robot satan (
robotsatan) wrote in
robothell2014-12-19 11:20 pm
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[ 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...
no subject
It takes him a full moment to recover. "U-Um, no offense, but if you're seen with me and not horribly murdering me, won't you get slapped on the DJD's list? The war's over but... some people don't seem to care."
That aside, he transforms anyway. There would be no way he could keep up on his feet. He had a little bit of a speed advantage in his altmode, but he was still comically small next to Sixshot. Missing roughly a 1/4th of the size of Ratchet's altmode, he was miniscule.
"Are you sure this is okay?"
no subject
Whose problem it would be is left up in the air.
"Megatron has commanded peace. Megatron is who I belong to," he clarifies afterwards, sobering abruptly. "Whatever the DJD think has never be my concern. I am his tool- not theirs." The DJD, at least, he could fight. If he turned on Megatron, he would be shut down and left to rust away until his master needed him again.
Then again, Megatron had stunk of Fool's Energon, the scent hanging around him like a shroud, a screaming beacon of weakness. Sixshot could have ripped his vocalizer out before his Master had ever uttered a single word. Won his freedom.
He'd left the silver tyrant alive instead.
The scent trail grows denser in the air, brighter, distracting Sixshot from his meandering thoughts. He spots the footprints in the dust shortly afterwards and makes after them at a steady, even pace, giving his current tiny company some breathing room.
no subject
He nearly bumps into Sixshot's paw as his thoughts wander, but he catches himself and veers away enough that he doesn't brush into the giant death machine. He's still expecting to die, since that seems to be a reasonable expectation when following around a mech that destroys worlds, but he's at least functioning.
"Would you kill them if they came after you?" the words leave his vocalizer before he has the chance to really think about it.
no subject
Figures the Autobots would want to use him too.
He does spare a moment to think about it though, what he would do if the DJD came after him. They would be a bit more of a challenge, perhaps, Tarn certainly with his deadly voice. But even Tesaurus and Helex were still small next to Sixshot's true mass and all of them would tire in ways that energon fueled mechs would eventually tire.
"I suppose it can't hurt to try," he answers finally.
no subject
"No!" he says that maybe too forcefully. "No. I wouldn't ask Megatron to do something like that. He..."
He did sort of respect their new co-Captain, even if he was a killer. Megatron just seemed... sad and tired.
"He doesn't deserve that."
no subject
The Sixer's voice takes on a distant quality.
Millions of worlds laid to waste, billions of bodies turned to ash, Cybertronian and otherwise, all placed at the feet of the tyrant, an endless sacrifice for his grand vision. All of it... empty in the end. Their Lord had turned and fled instead of facing the crumbling empire built in his name.
The empire Sixshot had given up his very own personhood to help realize.
Coward.
"Guess none of it really matters in the end anyways," he murmurs.
no subject
His engine idles low, quiet as he speaks.
"Anyone can be monstrous. My old CMO... sawed my friend in half. And why? Because he wanted to get a rile out of Ratchet! His stupid obsession with Ratchet and his stupid hands. There wasn't any point, and he laughed in my face right before I... killed him."
"I never killed anyone before that, but I wanted him to die, and Ratchet would have let him live and go on and on with their endless, stupid, pointless competition. So I killed and it feels... bad, because it goes against everything I've dedicated my life to. I keep thinking that maybe it was all somehow my fault."
And that was roughly when he realized he was pouring his spark out to a weapon of war. What had become of his life?
"I'm... rambling. I'm sorry."
no subject
Everything that comes up is blurry, distant and vague, more a film someone recorded than anything he remembers experiencing. It's disconcerting enough that he just lets the memories sink back into nothingness, shrugging the lingering sense of unrealness off.
The scent was getting stronger anyways, and he can pick up movement and voices in the distance. Cybertronians were a noisy race for the most part and most of the mechs on this planet had not been designed with stealth in mind.
"If he wasn't killed, you would have suffered more," Sixshot says simply, slowing to a stop. "You did well."
"Follow the footprints and the voices." The big mech casts First Aid a quiet sideways look, easing onto his haunches with a lazy stretch. "I hope you find something that will ease your mind."
no subject
He never would have guessed he'd end up pouring his spark out to a Phase Sixer; his chassis aches so much that he can barely think past it. It takes a few shuddering vents for him to focus on the footprints, hear the voices, and he transforms back into his root mode.
"Other people?" Oh, thank Primus. He's had enough of floating and wandering around aimlessly searching for people to last a lifetime. First Aid looks up at Sixshot, placing a hand gently against a leg. "You're not coming?"
no subject
The tiny hand on his foreleg garners a curious look though, and the question an even curiouser one.
"No."
He was a Phase Sixer and not one in the mood to deal with anymore cowering people.
And anyways, there was no one waiting for him there.