INTRO LOG - JUNE 2014

[rekindlemods]

Who: Everyone
Where: The Welcome Center
When: 18th June, late afternoon
Summary: The new arrivals, freshly pulled from their worlds or others, awaken in a strange place...
Warnings: Inbox death may occur. System overload at own risk. NPC responses may be slow.

It's a shuddering breath, a sensation of being pulled to elsewhere and finding oneself pressed against something on the soft and some place cozy. However, before one can fully stir, there is and odd, warm stirring sensation that lifts you up from wherever you've been dropped, when you begin to drift off once more.

Yet the feeling passes quickly, and when you awaken, you begin to realize your surroundings. It's a small room with what some might recognize as a Far Eastern theme when it comes to decor, from the walls to the sofa (or bed) you find yourself on. Illumination is provided by carefully crafted lamps, and even a candle flickering on a nearby desk. The doors are made from paper and wood, with a thin frame; through them it's easy to hear other people stirring, talking, or coming to.

You are not alone...

Close at hand there's a note that reads:

WELCOME CENTER
Newcomers: Please come downstairs to the lobby for refreshments and your welcome packets!

Odd... This wasn't written in your own language, and yet you find it easily understandable. Soon enough, if you don't enter on your own, there's a gentle knocking on the door as someone comes from downstairs to usher you along.

"Welcome to Saeng Seong! I know you must be confused as to where you are and what's going on, but we promise to explain this to you once you've had a chance to stretch your legs!"

Whether you go downstairs immediately or linger a little longer, eventually you must come down and get out of the small space, and sooner rather than later would probably be better. You'll find yourself in a well-lit lobby, filled with comfortable-looking couches and chairs. Along one wall are refreshment tables, loaded with all sorts of cool and relieving food and drink, including some you probably aren't familiar with. It's just as well they're in good supply, as the windows outside show a city well heated from a summer sun.

On the wall opposite are a pair of desks, each with a sign, and one person at her station-

Rhea, General Assistance
Andi, Technological Assistance

The plaques have a shiny new look to them, as do the desks. The one with 'Andi' listed appears to be empty, though. Gathered around both desks and several tables are boxes as well, and...Empty jars? The woman minding her desk doesn't appear to give them a second thought.

However, before you can go over and give at least one of them a piece of your mind and ask questions, the same person who ushered you downstairs hands you a manilla envelope that contains your welcome packet, urging you to read this before asking the two figures questions that the packet likely answers.

Inside it, you will find: a ring with a key and apartment number on it, some kind of cash card, a map and informational guide to the city, and a letter folded neatly on the top -

Welcome to Saeng Seong!

You are among a new group of arrivals to our city, from many far-apart worlds.
We have gathered you here because our city is in a crisis, and we are at our last resorts. The energy of the city is in a slow downward spiral, and is dangerously close to expiring altogether.

That's where you come in - you and everyone else we've brought to the city. Unlike those of us here, you have the potential to generate the energy the city needs, but you'll need to work together to do it.

Why? Because the energy can only be generated when two people touch each other. Any touch will do, but it must be between two of you who are new to the city. If you don't keep in contact with someone, eventually your energy will begin to drain as well, making you dangerously ill.

A few other things:

The closed-off sections of the city are closed off for a reason; approaching them will cause your energy to drain very rapidly. We're working to open the rest of the city to you as soon as we can, but for now, please remain within the first five districts of the city.

You have been given a key to a one-bedroom apartment in a complex set aside for you and the other new arrivals, near the riverside in the 1st district. You're free to change your living quarters whenever you like, and we encourage you to move in with someone in one of the larger apartments. When you want to change, just come back to this building to exchange your key.

We've also included a cash card with a living stipend; if you're unfamiliar with this system, or the network established for new arrivals, you can talk to Devin in the lobby for help. It's what he's here for. If you need medical assistance, contact Mai, one of our nurses.

Again, welcome, and thank you for all your help.

Irene Rhea
Arrival Liaison

Outside, and through the translucent glass you can see a banner hanging from the tiled roof of the building across the street. The cheerful colors on it match well against a bright blue sky:

WELCOME TO SAENG SEONG
(ENJOY YOUR STAY!)

Comments

[triggerhappycopter]

His growing volatile rage at the door stuck around his neck is immediately forgotten at the sound of Krok's voice. Spinister comes to a dead stop and turns to see where it'd come from, but Krok is... well, somewhat short, and so the door blocks his view when he tries to look down.

After a moment of staring incomprehensibly at the paper and wood, he says, somewhat sternly, "You're not supposed to be out of the medbay yet, Krok."

[dadcepticon]

Spinister turns and Krok actually has to duck to avoid getting a doorframe to the face. He grabs it on one side to steady it and maybe keep Spinister still, and so the big copter – Krok may be slightly jealous that even in a place where they all seem smaller, Spinister still manages to be taller than Krok – can at least get an idea of where he is in relation.

"The medbay?" Krok echoes, frowning as he reaches up with his other hand to carefully break only the pieces he must to remove the door from his crewmate's neck. The last time he was under Spinister's medical care was… oh. Oh. "That was a few months ago for me," he explains, "because we don't all appear to be from the exact same time. I'm much better now, I promise." Fortunately, his eye has healed up neatly after his beating last month – and in spite of loyalties and logic, he really ought to thank Ratchet for the assistance rendered since the medic was by no means obligated – so he needn't worry about Spinister making threats over it.

The door comes free with a tearing sound as more paper gives way and Krok winces, then sets what's left of the door against the nearest wall. He assumes a staff member will take care of it later.

[triggerhappycopter]

Hope the staff members were also doing something about the potential fire upstairs too. Awkwaaard.

Spin stops moving well before Krok grabs the door out of well honed 'not squishing your tiny Captain' instincts. Well, okay, Krok was never that small, but still.

"What," the heli utters in response to his leader's explanation. Anything else is lost in unhappy grumbling noises as the the door is pulled off of him, the paper catching and tearing on his chevrons. Suddenly freed from the horrific fate of being attached to a paper door, Spinister celebrates in his new found freedom as he usually does: childlike wonder... and then suspiciously eying the nearest light source.

His sight finally lands on Krok and he blinks in utter befuddlement, striding over to try and put his hands all over his Captain face. "Whoa, you healed up real fast!"

Yeah, so, the time travel thing flew completely over his head.

[dadcepticon]

By no means does he find hands so close to his face quite as disturbing as anything sharp, but Krok still jerks back and away in reflex, trying to avoid having his head grabbed.

"Yes!" he says, maybe a little too sharply, his voice a little too panicky for an instant. "Yes, I did. You do very good work, Spinister." It may be best to leave the issue of time's passing for a later conversation.

[triggerhappycopter]

Spinister startles and immediately draws his hands back against his chest.

"Oh," the heli blinks owlishly, his own voice pitching nervously. He didn't really know about Krok's trauma related problems yet having been pulled from just before his Captain had woken up from the surgery.

"Okay?" he asks gently after a moment.

[dadcepticon]

"I'm fine," Krok answers. He might be misconstruing the question, but Spinister sounds anxious and it's best to make sure he calms down before any shooting can start. "It's– I'm fine. I'm sorry." Flustered, Krok looks around for a new focus. Refreshments sound good, and they seem to have a selection this time around. "Here," he murmurs and guides Spinister with a careful hand on the larger Decepticon's elbow, "let's get something to snack on. I'm sure we'll both feel better."

[triggerhappycopter]

It was the correct interpretation of the question, Spinister just asks it the way Decepticon usually ask about emotional things; in a way that can totally be interpreted as something else, thus giving the other mech an easy exit. It was probably not a conscious thing, at least.

He gives Krok a rather concerned look but he doesn't push the matter and obediently lets himself be guided towards the drinks.

"... Should I make a distraction while you grab things?"

[dadcepticon]

Krok blinks once, twice, stops in his tracks.

"What?" he blurts out, confused. The stop comes just in time for one of the staff members to approach with envelope in hand. Seeing as Krok got his some time ago, this one must be for Spinister.

[triggerhappycopter]

Spinister blinks too. "We don't have money?"

He mechanically accepts the envelope before realizing someone had handed something to him. The moment he finally notices the staff member he gives them a suspicious glare, grip tightening on his gun.

[dadcepticon]

Krok sees the tension in Spinister's hand and promptly puts his own on top of it. He is not going to have any more of an incident than may have happened already and see Ultra Magnus try to come down on them like a load of bricks.

"These are offered freely," he says, giving Spinister a stern look. "We don't have to worry about paying for them. It's… a party, I suppose. The hosts have put it on to celebrate you and some others showing up. They did the same for me a few months ago."

[triggerhappycopter]

Spinister looks down at the hand. He looks up at the staff member's retreating back. He looks down at the hand. Then he shrugs in acceptance and relaxes-

Wait. Free energon?

"... It's not filled with weird untested drugs, is it?"

[dadcepticon]

"If it is, I seem to be doing well enough," Krok drawls. "I've been living off the stuff since I arrived and as my insides have yet to fall out, I'm fairly certain it's safe for consumption." Hopefully that wasn't too much sarcasm all at once to lay on Spinister. He doesn't always catch it.

To illustrate his point, just in case, Krok picks a cube for himself at random. He's feeling peckish anyway.

[triggerhappycopter]

The sarcasm goes flying comically over his head. You can almost hear the whistling noise as it did.

Fortunately, they've covered drinking potentially deadly stuff from corpses before, and Spinister has at least become inured to the idea of dangerous fuel.

"What about mind control nanites?" he asks, but he doesn't seem too concerned about it as he's choosing a cube to drink. "You wouldn't know if you got mind control nanites."

[dadcepticon]

"I wouldn't let you drink it if I thought there was the slightest chance of that," says Krok, growing exasperated. Spinister is picking up some terrible habits from Misfire.

After a moment or two to get a sip down, Krok looks sidelong at Spinister.

"I'm glad you're all right," he says, muffling the words behind his drink.

[triggerhappycopter]

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" Spinister blinks, leaning against the wall nearest to the smaller mech. He stops peering at Krok only long enough to pop his intake and inhale the whole cube in one go.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he suddenly catches sight of the envelope he'd been given. When did that get there?

"What's this?" the heli wonders, tucking the empty cube into the crook of his elbow so that he could neatly tear the top off the envelope and slip the letter out.

[dadcepticon]

Because I'm not sure how well you lot function without me for extended periods of time. Krok keeps that more uncharitable version to himself for now.

"Because I don't know what could have happened while I was gone," he says instead, and at least it's the truth. He's been away a few months now; any number of ill fates could have befallen the crew of the W.A.P., from the FJD showing up again to the ship simply exploding. Instead, here they are. Most of them, anyway. He hopes Crankcase – and yes, even Grimlock – are safe, wherever they are.

It occurs to him as Spinister opens the envelope that he has no idea how well the gunner can read. He readies himself to explain things either way.

[triggerhappycopter]

"Misfire adopted Grimlock and Crankcase adopted Fulcrum and we were in the medbay." No, he really wasn't going to start understanding time and dimensional displacement thing anytime soon, sorry Krok. "You weren't gonna be gone long anymore, I think. Repairs were kinda okay after I taped your brain module to your chest."

Spinister actually reads just fine! His ability to understand things was just... weirdly specific.

"Well, we do touch a lot," he concludes, seeming entirely unsurprised. "Think that's why we were called here then?"

[dadcepticon]

"After you – you what?" Krok blinks, other concerns momentarily forgotten in light of Spinister's little info-drop. Carefully, he nudges Spinister's arm to try and get the copter facing him instead of looking at the letter. "You did what?"

Krok has never heard the details of how he survived Vos' attack. He's suddenly not sure he really wants to hear them, but he's heard worse in his time. Seen worse. So he asks anyway.

[triggerhappycopter]

Spinister blinks and looks down at Krok at the touch.

"Well," his face takes on a faraway look as takes a moment to recount the procedure. Most of Krok's face had been removed, disassembled and set aside on of the few cleared tables in the bay. "I had to replace your optical neural relays and both sets of visual sensors. Needed to disassemble most of your cranial unit to get at those anyways, but I didn't wanna be doing near-brain surgery if I didn't need to."

Cybertronian brain modules were pretty delicate, enough so that Spinister had removed half of Krok's head and, well, taped it out of the way. Sure, it could probably survive heat damage from blow torches just fine (Rung's had survived worse, after all), but the heli hadn't exactly wanted Krok to survive having his face shredded apart only to get brain damage from carelessness.

Ironically, it was kind of a good thing that Vos's face was meant to be a torture device and not one meant for execution. The drills didn't go anywhere deep enough to potentially damage the module.

[dadcepticon]

Krok takes in the story with a sort of numb detachment. Yes, he's hearing about his own surgery, but he was catatonic after someone shot him with Vos' face still boring into his head. It all might as well have happened to someone else entirely.

"…I see," he murmurs once Spinister finishes recounting the matter. On some level he knew Spinister was talented with a scalpel, but – well. Having it explained so matter-of-factly is different. "I – thank you." He reaches up to rest his hand on Spinister's shoulder and give him a light, friendly shake. "Thank you."

[triggerhappycopter]

The sincerity in Krok's voice makes Spinister hunch awkwardly and he endures the shaking somewhat stiffly. He's not... really used to being thanked for much of anything and he's not entirely sure what to do when Krok speaks at him with that tone.

"No problem," he mumbles haltingly.

[dadcepticon]

As if only just realising how awkward he's making the situation, Krok withdraws his hand and steps back a pace or two. After a second, he reboots his vocal processor and looks at the far wall to his left so Spinister can also recover some dignity.

"So what quarters were you assigned?" he asks. Change of topic. Innocuous one at that. Should put them both back on a proper footing.

[triggerhappycopter]

The distance comes almost as a relief. He's not... used to that. Whatever that had been. There's a strange fluttering ache somewhere in his chest, but nothing came up on his onboard diagnostic programs.

"Uhm," the heli utters, disconcerted and trying to regain his composure. He quickly re-reads the letter and supplies Krok with a muttered, "3-03 in building one."

[dadcepticon]

"That's right across the hall from mine," Krok says, blinking in surprise. He hadn't really expected to have a friend so nearby. It'll certainly make keeping a watchful eye on the big 'Con easier, and Krok dares a tentative smile. "At the risk of speaking too soon," he adds, "I think maybe someone up there is finally giving us a break."

[triggerhappycopter]

"...!" Spinister looks extremely alarmed and then whips his head upwards, gun following in short order.