So... We're all going to die horribly. Since there's no way we could possibly survive this, I'll be at the bar making whatever people want. I mean anything.

[If he can't make it, he'll figure it out.]

Drinking has to be better than watching us all die, right?




[Super open log post of open is here. Tag each other. Tag for Dead End. Tag to discuss plans with others for coming out of this event alive. Make your own threads there, whatever. Bar party of doom for everyone!]

[Someone has the best timing from wandering out of the badlands.]

I died, didn't I? ...Figures. I look horrible... If I did, what was the point in bringing me back? I'm not exactly worth anything. Seems like a wasted effort.

My processor is killing me. Don't... really know where I am right now. Not that it matters, I'll probably just end up dead again.

...

The planet's not about to explode and kill us all, right? It would be my luck to come back just for that.

[Now here's a voice that hasn't been around for a while. The feed is unfortunately littered with static, but not enough that what Dead End's saying can't be made out.]

I- uh...



--What happened?

I'm not really expecting an answer, considering how most of you hate me... But uh. Don't suppose we're in need of a bartender? ...Maybe?



( PRIVATE TO: RUNG )

[There's a sad little pomeranian giving puppy eyes at the screen. Something tragic has clearly occurred. Thankfully this time around he comes with translations.]

Has anyone seen Sissel? He's missing...

[This is clearly one of the worst days of his life. Possibly the worst. Yeah, definitely the worst.]

[Why it's the puffiest little pomeranian you ever did see! The little black dog has two odd orange stripes upon its head and bright green eyes, it also seems to be panicking - running in circles and on and off screen.

Eventually it runs off, returning with some scrap before running off yet again. This continue for a while until there's a decent amount of scrap on the screen, laid out in a particular pattern. The pattern in question seems to read:

SISSEL HELP

But it's in Cybertronian letters, so this little thing will need a lot of luck for his target to actually understand what he's written.

After another doggy dance of panic, he runs off again, returning with more scrap and adding in something else:

WHIRL?

Maybe his messages might go through. If he's lucky.]

I know most of you here already hate me, those of you that know about my diet even more so.

[He pauses, hesitant for a moment before venting out a sigh.]

I eat power cores. Yes, I'm a cannibal, a vampire, a freak, crazy and whatever else the rest of you call me. Hate the word crazy... I get it, if I don't die from starvation I'll be horribly murdered... Or tortured then murdered - probably that one knowing my luck. I accept that. This is just like back home, not that I expected any different.

So go ahead and say whatever the scrap you want about me, just stop doing it to my face. Please... Not that I expect anyone to listen. Just fragging can't take it anymore. Had enough vorns of this...

[Some hours after this.]

Uh...

[Dead End is propped up against one of the killer centipedes - thankfully the creature is dead - looking like he's just been through the Pit. He's covered in dents, scratches and scrapes, and there's puncture wounds all over him. It really makes him look like he was used as a chew toy. One of his feet has clearly been hit with acid, and the tire on that same leg is flat and mauled to shreds. What was once his windshield - located on his chest - is now shattered and cracked, there's barely any of it left, and worst of all one of his wings seems to have been ripped in half.

It hasn't been a good day for him, and he looks as broody as ever. Although sitting next to him is what looks to be a part of the bug's internal workings. With the way it's set and cut it's pretty clear that it was removed intentionally. At least Dead End seems to have gotten something out of this.

After a moment of silence he rattles off some coordinates, very precise, like he's just doing a job.]

There's a bunch of holes there, so if you're in Alpha Trion's quadrant for any reason I'd say stay away from that spot. Probably more of these things there... We'll probably all be eaten.

Uh... before the finger pointing starts, whoever died, I swear I didn't kill them.

[Someone found his present.]




...Rung? I found a box with your name on it. If you want it.

[The video starts with a brightly coloured sports car driving at top speeds towards a building. Within the last minute instead of stopping, it flips up and drives up the building's side, transforming once it reaches the roof. It's nothing too special. Just a tiny stunt.]


...That good enough, Sissel?



( PRIVATE TO: NEXUS PRIME )

... There's a good amount of humans here, right? So, uhh...

[Being social. It's clear that Dead End hasn't been social in a long time. But when you spend most of your time brooding in the dark, you don't really have much time to talk to people... About things that aren't power cores and death.]

Someone want to tell me about your species? ... Maybe?

Don't suppose anyone has a spare power core... or two?

Could really use one right now, doubt I'll be so lucky... I'll take a buffer if no one has any power cores.

[There is a lot of neon on the screen right now. Orange, green, yellow, it's all so very bright... What kind of bot would choose such a paint job? One that looks incredibly like the Prime Wheeljack, that's who. In fact were it not for the paint job, that blindingly bright neon green 'Con symbol and that face, this guy could probably pass himself off as Wheeljack.]

Cybertron, huh? Same planet, different universe, or whatever - if this even is any of that. Doesn't matter... The war started yet? It's only a matter of time, really. We'll all end up offlined and rusted. No avoiding it. I'm probably going to starve here.

[He vents a sigh.]

What's the point?

[Well isn't he just a bundle of sunshine and rainbows!]