capitalh | stealth music [CLOSED]

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stealth music [CLOSED]

Who: Signless and Starscream
Where: A CONDOR holding center.
When: April 5th ish.
What: Both Signless and Starscream end up hunting for the Spark Extractor at the same time, resulting in shenanigans and possibly other things.
Warnings: Signless problems. Also, Starscream.

His work, as of late, has been a mess.

He hasn't been able to pull himself together, and as the nights roll by, he becomes more and more unsure of what 'normal' he's even trying to return too. His every thought seems to be punctuated with anguish and helplessness, and in the face of it all, he's still hounded by something in his head telling him that he needs to be serving his cause. That is, he needs to be taking revenge, in the way she had allowed him.

But he doesn't know why, anymore. He barely knows who he is. The competition between who he was before and what he is now leaves him feeling like no one at all, just skin and bone and irrational thoughts. And so when he receives some sort of alien signals on his scanner, him going out to check on it is more physical impulse than calculated desire.

He's clothed this time, at least. His body suit is back on, and he has his cloak, and he isn't leaving blood everywhere. The source of the beacon seems to be some kind of CONDOR holding center, presumably for apprehended villains - and more importantly, the things they bring in with them.

He slips in, using his small size to his advantage. He rare strays from the shadows, and when he does find himself encountering CONDOR guards, he dismisses them by causing them intense bouts of irrational fear. They flee, panicking and out of control, as the troll slips closer to the evidence locker.

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For anyone extra familiar with Decepticon tactics and protocol, observing the fact that Starscream is going deep into enemy territory without any sort of back up would be a pretty hard to miss indicator of their meager numbers on earth.

He's being stealthy, of course, or as stealthy as a large robot can be anyway, sending his avatar ahead to scope things out when necessary and creeping around corners. What's unsettling is that he hasn't run into any resistance whatsoever. It's as if all of the humans have abandoned their posts, leaving his path unexpectedly clear. Part of him suspects a trap, but even if his suspicions prove correct he has little choice in the matter of proceeding; an extremely troubling Cybertronian artifact was picked up on their sensors, and it's imperative that it is secured by Decepticon forces. It's bad enough that the humans already have it, but whatever it is it's also vulnerable to Autobots and Alternians like this.

He skulks down the hall, the signal serving as his guide, reflexes on a hair trigger in case of any danger.

The dangerous seeming objects all seemed to be locked up in separate holding cells - presumably so no one can smash into a room and fill their pockets. That's fine, though, because he only really has a passing interest in one of the devices. He slices open the door with a psionic blade.

The target is a large, shield-shaped object. He only knows that its a Cybertronian artifact - something the Empire has learned to track the signals of. What it actually does is unknown to him at first, and he's running on shear impulse. Take it. Bring it back. Serve his Empress.

His expression goes blank as he touches his hand against it, emotional resonance triggering a vision. The context is worse than he would have guessed.

It doesn't take Starscream long to catch up, and he slinks into the room, content for now that there are in fact, no guards in the vicinity.

What he doesn't expect is a troll, much less one that he recognizes and has history with.

"You." His lip curls and he draws up to his full height, sneering and no doubt preparing to say something obnoxiously snarky- and then he catches sight of the object that lead him here in the first place.

His response is bombastic. He balks and takes a few hasty steps back, optics wide with fear and wings bristling with agitation. He has no idea how to handle this situation, the extractor was the last device he'd expected to find in a place like this and now an Alternian literally has his hands on it. This does not bode well.

He gradually recovered from the flashes of memory he's still seen, connected to this device. Wariness and fear. The acknowledgement of great destructive capability. His reaction is slow when he looks up and sees Starscream, visibly afraid.

He stares at the bot for a moment, feeling disconnected and strange.

"This is a weapon," he says blankly, watching him. "It pulls your souls from your bodies."

He's not really sure what to make of that reaction. As far as Starscream is concerned, he's facing down an enemy who now has possession of a device that could easily snuff out his existence like a pathetic, guttering candle... but the troll's behavior doesn't match up with what Starscream assumes his motivations to be, and that baffles him.

He laughs nervously, prepared to try and talk his way out of this if need be. "Now, where exactly would you get an idea like that from?"

He lifts it psionically, bringing it out of the containment cell before he can get cornered. He keeps it floating carefully at his side, covered in a film of red liquid. His expression sharpens a little. Not aggressive, exactly, but focused. He's trying to sort this through in his head.

"I can feel that you're afraid of it," he says, keeping his eyes on the Cybertronian and watching him carefully. The troll looks ragged compared to how he did the first time Starscream encountered him. The arrogance he had in that first encounter is gone, even while he's holding a device that could kill him instantly with no personal risk.

"Arguably, that could be for any number of reasons," Starscream points out, trying to keep his voice smooth and still watching both troll and extractor like a hawk. His ragged appearance does not escape the seeker's notice; what it means, or what the cause might be, is something that is beyond his comprehension at the moment.

He doesn't engage in the argument with Starscream, nor give him the chance to try to convince him of otherwise. The robot's emotions read all too clearly, but while that is something that easily could have marked the bot as prey...his thoughts are conflicting.

"The Empress has asked for this," he says, almost as if in warning. "It could used against your kind easily. It wouldn't hurt one of us, would it?"

These are all questions that Starscream could answer very easily, of course, but naturally he is not very inclined to be sharing the details of such a devastating weapon with an enemy agent.

When he hears that the Empress herself is interested in the artifact though, a far sharper lance of fear jolts his spark, chilling the very energon in his veins. In the hands of a vicious enemy species, that thing could force the entire Cybertronian race even closer to the brink of extinction.

"If it would, is that really the sort of thing that would stop someone like your Empress from using it?" He tries to put on a demanding face. "That device is Decepticon property and as such needs to be turned over to me, now. It is of no practical use to you or your kind."

His expression hardens on Starscream - the demand is a futile one. There is no reason at all that Starscream should think that he would be able to pull any kind of position of authority here, as if Alternia is under his command. For a moment he becomes angry, almost indignant at the idea.

"You're in no position to make demands," his growls. It's a knee jerk reaction, but something that should feel natural. But instead it makes his stomach turn.

Because he can feel that fear sharpen in Starscream's spark, that particular strain of desperation of a dying species. It sends a shiver through him.

"You're right," he says, his voice becoming softer. "She would use it anyway. Not matter how many soldiers she had to kill to employ it."

Edited 2014-06-04 05:26 (UTC)

Starscream tenses when the troll snaps at him (fully prepared to make a break for safety if necessary), but as quickly as that happens he then finds himself relaxing just ever so slightly, surprised that his words actually hit their mark.

He cocks his head slightly, still fearful but slightly more confident now that he has a bit more of a foothold in this negotiation. "It would seem that you and I have something in common then." The trolls words make him think of Megatron, of course. For wouldn't he do the same? Wouldn't they both do the same, if it came to that? The spark extractor is a devastating weapon indeed, one crafted by Decepticon engineers. Starscream has no doubt in his mind that he would relish unleashing such a thing on their enemies liberally and with great satisfaction, but some minuscule little part of him still feels some remorse at the idea.

What would Megatron think, Starscream wonders, if he could see inside his second's mind right now? There was something about the spark extractor being in the hands of a member of another species that could collectively and willingly do great harm to his own species, now stirs that microscopic, remorseful part of him.

"How is that?" he asks. It's a little bit of a challenge, but it's mostly a genuine question. How is it that they have anything in common, here? When it comes down to it, he doesn't know that much about Cybertronians - only what he's been told during his debriefings.

"Well I suppose it's a similarity that is two-fold; we both follow the orders of leaders who have very similar management policies, you see," he points out smoothly.

"Megatron, then," he says, caution in his tone. He glances at the extractor, feeling its weight in his hold and thinking about how easily it could wipe his species out were it ever replicated. Or even just used in a precision strike.

"How do you feel about yours?" he asks.

Starscream looks affronted. If he were the standard loyal minion type, that would be an inoffensive question with a very simple answer.

"That hardly seems relevant to this conversation," he growls defensively.

"I think it is," he says quietly, keeping his eyes on the bot and measuring that emotional reaction carefully. "If you think we have anything in common."

He flexes his claws nervously, trying to think of a reasonable answer that will satisfy the question, expression constantly flitting between worry and aggravation.

"I am his second and his advisor. It's my job provide input when necessary and keep my mouth shut when it is not, regardless of how I actually feel about any given situation."

One wing twitches nervously. It's obvious that he knows that doesn't really answer the question, but he's not really sure what else this troll expects him to say.

His response implies some kind of reluctance, even if he's not sure what it's based out of. Signless just stares at him, as if trying to size up something. He looks at the Extractor again.

"So you would do the same thing," he says softly, "if you had gotten here first."

He's silent for a moment.

"We would take any steps necessary to crush our enemies and end this war. The Decepticons have long followed the philosophy that the ends justify the means."

He stares at Starscream for a long few moments, not saying a word. It's expected, really. He's learned that holding back only results in defeat. That was his own personal failure.

But it makes something in his chest tight and his body chilled.

He starts moving to leave with the device, keeping it carefully in his psionic grip, his gaze lingering on the Cybertronian as he does.

Starscream grunts in surprise, and he cycles out his blasters, though it'd be blatantly obvious even to a non-empath that he would much rather turn tail on the whole situation. Unfortunately, there is too much at stake for him to give into that instinct. Fear of having to report such a massive fuck-up far outweighs the fear of having his spark ripped out.

"You must realize that there is no way I can allow you to deliver that device to your empress."

"You wouldn't be allowing me to do anything," Signless says, slowing his step though not quiet stopping, his gaze still lingering on him. He doesn't mind hesitating, though. He can't seem to sort this all out.

"Allow me to appeal to your rational side then." No point in dancing around the issue any longer; the troll already seems to know exactly what this device is meant for, so this should reveal nothing new.

"If you leave the extractor with me, your kind ultimately loses nothing and gains the gratitude of the Decepticon army. A satisfying and beneficial solution for both sides involved."

Starscream's expression darkens. "On the other hand... If your empire possesses that device, the entire Cybertronian race lays at risk, and that is not something that I can abide by."

"But what do you actually intend to do?" Signless asks, a certain firmness in his statement that suggests he doesn't have pointless for generic blustering.

"I will return it to Lord Megatron. What he decides to do with it from there is his decision, not mine."

It's the most honest answer he can give.

"No," he snaps, like some tier of his patience has finally been exhausted. He isn't furious, but he's frustrated, and he's sick of fucking around. "But what do you intend to do? If you don't get what you want. You won't stop me from leaving if I choose to. You keep talking, but you aren't saying anything."

Starscream cowers for a moment, extremely leery of that extractor activating at any moment if the troll deemed it necessary.

But a thought occurs to him, that if he had any intent of using the device on Starscream, he would have done so by now. It's unlikely that he even knows how to use the damn thing.

Emboldened by this thought, he steps forward. "Who ever said that I wouldn't try to stop you? That's a rather bold assumption on your part." His eyes narrow and wings flare up in a threatening display. "I will not allow your empire to possess an artifact so dangerous to our cause."

Starscream's path of reasoning is a frustrating one to follow, made even more so by his difficult to comprehend emotional cycles. Signless has never doubted that he'll try to stop him. He simply is confident that he won't be able to, when it comes down to it.

But that isn't the part of all this that is bothering him the most. Something about the situation, about the things Starscream keeps saying, is infuriating him. He's learned more about Cybertron's history by now and it's so...futile.

"So what?" Signless snaps, unmoved by Starscream's threatening motions. "So you intend to take it, so that your hand can be the one responsible for your own extinction? You speak as if your species is something you intend to protect, but from all evidence it is not."

"You are not a threat to her, and you never have been. She could just as easily sit back and watch you destroy yourself - you've brought yourself to the edge of extinction without any need for assistance, and now you dare speak to me as if your species is something you intend to protect! To give this to you would be just as much her victory as taking it, you...you hypocrites!"

Starscream recoils as if he was just slapped, expression darkening with indignant ferocity. "Hypocrite? I would say that descriptor applies to you just as well. Here you are, doling out reprimands for acts of war that you have no part in, when you hold in your hands a device that could end an entire people and intend to turn it over to a mad woman! How dare YOU lecture me on the politics of my own species. You cannot possibly understand what Cybertron has dealt with over the millennia, it is a conflict an organic cant possibly hope to understand the nuances of."

He's emanating anger, but also confusion suppressed with a healthy dose of denial. "What I intend to do with the extractor after this meeting is hardly even relevant, because what I am doing right now is saving what is rightfully mine from the shame of being ended by a cowardly space witch and her gang of insects. Do you not wonder why, if we were of such a small threat to her, she would send you after such a tool in the first place? Your entire species survival against us persists only because you are smart enough to not engage face to face, so you cower and conspire to undo us from the shadows!"

He would have long since run away by now, were he still the same bot he was a few months ago, but recent events have left him even more terrified of failure and disappointment than he had previously experienced. "If I let you get away with that device and it makes it back to your master," he trails off wordlessly, expression furious but desperation is coming off of him in waves.

He can feel that desperation, as well as that sense of denial. It's infuriating - how species make the same mistakes over and over again, and how nothing seems able to halt that force of momentum. The Cybertronians were as bad as his own people, if not worse. At least the trolls continued to live.

"You think that your individual might makes you worthy as an Empire, but that is a mindless delusion. Not when you're so shattered. Not when you'd more easily kill yourself then you would fight to defend against an outside force." He hisses.

"You call her a mad woman, and in nearly the same breath that you claim she and Megatron are alike. Would death at his hands really be so different, Commander?" His eyes narrow. "I can feel it in your blood. You're afraid."

He is afraid, and visibly so, now. This conversation was getting more and more stressful by the minute, and it was really starting to fuck with Starscream in a bad way. It was beyond him why this troll was so ridiculously invested in Cybertronian business, and the fact that he thought that he had any right to criticize was incredibly insulting.

Starscream shrinks back and grimaces, red optics boring into red eyes. "Alright, so what is your point? You expect me to just cower here and let you be on your merry way then?" he snaps, hysteria rising in his voice. "If the only two options here are for one or the other of us to leave that device, do you really think that just because you've managed to talk around me that I will suddenly be okay with turning such a device over to you? You are sadly mistaken if that is the case."

And that's when he makes his decision. With a soft growl, he raises the extractor in its glowing field, stepping towards Starscream aggressively.

"So be it," he snaps. "If you so crave your own devastation-" There's a moment where it isn't entirely clear what the troll is going to do. He's just staring at Starscream with a whole new intensity, like he's seen something he hadn't before.

He throws the device to the ground between them. The device lands harmlessly, skittering across the concrete. Signless had been fairly certain it wouldn't go off, but part of him wonders if it would really matter if it had.

"Take it," he says, the fire in his words burning down into something low and smouldering. "Take this to your master, and live another day."

Starscream literally has no words. He's still recoiled, frozen mid-twist with his hands raised defensively against what he'd been certain up until a few seconds ago would his IMMINENT DEATH, and not a single quip or retort springs to mind. He just stares at the troll, slowly unwinding, brows knitted in concern and mouth slightly agape, like he cannot even begin to comprehend what the hell just happened.

The troll just glares at him for a few more moments, before turning to flee the stronghold. He knows this isn't what she would have wanted. He knows that he'll be punished. He supposes that is the point.

The silence seem to stretch on for minutes as Starscream just stands there and tries to make sense of what the hell just happened. Eventually he finally stoops to scoop up the device, delicately inspecting it with fascination.

It's a success, at least, but he still can't quite shake the disquiet that now grips at his spark.

He absconds from the premises before any CONDOR agents regain their senses and come to investigate.

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stealth music [CLOSED]

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