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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2023 4:10:35 GMT
Characters Appearing: @spinoff, OPEN Location (s): Spinoff's makeshift cave base in the woods Timeline: March 7th Plot Summary: Spinoff doesn't want to go outside.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2023 4:11:04 GMT
Spinoff despises leaving their base. Not that it can be considered much of a base at all… A cave with the large furry organics kicked out to do their disgusting organic things elsewhere is not exactly the sturdy walls and soldiers on guard they had grown accustomed to over the course of the war. But as grimy as it might be, it had been keeping them hidden without a single scratch over the years- A feat they were incredibly grateful for.
Their supply of Energon was running dangerously low. This event would make any sane Cybertronian drop all their things and look for the neon substance, albeit Spinoff is not really a sane Cybertronian anymore. Currently, they lie on the bumpy mineral floor, staring at the ceiling, hoping that maybe it’ll collapse in on them and speed up the process. As much as they fear death, they fear going outside more.
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Post by Nightshroud on Aug 8, 2023 23:58:22 GMT
Nightshroud really needed to get away from the base for a little bit to clear her thoughts.
Starscream was angry with Soundwave after kidnapping that human brat, and at first Nightshroud had been silently elated. Maybe this would be that push to get Soundwave to leave with the Cassetticons and they'd finally leave her alone. Leave them alone and things could be like they used to be, however.. she quickly realized it wasn't going to be that. Despite the mech's annoyance, she could tell there was some sadness. She did what she could to distract him, but the longer this little spat continued.. the more she started to feel regret. Maybe she shouldn't have been so excited at first. Her sire had told her that he wanted Soundwave to be his conjunx, and maybe there was a part of her that wanted the two of them to make up already.
But the crimson seeker felt like she couldn't say it because if she could somehow help Starscream make up with Soundwave, her own situation with Clematis would get brought up and she didn't want to think about that right now. Those feelings with her sister were already complicated enough as it was.
And so she had gone out for a flight just to take her mind off of things for a bit. She at the very least told her sire she was going out for a little bit and checked in on the hour so that he knew she was safe, but it was nice to just escape it all even for a little bit. However as she flew over the woods she picked up an energy signature; not one she knew. In slight frustration, Nightshroud decided to check it out to see if they were at least a Decepticon, and she only grew more annoyed when she figured out the signal was coming from inside a cave. There was no way she was going to just waltz right on in. What if it was a trap?
"Who's in there?!" Maybe a bit more hostile than she meant, but she wanted to keep her guard up just in case.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 18, 2023 12:49:49 GMT
Their voice box strains itself greatly, barely managing to push out a squeak as they hear the terrifying voice. They prop themselves up; the grinding of their partially rusted joints bounces off the walls of the cave and out its mouth, and they curse themselves for not taking care of that problem sooner. How ironic, they think- The cause of the mute Decepticon’s death would be making too much noise. It would make for a good story in the afterlife, at least.
There was no use running away; there wasn’t even anywhere to run in the first place. Maybe if they surrendered to whoever it was, they’d be so kind as to give the psychologist a quick, easy, mostly painless way out.
Spinoff stands up fully (their plating creaks loudly again, and they grimace, but what does it matter, when they’ll be offline soon enough) and walks out towards the voice with drooped wings and raised arms.
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Post by Nightshroud on Sept 20, 2023 1:07:02 GMT
Nightshroud stood her ground, pulling out her scimitar as she gripped it tightly in her servo. It wasn't even just the potential threat keeping her from waltzing straight into the cave, but hesitancy in the back of her processor. The femme didn't like being in tight spaces if she could avoid them, and the last thing she wanted to do was go in there and get trapped or something. She finally got rid of those Uraya nightmares and she didn't want them back. At some point she knew that she wasn't going to be able avoid it, but luckily enough that wasn't going to be the case for the moment as the occupant of the cave came out with servos raised and wings drooped.
They were already surrendering.
But were they really? Nightshroud was skeptical and every part of her processor was screaming that this was a trap; to look as defenseless as possible until she dropped her own guard only to then get jumped. The crimson seeker huffed in annoyance, optics narrowing as she didn't budge.
[‘Ping’] ['Now, be logical about this Seekerling.']
Closing her optics, the crimson seeker could recall Starscream's words from a few months ago. Be logical. Be logical and don't jump to irrational conclusions. Nightshroud let out a long ex-vent, letting her optics reopen with a much calmer expression as her servo holding the weapon relaxed slightly. She studied the other bot noting their Decepticon insignia. Strange how they were so quick to just surrender like that, but it was hard to willingly let herself believe it wasn't some sort of trap. Hesitantly with a slightly shaky servo, the femme withdrew her blade. "Put your servos down." There was so much temptation to say they weren't even worth the fight, but she managed to fight back that urge.
"Why are you here?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2023 6:46:25 GMT
Spinoff squinted at their attacker(?). Whoever they were, they were difficult to see, with the sun on their back shrouding their figure in the dark. It made them appear like one large, bot-shaped silhouette with two piercing red spots for optics. Absolutely terrifying, for a start, but somewhere amongst the black and the crimson, the psychologist noted a glimmer of purple on their shoulder.
The Decepticon insignia.
Not guaranteed safety, of course; a majority of their fellow Decepticons happened to be highly unstable (with good reason, mind you, a war that lasted millennia and dragged the entire species away from their home planet was not exactly something to sneeze at). Still, Spinoff held back the relieved grin that tugged at their lips upon this recognition. Someone they could trust! To an extent of about 57% percent! What more could a bot ask for?
They lowered their arms, bringing their communication device in front of them. Their claws clacked against its keys hesitantly, until finally they typed their reply. Ah, how they missed the sound of their ‘voice’…
“I have been taking refuge here for approximately-“ They paused and furrowed their optic ridges. How long had it been? “A while. I had to be rid of the organics, of course, but it has not been entirely horrible. My energon reserves were about to run out, so I was just about to leave and attempt a extraction…” They lied.
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Post by Nightshroud on Oct 13, 2023 10:54:34 GMT
It was almost ironic that Nightshroud had been one of those highly unstable Decepticons. The difference was that Starscream had become her coping mechanism, helping to keep her calm and rational to some degree. She needed him to feel sane, but it felt like he was the only bot in the world she needed. She didn't need anyone else, so she was very reluctant to give anyone else the time of day. Mire had been a moment of desperation, but then she'd left and that had put the femme back at nothing.
['Ping'] ['Promise me one thing however. Don’t let this make you close up again. It’s important to have relationships of all kind to stay sane, my sparkling.']
Except Starscream had already said something about that, hadn't he. His words flooded into her processor. He really was the only one she had, and she'd refused to let Soundwave in; in fact she was glad she hadn't given the Spymaster's blunder. Nightshroud had no friends, and despite Clematis' best efforts to reach out and try to mend things.. Starscream was all Nightshroud had. Without him she felt completely alone, and she was absolutely terrfied of that feeling. She couldn't feel that again. She wouldn't. She'd keep her sire safe so the both of them could feel safe.
But for now there was this strange Decepticon before the crimson seeker. Nightshroud watched as they lowered their arms before tapping at something. She wasn't entirely sure what it was they were doing, but when a voice emitted from the device it became clear. They couldn't speak and this was how they got around that. Certainly better than the obnoxious beeping some bots did, but to each their own. Whoever this bot was, they'd apparently been here for some time and were running low on energon reserves. She knew that feeling well, and it'd been an energon run that allowed her to be where she was today. The simple offering of energon quickly turned into a permanent home and feeling safe for the first time since.. ever.
Maybe this once she could pay that kindness forward, but just this once.
Nightshroud opened her storage, pulling out an energon cube and holding it out to Spinoff. "I once was in a similar position, starving and in need of energon.. so I will offer you the same that was offered to me: this cube of energon for a story."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 19, 2023 3:47:41 GMT
‘This cube of energon for a story.’
Spinoff let the femme’s words simmer in their mind. What an odd thing to request. Most other times (that they’d heard of during idle warrior’s chatter, they didn’t exactly go out to do fieldwork too often) it was intel, or weapons, or money, or perhaps even lives- But stories? A fascinating concept. The jet could not help but wonder what stories the other Decepticon had experienced, to make her ask such a peculiar thing of them.
The thought that came crashing down on them almost immediately was to refuse. They did not consider themselves to be the extroverted sort, the kind of bot who simply just kept stories in their processor, ready to be dispatched at any given time. If anything they were the exact opposite; a reclusive shut in who tried to avoid interactions by any and all means possible.
Spinoff stared at the cube of energon as Nightshroud brought it out before them, and it dawned on them just how empty, how weak they felt. Their wings fluttered in hesitation. One story couldn’t do any harm. They probably needed the interaction, anyway; prolonged isolation never tended to turn out well. The psychologist sighed before taking the cube from the femme’s servos. They allowed themselves a few short sips, then sat on the cave floor and placed the half-empty cube beside them.
“I suppose that you might be curious in regards to my… affliction.” They lifted their servo and scratched at their neck. Strange, to think underneath all that plating and wiring was a voicebox that had never been used. “Most that I come across tend to be. They like to assume I was damaged in a battle or subjected to some horrible experiment or whatever other tragic fantasies they make up, but it’s nothing so dramatic. I’ve been like this since- Since forever, really. I was just built different. Built wrong.”
They exhaled and fidgeted with a few other buttons on their device. It was difficult, to say the least, trudging through their own mental muck- Usually it was other people's. They never liked to look back that far. “Well, not wrong, per se, but that’s what some people seemed to think. I was forged on Luna 2, alongside a handful of others. There they were, a bunch of protoforms chatting away and there I was, wondering why I couldn’t do the same. As soon as they noticed my condition, they treated me like some kind of toy, to poke and prod and play with until they were satisfied. The caretaker there wasn’t too much help. She liked to say that we were all young and they’d grow out of it and that we were all learning- And I suppose she did have a point. The others were learning about star systems and transformation, and I was learning how to hide their carvings on my wings.”
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Post by Nightshroud on Oct 19, 2023 13:08:33 GMT
Built wrong.
For as coldly as she watched, listening to Spinoff's story Nightshroud couldn't suppress the urge to react to that statement with optics widening somewhat. She knew what it was like to be made wrong, though not in the way that Spinoff had described. Whatever was 'wrong' with them, it prevented them from speaking normally and so the others of Luna 2 picked on them for it. That's exactly why she never wanted to tell others of her desires to change back when she had wheels. She didn't need that kind of attention from others, not to mention it was highly frowned upon in their society to begin with. That was your chosen form so you had to stick with it, but she hadn't wanted wheels. She didn't know what she wanted back then, so she went along with what Clematis wanted and in the end she wasn't happy with it.
"I know something about being 'built wrong'. To have an alt-mode but feel like it wasn't what you were meant to be." The fact that she was even telling Spinoff this was a big deal even if the other didn't realize that. Nightshroud didn't like telling others about her original form, but something felt different... like she could relate to some degree. "I had to seek out illegal underground facilities to get my body reformatted so I could have wings. I was made with wheels, but they never felt right. I'd always thought I was built wrong, too."
Nightshroud sighed, crossing her arms as she continued to speak. "Did you ever get back at them for making fun of you? Ever want to?"
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