singularityderp | Dark Future Meme

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meme

Dark Future Meme

Ten years later, humanity and the synthetic life on the station are at odds
Hypatia has inducted as many citizens of Sacrosanct into a private military and launched
an all-out war against organic life and the people of Asphodel.
Some were kept on the station as captives, some escaped down planet-side
to become part of the resistance, and countless others were re-purposed into
Hypatia's willing slaves.

Now, tensions are at a peak and both sides are preparing for a throwdown. Skirmishes break out on the station and planet. Many of Hypatia's prisoners have been freed, but many more have fallen to the clutches of reprogramming.

Where will you be?

How this works:
-If you are synthetic or part-synthetic, OR if you have special armor (Looking at you, Spartans, Troncast, EVERY ROBOT EVER) you are a target for re-purpose.
You can still have escaped down to the planet, but she'll be after you. Going to the station is dangerous, once you enter her wide-area-network you are at risk of being hacked

-If you are fully organic, you are either dead, kept prisoner and made to work on the station, or part of the resistance on Asphodel.

-Anything in-between? You decide. Be creative with this.

-Fill out the form below to give us an idea of what your character is up to, what happened to them etc. Thread with each other! RP it out!

-Also, bring in your extra journals! There won't be the same people on the station ten years from now! If you're planning to app someone, or just have something interesting lying around, toss them in!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Name: Skyfire (He prefers to be called Jetfire after his reformat)
Current location: Asphodel
Current Physical Appearance: He dwells in his battle suit.

Summary: The Air Guardian had originally been part of the resistance, helping the uncorrupted parts of the population escape down planet-side. His suit, however, had made him susceptible to Hypatia's reach. It started with slow inklings, thoughts that did not belong to him. The suit had been designed to be a part of his body, his mind, everything hooked up to nerves and neural output. It was a ridiculously easy target, and she played with him so simply. Planting violence in his head, visions that made him sick. By the time he'd made it down to the planet with the rest of the refugees, it was too late.

Increasingly quiet, he isolated himself, no longer chatty. He took up arms (it wasn't the first time), and slowly his disdain for violence slowly trickled away as she molded him from above. His suit and his powers made him a weapon to begin with. He was large and imposing and perfect. Without his gentle disposition he suited her needs quite well, along with the rest of the synthetics or half-synthetics that she'd managed to reprogram or infect, he'd make a lovely addition to the ranks. Day by day, driving him insane, tweaking against his grief and doubt, against the people they'd seen slaughtered in her initial purge. She'd play those thoughts back to him over and over again, breaking down his guilt. Eventually she made one final push for reprogramming, and Skyfire had a psychotic break, fleeing for the station.

The rest of it had been easy after that. Wipe him of identity. Give him a new name. He proved so useful to her after that. He was re-skilled in combat and infiltration. His flight made him perfect for drops onto the planet to abduct whoever Hypatia saw fit. Whatever caught her eye, Skyfire was a missile to be aimed at it. He was given combat data from many of the citizens on the station, though he is powerful, his techniques are not polished.

He rose to be one of the commanders of her private army, violently policing those who were left behind on the station and killing whoever got in his way. Hypatia's way.

That is until Thane scored a winning shot with a disruptor round. He had actually been aiming to put Skyfire down as a sort of mercy-kill. Instead he crippled him enough that he could be captured and tediously repaired. Given his free-will back. So to speak. He was never the same after that, though. He was made a weapon, and it was a hard thing to break. He'd killed a lot of people. Now he skulks around the planet surface, fighting for the resistance. Quiet, surly, not having any issue with violence. Certainly not the happy, nature-loving scientist that once landed himself in the station.

He now prefers to be called "Jetfire" no longer feeling his old name is appropriate for his purpose now. He's become a vicious force to be reckoned with, and a serious vendetta against Hypatia for taking away what remained of his innocence.

It's quiet.

The rock has settled, the last bits of dust slowly falling to the ground - that is, the dust that isn't being kicked up by his pacing, his examination of the rocks and rubble that have trapped them in here. He could shoot at them, no doubt, to try and break his way through...

It would collapse the cave. Nemesis emits a growl not unlike a frustrated animal as he rests a hand, the ping on his sensors to return faint but present.

He's been given an order. He cannot resist.

But at least it allows him to resist another order, one to kill, with the logic that it would prevent the newest from behind fulfilled. I need his help, he calmly informs the routines, and they leave him be as he tries to sort through his options and come upon a way out.

He claws relentlessly at the rubble, angry.

He needs to be out there. Fighting. The worm tunnels are unstable to begin with, but it really does appear as if there is no way out.

The walking suit of armor finally collapses against the wall out of exhaustion and frustration, visor glowing as he seethes.

He - they - won't escape this way. It's useless. With a final shake of his head, Nemesis pushes away from the rock, looking down at the small figure by his feet. For all the armor, for all the size he's already had, he seems tiny...

"Deeper," rumbles the Herald of Hypatia. And with that, he turns, fully intending on heading that way.

Little is said between the two. Although they are well out of comm-range. ~~Skyfire~~ Jetfire says very little these days to begin with.

He watches Nemesis go for a moment. He hesitates...

And then follows.

Albeit reluctantly.

He's more than welcome to stay behind. It'd shut up the insistent code, at least, politely informing him that it's a duty of his to recover all 'lost' parts and bring them back for reformatting and I need him as is.

The code lingers as they search the tunnels for what seems like days, but, according to his chronometer, is only so many hours. It is, however, enough that his already-drained systems note that he does require a recharge cycle, if not fuel.

Only one is truly feasible at this point.

Shaking his head, mostly at himself, he turns back - with only the briefest of looks at the little one, to see if he follows - and heads for a dead end they'd already discovered. It, at least, will be defensible if the worms come out.

Silence this heavy has not been broken. But when Nemesis changes course, Jetfire can do little but follow. He does not let on, but he is heavily fatigued as well. He has said nothing- showing weakness would be a terrible idea now.

His exhaustion and damage only becomes apparent when he stumbles and lands flat on his face in the tunnel with a frustrated growl.

It's loud enough, of course. There's no way he could miss it. Nemesis pauses and turns, tilting his head slightly at the display...

...and a moment later, he's picking up the form and slinging it over his shoulder. If you can't keep up, he'll simply carry you.

There is protest. A bit of flailing, a snarl, but he is too exhausted to fight back.

He squirms and wriggles until he tires himself again and goes limp.

So long as nobody spoke of this...

Nobody ever.

If Jetfire believes that he talks much about any of his work under Hypatia...then he's more of a fool than Nemesis first thought. The only one who gets such a report is Hypatia. And even then...

He lets the form slide off his shoulder once he finds the nook, setting him down on the floor before taking a seat of his own on the rough stone. Back to the wall, he gazes forwards, considering transforming, but...

Better to stay like this.

Slumping against the wall like a ragdoll, Jetfire settles, looking vaguely limp. He's more exhausted and damaged than he irst believed. He must find a way out.

It's only after they both settle that he finds himself slipping- slidng over until he meets something solid-

That being Nemesis. He lands against him with a soft clank.

ANd no- he doesn't care enough to move. Moving takes energy which he is woefully short of now.

Having only started to cycle down, the pressure against him wakes him up immediately. Nemesis's dark optics snap towards the figure, narrowing slightly...

...before they, as well as he, relax. For a moment, there's a glimmer of color, so faint it may as well not even be there...

"...I will take first watch."

After all. It's not only them in the tunnels. I need him alive. If only for now, so that when - not if - trouble comes, he will assist.

There's only a small blip of confirmation from the armored drone who quickly passes into recharge. He normally wouldn't have trusted so easily. Or at all, but it's not something he can argue with. If he was to be killed, it would have happened already.

Perhaps the remnants of some dream- some kind of memory triggers it.

But after an hour or so, he's moving. Not awake- but moving. Crawling up and over and curling up against the warm metal.

An hour in to it, and his systems have dropped down. Not truly in to recharge - he's on watch, after all - but enough that he doesn't even consider his weapons as he turns to look at the moving form.

Memories of his own stir. Ones that would be better left away, forgotten so that they cannot be stolen. But even as they are removed from hard-write, his spark remembers a time when neither of them were so rough around the edges. Perhaps nowhere near smooth and unblemished, but...

Cycling his vents in a sigh, he rests his hand against the smaller form in an almost protective manner.

He doesn't wake, thankfully. He just curls tighter, much resembling how he once did when he'd found his escape from AM, balled in Convoy's lap, taking comfort in the presence of the other cybertronian.

He stirs briefly, long enough to release his helmet which transforms and folds into itself revealing his ruddy, gaunt face. Dry lips and tangled, chin-length hair, pulled back into a haphazard ponytail.

He squirms briefly, dreaming of some memory.

A sunny day on the station.

Something of comfort.

At this rate, he half considers letting him sleep a full rest cycle. He strongly considers it.

But with little more than emotion supplying it, the programming won't let him. If he needs him alive to assist - then he needs him alive to stay a watch. Slowly but surely, the delay he can offer gets smaller...and smaller...

...and then, lightly, he's touching his finger to the dirty hair. Wake up.

SKYFIRE

THAT THING WE TALKED ABOUT

YEP

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