Re/Aligned Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
re_alignedmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.))
AWAKENING
oops I'm sorry for the TL;DR D:
First: check the self. No heartbeat, still, familiar enough, his cards still stored in his soul but much else... time eludes him. A flicker of it on the edges of his being he can feel, hook his fingers just into it enough to tell it to stop, but not enough to twist it, not enough to part the curtains of the future and see. Almost like being newly awakened as a Nobody, again (or was it asleep? The same thing, in his eyes, a card that read the same reversed as upright), with the feeling that he'd have to relearn all he'd discovered before.
Second: check memory. A futile effort, he knows, for he's seen time and time (ha!) again how fickle memory can be. What you remember is often a lie, and even those lies can sometimes become truth, if told long enough. He remembers...
Roxas. No... Sora. Sora fighting him, and Roxas just within, but their hands holding the same blade, both of them bound in fury, and not a single bit of hesitation. He knows they were not friends, that doesn't exist between nobodies, but there's still a... ...
It can't be a sense of betrayal, of course. To feel betrayed would require a heart. A... twinge. Of something. At the idea. Yes. But still. And he still doesn't understand why, why would Roxas choose a caged existence over gaining his own separate self? Or...
Or was it that the boy was betting on something else entirely? What cards had he held...? An ace up his sleeve? He hadn't had time to dwell on the thought. He'd raised his cards to protect himself, then darkness, then... this.
He sighs, exasperated. He notices that the Wheel of Fortune has already found its way into his fingers, and that his fingers had been idly twirling it the whole time. No.
He's not dead, that much is obvious. There's no afterlife for a Nobody, after all. So... another world. He couldn't have opened a Dark Corridor of his own volition, and besides which, this was no world he recognized. A new world.
"A mystery, then," he murmurs to himself. "A spin of the wheel, a gamble... hmm."
And then, one other thing. It's only just now that he notices it. He gently tugs at the sleeve of his coat, pulling it down just enough that he can see his bare shoulder.
Hmm. Another mystery. But again, not the first time... better to go into it with a positive outlook. A new deck of cards, a new game... only thing to do was to learn the rules. First things first: time to explore.
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Hello again
o boy here we go
XD Poor Luxord. He's going to be SO confused
luckily he's pretty used to stuff coming out of left field
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Before realizing they were already on him. That was odd, he didn't sleep with his glasses, and what was he feeling-
Blinking, he turned his head to the side, looking at what his hand had picked up. Some sort of... spongy plant? That was definitely not something he recognized. Making a face, he sat up, adjusting his glasses as he did. Dizzy, he felt even more confused as he took a look around.
...this had to be a dream. Dreams...felt real while you were in them, right? So the whole feel of stuff digging in to his pants was completely normal, the air that seemed just a little too hard to breathe was normal, the whole...everything.
"...hello?"
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She took two vents, optics kept off, scanners extending outwards, and while there were others around... Getting smoothly to her feet Elita stared. Junk? And the few individuals she could see were all unfamiliar, the specific comms for the crew of the Graviton silent.
... No matter any suspicion one might have towards using space bridges and transwarp, should it really be possible to be pulled out of a ship while during transwarp?
She needed a better idea of what was going on, and who was around if nothing else. Try to find Grim... Or Magnus. Springer, if neither of the first two could be found, then the others.
And if she was alone? Well, that wasn't unusual; she could manage. She was hard-pressed to not employ her alloys at their greatest effect, and merely to let her be... slightly less obvious among this mountain of scrap as she set off, careful to disturb as little of the junk as possible, but hardly impossible to spot.
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Blurr
Blurr’s optics snapped open. Could it be… his spark really survived to being crushed into a pile of scrap metal? His processor was reeling at why he wasn’t pressed into a cube and he looked down at his body. All looked fine, minus that glyph on his upper arm. Blurr was sure he didn’t have it before and it didn’t look like a Decepticon symbol. Where did it come from? The list of unanswered questions was growing into a slightly worrisome level.
He had to find Ultra Magnus, he had to tell him the truth about Shockwave and Wasp before it was too late and more damage could be done to their cause. His whole body felt like Jell-O however, and he stumbled to get up and have a good look around....
...What the frag was this place.
It looked so familiar, yet so strange...no, it couldn't be Cybertron, right? Blurr shock his head and after unsuccessfully trying to communicate with the elite guard he decided to do what he did best: Run. Perhaps he will find a way out if he looked all around the planet.
Sadly, the junk pile wasn't the best sort of surface for running and his right wheel quickly got stuck in it. He wasn't prone to panic but after being crushed by two moving walls, feeling trapped again was not something he enjoyed. Blurr was trying his best to free his right leg from the pile of wreckage but he wasn't being very successful.
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And then there's this. Waking up no where near Nanamagari, and something glowing on his forearm.
"What?" he utters to himself in English, stumbling to his feet. Gunmax glances over the junk pile, squinting behind his visor.
His antenna flicks once and he's searching for his motorcycle. Thankfully, Gunbike isn't too far off. He whistles for her, and she comes rolling up to his feet.
"Good girl," he murmurs back in Japanese, patting the bike's seat. The detective reaches around to pull out his badge, speaking into it.
"Yo, how about the rest of you quit being lazy and figure out where we are?" Gunmax pauses. "Anyone else there?"
A whole lot of silence.
"Unbelievable."
got the mod okay for this~
bwoo!
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He remembered.
He remembered the strange time before consciousness had dawned, when his body had been just a machine commanded by the humans. He remembered, also, when he had shut himself down, terrified by the actions he had taken under the influence of the demon, Inti.
Now, though, there was a blank where memory should have been. There was a void, in the midst of data.
And he, somehow, had ended up in the junkyard.
It had to have been a mistake. They'd been battling, perhaps? Something had knocked him unconscious? It...could be that, couldn't it?
But every sensor had screamed at him when his optics had came online, staring up at stars that weren't in the right places, feeling rubble underneath him that was too fresh to belong in a junkyard, smelling dryness and metal and a hundred other scents that, when processed, only equaled one thing.
This was not earth.
He was not supposed to be here.
Immediately, he grabbed for his shotgun.
Not finding it at his side he sat up, his torso wheeling, glancing left and right until he found it, took it, and kept it for only an instant, comforting, in his grasp.
If he was here, and if he did not remember...
Something was afoot.
If he was here, and if he did not remember, he was going to be ready for anything.
McCrane stood up, and brandished his weapon at the world.
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After lying there musing silently, he peeked an eye open a sliver, and the blurry image only caused both optics to come online, the baby blue light illuminating the area around him. What the scrap...
This wasn't Earth. He hadn't stayed long on the marble, but he knew Earth when he saw it, and this was pretty far from what he'd come to experience. The stars he'd gotten to know when spending nights outside had all jumbled themselves up in a neat little puzzle, remaining a mystery once again.
Had he been ambushed? Taken to another planet?
Perfect.
And then, the Wrecker glanced down at his surroundings. Oh, that was classy. Thrown into a junk heap like a bunch of scrap metal? Call him Mr. Lucky. His eyebrow perked as he began to shift himself out of the wreckage, using the light from the distance to see what exactly he was under. The sheet metal was easy to kick off, but the larger pieces definitely required more effort, and Wheeljack had to utilize both hands to toss it off his abdomen.
"These guys sure know how to give a proper welcome, I'll give 'em that." he muttered to himself as he rubbed his helm, sliding to his feet to get a look around.
With both light sources, it was hard to tell which direction to go, and thus, stood at a crossroad.
Sword robros are go? (maybe Jack can hear him?)
Sword bros are definitely go!
Annie waking up (TLDR this post only)
You may also have some greenish blue deer
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1/2
2/2
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And promptly turned his mind towards other matters, hardly even registering that he was on top of Starscream as he looked around, optic-focus slightly fuzzy before he reset them and his automatic system's scan returning "parameters normal"---
Normal?
They hadn't been normal in orns and mega-cycles... Months, as humans termed it. Frowning at the tear of white in the otherwise dark sky, Jetfire thoughtlfully flexed his wings and felt a certain pleasure at being his correct size again. Still aware of Starscream's presence underneath him (enough to give another squeeze along Starscream's back, even), but focused on other things, Jetfire looked down... and met with the dark visor of his own helmet deposited in the junk in front of him. How... was it here?
Where was here? Looking around further, Jetfire realized that lying here until everything had been confirmed as all right and Starscream woke up on his own wouldn't gain
himthem any better idea of where they were."Starscream---"
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Re: AWAKENING
Those were the last coherent thoughts that Wing's muddled processor returned after a status query. The rest--the terrible burning sensation, the jagged tear at the heart of him that felt like his world shattering, falling, the world full of color and light and pain beyond imagining before darkness--simply loomed in his memory like a chaotic wound. It made little to no sense in contrast to the still surroundings of the strange gulch made of debris in which he lay.
He shifted. His joints seemed to ache, his frame tight, like that slightly unfamiliar feeling that accompanied new repairs. His hand twitched and he realized he'd been rubbing it over the center of his chassis, above his spark chamber. Scenes of the battle to save New Crystal City came to him. The battle in the desert, his struggle with Braid--fought and...lost.
Yet, he was whole? Was he dead? This...did not match any of the expectations Cybertronians had for an afterlife. Wing shook his helm. Though uncertain what the strange chaotic memories following Braid's attack meant, they were not the most immediate issue.
Wing rose to a sitting position, the digits on his hand bumping an object lying beside him. His Great Sword. He curled his fingers around it, the first familiar thing to greet him in this strange place, and it sang to him. He felt his spark flicker in acknowledgment. No. Not dead. But then--the battle?
The knight rolled to his feet in a swift movement despite the tightness in his frame, swinging the Great Sword onto his back where it effortlessly locked into its cradle. "Drift?!" He called, his comm useless, while scanning the area and listening for sounds of battle, "DRIFT!!" He pushed away the pangs of anxiety that threatened. "Axe? Anyone!?"
a little different than planned, but let me know if this is alright?
Oh we can work with this, yes!
Excellent!
Re: Excellent!
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Slipstream AWAKENING
She rubbed at the side of her helm, then pushed herself into a sitting position, not an easy feat, even for a bot of agile build, as the terrain was so- Well, not terrain at all. She was perched halfway up - or down - a loose mound of-
Her talons lifted a mahogany newel post carved with Fleur-de-lis...a tiny bi-lingual dictionary...a pair of spectacles...little, Asian-looking garments...a video game cartridge. "Junk!" She threw up her hands in frustration.
All of this reminded Slipstream of something. She tried to match this experience to something in memory. But, noting the lack of landmarks other than heaps of junk, and the very strange sky, she didn't immediately see how any of this could be familiar.
"Was it one of those sci-fi movies on the Man Channel?" She asked herself. For some reason, the Detroit stations aired a lot of old movies starring that Edsel guy. No enclosing walls or fiery doom, and no tentacle beasts, hopefully. Just plenty of trash.
Had she come online in a pile of trash once before? No. She hadn't! The information in the datatrack was like a bare armature of a memory; not something she had experienced. It was just something she knew.
Slipstream stood quickly, or attempted it, but sensors warned of an obstruction in her right thruster, and the mound shifted under the increased pressure of her left foot. Slipstream promptly fell more or less forward; debris slid down the backs of her wings.
"STARSCREAM!" She yelled. Offlined or not, somehow she was sure this was all his fault!
Re: Slipstream AWAKENING
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Playing fast and loose with IDW gender WTFuckery
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It takes a while for the large Decepticon to finally wake and pull himself up out of the rubble and scrap. Thankfully locating the Driller isn't difficult, despite the poor lighting condition - the creature isn't near small enough to miss.
Where they are, Shockwave can't be sure, but it clearly isn't where they'd been previously. How seems a more appropriate question, and the pillars could be the culprit. Yet, this doesn't looks like the home he knows.
As Shockwave stands in contemplation, the Driller finally stirs, raising its head in alarm and immediately trashing its tentacles out with howl. A small fearful temper tantrum, and one Shockwave doesn't seem interested in stopping.
He has far more important things to be thinking about.
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raf's hair will be the end of him
at least it'll still look good at the end
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Once he steadies himself he finally gets the chance to look around... only to slump slightly. Oh, no. His handler couldn't have fixed him up just to decide to dump him anyway. He's not ready to go. Charlie obviously hadn't been ready to let him go either. And Max... the tiny human had liked him, he thought. So who would leave him here? Without taking out his voice control at least, anyway; he can feel a foreign object that he can only assume is the headset wrapped around his neck.
Finally, he looks up the pile of wreckage, pistons groaning smoothly for once. Then, he starts a slow climb to the top. Whether or not he's been consigned to the scrapheap, his batteries still have power. He's going to find some answers, if he can. Starting with how this place looks from higher up.
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Re: AWAKENING
No four walls, no cage. Good so far, real goo--
Korra stared. It looked like--was this the junkyard Asami had talked about before?
"You are merely a half-baked Avatar in training."
It would be like Tarrlok to dump her out with the trash--
With the memory and everything, Korra lost control of her bending, breathing fire and making the ground shake, some of the debris warping and twisting.
Be the leaf, be the leaf, Korra thought, trying to calm down, and it worked, somewhat, though thinking of Meelo and the other airbender kids and Tenzin and Pema and their island made Korra's heart twist.
(She knew where she left Naga, what she told her--Korra tried to push that memory far back, it was suffocating.)
The girl breathed again and no fire burst out; the ground and debris settled.
Korra looked around and began walking, carefully, her body tensed and ready to attack should Tarrlok or anyone come....
This place was strange though. If this was a junk yard in Republic City, Korra should've seen the outlines of solid angular buildings in the distance, shouldn't she?
And the sky--holyshit, the sky. It reminded her of the rainbow southern lights back home--but only reminded. They weren't the southern lights. (And Korra's stomach lurched at the thought of her mother and father waiting for her weekly letter.)
Korra brushed the hair out of her eyes, as she watched the lights--she scowled as her hand rubbed too hard against the gash on her cheek. Korra looked over the rest of her injuries from Tarrlok's attack. She grimaced, remembering how she ignored Sifu Katara's advice about keeping a waterskin on her at all times--she was the Avatar, master of all the elements, if she couldn't waterbend, she always had earth and fire--
But only water could heal. And Katara had always warned her there may come a time where only Korra could heal someone.
Well, at least her screwup wasn't costing anyone's life...currently. Korra shuddered at thought of Republic City, how it was when she left it--
Korra paused, reconsidering what she took to be another cut on her arm. It was pure black, and not haphazardly sliced; it was made of many intricate lines, an elaborate character in a calligrapher's brush. Korra poked it; she felt no texture of black ink, her finger didn't come away wet or black. She felt no texture from the strange character at all. She frowned, rubbing furiously at it. Still, nothing.
The girl threw up her arms, giving a loud sigh. "Whatever."
The hell, did Tarrlok brand her or something--okay, bad thought, Dai Li mind wipe now.
Korra continued stalking around and keeping her guard up, while musing that if not for the very sucky circumstances, she'd think the character on her upper arm was a pretty cool tattoo.
The girl's step slowed a moment, catching sight of something lumbering and tall as one of Hiroshi's mech tanks. No, not lumbering. Limping.
Korra watched, wary.
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OOC
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Of course, after the first few muzzy seconds, he realizes that he's not lying comfortably in his berth, and that he's tangled up with ... something.
His optics blink on.
Make that someone. Someone who is a suspiciously familiar shade of deep magenta.
"AUALKSJDF!"
Random static bursts from his vocalizer as he tries to pull away to get a better look, and utterly fails. His chevron is stuck in this hopefully-a-stranger's waist, and he can't quite twist his head enough to get it out. Desperately, he reaches up and starts blindly patting at whatever he can reach, trying to figure out how he's stuck. It is not the best of strategies, but then, he's not exactly at the top of his game at the moment.
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SOME TIME LATER
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No.
Of course not.
Megamind comes to in the bucket seats of a gutted, ruined car; he sits up, and rubs his head, before he spills out of the tilted vehicle as his inner ear protests and he loses his balance. He's got to find his bearings, get his feet under him--
--because above him? Space is undulating as the Lambda tear ripples in the sky and he stares, transfixed.
It must be a dream.
All that horribleness, all that failure, leaving him at rock bottom? It must be a dream, else he must figure that his adoptive world itself has rejected and finally sent him back adrift in space.
All he can say, rubbing one enormous blue temple is, "Well, crap."
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This instance was no different.
First he ended up in a strange castle and was shrunken down to almost human size. Then weird things happened with Jetfire (which he still wasn't sure what to think about. It was complicated). And to top things off he awakens again in yet another strange place.
Though it did have a certain familiarity about it.
Unfortunately his first several moments were wasted trying to get out from under Jetfire. He didn't even take notice of his surroundings until sometime later after he decided to wander a bit.
At least his internal diagnostics were reading normal, but he couldn't wrap his processor around what was going on.
"Why do these stupid slagging things keep happening to me?!" He actually made a fist and held it slightly towards the sky as if he were speaking to another force.
Not that he believed in such things.
No really, he didn't.
Though on a brighter thought, he noted that at least he wasn't alone to suffer. Jetfire was also here, and it was a silent comfort, though he wouldn't admit to it being one.
He kicked a piece of debris as though he needed to outwardly prove just how annoyed he was. Which maybe he did.
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But the rest wasn't silence. First his sense picked up the whooping of air from the high velocity of his descent, a descent into darkness. The impact told him this was definitely not the well of allsparks.
The haze of flickering in and out of consciousness made it hard to keep his usual militant awareness. Even coming into full consciousness failed to help.
Ah, this must be the pit...but wait. A marking on his arm. Could it be the marking of the damned? Who knew. Dinobot would have to find out whether death had taken him to the unknown country or if he had gone to another world displaced from his own.
Hauling himself to his feet, Dinobot's eyes narrowed as he scanned the heaps of junk, a hellish wasteland indeed.
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He knew he was dead. He knew that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, because he had surrendered his spark willingly. A small price to save a world, he thought -- just one bot's spark. (Two, if you count Starscream's stolen AllSpark shard, which Prowl most certainly did not.)
Death, however, looked entirely too much like a scrap heap and less like a well of souls, where all things came together and all things melded into a whole. No, this was--
Not death.
Not anymore.
Prowl didn't let that stop him. No; he got himself stable and upright, he began to head up the nearest hill. There he stood, for a moment, listening to voices echo up out of the morass of garbage and lost parts, and he realized that he was most certainly not offline, no. No. He had been rendered fully functional, returned to operating parameters...
But for what purpose? He did not know. He suspected the answers would be found at the light. The lost would likely be as confused as he about their arrival here, and so he did not trouble himself with them. Instead--
--he simply began to walk across the junk pile, heading south.
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But if he'd been knocked unconscious, someone would have been trying to wake him up. And even if they weren't, Kazuma's son never seemed to be able to stay to silent for longer than half a minute. He'd be making noise, even if the others were quiet.
Then he opened his eyes to find an unfamiliar sky twinkling back at him. It wasn't same sky as the field spell Cosmic Frontier, and the stars were in all the wrong places otherwise, and that wasn't counting the weird glowing line and two moons. He carefully sat up to get a better look around. The world around him wasn't much better; his Duel Coaster car was nearby, but everything else was alien. Another field spell? He briefly closed his eyes and willed his D-Gazer turn off, but no, when he opened his eyes again, the world was still completely unfamiliar.
And the others weren't anywhere to be seen.
"Kaito?"
Silence.
"Kaito!" he called again. "Yuma! Kaito!"
Nothing. Either they weren't here, or they'd also been knocked unconscious. V was more inclined to believe the former.
Plan B then. He reached for the power Tron had given him to open a portal back home. He would have had to return home eventually anyway, now that he was out of the tournament. But the familiar swell of power came and went and no portal was left behind. And that was wrong. He should have been able to open a portal from anywhere.
On Earth. If this wasn't a field spell, and he couldn't teleport home, then obviously this wasn't Earth. Somehow. Perhaps it had been losing a duel while using a Numbers? But nothing like this had happened to III...
V slowly got to his feet and reached up to pull his hair back behind his shoulders--and that was when he noticed it. There was a mark on his right wrist, half covered by his sleeve and glowing very faintly. It reminded him of their crests in a way, IV's specifically, or Tron's, though it was far less elegant.
Well, he wouldn't find any answers while sitting around. That was what Mr. Kazuma had said all those years ago, and he'd been absolutely right. So he made a note of what his surroundings looked like so he could find his way back here for the coaster car, and then started picking his way through the rubble.
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Re: AWAKENING
Pharma transformed.
The ground found him anyway, what seemed like years later. The ground, that was not white or soft, and the sky above that was strange and clear.
Pharma sat up with a groan, glancing around in complete bewilderment. He was not dead. A good start. But he was not on Delphi any longer. That much was made apparent by the lack of snow and the abundance of....junk? Had the entire fight with Ratchet and Drift been imagined?
The jet medic raised a hand to scrub at his face and discovered that he had no hand. Both wrists, in fact, ended in stumps that coils of inert wire spilled from like innards. Not imagined then. A fleck of red spattered on his arm, dripping down the white plating.
...Definitely not imagined.
Re: AWAKENING
Re: AWAKENING
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Re: AWAKENING
The last thing he remembered was dieing. Not an infrequent thing for him- he'd done it at least half a dozen times during his short stay on Earth. But this time had felt different. The horrible pain of the all-spark fragment being forcibly pried out of his head and then the slow, cold spread of grey death throughout his body. Even then he still hadn't believed it would be permanent. He could not die. Not before he'd achieved everything he desired. Gained everything he deserved. The universe owed him at least that much.
"Why is it always a garbage heap?" he shrieked, starting to get insulted by the frequency of the occurrence. "Who the frag is just going around dumping bodies onto filthy barges?!"
Probably Megatron. Or one of his awful clones. He was willing to bet Slipstream wouldn't even think twice before throwing his empty shell away.
...Or the autobots. They had been the ones to kill him in the first place after all. Funny how their credo of peaceful conflict resolution did not apply to him. Good thing he had no such pacifistic beliefs. Someone was going to pay for this.
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Joint Post for Interactions with Drift & Annie (After Wheeljack interaction)
Far too afraid to be left alone here, Annie has been following Drift. Doing her best to keep up with a being of Drift's size, she has to hurry along as she is not even tall enough to reach his knee joint. Of course while moving over such a haphazardly stacked heap, some items are bound to come loose. One such item slides right out from sticking into the pile as she tries to hop up onto it to follow at a higher level. In her rush, Annie had not quite had her balance, and so as the support beneath her feet drops out, she drops with it.
Letting out a high-pitched scream of fright as she falls, Annie drops downwards along the side of the junk pile. With momentum carrying her and knocking smaller items loose as she passes, she slides down along on her side with her pink jacket pulling up and trailing under her arm.
let me know if this is okay
Looks perfect to me~
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you realize you are the first female robot he's seen?
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Thread for KO, Korra, and Wing
Of course, it didn't seem to occur to him that he and his companion hadn't actually gone as far as he thought. After all, he was still limping, even if movement was significantly easier with the grit gone from his systems; he wasn't moving as fast or as far with each stride as he usually did. And accommodating for the human-sized stride of Korra slowed him down even more.
Surely there was an end to the junk, but it was probably going to take them longer than Knock Out anticipated to reach it.
Still, he trudged along with his unexpected companion. As before, he was preoccupied with his pain, and perhaps not paying as much attention to his surroundings-- and the strangers who might be lurking there-- as he should.
Re: Thread for KO, Korra, and Wing
Re: Thread for KO, Korra, and Wing
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Sari jolted up from the uneven ground, head spinning, a distant beacon of light in a strange sky making her eyes ache. Reflexively, she turned to find her dad - she still had questions, she was still so angry; her arm still throbbed, skin raw and torn and the completely foreign pain of shattered circuits only adding to the panic.
But he wasn't there. No one she knew was there. The city was gone, and a mountain of random...junk was all that remained.
...Did Detroit have another trash strike while she was unconscious?
Thin legs shaky, Sari staggered to her feet, clutching her injured arm to her chest. Spinning on the spot, she kept searching, denying what her eyes were telling her. They couldn't be gone. The Autobots wouldn't have left her alone, even if she was a-
"Guys? ...G-guys? Not funny Bumblebee!"
Stubbornly, she headed toward the nearest large rocky outcropping poking out amongst the scrap, sure they would all be huddled behind it, snickering at her confusion...no matter how illogical the assumption was.
"Come on! Optimus, tell Bee to knock it off! Pleeease?"
There...was no one behind the rock. It didn't look like anyone had ever been behind the rock. Vision going fuzzy with tears, Sari circled the rock as though she would catch them dodging just out of her sight, panic building as she tripped over the rougher patches of junk. But finally, she couldn't deny it any longer.
She was alone. Sari sniffled, slumping down as her shoulders began to shake with barely suppressed sobs, wiping eyes and running nose on a sleeve.
"...N-now what?"
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OK?
YES sorry this got buried /fails
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/sneaks on up in here
bweeeeee
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