Ep. 1.5 - Musical Interlude - Closed
Oct 22, 2012 0:09:08 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2012 0:09:08 GMT -5
What a remarkable place.
His footsteps quiet on the rock floor, Smokescreen wandered. Light flickered on the walls. He could feel fresh air flowing through the tunnels, bringing with it the sense of great and open spaces somewhere ahead, unseen among the caverns. It was oddly comforting.
The tactician strolled at an easy pace, his hands folded behind his back. Frankly, he had no idea where he was, had gotten himself good and lost shortly after leaving the ground bridge. Light-heartedly, he brushed off any concern. He had made a silent note to himself to find an excuse to visit the African Neutral base after its existence had been revealed to him upon the return of Optimus Prime and the other Autobots. And now he was here. This was not a time for worry, but for a little exploration. And, perhaps, a little self-reflection as well.
Smokescreen hoped he would not be missed back at the Autobot base. At least things seemed quiet there for the moment. Tense, but quiet. It was good to get away, if only for a day. A little of the melancholia that had pursued him since the fateful bombing of the shuttle had crept back upon him as of late, evoked perhaps by the Autobot personnel files he had been studying since arriving on the base. So many unhappy histories to sift through. He always tried to remain detached while reading such things, but it leaked through in small ways. An opportunity to diplomatically visit the Neutrals seemed as good a way as any to dispel a bleak mood. And his curiosity in their status was genuine.
To be honest, he liked Neutrals. He had established a lot of good relations with them in the past, partly out of professional duty. And bad relations too, to his regret. But as a sociable 'bot by nature, he enjoyed any opportunity to mingle with his fellow Cybertronians - and those who were non-aligned often offered a unique perspective upon the war that he did not find among his fellow Autobots. And so he had left his rifle back in his quarters - how easy it was to disarm yourself when your weapon was not integrated into your frame - and opened a bridge to Haven.
Smokescreen patted the wall with one hand. An appropriate name, he hoped.
He paused. Startled, he looked down the tunnel. Was that his imagination, or...
Had he heard music?
His footsteps quiet on the rock floor, Smokescreen wandered. Light flickered on the walls. He could feel fresh air flowing through the tunnels, bringing with it the sense of great and open spaces somewhere ahead, unseen among the caverns. It was oddly comforting.
The tactician strolled at an easy pace, his hands folded behind his back. Frankly, he had no idea where he was, had gotten himself good and lost shortly after leaving the ground bridge. Light-heartedly, he brushed off any concern. He had made a silent note to himself to find an excuse to visit the African Neutral base after its existence had been revealed to him upon the return of Optimus Prime and the other Autobots. And now he was here. This was not a time for worry, but for a little exploration. And, perhaps, a little self-reflection as well.
Smokescreen hoped he would not be missed back at the Autobot base. At least things seemed quiet there for the moment. Tense, but quiet. It was good to get away, if only for a day. A little of the melancholia that had pursued him since the fateful bombing of the shuttle had crept back upon him as of late, evoked perhaps by the Autobot personnel files he had been studying since arriving on the base. So many unhappy histories to sift through. He always tried to remain detached while reading such things, but it leaked through in small ways. An opportunity to diplomatically visit the Neutrals seemed as good a way as any to dispel a bleak mood. And his curiosity in their status was genuine.
To be honest, he liked Neutrals. He had established a lot of good relations with them in the past, partly out of professional duty. And bad relations too, to his regret. But as a sociable 'bot by nature, he enjoyed any opportunity to mingle with his fellow Cybertronians - and those who were non-aligned often offered a unique perspective upon the war that he did not find among his fellow Autobots. And so he had left his rifle back in his quarters - how easy it was to disarm yourself when your weapon was not integrated into your frame - and opened a bridge to Haven.
Smokescreen patted the wall with one hand. An appropriate name, he hoped.
He paused. Startled, he looked down the tunnel. Was that his imagination, or...
Had he heard music?