Re/Aligned Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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.))
Re: if you pull his handles you get swatted!
You'll have to pardon him, it's been a long time since he's called any version of Cybertron his home. And a symbol? He'd help you out with that if he'd managed to see it for himself. Feel free to observe all you need however, as mildly awkward as it is.
And he'll just pause a moment as that name tugs at something in his memory banks...though for now it seems buried too deep. But if he seemed polite before, he is perhaps even more-so now.
//I am Wing. I am seeking for aid for two who are stricken down on the surface. A medic and a swordmech like myself who are suffering from a plague.//
i'm just going to assume it visible somewhere on the armor; curse lack of altmode pics!
Vector can't help but smile. This 'Wing' is already showing himself quite promising, as grim as his news is.
//...would the swordmech happen to go by the name of 'Drift'?//
To think that there are more with disease...it's more than enough to remove the smile.
Best we can do for now!
//He would indeed! You've seen or spoken to Drift then? ...he still lives, I hope?//
The concern is plain, he couldn't hide it if he wanted to.
no subject
Vector seems quite certain of that, if nothing else.
no subject
Wing's relief is tangible, even in his altmode. That thing he just did? Could only be described as a shimmy of elation.
//There was another infected with the same plague, a medic also suffering from the loss of his hands. I'd sent Drift to his location in the hopes that I could find help for them both. Did you speak him as well?//
no subject
//It was my doing, yes. He is the only one I have seen - but if you show me to this medic, I may be able to aid him as well.//
We can assume Liege has come and gone so they find nothing but traces.
//I can't even begin to express my gratitude.//
//I do have coordinates for the medic's location, I can provide them or lead you there.//
What was proper data transfer etiquette in situations concerning large and decidedly important looking cosmic individuals? His training hadn't exactly prepared him for this. And speaking of proper etiquette, when Wing is a little less single mindedly focused on his promised duty, he'll be more amiable to the standard question and answer trope.
That works! /fastfowards a bit, assumes Vector can tell it was Liege around by plot magic
Though, for all the leading, for all the searching...it only ends with Vector kneeling on the ground, considering all the data he has available...
"I will contact my brother," he concedes, with just a hint of...something else in his voice. Something guarded. "Perhaps he has it well enough under control."
no subject
"As long as they are both safe somewhere, that is what matters." He wants to ask more, but he takes note of the Prime's tone and makes a compromise. "So...there are others like you?"
no subject
How to describe their attitudes without being too harsh?
"They choose to keep away from it," he decides, "and focus on their Work."
no subject
"I imagine their work must be important then." There's a half a question there, but it goes unspoken. "May I ask what that... Work entails?"
Wing looks about the Junk Pile, "You said this is Cybertron. I don't doubt you--" for a reason he was still trying to completely fathom, "--but it's nothing like the Cybertron I know. Only the stars are familiar..."
no subject
He sounds...quite solemn about it, but more than that. It's the sort of speech one gives when one is assured of their task and their place in the cosmos - and of its success.
no subject
His gaze is distant as he stands quietly and feels the weight of it, a solemn gravity that settles around them as context begins to illuminate the bigger picture of what thus far had been an awkward and confusing puzzle. A quiver runs through his EM field as he tries to grasp the depth of portent, strange prickles spreading over his frame.
When he snaps back to focus Wing turns to the Prime and asks simply, "What can I do?"
no subject
There was only one god that the Cybertronians would ever have as their own. Primus in all his glory, and until such a time as Cybertron was prepared for his arrival...
And it pleased Vector to no small end to see that Wing was willing to assist.
"Help us cleanse this world, Wing. There are beasts who lurk within its shadows, who would poison Primus' vessel - and even for those who cannot fight, there is construction to be done. For once Primus arrives, so shall more of his children, and they will need a foundation upon which to stand. I can think of no better to construct that foundation, than one who knows exactly what will be needed."
That would be you.
no subject
"So this it...the Beginning? Of our world, everything?" He's trying to absorb it all; it's a big to take in all at once.
"Yes. I will. However my skills and knowledge can be applied, then let it be so. I am at your service." Wing is fervent, animated now. So many, many centuries spent protecting, preserving, all passively underground. To finally get the opportunity to be proactive in those goals, and not just preserving the remnants but aiding in the creation of something new...he was starting to feel, more and more, that he was exactly where he needed to be.