Ep. 2 - Strange Attractors - (Closed)
Mar 6, 2017 5:54:19 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2017 5:54:19 GMT -5
The Natural History museum…
The Wrecker searched his memory, visiting the period in his life he avoided dwelling on. He couldn't recall of a place like this, though granted, he'd spent most of his time pre-war over in Crystal City and well, his memory… Yeah, his memory, let's just leave it at that. Suffice to say, he wasn't an Iacon native and knew the city mostly as an Autobot stronghold.
Wheeljack had actually been wondering if somehow they'd managed to find a way into the Academy accidentally. It would have had the funding and the interest in creating such a collection. And even though this place was buried deep, deep down, that could just be a sign of its age. Crystal City's Technoversity had been the same. Institutes with departments and labs and all would be built for the newest, most exciting field of research. Some would take, becoming respectable institutes that lasted for eons ever after until the war had brought everything to a crashing halt. Others flopped and failed, they'd get repurposed by other departments or forgotten, sometimes even built over. There had been unfathomable depths to the place; abandoned labs and strange, archaic equipment, passageways that would lead to some place unexpected -or to nowhere, and even after working there for as long as he had, Wheeljack had known he'd barely scratched the surface.
So, the Wrecker figured, it wasn't too much of a stretch to hope that maybe, just maybe, after this long, tiring and very, very strange day, that at last something had gone right for once.
Still, he wasn't about to voice his suspicions. This was Iacon, for all Wheeljack knew, they'd stumbled upon the private collection of a wealthy Towerling or a member of the High Council.
"The only good scraplet's a dead one in my opinion," Wheeljack replied as he trundled over to the next panel. He didn't share Tailspin's discomfort with the place. Perhaps, it had to do with knowing most of these creatures more as distant concepts and then, with the war...well, that had made him quite accustomed unfortunately with that whole 'extinction' thing. If anything, this place was an unexpected and valuable glimpse into Cybertron's long forgotten past.
He shot a look over his shoulder, one optic ridge arched in amusement. "From that whole business earlier, it kinda gave me the impression that you hated roto-rats," Wheeljack said, in the pause of Tailspin's rant.
The amusement faded a moment later at the captain's reaction, confused and lost before heading for the window Wheeljack had just vacated. That...hadn't been what Wheeljack was expecting when he'd brought up the equinoid. He'd made the comment in jest, remembering what Tailspin had said earlier about riding one.
Wheeljack hadn't really believed the mech then. For the most part, he'd mentally shrugged and gone 'whatever'. The day he was having made him open to entertaining the possibility that it might be true but that was miles away from actually believing anything Tailspin said without some form of evidence.
But of all things to make Wheeljack believe a smidgeon of Tailspin's mythical sounding past, he wouldn't have laid credits on it being Tailspin's very real reaction to a horse in a display case.
A horse that he recognised and had known the owner.
Those emotions, shock, disgust, anger, distress over the fate of the equinoid, those weren't feigned - and if they were, what even would be the point? Tailspin couldn't have possibly known they'd stumble upon this place, there was nothing to be gained by carrying out the charade. Wheeljack's idle jest had unknowingly stabbed at a piece of Tailspin's past.
He frowned, unsure of how to take this and looked towards the last window to distract himself, if only for a moment with the sight of what surely would be yet another long dead animal. The Wrecker did not witness the strange synchronisation between Bolt's optics and Tailspin's wings, his angle was completely wrong for it.
Inside the pane...was not an another mounted animal. It was an office. The Wrecker paused, confused. He blinked and looked again.
The office was gone. Black walls, like the other display cases where the holographic displays had failed. And, as his optics adjusted, inside were three figures. No animals. Actual people, and they were alive.
The first one, Wheeljack recognised. He knew that black paint and those dark optics, even though their acquaintance had been a brief one. Psi. He'd survived the unexpected flood of coolant that separated the two, ripping Psi away and washing him down Cybertron's bowels.
Seeing the blind mech here told the Wrecker that his suspicions were on the mark about this place. Psi had said...yeah, the survivors had bunkered down in the lower levels of the Academy and the undergrid. Bolt's interruption had turned out to be an unexpected boon, bringing them here.
The company that Psi was keeping though, Wheeljack didn't recognise. There was a medic to one side, a big, burly one with a red and white paintjob. The blue optics suggested Autobot but Wheeljack couldn't make out a faction sigil from where he was. It wasn't all Autobots in the Academy, Psi had said, it had been a mix of the Academy faculty members and Autobot survivors.
The third member to this little meeting Wheeljack was looking in on was a tall, dark gray and black femme. Mud was splattered along her long legs and from underneath her neck, there was a strip of metal that split into two and rose above her shoulders. The two points pricked and shifted as she spoke.
A sudden but tiny burst of light appeared near Psi's fingertips and for a moment, the Wrecker regretted not interrogating Psi more about himself, because there had been all sorts of weirdness about the mech. Mountains and mountains of strangeness. Especially during and after the fight with the Leaper. But there really, really hadn't been time and Wheeljack had decided not to question it too deeply, in case prodding Psi would cause the mech to withdraw or end the mystery interference that had saved Wheeljack's life twice. He'd been content to roll with what had been given and figured answers could wait for later.
Except now he had no idea what was happening and also, the third member of this gathering seemed to be looking his way.
Wheeljack had been completely distracted by all of this and had tuned out what Tailspin was up to.
Something slammed behind him.
Then the world shattered and went dark.
The Wrecker searched his memory, visiting the period in his life he avoided dwelling on. He couldn't recall of a place like this, though granted, he'd spent most of his time pre-war over in Crystal City and well, his memory… Yeah, his memory, let's just leave it at that. Suffice to say, he wasn't an Iacon native and knew the city mostly as an Autobot stronghold.
Wheeljack had actually been wondering if somehow they'd managed to find a way into the Academy accidentally. It would have had the funding and the interest in creating such a collection. And even though this place was buried deep, deep down, that could just be a sign of its age. Crystal City's Technoversity had been the same. Institutes with departments and labs and all would be built for the newest, most exciting field of research. Some would take, becoming respectable institutes that lasted for eons ever after until the war had brought everything to a crashing halt. Others flopped and failed, they'd get repurposed by other departments or forgotten, sometimes even built over. There had been unfathomable depths to the place; abandoned labs and strange, archaic equipment, passageways that would lead to some place unexpected -or to nowhere, and even after working there for as long as he had, Wheeljack had known he'd barely scratched the surface.
So, the Wrecker figured, it wasn't too much of a stretch to hope that maybe, just maybe, after this long, tiring and very, very strange day, that at last something had gone right for once.
Still, he wasn't about to voice his suspicions. This was Iacon, for all Wheeljack knew, they'd stumbled upon the private collection of a wealthy Towerling or a member of the High Council.
"The only good scraplet's a dead one in my opinion," Wheeljack replied as he trundled over to the next panel. He didn't share Tailspin's discomfort with the place. Perhaps, it had to do with knowing most of these creatures more as distant concepts and then, with the war...well, that had made him quite accustomed unfortunately with that whole 'extinction' thing. If anything, this place was an unexpected and valuable glimpse into Cybertron's long forgotten past.
He shot a look over his shoulder, one optic ridge arched in amusement. "From that whole business earlier, it kinda gave me the impression that you hated roto-rats," Wheeljack said, in the pause of Tailspin's rant.
The amusement faded a moment later at the captain's reaction, confused and lost before heading for the window Wheeljack had just vacated. That...hadn't been what Wheeljack was expecting when he'd brought up the equinoid. He'd made the comment in jest, remembering what Tailspin had said earlier about riding one.
Wheeljack hadn't really believed the mech then. For the most part, he'd mentally shrugged and gone 'whatever'. The day he was having made him open to entertaining the possibility that it might be true but that was miles away from actually believing anything Tailspin said without some form of evidence.
But of all things to make Wheeljack believe a smidgeon of Tailspin's mythical sounding past, he wouldn't have laid credits on it being Tailspin's very real reaction to a horse in a display case.
A horse that he recognised and had known the owner.
Those emotions, shock, disgust, anger, distress over the fate of the equinoid, those weren't feigned - and if they were, what even would be the point? Tailspin couldn't have possibly known they'd stumble upon this place, there was nothing to be gained by carrying out the charade. Wheeljack's idle jest had unknowingly stabbed at a piece of Tailspin's past.
He frowned, unsure of how to take this and looked towards the last window to distract himself, if only for a moment with the sight of what surely would be yet another long dead animal. The Wrecker did not witness the strange synchronisation between Bolt's optics and Tailspin's wings, his angle was completely wrong for it.
Inside the pane...was not an another mounted animal. It was an office. The Wrecker paused, confused. He blinked and looked again.
The office was gone. Black walls, like the other display cases where the holographic displays had failed. And, as his optics adjusted, inside were three figures. No animals. Actual people, and they were alive.
The first one, Wheeljack recognised. He knew that black paint and those dark optics, even though their acquaintance had been a brief one. Psi. He'd survived the unexpected flood of coolant that separated the two, ripping Psi away and washing him down Cybertron's bowels.
Seeing the blind mech here told the Wrecker that his suspicions were on the mark about this place. Psi had said...yeah, the survivors had bunkered down in the lower levels of the Academy and the undergrid. Bolt's interruption had turned out to be an unexpected boon, bringing them here.
The company that Psi was keeping though, Wheeljack didn't recognise. There was a medic to one side, a big, burly one with a red and white paintjob. The blue optics suggested Autobot but Wheeljack couldn't make out a faction sigil from where he was. It wasn't all Autobots in the Academy, Psi had said, it had been a mix of the Academy faculty members and Autobot survivors.
The third member to this little meeting Wheeljack was looking in on was a tall, dark gray and black femme. Mud was splattered along her long legs and from underneath her neck, there was a strip of metal that split into two and rose above her shoulders. The two points pricked and shifted as she spoke.
A sudden but tiny burst of light appeared near Psi's fingertips and for a moment, the Wrecker regretted not interrogating Psi more about himself, because there had been all sorts of weirdness about the mech. Mountains and mountains of strangeness. Especially during and after the fight with the Leaper. But there really, really hadn't been time and Wheeljack had decided not to question it too deeply, in case prodding Psi would cause the mech to withdraw or end the mystery interference that had saved Wheeljack's life twice. He'd been content to roll with what had been given and figured answers could wait for later.
Except now he had no idea what was happening and also, the third member of this gathering seemed to be looking his way.
Wheeljack had been completely distracted by all of this and had tuned out what Tailspin was up to.
Something slammed behind him.
Then the world shattered and went dark.
Finished at last!
(Thanks for sticking with me on this ridiculous, wild ride, Felds!)
(And for letting Wheeljack ride a space slug! ;D)
(And thanks to Lex for helping Felds finish this off!)
(Thanks for sticking with me on this ridiculous, wild ride, Felds!)
(And for letting Wheeljack ride a space slug! ;D)
(And thanks to Lex for helping Felds finish this off!)