[ti]Ep 2[/ti] - Some Assembly Required - [Closed]
Apr 5, 2016 2:22:42 GMT -5
Post by Flatline on Apr 5, 2016 2:22:42 GMT -5
Episode 2 | Week 4 | Day 2
As horrible as the Caste system was, there was no denying the fact that for some Cybertronian it simply worked out. Many were unhappy in their roles in life, many wanted to pursue new opportunities, and they should be PERMITTED that right! But... there were also many that fell into their roles seamlessly, and other jobs never really had the same feeling of belonging. It was this dilemma that was plaguing Flatline, and it was this he was taking one day at a time.
Having worked as a sparkling manufacturer for most of his time on Cybertron, Flatline was accustomed to creating frames and bodies, able to present the husks to the All-Spark and effectively create life that continued on to live out their own lives. There was a sort of joy and pride in being able to accomplish such a feat, and he was arrogantly proud to say that he was capable of doing so. But... when the All-Spark vanished, it became futile.
No spark meant things just never lined up, and the most complex of AI just didn't function properly. Whether it was just the unique energy of a spark, or if it was some mystical nonsense the religious individuals on the old planet preached wasn't apparent, point was new life was seemingly impossible, and Flatline had made it a personal goal to rectify this.
Make Sparklings?... no... no he would not curse the warship with such an overpriced and foolish burden. He was intending to construct a full frame Cybertronian from struts to optics, and try to find a loophole to get around the All-Spark issue and give Megatron new soldiers.
So Flatline worked, and dedicated a lot of time to trying to flesh out the issue. He salvaged bits and pieces of parts from deceased Eradicons, and was updating and bouncing off of them to get a head start. He knew if he had to construct a spark chamber from scratch, it would probably take a couple years to do perfectly, and he would need to be on Earth and not in a moving ship that could make a wayward tool etch and sheer through the minute lines. It is because of this the rough framework of a Cybertronian was... somewhat made... and was lying upon the surgical table.
It looked like it had been fished out of a smelting pit, the outer layers of its frame peeled away so that recognizing it as having once been an Eradicon was essentially impossible. All that remained was the core elements of a torso, its internal components pulled out to set down around it on the slab, with cables and wires stringing all back into the voided central cavity. The components were all worn down, battered, Energon, oil, and coolant drained out and dry, but the spark chamber was intact. While it was voided out and empty, its last occupant long gone, it appeared whole and freshly cleaned.
Flatline was standing beside this corpse, moving the overhead light down to hover directly above the work area. The light was a massive disk, creating a piercing beam that shone through the darkness of the lab with cutting viciousness. A few spindly arms branched off from the lights base, each one wielding a tool that could be applicable in any number of situations. The majority of the spider like limbs were folded up and out of the way, but one was extended down with a tray attached, where tiny bits of grit and debris were being placed as Flatline prepped and worked on cleaning the spark chamber in its entirety.
His actions were meticulous, and for all point and case the world around him was dead. He paid no mind to his immediate surroundings, and focused only upon the minute movements of his secondary hands that could maneuver with far more dexterity than his primaries. His primaries clutched the edge of the medical slab, keeping himself completely stationary. He wasn't even keeping track of auditory cues of what was going on around him, some filler music playing from a nearby radio that cut through the silence as the light cut through darkness.
To say he was focused was an understatement.
As horrible as the Caste system was, there was no denying the fact that for some Cybertronian it simply worked out. Many were unhappy in their roles in life, many wanted to pursue new opportunities, and they should be PERMITTED that right! But... there were also many that fell into their roles seamlessly, and other jobs never really had the same feeling of belonging. It was this dilemma that was plaguing Flatline, and it was this he was taking one day at a time.
Having worked as a sparkling manufacturer for most of his time on Cybertron, Flatline was accustomed to creating frames and bodies, able to present the husks to the All-Spark and effectively create life that continued on to live out their own lives. There was a sort of joy and pride in being able to accomplish such a feat, and he was arrogantly proud to say that he was capable of doing so. But... when the All-Spark vanished, it became futile.
No spark meant things just never lined up, and the most complex of AI just didn't function properly. Whether it was just the unique energy of a spark, or if it was some mystical nonsense the religious individuals on the old planet preached wasn't apparent, point was new life was seemingly impossible, and Flatline had made it a personal goal to rectify this.
Make Sparklings?... no... no he would not curse the warship with such an overpriced and foolish burden. He was intending to construct a full frame Cybertronian from struts to optics, and try to find a loophole to get around the All-Spark issue and give Megatron new soldiers.
So Flatline worked, and dedicated a lot of time to trying to flesh out the issue. He salvaged bits and pieces of parts from deceased Eradicons, and was updating and bouncing off of them to get a head start. He knew if he had to construct a spark chamber from scratch, it would probably take a couple years to do perfectly, and he would need to be on Earth and not in a moving ship that could make a wayward tool etch and sheer through the minute lines. It is because of this the rough framework of a Cybertronian was... somewhat made... and was lying upon the surgical table.
It looked like it had been fished out of a smelting pit, the outer layers of its frame peeled away so that recognizing it as having once been an Eradicon was essentially impossible. All that remained was the core elements of a torso, its internal components pulled out to set down around it on the slab, with cables and wires stringing all back into the voided central cavity. The components were all worn down, battered, Energon, oil, and coolant drained out and dry, but the spark chamber was intact. While it was voided out and empty, its last occupant long gone, it appeared whole and freshly cleaned.
Flatline was standing beside this corpse, moving the overhead light down to hover directly above the work area. The light was a massive disk, creating a piercing beam that shone through the darkness of the lab with cutting viciousness. A few spindly arms branched off from the lights base, each one wielding a tool that could be applicable in any number of situations. The majority of the spider like limbs were folded up and out of the way, but one was extended down with a tray attached, where tiny bits of grit and debris were being placed as Flatline prepped and worked on cleaning the spark chamber in its entirety.
His actions were meticulous, and for all point and case the world around him was dead. He paid no mind to his immediate surroundings, and focused only upon the minute movements of his secondary hands that could maneuver with far more dexterity than his primaries. His primaries clutched the edge of the medical slab, keeping himself completely stationary. He wasn't even keeping track of auditory cues of what was going on around him, some filler music playing from a nearby radio that cut through the silence as the light cut through darkness.
To say he was focused was an understatement.