[ INTRO LOG #2 ]

[robotsatan]

You don't know how you got here. One minute you were walking, sleeping, maybe dead -- then you're here, your feet suddenly carrying you down an empty street. Where's here?

Any Cybertronian would recognize this as their home planet, Cybertron, but it's not a Cybertron they've ever known. It has all the familiar hallmarks, but none of the specifics -- the city isn't one anyone here could identify, and even at a glance it's obvious that no one's set foot on the planet's surface in hundreds of years. The city and its surrounding areas all bear the marks of devastating war, of dust and rust collected over centuries. With other people relatively scarce, there's plenty to explore. In fact, if you start walking, you'll find that your feet may just carry you in one particular direction.

Despite its obvious ruin and aeons-long abandonment, the city and surrounding areas do bear some signs of recent habitation. There's a small but growing population of other people, Cybertronian and otherwise, and there's evidence of their presence -- areas of the city that have been cleaned up for use, intact rooms in ruins of buildings where people have set up to live, a few terminals here and there that have been restored to power.

A) The crater.
On one edge of the city is a massive crater left by some wartime weapon that seems to have taken out a large chunk of the surrounding metropolitan area. At the center of the crater it's broken through the surface of the terrain to reveal what looks like it might be a promising energon deposit. There is some strange but native vegetation growing around the edges, too, that no Cybertronian would be able to identify -- small, metallic, brittle-looking sprouts that bear a curiously organic-looking fruit of some kind that doesn't look like it's intended for consumption by any natives of the planet. In one rocky nook of the crater, light catches on the surface of a pool of water, which seems strangely out of place on Cybertron. On closer inspection, it seems that somehow an underground water source has formed a spring in the crater.

B) The center of the city.
If you follow where your feet seem to want to carry you, you'll find yourself in the middle of the ruined city. It seems that the center of the city was once home to a massive forum, and some of the pillars and structures still stand. At the very center of the forum is a massive, elaborately constructed fountain, although it has now long since run dry of whatever used to fill it. One of the low, inner walls of the forum has a terminal embedded in its surface, although it looks curiously ancient, out of place with the rest of the city, and unlike the rest of the technology still left around, there doesn't seem to be any way to power it on or operate it. There are a few scattered pools of water and a few of the strange metallic plants in the city, too, but they're not quite as plentiful as in the crater.

The planet was obviously once home to a massive network of communication relays, but those have all been long since destroyed. However, a few enterprising transplants have worked together to set up a working local network, which can be accessed via any one of the public terminals, any built-in comms systems your character might have (audio only), or a handheld device produced by one of the people who set up the network.

Comments

[primebyproxy]

Ultra Magnus' back and arms still ache from the weight of the drill as he powers down, curled in on himself to fit in what space he has in his cell. They'll still ache when he has to shoulder the massive machine again tomorrow. There's nothing he can do about that any more.

Everything still aches when he comes online to the overpowering need to walk somewhere. He knows he shouldn't try; disobedience means pain. But he can't shake the urge, and when he looks up slowly, ready to be kicked back down by a guard, he finds he's no longer in his cell. He has no idea where he is or how he got here from the mines, and as he labours to his feet, he groans. His entire being feels sore and worn down to the frame. Abused joints squeal under the strain of standing straight for the first time in weeks; bleary optics focus skyward, at some distant point he can't see.

Magnus has no idea where he is, but he knows he needs to be somewhere else. His first step is a staggering one and he grabs at the wall for balance, kicking over a pile of rusted rubble in the struggle to avoid falling.

He should try to find fuel, too. He starts forward again, more slowly this time.

toot toot trainwreck express

[staygoldponybot]

Sentinel is out... well, he can't really use the "scavenging" excuse, anymore. He's just straight up bumming around, looking for somewhere to stay.

Which is why, coincidentally, he comes across Magnus. He almost pulls a gun on the guy, until he sees the state the other bot is in. He doesn't lower it out of the goodness of his spark, but rather not wanting to waste bullets.

He cocks his head at the figure, squinting. Who is this Autobot. Why is he so big.

all aboard

[primebyproxy]

Magnus is so busy watching where he puts his feet so he doesn't fall that he hardly notices his would-be assailant. It's only when he sees the shadow about to fall across him that he looks up, and when he does, suddenly, his air compressors stop working for a moment. It feels like a punch to the chest.

He knows those colours. He knows that shape. He looks at the other Autobot like he's just seen a ghost.

"S… Sentinel Prime? Sir?" he ventures, uneasy. It can't be, not really, he tells himself. He saw Sentinel Prime's body torn to pieces in the crater where Megatron left it. And yet…

[sciencetank]

He's not the only huge bot out and about.

Although, Perceptor is more used to the sudden change of pace by now. Enough to where he's gotten sick of the whole "new world" nonsense. Time to get down to the business of studying and working on a way to leave.

He's so engrossed in studying the scrap of unfamiliar flora that the sounds of footsteps doesn't seem to rattle him. He'd been so used to Grimlock's stomping, wall-shaking footfalls, after all. What's one more?

[primebyproxy]

That familiar shape, in those familiar colours, draws a look of surprise from Magnus when he finally has a chance to pause so he needn't watch where he puts his feet. He didn't expect to see the scientist ever again, yet there he is. Magnus almost smiles.

"Perceptor?" he sighs, relieved. Perhaps they infiltrated the security systems and got everyone out of the cells.

[rodders]

Well there's a familiar bot - Rodimus hadn't seen Magnus in a while, and it ate at him that he couldn't bring him up on the comm as well. Had he gone home? And if he had, how had he managed that? Surely he wasn't so put out with him that he decided he just wouldn't tell the rest of the crew - no, he was certain Magnus wouldn't do that. And hey, he'd managed to find and get himself into the armor.

He probably could punch the shit out of anyone they needed him to now at this point.

It takes a bit of jogging for him to catch up to Magnus, grin in place. "Hey, big guy!"

[primebyproxy]

Big guy. Magnus pauses, bemused. He's never heard anyone address him like that – it sounds warm. Friendly. It's not something he's used to. He turns that briefly unguarded look on the stranger before unease shutters his expression and furrows his brow. He has no idea who this person is – or why he acts like they're familiar with one another. He isn't even wearing a brand.

"H… hello?" Magnus ventures awkwardly, stiffly. He doesn't want to be rude but he isn't sure how to proceed, either. He can't even be sure what faction the other bot is with. Magnus tucks in on himself just a little, unconsciously preparing for the backlash. Or a fight.

[planate]

"Magnus!"

It's not hard to recognise the general shape. Even with the differences, not many mechs are as FUCKING HUGE as Magnus is. Pipes runs up to him, delighted.

"It's good to see-- you?"

A little late does he see just how different the armour is. The minibot doesn't sound disappointed though, just mildly confused.

[primebyproxy]

Ultra Magnus peers down at the strange Autobot who inexplicably feels comfortable abbreviating his name with so much familiarity and he frowns, more in consternation than disapproval. He doesn't know this bot and while he could understand being recognised by just about anyone in the ranks on either side of the war, being called to like a friend is what's most baffling.

"Thank you?" he murmurs, equally confused.

oboyohboyohboy

[airguardian]

Jetfire happens to be in the skies. There's never too much air traffic and getting the lay of the land is far easier like this than on foot. He's not likely to get shot at either. It's a shame that he hasn't been able to salvage much in the way of equipment or anything of use.

However, he doesn't need any scanners or anything of the like to see that someone is struggling down below. There is no telling at this distance who it is or what badge they wear. Jetfire is still under the impression that such things don't matter so much in this environment. Thus he makes a rather quick descent, transforming mid way with his hands up in the universal 'I mean no harm' gesture.

It's then that Jetfire notices who it is on uneasy footing. Ultra Magnus... Perhaps the question should be 'which Ultra Magnus' but right now that's not something that really matters. Instead the scientist lands and extends a hand.

"I don't think you should be out here in your condition, sir."

Doesn't hurt to be polite regardless.

[primebyproxy]

The first sound of engines in the sky sends Magnus looking for cover; ages of war with Seekers makes it a trained reflex. There aren't many places on an open street like this for someone of his mass to hide. He half-steps, half-staggers into the meagre shelter where a support has started coming away from the very wall it was meant to keep standing and leans back, wearily watching for one of the Extermination Squadron drones to appear. He hasn't quite got his rifle into his hand before that sleek white jet transforms.

He stops. He hasn't seen that one in quite a long time. Something like relief washes through Magnus and he sags against the wall rather than take Jetfire's hand right away. Exhaustion makes his limbs even heavier at the thought of asking anyone to support him now.

"Just tired," he lies. Starving and abused and tired. "What – what happened to the guards? The drones? How did I get back to the surface?" He squints and shakes his head, trying to clear it, and looks up and down the empty street. "…Where is everyone else?"

B

[tsunclonus]

The unidentified city is a harsh contrast to glittering Rodion in its prime. When they time-jumped again, the last thing Cyclonus expected was to find himself in what appeared to be post-war Cybertron in the middle of a city he doesn't recognize.

Were they too late? Is this the new future Brainstorm's meddling wrought? But how did he get here, and why is he alone? Where are Tailgate and the others?

He almost takes to the sky to search for signs of life, but he finds himself walking instead. There's a feeling urging him on, guiding his footsteps in one direction. Ahead of him are the ruins of some grand forum. He can tell it was beautiful once, and his spark aches for it as it does for the Cybertron he once knew.

Cautiously, he approaches the center of the city.

[ancillary]

"Native?"

High heeled boots strike metal in sharp rhythmic patterns as Miranda comes striding down maintenance catwalk that wraps around between two buildings at the city perimeter. What with being human and navigating a city designed for significantly large inhabitants, Miranda stands a few feet below the guard railing.

Cyclonus might notice on the approach she has her hand running along a semi-transparent blue light flickering like water catching the light; a biotic barrier constructed to make the catwalk safer for someone her size, and insurance for a potential firefight. Paranoia had its benefits. She looked down at Cyclonus, regarding him coolly with barefaced suspicion.

[tsunclonus]

Cyclonus frowns up at Miranda, observing her critcially. He draws no weapons, but he's ready for a fight should this stranger attempt to start one.

He recognizes the human form, but Cybertron had never been particularly friendly towards organic life. A holomatter avatar, perhaps? Could her true self be somewhere else? His gaze flicks suspiciously to the ruins on either side of him, though he doesn't move his head. No other movement, but he keeps his senses on high alert.

Finally he answers the question. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

This place certainly seems like Cybertron, and yet it doesn't seem to be any Cybertron he knows; neither his own shining Cybertron nor the war-torn ruin he'd returned to. The unrecognizable city, the strange pools that seemed to be water, those plants... It was all wrong.

"And you are?"

B

[wimbles]

Windblade has never seen all that much of Cybertron.

She's seen it from space, of course, and she knows Metroplex, Iacon, like the back of her hand by now, but she's yet to have much cause to venture into the uninhabited wilderness very often – so when she finds herself here, in what she knows must be Cybertron from the feeling it has, old and alive on a scale far beyond Caminus, she assumes at first that she hasn't left the planet, never mind the universe. Not that she isn't worried, of course – she has no idea where she is or how she got there – but the scope of her concern is... smaller. More manageable.

There's something somehow different about the sky, though, and her attempts to comm allies and friends get her nowhere – and when she takes to the air to get her bearings, she doesn't get far beyond the city limits before she realises something is pulling her back.

It feels, to Windblade, who has spent her entire life speaking with titans, as if someone is trying to tell her something.

She turns around, following that beckoning impulse straight to the ruined forum.

She's drawn immediately to the terminal and its endlessly looping images – it's nothing she's used to, but it's definitely some attempt to communicate...

The trail she's left across the sky is pretty obvious, pretty easy to follow. Someone should interrupt her before she and Cybertron have a Moment.

[chickscream]

By someone, do you mean Slipstream? You probably meant Slipstream. Even if you didn't mean Slipstream, congratulations! Here is a Slipstream, rising out of the city in altmode and blatantly showing off as she does a giant loop-de-loop around the unfamiliar jet, before settling in off her wing.

She is not even remotely trying to hide the Decepticon crests on her wings, but almost no one has taken issue with them; she's almost forgotten they're there.

"I don't think I've seen you around before," she calls across the gap between herself and the sleek stranger. "Nice altmode. Can you hover with those things?"

[wimbles]

Yeah, Windblade definitely isn't going to remark on her insignia, although she is pretty surprised to see anybody else here at all – never mind to be approached so casually.

She keeps her distance; her impressive blue eyebrows would be furrowing a little if she had a face right now.

"Where are we?"

[arnhaid]

Okay... jet contrails aren't usually something good. Then again, with the war apparently over, who can say? It still makes him uneasy. It still makes him track it, until he ends up crashing through some underbrush near Windblade's position.

Graceful, Ironhide is not.

They don't look like anyone he knows. But, given everything lately, that doesn't say much. He doesn't move any closer to the stranger, not wanting to spook them, in case they were friendly. Or provoke them, if they weren't. He's not looking for a fight, after all. Just keeping an eye on things for Prime.

tee hee

[aerospacecommander]

Starscream couldn't help but notice the other flier in the sky and he follows, but waits until she lands to approach. He doesn't know this one (that has been happening to him a lot), so he couldn't be sure if she was an Autobot, Decepticon or something else. He assumes Autobot, however, because even he'll admit that most members of his faction just look angry all the time.

It came with the territory.

He saunters on up without really a care, or at least that is the air he gives off.

"You're new. And in need of some help, I presume? Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Because Starscream is the most helpful person ever.

[quantumechanic]

Granted, six months of separation was like five minutes, robot time, but Nautica was still overjoyed to see the outline of a familiar altmode against the sky. She checked the trajectory with her wrench, then ran to meet her friend. Her own altmode was of absolutely no use in the city, so it took longer than she would have liked before Nautica was charging up behind Windblade while the cityspeaker leaned over the terminal.

"Windblade! Windblade!"

Watch out girl you're getting hugged.

[luckyfaceplate]

The jet trail certainly catches Optimus's attention. He'd seen many flyers in the sky--maybe a little too many for comfort, but this is one of the first he can feel slightly good about. There's something distinct about it, and tugs at the back of his mind in familiarity. His curiosity piqued, he follows it before it fades into the sky, for once wishing he had wings of his own to tail it.

Seeing the trail eventually taper off, he stumbles into the area around Windblade's approximate position, eyes tracking the area until he sets sights on her.

And never before has he been more glad to see such a new--yet familiar face.

"Windblade."

[auramatic]

Drift only catches a brief glimpse of the jet before there's nothing but a vapor trail to follow, but even at a glance he knows it's no one he recognizes. Someone new, he's guessing -- and given how things have been shaping up lately, it wouldn't hurt to greet them. He follows the trail to the center of the city, tires tearing up old stone paths -- his alt mode isn't nearly as fast as hers, sleek as it is, so by the time he gets there the other mech is already in front of the terminal, her back to him. Drift knows his approach isn't exactly subtle, though, so he's not worried about surprising her when he transforms without coming to a halt, running off the last few steps of momentum as his feet hit the ground. It's too bad you weren't watching, Windblade, that was a pretty sweet entrance.

He's about to draw a little more attention to his presence with a cool greeting, but he's then immediately distracted by the sight of the terminal over her shoulder. He's been here about as long as anyone, and he's never seen the terminal here light up like that -- as far as he knew, no one could get it working. Drift's optics narrow slightly in bewildered curiosity as he approaches from behind without introducing himself, more interested in the strange images than Windblade for the time being. All of them are unfamiliar, but they strike him as somehow meaningful.

"How long has it been doing this?"

[smallandincharge]

The stars had stopped moving.
As Ultra Magnus appears on the strange new Cybertron, that is all that she manages to hold on to. Perceptor and Megatron are both gone. The communications room, the briefcases, the Lost Light - all gone. All that remains is that stark, unsettling memory of the universe grinding to a halt. She had tried to put a brave face on it, but being the last witness of the collapse of the grand order of reality was the most unsettled she had ever been since hearing of the introduction of the abridged Autobot Code.
She reconsiders. She has something else - the spark-deep sensation of time, or perhaps space, having passed her by while she wasn't looking. This isn't like the last time that the time-space continuum collapsed out from under her, when whole chunks of the Lost Light had vanished piecemeal, when most of her crew had been swept away by quantum brooms (she's pretty sure that's how that simile goes), when she herself had vanished, only to reappear what was apparently hours later, not having noticed a moment of it. This time, she knows something's happened. She just can't remember any of it.
She looks down, and abruptly realizes that she brought one more thing with her. Inexplicably, impossibly, of all the things she could have taken from the lost Lost Light - she still clutches the golden, grinning face of her Rodimus Star in one massive hand.
Ultra Magnus finally looks up. While she was lost in contemplation, her feet have been carrying her along a street that is both completely unrecognizable and strangely familiar. This is neither the Cybertron she knew of old, nor the Cybertron reborn that she left behind. But, nonetheless, it feels like Cybertron. Where is she, anyways?

((This is your friendly reminder that Ultra Magnus uses she/her/hers pronouns, and that everyone should just use them, by default, both IC and OOC, without commenting or considering that strange. TY!))

I MEANT TO TAG YOU A LOT SOONER, SORRY

[decepticonvict]

Unfortunately, Ultra Magnus' quiet and pensive moment is not fated to last too much longer.

Pursuit has been scoping out the area, both on foot and from the air, ever since they arrived on this weird, unfamiliar-yet-familiar Cybertron. Most of what they've seen have been ruined buildings – buildings with undeniably Cybertronian architecture that they just can't recognize – but they've spotted signs of activity and life as well. It is just Ultra Magnus' luck that she is the first living being Pursuit encounters face-to-face.

"Hey, shoulders!" Pursuit calls, as they approach her. Who she is doesn't register immediately; Pursuit has been removed from the action of the war for long enough that they've more or less forgotten about every major wartime figure who isn't a Decepticon or Optimus Prime. Plus, the war is over now, so who cares? "Do you know where we are, exactly? It looks like Cybertron, but–– whoa, wait a minute."

"Are you...Ultra Magnus?" It kind of comes out as a squeak.

SLAMS INTO THIS

[rodders]

Okay there's someone he knows, and Rodimus waves at Ultra Magnus from where he'd been wandering back to his and Drift's place after another incredibly boring and uneventful hour or two. Considering what he's managed to get himself into in the past few weeks, however, it's probably for the best. He only needed to end up under Ratchet's care the once - but there's something different about him since the last time Magnus probably laid her eyes on her captain.

Most noticeably the lack of a badge and the by-now dim line of welding around the shoulder of one of his arms. There's a fair amount of small dents and dings that come with a self-repair that's busy with other things, but he's not really bothered by it.

"Magnus. Hey, Ultra Magnus!" He calls, waving at her again in case she missed it the first time.