re_alignment | [TEXT] [TRANSMISSION ORIGINATING FROM: LIEGE'S FORTRESS]

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✘ 9 | 4

[TEXT] [TRANSMISSION ORIGINATING FROM: LIEGE'S FORTRESS]

[He can hear it out there, the fighting and the screeches of the monsters. It's an all too familiar sound, and it takes every ounce of courage Four has to not find a blanket to curl under and stay there forever. Four has a spectacular memory, and he remembers everything he saw during the last days of humanity. He remembers those sounds so clearly that they almost match the distant explosions of battles being fought. The only thing absent here is the screams of dying humans, and his family.

The choices he has are either to give in to his crippling fear, or try to do something.

But what? He has no illusions about his size, and what possible help can he be anyway? He's a chronicler, a librarian. The most he can do is to record what's happening as they happen. Four wouldn't be worrying so much if it weren't for the fact that he had made friends recently, and he'd very much like to keep those.

At the very least he should see if they're alright.]

I am not a very courageous person, but I do not fear for myself during this time. I fear for all those who are brave enough to fight those monsters. My only hope is that all of you will be alive and well in the end. I wish I could help. can someone tell me a story?

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[ Ratchet sounds... busy. There's no injured mechs to be treated just yet, but he's prepping supplies -- sorting bits of scrap that he'd collected into proper places for efficiency's sak -- so the clinking and rattling of metal sounds in the background as he speaks. ]

Not all of us are meant for battle... but it is frustrating, isn't it?

[ There's a vaguely parental affection in his tone of voice -- based on Four's last request, Ratchet's decided that he must be very young. ]

What kind of story do you want to pass the time with?

[Ah, it's good to hear a familiar voice! It means that someone he knows is still alive.]

I couldn't fight if I wanted to. Hmm story... I think a nice one. Or a funny one, whichever you prefer, please.

Hmm. A nice, funny story.

[ He searches his databanks for one such tale, and decides that human fables might work best for this child. They're short, simple, and they teach lessons. Ratchet's always been fun of things with multiple purposes. ]

Have you ever heard the story of the time the sun and the wind had a contest?

[Even if Four had, he would have sad no just to get the chance to hear it being told to him by someone else. Since arriving, he's come to realize that he rather likes the sound of voices, and really enjoys listening to them.]

No, I have not. What's it about?

Aah. Well. It's exactly what it sounds like.

[ Ratchet settles into story telling mode. ]

The Sun and the Wind were arguing, you see, about which of them was stronger. Below them, a traveller was walking on the road, wearing a warm coat, and, to settle their argument they decided that the first one to get the traveller to take his coat off would be considered stronger.

"Aha!", said the Wind. "I'll use the strength of my gusts to blow his coat right off his shoulders!"

But the more he blew, the closer the traveller pulled his coat into himself, until the Wind was out of breath.

"Fine! This must be impossible." Sulking, the Wind stepped back and turned to the Sun. "You try."

Instead of responding, the Sun came forward with a smile. She shone bright and hot, and soon the traveller was sweating and pulling his coat off.

[ Ratchet pauses to let the story (and it's built-in lesson) sink in. ]

And that's how the Wind was forced to confess that the Sun was the stronger of them.

[Stories like this are Four's favourites. Though pretty new to the world, he's learned enough to know that this is one of those stories with a meaning. Carefully he examines the story again within his mind, thinking about each word and the tone Ratchet used to describe them.]

It is a story about how kindness is a greater strength than force. The Wind could not win through brute force, but the Sun won because she was kind and gentle. Thank you for the story, I greatly appreciate it!

Yes, exactly.

And not a problem, ah... I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name before.

My name is 4. Where did you hear that story?

Hello Four.

I heard the story on Earth, actually. There's many a Cybertronian tale as well, but they're a bit longer and more... complicated.

[Thanks to Primus Blurr can multi task easily, he's running and tiring the monsters while talking. Try to ignore the angry sounds mixed with his voice, some sharkticons aren't happy.]

Have I ever told you that you remind me of Wheelie? He's a friend of mine a small bot too he's very young but he had to deal with some bad things happening in his life already but he always put on a brave face I WONDER what is he and Dugbase doing now.

Whatsortofstoriesdoyoulike?

[Oh hey, Four's getting better at understanding your chatter speak Blurr! He doesn't even need to play it back in his head this time.]

I like all stories! How about you tell me about Wheelie? Are you okay? It sounds as if you are in trouble...

[That's awesome, you are a fast learner Four.]

So do I even if I am kind of biased to those stories with a happy ending.

[Okay that he can do, talking is Blurr's thing.] Alright! As I said he's small for a Cybertronian because he's very young but he's still a much bigger mech than you HE'S half my size give or take. Wheelie likes to talk in rhymes I could never figure out why he does that and trust me I tried to figure it out often but it doesn't bother me at all and I think he's very talented .

Oh no no no no don't worry I am used to this. [Casually talking and running, fighting monsters ...pick your choice.]

[Nope you can't tell him not to worry because he's definitely going to worry. As weird as you are Blurr, he kinda likes you. As someone who doesn't talk, he finds chatterboxes kind of entertaining.]

Where did you meet Wheelie? What does he look like? And I will worry for you anyway.

[Fine then little one, worry as much as you need. He likes you too.]

I met Wheelie not long after he was brought back to Cybertron by the Silver Guardians. HE was very lonely and had no one to look after him so my friend Dug Base and me started to hang out with him. Wheelie's not the biggest bot around but if you measure strength by size alone you will end mistaken. He's a sur-vi-vor and a damn good one at that.

That's....really kind of you actually.

Thank you, surviving is what my kind do best.

[Except when they, you know, end up having their souls sucked out of them by an evil machine.]

You and your friend are both very kind people, I am sure Wheelie is happy to have you.

My kind is good at adapting and surviving comes after that IT IS good to know we have that in common. Can you tell me more about yourself and your people I AM interested.

[A minor inconvenience, clearly that one eyes machine's fault. One eyed robots are baaaaad.]

[Oh... praising, he's not very used to that.]Ahthankyousomuch We just try to help.

You can help. Can you find a vantage point? High up?

If you can, you can let anyone know if these things get too close to the fortress.

[You...really don't want Drift to tell you a story. ]

[A chance to be helpful! An exciting and somewhat terrifying prospect.]

I think I can, heights do not bother me overly much. Are you okay, Drift? You have not been injured have you?

Don't put yourself in any danger. But we could use the warning.

[Drift knew how important it was, sometimes, to be part of something, to have something to do, some way to belong. He simply thinks everyone's like him. ]

Injured? [It's Drift. The answer is yes.] Nothing I can't handle

[Whoops, now he's worried.]

Shouldn't you find a medic?

[Do not worry, because that makes Drift feel weird.]

The medics need to be safe in Solus's temple.

Not out where I am.

[Four will worry if he wants to, thank you.]

If you are injured, perhaps you should go to them.

[They will glaringly disagree about who gets to worry about Drift.]

I can still fight. They need me here, fighting.

[If there's a problem with Four worrying about Drift, than Drift can take it up with Four directly. Don't think that just because he's only seven inches tall he can't scold robots.]

At what point will you consider yourself injured enough to go?

[Drift very well may take it up with him....until he realizes how small he is.]

When I can't fight anymore.

[Driftlogic ftw.]

You can help, actually.

[He's a bit busy right now, but not so much that he isn't paying attention. It is what he does.]

And I will tell you a story, if you will owe me one in return. [He smiles, a bit, to show that he'd really rather enjoy a story later, after all of this.]

[The depth in this one's voice says that he's a very big robot, that's all Four can observe from it.]

How can I help when all I am is a librarian? That sounds fair! I've read a lot of stories back home, I'll be happy to share.

Merely a librarian? How shameful. [He chuckles.] I'll have you know I'm an archivist, and I find nothing abhorrent about libraries.

[He lives in one.]

Someone who can record is exactly what I need right now, however. Do you believe you could watch the Link Network, and see what sorts of Monsters your comrades are fighting? That information would be invaluable to me.

Certainly worth more than just one story.

Edited 2012-07-14 04:13 (UTC)

[That definitely perks Four up. This kind of information gathering is exactly what he's made for... literally. Alright he prepares to examine the others on the network after he's done talking here.]

I find no fault in libraries either, I live in one back home. I just didn't see how my skills could be any help... but I will be happy to do as you request! May I ask your name? Mine's 4.

You should come and see my libraries some time. I am always looking for more information to put in them, and it sounds like you might have plenty to share.

[Because anyone who lives in a library? Is awesome in his book. Uh. Literally.]

I am Alpha Trion. If you'll forgive me, though, I'll have to save the story until after the battle--there are mechs who are depending on me.

I did not realize that there were libraries here! I would be thrilled to see them, and I would be happy to contribute. I am unsure what information you could want from me however, besides the information on the monsters. I can wait for a story, it really isn't that important.

I'd find it difficult to believe there is a person out there without some interesting tidbit to share. You hardly seem to be an exception.

The monster data will be of great help, however.

We will be in touch after the battle is won.

[Elita's mostly looking at this because it's such an... unusual request. And in the middle of a minor crisis, as well.]

I suppose sometimes, even wishing others to be safe is useful.

[If not very efficient, but at least whoever this is recognizes their own limits, which is just as well. Inbetween Elita speaking, there's the occasional crunch of metal, or the whine of laser blasts. Sometimes a more thrumming, near-silent static noise as Elita fires her own weapon.]

... I'm not much for stories, but if I have time, I could perhaps share something. Anything in particular you're looking for?

[Four frets a little with a piece of string he has clutched between his hands. That sounds like fighting, and he can't help but feel a little distressed over it. Pushing back that, he carefully analyses her voice, memorizing the rise and fall of her tone, as well as how she forms her words. He has the feeling that if he pays close enough attention, he'll be able to tell Cybertronians from humans based on voice alone.

He's not completely sure what she is, but he realizes that that isn't all that important right now.]

Any story is fine with me. Maybe one from your home?

[She takes a while to respond - nearly a full ten minutes - but Elita isn't foolish enough to split her attention when she needs to concentrate.]

How about the very first story? Origins are good places to start, after all...

[And, he might be interested anyway, since Four ought to quickly notice some similarities with what he might have been told or seen of his current locale. Elita hums before she starts speaking, her low, even pitch nearly disguising the noise of her EMP scrambler.]

In the beginning, there was The One, but being unable to experience all, The One split into two, creating a being that was named Unicron; not yet satisfied with simply one part to send out, The One divided the first creation, naming the second Primus.

[Four will have to excuse the sudden noise of an explosion, as one of the creatures managed to die in a particularly... incendiary manner, though Elita's muttered swearing is unintegible before she continues.

This is a challenge, since telling a story is also about the experience, not just the words, but she finds it's an interesting one, especially while attempting to fight at the same time. An evolution of snarking at her targets.]

The two were sent forth to experience the universe, but Primus soon realized that his brother had stopped merely observing and was destroying. At first, he attacked his brother directly, but Unicron was more than a match for him. Primus then shifted the battle to a form insubstantial to most senses, and then back into the physical world.

When all senses were returned, the first and the second of The One's creations realized they were trapped; they had re-manifested inside planetoids. Primus had known and prepared for this sacrifice, hoping to trap Unicron irrevocably, and it nearly worked.

But even Primus' cunning couldn't stop his brother's determination, and Unicron transformed the planet he inhabited... at first into metal, and then into a shape that matched the form he'd had on the insubstantial astral plane.

Primus, observing this, wouldn't usurp the natural order of things so severely; while his body became metal, from said metal his chosen weapons were formed, even as he stayed in his newly gained form to afford his creations somewhere to fight Unicron the Chaosbringer from.

---a moment.

[Elita huffs, and on her end launches into fighting again, but from the pause at the end, it's clear the story's finished. Story... or history?

Or, perhaps here, future, rather.]

[Four listens carefully to her story, memorizing everything from the many unfamiliar words to the tone she chooses to use. As she speaks, his mind flickers back through his memories, randomly picking up myths he already knows and comparing it to her story.

So this is the story of her world? He makes a note to talk to the others about their worlds, and then see the similarities and differences between the two.]

Is this the true story of your race, or merely a myth?

[It takes a few minutes for Elita to reply again, but she doesn't sound out of breath or strained - if a cybertronian even can be such - when she does.]

It... well, it was considered myth, but over fifteen years ago, a lot of those myths were confirmed as real when Unicron attacked Cybertron, and Primus spoke through an avatar.

Fascinating. What consequences came from this? If you do not mind my asking.

Ultimately..? We got Cybertron back. Not that we'd really lost it, but it's more or less disrupted, if not completely finished, the war, and we've been rebuilding.

[She shrugs, the noise a faint slide of metal.]

If they hadn't won against Unicron, none in... as I understand it, our whole reality would be alive or existing by now. Unicron consumes all.

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