re_alignedmods: (pic#3635967)
Re/Aligned Mods ([personal profile] re_alignedmods) wrote in [community profile] re_alignment_logs2012-06-21 04:54 pm

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.))
winged_knight: (serious: concerned)

[personal profile] winged_knight 2012-07-22 01:01 am (UTC)(link)
"...to house its god?" Wing repeats, more to fully grasp the concept than to question its validity. "You mean...Primus?"

His gaze is distant as he stands quietly and feels the weight of it, a solemn gravity that settles around them as context begins to illuminate the bigger picture of what thus far had been an awkward and confusing puzzle. A quiver runs through his EM field as he tries to grasp the depth of portent, strange prickles spreading over his frame.

When he snaps back to focus Wing turns to the Prime and asks simply, "What can I do?"
vectorianpolarity: (Default)

[personal profile] vectorianpolarity 2012-08-06 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course."

There was only one god that the Cybertronians would ever have as their own. Primus in all his glory, and until such a time as Cybertron was prepared for his arrival...

And it pleased Vector to no small end to see that Wing was willing to assist.

"Help us cleanse this world, Wing. There are beasts who lurk within its shadows, who would poison Primus' vessel - and even for those who cannot fight, there is construction to be done. For once Primus arrives, so shall more of his children, and they will need a foundation upon which to stand. I can think of no better to construct that foundation, than one who knows exactly what will be needed."

That would be you.
winged_knight: (optics close-up)

[personal profile] winged_knight 2012-08-07 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
He's quiet for a time, thoughts rolling around in his processor, not in the way of a scientist, with the logic or theories and extrapolations, but like a theologian, marrying symbolism with concepts and philosophizing ideas.

"So this it...the Beginning? Of our world, everything?" He's trying to absorb it all; it's a big to take in all at once.

"Yes. I will. However my skills and knowledge can be applied, then let it be so. I am at your service." Wing is fervent, animated now. So many, many centuries spent protecting, preserving, all passively underground. To finally get the opportunity to be proactive in those goals, and not just preserving the remnants but aiding in the creation of something new...he was starting to feel, more and more, that he was exactly where he needed to be.