skidaddle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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re_alignment_logs2013-03-12 09:37 pm
skidaddle) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-03-12 09:37 pm
Dinner Time
Who: Skids and YOU!
What: Sparkeater Skids is roaming the Haven, looking for delicious robots whose souls he can eat.
Where: EVERYWHERE MWAHAHAHAHAH.
When: For a few days before and after this post.
Notes:
Skids is a Sparkeater, and as such is ravenous for the life energy that powers Cybertronians. Most robots that aren't Cybertronian are safe, but if you think your robot has anything close to a spark I'm more than willing to fudge it and have him try to give it a bite.
How does this work?
In canon, the humanoid sparkeater seems to have some method of coaxing a transformer's processor out of their head, which effectively locks them up and releases their spark, so to speak. He then eats it. However, there are other sparkeating turbofoxes which don't have so complicated a ritual and seem to be capable of just getting a spark chamber open and giving it a nom. I'm cool with whatever, so if you'd like your character to go through some spark-chewing trauma but survive intact, just note that when you post!
Skids is still Skids, just species swapped. Therefore, it still looks like him but with a lot more rust, randomly missing panels, and tentacles. Glorious, H.R. Giger tentacles. He's still himself in there, so if you're organic it will be possible to talk to him and even reason with him. If you've got a spark, though, his hunger will overpower his reason and he'll go after it. However, unless you note that you want your spark chewed (or eaten! I'm game for some good old death) then I'll let your character find a way to escape unscathed, possibly via comedic pratfall.
Questions? Just ask on plurk or send me a PM~
~~~
Everything had been hazy, since his race with Blurr. He'd been out setting up some new courses for Shepard to try her driving on and had seen the blue car zipping by. It had sparked an idea in his head.
Somehow, that idea had sparked something else.
His casual desire to chase after the racecar had turned into an intense desire to chase after the racecar, and he'd found new speed welling from within. He'd been able to keep up.
He'd been able to catch up.
He'd been ready to do so much more.
Blurr had been saved from his intense hunger, however, and when Skids tried to think how that had happened his mind became fuzzy. One moment there had been Blurr, and the next moment there wasn't. When there was no more Blurr, his need had shifted, and he'd...smelled?...something else. Something new.
Starving, he'd chased after it, only to be thwarted again. And again. And again.
Everything, now, was chasing, seeking some indefinable satiation that could quell the hunger driving him on. He'd contacted friends. He'd wanted to see them.
He'd wanted to rip them open and feast on their insides. That was simple.
It was everything else that was complex.
~~~
What: Sparkeater Skids is roaming the Haven, looking for delicious robots whose souls he can eat.
Where: EVERYWHERE MWAHAHAHAHAH.
When: For a few days before and after this post.
Notes:
Skids is a Sparkeater, and as such is ravenous for the life energy that powers Cybertronians. Most robots that aren't Cybertronian are safe, but if you think your robot has anything close to a spark I'm more than willing to fudge it and have him try to give it a bite.
How does this work?
In canon, the humanoid sparkeater seems to have some method of coaxing a transformer's processor out of their head, which effectively locks them up and releases their spark, so to speak. He then eats it. However, there are other sparkeating turbofoxes which don't have so complicated a ritual and seem to be capable of just getting a spark chamber open and giving it a nom. I'm cool with whatever, so if you'd like your character to go through some spark-chewing trauma but survive intact, just note that when you post!
Skids is still Skids, just species swapped. Therefore, it still looks like him but with a lot more rust, randomly missing panels, and tentacles. Glorious, H.R. Giger tentacles. He's still himself in there, so if you're organic it will be possible to talk to him and even reason with him. If you've got a spark, though, his hunger will overpower his reason and he'll go after it. However, unless you note that you want your spark chewed (or eaten! I'm game for some good old death) then I'll let your character find a way to escape unscathed, possibly via comedic pratfall.
Questions? Just ask on plurk or send me a PM~
~~~
Everything had been hazy, since his race with Blurr. He'd been out setting up some new courses for Shepard to try her driving on and had seen the blue car zipping by. It had sparked an idea in his head.
Somehow, that idea had sparked something else.
His casual desire to chase after the racecar had turned into an intense desire to chase after the racecar, and he'd found new speed welling from within. He'd been able to keep up.
He'd been able to catch up.
He'd been ready to do so much more.
Blurr had been saved from his intense hunger, however, and when Skids tried to think how that had happened his mind became fuzzy. One moment there had been Blurr, and the next moment there wasn't. When there was no more Blurr, his need had shifted, and he'd...smelled?...something else. Something new.
Starving, he'd chased after it, only to be thwarted again. And again. And again.
Everything, now, was chasing, seeking some indefinable satiation that could quell the hunger driving him on. He'd contacted friends. He'd wanted to see them.
He'd wanted to rip them open and feast on their insides. That was simple.
It was everything else that was complex.
~~~
no subject
He'd been trying and coming up empty every time, to the point where he had found a small, soft pile to curl up in and wait. Half in recharge, half in readiness, he'd dozed in and out of consciousness, hoping for a spark to venture near.
It had.
It had ventured very, very near.
This time, he'd stayed hidden. Every other time, the moment he'd pounced something had gone wrong and the spark had vanished. Now?
Now, the creature uncovers him, and he smirks up at Skywarp.
Those might be tentacles coming for you now.
no subject
"The frag are you..." Well, Whirl had said what. Kind of, he supposed. Yanking on the arm caught, his hand slid back to let the gun mounted in his wrist pop up, Skywarp, while surprised, didn't feel overly threatened yet.
Yet.
In the background, coordinates were being spat out in tip-toe readiness.
no subject
He knew he was missing a step. With a target this close, there was something he was supposed to be doing...some way to eject the spark.
He didn't know what it was.
This meant he'd have to go in manually, which was useful in this particular case--Skywarp had a cockpit.
"Got you," he hissed through a hopelessly broken vocalizer, and did not notice when his communicator translated it.
Neither did he notice the gun pointed towards him.
no subject
"... Skids, huh. Augh--!" And then other tentacles came into play and Skywarp stumbled back, probably pulling the smaller mech with him out of the pile of scrap in the process, swearing and letting off a few shots from the gun in startlement.
The fact that the hiss was translated was sort of creepy, too.
no subject
He couldn't stop now. He couldn't.
His claws reached out, slicing at Skywarp's cockpit, the shots from Skywarp's gun hitting him head on and dislodging rusting metal but not stopping him in the least.
He was too driven.
"Mine," he whispered, a sound that was again translated. "It will be mine."
He did not know how to get to the spark, but he knew he could coax it by instinct. Come to him, little spark. Come.
no subject
But this?
Unfamiliar situation, unfamiliar enemy and suddenly the feeling of his spark, dispersed as it was through his frame, start to withdraw to his spark chamber, without any lethal injury done or his say-so?
His engine stalled, surprise, shock and a creeping sense of unsettledness for a moment overriding the alarms and warnings---
And then he simply disappeared.
"WHAT THE FRAG!?"
Luckily for Skids' potential meal and to Skywarp's misfortune, he appeared just a few feet behind and to the left of his previous position in a humming, purple fade-in.
And rather processor-stalled still as he stared at Skids, rubbing the deep slices cut in his cockpit.
no subject
The howl of rage from him was palpable in the air--
Until he caught the scent again.
It was close.
It hadn't vanished.
Whirling, his dead optics flashed.
"Will eat your spark," he promised, and flew straight at Skywarp, teeth first.
no subject
The garbled threath/promise snapped Skywarp out of his static-fuzzy stall and he scrambled a step back, one foot jerked up... thruster lit. Either Skids would get a huge foot to the chest/faceplates, or fire in the same location, unless he dodged.
Because shocked or not, his processor was catching up.
"Crazy freak---" Oh, he was somewhat aware this was probably not Skids' natural state of being, but right now that hardly mattered.
no subject
His chest buckled, bone-like protrusions snapping with the sudden interruption of his momentum.
He howled.
He couldn't help but howl, in agony.
However, he didn't stop. Even with rusted metal bending and paint chipping underneath the heat of the thruster, all four tentacles still shot out towards Skywarp.
"No escape."
Not this time.
no subject
He needed space.
One tentacle wrapped around his arm, and then the other and frag this---
"Oh yeah?" Skywarp grimaced, ignored when the last two got a grip as well and opened a portal. Behind Skids.
"Could say the same for you," hissed Skywarp and then literally threw himself at Skids, pushing them both through the portal. Had he not been attached to the changed cybertronian, he'd probably have chosen the other end to dump them above a lava or energon stream or lake or something.
Since he was, he chose something a little less lethal to him, but Skids ought to be shocked enough.
The lake.
And since Skids had a many more tons heavier Seeker on top of him, even if Skywarp was feeling that tugging on his dispersed spark again, there was no way they wouldn't hit the water.