Megatron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paxpertyrannidem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-11-22 10:35 pm
paxpertyrannidem) wrote in legionworld2017-11-22 10:35 pm
Entry tags:
open log
Who| Megatron and YOU
What| exploring, being needlessly Extra, making a scene in the walmart with drift
Where| All over Legion World
When| Post the most recent plots.
Warnings/Notes| an overly dramatic reunion, shooting sim robots with big hologram guns
a. biome
Cybertronian wilderness wasn't a particularly comfortable-looking place on its own. Metallic dust coats the hills pulverized by the radiation of a star that normally had little protective atmosphere to get in its way. It was cold and devoid of anything resembling life on Earth. It was home.
What looked like a battlefield coating its surface looked perfectly in line with the rest of the desolate looking place. Dull remnants of once grand buildings and the skeletons of a crashed ships streaked through it. The remains of Kaon just as he remembered it. It had been millenia since their planet had become uninhabitable and their species forced to become space-faring nomads. One would think that perhaps he might opt for a version of their world a little less obliterated by total war, but he preferred this reminder instead.
He even included the makeshift throne crafted from Sentinel Prime himself - half furniture, half Sentinel arranged in a decorative fashion. And it was here Megatron sat, eyes smoldering and with energon cube in hand. He takes a long drink in silence.
b. sim room
After having arrived gunless to an alien world - worse, one full of organic creatures - it doesn't take long for Megatron to fulfill his due diligence and survey some of the weaponry currently available. For posterity, of course. The sim environment is a blank room, with not even a single target in sight. Yet.
What lie at his feet are seven guns, each to scale for a heavily built thirty-five foot space robot. Excessive? Maybe. But totally necessary in Megatron's opinion.
Two were of Cybertronian design: one being his currently missing arm cannon, the other a sniper rifle easily as long as he is tall. To the far right was a simple pistol, rather paltry compared to the other two, but necessary. All solid light holograms generated from the rather specific memories of a person who had intimately used them for millions of years, down to some of the nicks in the metal.
The other four were local models he had found in the database. Two energy-based, two solid projectile. Weapons that had, for whatever reason, been built to a similar scale. There had been more, but he narrowed it down to these four. The closest approximations to the Cybertronian weapons that he could find while perusing archives.
Kneeling down, he could be found examining one of the solid-light guns, disassembling and reassembling it. Reloading it. Examining all the functions and mechanisms and familiarizing himself with the alien tech, occasionally suspicious of the fidelity of the solid light projection. You know. Priorities.
c. cruiser docks
Sometimes, a guy needs the peace and quiet provided by the empty, inhospitable void of space. Flight wasn't something that usually came naturally, but Shockwave and Soundwave had truly done rather marvelous jobs in building him a new body. His vehicle mode handled like a dream.
Eventually, after familiarizing himself with some of the outside of the moon-sized station, he returns, not particularly looking for a proper docking space so much as an area of the bay that had enough room for him to shift back to root mode. He enters the cluster of cruisers as a black, triangular sliver of a space-worthy bomber, purple plumes spewing out of the exhausts.
The black sliver slows over an empty area, splits down the middle and transforms, going from sleek aircraft to grouchy looking Megatron as the engines cut and he lands on his feet.
for drift: shopping area
On a flight within the larger open areas of Legion World, Megatron spots a familiar white speck on the ground. The only other Cybertronian on this forsaken world, and he had finally found him. Never one to shy away from making a grand entrance, he transforms mid-air, allowing himself to fall towards the open-air courtyard of unassuming shops.
He slows his descent with the jets in his feet, but only just enough to allow for a thud to reverberate in the ground and shake some leaves off the trees planted at the center of various arranged benches. He stands over a futuristic water fountain in front of the exit to the courtyard, paying no mind to the Legion staffers who happened to be attempting to go about their business without giant robots getting in the way.
"It looks like our paths have crossed again, Deadlock."
d. wildcard
ooc: Feel free to poke me for plots at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
hematite
What| exploring, being needlessly Extra, making a scene in the walmart with drift
Where| All over Legion World
When| Post the most recent plots.
Warnings/Notes| an overly dramatic reunion, shooting sim robots with big hologram guns
a. biome
Cybertronian wilderness wasn't a particularly comfortable-looking place on its own. Metallic dust coats the hills pulverized by the radiation of a star that normally had little protective atmosphere to get in its way. It was cold and devoid of anything resembling life on Earth. It was home.
What looked like a battlefield coating its surface looked perfectly in line with the rest of the desolate looking place. Dull remnants of once grand buildings and the skeletons of a crashed ships streaked through it. The remains of Kaon just as he remembered it. It had been millenia since their planet had become uninhabitable and their species forced to become space-faring nomads. One would think that perhaps he might opt for a version of their world a little less obliterated by total war, but he preferred this reminder instead.
He even included the makeshift throne crafted from Sentinel Prime himself - half furniture, half Sentinel arranged in a decorative fashion. And it was here Megatron sat, eyes smoldering and with energon cube in hand. He takes a long drink in silence.
b. sim room
After having arrived gunless to an alien world - worse, one full of organic creatures - it doesn't take long for Megatron to fulfill his due diligence and survey some of the weaponry currently available. For posterity, of course. The sim environment is a blank room, with not even a single target in sight. Yet.
What lie at his feet are seven guns, each to scale for a heavily built thirty-five foot space robot. Excessive? Maybe. But totally necessary in Megatron's opinion.
Two were of Cybertronian design: one being his currently missing arm cannon, the other a sniper rifle easily as long as he is tall. To the far right was a simple pistol, rather paltry compared to the other two, but necessary. All solid light holograms generated from the rather specific memories of a person who had intimately used them for millions of years, down to some of the nicks in the metal.
The other four were local models he had found in the database. Two energy-based, two solid projectile. Weapons that had, for whatever reason, been built to a similar scale. There had been more, but he narrowed it down to these four. The closest approximations to the Cybertronian weapons that he could find while perusing archives.
Kneeling down, he could be found examining one of the solid-light guns, disassembling and reassembling it. Reloading it. Examining all the functions and mechanisms and familiarizing himself with the alien tech, occasionally suspicious of the fidelity of the solid light projection. You know. Priorities.
c. cruiser docks
Sometimes, a guy needs the peace and quiet provided by the empty, inhospitable void of space. Flight wasn't something that usually came naturally, but Shockwave and Soundwave had truly done rather marvelous jobs in building him a new body. His vehicle mode handled like a dream.
Eventually, after familiarizing himself with some of the outside of the moon-sized station, he returns, not particularly looking for a proper docking space so much as an area of the bay that had enough room for him to shift back to root mode. He enters the cluster of cruisers as a black, triangular sliver of a space-worthy bomber, purple plumes spewing out of the exhausts.
The black sliver slows over an empty area, splits down the middle and transforms, going from sleek aircraft to grouchy looking Megatron as the engines cut and he lands on his feet.
for drift: shopping area
On a flight within the larger open areas of Legion World, Megatron spots a familiar white speck on the ground. The only other Cybertronian on this forsaken world, and he had finally found him. Never one to shy away from making a grand entrance, he transforms mid-air, allowing himself to fall towards the open-air courtyard of unassuming shops.
He slows his descent with the jets in his feet, but only just enough to allow for a thud to reverberate in the ground and shake some leaves off the trees planted at the center of various arranged benches. He stands over a futuristic water fountain in front of the exit to the courtyard, paying no mind to the Legion staffers who happened to be attempting to go about their business without giant robots getting in the way.
"It looks like our paths have crossed again, Deadlock."
d. wildcard
ooc: Feel free to poke me for plots at
no subject
Megatron is a monster, maybe, but he didn't start out that way. And Drift had been a monster once, too. If he believes that he himself could change, then Megatron...even Megatron could.
no subject
"You certainly seem quite eager to forget your own past, Deadlock"
Megatron gestures ahead to the silhouette of the Cybertronian biome.
"You broke your own chains. You crushed the oligarchs who hurt you, and helped me free their slaves. There is no shame in that."
no subject
Megatron might laugh at truth and justice, but those were things he'd once valued too. Drift wonders just how deeply that's buried in Megatron these days, what it would take to bring them back to the surface. No small task, that's for sure.
"But you are right. I did help free Cybertron from the Senate's regime. I don't regret that. But everything we did after that?" Drift spreads his hands, turning his face upward. "There was no purpose to it. No real reason, except destruction for destruction's sake. Revenge for every slight, no matter how small, no matter how old. Just trying to prove we were the strongest, and for what? In the end, we utterly destroyed what we first sought to liberate. What does freedom mean when you have no home to go back to? When you've burned down everything you wanted in the first place?"
no subject
Something he'd said to Optimus in that VVH cell had gotten to him, as loathe as he was to admit. Something that was a poignant reminder that his vicious nature didn't start from a genuine place. It was a trait that was ironed into him from circumstances and force of habit, and he had simply realized it to be too late to ever turn back. One can't simply 'undo' the monstrosity he's created.
"Once you begin to compromise with your enemy, you open the door to surrender."
no subject
Drift takes a few steps away from Megatron and transforms to his alt mode, with none of the usual flash. He's lost the mood for it.
"The Megatron who recruited me understood that sometimes, violence was necessary for great change, but it was the means, not the end. But you aren't the Megatron I once knew. Not anymore."