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

NO, LIEGE, NO! If you feed him, he'll just follow you home.

[my_own_trope]

Starscream made a little noise of complaint at the spear being jostled, but got the idea and stopped trying to wiggle away. At the not so subtle threat however, his puppy face increased the degree of puppy to +6%. You don't really want to hurt him, do you, Liege? Wouldn't you rather trust him with all of your intel, make him your second in command, and give him the key to your energon stash? You wouldn't kick a turbofox, would you? Then why would you be mean to Starscream? Just look at that wittle face; that face belongs to someone that needs to be loved, and pampered, and taken care of. Or you know, shaken. Shaken until he stops making that face... I mean, seriously. Is anyone else getting uncomfortable here?

Privately Starscream thought he was getting the short end of the stick -- er, spear, here -- as it was, because 'Maximo' hadn't really offered much more information than his name and some angry pointing. On the bright side, he kept that opinion to himself. Also, 'brethren'? There were more of this guy?

And then, I'm sorry, were you saying something? Because Starscream can't hear you over 135% of his attention now focused on the cube in Maximo's hand. He'd actually started to reach for it without thinking, but when he realised exactly how far away it was, and furthermore how stupid he must have would have looked reaching for something out of his reach, with obvious restraint, he lowered his arm to his side, hand balling into a fist.

Actually, Starscream had learned quite a lot in this brief little exchange. For one, there were more titans running around here somewhere (who may or may not have been completely insane), that Maximo had energon (inside of him), that the autobot sob story and faction name drop hadn't triggered anything remotely indicating Maximo's allience, and that this was going to be how there were going to play their budding benefactor relationship.

Well, Starscream had enough practice with deference, and on his back, belly up, he couldn't really present himself in any more of a submitting position. So closing his eyes and bowing his head slightly, he said clearly, "My Lord, Liege Maximo." Then opening his eyes half way, heavy lidded, and respectfully cast down to Maximo's feat, Starscream added a soft, "Master," rolling the last 'r' just a touch, almost imperceptibly. And when he looked up again, eyes open normally, his expression was layered, complex, and ineffable.

He wasn't looking at the cube now, no. He was looking up, up, and then up some more, and holding Liege's stare.

Its okay. He's used to adopting *strays*

[maxicpolarity]

Master?

Master.

Truly.

The title came as a surprise to him, especially after the laughter from before. This mech truly was one to change his metal, particularly when it suited him...

...and given how strongly Starcream was desiring the energon cube at the moment, kindling accord with Liege's purview, he was willing to reward him for his excellent acting. "You almost said that like you believed it," he laughed, softly, and lowered the cube into the jet's reach.

He'd been called 'Master,' before, on one of the small number of world's where he'd taken his experiments much, much beyond what his brethren were aware of. It had pleased him, for a time.

It almost pleased him, now...but he was not ready to remove the spear, yet. If this creature could switch his opinion so quickly in one direction, it was possible he'd move just as quickly in the other. "Now. Do you have any questions, jet? You may ask them, if you give me a name to call you by."

So long as you don't start thinking of him by a name... oh goddamnit Maximo

[my_own_trope]

Up went Starscream's hands, fingers scrabbling to close over that cube which was pulled down against his chest, claws caging over it as if he was worried someone was going to try and take it away from him. There may have been the very tiniest tremble to his fingers, but he ignored that, ignored Maximo's jibe, and tried to ignore the fact that... he was still on his back. There was something poking his spine.

"I'm not a jet, I'm Cybertron's -- any Cybertron's -- most elite Energon Seeker. And you may address me as L-" He stopped himself, deciding that what sounded like a good idea in theory might be pushing his luck right now, and amended with, "Commander Starscream."

Hastily he added, "Questions! Yes! I... actually have many.
...
There isn't some sort of limit is there?"

Nope you're just 'jet' from now on

[maxicpolarity]

For the first time, this 'Starscream' had made a favorable enough impression that Liege actually smiled. "Commander Starscream, then." He heard that hidden 'Lord.' He heard it, because he knows you want it, and...that pleases him even more. He was getting better at hearing these 'wants' from others, he was sure of it. Having the Refugees return was giving him an excellent opportunity for testing his new powers out.

Identifying the fact that questions might not be free?

That earned you a bonus.

"Ask as many as you want." He gripped onto the spear, harder, before pulling it straight up and out, freeing the trapped air-frame. The slight serrations at the end of the spear probably weren't comfortable as it departed, but at least nothing ripped. "Though you'll have to stick around for the answers."

Don't get too attached either way. This one has a tendency to run away from home

[my_own_trope]

If you ever really get to know Starscream, Liege, you'll discover that he isn't actually a robot so much as this yawning black hole of want and need for things that constantly elude his grasp.

The retraction of the spear wasn't comfortable, but Starscream didn't do more than twitch this time, not making a noise. Once he was able, he scrambled to his feet, but the action was slow and ungainly given the way his entire posture was hunched around the cube he was still clutching to his chest.

His eyes narrowed slightly once he was upright again. "Why wouldn't I stick around?" Looked like that was his first question, and in so far as they went, that honestly wasn't a bad starter.

Obviously because he never gets the respect that he deserves

[maxicpolarity]

There is a reason you bear his glyph, then.

He'll feed those desires, as long as your actions suit him.

"Because you strike me as the type to flee unless you think you can win," he said, almost casually, and replaced the spear on his back. "Tell me your questions can be more creative than that?"

Finally! Someone who GETS that. (Actually he's just needy)

[my_own_trope]

He'll bear the glyph for now. And perhaps a while longer, even.


Starscream has some choice comments about Maximo's own, but holds it back and honest to Primus, pouts instead.

"Forgive me, but what I lack in creativity, I'll try to make up in quantity." For ever following question, he taps a single claw once against that small cube he's been given.

"First; I seem to have lost one of my possessions while in transit to this... wonderful planet of yours. How would I locate my belongings? Second, what are the coordinates of the two nearest spacebridges? Groundbriges too, where are they? Another question; this planet, what is its capital, and does it have an army?" A pause, and then, "Do you?" We're up to four taps now, and they just keep going.

"You mentioned refugees, who else is here? What are their numbers? And this... thing, sign, whatever," he glances to the queer floating mark on his arm with evident disapproval, "what is it, and how do I get rid of it?"

"Furthermore," and here the pout returns, "this energon, it is... not what I am used to. What are its properties? Is it ... safe to consume?" The fuel certainly hits his sensors with an energon signature but the readings are coming back foreign and strange. It isn't unheard in his old line of work, but still...why pink? That's kind of creepy, you know, it can't be natural.

And while he certainly has more questions -- many of which challenge Maximo's cover story of being one of the first forged -- those he'll keep to himself. For now.

Oh, we'll get along.

[maxicpolarity]

Ah, now there were the questions. Given the quantity, they even managed to cover more than the basics, and gave Liege more than a little of an inkling as to what this Commander Starscream was like. It was funny, that he thought himself uncreative.

"Any and all possessions that you did not wake up with either did not arrive, or are out there." He gestured to the junk pile as a whole. "Somewhere."

Well, now, this was getting specific.

"We have only our personal space-bridges, and I do not know what a ground bridge would be, if it differs somehow. Our capital?" Hm. There had been 'capitals' on the worlds he had visited, but they did not have anything comparable, here. "The Haven, which you are in the center of. It might not be what you're expecting, however."

He saw where these questions were heading.

"Now, now, Starscream, do you intend to conquer? I assure you, my brethren and I make up a force stronger than armies." There was no bragging in his tone. "As to Refugees, we have whoever falls through." A glance, up to the Lambda, to indicate what 'falls through' means. "And I would not recommend getting rid of your glyph, unless you want to be mistaken for a monster and killed. My brothers and sister target any creature without one." He did, as well.

Though often he'd try to capture them alive.

"The energon should be compatible with your systems. It did come from Cybertron, as did you, and I have not noticed it producing unusual effects in any Cybertronian thus far."

That was almost exhausting.

"Now. Would you like a place to stay, or do you enjoy recharging in garbage?"

Just wait till you see how much he _WANTS_ a Tcog. It's a tsunami of mighty need.

[my_own_trope]

Oh he didn't think himself uncreative, but surprisingly enough, he was no stranger to self-depreciation. Or sarcasm.

Looking out at the vast sea of junk, Starscream made a drawn out grumbling whine. How was he supposed to find the Apex Armour amongst all that? Somehow though, he wasn't even surprised.

'Personal.' Right. Fine. No sharing then. Got it. "Well at least the technology is feasible here," he said petulantly. Aaaaand looks like his priorities were getting reshuffled again. Hello new top of the to-do-list project. Brilliant. It only took him ages to oversee the building of the last two, and he'd had plenty of resources and staff back then. This time... this time he had garbage to work with. As for the groundbridges; he wasn't going to elaborate unless pressed. He had better things to do with his time than explain the simple version of tech to this behemoth already in possession of the upgraded kind.

And this was the closest thing the planet had to a capital? Then these huge Cybertronians went ahead and filled it with rubble and waste? ... Yeah, nice place you got here, guys. Real classy.

"I wouldn't dream of taking on the First Forged," he said, practically honest. At least not directly. And certainly not the real ones, if they truly existed at all. "But I'm a commander with millions of years of leadership behind me. If there is an army, I will lead it to glory." The very briefest of pauses before he adds, "in your name."

He glanced up at the Lambda to give his face something to do besides show his annoyance at the vagueness of 'whoever falls through.' That answer was hardly helpful. "It looks like a spacebridge malfunction," Starscream murmurs almost to himself, still looking at the tear in the sky, "but the colour's wrong, and... Never mind." Well, he had his own rough theories on what was going on here now, and while he'd still need to investigate, that would have to wait.

Primus, was there a lot to do.

Maybe if things went well, he'd even make time for a little game of capture and glyph removal. He'd certainly like to see Maximo and his brethren really hunt something. Stasrcream was sure it would prove highly entertaining.

He didn't say anymore on the topic of energon but at the reassurance, his claws tightened over the cube just that much more possessively.

Then Starscream's expression did something strange for a second, before smoothing out again. Did you really just invite him back to your place for the night, Liege? He's just met you and this is crazy...

But, "I'm open to alternatives."

He might already see. >.>

[maxicpolarity]

He sees you looking at the junk pile with disgust, and he knows what you are thinking...but he did warn you. The Haven is the capital, and the Junk Pile is the center, but it is hardly a city.

"Victory over whom, Commander Starscream?" he inquires, curious, reaching for his data stick with the Link Network upgrades on. It was, like every part of him, ancient in design, covered in scrollwork and glyphs that glowed. Reaching out, he offered it to the jet, wondering if he'd let go of the energon cube in order to take it.

"This should be compatible with your systems." There'd been a few mechs it did not work with, but overall it seemed to work. "Download the language software and the communications protocols, and there will be no one whom you cannot speak with. If you follow the coordinates inside, you will find my temple, and my acolytes will receive you." He paused, and considered.

"There will be more energon available, as well."

Liege is lucky Starscream considers him too big to be an appropriate donor or this would've been BAD

[my_own_trope]

"Your enemies," he answers casually, "or those that would seek to defy us." D'uh.

When the data stick is offered, Starscream just stares. Oh yes, "try it totally risk-free today"; "Upgrade Now!" "Just a minor monthly subscription fee and a ream of small print". Free swag from shifty strangers in space? No WAY could this be malware.
...
On the other hand, Starscream really didn't want to try for the much more complicated code overhaul he'd have to do by hand later...

His eyes drifte up to Liege as if trying to find his angle before going back to the data stick. It was obvious too he didn't relish the idea of let go of his energon. Whether this was instinct or just psychosis greed was impossible to know.

But than that last sentence did it, pushing Starscream to his decision like a flipped switch. The seeker's desire to be any state other than starving was just too great.

Moving the cube to the crook of one elbow, Starscream took the data stick and dropped it into the pocket of space where he kept his groundbridge control. Oh, I'm sorry, Max, did you want that back? Well, you should have said, because Starscream assumed it was a gift for his excellent behaviour. Also, he wasn't keen of broadcasting the fact that he'd need to manually pry open one of his plates to access his own input arrays.

((Hahaha Liege leaving a breadcrumb trail of energon cubes leading the way home))

For Starscream, yes.

[maxicpolarity]

"Then I may have need of your services after all," he said, believing that he both understood, and also understood. "There are forces which threaten this new Cybertron, and my brethren and I welcome any able-bodied assistance to the cause." It was a mantra that he'd obviously repeated at some point in the past, as the expression when he said it was far from enthusiastic.

"I will also be needing my data-stick back," he said, in a slightly more imperative tone. "Leave it with one of the acolytes when you arrive. Until then, I shall continue making my rounds."

Surely, the next mech that he ran into would be some improvement over this.

...

Then again, there was plenty about this 'Starscream' he could work with.

Liege might've been a *little* embarrassed as someone saw fit to saddle him with OrganMcGrabby-Claws

[my_own_trope]

Before the war (you know, when he still had his dignity and prestige) when people petitioned for his favour and allegiance, they usually at least tried to sound earnest about it. Liege's deadpan left a lot to be desired.

Still, it wouldn't be bad to finally get away from the overbearing and honestly, probably completely mad figure that was this 'First Forged'. Starscream needed some time to think about his next move. And download this data. And also, hoo boy did he want to get this energon inside him with a quickness.

"Err, well, I'll just run along then, won't I?" he asked, two fingers making like very (appropriately) thin legs running through the air, even as Starscream made no move in fact, to go anywhere.

Why don't you just walk away now, Liege? You don't want to see what happens next. Namely, you don't want to see what happens when a robot who's centre of gravity is in their neck, tries to wobble down a mountain that may as well be made of marbles, while operating on the locomotion of two very strangely, delicately designed legs. Also, obscenely elevated high heels.

Protip: if you ever decide to have a hand in being the father to your species, maybe when it comes to design cues, you should make the robots big on the bottom and tiny on the top instead of the other way around. You know, because gravity and mass and equilibrium are still a thing. (Even If Starscream sometimes pretends they aren't).