Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Apr 5, 2015 13:46:42 GMT
The Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant Zone of Alienation is an officially designated exclusion area around the site of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor disaster. It is also commonly known as the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, the 30 Kilometre Zone, or simply The Zone.
Established by the USSR military soon after the 1986 disaster, it initially existed as an area of 30 km radius from the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant designated for evacuation and placed under military control.Its borders have since been altered to cover a larger area of Ukraine. The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone borders a separately administered area, the Polesie State Radioecological Reserve, to the north, in Belarus. The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone is managed by an agency of the State Emergency Service of Ukraine, while the power plant and its sarcophagus (and replacement) are administered separately.
The Exclusion Zone covers an area of approximately 2,600 km2 (1,000 sq mi) in Ukraine immediately surrounding the Chernobyl nuclear power plant where radioactive contamination from fallout is highest and public access and inhabitation are restricted. Other areas of compulsory resettlement and voluntary relocation not part of the restricted exclusion zone exist in the surrounding areas and throughout Ukraine.
The Exclusion Zone's purpose is to restrict access to hazardous areas, reduce the spread of radiological contamination and conduct radiological and ecological monitoring activities. Today the Exclusion Zone is one of the most radioactively contaminated areas in the world and draws significant scientific interest for the high levels of radiation exposure in the environment, as well as increasing interest from tourists.
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Shadowstrike
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Roleplayer V
Posts: 810
Likes: 11
Gender: Male
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Post by Shadowstrike on Apr 5, 2015 16:55:04 GMT
OOC: Ok I wated two days but no one showed up so I've left the area. As a slight warning for those who do not like disturbing posts DO NOT READ THIS.
Although tourists came to view the exclusion zone very few where allowed within it confines, after all those who where allowed put their self at danger and even then their entry was restricted to a maximum amount of days per week. That didn't bother Overclock though as a cybertronian he wouldn't be effected by the radiation. So here he was driving along in his Hennessey Venom GT alternative mode as he turned off a small countryside road and headed towards the site already creating an authorised holodriver. Moving slowly as his wheels grinded across the ground the mech's bright green and yellow paintjob stood out against the grey and dull colours of the security zone that he entered before a quick security check ended with Overclock moving through calmly. He hated all these security measures and having to blend in with a group of humans that just seemed to push all his buttons in the wrong direction, pity he was an Autobot or else he would have had an easier time killing off those who got in his way.
In a way though they where right, at least more so than the Decepticons. He still agreed with the Autobot beliefs after all how couldn't he, 'freedom is the right for all sentient beings' was such a memorable line that it was hard to disagree with. The only issue he had was that now he was stuck patrolling some urban wasteland without a single sign of action or excitement. The problem wasn't that he had some desire for action or excitement, actually far from it the only thing that bothered him was that it felt so pointless patrolling what he could only describe as a ghost town. Well at least he would have been if he'd reached it yet, the exclusion zone was huge and reaching the city itself took a lot of time as he kept at a decent pace will moving along the outdated and old roads that had been both preserved by the lack of use but at the same time decayed due to the similar lack of care.
When he was younger Overclock may have sped up to quicken the whole experience but now that he was older he saw the importance of getting a job done right after all anyone could be here, it was one of the few places on Earth where both Decepticons and Autobot's could set up base at ground level and have no fear of being found. In a way that did lighten him up a little as he came to a stop their was something about the place that felt eerie. Almost as though every move he made was being watched.
If he'd trusted his instincts maybe he would have moved some more, turn and ran the other way or even called for backup but instead he stood there his motor idling will he scanned the area for movement. A number of pulses searching like a sonar device to find anything out of the ordinary and yet it didn't find anything noticeable. It didn't even detect the mech that at this time was staring Overclock down through the scope of a Nucelon Charge Rifle that was just begging to be released as the unnatural hum blended in with the surroundings. Shadow-Strike stood in the distance silently watching Overclock from a distance as the hypercar began to transform large parts of the car separating into distinct parts of the Autobot's robot mode until he was on his hands and knees rising to his feet.
Everything seemed normal to Overclock the world around him was silent only the movement in the overgrown fauna creating any distraction as his optics looked out for any threats in the distance. He couldn't shake off that eerie feeling though as a small deer ran out from the bushes that his optics where staring at, a tense staredown proceeded as Overclocked kept staring into the bushes ready to fire at a moments notice as he flipped his servos revealing two rather large and obviously modified subsonic repeaters. Yet their was nothing, not a single movement was caught by his perceptive optics, then their was something, not a movement but rather a sound as though it was a large mech stamping across the ground. So Overclock fired unleashing a torrent of bullets that dissected a number of woodlife creatures without a single chance of escape and afterwards he heard nothing, no sound of the bullets hitting across metal as he expected.
Instead now the area was filled with the terrified screams of wildlife that retreated from his location. Now that he was becoming more alert to the environment around him it's features became more distinct and understandable to him. The area was strange as behind the huge overgrowth of nature a mix of large office buildings and small houses likely for the former powerplant workers and their families. It wasn't a pleasant place though by any means the enjoyment of families was long gone from this place now. The deserted park in the distance a reminder of the disaster as the building themselves looked corroded and rusted from a lack of maintenance since the disaster. Come to think of it he was surprised the building where still standing now considering how poorly built they where in the first place.
That was another thing with humans that bothered him they where so wasteful with their resources at hand, a talented cybertronian architect could make a building that his kind would live in for millions of years and it would easily stand the test of time. On Earth though the humans considered non-functioning tourist attractions as remarkable the fact that many of the famous human buildings no longer served their original purpose showed how lacking the humans where in committing themselves to projects. It had taken a planet destroying war to break the Cybertronians commitment to their culture and society.
Pacing through the site with both weapons raised Overclock felt more worried than usual as his mind crept to a news report he'd heard only two days ago. Two mechs had been killed in Africa by some unnamed assassin, it was a Decepticon of course from what his reports could tell but that wasn't what worried him. He'd heard the details of how the assassin had chosen them out of a busy road on some highway of sorts, true enough it wouldn't be hard to pick out two Autobots at the best of time but something sat wrong with him. Overclock knew the two personally and although he was by no means their best friend he did share common goals just like the rest of their little group friends and enemies meant nothing on the way towards accomplish their goal.
Just because Overclock was an Autobot didn't mean that he had no alliances elsewhere, commitments to ideals that arguably shifted against the Autobot's own. That fact didn't matter to Overclock though after all the Autobot's where only the means that where going to provide his goal once the time came... It was a time that wouldn't come for him though.
Shattering the silence Shadow-Strike struck firing off a shot as the ballistic round flew through the barrel as it was dozed with a stream of superheated energy that stuck to the bullet, disintegrating the ballistic round before it had even fully left the barrel. Even without the round the superheated energy continued onwards having formed a perfect bullet which was now on it's way towards the target that had no chance of reacting to the potentially lethal shot. It had been an easy shot against an easy target as Shadow-Strike watched the energy round penetrate the target's abdomen and slice straight through like a hot knife through butter sending energon everywhere as the shot punctured the mech's full energon tank before leaving his frame until it burned out underground after creating an impressively long and small hole in the tarmac and earth behind the mech.
For Overclock the attack had been instant as his whole body fell to the ground in pain the immense heat from the energy round having liquefied anything it met on it's path. He could feel the energon quickly draining from his body as the energon tank spluttered energon all over the tarmac covering Overclock in the process as Shadow-Strike watched through his scope an amused smirk crossed his face. Overclock would die from the wound without treatment but it hadn't been an instant kill, Shadow-Strike had no intention of killing him instantly after all as he dropped down from a four storey building his pistons dampening the impact as Shadow-Strike moved through the maze like surroundings towards his target.
The Autobot had no idea what had hit him only the bitter fact that it had hit hard and fast the most likely scenario was that they where moving in for the kill as every second he delayed was precious time to save his own life. Unable to pull himself up Overclock instead rolled over onto his abdomen and began to crawl will he sent out a distress signal for an emergency groundbridge, but it didn't matter... Shadow-Strike was here.
Reaching hold of the mech's shoulderplate Shadow-Strike spun the Autobot back around onto his back before violently crushing his fist into the mech's faceplate for good measure. His visor and battlemask combined to hide his blood red optics from sight as the Autobot stared up unsure of what to say or do, he'd sent the signal and all he needed now was backup, they'd come to save him surely. If only they'd known.
Staring up into the visor dread filled Overclock's face as he saw the numerous HuD messages that where appearing across the mech's visor only one stuck out to him. A small symbol on the left of his screen detailing the current communication connection in the zone, the surrounding area was being blocked by a communication jammer originating directly from the mech he was staring up at. Their was no reinforcements coming, their was nothing but death that awaited him. So he fought back with what little he could sending a mouthful of spit up into the Decepticons face, it was the only energy he could find himself able to muster.
Overclock: If your going to finish it make it quick.
Keeping the deathly stare as the spit hit his face Shadow-Strike didn't even react he just kept still watching over the Autobot. Then one servo suddenly reacted out of nowhere gripping Overclock by the throat and crushing cables that sent energon to the mech's processor but Shadow-Strike deemed uneccessary. The grip tightening as every thought of Overclock's became clouded and confused except for the throbbing that broke through the incoming dullness.
Shadow-Strike: On one condition.
Using his free left servo Shadow-Strike slammed it into the mech's fuel tank covering up the gaping hole in the front to the reduce the energon loss but not outright negate it. It was only going to lengthen the mech's suffering as Shadow-Strike's right blade began to slowly poke out of his gauntlet till it was the length of his full servo, he had plans to make this a very interesting time as he lowered the blade into Overclock's neck. Then the blade met the mech's neck as Overclock screamed, the pain giving him energy. So he tired all he could as his weakened arms tried to reach for the blade trying all they could to remove the mech in vain. The growing intensity of the screams doing little to stop the Decepticon as Shadow-Strike's blade poked deeper into his neck. Searching for the right cable as his gauntlets released a nano-toxin into the blades thermo-energon stream a slight nick in the right cable would be all it took to disable movement from below neck height. Then he found it a simple nick causing Overclock's body to stop resisting as his arms fell to the side lifelessly.
Shadow-Strike: Tell me the location of Counterscreen.
Looking the mech straight in the optics Overclock couldn't hide the shocked recognition of the name as he hastily spoke behind gritted teeth.
Overclock: Who?
Shadow-Strike: You know who I'm talking about Overclock...
Overclock: ...how do you know my name...
Aware he wasn't getting anywhere with his questions Shadow-Strike's now free right servo began to reach into the gaping hole in the mech's armour that the Nucelon Charge Rifle had created. Overclock was a small mech and his parts where compact as such as Shadow-Strike's servo moved past the armour and into the Autobot's internal's. Suddenly a gasping pain pulsed through his body as Shadow-Strike gripped hold of an internal organ and yanked ripping numerous cables and denting support beams as he quickly pulled out Overclock's still functioning T-cog. The pain of having it removed without a sedative was absolutely agony as Overclock screamed again, numerous parts of his body tried to transform against his will with nothing to link the movements together. The dysfunction causing Overclock's arm began to transform crunching against his shoulderplate what shared no agreement as the elbow joint snapped under the pressure creating a crash of metal which dented his shoulder. He was lucky it was just his arm that had wanted to transform as Shadow-Strike began to apply pressure to the T-Cog forcing Overclock to watch as he crushed it in his bare hand.
Shadow-Strike: You do not understand the roles of this transaction Overclock, your world is in my hands and you'll do good to remember that the longer you delay me finding the answer the longer I will delay your suffering. You save no one by delaying I will find my target and she will die just like every other one of you. She made the right choice in faking her own death on Gigatron but it does not prevent the inevitable.
Overclock: I don't know where she is she never personally met with us it was over comm channel I'm not the one you want she's the one with the plan just let me go.
Shadow-Strike: You made your choice on whether you live or die when you decided to walk down this path. I am brining you chaos, destruction, despair...
Leaning down over the mech Shadow-Strike's intake opened slightly to whisper into the mech's audio receptor.
Shadow-Strike: ...do you no longer want it?
Overclock: I told you everything I know...
Shadow-Strike: ...Then consider it lucky I wish to make this rather quick.
Leaning back out Shadow-Strike's servo went to an unusual place as it landed across the Autobot's pelvic plate the merciless smirk that hid behind his battlemask could be felt merely by the sadistic aura that surrounded his actions as Shadow-Strike's blade began to pierce the plate. This time their was no screaming at the start merely petrifying fear as his blade created the tiniest of incisions in the plate before Shadow-Strike pulled out.
Overclock: Rather?
Shadow-Strike: You have still delayed.
Reaching into his gauntlet Shadow-Strike had a number of vials carrying nano-bots as well as various toxins designed each with a specific purpose, then their was one that stood out from the others it was a tiny thing, a creature that roamed the very edges of the vial that Shadow-Strike was now beginning to remove.
Shadow-Strike: But I understand that you are misguided, unaware of the ending of your journey so to speak. So I give you a chance to end it quick. Tell me the patrol codes of the others.
Aware every second count Overclock didn't think about it he just did it as he sent a list of codes into the immediate vicinity which Shadow-Strike quickly intercepted. The assassin didn't seem interested though now he was just staring into the vial and the creature within, a single malnourished and starving scraplet.
Overclock: There you have it just end it now.
Shadow-Strike: You misunderstood me Overclock I am not the one who will end this, you are.
Lowering the vial into the incision site Shadow-Strike pressed a single switch on the vial as it released the scraplet towards the unspeakable prey. The squealing returned like a bell ringing without stop as Shadow-Strike searched into his gauntlets to reveal a single grenade which he held gently between his finger tips. He didn't care about the wails that rose from the Overclock's intake infact they did nothing to affect him as he watched the mech be eaten alive.
Shadow-Strike: Bite.
Given no other choice but unbearable agony as the scraplet eat away Overclock reached out putting pressure on the grenade with his denta as Shadow-Strike deactivated the comms jammer and began to step away. Their was the tell tale sound of cracking denta then relief as the grenade triggered, the resulting explosion leaving little of the mech's helm as it sent shrapnel into his processor deactivating him instantly. Then their was only Shadow-Strike, the scraplet and Overclock's corpse as the mech unsheathed his right pathblaster before firing a single shot into the pelvic plate. Destroying the scraplet and whatever remained of the victim.
If any Autobot received the distress signal or noticed that Overclock's spark signal had went dark Shadow-Strike wouldn't have much time to pack up... but no one ever came as Shadow-Strike left the mech's corpse to rott.
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Post by RedOptics on Jun 28, 2015 3:18:46 GMT
A 23 foot tall Decepticon femme silently walked through a ground bridge, looking around with intensely focused optics. Her dark armor blended in with the darkness of the night, making her seem to be just a floating pair of eyes. Her vents hissed loudly and she flinched, not used to it as the silence around her seemed... hostile. But now Deatheye carried weapons, so she felt just as hostile. Keeping an alert stance, she silently crept her way through the ghost town and over whatever could crush loudly. What was this place? It gave her a radiation headache, but she pushed the small pain aside and focused mainly on what was ahead. Nothing but a blue and cold environment. All plant life had died, and every building and vehicle was run down. Not one thing had moved, not one thing had made a sound. Strong feelings of loneliness started to over take her, and her spark beat quickened, as if waiting for something to pop out and scare her. Deatheye noticed her vents would be shakier, and she could see herself exhale it as the cold night brought delicate winds. Relaxing, she walked normally with a look of slight awe, looking in the broken windows of buildings, seeing nothing but dust and bits of degraded material. It was rather sad, to be honest. It was just like Cybertron currently is now, dead with nearly no life. Nothing but wind and time to accompany it.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 1, 2015 12:33:45 GMT
A 23 foot tall Decepticon femme silently walked through a ground bridge, looking around with intensely focused optics. Her dark armor blended in with the darkness of the night, making her seem to be just a floating pair of eyes. Her vents hissed loudly and she flinched, not used to it as the silence around her seemed... hostile. But now Deatheye carried weapons, so she felt just as hostile. Keeping an alert stance, she silently crept her way through the ghost town and over whatever could crush loudly. What was this place? It gave her a radiation headache, but she pushed the small pain aside and focused mainly on what was ahead. Nothing but a blue and cold environment. All plant life had died, and every building and vehicle was run down. Not one thing had moved, not one thing had made a sound. Strong feelings of loneliness started to over take her, and her spark beat quickened, as if waiting for something to pop out and scare her. Deatheye noticed her vents would be shakier, and she could see herself exhale it as the cold night brought delicate winds. Relaxing, she walked normally with a look of slight awe, looking in the broken windows of buildings, seeing nothing but dust and bits of degraded material. It was rather sad, to be honest. It was just like Cybertron currently is now, dead with nearly no life. Nothing but wind and time to accompany it. It was hereupon this midnight hour that another walked the ghost town, venturing through the terrain as to seek others of his own kind, and to seek the Autobots. With his communications down, and his curiosity blossoming every waking moment as he strode through the earth around him. The outline of a sixteen foot tall mech with small tanks on his back and incredibly thin femurs and arms was visible in the moonlight, as he stuck to the light mainly, not interested in seeping into the shadows at all. Knaught's deep lake-blue optics shown brightly as he trudge through the land gingerly, watching his step and looking here and there. He too made the connection of how cold and uninhabited this place was and how Cybertron was much the same, though he had to admit, he was feeling pretty tall for the first time in his life. Being sixteen feet tall was something that usually degraded him down to the shorter class of Cybertronian, meaning that most towered over him. On the left half of Knaught's faceplate, where an optic would have been was four small optics, positioned tighter much like four puny barrels of a minigun. These barrels had small optical lights in them, and they did not protrude far from his faceplate, but simply whirred back and forth. The sable black and bright white mech had no wheels, no wings, and hardly any signs of an alternate mode at all, as he strolled through. He never noticed where he was walking, and thanks to Deatheye's stealth, he found himself accidentally running right into something stiff and moving, face-first. A loud clang sounded before Knaught stumbled backwards, his four-barrels optics whirring once more. Knaught stuttered, looking around the area in confusion. " Whom have I stumbled into, in this black hour? Reveal to me whom thine is, fellow traveller!" Knaught stuttered, looking around the area in confusion.
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 2, 2015 0:31:31 GMT
Deatheye didn't let out as much as a squeak from the contact, but she took a step back, her narrow optics looking down at the bot that had just fell. She was still, and if he looked hard enough, he would see two optics and a biolight on her chest. Finally the femme moved, and could be more easily seen as she cautiously moved closer, hand on the handle of her ranged weapon. I was... not expecting any life holder other than me to be trekking in this Primus forsaken area. Her voice held a serious, but curious structure as she spoke, Cybertronian, stand up and tell me who you are before I. Deatheye would keep her helm held high and proud as the loud hiss of air from her vents chimed out into the infected air. She would not help him. But she wouldn't leave either, for something was telling her to stay from the back of her mind. Looking around, there seemed to be no others around, but she still felt a little uneasy, knowing that she wasn't the alone here. Her audios twitched, feeling a rush of cold air sweep over her form and her back tires turned slowly to a stop, making her go still like a statue again.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 2, 2015 2:35:56 GMT
Knaught blinked his single normal optic at the spotter of a femme, trying to adjust his site. His four-barreled optic spun until it had slipped into a more adjustable vision. With his optics quickening their ability to make out the femme's shape thanks to a long-ago-done surgery, Knaught managed to achieve good sight in the black night. The femme demanded his own designation before she told hers, which only informed Knaught that she was one of the more anti-social life-forms, no doubt. The middle-aged mech huffed himself as he regained his stance, brushing himself off. He had little to no bio-lights himself, though his white paint job made him rather distinct in the shadows.
"Mine Designation be Knaught. I am but simply, in the uttermost straightforward shade of honesty, an Autobot Medic. I seek mine brethren's refuge in short explaining." Knaught returned with a rather polite tone, not innocent, but something that displayed something that wasn't at all hostile. Knight's optic ridge had adjusted from a momentary furrow to a formal and slightly friendly facial expression. The only thing odd about him other than no alternate mode parts was the fact that he had four small optics bundled up in one optic hole. He put his servos behind him, his large and bulky servos folding behind his back.
"Again, I request unto thou if thine could lend me a portion of thy time as to provide me with thine own introduction?"
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 2, 2015 3:13:21 GMT
There was a quick glint in her optic, as if she was disgusted to have run into an Autobot. Her facial expression changed into a sort of scowl and her optics now held a small hint of hatred and disapproval at him. You shall refer to me as Deatheye, an unranked Decepticon Warrioress. Her voice however was the same as before, no distain for his presence. The femme took no interest in his optics, she's seen worse before. Deatheye took her servo away from her weapons as she towered over the mech, staring down at him.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 2, 2015 12:57:13 GMT
Knaught noticed the hint of disapproval in the larger Cybertronian's optics, her stiffened and emotionless tone sternly telling him that he was to exclusively address her as precisely what she said. As if she was possibly somewhat more superior than him in some way. Knaught had seen this behavior before though, instead of reflecting the scowl, Knaught just straightened himself out more, standing as tall as he could. Perhaps not the most mature thing to do, but for someone sixteen feet tall, he sometimes had to ignore his own size and act as if he was either eye with someone else. Eye-level usually made things better when it came to communicating.
"Very well, Unranked Deatheye of the Decepticons. I shall brush aside the name why thou hast requested such a mouthful of a title of me to call thou by, but if thou invests thine pride in designation as well as faction, that is not mine concern in the slightest. " Knaught sighed, rolling one of his optics. The femme was going to be a bit jerky towards him, and he would have to deal with it. It was a bit frustrating to know that he had traveled over thousands of miles on foot only to be coldly greeted by a femme who thought herself better than him. it was the sad truth though. He would just have to make due.
"Putting our differences aside however Decepticon warrioress Deatheye, I must ask why thou journey without company. Art thine a deserter, or merely longing for time away from your brothers?"
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 2, 2015 16:08:25 GMT
For a split second, there was a form of loneliness in her voice as she replied, Even a loyal enemy of your faction needs some alone time. But at this time, I don't wish to fight, for I have not been ordered to. Now her voice was soft, but still sounded like drop dead. Deatheye blinked, her helm lowering as if to look less provoking. After all, her appearance was meant to fool. The femme pulled back her shoulders a little and her trod shifted to get a better stance, It is simply just Deatheye, I am not a royal. She had switched the subject as her processor went over all they had said. And you search for you faction, that is understandable, Medic. I assure you that there is quite a platoon on this planet. But definatly not here in this general area. Now Deatheye looked at him as if it was a simple conversation, but looking a little bored of it, not that it was noticeable.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 3, 2015 14:59:53 GMT
Knaught felt slightly relieved when he learned that he only had to call Deatheye by just her name. He was a details-man, and often took things literally with descriptions. He let his quadruple optic spin for another second as Deatheye explained herself even more. it was strange to Knaught to see this Decepticon prove to not be the stereotype of the Decepticons; a reckless and nasty guns-for-brains sort of fellow. Evidently, Deatheye had some mild knowledge of what the word 'peace' meant, which gestured towards some of her personality. Perhaps she wasn't all that bad inside? Too early to make that judgement, but not too late.
"Ah, pardon me femme Deatheye, I as I keened my audios to heed thy self-description I took thee for thy precise wording. A minuscule error done on mine behalf." Knaught brushed his chest apologetically, even giving her a small smile, still keeping a polite attitude.
"Please, do not call me by Medic, that is but my occupation. Mine designation is Knaught, as I've said, and I find it quite preferable to be spoken of behind or in front of me by thus." Knaught stated mildly, placing the same servo which he had brushed himself off with to his side. "Resuming normal conversation, it is indeed established that I sojourn to locate my beloved faction, but to more stressless matters, thou act as if thou lack friendship of any kind. Is it due to an emotional state of mind, or because thou is 'unranked'?" Knaught questioned, cocking his helm at her. He scanned her over with his four barreled optics, checking her for anything that might need repairing since he had nothing better to do. Decepticon or not, it was best if everyone remained in good health. Save brainless murderers that was.
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 3, 2015 17:34:22 GMT
Knaught, His name left a slight bitter taste in her mouth, and she continued, I have been, somewhat, re-introduced into my current faction. It had been not long since I woke up after fifty years in stasis, or, as Sir has told me. Deatheye reverted her optics to the surrounding area, as if checking for any other intruders, And I'm afraid I do not remember all that has happened except for a few details. But I feel as though I am not supposed to remember something, yet I don't know what.... Shaking her helm in a slightly disturbed manner, she looked back at Knaught, who seemed to listen in a interesting way.
But why here? Her voice came out softer than she wanted it to, and in turn cursed herself for it. But the question lingered, possibly confusing towards him, so she rephrased it as well as corrected her tone, Why search here in nothing but a barren waste land of forgotten dreams? At least that's what the femme thought of it. A catastrophe such as this on a planet with much more delicate organisms was terrible, it felt like something in her mind was triggered to feel more pity than usual, and she pushed the thought aside. Her helm ache would pulse more, and her vents hissed loudly again in order to cool her processor down.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 5, 2015 3:15:49 GMT
Knaught stroked his chin as he listened to the femme's little story. She was showing a strange amount of feeling for a Decepticon. To be told she wasn't interested in fighting and to be told some of her own personal thoughts all in the same day definitely categorized Deatheye as a rare jewel among the Decepticons. The femme seemed to be a bit anxious of her surroundings, as if she was trading some secret information. It all sounded like she wasn't supposed to be a Decepticon all together. Shame, perhaps she was an outcaste. Luckily this wasn't the first time he'd helped out a lost soul. As a medic, he supposed it as his job to help his patients mentally and physically. She was practically admitting that she wanted help. Or at least that was the message Knaught found was conveyed in her words.
"This damaged terrain is nary a location to acquire proper answers Deatheye." Knaught said as he looked up into her optics thoughtfully, "It would seem to me that though answers are not inscribed amongst this wreckage which surrounds us, thou cometh here for a quiet place to think deeply. To be paralyzed in a dreamless sleep for fifty years would indeed invoke a dizzying sensation." Knaught's brow slowly furrowed some as he cocked his helm.
"Do enlighten me, how did thou become a Decepticon, and are those memories or small details which thou recall dreary too? Art thou unsure of them as well?" Knaught asked calmly. He had concern glowing in his optics, which he did not bother to hide. The femme looked lost, and though he had just met her, she seemed to be a rather open book. How did he not know this was all an act? Her vice and actions made everything look quite genuine...
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 5, 2015 15:39:30 GMT
I... She tried digging into her memory core, but all she found was distorted pictures with strange colours, sound and image. I'm afraid there is nothing on that in my mind. Her expression had changed to confused and she averted her optics to the ground now, clearly searching for something. Moments would pass that she'd be unfocused to focused, lost to found and so on. Every memory is only what has happened before coming here. Sir has told me that I was in a pod, in a battlefield. My Grandmother found me, but that's all that I really can picture in my mind.... Straightening up again, she gathered herself, But no matter.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 6, 2015 4:39:52 GMT
Knaught continued to listen, as doing so, he found some pieces of rubble which he could stack up properly, to make a crude looking chair with four supports. He did a similar thing with other chunks of cement and broken iron wire, so that he could sit down as well as Deahteye, if she chose to do so. Knaught found it easier to think when he was either sitting or lying down. It was just something that made his train of thought run smoother. The sixteen foot mech gave off a small and thoughtful ex-hale, tilting his helm back to a regular position after it had been cocked to the side.
"I find two areas remaining untouched Deatheye. I out of a curiosity for thine own well-being, I kindly request to know first who is this 'Sir' thou repeatedly refer to, and where precisely were thou awakened."
Knaught asked. He'd heard of bots with fuzzy memory before. True, Stasis could do that to you, but he had recently come out of his won stasis pod after a few decades or so. Knaught tried o look at Deatheye closely from where he was. The thin dwarf-like mech could see she was indeed clearly in some forms of vague distress. Not that she was utterly helpless, she was a soldier, but even the mightiest warriors required assistance at times. Though again, Knaught could not help but muse, for a Decepticon Deatheye seemed rather different. Almost to the extent she was out of place...No, he couldn't determine things the early on, now could he.
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 6, 2015 17:21:03 GMT
Deatheye looked at the chairs, then glanced at Plexo. What was she doing? She was giving away her weaknesses, things that would proclaim her as one of them. With the softest growl, she stood in the same spot, 'Sir', just so happens to be the mech whose optics are as souless and empty as an Autobot's lifeless shell. Speaking of dead Autobots, there was a small temptation withinher to bring her weapon out to the mech, but her reprogramming seemed to be stopped. Too much information has been spilt, I can no longer be company with the likes of you. Harsh as she sounded, her face held a sour expression, not towards him, but towards herself for not doing the Decepticons proud by destroying him.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 8, 2015 3:24:49 GMT
Knaught blinked his single normal optic at her in small shock how she seemingly and suddenly faded from a talkative femme to one which sounded like she held a grudge against him. Not all that warm and cozy, but Knaught should have been grateful for even getting this far with a Decepticon on the first day.
"'One with lifeless optics'? I hmm. I hold no record of such a mech..." Knaught trailed off more to himself then the femme. he gazed up to her after a second,
"If thou desire to take thine absence, then abide by thine own judgement femme. I am simply endeavoring to assist thee in thine toils. The information thou has exchanged with me is truly of no tactical value. Perhaps personal in thine case, but I am but a doctor; not in the slightest bent on using all data I receive to twisting beings into mine victims for my own desires." Knaught stated. He didn't move, or show any sign of fear though the femme's threatening tone made some of this bubble;e inside him. He knew she could easily conquer him in combat. He only knew a few basic evasive maneuvers, and this and that, but not anything to slay someone.
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 8, 2015 4:00:48 GMT
To be honest, she just wanted him to shut up already before her 'good side' forced her to stay. Deatheye turned her back on him slowly, but paused, Oh, and a word of advice, Knaught. Don't talk to strangers. Taking in a deep vent, she faced forward again and walked, though her steps her hesitant. She shouldn't have left, there was something about the Autobots, not him particularly, but their side seemed more careful, not careful as in cautious, but careful, as in caring for any Cybertronian. I guess caring would be the main word, but she was more brawn than brain at the moment.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 9, 2015 0:44:38 GMT
Knaught saw how the femme was closing herself up, her personality acting as a fail-safe. Something in her didn't like that he was helping her, and so she was leaving since that something was powerful enough to pull her away from him. Knaught thought about the situation, concluding that he had nothing to lose as of now, and taking a risk for a patient's sake was worth his while. It was his job after all. Knaught stood up from his hand-made seat, before rushing up beside Deatheye.
'Oh, and a word of advice, Knaught. Don't talk to strangers.'
Deatheye warned him. Her voice indicated she wouldn't be scared to apply her weapons to the situation if he pushed his luck. The small canister-like objects on Knaught's back whirred uneasily, as if his body were giving him a warning as well. Knaught inhaled quietly, before he continued to walk beside Deatheye,
"Is there something that disturbs thy instincts with me endeavoring to assist? Or I am simply interrupting an ancient thought pattern which hath run in thine helm for centuries; old teachings which thou grew up with?" Knaught asked, though he could see a punch coming, or her blade swinging for his throat. it would be something he expected from her at this stage...
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Post by RedOptics on Jul 9, 2015 18:31:55 GMT
Deatheye was tempted to grab his face, but clearly held back the urge. I have no orders to kill anyone, the 'Cons don't know where I am, and what situation I'm in with you being here. But they will smile upon knowing I got rid of one pest. Then she took a deep vent, trying to calm down some, And what disturbs me is exactly that, instantly becoming a so called 'friend', just by bumping into me. But the femme then paused, using a much quieter tone, Is... that what sets you apart?
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Jul 11, 2015 0:53:03 GMT
Knaught flinched at the femme's words, her tone and expression when she spoke the first part of her reply. She was frightening him some, but he would just have to stick by and manage his emotions so that he didn't look like a coward, and so that he could learn more on this troubled femme. The black and white mech did arch a brow at what she said next however, which made him tilt his helm down in consideration. It was something to just become friend by simply encountering someone, but all relationships started somewhere. As for him or the Autobots being set apart...
"I would be pleased with mine-self to state that any Autobot would have pulled thou aside, allowing their audio receptors to heed thine words, and contemplate on what course of action to take with thee. However, in this age, both factions have darkened in their thoughts and methods. A quarter of mine faction be imbeciles, while another quarter hath succumbed to black doings, dieting their servos in the name of our first leader, Optimis Prime. But the other half..." Knaught trailed off, looking to the sky, "I believe them to be a more or the last pure form of Autobot. A kind which will express empathy, a type of mech or femme who aspire mend any wounded soul. A perfect example is, once again Optimis Prime. Those femmes and mechs are, in mine view, what truly set the Autobots apart from the Decepticons." Knaught said.
"As for me? I am not certain what precisely I am yet, even though my journey hath been a long one. As a medic however, I do believe it is my duty to help anyone who requires thus...whether they ask for help or not. However if aforesaid subject refuses overtime, I will allow them to be free of mine care."
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