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re_alignment_logs2013-07-02 08:13 pm
fugitrix) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-07-02 08:13 pm
[ open ]
WHO: Arcee & anyone
WHERE: Mostly Leige's place, but she's going to be checking other places. Please note where they're at!
WHEN: Over the week
WHAT: Arcee scouting around, clinging to buildings, invading ceilings and vents, perching on roofs, and generally spying on people and being awkward.
WARNINGS: None currently?
[ 01. Leige's Temple ]
So this was Cybertron. Not her Cybertron, but a fresh, new one. Barely touched, not like their reformatted home. Arcee had listened to the drone because she had recognized for what it was, because she had little other choice but to listen if she wanted answers. But every answer just lead to more questions. Who were these Thirteen and what did this Leige want with her?
The branding she'd cut into her shoulder still hurt, but it was the other brand she picked at. If there was one thing that Cybertron had taught her, is that she had to fight to belong; it didn't come easy, and when it did, it generally it was never under favorable circumstances. She didn't trust easy, had no reason to trust Leige. Better to gain the advantage first before sticking out her neck. Times like this, she missed the simplicity of hunting Jhiaxus and the driving rage.
Leige's territory was cold outside of the tower. Much colder than she was used to on Cybertron; more cold like the brush of the Dead Universe. Her plating was tucked seamless against her frame, trapping in heat as she scaled the outside of the tower. What heat her plating let escape, the cloth she had covered herself in took care of the rest. A high point allowed her to get a better look at the area, get a better bearing of the territory. She needed to know her knew stomping grounds.
It was always easier to come into private places from the outside; nobody usually expected break-ins this high up. It wasn't just for fun. Arcee tried windows, crawled into vents, and slipped into rooms to sort through and read whatever information she could find. She tucked away items that looked dangerous, important, valuable. Whatever she could use.
[ooc: Arcee's p good at this. She probably won't be seen looking through junk unless she wants to be seen, but I'm k with working things out. ]
----
[ 02. Junk Pile ]
It was hard to miss the large pile of junk and debris in the middle of the Haven. The first time Arcee laid eyes upon it, she briefly wondered how it got so big. The population didn't seem large enough to produce that much waste-- it was like it all fell from the sky like she did, although she couldn't see anything dropping. She'd never say she wasn't a curious mech.
It took some picking through, but the pile of junk held some interesting finds. If she picked around long enough, sometimes she'd find something mostly undamaged and completely alien to her. She tugs down the cloth mask she wore, hunching over some tiny machine, trying to figure out the purpose of it. She pushes down the lever, her thick winglets tensing at the following series of clicks. When it dings roughly a minute later, her automatic reaction was to slam a hand down on it, crunching it beneath her palm.
Ah, well. How was she supposed to know it wasn't dangerous?
She vents, rolling her shoulders and scowls down at the broken machine. She still didn't really get the point of it. She pushes it aside, then starts sorting through the junk again.
WHERE: Mostly Leige's place, but she's going to be checking other places. Please note where they're at!
WHEN: Over the week
WHAT: Arcee scouting around, clinging to buildings, invading ceilings and vents, perching on roofs, and generally spying on people and being awkward.
WARNINGS: None currently?
[ 01. Leige's Temple ]
So this was Cybertron. Not her Cybertron, but a fresh, new one. Barely touched, not like their reformatted home. Arcee had listened to the drone because she had recognized for what it was, because she had little other choice but to listen if she wanted answers. But every answer just lead to more questions. Who were these Thirteen and what did this Leige want with her?
The branding she'd cut into her shoulder still hurt, but it was the other brand she picked at. If there was one thing that Cybertron had taught her, is that she had to fight to belong; it didn't come easy, and when it did, it generally it was never under favorable circumstances. She didn't trust easy, had no reason to trust Leige. Better to gain the advantage first before sticking out her neck. Times like this, she missed the simplicity of hunting Jhiaxus and the driving rage.
Leige's territory was cold outside of the tower. Much colder than she was used to on Cybertron; more cold like the brush of the Dead Universe. Her plating was tucked seamless against her frame, trapping in heat as she scaled the outside of the tower. What heat her plating let escape, the cloth she had covered herself in took care of the rest. A high point allowed her to get a better look at the area, get a better bearing of the territory. She needed to know her knew stomping grounds.
It was always easier to come into private places from the outside; nobody usually expected break-ins this high up. It wasn't just for fun. Arcee tried windows, crawled into vents, and slipped into rooms to sort through and read whatever information she could find. She tucked away items that looked dangerous, important, valuable. Whatever she could use.
[ooc: Arcee's p good at this. She probably won't be seen looking through junk unless she wants to be seen, but I'm k with working things out. ]
----
[ 02. Junk Pile ]
It was hard to miss the large pile of junk and debris in the middle of the Haven. The first time Arcee laid eyes upon it, she briefly wondered how it got so big. The population didn't seem large enough to produce that much waste-- it was like it all fell from the sky like she did, although she couldn't see anything dropping. She'd never say she wasn't a curious mech.
It took some picking through, but the pile of junk held some interesting finds. If she picked around long enough, sometimes she'd find something mostly undamaged and completely alien to her. She tugs down the cloth mask she wore, hunching over some tiny machine, trying to figure out the purpose of it. She pushes down the lever, her thick winglets tensing at the following series of clicks. When it dings roughly a minute later, her automatic reaction was to slam a hand down on it, crunching it beneath her palm.
Ah, well. How was she supposed to know it wasn't dangerous?
She vents, rolling her shoulders and scowls down at the broken machine. She still didn't really get the point of it. She pushes it aside, then starts sorting through the junk again.
no subject
But she climbs, perches, and reaches behead her back for the hilt of one of her blades.
"How long have you known I was following, Prowl?"
no subject
He'd been able to deduce someone had been tailing him, but he never expected...
"Arcee?"
What were the odds?
no subject
"So you do remember me."
She hums from her perch, letting her hand drop from its battle ready position.
"You look like you're up to no good."
no subject
"Liege Maximo enjoys his mazes.", he explains with some irritation, his optics drifting into the direction he had been going in earlier. As much as he detested having to work with the Firstforged, he made an exception for the sake of effectiveness.
"How long have you been here?" He continues down the path, expecting her to follow. Her answer would determine how much context he'd have to give for this little trip.
no subject
"I've noticed." That was the first thing she noticed, since this was her home now too. "Only a few days."
Enough to get her bearings and get cozy, not long enough to make any connections yet. Not long enough to get a good idea of the political atmosphere beyond a few whispered rumors.
"You're all painted and polished, Prowl. Didn't waste time in getting comfortable. Keeping those lies up for the good of everyone? The time displacement is... interesting."
no subject
But nonetheless, he's still careful with what information he reveals,"I'm looking for Liege Maximo to discuss a case involving the death of one of this refugees." Meaning he was acting as a detective of some sort.
"I've been here for a few months, and have been completely unaware of what's happening back on our Cybertron." Time for a Topic change? Why yes! Let's talk about that time displacement thing.
no subject
"You wouldn't have anything to do with that, now would you?"
Because she highly suspected he was. It's been a long time since Prowl was anything but an enforcer, administrator, and soldier. Those of course were qualities she admired in him, though since they had a working relationship, he had done little real 'investigating'.
"Quite a lot. Where do you want me to start?"
no subject
For now, he's not going to touch that topic with a ten foot robopole. Instead, he focuses on what he might have missed.
"I arrived here as we began to close in on Bombshell and the Constructicons. Does that sound familiar to you?"
no subject
His answer makes her pause though. She had to be sure.
One hand closes over one of the doorwings, pulling him back. It's firm, hard enough to still but not enough to really hurt. Her other hand reaches for his arm to try and get a hand around the crook of his elbow.
"Don't resist. Let me get a look at you."
no subject
He only stops to face her when she tries to wrap her hand around his arm, to which he replies by pulling it away.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Better give him an explanation, stat. Prowl is not a very touchy-feely person.
no subject
"We failed, Prowl."
She wants to search him closer, just to check, but even this cursory glance she can see that he was... well, as fine as he could be. An unfamiliar heaviness settles over her spark. There was so much that Prowl didn't know, so much he hadn't experienced yet. Her optics avert.
"That was the last time you were you for a long time."