Dirge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dirge) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thirdfaction2014-10-29 03:28 pm
dirge) wrote in thirdfaction2014-10-29 03:28 pm
Back to Axiom
Everything is static and your optics don't work very well, or maybe they are crusted with dust, and something encloses you on all sides, tight and rough.... Is that brick? You haven't felt this particular texture in a long time, as there are only two places you've ever been that use such a primitive building foundation.
Two giant hands close around your wrists, dragging you painfully forward into the light with hurried jerks that make your ruined joints ache. Through the static you can hear their voices, muttering to each other, low and guttural. They smell faintly of grease and dried energon and you know they aren't kindly passerby that intend on helping you. In fact, one of them might have mentioned something about taking you apart for spares...
A communication device clicks on, you can tell this by the humming sound it makes in the air as particles rearrange themselves. There's grunting from the thugs that hold you and a sharp intake of breath from whoever is on the other side of the screen.
"Well, well. Back again, are we?" The voice is sharp and grossly smug, and maybe if you could hear better you could figure out why it sounds so familiar.
"I want him." Talons snap and the device goes silent. Or maybe your audials have finally gone out. Either way, your two new friends start to drag you forward again and the lurching is too much for your ruined systems to take. You succumb to your namesake and everything is dark once again.
When you awaken and reboot your optics, you find yourself alone in a brightly lit room. The sheer gaudiness of the decoration and hideously clashing color scheme of the walls make you wish your optics hadn't been repaired. Wait, repaired? Yes, you are repaired. And cleaned. Everything works, save that you are still low on energon. And scorponok is gone. The dock on your back where he had previously been huddled is ominously empty. Did they repair him too? You better hope, because last you knew his life signs were so faint that he'd been forced to share your power to survive.
A huge screen on the right wall suddenly flicks on, the picture proceeded by a musical tone and a logo. The camera shows a grin filled with sharp teeth before zooming out.
"Blackout. How nice of you to return."
And suddenly you remember why the voice from before was familiar.
It's Dirge, smiling with talons interlaced as he waits for your reply.
Two giant hands close around your wrists, dragging you painfully forward into the light with hurried jerks that make your ruined joints ache. Through the static you can hear their voices, muttering to each other, low and guttural. They smell faintly of grease and dried energon and you know they aren't kindly passerby that intend on helping you. In fact, one of them might have mentioned something about taking you apart for spares...
A communication device clicks on, you can tell this by the humming sound it makes in the air as particles rearrange themselves. There's grunting from the thugs that hold you and a sharp intake of breath from whoever is on the other side of the screen.
"Well, well. Back again, are we?" The voice is sharp and grossly smug, and maybe if you could hear better you could figure out why it sounds so familiar.
"I want him." Talons snap and the device goes silent. Or maybe your audials have finally gone out. Either way, your two new friends start to drag you forward again and the lurching is too much for your ruined systems to take. You succumb to your namesake and everything is dark once again.
When you awaken and reboot your optics, you find yourself alone in a brightly lit room. The sheer gaudiness of the decoration and hideously clashing color scheme of the walls make you wish your optics hadn't been repaired. Wait, repaired? Yes, you are repaired. And cleaned. Everything works, save that you are still low on energon. And scorponok is gone. The dock on your back where he had previously been huddled is ominously empty. Did they repair him too? You better hope, because last you knew his life signs were so faint that he'd been forced to share your power to survive.
A huge screen on the right wall suddenly flicks on, the picture proceeded by a musical tone and a logo. The camera shows a grin filled with sharp teeth before zooming out.
"Blackout. How nice of you to return."
And suddenly you remember why the voice from before was familiar.
It's Dirge, smiling with talons interlaced as he waits for your reply.
no subject
But of course he did. He didn't know any better yet, now did he?
"As I said, a very long time. Long enough for Magnum," he omits the 'lord' part, though he's never included it before, "to find some other brilliant processors to finish the project for him. Correctly, this time."
The teal clone's talons lace together, his shoulders shaking slightly. Considerable effort is being put forth to keep himself from ruining his next lovely information bomb. It must be positioned carefully and directly above the helicopter's spark for maximum impact.
"Magnum has gone home."
His shoulders shake a little more violently and the manic laughter crawling up his throat tickles like something fierce. No, not yet. One more thing first.
"Without you."