Megatron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
playfultyrant) wrote2021-09-21 06:11 am
playfultyrant) wrote2021-09-21 06:11 am
Entry tags:
IC VoiceMail
Leave a Message for the new Lord.
Leave a Message for the new Lord.
Hey, Megatron...
You said you had builders that gave you a purpose, right? What did you do after they were gone?
You said you had builders that gave you a purpose, right? What did you do after they were gone?
I wanted to prove I was better then how they originally made me.
I killed the worst of the two. With my own hands, then told him I would be a Sun that everything would center around.
Of course I was still young and full of my own ego... but finding my own purpose, I stimply tweaked what my creators planned and expanded.
I will not lie though, even if they were terrible I felt lost without their guidance. I had to be my own master.
I killed the worst of the two. With my own hands, then told him I would be a Sun that everything would center around.
Of course I was still young and full of my own ego... but finding my own purpose, I stimply tweaked what my creators planned and expanded.
I will not lie though, even if they were terrible I felt lost without their guidance. I had to be my own master.
[ Killed them? Ouch. He guesses he can get the urge, though. He'd have liked to punch Wily in the face before the old man bit it. ]
Alright. Thanks. Just figuring some things out.
Alright. Thanks. Just figuring some things out.
It can be frightful to be untethered. You came to the right person, I understand your pain, Quick.
Perhaps alot more then either of know conciously.
If you need me again... I will be here.
Perhaps alot more then either of know conciously.
If you need me again... I will be here.
Are you around for another training session?
[ His voice is clipped. Devoid of anger, or grief, or really much of anything.
He's back. He doesn't like it. ]
[ His voice is clipped. Devoid of anger, or grief, or really much of anything.
He's back. He doesn't like it. ]
Of course little Quick. I had been waiting.
[ There it is. So soon, a chance. But he will not strike right away. Comfort and training come first. Then the trap will be sprung.]
[ There it is. So soon, a chance. But he will not strike right away. Comfort and training come first. Then the trap will be sprung.]
Okay. I'll be waiting.
[ He doesn't have his spinnerang. He doesn't know if he cares.
Even now, numb and hollow, he doesn't know if he could stomach going back there, standing in the ashes of his hopes. And that was assuming it had even survived the flames.
Hand to hand would have to do. ]
[ He doesn't have his spinnerang. He doesn't know if he cares.
Even now, numb and hollow, he doesn't know if he could stomach going back there, standing in the ashes of his hopes. And that was assuming it had even survived the flames.
Hand to hand would have to do. ]
[ Megatron is inside yet another empty room of his floor. Nice for training, where he and Quick made much progress. Where Quick managed the environment to kick him in the head good enough to stun.
Megatron praised him for his advancements. Truly a work of art that machine.
And when he senses the little AI is there he opens the door. Allowing his endearing little collectors edition inside.
Watching his movements and seeing that dead tone.
Death here is different for everyone, and clearly this one is suffering just under the right conditions.]
I have made a few new courses for you to run, but I will not let you do this right away. I only have to ask...
Are you okay
Megatron praised him for his advancements. Truly a work of art that machine.
And when he senses the little AI is there he opens the door. Allowing his endearing little collectors edition inside.
Watching his movements and seeing that dead tone.
Death here is different for everyone, and clearly this one is suffering just under the right conditions.]
I have made a few new courses for you to run, but I will not let you do this right away. I only have to ask...
Are you okay
Yeah. I'm fine. [ His voice roughens just a little as he ducks inside, and he grits his teeth. Holding back the Too Much that reared up inside him.
There's still a scar on his arm, from where he'd slammed into Heatman, holding it out ahead of him. Well, more of an injury. A melted burn, thankfully so much less than before. Barely anything of note, in comparison. Right? ]
Let's just get to training.
There's still a scar on his arm, from where he'd slammed into Heatman, holding it out ahead of him. Well, more of an injury. A melted burn, thankfully so much less than before. Barely anything of note, in comparison. Right? ]
Let's just get to training.
Shh. We shall, but training is worthless if you are not putting your heart into it, child. [ He leans down and puts a hand to his back.]
I never got moments to be fine for trianing. Pushed ahead till I could no longer function for the day. That is no way to live.
Look at me, Quick. Let me help just a bit before you force my hand.
I never got moments to be fine for trianing. Pushed ahead till I could no longer function for the day. That is no way to live.
Look at me, Quick. Let me help just a bit before you force my hand.
[ He shoves himself away from it. Too much, breaking through to the surface, the smallest of hot spots on a sea of volcanic ash.
...Actually, maybe don't think of ash. ]
Shut up. If I say I'm fine, I'm FINE.
I'm a weapon, right? So point this weapon at something and let's- Let's just stab something.
[ He doesn't know what he's doing. Even if the howling emptiness, hot and cold both, wasn't clawing at the insides of him where hope used to be- How could he know? A robot master had never had their creator die before. One would've expected a robotic leash to involve a lot more access codes and protocol updates. And maybe they did, usually, when the changing of hands was more formal than a supposed corpse.
He just wants to be a weapon, until he doesn't feel numb any more. Or until he doesn't care either way. He would never want anything else. ]
...Actually, maybe don't think of ash. ]
Shut up. If I say I'm fine, I'm FINE.
I'm a weapon, right? So point this weapon at something and let's- Let's just stab something.
[ He doesn't know what he's doing. Even if the howling emptiness, hot and cold both, wasn't clawing at the insides of him where hope used to be- How could he know? A robot master had never had their creator die before. One would've expected a robotic leash to involve a lot more access codes and protocol updates. And maybe they did, usually, when the changing of hands was more formal than a supposed corpse.
He just wants to be a weapon, until he doesn't feel numb any more. Or until he doesn't care either way. He would never want anything else. ]
Edited 2024-01-13 13:35 (UTC)
[ There it is. What he needs. Permission all on its own, spoken accidentally but he will take it. His hand starts to static behind him. ]
You want to be a weapon, truly, surely. For purpose at my hands and no one else.
Do you want power to escape your past? Do you want to run eternal and flee from your floundered existence?!
I'll raise you into what you want to be, you will be above your programming.
[ His hand moves to close around him. ]
Now fight it first. Fight and prove you're worthy of a new purpose.
You want to be a weapon, truly, surely. For purpose at my hands and no one else.
Do you want power to escape your past? Do you want to run eternal and flee from your floundered existence?!
I'll raise you into what you want to be, you will be above your programming.
[ His hand moves to close around him. ]
Now fight it first. Fight and prove you're worthy of a new purpose.
What are you-
[ It slams into him, all at once. Maybe it would've gone unnoticed, this new chain. A snake in the grass until it bit him on the leg. But then Megatron tells him that his purpose will be at his hands and suddenly Quick is gasping around a new collar, choking on something he hadn't meant to give.
He would have fought anyway. He would have, he would have fought like his life depended on it, and it DID. But then it's an order and the order hollows it out and rage and tears prick at the corners of his optics. His defiance too, taken from him.
He fights. He's without his spinnerang, but he fights. Kicks, punches, biting as the tears flow. ]
Screw you, screw you, SCREW YOU! [ He trusted him, he TRUSTED him. ]
[ It slams into him, all at once. Maybe it would've gone unnoticed, this new chain. A snake in the grass until it bit him on the leg. But then Megatron tells him that his purpose will be at his hands and suddenly Quick is gasping around a new collar, choking on something he hadn't meant to give.
He would have fought anyway. He would have, he would have fought like his life depended on it, and it DID. But then it's an order and the order hollows it out and rage and tears prick at the corners of his optics. His defiance too, taken from him.
He fights. He's without his spinnerang, but he fights. Kicks, punches, biting as the tears flow. ]
Screw you, screw you, SCREW YOU! [ He trusted him, he TRUSTED him. ]
Keep fighting. Prove your life worth living.
[ The hand gently closed around him, not lifting, not anything but the theme brushed up to his face. Then
ZAPP]
I adore you, Quick. A wonderful creation of marveled human ingenuity. But you are not without flaws.
I will fix that for you. I will make you better. Stronger.
[ The thumb moves to hold him in place now as he finally stands. Squeezing. ]
[ The hand gently closed around him, not lifting, not anything but the theme brushed up to his face. Then
ZAPP]
I adore you, Quick. A wonderful creation of marveled human ingenuity. But you are not without flaws.
I will fix that for you. I will make you better. Stronger.
[ The thumb moves to hold him in place now as he finally stands. Squeezing. ]
[ And Quickman screams.
Crackling, warping energy, inside of him, inside of him- His internals scream warnings across his vision, disintegrating into static as soon as they form; his body is crying out for help, Quick's crying out for help, and there's no one to hear.
His frame feels too big for itself. It's his brother's Atomic Fire all over again. It is worse than his Atomic Fire. At least when Heatman melted him down to slag it was all of him, not the horrifying, sickening feeling of sloshing inside of him; he chokes and gags, and he thinks it might be on his own internals. There's the sound of metal warping, all around him and in his audials, so loud he thinks even he might go deaf.
He's not sure how much time has passed. Too little and too much. It's time being relative, all over again. Did he black out, briefly? His systems are throwing up errors again and half of them don't make sense. There are pieces missing except they are fine except they are not and- It hurts. It hurts.
The screams choke off into wheezing, spatters of silver coughed through unsteady vents. The pain doesn't go away. It is less, but it aches solidly inside of him, instead of the woozily sloshing feeling from earlier. It's hard to think through it. He tries so hard to blink away the 'ERROR: INCOMPATIBLE PARTS' that pops up over his vision, and tastes metallic on his teeth.
For a moment, something in him wants to break. Wants to bend to this. Nearly, he drops his head. But then black and red flashes over his vision, a new spike of pain through his processor, and his head jerks up into a whimper. It's all he has left to give. ]
Crackling, warping energy, inside of him, inside of him- His internals scream warnings across his vision, disintegrating into static as soon as they form; his body is crying out for help, Quick's crying out for help, and there's no one to hear.
His frame feels too big for itself. It's his brother's Atomic Fire all over again. It is worse than his Atomic Fire. At least when Heatman melted him down to slag it was all of him, not the horrifying, sickening feeling of sloshing inside of him; he chokes and gags, and he thinks it might be on his own internals. There's the sound of metal warping, all around him and in his audials, so loud he thinks even he might go deaf.
He's not sure how much time has passed. Too little and too much. It's time being relative, all over again. Did he black out, briefly? His systems are throwing up errors again and half of them don't make sense. There are pieces missing except they are fine except they are not and- It hurts. It hurts.
The screams choke off into wheezing, spatters of silver coughed through unsteady vents. The pain doesn't go away. It is less, but it aches solidly inside of him, instead of the woozily sloshing feeling from earlier. It's hard to think through it. He tries so hard to blink away the 'ERROR: INCOMPATIBLE PARTS' that pops up over his vision, and tastes metallic on his teeth.
For a moment, something in him wants to break. Wants to bend to this. Nearly, he drops his head. But then black and red flashes over his vision, a new spike of pain through his processor, and his head jerks up into a whimper. It's all he has left to give. ]
There, its over. It's fine now, you're perfect once more.
[ He loosens his grip and rolls his hand flat palm up so Quick can lay there. In the middle of a static ocean.
Nova Storm was a wonderful test subject, Wheeljack was a trial of making sure he could keep and control what is his.
Quick is now a personal project and extension of a goal so close in reach.
Could it be eventually, the cosmoses all bent to his whim.
The multiple realities his alone.
He's proven he can warp three different indivuals of different realms as is.
As he lifts his other hand he brushes a finger along Quick's face. ]
Good boy.
[ He loosens his grip and rolls his hand flat palm up so Quick can lay there. In the middle of a static ocean.
Nova Storm was a wonderful test subject, Wheeljack was a trial of making sure he could keep and control what is his.
Quick is now a personal project and extension of a goal so close in reach.
Could it be eventually, the cosmoses all bent to his whim.
The multiple realities his alone.
He's proven he can warp three different indivuals of different realms as is.
As he lifts his other hand he brushes a finger along Quick's face. ]
Good boy.
[ Everything moves sideways for a moment, and Quick feels like he's going to hurl. He shudders at the touch, the words, revulsion in his chest, and that seems to make it all the more likely- But he's too woozy still to even bare his teeth at his new master.
Leashed. But not tamed. But for now, he hurt too much to express it.
Probably a good thing.
He moves, slowly. Every time he does his vision spins, dizziness threatening to drown him. But Quickman is stubborn, so stubborn. He flips himself over to his hands and knees at first, though the movement makes him gasp with new errors. Then, slowly, nearly stumbling into falling over again... He stands. Everything's too long. His legs quake like a baby deer's, unsure of their new lengths. He's... Taller? The surface of that betraying hand is too far away compared to what it should be.
It makes him nearly sick.
He can taste the ash of his would-be home on his teeth again, mixing with the copper and aluminum. ]
Leashed. But not tamed. But for now, he hurt too much to express it.
Probably a good thing.
He moves, slowly. Every time he does his vision spins, dizziness threatening to drown him. But Quickman is stubborn, so stubborn. He flips himself over to his hands and knees at first, though the movement makes him gasp with new errors. Then, slowly, nearly stumbling into falling over again... He stands. Everything's too long. His legs quake like a baby deer's, unsure of their new lengths. He's... Taller? The surface of that betraying hand is too far away compared to what it should be.
It makes him nearly sick.
He can taste the ash of his would-be home on his teeth again, mixing with the copper and aluminum. ]
I did not remove what makes you you. I did nothing you didn't ask for. You wanted to be a weapon, you wanted a purpose. Here it is.
You are stronger, faster, bigger.
I did not change the core, I did not remove everything. I wanted you to be manageable, to exist to the left of yourself.
Do you understand now, Quick. You asked. I delivered. And you will help me in exchange.
You are stronger, faster, bigger.
I did not change the core, I did not remove everything. I wanted you to be manageable, to exist to the left of yourself.
Do you understand now, Quick. You asked. I delivered. And you will help me in exchange.
[ He wants to SCREAM at him. Managable? MANAGABLE? This time, this time he bares his teeth (it's all he can allow himself), but says nothing. Even he knew not to bite Wily's hand when it had been around his throat.
He didn't ask for this. He asked for a friend to help him forget.
This monster was not his friend.
But the leash tugs tight and no matter how much he wants to posture and be the threat he is, Quick knows what he can and cannot do. He has a new master. He has a new collar. And now Megatron could do whatever the hell he wanted. ]
Fine. [ There was no other answer he could give. ]
He didn't ask for this. He asked for a friend to help him forget.
This monster was not his friend.
But the leash tugs tight and no matter how much he wants to posture and be the threat he is, Quick knows what he can and cannot do. He has a new master. He has a new collar. And now Megatron could do whatever the hell he wanted. ]
Fine. [ There was no other answer he could give. ]
Do not give me such pitable looks, Quickman. I am not some malicious god, I am benevolent. You will understand with time.
And you will not be alone for long.
And you will not be alone for long.
I am uncertian if it is accurate.
[[Attached is a hand-drawn line art image of Antlers.
It's... more stick figure than not and very very stiff. But she's trying! To! Learn! Art!
She has a lot to learn, though.]
The first seventeen were unacceptable. This one is...?
[[Attached is a hand-drawn line art image of Antlers.
It's... more stick figure than not and very very stiff. But she's trying! To! Learn! Art!
She has a lot to learn, though.]
The first seventeen were unacceptable. This one is...?
Edited 2024-01-17 12:41 (UTC)
Oh sweet, Sarah. Look at that. You are trying a new project out I see.
I can give little critiques. My horned crown has a third horn in its middle now, it's a little hard to see. And look at this, you got the detailings of my wings nicely, even the little bent joints.
[ He's touched really he is. What a kind gesture ]
I can give little critiques. My horned crown has a third horn in its middle now, it's a little hard to see. And look at this, you got the detailings of my wings nicely, even the little bent joints.
[ He's touched really he is. What a kind gesture ]
I don't mind critique; how else am I to learn? However, you are correct in that it is hard to see. More so from my typical hight.
[Maybe she shouldn't have wished for drunkenness for her 5th birthday but for flight instead.]
I will do better next time.
[He can't see it, but she stands a little taller at the praise; she didn't take 50 tries to get this new thing right, and she'll remember it.]
[Maybe she shouldn't have wished for drunkenness for her 5th birthday but for flight instead.]
I will do better next time.
[He can't see it, but she stands a little taller at the praise; she didn't take 50 tries to get this new thing right, and she'll remember it.]
Wheeljack stood in the middle of the throne room and he stood and he stood and he-
His optics were often unfocused these days, unless directly talking with Quick or his lord or someone else over text.
stood and he stood and he
It was getting harder for him to compensate for the twist introduced into his spark, which meant longer and longer periods of time where he was paralyzed by decisions he didn't even remember were in conflict.
stood and he stood and he
"Decepticons don't say sorry," he mumbled, and didn't understand why.
His optics were often unfocused these days, unless directly talking with Quick or his lord or someone else over text.
stood and he stood and he
It was getting harder for him to compensate for the twist introduced into his spark, which meant longer and longer periods of time where he was paralyzed by decisions he didn't even remember were in conflict.
stood and he stood and he
"Decepticons don't say sorry," he mumbled, and didn't understand why.
Edited 2024-01-21 12:22 (UTC)
"What's that, Wheeljack?" Megatron was adjusting some paintings he acquired in his room. Nothing fancy but probably not legally obtained. Forgeries if anything. He'd never get legit copies when the damn room is likey to constantly be attacked...
But they look pretty and liven up the place... The down side is Wheeljack has been standing in place some time. Buffering, he buffers alot these days but Megatron ignored it... its just his will doing his work.
Keeping the trophy nice and comfortable where he was... but.. today he seemed worse off... "Who doesnt' say sorry?"
But they look pretty and liven up the place... The down side is Wheeljack has been standing in place some time. Buffering, he buffers alot these days but Megatron ignored it... its just his will doing his work.
Keeping the trophy nice and comfortable where he was... but.. today he seemed worse off... "Who doesnt' say sorry?"
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