Commander's Log

designation: shockwave | function: commander of all decepticons | [rp account for aldebaran]

[logic--dictates]

starter call

ooc: i still need to reply to heysel but i want to start something new so lms if you want shockwave to try to recruit you as a marvel comics decepticon

[logic--dictates]

starter call

ooc: i still need to reply to heysel but i want to start something new so lms if you want shockwave to try to recruit you as a marvel comics decepticon

[800movingobjects-blog]

logic–dictates‌:

Shockwave puts his hand and gun-hand to his hips, sternly regarding the human. “How curious!” he exclaimed. “An unparalleled command of science is among the many skills I have mastered, but it has never been my primary function. I was Military Operations Commander of the Decepticons until my recent ascension to leadership. I do not know whom your sources are, but I would suggest reassessing their usefulness.”

Shockwave paused, sensing an opportunity. “What intelligence I have gathered so far is no concern of yours. But perhaps we both may benefit by pooling our information and resources. I am seeking allies for a mission – to conquer the Aldebaran Ark, enact vengeance upon our captors, and return to Earth with their technology as spoils of war! Though it pains me to rely on humans, desperate times call for desperate measures indeed. Will you join my Aldebaran Decepticon Legion?”

Prowl was doing his best not to just stare openly, but this was just too weird. He wished, a little bit, that things would stop being weird for once, just for a little while. Instead of voicing this, however, he just nodded a little as Shockwave spoke.

“Right. Sure. Great. Leader of the Decepticons.” Just what he wanted to hear. More absolute nonsense. Maybe Prowl had died and this was actually hell. That would explain a lot, actually. He weighed the options of joining forces with Shockwave in his mind. On the one hand–he is a Decepticon. That didn’t sit especially well with Prowl, even if this Shockwave was pretty obviously not a real threat to anyone, unless he stepped on their feet or something. On the other hand, Prowl was shorter on friends than usual, and being disembodied and unarmed in this “ark” might be a little less dangerous if he had someone on his side. Even a monocular purple idiot. 

Prowl nodded. “Yeah, whatever. What are your plans to exact revenge and return to Earth? Are there any other members of the Aldebaran Decepticon Legion? Do you have a ship?” He suspected the answers would be no, but Prowl didn’t have many other prospects.

[logic--dictates]

Shockwave hesitated to answer for a brief moment, unaccustomed to having so little to show for himself. “Not... as such. I am formulating plans, but my data is limited. My first priority is to determine structural bottlenecks and other weak points of the Ark’s structures, especially any means of accessing our captors’ control mechanisms and energy supply. Due to limited manpower and resources, the most logical method of achieving this in an efficient timespan is to subjugate the indigenous avian lifeforms.” Shockwave made a gesture with an open hand, as though to suggest this was a given. “Do you have access to functional weaponry, by any chance?” 

[codexprotocol]

are ghosts real

Good evening, Moonh!

Yes.

Please do ask if you have any further inquiries.

[logic--dictates]

Preposterous.

[logic--dictates]

ruthlessdaughter

logic–dictates‌:

Remove herself from his sight? Oh no. There is plenty of train ride yet, and every second must be savoured to its fullest. Heysel jumps from her seat and puts her hands on her hips. Sour old coot. His attempts to ignore her do not deter her in the slightest, and his turn away is almost comical, as his bulk as he sits in his seat prevents him from making a full rotation to the left or right.

Craning her neck to look at his turned head, she speaks in as authoritative of a voice as she can muster, “You see, sir Shockwave, we are learning about each other already! You are the commander of ‘Decepticon’, and clearly, friendship is out of the question. I’ll go next.”

She brushes off the front of her robes and bows.

“I am daughter to Ghiras, an Abysswalker,” she says matter-of-factly, “I am a Xanthous scholar of the Dragon School, and I developed the Farron sorceries for use in the Undead Legion.”

All this obviously meant nothing to Shockwave, but frankly, Decepticon Commander meant absolutely nothing to her either.

“If you are so insistent on logic, then is it not logical to know your allies well? If you know their strengths and weaknesses, you may have more effective synergy in working with them. Should it come to betrayal, you’ll have the upper hand, knowing where and how to strike decisively.”

Heysel is banking heavily on the hope that this “alliance” will not, in fact, come to betrayal.

Despite himself, Shockwave looks over at Heysel quizzically. He is surprised that she seems to have taken his rejection of “friendship” in stride. Perhaps she is more capable of reason than she had seemed.

“It... is good that you have reconsidered this foolish notion of ‘friendship,’” he says hesitantly. “If you will keep to the realm of the practical, perhaps there can be some utility in our association after all.”

He turns his body to face her again.

“I must admit that an exchange of information could prove beneficial. I must also admit that none of your terms are familiar to me, despite the many terabytes of galactic information contained in my data banks. What planet are you from? What sort of creature are you?”

[ruthlessdaughter-blog]

logic–dictates‌:

Shockwave does a sort of… snort-laugh? There is a faintly staticky quality to it, like someone bumping up against a microphone. “I have never put much stock in trust,” he says. “To trust a stranger based on no evidence at all is highly illogical. I do not expect blind faith from my soldiers, nor do I trust them to act in any interest but their own. We work together only because we share common goals: chiefly, to gain power for ourselves.” 

And also by punishing insubordination with death, but that part seemed unnecessary to include in the pitch.

“As you say yourself, this Ark is a cage. We have no power, no autonomy, save those scraps we are given by our captors. I believe that working together, under my experienced leadership, we can take back our power and more. As an assassin, your skills could prove quite useful in this endeavor. All I ask is your cooperation… when the time comes.”

Heysel is curt and direct, making no gestures or shifts in tone.

“You misunderstand, sir Shockwave. While I recognize the value of impromptu cooperation for the sake of common interests, I do not hunt for the sake of just anyone.”

She squares her shoulders and straightens her back. “I am not one of your tin soldiers that you move about as pieces on a board. If I seek out a mark, I do it of my own accord. If I do not know you, I do not kill for you.”

This is a dangerous game, to be sure, but Heysel is agile and resourceful. In the worst case scenario, she can avoid Shockwave until the train reaches its stop, and lose him in the Sea of Tranquility. If she dies, she will have a new resident to avoid.

“This being said, sir Shockwave,” she continued, unwavering, “I am still open to cooperation, provided we first establish a rapport, and I am at least reasonably confident that you will not kill me immediately after your aims are accomplished. This does not seem like an unreasonable request.”

She pauses, and nods at him. “I will get to know you, and you will get to know me. In time, I may entertain the idea of hunting at your behest. Until then, we are going to be friends.”

The last word of the sentence positively drips with irony, and Heysel cannot help but crack a smile to herself. How far is this construct willing to go to gain allies? Has he ever had friends? She will find out shortly.

[logic--dictates]

Shockwave looks at Heysel like she just started speaking in tongues.

“’Friends’...” he repeats. Long-unused circuits hum to life as he accesses the part of his data banks containing knowledge of “friendship.” “That is... an absurd demand!”

The hand he had extended in entreaty is retracted quickly, as though recoiling from a diseased animal. “Friendship is an emotional concept -- the very antithesis of logic! As Decepticon commander, it is beneath my dignity to debase myself in such a way! And I am certainly not so desperate as to entertain friendship with a lowly fleshling, of all creatures! Clearly this conversation was a waste of my time. Remove yourself from my sight immediately.” 

Shockwave turns away from Heysel and folds his arms, as though she is now beneath his notice.

[logic--dictates]

ruthlessdaughter

logic–dictates‌:

Heysel slowly stands up and moves from the safety of the seat. Its effectiveness as cover is questionable at best anyway, and should she die here, she reasoned that she would simply wake up as if nothing had happened. There is nothing to fear save for the pain of having a hole blasted through your chest.

She locks eyes to eye with him and says, “Your apology is accepted. I can certainly understand your vigilance, though you make a poor first impression.”

Walking with a self-sure stride, she takes the seat opposite his, her posture rigid and formal. “I’ll have you know, sir Shockwave, that I do not trust you as far as I can throw you. Judging by your size, I cannot even throw you any significant distance. Regardless, let us speak of this alliance you wish to establish.”

Perhaps his desire to start over is sincere. Perhaps not.

Shockwave does a sort of... snort-laugh? There is a faintly staticky quality to it, like someone bumping up against a microphone. “I have never put much stock in trust,” he says. “To trust a stranger based on no evidence at all is highly illogical. I do not expect blind faith from my soldiers, nor do I trust them to act in any interest but their own. We work together only because we share common goals: chiefly, to gain power for ourselves.” 

And also by punishing insubordination with death, but that part seemed unnecessary to include in the pitch.

“As you say yourself, this Ark is a cage. We have no power, no autonomy, save those scraps we are given by our captors. I believe that working together, under my experienced leadership, we can take back our power and more. As an assassin, your skills could prove quite useful in this endeavor. All I ask is your cooperation... when the time comes.”

[ruthlessdaughter-blog]

logic–dictates‌:

“Heysel… I take it you are a fellow captive?” Shockwave lowers his gun hand, trying to take on a less threatening posture - difficult when you’re all harsh angles and one blank eye, but he tries. “Where are you from? What sort of skills do you possess?”

Heysel takes a second, remaining tense, ready to move if necessary.

“A captive?” she says warily, “I suppose so, though it’s a very gilded cage indeed.”

Her peripheral vision in her headpiece is not stellar, and she slowly peers around the seat, trying to expose as little of herself as possible. This construct, this Shockwave had lowered his weapon, but there is little guarantee that he will not aim at her again once she leaves her cover.

“I am not local to this Ark, sir Shockwave. I gather that neither are you.”

Honourifics are not essential for aggressors, but she always did like to show a measure of politeness to her marks, both before and after their deaths at her hands.

“I hail from Lothric, home of the undead. You need know nothing about me save that I am an assassin in service to the goddess Rosaria.”

She pauses, and speaks with a lighter tone. “It’s very rude to kill someone on your first meeting with them, wouldn’t you say? At the very least, we’ve gone through introductions in record time.”

[logic--dictates]

Shockwave pauses. It may be the logical thing to do to take a lighter touch while attempting to gather allies. “I.... apologize,” he says, the word tasting unfamiliar and unpleasant on his non-existent tongue. “I am from a world at war, and in unfamiliar territory I am perhaps too aggressively on my guard. I did not seek to threaten you with death, only show that I was capable of defending myself.”

He gestures at a seat near himself with his actual hand. “Please, sit. My only goal is to acquire freedom, and in that interest I seek to make allies, not enemies.”

[logic--dictates]

ruthlessdaughter

logic–dictates‌:

Heysel yelps and rolls backward, instinctually throwing her own hand forward, immediately remembering that no magic would be successfully conjured. She ducks instead behind a seat, her headpiece very clearly protruding above it, and catches her breath for a few precious seconds. The construct is in motion! It spoke to her! She throws her gaze around the interior, looking for a weapon, but it’s more or less pristine. Why didn’t she go scavenging in the Mare Crisium when she had a chance?

Unmoving, she calls out in a steady, firm tone, “My name is Heysel. I do not wish you harm.” Could she actually harm the construct? Doubtful, but it doesn’t need to know that.

“Heysel... I take it you are a fellow captive?” Shockwave lowers his gun hand, trying to take on a less threatening posture - difficult when you’re all harsh angles and one blank eye, but he tries. “Where are you from? What sort of skills do you possess?”

[logic--dictates]

800movingobjects

logic–dictates‌:

Prowl stared, mouth slightly agape. Either Shockwave had lost his damn mind–not impossible, all things considered–or this was not the same Shockwave Prowl had come to know and hate. He shook his head, feeling a headache threatening him as he tried to process what Shockwave had said. “Uh, right. Yes. No. I’m not responsible for this.” Prowl rubbed his forehead, thinking, before fixing Shockwave with one of the coldest looks in his arsenal.

“Nevermind how I know you. You’re a… scientist. Right?” He faltered somewhat. Maybe this Shockwave wasn’t as intellectually inclined as the one he knew. Given all the shouting, it was a possibility. “Do you know anything about this place? What it is? Where it is?”

Shockwave puts his hand and gun-hand to his hips, sternly regarding the human. “How curious!” he exclaimed. “An unparalleled command of science is among the many skills I have mastered, but it has never been my primary function. I was Military Operations Commander of the Decepticons until my recent ascension to leadership. I do not know whom your sources are, but I would suggest reassessing their usefulness.”

Shockwave paused, sensing an opportunity. “What intelligence I have gathered so far is no concern of yours. But perhaps we both may benefit by pooling our information and resources. I am seeking allies for a mission -- to conquer the Aldebaran Ark, enact vengeance upon our captors, and return to Earth with their technology as spoils of war! Though it pains me to rely on humans, desperate times call for desperate measures indeed. Will you join my Aldebaran Decepticon Legion?”

[logic--dictates]

You saw nothing.

[logic--dictates]

ruthlessdaughter

The train begins to smoothly accelerate up to speed again. Remarkable. Swinging her legs back and forth beneath her, she hums as she watches the station pull out of view, revealing a breathtaking vista of stars, more than she had ever seen before. On the other side, the blinding red sun burns, darkened by the train’s protective glass.

Locomotive. Unconventional propulsion. Train. She runs the words through her head so as not to forget them. Of course, the Codex Protocol would provide her with the relevant information every time she should ask, but she doesn’t want to contact it every time she has an inquiry. The kindly voice in the phone needs its rest like everyone else.

The steel interior is comfortable, lit partially by the sun and partially by white lighting overhead. The seats are plush and the floorspace provides ample room for Heysel to stretch. She swivels her headpiece and peers to the end of the car, looking for who was driving the hulk to its destination, but there is no sign of life. A pity. She has nobody to thank for ferrying her to the Sea of Tranquility.

Her eyes trace back over the seats one by one. For the most part, they remain empty, though on occasion, some of the Ark’s many denizens would walk onboard to fill them. Most seemed to keep to their respective spheres, except on business or to visit a friend. Heysel is here to explore what Aldebaran has to offer. She is almost finished counting the seats when she spots a large purple hulk sitting to her left side, several rows over.

Is this the one directing the train? She hops to her feet and adjusts her balance for the train’s gentle rocking. Walking towards the construct at a brisk stride, she gives it a once-over. A handsomely shaped head, mismatched hands, an expansive bulk. It is unmoving—is it not active? She is wary of it, looking for an incoming attack, but for now her curiosity is overriding her sense of self-preservation.

Heysel is now just a few metres away, her footfalls soft and her head craning to get a better view of the construct’s frame. While she does not entirely expect a response, she is unsettled. If it’s larger than her, it has great potential to kill her. Her voice comes out restrained.

“Hello?” she calls hesitantly.

Shockwave is jolted from his plotting by a small, high voice. He swivels his head toward the source, fixing it with his harrowing one-eyed gaze.

“What manner of creature is this?” he exclaims. Reflexively, he points his useless laser gun hand at Heysel. “Identify yourself before Shockwave, whelp!”

[logic--dictates]

@ruthlessdaughter​

Once he learns that they are not on a planet but a series of interconnected, self-contained space stations, Shockwave does not take long to decide to leave this one. He tells himself that it is only logical to get a sense of one’s surroundings and available resources before planning a military operation. Which is true - but there is another aspect to his haste, though he would never admit it to anyone, especially himself. The great mass of dark water reminded him of the suffocating darkness he was all too familiar with. The weight of the tar pit in the Savage Land; the sucking slime of the Oregon swamp that had seeped into his every joint and crack, rendering him immobile but conscious for endless months...

Leaving the Sea of Nectar is not difficult.

The inter-station high-speed rail system is a marvel in itself, significantly more impressive than the bare-bones living quarters. Nothing to Cybertronian space bridge technology, of course, but potentially exploitable. He wonders what sort of fuel the system runs on, and if there is a store of it somewhere - the energy requirements for such a thing cannot be insubstantial.

Shockwave is sitting on the train, feet together, hand and gun on his lap, as it slows to a halt. He makes no move to get off - he wants to see how far the train will go before it reaches its terminus, or if it will loop around. Aside from its fuel consumption, this transportation mechanism is a critical chokepoint for the “Ark.” If he can control the trains, it would be a simple matter to control this world, and everyone in it!

[800movingobjects-blog]

@logic–dictates

When Prowl opened his comm channel, Perceptor wasn’t actually the only one available. Perceptor was the only recognized contact, yes, but there were a few other strange signatures that Prowl assumed must be alien mechanicals in the area on a similar frequency. Except one.

There was a single signature that was unmistakably Cybertronian, but not anything he had ever seen before. Sure, there were plenty of Cybertronians that he’d never met, and more than that that he just couldn’t remember, but this was just different enough that it begged the question: just who else was here?

Finding himself without any minions, spies, or little birds to find out for him, Prowl decided to do some leg work. Literally. Tracking the signature wasn’t terribly hard, though he did have to take one of the bizarre space-trains to an area quite different from where his own quarters were. A beach, and quite a beautiful one by Earth standards, he guessed. And what he saw there could not have been more surprising: Shockwave?! But small, human-sized, and in a frame that Prowl was pretty sure Shockwave hadn’t inhabited in millennia. Yet there he was, and indeed he was the origin of that bizarre comm signal. Prowl stared, mouth slightly agape in confusion and… annoyance. Why was this guy still mechanical when he was stuck in a fleshy holomatter avatar? “Shockwave?!”

[logic--dictates]

Shockwave looks up from his analysis of the beach. He had been heartened when his sensors detected a silica-based environment, but disappointment followed as he found a pointless expanse of Earth “sand.” Was this another wretched organic world, then? He would have to see what he could do about that once he was in charge.

“Another oversized human wretch! I’m amazed your frail meat body doesn’t collapse under its own weight.” Shockwave’s voice carried the sneer that his face could not express. “How do you know my name, fleshling? Your tone indicates surprise - suggesting that you are not among my captors. If you value your brief life, you will answer to Shockwave!”

[logic--dictates]

@crossfactional

Having found nothing either dangerous or useful in his exploration of the facility, and finding no impediment to his exit, Shockwave was making his way out. Plans already coursed through his cerebro-circuits. “I will escape this place -- or conquer it! Perhaps some resource here will be of use in the war against the Autobots!”

Stepping out of the elevator, Shockwave was taken aback by the sight before him.

“A giant human?!”

[logic--dictates]

[logic--dictates]

[starter call]

[please like for a starter from shockwave! not until tomorrow tho it’s bedtime]