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robothell2014-12-19 11:20 pm
robotsatan) wrote in robothell2014-12-19 11:20 pm
[ INTRO LOG ]
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...
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...
Re: THE CRATER
His audiols pick up a murmuring from behind a pile of rubble in the center of the crater where a figure is crouched over what appears to be a... wrench? He is unsure of the faction but the figure does not look familiar. Regardless he is determined to glean whatever information he can out of the stranger.
He clears his throat, approaching in heavy footfalls befitting of his heavy war-frame. He's hoping to use either rank, if this is a loyal Decepticon or pure, unfettered terror and a reliable reputation, if they happen to be an Autobot or member of The List. Regardless he will be getting answers.
"Hello there." He purrs, the warm timber of his voice a deceptive comfort.
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"Hmm?" She snapped the sensor panel closed and stood up, dusting metallic Cybertronian dirt from her knees as she turned...and revealed the Autobrand at the base of her neck. Tarn was considerably taller, so after a split second of staring at his chest, she looked up to politely meet his gaze.
And promptly failed to freeze in terror.
That sure was a Decepticon logo where most mechs kept their faces, which struck her as a little weird, but today had been a weird day in general, and Nautica merely cocked her head in bemusement.
"Hello." Her voice couldn't compete with his, but it was still a pleasant greeting paired with a friendly smile.
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"All alone, are we, little Autobot? What a shame." He leans down to better look her in the eye, dark optics peircing from behind the smooth metal of the mask, "What could you possibly you up to?"
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Assuming she ever got back. Nautica pushed the thought aside, but it lent conviction to the unimpressed frown she directed at Tarn for his trouble. Wrench dangling loosely from one hand, she folded her arms and continued not to cower, or indeed even take a step back despite Tarn looming. "Dial it down a notch, Mister. I'm perfectly willing to chat, but not if you're going to be a jerk about it."
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Fascinating.
He supposes he should educate her on who he is. He is sure that there is not a single functioning Autobot who hasn't at least heard of the Decepticon Justice Division. Perhaps that will get some sort of response.
"Forgive me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tarn, of the Decepticon Justice Division."
There. That should do it.
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Sorry about your impending headache, Tarn.
When he stopped acting quite so much like he had a windowless van down by the river, Nautica relaxed and her smile returned. See, everything went so much more smoothly when people behaved like civilized mechs. "Oh, like the city? I'm Nautica. Nice to meet you...though the circumstances could be better."
She gestured expansively to indicate the entire deserted planet, rather than the situation as it would strike anyone else: a single more or less noncombatant Autobot alone with the universe's biggest homicidal sadist, who, incidentally, hated Autobots on principle.
Ignorance really was bliss.
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Tarn is silent for a few moments, blinking. This is not the appropriate reaction to have when faced with the leader of the DJD. A mech so dangerous and sadistic that the mere mention of him can send Autobots running.
"Yes...Like the city." For once he finds himself lost for words. He joins her in looking around the crater instead. "Where exactly are we anyway?"
He supposes he could just kill her and be done with it (after all she is an Autobot) but what use would that be. Most of the time killing Autobots was rewarded by fear and panic and overall chaos for Tarn to enjoy. killing her wouldn't even be fun. So he sighs instead, deciding to attempt at actual social interaction for the first time in a long, long while.
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"Weird as it is, my scans say Cybertron. I don't recognize the city, I'm afraid, but I'd defer to a native on that." Like Tarn presumably was, and Nautica looked at him to answer the implicit question, despite the fact she'd just indirectly claimed to be something he didn't know existed. At least finding out she hailed from somewhere that had only made contact with the homeworld in the last year or so should ease his existential crisis over not being recognized.
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"I do not recognize it... but I suppose the war has changed many cities greatly." He sighs, lowering his heavy war frame onto a nearby rock, settling wearily. It certainly has been a trying day.
"And, ah, where do you hail from, if not from Cybertron?" His treads rustle and his frame creaks as he shifts to a more comfortable position. He makes another fruitless attempt to ping his team before finally giving up and giving Nautica his full attention.
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"I'm from Caminus," she explained, retrieving Brainstorm's briefcase and searching out her own rock to sit on. "We were settled by a Metrotitan millions of years ago, long before the war started, and we fell out of contact with Cybertron and the other Titans after he became too weak to use his space bridge. It was only recently that anybody made it out far enough that we got back in touch. My friends and I agreed to go help repair Metroplex, and that's how I ended up on Cybertron a few months back."
She got the strained look of someone who didn't really know how to have the awkward part of the conversation. "We were. Uh. Dismayed to find out about the war."
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She missed the war. Away all those millions of years unaware of the strife and injustice happening in the homeland. And yet somehow she defaults to the Autobots? Well...that simply won't do.
"And yet, if you missed the war why align yourself with the Autobots? Why not remain...unaffiliated if you will." While NAILs carry the rank stench that accompanies lack of conviction, at least then it would be easier to gently guide her to the proper side. But then again, when has Tarn ever backed down from a challenge?
or this will get completely jossed in six months WHO THE FUCK KNOWS
Nautica herself wasn't religious in any way, but she came from a society sustained solely by the resources provided by a single Metrotitan, one who'd willingly sacrificed himself so that his smaller cousins could live. It would be hard to overstate the respect they all felt for Caminus and his brethren, and Metroplex was first among them all, Caminus' closest friend and confidant. Even if the Decepticons hadn't turned from freedom fighters to genocidal tyrants over the course of the war, siding against Metroplex would have been unthinkable.
"Besides, Thunderclash was very convincing. I've never met anyone with such a nuanced understanding of ethical philosophy." When the first Autobot one met also happened to be the greatest Autobot, it did tend to color one's impressions favorably.
ITS COOL
It has not been long enough since he last heard that name uttered. Tarn hates Autobots. And if there is anyone more of an Autobot than Optimus Prime himself, it is Thunderclash.
Years past, his team had a run in with the crew of the Vis Vitalis. Never before has the DJD been so thoroughly destroyed by a crew of Autobots. The incident marks the one command for retreat that he has ever issued. An embarrassing moment, truly. Since that moment Tarn has sworn retribution upon Thunderclash and his crew.
He throws on a sort of blasé facade, glancing at Nautica. "Hm. I see...Thunderclash? And how is he doing?" Dead, Tarn hopes. "I haven't been in the pleasure of his company in quite some time."
Its personal now. Tarn is determined to trump Thunderclash. He will convert Nautica or die trying
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"He's well, as far as I know." Sorry, Tarn. On the bright side, that meant Tarn could still fantasize about killing him. "Still looking for the Knights of Cybertron."
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Tarn grins behind his mask."Oh, excellent."
He starts to feel a familiar itch in his t-cog, his need to transform slowly starting to become more urgent. He suppresses it a while longer in favor to learn more about his current companion and how she may best serve the cause.
"Tell me a bit about yourself, Nautica. You seem like a bright and spirited individual. What did you do on Caminus?" He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward in interest. Flattery and charm are his best weapon in this instance. He will win this.
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Right. People talked about themselves sometimes. That was normal.
"Me? I'm an engineer." She held up her wrench by way of emphasis. "Quantum mechanic. If it's attached to a ship and does impossible things to the laws of physics, I'm there. In my downtime I, uh--" Nautica faltered briefly before recovering as she realized she didn't really do all that much. "--I read, mostly. I like a glass of good engex."
She shrugged, not really self-deprecating, but somewhat at a loss. "Caminus is pretty uneventful compared to Cybertron."
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"That's wonderful! Such an auspicious talent, I'm sure the Autobots have made great use of it. I, myself, am in a more...corporeal line of work." Tarn explains making a sort of noncommittal hand gesture.
"I can relate to your love of literature and fine engex though. I have a collection of the best vintage blends that I've picked up here and there on my travels. Have you read much from Authors on Cybertron or does your selection come from other worlds?"
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So, talking about something else, then.
Tarn spared her the work of coming up with a subject change, and at the mention of books, she immediately perked up, awkwardness disappearing into a scholar's enthusiasm.
"I've been playing catch-up," she said in roughly the same way a small child would talk about Christmas. "The hard sciences don't change and are mostly a matter of presentation, of course, but philosophy and the arts diverged so much, and I get to experience it in one vast arc. The sweep of history is awe-inspiring...and tragic, really. In retrospect, you can see the Functionist orthodoxy hardening, in a way that probably wasn't clear at the time, and the corresponding poverty of expression in the published literature. I'm sure there was underground art, because there always is, but so little of it survived, and--" she stopped when she realized she was lecturing and looked a little sheepish again. "Uh. Sorry."
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"No, please continue. Really the art pieces created in that period were quite eloquent, it's a shame that war is so unforgiving to such institutions. The music though...The music from the beginning of the war is unlike any other. Such passion and suffering."
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"Turbulent times do lead to great art," she agreed, leaning forward as she became more absorbed in the conversation. "It feels a bit...ghoulish to say it, but I think people being able to turn suffering into something beautiful is one of the real triumphs of the Cybertronian spirit."
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"Yes, exactly!" Unable to hold back he transforms. Tank, then back to robot in a flash. "You see all of these pieces born from the oppression of the senate... They hold so much power that the creator, themselves, lacked in their day to day lives. And it continues to evolve even further as the war progresses!" Tarn takes a few steps to move in front of Nautica, kneeling to her level. "Some of the best works are born from pain. I dare say it even increases it's beauty- you can sense the raw intensity of emotion that the maker infused directly into it. Whether it be in the form of prose, or poem, or song; It proves that suffering itself can be the most raw, and powerful, and truly exquisite emotion available."
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At this point, anyone with a working sense of self preservation would have been checking their watch and gathering their coat, but Nautica was merely taken aback by the strength of his reaction. More used to academia than war, she didn't interpret a passionate presentation of a questionable thesis as a warning sign of anything but the possibility of getting cornered in the lounge after the seminar for a longer talk. Of course, her fellow academics didn't wander around with fusion cannons on their arms, but one had to make allowances for culture, and Tarn had been quite polite since their initial misunderstanding.
"Pain--in whatever guise--is primal, definitely." Though she appreciated the courtesy, even kneeling, Tarn was taller than a seated Nautica, and she rested her elbows on her knees and looked up at him, gesturing for emphasis as she spoke. "I'm not sure anything is more so, and that has a certain, hmm...totemic power, let's say, but I think you're coming perilously close to attributing virtue to the sensation itself, rather than the response to it. Those pre-War artists and poets all chose to forge something beautiful and meaningful from their experience. We get to share in that experience, albeit imperfectly, because of that choice. To weigh their suffering as greater or more important than their strength in the face of it would do them, and their art, a disservice."
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“Yes but there within lies the problem.” Tarn claps one of his large hand on his knee while the other gestures to Nautica. “The strength to overcome of course ads to it, yes, but really, in my humble opinion, the beauty is in the complex emotional effusion. To be able to inject that into a work so profoundly takes talent in the grandest sense of the word. To be able to feel it as they feel it? As if you are there with them? Honestly- remarkable. “
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The war, their war, not hers, no matter what symbol she wore on her chest, was over. Why wouldn't she debate?
"You could say that of any strong feeling--love, rage, joy--why single out suffering?" She meant the question genuinely, not as a rhetorical flourish. Nautica didn't care about winning a debate--thesis, antithesis, the point was to get to synthesis. "Because it's the one we want to avoid more than any other?"
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Tarn cocks his head giving Nautica an appraising look "I must say i am pleased that our paths have crossed. There are not many people who are willing to have such an in depth conversation about the arts. Have you read any works by Megatron?"
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