re_alignment_logs | OPENING LOG: Awakening

Entry tags:

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.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Slipstream turned her head slightly, to say she observed the observation, but the brands were what they were. She wasn't going to announce how it was she'd gotten Decepticon brands on her wings without taking vows to serve Megatron in particular, and neither was she going to deny her faction allegiance. She was all for getting Cybertron and the AllSpark out of the control of a corrupt Autobot regime, regardless of who led the faction.

She shifted her gaze to the unfamiliar body type and what looked like flight control surfaces. Observation: no more hidden than the last. "It's not Earth or Luna." She judged that from a scan of the sky. She would have next guessed one of the Jovian moons, but no gas giants were in view. "It doesn't look like Cybertron." And, that slash in the sky was like something out of a sci-fi show. It didn't look good.

"Wing," she said, "it's not a bad designation." She thought it a curiously nice name, actually; wings being at one's side, something to be guided or instructed under, allowing the freedom of flight, stability within atmosphere, a unit within an air force, a place to wait until it was time to take the spotlight, a gift for improvised tactics.

It argued all the more for the bot being a flier. She wasn't quite decided if it was better or worse to have a flier know she was grounded, even temporarily. "Slipstream," she said, with a quick gesture toward herself. "You think it's smart to fly here?" Of course this didn't answer whether she'd like help picking whatever it was from her thruster-heel, not directly. She didn't think it made sense to repair the thruster now, if she was going to be walking down the mountain of trash where it might just get jammed again.

"No, it does not look like the Cybertron I remember," Wing shook his head, "But the last time I saw it was before the war. Some of the constellations look familiar though. You mentioned Earth? Luna? Is that where you were last? I'm unfamiliar."

Her frametype seemed familiar, Vosian perhaps? Seeker potentially. He supposed he'd find out. "Well met, Slipstream," he inclined his head. "I'm not sure that it's safe to take to the air yet. Having no idea what we're dealing with here, and being airborne means being very exposed. I was trying to scout some on foot first, as inconvenient as that is." The folded wing panels on his back twitched again as if in agreement. He was also loathe to waste the fuel, but inferring that there might be any possible shortage of fuel around a Decepticon did not be the brightest of ideas.

Technically it was well after the war, so far as Slipstream knew, not that the treaty had really stopped hostilities or a lust for vengeance among numerous Decepticons. "It's over. You know?" And as if she cared little for the answer, and she did, she went on talking, "Luna's the natural satellite of Earth. They're-" She had to calculate for a nanoklik or two, "Let's just say they are places of interest." That wasn't untrue, but she hadn't feel like revealing that they weren't proper colonies, or that the AllSpark had been there.

Slipstream gave a nod, then stepped carefully down the slope, testing the larger pieces of debris with the point of her foot, before shifting weight. "That's a good strategy," she said.

It was near to her own. Slipstream had to wonder how Wing hadn't been snatched up by the Decepticons, given he actually seemed competent and a decent strategist, not to mention a flier.

"So, where were you, last? During the war?"

"It's what--!? Over?" Wing started, looking at Slipstream with a touch of shock. His optical crest pinched in contemplation. He wanted to welcome this news. To believe it. And though he and the rest of the Knights had been secluded for a very long time, Drift's recent appearance and constant demand to return to the war spoke a different story. Sudden thoughts of the other mech tangled in his processor and he pushed them away. This...was not the time for such regrets.

"Curious. I...had recently spoken to someone, of your own faction even, whom was very eager to get back to the war. He seemed to believe it was still going on."

It was possible she was lying, but he could see nothing to gain from the deception. Perhaps there was another explanation. Slipstream seemed amicable enough and was certainly sensible. The situation called for pragmatism over factioneering, something Wing hoped would continue to prevail.

Slipstream's careful words regarding Earth were noted. "There are several planets that are places of...interest to both Autobots and Decepticons. It rarely bods well for the inhabitants." His tone is even and cool but not without an undertone of recrimination.

Wing gestured to the south. "I was picking up some strange sensor readings from that direction. I've no way of knowing how correct they are--I can't tell if there's some local interference or if they need re-calibration--but it was the direction I was headed. For lack of something better."

The knight chooses his words carefully when responding to the other jet's question. "I hail from one of the outlying colonies. Created near the start of the war." His hand strays to the center of his chassis, thumb absently rubbing the plating there. The ailerons flanking the nacelles on his shoulders draw in tightly.

"Yeah." She thought this stuff was common knowledge. "Tyrest Accord. Decepticons got some kind of amnesty and in exchange left Cybertron." She didn't know any more than an average Decepticon, but her tone was irritable enough - or extra irritable - to say she didn't much care for the deal. "Don't ask me why Decepticons agreed to be exiled, then built-up their outer rim colonies, if they were just going to try to get Cybertron back!"

She'd been disappointed by two Decepticon leaders thus far, and she was aware she wasn't very old for a Cybertronian. She didn't want to be leader, she really didn't, but they needed someone better!

"You saw other Decepticons here?" She hadn't, yet. "You get names?" Their designations would be helpful in judging if she trusted their claims, or possibly in locating allies. Maybe with someone with real leadership potential who knew how to listen to good advice when she gave it!

In comparison, further discussion of Earth or colonies didn't interest her. There were plenty of Cybertronian colonies between the Commonwealth and Empire, not that she'd seen them herself. Still, that there existed odd looking bots from outlying colonies made sense to her.

She scanned south as she listened, then turned. Slipstream wasn't sure what to make of the hand gesture, it didn't look deliberate. But to her, the movement of control surfaces seemed to say tension. It wasn't quite as clear as when reading Starscream's body language, or that of her brothers.

"You some kind of..." She had to search her language data to even come up with a term for it, "objector to war?"

Wing contemplated those words. It seemed feasible, both the Tyrest Accord's actions and the Decepticons desire to take Cybertron back. The aggressively passionate way Megatron pursued his values and goals for a reformed Cybertronian society would demand that any exile be short-lived.

"Interesting. Granted I have not heard much news of the war, being so isolated, but what I have heard is different. I wonder... I wonder if it has something to do with how we got here. Perhaps our origins in time differ?" He offered, uncertain of such things.

"Other Decepticons, here? No, not yet at any rate. The one I mentioned was...from before I got here." He left it at that, idle thoughts picking at the notion that the battle for New Crystal City might still be happening, somewhere, sometime... He needed to get back there.

Slipstream's last comment brought his awareness fully around. The hand over his spark chamber twitched and he flexed it as if it was stiff, forcibly returning it to this side.

"Objector to war?" He gazed at her a moment; she was bright, perceptive. Good qualities but he'd have to watch himself. "After a fashion yes. Battle and war can have its place but often the means do not justify the ends."

"Interesting?" She asked as if it were the most ludicrous thing she ever heard. Just 'Interesting'?! But, to her, it was really a rhetorical question meant only to mock Wing's impartial lack of outrage.

But, was he talking about time travel. She'd been wrong! That was the most ludicrous thing! Slipstream even laughed. "What? Time travel? Like in Science-Fiction?" She hoped the Autobots didn't have that technology.

It was disappointing that Wing hadn't actually meant to say he'd met any Decepticons here, or other ones, at least. But, if he were suggesting time travel, for all she knew, he could be talking about some totally separate war ongoing in the future.

Slipstream gave a shrug. She'd gone from serving Starscream, pretty much by default, to thinking Megatron had to be a better leader, to realizing he wasn't. She hadn't really chosen to join a war or faction, but Megatron's goals of taking down a corrupt Autobot regime and restoring to the Decepticons their heritage, in form of Cybertron and the AllSpark, seemed just.

Yet, the best leader she knew of, weirdly, was that Autobot with the wing mods. She'd seen the news; Optimus Prime was usually helping save Detroit from something, and his bots seemed to stay in line, more or less.

"Depends what those means and ends are, doesn't it?"

The knight blinked at the intensity of Slipstream's reaction. Apparently either curiosity offended her or she had expected a different reaction from him.

"Time travel?" Wing clucked a small laugh, "No, I don't imagine so, but then I also don't know or imagine what exactly brought us here. For all I know you're talking about the future where the war has already ended." He shrugged, "Far fetched, but does such a suggestion still seem so strange when in context of all of this?" He gestured to their surroundings, and the strange fissure of light in the sky.

In truth at this point he held all his expectations in reserve. None of his formal combat training or scholarly learning had prepared him for a situation like this. Part of him shook with frustration at not knowing the outcome of the battle, if his friends, his comrades...if Drift had survived. But another part of him was on fire with curiosity and fascination with all of this...newness. His desire to explore was intense, but it felt like a betrayal of his duty.

"It does," he accepted her point, "But no social justice crusade is worth the near destruction of our homeworld. I don't disagree with Megatron's reasons for starting a revolution, but his methods...they failed us all."

"There's hardly enough data to go on, but it doesn't seem like anyone here is really from here." That whatever in the sky did bother her. She looked up, again, as she spoke, "Can't tell if that is recent and close; or old, distant and really big! Maybe someone connected a tachyon transmitter to their spacebridge and some transwarp energy...."

She threw her talons up in frustration. They needed a science bot. Despite her capability to fly in space, a lot of its phenomena were beyond her basic scientific knowledge. Maybe if they were dealing with air currents or bombs she'd have answers.

What Wing was saying was only posing more questions. She looked at him curiously, one optic-shutter wider than the other. "Something is going on. Megatron's actions haven't lived up to his speeches, but he wouldn't exactly be trying to win Cybertron back, if it were anywhere near destroyed! It's entirely safe in the grasp of the Magnus and Council."

Wasn't it?

As much as he loved the night sky, astrophysics was not Wing's strong suit. He could only shake his had and agree that they were sorely in need of information.

As unfortunate as he found Slipstream's distress to be, he had to echo the sentiment. This was altogether very, very odd with no great way to get answers. A frustrating predicament indeed.

Wing listened carefully to her comments, his expression deepening to dismayed confusion. "So as I understand it, your Cybertron is still a viable living world?" He shook his head. "This is all very strange. One of the reasons so many left Cybertron was because of the toll the war was waging on the planet. Autobots and Decepticons fought until there was nothing left, and then they took their war to other worlds and did the same. To my knowledge, Cybertron lies ravaged and desolate, stripped of all resources, scarcely capable of sustaining life."

"I--" he vented a sigh. "It's not that I question your knowledge, but none of it makes sense."

Slipstream hadn't actually been to Cybertron, ever, though she was, by merit of her creator and template - so many issues - Cybertronian. But, She knew both Autobots and Decepticons on Earth must still be in contact with Cybertron, and that there were still Elite Guard enough to spare for missions to Earth.

"Yeah, Autobots live there. They still have some ships, and the spacebridge nexus there. But, if you know about Autobots and Decepticons, then you can't be from the really distant past. Can there be more than one Cybertron? Like in one of those comics or soap opera stories where someone's evil twin shows up!" Slipstream had spent Earth-months hiding out in Detroit; she knew an unfortunate amount about Earth culture, probably more than she did things Cybertronian.

Wing's optics shuttered once or twice, trying to assimilate Slipstream's comments. Comics? Soap Operas? Evil twins?

He made a thoughtful noise, long and drawn out. "I suppose there could be more than one Cybertron? In different...universes?" It sounded ludicrous, but then so had most of the recent conversation.

"The Cybertronian civil war began out of social injustice and unrest then devolved into a power struggle between the two biggest factions, Autobot and Decepticon. It sounds like the same war but that traveled divergent paths."

He vented a soft sign. "Well, at the very least I'm glad your Cybteron is still alive and well."

So, yeah, she kinda got that her comparisons might not makes sense if one hadn't been to Earth. But she didn't know enough any better comparison. She might have been as confused by the suggestion of multiple universes, but after their talk of time travel and multiple variations of a planet, it made as much sense.

"Multiple Cybertrons...in different universes...with divergent histories." A revised working hypothesis.

"The war was similar, but more about use of certain resources, than social issues. Our current struggle, after the accord, is about our rights as Cybertronians." That was how Megatron spun it; a revolution against a corrupt and decadent regime, by freedom fighters.

Slipstream continued with a strongly bitter tone. "It's not easy to care that the planet is in awesome shape, when the only way to get there is to be taken prisoner. The Magnus doesn't even let alien, organic races land!"

"It seems absurd that such a statement would be the most sensible explanation but..." the knight shrugged as if to say, 'what else if there?' "Perhaps we'll find out more the longer we are here."

"Which, I suppose, if the most relevant issue." Not that Wing had a great idea what to do about that.

"The Magnus? Is that one of the tiers of leadership?" Wing had to balk a little, "And he's a xenophobe?"

"I suppose asking around isn't a bad strategy to begin with." She knew there were some others moving around, but not if any were native, or even longer-term visitors.

She nodded. The Magnus was one of the higher ranked Autobots. "Not just him. Can't say all Autobots feel the same, but enough do. Way it is, I doubt some of them even knew Decepticons still existed, much less wanted access to Cybertron."

Megatron probably intended to take Cybertron from the Autobots, but given they had numbers over the Decepticons, and taking the planet would definitely be hypocritical, given Megatron's rhetoric about being the ones wronged, Slipstream thought the better strategy would be to share their homeworld. Not that she mentioned this to her faction, but it truly seemed to most efficient strategy to her.

"I agree. We definitely need more information. Doing more scouting and then sharing our findings is likely a good idea. Should we keep moving? Strength in numbers or cover more territory individually? Both have merits."

Slipstream's descriptions of the factions in her...universe were strangely fascinating. It seemed like both the start and the path of the war had taken a different turns. The two factions seemed to be the biggest thing the two histories had in common. Was the Cybertronian race predisposed to these lines being drawn in its populace? It was a mildly unsettling thought.

"It sounds as if, even if your faction does not fair well, overall your universe is better off." It's plainly stated with no favoritism. "In my universe the Cybertronian race as a whole is generally unwelcome and even hated by other species because the war spread so liberally and destroyed so much."

Slipstream considered the suggestion, trying her best to weight the pros and cons, as they were. She needed every advantage she could get; allies, not enemies. "Sharing findings only seems wise. And we could cover more territory apart."

She wanted information, but more she wanted to restore her flight function.

"Maybe it's true. But, right now, does it matter what's going on in Universe A or B, when we're in Universe C?"

As Decepticons went, Slipstream was refreshingly equitable. "You're right, the events of Universe A or B do not have bearing on the here and now," he paused, "save trying to prevent Universe C from falling to the same fate."

Wings nods in agreement. "Shall we rendezvous back at these coordinates in two hours time then?" He smiles. "Last chance if you want to see to that thruster."

"Sure." She wasn't all that concerned about 'Universe C', except that she presently was in it. She assumed someone would find a way to leave. They probably just needed some fancy space bridge.

Slipstream returned a slight smile. Teamwork worked so well for Autobots, she may as well give it a try. If it failed, she'd try something else. "Two hours. Don't worry about my thruster."

That was for her to worry, and hopefully solve with proper tools in private.

"It's decided then." He nods, happy to have a course direction, however vague, in this uncertain situation.

He started off in the direction he'd been headed originally and left with a nod and a few parting words. "Happy Hunting."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPENING LOG: Awakening

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Of course, the First Forged are likely to arrive before the 2 hours is up.

Little do they know

This was fun! :D