.

He was further cheered by the sudden acquisition of an acolyte. Maybe this Liege character wasn't so undesirable after all. He could excuse the rough handling in exchange for a staff member. "That is much appreciated. I can work much more efficiently with an errand mech."

Drift's question made him frown and glance down at his wrists, replaying the awful moment when a sword descended upon him from above and sliced his hands clean off.

"A maniac with a sword tried to end my life," he replied eventually.