[ 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

don't talk to me about UNFORGIVABLE

[bekind]

The longer this conversation goes on the sicker Rewind feels -- because regardless of his (overwhelmingly negative) feelings towards Prowl, that's a horrible thing to happen to anyone. To be used as a tool, to be manipulated like that...it chills Rewind to the core, makes him think of what Tarn and the D.J.D. had done to Chromedome and to him, in nothing more than little flickers because he can't allow himself to remember any more than that right now. That's not the same thing as what happened to Prowl, and he knows that, but it's the only thing he has to compare to it and even just with that, Rewind is horrified. He's never cared for Prowl at all, but no one should ever have to go through something like that.

But Rewind's still too stunned and too outraged at Prowl's accusation to vocalize any of that. He just takes a step back, almost defensively. "You still don't know it was Chromedome!"

(((((((((((((((:

[pffft]

Rewind's reaction telegraphs enough to Prowl to let him know the damage had already been done. He'd managed to cleave something in between them, and that's all he needed to do for now.

Prowl allows a somber resignation to enter his features. He needn't explain anything. After all, it's not like a victim of mnemosurgery would actually be expected to recount an exact and logical timeline of what happened.

"No, I don't have a neat presentation prepared to try and convince you. I'm not even sure what's missing. But that type of skill isn't commmon, and there's only one Autobot I'd know who was on New Iacon and had the skill to attack my memories."

you monster

[bekind]

As much as Rewind really can't stand Prowl, it's...hard for him to want to keep pressing the point here. Rewind's spark is heavy with grief over Chromedome, but he's still sensitive enough to know just how fucking horrifying this is. He realizes it's unfair to expect Prowl to give him a solid answer, but the possibility that it might have been Chromedome is still dizzying.

"Look, I'm..." Rewind's voice is thick with static, his voice distant even to his own audials. The words are a labor. "I'm sorry that happened to you. That's awful. But I -- " He stops himself, because this argument is getting nowhere and the longer it goes the worse he feels. And he's still reeling from everything that happened before, everything he remembers. "...I'm sorry."

Rewind still looks incredibly sick, though, and on top of that Prowl's initial comment is starting to nag at him now, the more he tries to push the whole mnemosurgery thing out of his mind.

grinch smile

[pffft]

"Don't be. I didn't tell you this because I wanted you to apologize for Chromedome's behavior."

He crosses his arms, quiet for a moment. As much as he'd pulled and bent the facts he knew for this, a lot of it was genuine anger and frustration. Anger at Chromedome for using his ability against him, anger at the Autobots he told it to who could really care less. Disappointment. Silent, caustic rage. Nothing new.

The fact that Rewind had a reaction at all was a welcome change.

"But you, of all people, should be aware of the things he's been up to behind your back."

[bekind]

Rewind's still sick with the horror of it all, even feeling kind of sorry for Prowl, but his visor flashes at that, a chill running through his lines.

"Don't," he grinds out, "don't talk like -- you don't have any business talking about him like that to me."

He wants out of this conversation. He'd thought maybe he could get some answers out of Prowl, find out where he is and how he got here -- but instead Rewind feels like he might void a tank. He shakes his head, takes a few unsteady steps back. This is too much.