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

[clay_doll]

The reassurance from Drift that he would at least be careful and the added words from Wing that he would look after them both were enough to soothe and eliminate her hesitation. It was one thing to know that a cure to the sickness was possible, but another entirely to have a promise to try to follow that route through...especially considering the infectious nature of illnesses as she understands them. As long as Wing made certain Drift followed through, she would accept it.

As Wing kneels down to speak to her, Annie focuses towards him fully to listen. Rather stunned by the notion that she is brave in any way, Annie shakes her head faintly to deny it. Drift knows the mech and trusts in him enough to give her to him when he's thus far guarded her so well, so she has no reason to suspect Wing as being any sort of threat to her. Still, she listens on without interruption, and introduces herself in return, "I'm Annie..." only to then realize what he said completely.

...I will fly you to safety.

In a rush, that anxiety returns as her lips tighten together and her form seems to pull inwards, "...f-fly?" She has never been flying before, and with no explicit memories from her father, she has no way to reference what to expect.

Thankfully, in the next moment, Drift asks regarding the red liquid. Twisting back around to look to him and see the gesture towards the streaks on his legs, she processes the question with only slight difficulty before she starts to look herself over. Checking her hands first, she feels along her sleeves with her hands, then gives herself a visual scan from her chest down to her feet, and even twists at the middle to look down the backs of her legs.

Nothing feels wet, and nothing appears to be the right color to match it, "...I-I don't think so."

[winged_knight]

Wing thought it unlikely he'd gotten close enough to the medic to come in contact with the substance, but he couldn't say the same for the nearby environment and checked the bottom of his footplates regardless.

"It seems not. His condition is not nearly as...advanced as yours is." Wing wanted to ask how much time, assuming Drift knew, but he also didn't want the answer to steal away his hope. "Is that the only way this plague is transmitted?"

He had to hope so.

Wing only smiles as Annie shakes her head, and notes her uncertainty at the notion of flying. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Annie. I assure you I've been flying for a very long time." It might boggle her mind to know exactly how long, but let's not get into that just yet. "I would go by foot, but I think we can both agree that haste is required here?" His gaze flickered to Drift as he spoke, but otherwise he focused on Annie, his voice gentle. "I'll keep to my slowest speed and not make any abrupt movements. Think you can handle that?"

Though his voice was gentle and patient, the wing panels on his back gave a restless twitch.

[sword_redemption]

Drift doesn't need anyone looking after him. He's managed fine for the last few million years. He'd started in the gutters as a 'wasted spark' and that had never left him.

"All right," he says, blandly. His objections would be overruled, he realizes. And the longer they stood here talking, the greater chance Wing would be infected. He's exposed him long enough already, too long.

Besides, he isn't the important one. He was going to die, anyway. What matters is a) getting Annie to safety, b) getting Annie away before he died, and c) getting Wing out of here.

This isn't the gutters, but Drift has learned more than a few tricks about disappearing.

"It's all right, Annie. You can trust him."

((ooc: skippable))

[clay_doll]

The mere idea of flying is terrifying to Annie, and so after listening to both Wing and Drift provide her with assurances that it would be a careful ride, she looks downwards to consider. She has no doubt in her that she would not be physically kept safe by Wing, but it is hard to quell fear of an unknown.

Taking in a deeper breath to steady herself, she lifts her head and nods her head once firmly with a bob of her dark hair as she resolves herself to going willingly without further fuss. She had to do it for Drift, and as Wing had pointed out, making haste would be in Drift's best interest.

Annie looks to Drift, waiting for him to lower her down so that she could step off his servo, and once he does, she crouches to then sit herself on the side of his servo with hands on either side of her hips. From there, legs together, she slides over the side and pulls one hand away. The other hand lingers behind, pressed against his palm, and with one more look up to Drift with a silent plea to be safe, she draws away from him to turn and walk to Wing.

[winged_knight]

It pains him, this scenario. He feels entirely inadequate to address it satisfactorily. He can only hope he's chosen the best course.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

Wing turns to Annie. The degree of devotion Drift has engendered in this young girl is touching. Wing feels a sad smile touch his face, born out of pride. He doesn't know if this Drift shares the same history Wing does, but if it was at all similar, then the former Decepticon had come a very long way.

Wing has a smile for Annie when she arrives at his side. "See, you're braver than you give yourself credit for."

He straightens, with one last look Drift's way.

He's tempted to linger. He's tempted to do a great many things. Instead he nods once, not in any way a goodbye, and says "Just hang on. Please?"

And with the same natural grace Wing has always displayed, he leaps and reveals his altmode in a whirl of shifting metal, the sleek jet's anti-grav field coming to rest just off the ground near Annie. A panel, like a stylized canopy near the nose, slides open. It reveals a storage compartment of a size that should accommodate girl. He regrets that it's not a properly cushy cockpit, he'll have to do something about that later, but it's space enough to sit safely and still see out.