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

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).