re_alignment | [Voice] attempted filter way from Ramjet. key word attempted.

[That attempted filter almost does its job, but the little flaws manage to catch his attention, make him curious... and he doesn't so much as hack the code as simply unravel it.

Well, that's... Interesting. That's Nemesis and yet... there's a qualitative as well as quantitative difference in his voice that lends a dissonance. But far more alive than Ramjet's ever heard him.

It makes sense, he supposes. He has no idea what happened to Nemesis after the end of his battle with Vector.]

Hmmm. They got you, Prime? Such a pity.

[It doesn't matter who "they" are, doesn't matter that he doesn't know; Nemesis' said enough he can hear the flaws, the not-quite-rights and that's as delightful as anything. He's not smirking, but the flare of his aura underlays the audio with a dissonance of his own. He'll play it your way. For now.]

But thank you for the sterling words of recommendation. Tell me... Are you marked as some of the poor, unfortunate sparks here are? Or has such... protection not been extended to you?

[really, he doesn't (think he) need to ask, and the mocking tone clearly expresses that.]

[THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PRIVATE WHAT THE]

[RECOVERY TIME yeah he meant you to find it

totally]

It's a long story.

The short of it is that my status is no longer any of your concern.

[fml]

[it's okay Nemesis he knows you meant to do that. totally. just a round-about way to catch his attention, clearly!]

I think there's time for the telling.

[and, compared to the mocking from earlier, he does sound... genuinely(?) interested.]

Your voice belies you, Prime. There's life where there was once less, but there's cracks... [Nemesis probably doesn't need to see to be able to imagine the tilt of Ramjet's helm, deceptively gentle, curious. and then topic change. quite abrupt, too.] You don't happen to have my little minions do you, and I assume there's no scrapmetal around here.

[even though it was Nemesis that made them work for them last time around.]

You should try the next dimension over. I thought I heard some mindless chitter there.

[read; gtfo]

Maybe I would, if this one wasn't oh-so-very shiny. It's so new it's making my wingtips ache, Prime. A fragile little spark-less crystal. Hollow, even as it rings with his touch!

[no, he likes it here. if just that ugly bright light could be turned off, though... Ramjet laughs, quietly, voice reverberating enough it makes the audio fizze and skip. overdoing it like usual.]

But it also seems Unicron wishes me here. I would so hate to dissapoint, and since you're here, it seems like an opportunity...

[he says it slowly, both confounded and convinced of it, but that's as far as he'll go to even mention that at the moment his ability to traverse the dimensions seem... stunted. he could still tell you exactly where, in which direction and whatever else navigational means one can find dimension by, that Unicron is in, but at the moment... the Lamdba presses down on him as much as anyone else, though to Ramjet it's... perversely, perhaps, even something of a comfort. pleasant, as it were.

Tiny little angy tongues of chaos, of threat and promise and want and deman.]

You always have been distracted easily.

[he exvents, heavily. perhaps it's just him growing used to it, but...it's been three years since his doorwings gave him any data he could truly use. Lambda, Rift...

is it worth even having them anymore?]

That said, I doubt it is the opportunity you think - unless Unicron has finally deigned to notice my absence and opposition.

Maybe possibilities, and plans that could be, or never are... Focus splintering becomes new angles of attack, dear Prime. There's always a chance something coming up might be worth it even if it's not the easy way.

[and at least landing here had given him a moment a chance to pull together into something useful again. and then, suddenly, Ramjet turns the video on on his side, helm tilted, hands danging between his thighs as he hits on scrap that's only slowly having their essence ripped away, atom by paintful atom.

then he holds up a finger, flat and properly jointed at the moment.]

No request, no demand, no orders. I'll do as I will until that comes, and while that is exploring that which holds Unicron's presence the thickest beside that delightful thing in the sky as well as corrupting this empty vessel as best I can... What if the opportunity is mine?

[Unicron is silent in this, which means... how secure is your location, Nemesis? how secure is this transmission from him using it to find you?]

Can you stop me, Prime?

[his chin and mask split apart, neat, sharp teeth belying the fitful, oozing melting and reforming further below.]

Can those children, the marked ones, the first of this world, so very bright and yet young, stop me before I've done what I may?

[...

Nemesis doesn't respond at first. he knows very well what Ramjet is capable of, and while he's not afraid of him...he /is/ afraid for this world. it's why he made this broadcast in the first place; to warn them. to alert them of the danger. to try and get those who could stop Ramjet...]

One of the failings of life is that it simply does not know when to stop. It continues to struggle, even when hopelessly outmatched. Even when all hope is gone, there will still be a voice, tiny and ignorant, protesting the inevitable end refusing to simply accept its fate.

[and yet...

and yet.]

But I have learned that, contrary to all sense and logic, sometimes that is enough.

[he switches on the video now. instead of dead and black, his optics are blazing red, narrow and intent with life - his armor is still dark as night, but there is new shape and form even with however familiar it may be.]

And you forget, Ramjet - you were stopped before. I was stopped, those hundreds of thousands of years ago, by none other than an intent Child of Primus - not one of these 'Firstforged', simply one in the right place at the right time. The very last moment, if you will. And another set reminded me that there was more than just Unicron and his way, that for all the agony life gives, there is more.

And that more - however bittersweet it is - is worth fighting the unstoppable for.

[in short;]

I imagine I speak for all of them when I say that we can do - will do - no less than try.

Edited 2012-11-16 01:10 (UTC)

[no, Nemesis, no. you would speak to him about the outright foolishness of life, that inevitable, persistent struggling? what does it look like what got him here? suddenly there seems to be less of Ramjet, some parts of him having melted away and briefly a single long, white tentacle with blue patterns, a perfect meld between metal and organic lash around the herald before slowly being pulled in, fitting back as proper metal in his frame as Ramjet laughs. despite the laughter, what he says comes across clearly.]

I know! [his arms flare out, tossing melting metal and greenish boils in their wake.] What will be left in the end is tiny, hopeless, meaningless flickers that struggle when there's nothing left to struggle against! When the struggle itself has no meaning but that's all it can do! What meaning does it carry, when life continues to persist beyond life itself?!

[he surges up, aura flaring, scrap exploding-imploding about him and several small tentacles of various make boil out, collapse and are reintegrated.]

Do you see, then? The struggle itself is as much of Unicron as it belongs to Primus, but in the end---

[there's a heave, Ramjet straightens and suddenly he looks almost completely pristine, for a suspended, meaningless moment. it's an illusion after all, but at least he can address that other point. nevermind those slightly sulkily crossed arms.]

And I've been stopped before. Will again. As well as I, and Unicron, have and shall triumph! Does it matter? And if you'd stand against me, Prime... tell me, where are you now? How easily would this simple little device tell me your location?

Edited 2012-11-16 01:31 (UTC)

Your living hell is the least you deserve for your willing crimes.

[and that is...maybe not sorrow, maybe not pity, but Ramjet. former-bro.

for all those mean words, it's still not something he would have wished on anyone. and what's visible of his face says as much.

at least, what doesn't briefly flicker in alarm. thank goodness for facemasks, because as it is, it's only a momentary glint in his optics]

I haven't bothered to see how advanced they are.

[THIS IS HIS 'idgaf' FACE. it hides the fact he's already calculating routes to get /moving/, or maybe get Barricade to help hide his signal, or-]

I see you've either picked up lying or a bit more guile in the years between my now and yours, Prime.

[the proper word might be "a bit more complexity", perhaps, since the broken, single-purposed Nemesis Prime wasn't at all particularly subtle. Ramjet stares, flatly, the glow from his optics almost conceiling the seamless, unsettling flicker between purely mechanical(-looking) optics and something a lot less so.]

Not very, really. It might not be my speciality... [he cocks his helm to the side, the manner curiously similar to a bird as his aura flickers fitfully for a moment...]

But this thing sings to me!

[a laugh spills out, short and as triumphant as anything he let out when the death of Primus seemed an aboslute certaintly as he pops out of view and the feed goes to painful, wailing static---]

It seemed very willing to please.

[that? that's Ramjet's dark chuckle from right behind you, Convoy, slightly before his actual frame takes the place of unknown amounts of atmospheric atoms that shriek into voidless non-exsistance as Ramjet spreads his arms, pleased.

he may not be able to leave, but for the moment this works just as well.]

Edited 2012-11-16 19:11 (UTC)

[incoming in three...two...one...

and there.

Nemesis doesn't turn around. his doorwings /twitch/ at the sudden surge of data they're receiving, more than the Lambda he's already written off as a similar 'noise' than the Rift - Ramjet is /loud/, the anomalies around him a harsh cacophony to sensors meant to help in navigating spacetime.

nevermind...the fact...they haven't been used to really /do/ that in years.]

Interesting, that the 'Firstforged' would allow you on to their system. Then again...

[he lowers his wrist, flexing some of the servos as he digs up old memories. and now he just turns his helm, just slightly]

You were always good at getting in to places you weren't welcome.

[and here Ramjet just bows, sweeping angle of one leg, one arm out, the other bent in front of him, partly melted, organic-ropey wings at a nearly jaunty angle.]

A lot easier when I have help, of course, but these are systems I'm supposed to gently invite the chaos inside of, and lead towards desctruction... Though I doubt this completely belongs to them.

[he tosses the Link device up in the air, uncaring, as he straightens up, and it simply stays there, somehow able to withstand the lick of Ramjet's purple aura fitfully dancing closeby and flaring out at it.]

And talking of those not welcome... [Ramjet grins, flat-edged "mouth" nearly looking like it's his actual one... disregarding the placement and the violent energy swirling within, barely contained.] you don't find it odd, Prime, that you and those others, unmarked as the precious chosen aren't, have access?

[his helm tilts, and he could have made a dig about no matter Convoy's current alliances, his current... very tiny frame, my, his origin ought to make him pretty unwelcome here.

you still smell like Unicron, Nemesis Prime. That pitiful, dark brilliance you call a spark is interlaced with it.]

Edited 2012-11-16 19:30 (UTC)

[it's so easy to remember when he did more than 'smell' like Unicron, with Ramjet here, now. he remembers, clearly, what it was like to serve - the rampant destruction, the slaughter, the too-intense-to-name devotion to the Will that consumed him to where thoughts of anything else could not enter his mind...]

I find many things odd. That is only one of them. And if I was 'chosen', then it would be another.

As it stands, there is clearly more to this place than meets the eye.

[he turns, now, to face Ramjet fully, spreading his hands]

Let us cut to the chase. Were you sent here?

[briefly, Ramjet just stares at Convoy and then, whatever might have caused that reaction to the comment disappears and he taps his chin, thoughtfully.]

Opportunities taken from unintentional ends... No. I believe not.

[there's a smooth, dmuch-too liquid shrug as Ramjet slowly comes closer at an angle towards Convoy. reaching out a finger that turns from proper jointed metal to smooth, covered claw right before he lays a short, but lingering, stroke down Convoy's arm as he passes, continues around the former herald.]

As I said, it matters little; this world is young, but already bears his touch, and an abscense of the creator's despite the presence of the first ones, and it tugs at me! He need not have ordered, regardless for what's already planned; I shall simply deepen the cracks, bring it down all the harder!

[briefly, just as Ramjet rounds Convoy to come around front again, he leans slightly closer, mask by Convoy's audial fins, but not touching anything again. well, not by his frame; his aura's there whether he wills it or not.]

And perhaps you would have been invited... who knows, maybe your darkness would be a needed light against the chaos this poor, precious vessel's suffering from?

[it's tempting to brush him aside. to shove him away. he knows Ramjet well enough to know how little that'd do, as well as other things - appearances, the fact he'd only damage /himself/. so he simply narrows his optics, feigning boredom as Ramjet reaches forwards-

-it burns. quite a bit. even with the alternium-laced Auto-Avatar frame, it feels like Ramjet is stripping off layers of it. he doesn't flinch, though, doesn't glance down - there's been far, far worse pain he's taken.

all he does is turn to keep his optics towards Ramjet. but spark, with him talking, it's like there's a drumming in the back of his mind - no, the Will is more than simply being given directions. even in absence of the Will, there is always more to do, the task never ends until the End, it is only delayed if that-

-he blinks, once, mentally shaking himself out of it as his engine growls. he spins, slightly hunched over, a sneer in his voice]

You expect them to have invited one such as me to stand by their side? Don't make me laugh. For all that I have forsaken Unicron, none of them would lower themselves in such a way.

[it doesn't just burn for Nemesis, as there seems to be some quality that briefly wriggles below, nestling into the energy beneath the shell that's left and it stings.

like distant Matrix-light, and not the Dead Matrix Convoy once bore.]

Why not? It seems to me they aren't doing a very good job of protecting their charge!

Look around!

[Ramjet throws his arms wide, thrusters sending him briefly backwards to enhance to area he's encompassing with the gesture.]

There's more than the seven of the First here, their light burning against the fabric of this reality, so easy to tell with so few of the tiny, feeible sparks around... all of that, and the center still cannot hold, and the lord isn't even present yet! What does that tell you, Prime?

[Ramjet drifts forward, one hand out in an actual, unspoken offer as much as being a simple gesture.]

I feel the seams breaking, Prime. So young, already so weak.

[of course, even the weak could hold... it would remain to be seen if this reality could hold.]

[space. space is good. Nemesis tries not to betray how much he likes that space between them again, scowling irritably]

It tells me that they're still as full of themselves as they were all those years ago. They never understand what is happening until it is almost too late for them to do anything.

[when it /should/ be too late, arguably, but - well. there's a knack for the 'last moment'. and for all that he finds it wretched...

Nemesis turns away, taking a step to the side]

Still, I will have no part in tearing this world further apart. If they are able to save it - then it is theirs.

[If Ramjet was truly dedicated to making Nemesis uncomfortable, he'd probably get right back into Nemesis' personal space... As it was, however, he merely cocks his helm, regarding the scowling mech.]

Perhaps that's why they're the first, considering even before them, sometimes, there have been failed ones. It always seems the ones who come after who truly make a... difference, whether that is failing spectacularly, all the little lights out going, one by one, or succeeding as is the supposed purpose.

[Ah, the flaws of even a deity of creation and light.]

Ah. [Such a simple little word and then Ramjet's... not actually in front of Nemesis, merely beside him, but suddenly enough it's obvious he teleported not walked, or even flew.]

And yet there's an abscence, however feeble, of the creator's touch on you, Prime. [The lack of a Glyph, of course.] How much choice will you have, in the end? Don't prolong it more than necessary! Would you rather have all choice taken away, or make a choice, as inevitable as it is, by both circumstance and base nature..?

[He's not... exactly, in the way, several paces in front of Nemesis, one hand flung out to point at first the mech, and then the space-time anomaly above them.]

Or would you finally give up, after all this time, finally show that the struggle isn't worth it?

[Ramjet's optics burn, flickering between pure mechanical in appearance and... less so, the intensity not so much sincere, a demand or even begging as simply... there.]

Perhaps.

[whichever way it is...

Nemesis doesn't even start at the teleport. he only turns to look at Ramjet, optics narrowed slightly. he intends to fight it, he intends to defy it, to his last cycle, he will not be willingly a slave, he will be /himself/-

and just like that, he blinks, once.

and then tilts his head, regarding the jet for a long moment of silence, where he's oddly...calm. pensive, maybe. and...

sad?]

Ramjet.

If you were given the chance - however temporarily - to rid yourself of what the Old Ones had done to you. To become what you were. To be- everything you can no longer be. Knowing, always, that it was temporary, that it is a matter of time, but for that time your existence is your own...

Would you give up?

[Once, such a question would have been incomprehensible; he'd given himself to Unicron, and while his spark had been twisted from that, most assuredly, it'd still been whole. His own.

Now? Well, now Nemesis and Ramjet are rather alike, even if Nemesis' spark is still pristine, no matter the things that have been done to it. Coming from, by and due to Unicron or not, it's still a spark. His template even one of the most shining examples of the cybertronian species.

Ramjet stares and suddenly, for a moment, not one part of him is shifting. That, however only makes it clear how wrong some of those parts are. The details just don't exactly fit.]

No.

Yes.

[Aura heaving about him, anything closeby simply disappearing in tiny, shrieking puffs of unreality, Ramjet slowly stalks forward with a few rather long, trailing tentacles melting out of his legs and wings.]

"Giving up" means nothing for me! My existence is my own! More than you can imagine, and even if it weren't I would have to not be and be twice more to come to the state you are intimating, old friend!

[A brief, surprisingly gentle tap, if no less sharp, against the front of Nemesis' chestplates as Ramjet simply stands there, looming.]

Even you are pure, though you have reason to feel you're not, I wager. [He smirks then, sharply.] Unicron is still one half of the Prime Spark, just as Primus is. You would ask me to consider to undo myself, Prime, for just a temporary, mockingly fleeting moment of normality?

I think... you don't understand what you're asking.

[Intense as those last few words are, as rebellious as the tightly-reined in aura is, Ramjet is still surprisingly, painfully, still.]

Enjoy what you have then, for as long as it lasts, if that is the choice you'd prefer, Prime. [His helm tilts, momentarily.]

And for what it's worth... time-space anomalies are strange... you'll undoubtedly return to where, and as, you should be in time.

[Take that as you will, Nemesis Prime, because that's all you'll get and for now Ramjet will actually leave you be. Literally, as he, in his familiar-impossible way suddenly simply is in altmode and tears away.]

Edited 2012-11-22 13:02 (UTC)

[Voice] attempted filter way from Ramjet. key word attempted.

[voice] - one of first but last, chronology what

[voice] tee hee 1/2

[voice] 2/2

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice>video] he can speech too

[video] stop making the unstable herald upset, Nemnem

[video] but it's fun watching you morph

[video] not as fun as getting to use that morph on YOU

action

action

Re: action

action

action

action

Re: action

action

no subject

no subject