skidaddle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skidaddle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.
~~~
All I'm saying to myself right now is 'track the post, geniusfais.'
"Skids?" He walks in a slow circle, optics scanning the horizon. "Barricade. You getting anything?"
I need to do that too oops
"Nothing so far." He gives up on those sensors and resorts to sniffing. Olfactory sensors were kind of old-fashioned, admittedly, but they did the trick for him once or twice. "Yeah, I got the odor of junk. And... something else." Not willing to call it Skids because something is off about it. But someone like him came through the area.
From now on 'Barricade' shall be known as 'post tracker'
Distant.
And suddenly growing very, very close.
He erupts from the pile he was hiding behind, debris scattering in every direction in a confusing array of junk and tentacles and rust. It's him--there's no mistake about that in the blue, peeling paint or the helm-plates--but it isn't what he used to be. The unhinged jaw is a good hint.
The whip-like cable reaching out to snag Drift's foot is more telling.
It hisses, long, low, and gurgling, and somewhere amidst all the crackling of a broken vocalizer his communicator translates:
"Hunnnnggrrrrrrryyyyy...."
Actually apparently now he is KittyCade
He doesn't fail at the stabbing part, at least. You don't survive the gutters and a war without having the reflexes of a cat on methamphetamine.
So when the ground erupts from behind his left shoulder, he leaps out of the way--or almost out of the way. The cable grabs his wrist just as he realizes that the attacker isn't a sparkeater--it's Skids.
He reverses his blade, the driving the back, unhoned and dull, into the tentacle.
Barrikitty is the most fearsome opponent of all
Has to take a back burner to the situation, though. Cables... he hates cables. But he's not exactly going to outright harm Skids... UnSkids... until he figures out exactly what it is.
He uncoils the chain of one flail, letting the tire with the blades still closed inside hit the ground. Once he gets a hold of the chain, he gives it a swing towards Skids. Without the blades it won't do any real damage, but it will probably leave one huge rubber-burn behind.
He utters the great meow of doom
What he isn't expecting is the pain. The tentacle that's caught its pray suddenly feels as if it's on fire, and uncoiling it from the target doesn't help. He still has plenty of others, at least, which he moves to close back in on Drift...
At least, until they're intercepted by the chain of Barricade's flail.
His immediate satiation denied, he howls in rage. "Just stay still," the communicator screeches in a voice that only has the echoes of Skid's vocals in it. "I need this...!"
And fortune has given him a chance. With his tentacles encountering Barricade's chain he grips it tightly, whipping them forward to yank on the chain--and possibly throw Barricade into Drift, if he keeps hold.
as usual if I misread what Skids did poke me and I'll retag
Which meant maybe Skids was still in there...somewhere.
He staggers as the injured tentacle snaps back away from him, holding his reversed blade in front of him but not attacking.. Yet.
"Skids. You don't need this. You need help."
no subject
"I am not going to hold still fo-aack!"
He is not expecting to end up thrown at Drift by his own flail.
no subject
"I am starving." It is half-way a hiss, and half-way a desperate wail, every instinct pouring need through him with two bring sparks so nearby. "Could...just chew....a little..."
Unable to hold off any longer, he floats towards the pair, the tips of his feet dragging over the ground as his tentacles coil around him.
"Trust?"
It is a trap. He can do this.
no subject
He dodges, instinctively, from Barricade's direction, just in case, but straightens, holding out a hand.
"Skids. Listen. We can get you help. No one wants you to starve."
It's not a trap, at least to Drift.
no subject
... Chew a little?
That is not right at all. He pulls himself up to his feet. "Drift. That's not Skids. Not right now."
That's a monster with Skids face, and that's something Barricade can recognize now, at least. "No one chews 'just a little'. Not when they're hungry." Sorry Skids, but he's got to rotate out a rifle and aim it directly at center mass. First move towards either of them and he's firing and then running.
no subject
"I need sparkss..."
When the rifle comes out, he stops, his attention turning to Barricade, assessing him, aware that he'd not be so easily fooled. "You can get these for me?"
He floats in place, waiting to hear, enough of him present to hold off...
...but not enough of him present to turn his sights back towards Drift. Of the two, this one was the more likely to get close. He was not fleeing--he was just standing there, trying to reason. So open. So trusting.
So hopeful.
Skids zeroed in on his spark, and beckoned. Come closer. Come to him, spark.
Come.
no subject
"Come on, Skids. Let's go to Solus's temple. Someone can have a look at you. And we can find you, uh, something to eat."
Not sparks. Drift has no desire to watch someone vomit their own brains, okay?
no subject
"If all he wants is sparks, I don't know that anyone'll volunteer. Even I'm a bit attached to mine," he mutters under his breath.
But something here is definitely wrong. He's seen things like this before, just... not quite like this. Barricade narrows his optics at Skids.
"Drift, I don't think any of us can fix this right now. This is going to take something strong."
Like a miracle.