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

Gunmax?

That...

Was good. It was actually very good. The motorcycle-riding detective could be brash and hot-headed and overly confident, but he also tended to have a high success rate and better planning than it seemed he had.

He could also take this situation seriously, as evidenced by the first question he asked.

"Garbage, actually."

Glancing around, he looked for a better point of reference. Everything was garbage.

"Strange garbage, half of which doesn't seem worth throwing away. There appears to be a bathtub on top of this peak."

He looked off, peering at the furthest hill that he could see and zooming in, spotting movement. "We're not alone. Gunmax, I..."

McCrane frowned, feeling awkward saying this.

"I do not remember how I got here. Can you update me on our status?"

Damn. Gunmax slings his leg over his motorcycle, getting her started.

"Sounds like we can't be far from each other. I'll try to trace you down."

The biker pauses at McCrane's words. Not alone, but it doesn't sound like they're near the others. So who is McCrane referring to? Humans? Probably.

"Sorry; my memory's drawing a blank. I'm not sure if it's missing data or what happened, but I can't actually remember anything..." Gunmax trails off.

"McCrane, is there anything on your arm? Anything glowing."

"I'll try to make myself more...visible." Holding his shotgun aloft, McCrane took careful aim, compensating the the arc in trajectory, and shot toward what appeared to be a pile of broken steel doors.

He says nothing for a long moment, and then shoots again.

If Gunmax also does not know how they came to arrive, then there are even more unnerving possibilities. Could this be a simulation? A dream? Or could they really be stranded alone on an Alien planet?

If they are here, who else might also be? The people he is seeing do not seem familiar at all. In fact...they seem like other robots.

He raises his gun for a third shot, before Gunmax's question catches him off-guard, and he glances down.

Sure enough, there it is, just as described. Glowing.

"I am going to assume you have one of these, also. A foreign mark--white?" Lowering his weapon, he looks up toward the stars, watching the strange streak of the lambda for a moment.

If this is a real planet...they're going to have to fly back. Only one of them currently had that ability. "Gunmax. How are your fuel levels?"

The shotgun belonging to McCrane is easily heard and very familiar. That'll do for a way of bringing attention to oneself. Gunmax snorts in amusement before he takes off after the noise.

"Yeah, I have the mark, too. Doesn't look like any symbol in my data tracks. Not that they're as extensive as, say, Duke's... but they don't match anything I have. I'm inclined to say alien, considering where we are. We're not even on Earth."

The stars in the sky tell him that they're totally displaced. No constellations that are recognizable.

Fuel levels? He pauses. "About midway. I have a couple of canisters with me." Rarely does he leave HQ without one. "How about you?"

He's getting closer, he thinks, still heading in McCrane's direction.

"No, this isn't Earth," McCrane agrees, watching the pile of doors that he was shooting as it toppled down harmlessly, making a big enough racket that, he hopes, Gunmax will be able to follow.

"And it feels real." His slugs still projected at the same rate. Admittedly, all that told him was that this planet had a gravity comparable to Earth, but it did 'feel' more real, because of it. "And there are other robots here."

They seemed to be moving around on their own accord. He was sure of that much, despite the distance. Of course, they could have been remotely controlled, but it didn't seem that way.

"Just one canister. I don't believe that we'll have enough to make it back to Earth." Especially because he couldn't tell, at all, where Earth was in the heavens. It couldn't have been nearby--not with that scar so bright in the sky. "Have you been able to contact anyone else?"

He felt slightly ashamed that he hadn't seen his badge sooner, to be able to try.

The biker almost pauses when he sees the other robots. What in the hell--? They don't quite look like BP models, but that doesn't exclude the possibility. What's even going on here? Were they abducted? For what?

Too many questions. He'll worry about answering them later. Finding McCrane is definitely more important.

At the final clang, Gunmax speeds up and finally sees him. Much better.

He drives off a pile of junk, making a small hop over a ravine in order to cut down on some time.

"Nope. No one else has answered other than you."

Finally, Gunmax slows down in order to see McCrane face to face. He doesn't put Gunbike into park, not yet.

"Not enough fuel to get home -- not that I'd have any idea which direction to go in anyway. No contact with anyone else, either. And there are bunch of robots here with us." Gunmax shrugs. "I gotta say, out of all the situatons we've been in, this is one of the weirder ones."

The distant sound of Gunmax's gunbike is more than a little relieving. It isn't as if McCrane didn't expect him to arrive, so much as it is just nice to know he's real, too, and not just a voice over his communication's badge.

Standing perfectly still, McCrane follows the thrum of the engine--watching as the bike appears, ramping, reflecting the light off of some distant sun as it sails over the ravine and back onto more garbage. It's good driving.

It's also showy.

His expression doesn't change, though, as finally Gunmax is close enough for McCrane to hook the communicator back onto it's place at his side. "It is, as you would say, 'Unbelievable.'"

He finally offers the slightest smile.

"Though I can't imagine why it is just us. If we are being kidnapped...wouldn't it make more sense to bring everyone?"

"Heh." Gunmax allows a small grin in return; he leans forward a little bit then inclines with his head. "I know you can change into your crane self, but it might be faster on Gunbike if you wanna hop on."

It wouldn't be bad to do some recon, he figures.

"I thought that too." Gunmax pauses, glancing at the glowing symbol on McCrane. It doesn't... match his. What does that mean? For all he means, the symbols could mean stupid and wannabe pacifist. "But then again, it's not like I get any of the logic of being here. And a lot of the junk here doesn't look like it ought to be thrown away, does it?"

He shrugs. "The whole thing's weird. We're better off trying to find out who brought us here, and if they can take us back."

"It would conserve fuel, at least." Given what he's seen, there is likely more gasoline within the heaping mounds somewhere, but finding it could easily become a problem.

If they had to remain for longer than a few weeks, or if they had to do excessive driving, they were going to be in trouble. He made a mental note to keep a watch for that, and carefully approached, eyeing the bike warily. Transforming to drive around was one thing.

Riding on something else was very different.

Especially something underneath someone else's control. "Junk might not be the word for it, then. It seems more...discarded." Which...brought him to a more horrifying thought. "Or lost." Or thrown out. They could not have been thrown out, could they? He definitely does not desire to think on that point further. It doesn't seem likely, and it is uncomfortable.

When Gunmax looks at the mark on his arm, though, he can't help but notice what the other is seeing--the differences. And, glancing around, it is apparent that the 'garbage' does not possess any quantifying marks. Some of the other robots he can see, however...do.

"We should look for someone without a mark." He muses, out loud, and, trying not to be awkward about it, he gets on the gunbike behind its owner. "If we find other sites worth investigating, we can split up." There was a lot of ground to cover, which meant having two of them was going to be useful. "It is...possible that being brought here was an accident, but I don't think it was." They wouldn't have been marked, otherwise.

"I just can't imagine what they want."

Trying to draw parallels between himself and Gunmax was difficult enough. Trying to imagine why there were humans and other robots here?

It did not bode well.

Once McCrane settles on behind him, Gunmax takes off. A shy bit slower than usual; he remembers the subtle discomfort Deckerd had on the bike when the patrol car had been gutsy enough to cuff them together. He's pretty sure a slower paced construction vehicle might not react well to a faster, unrestrained bike.

"Discarded or lost," he muses. McCrane certainly doesn't fail to take a turn for the poetic. But he's not necessarily wrong, Gunmax thinks. "Good point. I'll keep an eye out."

An accident. He snorts. "I don't think so, either. I think we were branded, personally. The symbols mean something. And I don't know about you, but I don't like a decal being done without my authorization."

The movement is disorienting, at first, and the hands that had been awkwardly trying to find a place to rest unashamedly gripped onto Gunmax's waist, his shotgun wedged at an angle between them. It was convenient, after all, to have a motorcycle built to transport more than one robot at a time. His own discomfort was not allowed to get in the way of that.

Nevertheless, he appreciated the slower pace. It let him keep an eye out as they rode.

For something.

For anything.

"It isn't like maintenance," he agreed, after a moment of thinking on what comparable 'not-necessarily-consenting' things had been done to them in the past. "It seems more insidious than that." His gaze broke from the piles of junk to inspect Gunmax's black-colored mark. "Though it does make you look different. A little rebellious, perhaps."

Considering something he hadn't thought on a moment before, he reached up to try to rub the mark off of the other's shoulder.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't work.

"If we have a brand, there is a point to it. Tracking, likely. And if we were offline long enough for them to brand us..."

There might have been other things they'd done. McCrane quietly ran his basic diagnostics program, wishing they had the Brave Police's engineers to do a more thorough scan. The idea of being tampered with didn't settle well with him, harmless or not.

The location of the hands don't particularly bother him. After all, where else is the other detective going to hold onto? He settles all right with the extra weight, focusing on where to drive right now.

"C'mon! I didn't already look rebellious?" Gunmax muses humorously. But he does see McCrane's point. The black coloration does give the implication, doesn't it?

Tracking brand. Maybe. How long they were offline -- who knows. More the question, how. He can't even remember anything unfortunate happening.

It's like they just ended up here.

"We're gonna need an engineer." Gunmax meets that train of thought. "Although without Toudou here, I dunno how comfortable it's gonna be having some stranger take a look at us. Might not have a choice."

"You look like a robotic police officer." His small smile returned, his version of a joke. It was fascinating, in some ways, how they had all turned out so differently despite their similar origin...

...because for all that Gunmax looked the picture of responsibility, there were plenty of unspoken rules he seemed to break.

Never the harmful ones, thankfully. Never the illegal ones, either.

"You'll have to be more careful with your bike..." he murmured, all-too-aware that, without an engineer, their first altercation could leave Gunmax without transportation. Having to run everywhere did not seem like a pleasant prospect.

Nor did having to tow Gunmax over garbage.

"However, there might not be anyone with the knowledge we need." Maybe the point of being dumped here was having to learn survival.

...on their own.

Without humans to teach them, or learn with them.

"We may be in serious trouble."

"Fancy that. Couldn't have been because I was designed that way!" There's a quiet laugh in return; he follows, but Gunmax is more than glad to come off as a bit more reckless. That rebel self image he has is an enjoyable one.

The notation that McCrane makes is... true. He will have to be more careful. Not that he wouldn't be; Toudou did show him to be a lot more careful with Gunbike. Unconsciously, he rubs his thumb over the handle bar; she's the longest partner he's had. He'll be good to her.

"I guess if we get into a fight, I'll try to avoid using my armor. No offense, but I'm not looking to ride your back anytime soon." Now that would be awkward.

"I can get by, but if we get scraped up too bad -- you have a point. Even if we did know how to fix ourselves, we don't have the tools. I was sort of hoping we wouldn't be here that long to worry about that, but I guess we need a longterm plan."

"It is a nice design," he comments, simply, because it is true. Looking like a police officer when you are a police officer is handy, and there is something...sleek...about the motorcycle detective. He has no extraneous bits, no parts that need to transform into other parts. He simply is.

It's very human, in a way.

It's very human, just like the motion that Gunmax makes with his thumb over the handlebar--a very different motion than McCrane is used to seeing between the two. Gunmax had been more reckless than that, hadn't he?

But perhaps it is the dire circumstances they are in. They're going to need every last resource that they have, if they're going to get back.

He hopes the boss won't worry.

He hopes Seia won't, either.

They'll be home soon.

Gunmax's suggestion catches him off guard, however, and he makes a surprised sound from the back of his throat. "N...no. I would probably use my cable, first."

Or he could carry him, or....whatever was necessary. Perhaps riding on his back would be the most efficient, but with Gunmax, that seemed strange. Gunmax was used to riding. McCrane felt as if he'd been suddenly self-conscious of every bump along the way, if someone like that were on him.

"Its strange," he noted, instead, jumping onto the next subject eagerly, "To be this far from home." Having to consider how dependent they were was not much more comfortable than having to consider towing Gunmax, but it was a subject he'd at least thought on before. They hadn't been built to survive on their own. "However, I did see one human. Earlier. It might be possible that the rest of our team is here, but out of range." He glanced onward, wondering how far this junkyard extended.

"We should cover some distance and try to contact them again."

That's not really something he was expecting to hear out of McCrane. He glances over his shoulder, antenna flicking up in surprise. "Ah-- hm." Usually, he's used to more irriated comments, but something positive just catches him off guard. He should probably thank him.

Instead, he stays quiet, as if embarrassed.

"Hopefully, we won't get to that point, then," he comments about the riding aspect. It'd certainly be less than sleek.

A human, here? So does that mean there's oxygen? He hadn't been worried about such a thing, but now if there's people, that's different. Gunmax scowls behind his visor. "You don't think that maybe Boss is here, too, do you?"

If Yuuta is here... that brings up something nervous sparking across his Super A.I.

McCrane says nothing more about appearances, or about who will be riding on what. It is unusual enough to be alone with Gunmax, instead of alone with the rest of Build Team. Already, it feels strange to know that, even should a command come through his badge, he won't be able to transform into Build Tiger.

But everything is strange.

"Part of me wants that." If Yuuta is there, then it's possible that everyone is there, somewhere. Perhaps the others have also lost their memories. Perhaps it is only he and Gunmax. "The Brave Police have always been able to accomplish more, together."

He can hear the frown, however, even from back here...

...and he understands it. This environment seems harsh, and dangerous. He wouldn't want Yuuta to be here, unless Yuuta desired it, and...

It did not seem likely that anyone here desired this.

"It is still worth a try."

"Believe me, I know what you mean." On one hand? Without Yuuta or Deckerd, his Max Cannon is going to be useless here. Powerful as it is, without J-Decker, they're not going to get far.

So hopefully they're not going to meet with any nasty opponents.

Still, at the same time, as long as they're where they belong in Nanamagari, it's for the best. McCrane out of the equation for them means no Super Build Tiger, but maybe they can manage. Hard to say.

"Right, right. Hmm, I'm not up for splitting up, but I think after we go over the terrain a bit, we might want to try chatting it up with the locals a bit. Not that I think they're going to be any more native than us."

It helped, somehow, that Gunmax understood.

They had been in much, much worse situations, but they'd never been in one so remote, or so foreign. He'd never seen a sky like this, before. He'd never, really, been without Build Team.

The fact that Gunmax shared both his predicament and his indecision about finding the others was more than a little comforting, and McCrane appreciated the companionship even as he agreed about the need to split up to investigate.

Their SUPER AI had been virtually created by a relationshipship, after all. It was no surprise that it worked better when there were more of them around.

"After we make the first pass, let's try communicating again. If that does not work, we can split our efforts in order to gather more information." As long as the badges worked, they'd be able to keep in touch if anything went wrong.

((We can wrap this up if you'd like~))

"Sounds like a plan, then. Let me know where you need a drop off, all right?"

Either way, this isn't a simple scenario. Whether the others are here or not, either way they also need to eventually focus on a way back to Nanamagari. Which, that'll be the real trick, depending on how they got here.

It's going to be a very interesting case to try to solve.

"I will."

He wanted to talk to some of the other robots, he was certain. If they could find some common traits among them, then those might be the key to how they'd gotten there, or what they were supposed to do, now. Anything could help.

For the time being, though, he was simply content to ride behind Gunmax, glad for the familiar face in the midst of such chaos, and pleased to have a working plan.

They could solve this, he knew.

He just hoped that they could solve it quickly, and go home.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPENING LOG: Awakening

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Dead laughing at the symbol translations, BTW

just as planned B)

ggg -- you have an icon of that!

oh you bet i do

and here's where my earlier pull-point comes into play...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject