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[When the feeds cuts in, it's shaky, mostly because Hound himself can't seem to keep still. He doesn't look too good, dents covering a lot of his frame--dents with flecks of blue paint here and there.
He manages to focus on the video, looking downright...sad...upset...at least he's holding onto himself for the moment right?]
Mirage he--...please..I need someone's he-elp...
[He doesn't remember when it happened, Hound just knows that it did and when he came back to himself, he had a broken heap of a certain invisible spy at his feet, said bot being out of view of the camera at the moment.
Mirage was still functioning at least. Just..barely.]
Ma-agnus? Sir? I ne-ed help.
ooc: Cloud gave me permission to godmod Mirage; she's been busy with finals and hasn't been able to get on the net much. | |
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[ He intended for this to be audio, but he's not in the best of ways at the moment. Tailgate's outside, but it's hard to say where with the way the feed keeps juddering about. What is clear is flashes of Tailgate, covered in energon. ]
I-I can't-- I didn't--
No no no no no no no I didn't mean to I didn't want to--
Please make it stop m-make it stop I hurt him I hurt him so bad and I can't stop it I c-can't--
[ He breaks off in a ragged sob, grabbing at his head with energon-soaked hands, curling in on himself. ]
Stop it stop it stop please I wanted to do it I did it and I want to do it again and it won't stop make it stop please please PLEASE!
[ There's another sob and Tailgate takes off, running in some direction. ]
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so fragging sorry please I don't want to do it again I don't--
[ The feed cuts out. ] | |
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[The feed snaps on just as Solus Prime folds down her massive hammer in a transformation of it's own, tucking it around to latch onto her back. It is probably for the best; the brief glimpse is enough to catch sight of a massive weapon dotted with a small spattering of energon-gore.
The source of the fluid is largely hidden away, wrapped heavily in a tarp and tucked carefully in the crook of the massive Prime's arm. Only the edge of a brightly colored limb poking past the length of the tarp gives evidence to the dead mech's identity before she speaks up - and even then, it is already fading to gray.]The one known as Hot Rod was overcome by influence of the darkness. He retained enough will to ask for assistance in ending the situation.[She nods down at the body briefly, resigned but respectful.]It was swift.
...If there is anyone who would wish to claim the remains, do speak up. Otherwise, he will be taken care of. | |
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This is it. It's over.
Wing. Make sure she gets it. I put it back. You make sure.
As for me.
I'll start the countdown. | |
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[This begins so simply, with Megatron, in a cave, standing in front of the beginnings of the interdimensional space bridge he and his allies had been working on. There is a foundation, already constructed. There is even a power source in the form of a lovely generator nearby.]
If you believe I would let something as meaningless as a glyph keep me from my goals, you are mistaken.
I will continue.
Nothing will keep me from going home.
[He's going to do this. If he has some small headache, that means nothing. This won't stop him.]
There are only a few pieces more that are needed.
[A list scrolls, detailing parts that aren't assembled yet.] If anyone has access to these, I will be coming for them.
We are not finished.
Not yet.
[This is the only hope that he can give. For others...and for himself.]
((OOC NOTE: Megs will be patrolling the Haven while he responds to any replies. If you wish to have him run into you (as he begins to go Glyphless mad) then just put [Action] in your title! He will likely start out okay and then suddenly attack.)) | |
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[The feed flickers on, but...something doesn't seem right. Yes, it's showing Optimus Prime (or one of them) and that's all fine and dandy, but... there's something about him that seems off. He has his back faced towards the camera, looking out towards Liege Maximo's temple. He was starting to become affected by this glyphless state. He'd been able to hold it off for as long as he could, but...it was maddening.
His fists clench and unclench as he looks down at the stasis cuffs Perceptor had provided for him. He didn't remember those coming off, and seemed to be glancing at his hands. The scientist did say it was temporary.
There wasn't enough time to get to Liege's temple.
So...]
Autobots. Report in.
[He had to end this. Before it started.]
(ooc: Technically he didn't say HIS autobots, so...anyone's game to jump in on this.)
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I... I don't know why but..
it feels wrong...
it feels like...
like the hamlin wave again...
please I don't...
I don't want to...
I
I'm afraid I will do terrible things
again
I don't want to.
Please, stop me.
I... if you must
Kill me
Do it
I'd rather die then go back. | |
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[The first few moments are merely filled with a strange, nearly cheery sort of music. It's actually the decay-rate of radioactive elements made audible for anyone present.
If you would want to be morbid, it's like a symphony of destruction, right there.]It seems like all the little lights are going out... one by one. [Ramjet laughs, the swaying sound of it briefly overlaying the "music" in the background and when he quiets, there's a second noise intruding on the still-continuing "song"; it sounds very similar to the whisper of the Calling, previously to the arrival of the Glyphless.
It's different however, but definitely there.]As it progresses towards its inevitable, destructive end, my offer is still open. You aren't all you can be... so let me provide the service of making you so! [It's an honest, amused offer, but by now it doesn't matter if anyone chooses to take it. You're all going down, those of you not marked, and it will be delightful, no matter the damage any one of you cause... because just changing, succumbing will be enough.]( Locked to Nemesis Prime/Convoy )( Locked to Barricade ) | |
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....help......
[Voice first, quiet and strained. After a moment, the feed switches to video, panning around the small room Ironfist's been using as a workshop. It's littered, now, with broken bits of metal and cloth, that may look suspicious like Liege Maximo's Acolytes. They look as though they've been...exploded somehow. ]
Please. I couldn't stop myself.
I'm bad.
My head.
It's...
[The feed cuts, abruptly.]
((OOC: People involved in the Ironfist takedown, let's do it! Also, anyone else is welcome to respond, too.))
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[Hound have been paying attention to what the others had been talking about, even if he'd kept mostly to himself. He didn't like to think about the idea of going crazy, of losing who he was but if that was going to happen...
He was at least determined to do something to help out those that would be left behind.]
This is Hound, reporting in.
I don't know what's going to happen at this point, I'm really not sure if anyone does completely considering some of the broadcasts I've been hearing and seeing--
[There's a weak smile there, his optics dim though they flicker every now and then, the scout fighting a wince here and there.]
--but whatever's going to happen, looks like it's going to happen.
This place is really amazing, really big too--and I've put together a map of everything from the border of the Badlands throughout almost all of Haven. Just impu-ulse I guess.
[He pauses for a moment, optics flickering some as he puts a hand to his head.]
There's also notes about the terrain and how easily accessible things are. Just doing what I do best I guess. I can transfer it to whoever would like it--whoever might want to fi-inish it, given I'm not sure if I'll be able to. | |
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Uh. I don't suppose anyone's seen Krok? I haven't. Which isn't good, he was still recovering last I saw. Otherwise, I was wondering if there was a medic available. I wanted to get something of mine looked at. ( Private to Four )( Private to Wing )( Private to Misfire ) | |
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[If you missed the lightshow earlier, and aren't close enough to see the sixty-foot jet falling to the ground... Well, Ramjet's here to help!
The video comes alive amid a fuzz of static and has a haze of purple around it, but quickly focuses on the important thing here. That being Vector's insensate form as it hurtles through the air - Ramjet either keeping pace, or somehow keeping his Link device close - and then slams to the ground with a rolling, thunderous crash.
When the feed focuses again, Vector's lying in the middle of a crater. There's at least one large, jagged stab wound, and Vector Prime looks slightly... ragged. As if parts have simply disintegrated. Still focused on the Firstforged, Ramjet lands and a hand, flickering between smooth, clawed fingers and properly jointed such, is laid on his helm.]Got too big for your wings, old mech? [The voice, despite the sarcasm, is curiously still for a moment before Ramjet chuckles and instead pats the ground beside the Firstforged as the camera moves to focus on the herald.
Optics, not quite mechanical and with a hint of what might be proper irises for a moment and bleeding red light, angle in a grin as Ramjet's mask and chin slowly melt apart.]I hope you didn't need that. It'd be a pity if so! [And then the feed dies in a flare of purple amid Ramjet's laughter. Someone may want to go check so our dear Firstforged isn't extinguished, yes?](ooc: Ramjet may or may not respond, but you're free to react and/or go help Vector, either here or in the log where they fought.) | |
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[Ironfist taps on the Link device for a few kliks. He thinks he's locked it to Ultra Magnus, but he can't quite see straight so...he fails.]
U-Ultra Magnus. You said to, uh, to contact you if we...if something wasn't right.
[Something's not right, it's clear just from looking at him.]
[Another tapping blindly at the link's controls.]
First Aid? I think....[He looks more than a little contrite] I think maybe it didn't work. | |
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[ It was no surprise to him that his time on this new Cybertron was going better than his last three years on an ancient one. Parts for the portal were already being gathered and assembled, nobody was directly threatening to kill him, and he'd passed his schematics out to multiple individuals who had a shot at making it work. With nothing more to do on the project, himself, he'd decided to pursue a little...entertainment, and perhaps secure a bit of additional assistance on the way.] [ Besides, this arena was actually pretty nice.] It's been almost a decacycle, and though little has changed in how these 'Firstforged' treat us, we've already managed to accomplish enough. Of course, if we're to become monsters as I've heard claims we will be, then those of you who are marked should get a bit of practice in beforehand, hm? [ Without a further word, a bright purple glow illuminates the screen for a moment as Megatron unsheathes his energon mace from his hand-socket and gives it a whirl.] I have a meeting with one or two already, so this message is for the rest... Do you think you have what it takes, to go tread to tread with a Megatron? [ He'll be waiting.] ( Locked to Overlord. )( Locked to Barricade and Ambulon. ) | |
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