[Video] DJD PSA: For Your Edification

[songofmypeople]

[The video opens with Tarn and-- wait... is that-- is there something sticking out of his neck? Are there multiple things sticking out the side of his neck? It's hard to tell from this far away and they're small, but ... are those maybe... white robot parasites????]

This evening, leaving Prima's temple, I was attacked. [He doesn't sound all that upset] Unfortunate, yes, but there can be a lesson here. It seems we have a mnemosurgeon among us. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, allow me to educate you.

[The camera pans out to show Tarn holding an abused looking Chromedome. The Autobot's head is lolling at an unnatural angle, and his neck is a pink, bloody mess -- as is most of him, actually -- with wires that should probably be inside his throat tubing... outside.]

I'd like you to meet our brave assailant. You'll note that he's an Autobot. [Tarn hefts the body up by its elbow until Chromedome's chest and brand are visible (along with the charred remains of what use to be his stomach. Anything south of there is simple gone, as is one arm that was obviously ripped off, given the torn look about the shoulder.)] He's also a member of your local police force.

Motivation is clear. That this has happened so soon after your Defense Committee passed their policies, tragically suggests: some people aren't too happy with power being wrest from their grasp --- one faction in particular it would seem; the controlling majority. Autobots.

I'd ask this one who he was working with, but I'm afraid his vocal hardware was damaged while I was defending myself. But back to the topic at hand.

[Carefully, movements soft, Tarn crouches to lay Chromedome down on the ground, supporting his head the entire time. He ignores the way the Autobot's eyes flicker in panic, and how the remaining arm pushes against his massive chest weakly. Catching the limb by its wrist, Tarn holds it up for the camera.]

A relatively unassuming hand, you might think to yourself, but fetching the other half of this matching pair... [He lets the first arm fall, reaches over and picks up the second.] You'll notice the needles. [There are two missing that look like they've been snapped off at the base] These are the tools of a mnemosurgeon's trade.

Upon injecting these, he's able to manipulate the brain's motivations, loyalty, and even memories. They're slender, yes, but incredibly sharp and can pierce through metal with barely a trace.  [Tilting his head slightly, Tarn very gently pulls out the two needles embedded in his own neck and holy robot-god those were in really deep because he just keeps on slowly pulling and pulling until they're finally out. ] Let me show you.

[One of those broken needles is pressed tip first through Chromedome's visor and into his eye] An educational necessity, but don't worry, it's harmless and he doesn't feel a thing. [The second needle is pushed in beside the first before Tarn straightens, along with the video; Chromedome's quiet, sad, wet sounds fading with the distance.]

I'll be keeping what's left of the immobility device, but should the police want the remains of their machine, they need only ask. I won't be requiring an apology this time either; Autobots don't seem particularly forthcoming with admitting fault.

As for your officer, I've left him where I found him so as not to aggravate his injuries. Hurry, he might still be alive when you get here.

To the rest of you, I suggest you question your interaction with the police force. You may not be the same person you once were.

[Spoiler: while Domey might be able to drag himself a little ways, he's not getting far in this life; which is to say he'll be mostly to completely dead before anyone can reach him.]

[Private Encrypted Audio to Dirge:]
He's all yours.

Comments

[we_re_doomed]

Oh, well, yes – there is that.

We droids do not have factions specifically set for our kind, you see. My primary function as a protocol droid is to serve as a translator and mediator between parties. Whoever our assigned masters are, we do our best to follow orders accordingly.

Hey kid, would you like to be a Decepticon?

[songofmypeople]

And do you happen to find yourself missing a master?

DO I?? 8D /Freakazoid

[we_re_doomed]

Presently. Only presently.

He likes you already

[songofmypeople]

I have an immediate solution for you.

Should he be worried??

[we_re_doomed]

[There's a noticeable pause. He fidgets a little.]

And...that solution is?

Shh, no, Tarn has many (2) new harmless Decepticon friends. You'll fit right in~~ Shh, let it happen

[songofmypeople]

You sound uncomfortable.

[Tarn's voice, which was already a sweet thing to listen to, drops down into a paternally concerned tone.]

JKadjklds screee

[we_re_doomed]

Uncomfortable? Oh, no, it just seems that way!

[Lies. He still isn't sure about this.]

[songofmypeople]

Why don't you tell me about your interests. Relax.

[Look at you! You're already practicing the art of Deception! It's your calling!]

[we_re_doomed]

[See his journal name? That just says it all.]

My interests, sir? I don't suppose my current programming can also be considered as such?

[songofmypeople]

[When you're dealing with Tarn... pretty much unless he gets distracted, in which case, wow, just hold still and he might forget all about you.]

And that programming would be...?

[we_re_doomed]

[Oh maker what are those sparkles Sob]

I am fluent in over six million forms of communication. This lends a hand in translating for mediation purposes. Protocol and service is my very being, sir.

[And he sounds so proud.]

[songofmypeople]

[Is Tarn biting his lip behind his mask right now? We may never know.]

And can you read music? Or the Primal Vernicular?

[we_re_doomed]

Music is on an entirely different spectrum, sir. While it is easy to parse notes, it is for those who are more artistically-oriented. The Primal Vernacular, however, may take some time. I would have to cross-reference languages and writing forms to make any sense of it.

[songofmypeople]

Would you like to learn the Vernicular? I could teach you.

[we_re_doomed]

Teach me?

...There's enough room in my processors. Why, I would think it beneficial in the long run – depending on how long I remain here, of course.

[songofmypeople]

It's a complex language, but I'd be willing to go over the basics with you. You sound like you could be a quick enough study.

As for your best bet on returning home: that remains the Decepticons.

[we_re_doomed]

Goodness, I hope so.

I, C-3PO, accept your assistance.

[songofmypeople]

A good choice. Now, why don't we solve that master problem of yours too?

[we_re_doomed]

Oh, yes, about that–

[Hold up]

–H-how are we going about this?

[songofmypeople]

Nothing more arduous than swearing your allegiance to someone committed to seeing this universe a safer, more peaceful place.

[we_re_doomed]

Which inevitably means you are that "someone" I should swear my allegiance to for the time being?

[songofmypeople]

A good guess, but no. Your new master will be a fierce and brilliant poet.

[we_re_doomed]

A poet? Oh my. While I do feel relieved that it isn't you, this being you have described sounds nothing like Master Luke.

[songofmypeople]

Should I feel insulted? [His voice lilts, so he's probably joking]

Regardless, I'm sure you'll come to be quite fond of your new shepherd. Few have his presence.

[we_re_doomed]

Thank you, sir, for this information. Preparation is all I need to do for this encounter.

[Even if he does still feel uneasy about the whole deal. Surely it will subside.]