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Post by Taggon on Jan 25, 2015 12:12:52 GMT
Lodge T-19 'Name your number.' These very words are scratched onto the entrance of a six foot thick door way, which is as scratched and as worn as the words above it. There is a small, red light slowly blinking where a handle would be, and a device within that can here sound, and determine what is being said outside of the door. In order to gain entry, anyone must answer the small riddle, if they find out it is a riddle.
Past the large door, is a room which expands into a perfect square, even floors, ceilings, and a flat wall. Directly to the left of the door way, is a berth, low to the ground. The berth's supports can be extended so that the berth is higher, and below it is a trap door. On the wall right across from the entrance is covered with carved in shelves, each shelf holds weapons which Taggon has collected over the years, varying from a Great Sword, to throwing knives, to masks of fallen enemies, to handguns, to training weapons, and almost any little trophy imaginable. These are simple looking trophies, but Taggon keeps these polished, and on display in his room, like decorations. On the right wall, similar to the wall adjacent to it, this wall has screens that are connected to the hidden cameras all around the Autobot base, and the small screens give fee on what is happening throughout the frigate. This area also has a computer, and a transmitter for emergencies. This corridor is located near the bottom of the ship, just a room or two from being just above the hull of the Arc.
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Post by Taggon on Apr 25, 2015 13:54:20 GMT
Taggon had entered his room, and locked the door. After checking his security cameras, and watching how Stalaken escaped, the vehicon just grinned. He'd known Stalaken would escape, but he hadn't wanted to do much about it since he just wanted his old friend to have a taste of Autobot mercy, and free himself with a tale to go back to the Decepticons, even if it involved him being beaten to slag. Taggon gave a small sigh as he watched the students try to train on his other security cameras. No, these students were not what he believed he could have confidence in. He had started out as a young punk, and perhaps an up-=tight jerk in some ways, but these...Taggon detected talent, but not in the spots he preferred to see it. AS for Diamond? Taggon felt he could rely on her to blossom into something that could really bear the name 'Autobot' with strength. She learned quickly, and though she lacked great strength, she could react well to her surroundings, and her ability to adapt to them made him grin. Perhaps he liked her as his apprentice because she reminded him of himself in the sense that she still had to be taught many things, but could adapt well. Taggon thought about another, Stormgear. He hadn't seen the little femme for a little while, though he was not nervous at all. He simply overviewed his cameras, watching her and Skyspray pair off and ground bridge out together, no doubt to whisper sweet nothings to each other. To be together. Taggon flipped his attention to another screen. He found the main hall quite active, though now he had lost interest in the activity within. He eyed the medical bay, and how Hotwire so pridefully strode out like she would own the place in a few months. That bounty hunter. She would get it later. Taggon at last placed a large thick book that had been carried in one servo all the while down on the table. He had begun to be studying science more and more, and some book on philosophy. He found it an adaption, and enjoyed soaking up information. War-documentaries decked his shelves, and sheets of paper and other objects that held a vast array of information mountained in his room, as Taggon threw himself into his studies. He studied quietly, diligently, and quietly. He had never ever had the opportunity to be taught by anyone the laws of science, politics, or what it was like to be an inventor, and so he read. He would be his own teacher, and he would learn and adapt. This way he wouldn't be so clueless in some areas. Slowly destroying his weaknesses one by one, gradually becoming a soldier who would posses vast swaths of knowledge was his objective for the next forty eight hours. Taggon knew a little more than the basics of science, he had somewhat of a good view on politics, but he wanted to know more about them. He required all the knowledge he could afford if he was to carry out a little surprise plan for the Autobots. Taggon was learning about plasma, laser induced plasma, the latest research on lightening, and a few other things having to do with advanced energy. Taggon quietly let hour after hour slip away, the only sound in his room him turning the page, and making notes to himself in a data pad which lay flat on his desk. Some might scorn the vehicon for investing his time in such things, but as keen as Taggon was with his blades, he knew that war was not about sheer skill, will, and power. It was a battle of wits as well, and one if one was to be a useful utility to their faction, they had to know many things. Becoming an evil scientist and a manipulative politician was not on the vehicons mind. The search for knowledge was. In all his time as a war-machine, he had learned on the fly. Taggon recognized that if he had spare time to learn things without being told them, and without people knowing it, then he should. His opponents knew him as an acrobatic killer with a mind of his own, and wouldn't suspect the angles Taggon was learning to take. It was all about the war and knowing how to keep his friends in tact, and there was much to learn. Starting now was a wise decision in his optics though. He would tell if he was asked, but he would keep his mouth shut until then. Taggon was tempted to take off his mask to see with just his optics...however, Windtalker still remained on his shoulder, thus keeping the vehicon from doing so.
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Post by Taggon on Apr 26, 2015 0:02:20 GMT
The hours passed, Taggon continued to work, and to learn. He was aware of a fight going on in New York thanks to his security feeds revealing to him what the Autobots were up to. Taggon would have gone as well, but he had been out in the front lines for a while now, and could use a turn to work in the backstage. He honestly found it better that way. Not to mention, Sksyspray had gone forth, meaning that the Autobots had just received an enforcement that could shoot down an entire city. Taggon eyed thought of the fight for a moment, thinking of the humans. How terrible it must be for them. Their city suddenly attacked, and large robots coming out of no where to destroy everything. Protection was definitely not happening, at least to the spectators. A fight was necessary, he supposed, though he didn't know the whole situation. Taggon had finished his science reading for the day and had moved on to politics. How did one move an audience to one's aid? Charisma was required, evidently. What else aside form that? Taggon searched for the answer in his readings. Little by little, the data seeped into Taggon, as he enlightened himself on how Cybertronians did it, and then humans.
It was interesting. It was all about manipulation of the crowd, to make promises or capture their interests in you so far. You had to speak with confidence, yet not too much so that you wouldn't sound prideful. A hint of Humbleness tended to work well, along with facts. Humans and Cybertronians loved facts and reasons in their speeches, as to convince each other of why what was happening, and what should be done.
Taggon raised an optic ridge behind his mask as he made his adaption. He hadn't become an expert over night, but if he was to fully carry out a little plan of his. He had still soaked up much information, a little beyond the basics. So what was a vehicon doing with politics? Taggon would let anyone who found out watch.
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Shatterbeam
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Could be messier.
Autobot
Posts: 606
Likes: 6
Gender: Male
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Post by Shatterbeam on Apr 26, 2015 0:20:19 GMT
Wind talker's optics slowly opened. Where has he been? He must have fallen asleep during the mining mission. He re-established the private comm with Taggon.
::Ugh, Ajjathos, did we get the mining mission done?::
Windtalker was too groggy to realize he'd called Taggon by his old name, and that he might not recognize the word.
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Post by Taggon on Apr 26, 2015 13:23:43 GMT
Knowledge was a weapon, and one book had even called itself a sword once. In which case, Taggon was sharpening it like a razor. Taggon was engrossed in the current topic he had indulged in; Bio Acoustics. Taggon turned a few more pages here and there, never turning his helm to the sleeping bird. As he read, 'in conclusion, the sound wave disperses through the air, sending feedback to the creature who commenced the process and-'
::Ugh, Ajjathos, did we get the mining mission done?::
Taggon snapped out of the book, being thrust form the world which he had entered but an hour ago. Taggon blinked twice, before answering. He didn't know who Ajjathos was for a moment, but as he pieced together the bits of data and what could quite possibly be the answer to his one-word question ('what'?), Taggon resumed a more calm voice, as one does when speaking in the library. Taggon did not reply over the com-link though. No one was here.
"Mining mission was completed. The Autobots have just been supplied with some excess energon." Taggon said without any hint that he was curious about his name. Is-is that my name? Is that who I was; Ajjathos? Was I...was I naive? Did I make mistakes? Did I have a family? Are they alive? Did I know anyone and did they care about me? Did- A flood of questions gushed into Taggons mind, as he blinked again, wondering who he had been. He wanted to know if he had been a mech who had something that a lot of Autobots acquired and lost; a family. Had he had that? He knew he had Cut-Up, but the mech personally was someone Taggon preferred to avoid now. -did I do something other then swing a pickaxe? Did I have a meaning and did I fit in? Taggon wanted to ask. He was a war-machine, and fitting in was something he could try, but it never worked. In the electrolounge, he had turned perfectly cheerful moments into somber ones. He wanted to fit in sometimes, to have what so many over looked. To be an individual who could slide his way into a group and not be depicted as 'that mech with a knife'.
Taggon enjoyed the presence of his weapons, but to actually be someone who could use words in such a manner as to enchant or make others laugh...it was a skill that Taggon felt like he was beyond repair with. Taggon kept the questions from streaming from his mouth though. he couldn't act like a kid, and he couldn't show that he had such longings. No, he was to mask all of his emotions.
"Who were you before the war? You never engaged into a full-length detail."
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Shatterbeam
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Could be messier.
Autobot
Posts: 606
Likes: 6
Gender: Male
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Post by Shatterbeam on Apr 26, 2015 17:15:23 GMT
((late-night post. Couldn't think straight.))
Who was I before the war? Why, I was a member of the Elite Guard! No, he's too smart for that. Windtalker decided against his lie, and instead told Taggon the truth.
I was a butler in Praxus, little master. Since I emerged from the well of allsparks, I was assigned to serving the wealthy. I'm not complaining, it was fun most of the time. But then after a series of events including me losing an item close to me, adopting a sparkling, and eventually getting arrested I met you. And then I stopped serving the wealthy, and began serving you and the sparkling.
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Post by Taggon on Apr 28, 2015 14:15:53 GMT
((Forgive the insanely long amount of time to post. ;- ) Taggon kept his visor focused straight forward, interlacing his servo digits before releasing a small, tired sigh from his mask, and hunching over some, causing weight to shift to his elbow spikes, which began to dig into his desk. There were multiple marks which fit the exact same size and stress marks, spattered all over the desk. Even the calmest had to release some of their stress at times. Taggon closed his optics behind his mask as he listened to Windtalker, tilting his helm ever so slightly, like a child listening to a lullaby, keeping his audios keened so that he could hear every note perfectly. Taggon ex-vented again, before inhaling some more. He still kept his optics closed behind his visor, the actual visor still glowing a monotonous deep red. Taggon considered Windtalker's words. The little mech had served him and a sparkling? So Taggon had had some form of family. If only he had something to jog his memory of those times. "I see." Taggon said simply. Hearing about his past made him short of words, despite the mental pressure of all his questions. Taggon instantly reviewed everything that he believed had happened to him. Memories flashed before him, behind his closed lenses. If Taggon could consider his processor a macze, then the memories of vehicon training had the simplest patters, and yet the murkiest light. He recalled thinking such simple things. He was no idiot then, but he..he was so green, and so not what he was now. Taggon remembered taking an oath that he would never leave the Decepticons, and forever be inside the lines of comradeship with his vehicon partners, Enix, Stalaken, Cut-Up, Chaff, Graph, F-28, Strafe, and Gojj. And their non-existent leader, F-28.Yes, they had gone on countless missions together, the sounds of them congratulating each other and their happiest moments echoed in Taggons audios. He felt such a powerful longing towards those times. He had been so eager to become some sort of elite vehicon, an unstoppable war-machine of some sort with his friends then. he hadn't wanted power to take over the Decepticons though, no, he and his friends had shouted with them to become some of the most effective agents of the Decepticons. Together, making a deadly team, and making so many fear the Four-O-Ninth. But those days were gone, just small etches in the walls of Taggon's mind. Graph had been shot by an arrow through the spark, Gojj had been slain by a predicon, Enix...he disappeared. And all the while, F-28 never said a word. They just carried on with their missions in a somber attitude. F-28 had left. One day, the radioed messages stopped, and Chaff was called to some crazy organization called C.O.S.T. Cut-Up had told Taggon he needed to go on a solo hunting trip, and never came back. Taggon and Stalaken had remained in a loose touch, but their sub-faction had died, and some of their vigor with it. Taggon remembered some dreary figures surrounding him and bringing him to some kind of space fortress later on. Taggon had thus become an Avacon, and his memories went blank for a measure, before he could remember serving under Thrasher. Having adventures with Thunderbolt, training Airwatcher, and making friends. The rest was history. Taggon snapped back to the present, lifting his elbows. He looked at himself for a moment, onlingin his optics to look at his arms. He unlaced his fingers, and flexed one. Heh."On a brighter note, what is one of the hobbies you invest your time in? I find it entertaining to research, and learn more, or go on patrols. I even train my apprentice at times." Taggon's tone was not gloomy, he was simply thinking. Again.
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Post by Taggon on Apr 29, 2015 12:31:15 GMT
Taggon glanced to the screens which displayed what was occurring in the Dining halls in Feenixfire's academy. It was mayhem, how one vehicon seemed to be playing all the students like a deck of cards, as they struggled to persuade him to give in, or give him reason to stop. What amused Taggon was the students had been told to not use their powers, yet Afterburner seemed to be using hers. If they were to use their powers, then Skyspray would be very angry. Burnout was a mech who was clearly still young, and had yet to be taught in the ways of combat by his mother and father. Two very occupied Cybertronians, unfortunately. He would need more then just normal combat advice. Until then, The mech was very well equipped in the methods of playing video games. Another sad note for the next generation of Cybertronians.
Afterburner seemed too eager to engage, though she withheld. her flame would come in handy in combat, but until she heated her temperatures up, she would do little but warm Stalaken up. Taggon stroked his chin, watching the scene before him.
The vampyricons were trying, but so far they did not fair that well. The fight had just begun, and Taggon had to cut the young ones some slack since they were fighting a fully trained Decepticon war-machine, but they had to adapt, and quickly. Taggon suppressed a sigh. He could just sit here and be amused, and perhaps criticize them for not doing many things. Or...he could com-link them, and try to lead them. Taggon thought about it, but it was really none of the vehicon's business. Feenixfire might not like how the vehicon was putting his nose in something...and Stalaken did deserve some freedom since he'd been through much that day. Taggon thought about being a friend to the mech and just letting this slide, and perhaps get yelled at for not doing much. But a display of initiative could reveal to the Autobots Taggon may be a war-machine, a vehicon, but was still loyal. Recently he had tried to do good for them but it had just been rejected, but was that an excuse to just sit back and watch the students fail?
Taggon tapped two of his digits together, thinking on the matter. He could just ask permission, though perhaps Feenixfire was too occupied...was not Gearchange around the area? Taggon checked the screens, and one by one, he saw that Gearchange was no where to be seen. So much for the Ex-Maximus. Humph. Taggon mentally grunted as he watched Stalaken pick up a table, and move in to smash Afterburner. The fight had just begun...but was he to just sit back and watch these young ones be clobbered and humiliated? Or would it be better to see if they could learn on their own, and to see if they could learn, as unlikely as it seemed. If they lost, they'd learn. They'd get disciplined too. I will just watch and see...if they need a servo, I will give further considerations.
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Shatterbeam
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Could be messier.
Autobot
Posts: 606
Likes: 6
Gender: Male
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Post by Shatterbeam on Apr 29, 2015 14:33:06 GMT
What are my hobbies? I take care of Shatter, bug him a bit. I've taken care of him since he was the size of one of the humans, and I'll keep doing so. He's my boy.
Windtalker had people to take care of. He always had, even on Cybertron. Even then there were orphans, sparklings with no caretakers. He had little time to himself, always struggling to both wait on them, and his employers.
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Post by RedOptics on May 1, 2015 1:57:21 GMT
Cataract would storm down the halls, surprisingly giving off a loud thud with each step. She was really angry, angry at a certain Autobot Vehicon. Though she was blind, she was still able to find Taggon's quarters pretty easily. Cat recognized the indents on the floor made by multiple bots, and pratically followed his tracks Right to his door. Obviously it was coded, unlike her quarters where she used CNA recognition, but anything was possible for her to figure out. And being this mad, the femme wasn't going to knock, but merely just 'break into' his room. Her servo ran across the metal surface, eventuallt finding an embossed encryption. She felt it for a few minutes, only to figure out it said "What's you're number?". I confused her a little, but then she realized wawhat is was asking for. A simple riddle. Meant to confuse the hell out of those who don't get it. Earth based alphabet... and numbers... let's see. 26 letters.... She felt around for the keypad, and remembered the layout.
"31161181316..." She mumbled softly. A low click would sound as it unlatched.
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Post by Taggon on May 1, 2015 14:24:36 GMT
Taggon gently stroked the end of his chin, listening to the bird as he watched his video feeds on the Academy. The students kept fighting, they were not losing, but they weren't winning. Taggon reckoned it would take much more effort then these new-recruits knew to take down a fully trained vehicon. Stalaken, while perhaps someone who struggled with being effective with extremely skilled hand-to-hand combatants bore little weakness when it came to anything else. Sniping was a fair attempt, Taggon guessed it would have a thirty percent chance of working, since Stalaken had dedicated his life to playing things defensively in and outside of combat. The vehicon nodded slowly to the small bird, glancing at the miniature mech from behind his visor.
"Indeed. He must be quite-" Taggon's visor pulled up a small screen in the corner, framed with red highlighting, showing someone outside typing in some numbers. The helmet deciphered the numbers for him, turning the numbers into letters, and the letters into a name, one by one.
C-A-T-A-R-A-C-T.
Autobot identified. Access granted.
Taggon raised an optic ridge. How had that little femme found out his riddle so quickly? He didn't place large bets on things such as this, riddles were meant to be solved after all like mathematical equations, but she had done it right off the bat. Taggon could only listen as the door unlatched, giving entrance to the designated femme who had so cleverly cracked his puzzle. He rotated his helm to face her. While it was good to see her around after all, it was how she came that made Taggon want to clench the hilt of one of his blades. She was angry. It was written all over the air, like graphite, only much more clearer. Taggon was unaware of what caused her to act so, though as his mind tackled the small question, theories formed in his processor. Why did he get the feeling that she was about to make physical contact? When entering the room, the doors would seal behind the she-vehicon. Taggon had only seen a select few femmes very angry, he knew their formation or anyone's when they were about to break something. The frightening fact about femmes was they may not always come in the strongest forms, but they did not usually need a physical advantages to deliver something much more powerful than any punch.
Taggon noticed that yes, his servo out of its instinct had clasped around a throwing dagger, but he let go. He placed his servo to his side, retaining a calm air still.
"You seek my company I see."
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Post by RedOptics on May 1, 2015 15:11:52 GMT
She didn't speak, only let out a high pitched hiss of air from behind her mask. Cat immediatly knew where he was from his voice, and stormed over to him. The Vehicon femme brought her right hservo to her left side, and flung it upwards, back handing him hard across the face with a loud bang of metal against metal. If he didn't hold a stance that knew she was going to hit him, he either would have stumbled or fallen. I seek answers, Taggon! She snarled, probably not glaring right at him due to lack of vision, but either way her face would be dangerously close. Her stance was tense, extremly tense as her chest heaved with angry and hot breaths.
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Shatterbeam
•
Could be messier.
Autobot
Posts: 606
Likes: 6
Gender: Male
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Post by Shatterbeam on May 1, 2015 17:54:31 GMT
For all Windtalker knew, a random person came in and attacked someone whom he held very close regard too. And he reacted in kind. He took to the air, breaking the private comm and screeching at Cataract, flapping to stay in place, the minigun in his belly lowering out of his stomach and swirling back in forth, Wind's way of threatening someone. About 25 rapid clicks were heard as select feathers lengthened and locked in place, ready to propel themselves at Cataract. He may not have arms or legs, nor the ability to wield a blade, but he could still fight like hell.
What the hell do you think you're doing?! Why if I still had my body I'd make waste of you!
Wind thought to himself. Taggon may have learned to stay calm, but Wind had not. THough they were both veterans, only one had learned to stay their hand. Wind's unfortunate had wounded and even once killed allies, when they decided to be surprisingly angry or surprise him. He never thought about doing it, he just acted. Like he did now. He never discerned between femmes and mechs, they were both capable of great feats of strength and power.
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Post by Taggon on May 2, 2015 2:01:38 GMT
"Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn." Ceft had once said, reciting psalms from the corner of a training ground. Taggon had been training on how to react to attacks better, and was practicing some moves. Ceft himself simply watched from the side lines, his faceplate displaying an amused look as he observed his apprentice. Taggon turned his helm to face Ceft for a moment before returning to performing some back-flips.
"And why's that?" the vehicon asked. Ceft just chuckled, stroking his own cheek,
"Trust me Taggon, you will put two and two together later on."
The small flash of memory darted through Taggon's vision as Cataract's servo slapped him right across the mask, the loud clang of metal loudly echoing in the room some, thanks to some of the power and some of the unspent space in Taggon quarters. Taggon's helm snapped to the side which it had been forced to, in his seat his back plating also made contact with the back of the chair. Taggon could make two different calculations every second, but even if he had seen the slap coming, dodging it would have made things worse for him. When femmes couldn't slap, they kicked or punched. Taggon blinked behind his visor, looking to the angry femme vehicon. He opened his mouth to respond when Windtalker swooped from his shoulder, screeching and equipping his means of arms vigorously. The bird was over protective, or must have gained such instincts while care-taking his sparkling.
Before Windtalker could do much else, Taggon reacted. All vehicons had a brotherly like relationship, even if they hadn't met one another. However, femme vehicons were something entirely different. Sisters were quite rare, even just the fact that she existed made Taggon feel like he had to make sure Cataract remained in tact when around her. Her being an Autobot doubled that little urge; a vehicon who could think outside her programming was extremely scarce. Not to mention, Taggon didn't want the wrong messages to be indicted, and an aggressive maneuver on Windtalkers part could lead to a fight. Caract was still quite close to Taggon, and in fact almost mask to mask, which meant Windtalker would real around and open fire on her if she did anything the bird deemed as too aggressive. It was Taggon's acrobatic balance that prevented his seat from toppling over, and his calm attitude that made him appear to still be in good condition and spirit.
"Windtalker. Do not attack." Taggon began, glancing to the bird and gesturing to the femme vehicon right in front of him. The tense air made it difficult to not comply to his combat-ready nature, but he managed. Taggon collected himself, as he faced his fellow vehicon, mask to mask.
"This is Cataract. She is an Autobot." Taggon explained simply before inhaling.
"Now Cataract. What do you desire answers for?" Taggon asked patiently. The slap to the face had been agitating indeed, but he could not hurt this femme, and he knew it. it was annoying by a bit, though he had brought harm to Stalaken, he could not bring harm to a vehicon on the same faction he was on.
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Post by RedOptics on May 2, 2015 2:52:54 GMT
If had no mask on, the rage in her blind optics would burn through, You have some nerve! Pulling off a stunt like that is lower than low! Especially, for an Autobot! Her tone had a clear hostile vibe to it, and it was enough for anyone to second guess what she was like. She may have used the innocent newbie tone around Taggon when they first met, but this was different. Cat ignored the other bot, her audio receptor twitching with irritation from the screech. Quite frankly, he was already annoying, but she would only hurt another when it comes to good reason. Her servos clenched and she brought her shoulders back, clearly trying to look threatening, but knew it wouldn't work on a mech like this. There would be a low rumble in her throat, loud enough to be heard as a growl as she waited.
There were similar scenarios like this when she was once aboard the Nemesis. Bots yelling at her for the littlest reasons or simply just to get their anger out on her. Though there was rarely any physical contact between them, what ever had been taken out on her usually resulted in at least a three day stay in the medical ward, with her begging to be offlined. Her processor would pulse, returning to reality where it took her a second to remember what she was mad for. Oh yeah.
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Post by Taggon on May 2, 2015 4:26:24 GMT
"Stunt?" Taggon said quietly, remarkably still not phased by Cataracts behavior. She was angry at him for killing Decepticons, he could gander. What else would she be angry about? Everyone had been coming up to Taggon lately because of his bombing of the Decepticon medical bay. The problem was that not only did they not see the bright side, or understand why he had done it, it was that he was becoming the center of gossip. Or something. It wasn't like some Autobots gazed at him with distaste already. Yet Taggon had done many things that resulted in him being accused and hated, until the very souls who had done so understood his reasoning. He would have to explain himself yet again. Taggon placed his servos at his sides, as Cataract made it very obvious she was about to break loose.
The vehicon ex-vented before he gently pushed her back some, so that both could have some space to stand. Taggon arose to full height, none of his pistons hissed however, since his chassis was designed for stealth. Taggon remained in front of Cataract, though he believed it was time to stand up. Not to be over bearing, or display how much taller he was, but to simply be able to show he believed this was not idle conversation.
"Cataract. Let me explain the scenario to you. I went on a mission to rescue the Autobots who were held captive on the Nemesis. My scheme involved in cutting the power, and then taking the Autobots nice and clean. However, I knew it would not happen that easily. Nothing ever does. I readied to remote-control droids dressed up as vehicons to do a suicidal bombing on the Decepticon medical bay because many high-ranking Decepticons were there. I know what goes on in that medical bay. The Decepticon medics and patients are not innocent, especially not the high ranking mechs and femmes. I bombed it so that it would lead to the Autobots taking one more step towards ending the war." Taggon stated, his tone still calming.
"Have you ever been in a battle field?" Taggon asked, "It is not a pleasant place to be. No side is focused on saying they are sorry for killing one another, and no one is safe. The only difference I saw when on a battle field as a Decepticon between the two factions was that the Autobots picked up after their dead. The Decepticons did not. Recently, the Decepticons captured Gearchange, and have captured and reprogrammed many of my friends, and many other Autobots. The Decepticon medical bay is where many terrible events occur. Even as Decepticon, I saw this. You perhaps had an in-sighting on this as well." Taggon made no move to injure Cataract at all, but just held still, wondering if she would hit him once more in the back of his helm.
"Perhaps most would argue I killed the helpless. The truth is, according to my feeds from the drones, everyone was quite well-armed in that medical bay, and some were even getting ready to leave. Even then though, it is not the point is it? I bombed it because it was my duty to. Not many Autobots would, but as I have said, if it ends the war sooner, I would do it again in a spark beat. I am willing to be called anything along the lines of scum if I can get my job done. It is not something I will ever do with glee, but I will do it. Cataract, I try to make it my priority to under stand most of my enemies before I destroy them. I knew the Decepticons. So I pulled the trigger." Taggon said, "They are only going to hate us for any reason they can conjure up, logical or not." Taggon ended. He waited for Cataracts reply as he glanced at Windtalker from behind his helmet.
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Post by RedOptics on May 2, 2015 13:31:59 GMT
Taggon. When are you going to realize the war will never end? No matter what, if we cross the finish line, whatever is left of them will still be after us. You can't destroy energy, you can only transform it. Her tone had softened and she pulled back into a more lady like stance. She crossed her arms, he had made a point worth pondering about. But her argument still stands. At least I still hold a little respect for my recent faction. Her voice was small and shaky, barely audible. Yes, Decepticons were evil and cruel, but some still had that spark in them to realize the monsters tha they are, much like Cataract did. And with realization came change. But she wasn't used to change, because one wrong movement can bring out her true colors, though even then she still hid inside and never fully unleashed.
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Post by Taggon on May 2, 2015 14:02:55 GMT
It was as if she could bend the truth, or something. It was like a small brainwash, an effortless flick of her finger and Taggon wanted to agree with her. In some ways, he could admit her philosophy was true, but in others...there were many ways to decimate, to destroy, to slow, to attack and to conquer the enemy. Taggon had used to hold respect for his faction, but having his mind being messed with twice and still having left over damage in it did not help him keep any respect. There were still a handful of mechs and femmes out there who could change...just like he did. In war though, there was no light-heartedness. It was either you were struck down for the final time, or you got up to your feet. Everyone had people in their life that wanted them dead and they dealt with it whether they liked it or not. Life was a stern push after another, though there could be pleasant breaks, hard work was in high demand, by either mech or your survival. Or is that just my old programming speaking to me. Taggon wondered.
"Warfare is something that is always inevitable Cataract. It is what consumes many, and as much as I do not like it at times, we vehicons and protectobots...and countless others are the by-products of it. Have you ever heard a story where there are no survivors left in a battle or fight? Do you ever wonder who wrote the books or tales then? There are always survivors Cataract. One way or another, there are always survivors, and the ones who never forget." Taggon nodded his helm,
"Those who side with the enemy who have potential will be reached out for...and the Autobots will always have an open door for them. When in my experience, I was brutally torn apart, shot at, attempted to be killed, spat at, burned, scorched, cleaved and interrogated by Autobots before I joined them. Not every one is me, but it remains a point that all go through a process of stress or torture before they make their determinations." Taggon told her. "I only hold respect for a select group of my faction, and that is my legion, or others who bear fruits of something more then an eagerness to destroy and conquer." The vehicon answered. He did not know why Cataract had lowered her voice, but his had remained the same subtle tone.
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Post by RedOptics on May 2, 2015 22:24:13 GMT
Cataract sighed softly, When will you realize there's no point anymore...? Then she crossed her arms over her cheat, looking down. She jutted out a hip as a mechanic whirr came her the base of her neck. The femme was very much different than him, she only thought about the sadness, while he thought of solutions. Life had taken a much worse toll on her, and it emotionally damaged her to say the least. Cat was rarely happy, and more emotionless than ever before in her life. Yet it was also strange, how they thought so differently since they are of the same practical race. And though she had so much time than she knew what to do with, she never bothered to ponder about it.
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Post by Taggon on May 2, 2015 23:53:16 GMT
No purpose? Those were two words which made Taggon's mood want to flip like a light switch from calm to a little even more serious, and even angry. No purpose? Had Cataracts legion been maintenance for picking up the dead, or cleaning up after Shockwave in his laboratory? How could this vehicon be so...hopeless? Taggon estimated perhaps she had lost something, though he recalled she said that she had left the Nemesis because she was blind. If she was this hopeless, someone had to fix her. Taggon was so used to having the primary objectives survive and adapt that Cataract's words just didn't click. Of course there was a point, why would they have been turned into vehicons if there wasn't? Taggon was about to start his reply with 'have you lost sight?' but he knew that statement would not get the message across in this scenario, but could possibly be registered as a slam. Instead, he simply placed a servo on her shoulder, and spoke, repealing some of his emotionless tones and replacing it with something else.
"Is this what you truly believe? That this war no longer has a point, and merely tears things and people apart?" Taggon asked, "It does, but the war is far from purposelessness. Before this war started, there was a corrupt government, as you know. A Caste System which was enforced very strictly, prohibiting anyone from the lower classes to bemuse something they might want to be, or turning criminals and potential threats into one-eyed emotionless monsters with their process called empurata. Then there was a rebellion. That rebellion became the Decepticons, and they fought for liberty....and then their leader became absorbed in an obsession for power, and there had to be a rebellion against the rebellion. The Autobots reformed the corrupt government forces, and used what they could to stop the Deceptions, but so much damage had been done that all if not most of the lower class hated anyone setting foot in Iacon or Uraya. That very war has carried on. The Autobots fight for freedom. The Decepticons fight for 'order'. Both have visions of peace, but one side's vision involves total and utter control over everyone through a Lord; a bureaucracy." Taggon said, he knew he was reviewing history with her, but it was how he could predict or establish firm points. History repeated itself, after all.
Taggon had hoped Cataract would lift her helm to face him, but made no effort to make her, and instead placed his servo off her shoulder. "The 'point' is that the Autobots are fighting for freedom. Not Chaos and certainly not disorder, but they have another design for government entirely one which is not a bureaucracy, or a tyranny. Why both sides persist to fight each other is the more who die on either side, the more both sides want to fight harder. Especially the Autobots. You spoke of transformed energy? It is what happens with the Autobots quite effectively. Their emotions and longing to make sure there is freedom has been exchanged and or mixed with their knowledge of the fact that millions of their comrades died for this factions cause."
Taggon then spoke in a very soft voice,
"We are here because we follow a cause. If there was no point, ask yourself, why did you become a vehicon? If there was no point, then why did you follow a cause in the first place. It is called a 'Cause' because it has one or two." Taggon finished.
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