[ INTRO LOG ]

[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 no one in sight -- right at first, anyway -- 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.

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, with the bits and pieces left behind and a few determined minds, it wouldn't be too hard to build a working, if rudimentary, one...

Comments

[sparkwhisperer]

Useless. Just as Tarn had guessed. He lets out a sort of put upon sigh, taking a measured step forward. Really, what else could he expect from a someone such as Aftermath.

If he's to be honest with himself, he can feel frustration start to well up under the surface. While the mech is being courteous, he is lacking a certain fear in him that Tarn has come to expect from a mech on the list. Best to put some back into him while he has the chance.

"Hmm. A pity. I was hoping perhaps you would find a way to prove your worth in this world. A foolish notion, I know." Tarn lowers his weapon fully, deciding he should search for someone who does know where they are and why. Best not to waste time.

"But, don't you worry, Aftermath. We'll work our way down to you eventually. There is such a disappointingly long list if names, after all. Best to keep on your toes though. It may not happen today, but don't for a moment think that we've forgotten."

[warcorrespondent]

Aftermath idly wonders what happened to his survival instincts when he finds himself biting back a particularly waspish comment about Tarn fairing better. The old mech tamps down on it quickly.

He steps back when Tarn steps forwards, letting his mangled knee take the weight it couldn't until he collapses with a pained hiss that wasn't really feigned. Look at him, so terrified of the big bad DJD officer that he just tripped over himself.

"I- I'm sorry, Commander," Aftermath gasps through the pain, hunching over, hands flat against the ground and looking like the cowed and pathetic traitor that he was. "I'll find more information about this place as soon as I can, I swear."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn smirks under his mask as Aftermath collapses in a heap. Much better. He takes another measured step forward, kneeling down so that he is eye to eye with the other mech.

"Yes, you will...And perhaps if you can prove yourself to be useful, I may even bump you back a bit further on our roster, so to speak. Perhaps you can even earn a few extra years in the land of the functioning." Tarn claps a large hand on Aftermath's shoulder in a mendaciously friendly gesture. "Does that sound fair to you?" The last sentence digs brutally into the listeners spark like so many tiny needles; a taste of what is to come.

[warcorrespondent]

The bright needle burn of pain stoked a sudden, primal combination of terror and livid hatred. It takes everything in him not to reach out and try tearing out Tarn's throat- anything to make it stop, anything to kill the person making him suffer.

He was not a wild cyberhound on an electrified leash, however, and even through the pain, Aftermath knows he won't win. He endures instead, keeping his visor down so that his tormentor wouldn't the seething resentment. It passes as soon as Tarn finishes the sentence, leaving the old truck curled up, clutching at his chest plates, shaking.

"Yes... Commander," he gasps.

[sparkwhisperer]

"That's a good mech."He gives Aftermath a condescending pat on the side of his faceplate before standing to tower over him, eyes scrutinizing every bit of his aged mangled frame.

Tarn looks down, eyes set in mock pity as Aftermath lays in front of him quivering in pain. Its a shame really; if only he had been a more loyal Decepticon. It seems that they are more and more difficult to come by.

"Come now, Aftermath, up you get. I will be expecting a report as soon as you have collected more information." He sneers, "And do keep in mind; if I don't hear from you, I will have to come look for you. and you wouldn't want that would you? After allm by the time I found you I would be in such a sour mood."

[warcorrespondent]

Being pat like he was some kind of tame beast has Aftermath biting back a growl. No, he was a traitor put back into his place and it was in his best interest to let Tarn keep thinking that. Pride had no place in survival and it was not the first time he's had to cater to sadists.

He lets the spite drive him however, pushing himself up obediently onto two feet again. The paining knee and dizzying, spark-deep ache were easier to ignore when he had hatred to cling onto.

"I will not disappoint you," Aftermath manages through the static. And perhaps the old mech let his hate drive him just a little too much because the salute he executes was absolutely flawless despite his current state.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn chuckles to himself as the old truck collects himself enough to salute. A bit impressive given his physical state. Really, such a shame indeed.

"You better not. As I have said, I do hate being disappointed." He turns to walk away before pausing to glance back over his shoulder. "Oh, and Aftermath, if you happen to see the rest of my team, do send them my way won't you?" His voice is a gentle purr, as if he hadn't been threatening him mere seconds before.

And with that he transforms, armor plates sliding into place in a euphoric rush, and off he goes, leaving Aftermath behind in a cloud of dust.

[warcorrespondent]

Silently bearing the indignity of having dust kicked into his face, Aftermath ex-vents quietly.

Welp, now that that misery was over with, might as well get back to business as usual.

He cracks his knuckles and sizes up the crater walls. This was going to hurt.