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Transformers In Character!
Ghosts of Seeker Mafia [ Prompt Response] 
15th-Jun-2010 01:42 am
trix overlooking river
TFA Slipstream

Slipstream sits near an old dilapidated watermill, literally cooling her heels in the rapid, rain-swelled mountain stream that threatens to wash away the remnants of the old mill.

It's all fun and games until someone falls from the sky.

I've been feeling kinda...divided lately. Waiting for the other wheel spat to drop.

On the one clawed-hand it's all fun and games here: dancing, movies, dodging lightening...board games. It's like the place Lampost take Meccoggio, in that recharge tale, where they all make total afts of themselves. Everyone just eating sweets and playing games and forgetting they once had a purpose.

Are we all just making afts of ourselves here?

Because, in the other talon, we have the tenuous grasp on reality. People appear and disappear seemingly at random, like falling into or out of a dream, and from the rumors I hear...sometimes they go and return...with no memory of being here. Doesn't argue much for any of this being more than...some wonderland. Going down the rabbit hole into some virtual world an architect made, filled with our own residual self image. Or...if real...why so maddening? Like the plot of some classic Science-fiction show. Or, somewhere there is the man behind the curtain. Bela Lugosi is shouting "pull the strings, pull the strings!"

So, I end up divided: admittedly drawn toward these seemingly worldly pleasures of the shell, yet still hanging onto what I knew before with every sharp digit.

What about the fun and games we used to have? Battle. Fighting. Conflict. Conquest! Noble fight to regain our homeworld and sacred artifact? Anyone?

The moment I had a chance; as soon as I had enough brothers to actually make us formidable - immortal air force - they started disappearing. And, I have to listen to pontification about fate and making our own fate?

What about the fate I planned where I schemed and plotted to resurrect my creator and he would be....

I don't know how to resolve this for myself. I've been back and forth on this issue for lunar cycles! How do we just go from what we knew to being at peace...with peace. I try to draw some kind of inspiration from others, even fictional characters: like how Aeryn was so militant in the beginning and ended up one of the most adamant proponents of peace.

I don't know that I can just settle down. I've tried. If not to settle and be at peace, at least then to find something here to challenge me enough: tasks, mysteries.

But some tasks, like getting a heavy, industrial drilling machine from the Beta Site on the plains, to the Alpha Site in the mountains, however interesting the challenge, just require more bots...or teleportation skills...or a space-bridge-like device.

Much as I am wasting for a challenge, some things are just beyond me.

Still, there is so much fight in me. I need to do something! I need more.

I don't know if this world is the hood and jesses, or this predatory bird needs a hood and jesses to be at peace in this world! Either way, I won't really be broken. Even if the world itself is the only thing left to fight; I'll fight it, for lack of another target.

[ooc: This location was discovered by TFA Skywarp, and I believe only TFA Ramjet, besides Slipstream, ICly knows where it is at this point. If anyone else wants their character to be able to discover it by some means, let me know.]
Comments 
15th-Jun-2010 07:09 am (UTC)
TFA Ramjet

So you're not here.

Who's been whining about fate? I love fate.
15th-Jun-2010 09:59 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*Slipstream lifts her feet from the rapid stream.*

Ramjet. *She expresses some happiness in the perk of her wings, despite her mood.*

You know...Megatrons...mechanisms in general. Talk about making one's own destiny; choose your fate. Well, even God-like charisma hasn't gotten all the Peerless Leaders *a smirk for the fact they are each no longer peerless here* more than pretty arm candy.

None of us have any direction over who joins us here. I thought for a while we could have some influence...but ultimately that is of little consequence.

I do not dislike this place...I am just so restless here.
15th-Jun-2010 05:10 pm (UTC)
TFA Ramjet

*sits down next to Slipstream*

The Megatrons choosing their fate? *huffs* That seems to be working out for them.

We knew the others would leave. We could've done something about that.

*nods*
This place is always so exciting.
15th-Jun-2010 11:15 pm (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*She draws her knees up in front of her.*

I've had some small dealings with the three Megatrons here. There are no battles for them to fight, either. I suppose it must affect them. I can't imagine they aren't, or weren't at some point, as restless as I am. But now, without battle, what does a Decepticon Leader have to judge his troops against? What a pleasant companion one is or how handy one is at home-improvement tasks?

There's not even need for airpower. There's hardly anything elite about us here! There's no room for promotion!

We're all of us falling into a kind of decadence we used to accuse Autobots of having. I just don't know if I can be settled with that. Much as I do agree there is some room for fun, and play, and even companionship, I need there to be the serious side, too

I tried to make that for myself - for us - both with the WTP, and generating power in secret. But, it's become rather routine.

I need more of a challenge.
16th-Jun-2010 01:02 am (UTC)
TFA Ramjet

*doesn't really know what to say to his sister, so he rests a hand on her shoulder and listens to her.*
16th-Jun-2010 01:19 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*She smiles slightly.*

I don't think it's wrong for kin to show affection to each other. It's not weak, like having too much mercy in battle. It makes us stronger, together.

You're...a good listener.

*sighs*

I still am really dissatisfied, mind you!
16th-Jun-2010 02:32 am (UTC)
TFA Ramjet

*nods*
And we don't need to stay strong.

I have alot to say, that's why I'm such a bad listener. I think you and Skywarp got the least amount of his intelligence. Left alot of it for the rest of us. *chuckles*

Really? I expected you to suddenly be very happy and content.
16th-Jun-2010 02:47 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

Yes. We need to stay strong.

Skywarp was very intelligent, but I do not think any of our creator's clones are unintelligent. It was weak of him to let his emotions and arrogance ruin his plans in the past, but he was never unintelligent.

He just did a few stupid things.

*shrugs*

I know. It's so like me to be happy and content about everything! My critical nature doesn't make me a better strategist, at all!

Not that it matters much here. The only strategic skill needed seems to be social engineering!
16th-Jun-2010 03:55 am (UTC)
TFA Ramjet

*laughs*
And here I always thought you were the liar.
16th-Jun-2010 04:03 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*Trills laughter*

Yeah, we didn't get the most contrary traits of our dear template.
16th-Jun-2010 01:22 am (UTC)
TFA Lockdown

The hunter approaches quietly, intending to make his arrival heard but not wanting to disturb the peace. He had traced her energy signature planning on surprising her with a spontaneous visit but hadn't realized just how far he'd have to travel to find her. It was practically a hunt.

Transforming and stepping lightly through the rustling fallen leaves, he eases down next to her at the stream's shore. Her body language is very telling, the seeker clearly burdened by troubling thoughts, but what vexes her he is uncertain. Best to just play it mellow, find out if his presence is even welcome.


Got an open audio if you need one. He speaks softly his voice deep and soothing. Can also frag off if you wanna be alone.
16th-Jun-2010 01:53 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*Slipstream continues looking into the fast-moving water, as if mesmerized by it's flow: the way water takes the path or least resistance, and yet was also a powerful force that could cleave mountains. Actually, she is in a quiet panic, realizing that Lockdown proved himself worthy of his reputation of a hunter in tracking her here. She had been certain is was a secret place; one Skywarp had found. She missed him. Missed him as a brother and one of her more willing conspirators. At least, they had not managed to bring anything very incriminating here. So far as Lockdown need be concerned, it might just be a secret place, and not a potential site for any clandestine operation.*

There's no way I believe you found this place by accident. If you found me, you were looking. Might as well cool your heels a while, after that hike.

*She turns her head slightly, enough to meet Lockdown's optics.*

My brothers and I came here sometimes. Ramjet was with me earlier. He's a good listener, too.

*She turns back to the stream, rather enjoying the resistance of the water against her heels.*

This place just gets to me sometimes. Not that I'm gonna let it beat me! It's just...irritating!
16th-Jun-2010 10:05 pm (UTC)
Following her example, the hunter scoots his mismatched legs to ease his pedes into the stream. He shudders at the initial chill but relaxes quickly as the cool flow proves soothing to his trail worn alloy.

Take an entire army of autobots to beat you, Slipstream. Wouldn't think this place could make a dent.

Holding her gaze he places his hand on the ground behind her back, leaning closer but not making contact.

But I won't deny it gets to me too sometimes, like we're all bein' pushed to our limits, bein' tested. 'Nough to make a mech go mad if he ain't able to laugh it off at the end of the solar.
16th-Jun-2010 10:29 pm (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*She forces a laugh* I guess the problem is I fail to see the humor sometimes! It's hard to reconcile the way things are here - everyone co-exisiting in near-peace through some sense of common hardship - with the way this were before.

I'm not critical about everything. Sometimes, I really do go with the flow: like water. I take the path of least resistance. I draft behind others. Ride their coattails as it were. *She shutters one optic in a very human-like wink.*

That is...until the point following another's lead starts to feel like I'm being trapped. Like water left only some narrow outlet suddenly overflowing banks of a river or breaking a dam. That's when I have to resist.

This nexus place has been making me uncomfortable. Like...I can't rightly tell where that line is anymore. I don't know when I need to go with the flow, and when I need to resist. And sometimes I feel like I need to resist, but can't find that other outlet!

And that uneasy inability to resist just makes me want to resist more...as much as there are things I would like to accept or give-in to.
17th-Jun-2010 12:21 am (UTC)
He listens attentively to each word, every little influx of her seekeresque vocals. He listens with all his senses, watching with intrigue as she tosses him a wink, pleased to see she could still muster some humor through her hardships. There's a palpable restlessness in her energy field, the same kind he feels after a long stretch of space travel. He imagines this world must be dreadfully clausterphobic for a jet, especially one accustomed to travelling 'tween earth and her moon.

He's uncertain how to respond, knowing he has no words of wisdom. Nexus has him just as displaced and as much as he supports neutrality it's not easy to make such an abrupt changeover from a hostile way of life.

He jiggles his pede in the stream, continuing to absorb her, the poetic words flowing from her onyx lips as gracefully as the water she talks about. He really enjoys hearing her mind and envies her natural eloquence. likes the way her processor works.


Goin' with the glow ain't somethin I'm good at but I appreciate the ease of it. Catch 22 there is how fraggin' bored it can make ya after too long of it. I understand the urge to rock the boat if for anythin the thrill of spicing things up.


Edited at 2010-06-17 12:22 am (UTC)
17th-Jun-2010 01:47 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

Here, sometimes going with the flow seems to mean some kinda...almost resort lifestyle. Or...like Spring Break from war? Mmmn. Like shore leave? Fun, games...hooking-up.

Some bad things have happened here, too. Some natural disasters and some assaults, but those kind of things also do happen in crowded resort communities, when the tourists are least expecting it.

It's...nice - except for those bad parts - but it makes me restless. Do you know what I mean? Always waiting to go back to war. Almost wanting something to happen.

Maybe...even a kind of guilt? Back...before, the rhetoric were all programmed knowing always made Autobot control of Cybertron into some kind of corrupt decadence, them always having more privilege than us. If any of that is true, than we should all feel bad about being here, especially when our comrades back there are still fighting.

Yet...if that wasn't true...

If that isn't true...and all of this - fun and contentedness and indulgence in pleasure - is good...

Then why were we fighting?

Edited at 2010-06-17 01:48 am (UTC)
17th-Jun-2010 04:28 am (UTC)
Darlin' do I wish I had an answer to that.

Why...The universal fraggin quandary.

He sloshes a pede in the stream accidentally? splashing her leg and fixing a contemplative gaze into the water.

I stopped askin a long time ago, when I stopped bein one of them, stopped tryin to win peace by waging war. Since then I grasp at any pleasure this existence is willin to spoil me with. My aft should be rottin in a cell somewhere but it ain't. Instead I'm here, getting second chances I don't deserve.

He kicks the other pede up, an intentional? splash tossing water into her lap.

I don't ask why I just take each solar as it comes, act on instinct over logic most of the time, and my instinct, my spark, tells me to be grateful for any shred a'pleasure that comes my way.

Leaning over to scoop his hand into the flow, he splashes water on his face purposely? tossing water behind him to nail her in the wing.

Why it is you feel the need to fight? Leaning back, he casts her a sidelong glance and the makings of a smirk. That your prototype programmin talkin or your instincts?

17th-Jun-2010 05:25 am (UTC)
TFA SLipstream

*The first splash barely registers; just a background-running acknowledgment of a change in temperature against specific points on her armor plating. She sit, listening still.*

*At the second splash, Slipstream actively recognizes the movement of Lockdown's leg as well as the splash of water and the sudden cold against the thinner dermal plating along her slender thighs. She makes a sharp, wordless cry of protest.*

*At the third, very purposeful splash to her wing, Slipstream's energy filed flares with a kind of delighted outrage, and she launches herself bodily at Lockdown and sends them both into the stream.*

You like playing with water?

*The stream is swift and the banks steep and rocky. If not for the dilapidated mill standing downstream from them, they might really be in danger of being swept away...literally.*

The gentle lap of a bath, an invigorating splash, the rage of the rapids, or the hardness when you face its expanse?

*Slipstream lifts Lockdown from the water, talons on his arms. The swift flow about her feet causes her to stagger toward him.*

You can contain water, as much as you can cage or tether a bird, yet the tighter you hold, the more it runs from your grasp. Handle it right...contain without forcing...and water stills for you.

*It is, she knows, in no way a direct answer to his question, but it might be the more telling.*
17th-Jun-2010 10:51 pm (UTC)
I like any of it. All of it.

Placing the bulk of his hooked arm to the small of her back, he steadies her against his frame, the pair now trusting on each other to maintain balance.

Like whatever you-- Whatever it tosses at me.

Holding her crimson gaze he brings her wet, cool hand to his face, trapping two talons in his mouth, his glossa slipping between the sleek barbs, a smile spreading across his tattoos.

Rumbling a deep resonating hum, he liberates her now warmed digits.


Like how it tastes.

Slowly dropping to one knee, the hunter trails his lips and glossa down her body, collecting the glistening droplets. First her cockpit, then tapered waist, then hip then thigh, all enticingly cool to his heating touch. He reaches down to collect a handful of water, splashing it against her inner thigh and instantly diving in to taste the aftermath.
18th-Jun-2010 02:00 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*Slipstream shifts the position of her wings as Lockdown draws her toward his chassis. Another non-flight trait of wings, besides being decent heat sinks: counterbalance for the swell of a cockpit and intakes, or whatever else has attached itself.*

Well I'm glad you- *She starts to work up into some banter, but Lockdown sucks her talons in his mouth. Slipstream goes slack-jawed herself watching it happen...feeling his glossa and lips...that internal heat, of her sharp digits. It puts an intangible knot of tension in her core.*

Water laps back, you know....

*Lockdown goes down - it throws her balance so that Slipstream sways and leans into his trailing kisses. Slipstream fans her wings back, only to feel she will fall again due to sudden and near-inexplicable weakness in her legs. She puts her talons to Lockdown's shoulders, gasping at the sudden shifts between cold and hot.*

Oh, Gods-I-don't-believe-in!

*Her talons clench and then reach to hold the spikes studding Lockdown's neck. If she had just a fraction more clarity of function, she would make some witty comment about handles, drowning or decidedly not being in danger of overheating, even though, she feels pretty hot.*
18th-Jun-2010 06:21 am (UTC)
Hook still lingering on her back, his thick arm stabling her lower body, his glossa dances artfully over the seams in her thigh, the frigid water long since licked away. He moans into her thin plating as the rising heat from her core bleeds into his and the sharp touch to shoulder spikes send rippling surges through his systems.

Tell me more...He speaks breathily between wet kisses. 'Bout instincts. 'Bout water.

Tugging the jet down to kneel with him in the shallow turbulance, the hunter buries his hungry maw into her petite neck, his voice sending purring vibrations into each accepting cable.

'Bout how fraggin' hot you make me.

He scoops up another handful of water and lifts it over her helm, dripping it slowly over her shoulder and wing, then her neck and cheek. His lips wander up to hers lapping up the droplets along the way. He runs his wetted thumb across her lips before entrapping them in his own, his hand now drifting down her body, exploring with delicate caresses.
18th-Jun-2010 04:36 pm (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

You like my poetry? W-water is very wet. It has a boiling point. And...the atmosphere gets steamy, when it gets hot.

*She falls to her knees, sinking down into the swirling water that should have felt cold. Steam rises from her warm plating.*

It's highly conductive...gets you hot, when it's hot...gets hot, when you're hot.

*She keens at the attention to her neck.*

I want to rip you open...taste your insides...do it all again the next day. Want to just hack at your walls. Frag.

*She kisses Lockdown hungrily. Deeply.*

Want.

*Her talons scrape at his back and shoulders, grazing spiked and scratching plating.*
19th-Jun-2010 06:40 am (UTC)
Each time the word "hot" escapes from those intoxicating lips the hunter's body responds accordingly, his core temperature battling the cool water and winning. Her scratches to his back adds to the rising heat, the stinging pain a welcome rush to his sensor net. Her wanton words trigger his most primal of instincts, the ones he reserves specifically for hunting...

and moments like these.


Want.

Growling that single word, his voice dripping in lust, lips easing off just enough to mutter it, he shoves her down roughly into the shallow shore and pins her steaming body there, pressing his pelvic plating to hers and moaning carnivorously as he keeps the penetrating kiss locked tight.

He trails his hook over her cheek, almost hard enough to scratch, his hand pinning her talons above her head, digits interlacing.

His body writhes and grinds against hers, the kiss deep and hard, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, testing her pain threshold.
19th-Jun-2010 07:53 am (UTC)
TFA Slipstream

*This is right, she thinks...as much as she is still thinking clearly. Clearly enough to decide what she wants.*

Want you.

*The ones that they had needed to forget, her fears of being too like her creator, whether love should or did have anything to do with it, their shared doubts in this place, even their difference in faction: it doesn't matter.*

Lockdown.

*This is right, she tells herself again. She had all but begged for another to explain it to her, had not understood merely observing it in others. Maybe...their reasons were not her reasons, but she could not give herself over to one without there being a test. All of it: the dates, and the physical roughness, was to determine whether one was worthy and compatible. Not lifetime compatibility - she would need more tests to ever determine that - worthiness as a partner, in this....

Two predatory creatures locked in a kind of dance. Her lip components disengage from the forceful bite, bleeding slightly. Her dark lips scrape his faceplate, leaving marks like new tattoos, in their wake, and a sheen of bleeding lubricant that is washed away by a sudden wave of water, as their entwined bodies shift in the stream.*

*Hurting each other a little seems right, as much as the roiling pleasure.*
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