[ 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

[starscheme]

That would probably seem really threatening if this Megatron was wearing a Decepticon badge, but since he isn't...

"On my part? No. Had I considered it as an option? Yes. If anyone else has tried I have not heard about it, though I doubt very much that anyone has. Our forces were quite scattered, by the end." He pauses, and then adds: "Also I would consider it extremely rude for anyone else to try, seeing as that is not their mantle to inherit."

[towardspeace]

He snorts. "I'd imagine if you'd done nothing to assert your inheritance they'd have every right." But he supposes it doesn't matter, not really. "Your Megatron, what does he look like?" He gestures to his own face. "No nose? Not much kibble? Unnecessarily... pointy?"

[starscheme]

Starscream's wings flip up, and he appears momentarily alarmed, and then incredulous, eyes suddenly intense. "So you have seen him? Where!?"

[towardspeace]

Megatron frowns. "I have... in a sense. I don't know that he'd recognise you, though; you might have nothing to worry about," he says, more than a little sarcastically.

[starscheme]

The seeker also frowns. "What, exactly, makes you say that...?" He asks, growling slightly. He doesn't seem thrilled by the suggestion that Megatron might not recognize him at all. He's already experienced that once, in a way, and that was more than enough.

[towardspeace]

"I don't know how long ago you met him, where you come from, but he seems fairly... young. He told me he was a gladiator." He hasn't lowered the pistol.

[starscheme]

And Starscream is still hyper aware of the weapon in his face. He glances at it uneasily, and his frown deepens. "My Megatron is millennia beyond his life as a pit fighter. You must have run into a look-alike," he says stubbornly, and then nods his head towards the gun, putting on a pleading expression. "Surely there is no need to maintain such a mistrustful stance...? Now that we have become better acquainted."

[towardspeace]

"A look-alike? No. Most likely simply the same one, at a great temporal discrepancy." He still doesn't lower the pistol. "And honestly, 'Starscream', I have no more reason to trust you now than I did when you started speaking."

[starscheme]

That only encourages him to crank up the 'innocent bystander' theatrics; his eyes grow wider, wings droop further. He leans back away from the gun another inch or so, an uneasy look on his face, and lets out a pathetically humorless laugh. "I take it that where I have a Megatron, you must have... a Starscream... as well," he says slowly, then glances back up from the weapon, hoping that might lead Megatron into some kind of explanation that he might use to find a way to talk him out of shooting him up. It only makes sense that the situation would be similar: Peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, tyrannical warlord and weaselly second in command...

[towardspeace]

"Indeed. He is an overambitious, arrogant fool incapable of putting anything before his own gain. He abandoned the Decepticon cause when they lost in favour of playing politician." Of course what Megatron did is totally different,

[starscheme]

"So, what. Your intent is to shoot me for the actions of an individual who merely shares my name...?" he whines miserably. A name and, y'know. Some key personality traits. He's not about to point that out though.

[towardspeace]

"If you have anything beyond the name in common with him then I certainly have no reason to trust you enough to put the gun away," Megatron replies. "I don't intend to kill you. But I don't intend to let my guard down, either."

[starscheme]

"So I'm supposed to trust you instead, that you aren't going to shoot me as I back away?" Starscream argues dessperately. "If you are anything like the Megatron i know, you can likely fold me into a cube with one hand. Besides, you're the one with the gun, and who is inexplicably sporting Autobot colors."

[towardspeace]

God, how Megatron wishes he was still capable of demolishing people that easily. But he's not exactly about to correct him.

"And you're the one who snuck up behind me with your weapons pointed at my back," he points out flatly. "But... I suppose I should at least credit you with the common sense to realise how pointless it would be to attack me. I am every bit as stranded here as you are. If we want any hope of returning to where we came from, everyone here will need to cooperate." His optics are narrowed slightly, in an I'm-sure-that-was-what-you-were-thinking-right sort of way.

[starscheme]

"I only approached as such because I thought you were an Autobot," he whines. He wonders how many times he has to point out the badge before Megatron actually offers him an explanation without Starscream needing to ask him directly. He's honestly intrigued; this Megatron apparently defects, the one that he knows abdicates... what is this trend with Megatrons going ridiculously soft?

The seeker glances around nervously, twitching a wing and making like he's just staying alert to their surroundings instead of avoiding meeting this other Megatron's optics. It... wasn't precisely what he had been thinking, but then again he hasn't really worked out an alternate plan yet, either. May as well go along with it. He looks back, expression contrite. "So... what you're suggesting is that I stick with you, for the time being, so that we might work out a plan? Together?" he tries not to look too obviously hopeful about the idea.

[towardspeace]

"What I'm suggesting is that we have a greater chance of finding any solutions as a cohesive group than as a disorganised collection of stragglers." He narrows his optics slightly. "And I am an Autobot. If that's enough to prompt you to attack me then I suggest you get it over with." Megatron assumes he won't. If he's any stripe of Starscream like the one he knows, then he'll probably twig that something's off about Megatron's physical capabilities at some point, but it doesn't seem like he has yet.

[starscheme]

"Ahah... Pass," he laughs meekly. "Now that I know who you are I certainly don't have any reason to do anything so rash; the fact that I did not recognize you as a Megatron before factored in to that decision as well, after all." He looks him up and down again, making note of the physical differences as well as the demeanor...

"...Even if you are apparently from some sort of 'alternate dimension' wherein the history announces that you serve the Autobots, rather than forming your own faction," he growls thoughtfully. "The important thing is that you make an excellent point. Very well: I shall accompany you, and assist," Starscream says, confident and matter-of-factly, as if he were actually formally extended an offer for a position at this Megatron's side.

[towardspeace]

That, he decides, is good enough; he nods, lowers the gun at last, and gestures for Starscream to go ahead of him.

"Have you encountered any other Autobots here, yet?"

[starscheme]

Starscream blinks in surprise over the fact that someone was actually taking him at his word for once. How unusual. His wings tuck back and he slinks ahead a few steps. "Just one. He had no visible badge but he did identify himself as such. Seemed to have a few wires loose, if you catch my drift. Called himself Sentinel Prime, which is of course, impossible because Sentinel... is..."

He trails off, suddenly putting two and two together now that he understands that there's some time and alternate universe shit happening in this place. "Ah."

He decides that touching upon how he fired on the guy for ignoring him is probably not a good thing to bring up right now.

[towardspeace]

"...Sentinel," Megatron repeats, with faint disgust. "Of course." EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTED. Not that there's anything he can do about that – that is, he supposes, a bridge he'll have to cross when he comes to it. "And Decepticons...?"

[starscheme]

He kind of wants to ask about Sentinel, since apparently this Megatron knows him, but... later. "None that I expect you would be familiar with. Two from my own... 'universe'. Airachnid, who I suppose isn't actually so much a Decepticon as a filthy deserter, and..." He pauses, lip curling a bit. "Dreadwing."

[towardspeace]

Airachnid isn't a familiar name, but he makes a note of it. Dreadwing is, but Starscream's evident distaste for him is a mystery.

"Dreadwing?" He raises a non-eyebrow, clearly looking for an explanation.

[starscheme]

Starscream groans softly, dragging a hand down his face. "He... we have a bit of history, you could say. Suffice to say that he doesn't particularly like me very much."

He waits a moment and then adds: "I would never in a million cycles have guessed that he would be here, but now that I have the context of time discrepancies, it makes a great deal more sense that he would unfortunately be flying around in the same air space as me instead of rusting in a scrap heap like he should be."

[towardspeace]

"Ah," says Megatron. "You killed him, then, before...?"

[starscheme]

"Me?" A surprised twitch, he taps his claws together as he walks. For a moment Starscream instinctively considers taking credit for Dreadwing's death just to improve appearances, but it occurs to him that might not actually be the best course of action in this situation. He'll have to settle for... ugh... the truth.

"...No, I was not the one who killed him. Megatron was." The seeker doesn't seem very keen on divulging any more details on the matter unless pressed.