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

[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.

[maxicpolarity]

"Priest is not a purview," Liege grumbled, putting away the data-stick. Primus, he is glad you aren't one of his. Why can't you be more like this nice, intelligent, cooperative doctor over here?

Well.

Minus the 'loosing his hands' part.

"It is an occupation. And if you could not guess my occupation by looking around, perhaps the rust has ruined your optics completely." There is a bit of ire in the words, but he's also not discounting the possibility that it might be true.

He nodded to the acolyte, who produced a pair of cubes and set them down on the nearest table, conveying instructions to the drone to obey this pair and report their every action to him.

The mention of a maniac with a sword does have him looking over Drift a little more intently, though, slowly starting to piece the echoes he'd been getting from Pharma with the words that he said.

"I'll leave you three to get acquainted, shall I?"

this is why I should not tag so late

[sword_redemption]

Wait a minute.

Drift tilts his head. "You were at Delphi. With the Red Rust. And those," he points to the cuts on the other's chassis, "you'd just gotten from the 3M mechs."

He shakes his head. "But I was the only one with a sword."

Puzzling. Very, very puzzling. If Pharma's waiting for the lightbulb to go off....he can keep waiting.

Because, clearly, someone must have snatched one of his blades from him after he'd passed out.

Drift hunches his shoulders under Liege's sarcasm. How's he supposed to know? Not a lot of priests, or really, anythings down in the gutters, so his knowledge of peacetime occupations is pretty limited.

"But I thought guessing science would be too easy." You know. Kind of weird to make 'let's play a secret mystery guessing game' when you're standing in the middle of the answer.

Unless your purview is 'the worst guessing-game-maker ever' which would mean, compared to Vector Prime, you kind of got shortchanged, Liege. Which might explain your grumpiness, come to think of it.

[organ_pharming]

Pharma glanced from the acolyte to the cube. Then from the cube to Drift.

....He was going to have to allow the samurai to hand feed him. Was there an indignity left that he had not suffered? The jet medic quickly decided to ignore the cube until he was absolutely going to pass out from lack of fuel.

"Please, let us not speak of Delphi. Not now. It's too fresh," he responded, making sure his expression was appropriately pained.

[maxicpolarity]

"Science is hardly a purview, either," he grumbled, turning to head toward the door. The two of them were tended to, and he might even find a way to eke a favor out of this from Vector, or convert Drift.

All in all it wasn't bad, though he swore he was going to take a long, hot shower in his personal washroom before he returned to the junk pile to help his brethren clean up.

He would speak to Pharma, later.

Alone.

And find out the truth.

Until then, he considered the matter closed. "Do not track rust into my hallways, if you leave," he offered, as his only goodbye.

Then, he was gone.

[sword_redemption]

Right. Drift is going to write 'bendy straw' on the very top of this list of things he's going to look for.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. I forget, you know, medics. You're not used to front line stuff."

It must have been a terrible shock, Delphi taken over, even if for a bit. Sensitivity was important. Drift will up the sensitivity. Poor Pharma.

"I'll make sure nothing like that happens here. You can trust me. I'll keep you safe."

....what was wrong with 'science'? Okay, it was a wrong guess, but Liege seemed kind of insulted by it. Right. He needs to start collecting clues. What did he know about Liege? Big lab, doesn't seem to like wrong guesses, or rust. Hm. This was tough.