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

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.

At first he wrinkles his nose, fusses a bit at the touch, and then presses into it before finally coming to-

And with a start, to. His head snaps up and the helmet quickly deploys to cover his face. Scrambling out of Nemesis' lap and onto his feet.

"WHY."

Good morning, sunshine. Nice to see you too. Jetfire is the recipient of a very flat look, even for one whose optics are black and who has half their face covered by a mask.

"Your turn for a watch."

He settles a bit at least, growling low.

Carefully, he props himself against the wall and sets his systems to survey the area for any threats.

He says nothing more, preferring not to talk about... what just happened.

If he expects Nemesis to say anything...

Well, they've drifted apart, to say the least. But even with who he fights for, now, what he does - he's only changed so much. The Alternity would be so very proud...

It's with that thought that he settles down to rest, allowing systems to slip offline. But even with the main processor in standby, the spark is active, and 'sleep' is anything but easy.

He's grown used to it. Motor and vocalizer systems are disabled - for all the world, he's nothing but a lifeless hunk of metal.

He stands as a sentinel there, unmoving for a long time. Some distant sound occasionally drawing his attention, only to dismiss it as the ground settling.

Something eventually spooks him, something falls in the darkness and he's at attention, weapons warming as he aims off down the tunnel. His lithe form hops up to perch on Nemesis' shoulder...

After several moments of silence however, he lowers his weapons, but stays perched there, staring off down the tunnel.

Such does the time pass.

He cannot be anything but efficient, this day and age; in enough time, in enough period of not-restfulness, and systems recycle and restart. Optics, at first, flickering white before returning to their dark state - sight is helpful, in restoring his processor while the codes cement him in the present and here and now. Only once he's brought himself to it can he engage the other protocols, restoring other functions, and stirring with a low hiss from his vocalizer.

Nemesis hates being asleep, but he hates waking up even more.

When he starts to wake, the former scientists slides down to the floor of the cavern again, bristling, watching him stir.

He says nothing, but waits for him to come online fully so they can move on.

Peering down the dark passage, he's ready to move, getting antsy.

"..."

He cycles his vents - more a chuff than a sigh, and more at himself than anything else - before getting to his feet, slowly. Fuel levels are...not optimal, but the recharge helped. He'll be able to make it last, with enough rest.

The other, he is slightly more...aware, of. He cannot make use of him dead.

So there is more of a reason to continue, and he glances left, then right, gauging where they've come and where they should go next. His map of the place is...sketchy, at best, even though he has been doing his part in ensuring they do not retrace their steps...

He treads lightly, very wary.

Though for an hour, nothing happens. No words are even exchanged. They just walk through the tunnels until they open up into a wider corridor.

Something that looks older. Less recent.

The former shuttle tenses, sensing something in the darkness.

He holds up a hand, signaling for Nemesis to stop.

Vigilant for signs of trouble, Nemesis stops shortly enough, looking down at the figure before raising his head to slowly look around.

...these are not the same sort of tunnels they had been walking through. From the native wildlife? He frowns, beneath his mask, running a quick check on his weapons systems...

...he could use them. It will lower his energy, but he could.

The former shuttle moves down the tunnel to investigate briefly, slipping into the darkness ahead of them.

A few moments later he comes back.

Sprinting.

Right past Nemesis, only offering one brief, almost yelped word as he passes.

"Run!"

What comes barreling down the tunnel is probably one of the largest worms he's ever seen.

Yep.

Run.

Oh.

Battle routines judge the nature of the threat and his own condition near-instantaneously; if at full power, he could stand up to such a beast. It would be a fight, but in the end, he would triumph.

Now?

Rumbling a growl, he punches the wall, and not just out of frustration. If nothing else he has his strength, and perhaps, if a few rocks drop on the beast, it may seek easier prey...

May.

He's running a moment later, already wracking his processor for other ways of discouraging it.

Dark Future Meme

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