Ep: 0.5 "Memorial" - Open
Feb 14, 2012 15:40:31 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 14, 2012 15:40:31 GMT -5
The desert winds howled in the high noon sun. The heat shimmered and distorted the far horizon. A loner biker cruises an empty sand-drifted road. A road as empty as her spark echoed at the given moment.
Diverting off the main road, the bike traveled over bare desert dirt, bouncing off rocks laying in her awake. Tires spun in overdrive, hitting a rocky and uneven incline to a small plateau overlook. Reaching the top, the dust-covered idled in the searing heat, a welcomed warmth to strut-weary hydraulics. A lone pile of rocks sat nearby at the edge of the lookout, waiting.
“Hey, partner,” the bike called out, transforming into the slim blue figure that was Arcee, “been a while, hasn’t it?”
She sauntered on over to the primitive marker. She knelt down beside it, readjusting a toppled rock. Rising she gazed out to the plain, taking in the awing view. The small city of Jasper bordered the edge of the horizon continuing on with its own business.
“Wish I could say, I came to reminisce today,” she said with ease, Cliffjumper always had that affect with her, “but I’ve got some other cohorts to see off.”
Cliffjumper’s memorial rested on a small plateau only a few miles from base. Close enough to sneak away to without bothering with the ground bridge and the drive permitted her time to think.
Arcee turned around, searching for the shady alcove she found on her last visit. A section of shear rock where the red sandstone had long weathered away, revealing a patch of solid smooth granite. She laid a servo over it, the stone cool underneath away from the direct rays of the unforgiving sun. The side of her faceplates pressed into the rock side, optics closed, drowning in the chilling sensation on her dermalsensors. Her olfactories registered the damp and dust.
All thoughts tied up in current events and past ones evaporated from mind for a short while. For the first time in a long time, Arcee felt the tension leave her overdriven frame and simply let the tough girl act drop.
With a small peace of mind, Arcee called out her blades and began etching the outline of various cybertonian glyphs in the granite rock surrounded by red stone. Only the sound of her chiseling echoed in the area for hours.
Diverting off the main road, the bike traveled over bare desert dirt, bouncing off rocks laying in her awake. Tires spun in overdrive, hitting a rocky and uneven incline to a small plateau overlook. Reaching the top, the dust-covered idled in the searing heat, a welcomed warmth to strut-weary hydraulics. A lone pile of rocks sat nearby at the edge of the lookout, waiting.
“Hey, partner,” the bike called out, transforming into the slim blue figure that was Arcee, “been a while, hasn’t it?”
She sauntered on over to the primitive marker. She knelt down beside it, readjusting a toppled rock. Rising she gazed out to the plain, taking in the awing view. The small city of Jasper bordered the edge of the horizon continuing on with its own business.
“Wish I could say, I came to reminisce today,” she said with ease, Cliffjumper always had that affect with her, “but I’ve got some other cohorts to see off.”
Cliffjumper’s memorial rested on a small plateau only a few miles from base. Close enough to sneak away to without bothering with the ground bridge and the drive permitted her time to think.
Arcee turned around, searching for the shady alcove she found on her last visit. A section of shear rock where the red sandstone had long weathered away, revealing a patch of solid smooth granite. She laid a servo over it, the stone cool underneath away from the direct rays of the unforgiving sun. The side of her faceplates pressed into the rock side, optics closed, drowning in the chilling sensation on her dermalsensors. Her olfactories registered the damp and dust.
All thoughts tied up in current events and past ones evaporated from mind for a short while. For the first time in a long time, Arcee felt the tension leave her overdriven frame and simply let the tough girl act drop.
With a small peace of mind, Arcee called out her blades and began etching the outline of various cybertonian glyphs in the granite rock surrounded by red stone. Only the sound of her chiseling echoed in the area for hours.