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Title: Riding to a New Life

PCs: Silence, Soundwave

Location: ++ Kalis ++

Date: 06 March 2015

Summary: Silence's old Master is dead; Soundwave comes to pick up the pieces.


-The Decepticons are no longer just a movement, they're a tide of angry motion. This cycle that angry tide had been turned against resources in Kalis. The mix of rage and righteous indignation makes for a fair bit of 'acceptible loss' as far as orders are concerned. A few buildings had been caught in the attack; one in particular had been damanged pretty bad from above, the ceiling caved in.

All this is in the past now; most of the Decepticons have left; at least, those with the freedom of the air have. Unfortunately, the building that had been destroyed was not empty. In fact, it was the second residence of an artist when he wanted to 'get away' for whatever reason.


-Soundwave is in a delicate situation right now all of his own. He's still posing as a Senator's Aide, though he actually just attacked that Senator, disabling Ratbat as he was attempting a crime of his own and taking Ratbat's very spark. But his act of loyalty to the Senate is just that- an act, and he is only truly loyal to the Decepticon cause. 

He was here, guiding the raid but from afar. He still can't afford to be directly seen ordering an assault like this. Besides, it's not his style anyway. He prefers to work from the sidelines, watching and waiting for the opportune moment to strike- or send others in to do so. The raid has been successfully completed, and now Soundwave begins to make his way from the scene. It's time to get back to Kaon.


-While passing the damaged building Soundwave will probably get a strong sense of confusion rising from within, mingled with sadness. The two slowly merge together until they're in roughly equal proportions. This, by itself, probably doesn't call much attention; with the damage to the building it isn't hard to imagine that someone might have sustained a sort of loss. What /is/ noteworthy, however, is the way the emotions seem to be flickering in and out rather abruptly without any general fading that would be accounted for in the wavering of intensity of an emotional situation, or a slow decline like the diming of a spark about to go out. It just starts, stop, and then resumes at the same level of intensity.


-As a telepath, Soundwave has experienced a great deal many mental thought patterns. Enough so that the outlier sort of takes it for granted in a way most everyone else on the planet could not. But every rare once in a awhile, even he is surprised. This is one of those times. 

The carrier stops just as he was preparing to transform and drive away. Red visor gleaming for a monent, he turns to look in the direction of the odd thought patterns. Then, with another scan around to make sure no one else is coming yet, Soundwave slips through the rubble to try and hone in on the other being.


-Eventually Soundwave will enter the suite on the top floor. Lying on the ground, with a metal support beam rammed straight through his chest, is a rather fancy looking mech. The kind that has the money and/or status to keep himself up with the best parts and paint. From the look of the damage and the 'dullness' of the face, it's a pretty good bet that the mech is dead. Clearly this is not where the emotions are coming from.

Kneeling beside the body, however, is a rather odd looking little femme, perhaps a foot shorter than Rumble or Frenzy. She's pulling on the hand of the dead mech and making small sobbing sounds. "Master?" she asks plaintively. Tug, tug. "Master?" It's pretty evident that the emotions are coming from her. But every so often, they just cut out, even though there is no visual change to her expression or mannerisms.


-Soundwave's head tilts slightly at this. He pauses for a moment to study it, hidden by shadows as he takes in the scene. The dead mech is of little interest: a high caste elite, most likely, and not the kind that elecits the outlier's sympathies. As a disposable himself, he has little love of the most wealthy. Especially when they have living slaves, which the small femme's words could indicate she was. A masterless slave, now? 

There's a long period of silence, then Soundwave steps out into the light, where the femme might see him. He looms overhead, but his demeanor is calm.


-Eventually the little femme turns her greenish optics up towards the tall mech. "He's not waking up," she says quietly, her expression dismayed. She doesn't seemed alarmed that Soundwave is there, not yet. As he gets within a certain radius, he'll notice now that her emotions are stable, but the sounds from outside seem to be flickering in and out the same way. Strange. "Why won't he wake up?" As if the beam sticking through him isn't reason enough. Then again, grief often brings about denial.


-Not just strange- /fascinating/. Soundwave finds himself intrigued by this small femme and this odd audial/emotional effect centered around her. He looks down at the other Cybertronian, then says as gently as possible in his quiet monotone voice, "He cannot wake up anymore. Who was he?"


-The little femme just blinks. "He was the Master." As if that answered the question in it's entirety. She shakes her head a few times. "Never?" Her lower lip sticks out a little bit and she pulls on his arm again. "But...what will I do without him?" Now Soundwave will be sensing a great deal of fear in place too, vulnerability, and uncertainty.


-Soundwave's optic ridges furrow down just a bit, though it isn't very noticeable under his red visor. Master. No Cybertronian should be a "master" to another. The femme, meanwhile, appears rather... lost. Sort of like he was once. "He was your Master? ...Are you a slave?"


-Silence umms quietly as she seems to think this over. "I'm not sure." She doesn't seem, stupid, exactly, but rather there's a very young sort of quality to her. Sheltered and very uninformed. "I was never /called/ that."


-Soundwave considers this, then slowly he kneels down so that he is looking her more face to face. "Did you live here with him? What did you do?" His head tilts again. "Who are you?"


-"My name is Silence," the little femme says, though she freezes for a moment as he kneels closer. But since he hasn't done anything else, she relaxes again. She wasn't afraid of him exactly, but more the proximity. "Oh, the Master is a painter. A lot of people call him a master, his works are masterpieces. He's done works on walls, but he usually paints bodies. I'm a paint sprayer, so we make art together. But he is the one with the vision." There's pride there; she's proud of her master's work.


-Ahh. Perhaps Soundwave jumped to conclusions too soon. It can be difficult to tell: in this case the mech in question is dead, so he can't simply read his mind and find out anymore. In this day and age, a "Master" could mean any number of things... some less pleasant than others. Soundwave has seen and felt the uglier side. "Silence. I see. So he was kind to you?"


-"Well, he looks after me, and I help him paint," Silence says. "But he always speaks softly to me, and that's nice, right?" She doesn't seem completely sure, though dishonesty isn't flickering through those emotions. "I always have enough energon and rest, and my systems are always maintained very well. Though, when he has some of his company, I have to go hide, because he says not everyone out there is nice, and only he will look after me properly." Then comes more fear. "You're not one of the," and she drops her voice to a whisper, "bad mechs are you?"


-This "Master" doesn't sound entirely on the up-and-up, but he doesn't sound like the worst of all mechs either. Soundwave's gaze turns to study the dead artist before turning once more to Silence. He gives her a small, slow shake of the head. "Negative. I am...one of the "good guys"." In his mind he is. "I desire equality. A planet and society where all can choose their own destinies and are beholden to no one. A place where the small and disposable are held in as great esteem as the highest flier. A place where you can be whatever you want to be."


-Silence's optics go wide. "That sounds like a nice place. Master always said it wasn't safe outside." She points to the flower on her chest. "He said I was like a flower, precious but delicate and that most people would want to crush me." Yes, someone sounds like she was made to be very dependant on her 'master'. "No one ever asked me what I wanted to be. I just came out like this and that was that."


-"But a flower needs the sun." Soundwave gazes at the rose painted on her chest. "Flowers are delicate, but they contain a surprising strength and resiliency when tested against the wind. They just need to know when to remain still... and when to flow with the breeze." The outlier glances outside. "Some would crush a small individual like yourself. Others, like myself, simply appreciate the differences and the unique talents each individual brings to this world." LOoking back to her, he asks, "What /would/ you like to be?"


-Silence thinks a little bit about that. "I like painting, but it would be nice to paint when I want to and where I want to," she says after a bit. "I liked making people pretty," which rings true with a simple sort of joy that those much more jaded have lost the ability to feel, "but Master took the credit. He said that it was better that way." With all that Soundwave has seen of Starscream, and from his own dealings with others, he probably knows a lot about various manipulations, and it should be clear by now that Silence's 'master' has so very neatly and sweetly manipulated this femme.


-Yes... Soundwave has seen THAT sort. He looks coldly down on the dead mech, then turns to the small femme and reaches out a hand. He could tell her her "Master" was a manipulative jerk, but she probably wouldn't believe it right now. "Your Master may have said that, but he is gone now." Another glance outside. "Nor can you remain here, it will not be safe. The Autobots will come." Dire words. 

He then looks back to the femme. How to ask her about that odd affect he noticed earlier. "You can affect... other things too? Like... sounds?"


-Silence doesn't even know what Autobots /are/ really. Her master kept her carefully ignorant. She both looks and 'feels' surprised when he mentions the sound. "I can turn sounds off. Block radio calls, things like that. But, it's kind of a bubble," and she makes a round shape with her hands. "Sometimes Master didn't want to be disturbed at work, so he told me to think quiet thoughts."

Tentatively she reaches for the larger mechs' hand. As she takes it, Soundwave will feel a surge of trust flare up; she took him completely at his word that he was a good guy, and as such, is ready to follow him out. But she does look back and say, "Bye Master." Just think how things might have turned out if someone else had shown up afterwards...someone that didn't have Soundwave's convictions or his acute mind.


-One of the outlier's optic ridges raise up at that. VERY interesting indeed. Yes, he will be keen to further investigate just what unusual ability the small femme has. "You have a unique gift. It should be celebrated, not ...kept quiet." Yes, he's aware of the irony given her name. 

As she reaches for his hand, he allows her to do so. Soundwave is capable of cold, calculated actions- even wrenching someone's spark right out of their chest in the name of /acquiring resources/. Though the thing is: Ratbat deserved it. Or rather- he deserved death and Soundwave went easy on him. But there's another side to the mech- the carrier side that sees someone small, lost, disposable- and wants to see them safe. Wants to protect and guide them, rather than take advantage of them. He was once there himself. His large hand gently grasps hers. "You may come with me. I have a family that would like to meet you. We help each other- and we are never alone. We will help you find your own path." 

With that, the carrier guides his new charge out towards the light- perhaps for the first time.


-"It kind of has to be kept quiet, or it wouldn't work," says Silence, actually laughing, showing that she isn't actually dim so much as...conditioned into a state of child-like thought process. But at this point she doesn't look back to her Master, mostly because she doesn't want to lose the resolve to leave. If he's never going to wake up, then he can't help her any more. This blue mech, with his mask and dour paint, has at least stepped forward to guide her.

"I don't get out much; only when we move between his homes. He has another home in another city, but I don't remember the name," she says chatting easily. "This wasn't his pretty home though. He usually comes here when he talks to the angry clients."


-Soundwave is at least somewhat amused at the disparity between her name and how chatty she is being. But mostly right now he is cautious as he makes a way for them through the rubble. He takes her out on the streets after first checking to make sure no Autobots or other trouble is nearby. "...Do you know who the angry clients were?"


-Silence tilts her little head to the side. "I never got names. Most of them wanted to be painted a new way so they could hide, but they didn't like handing over the money to the Master," Silence says. "Sometimes they were femmes though, and I didn't really understand why they were angry; the work he did on them was lovely." She gives a little sigh as she remembers how pretty some of those femmes were. "But they said he marked them. I'm not sure what that means."


-Now that optic ridge shoots up even more. Ah. He'd heard something about an artist with some ... odd proclivities and a way of "marking territory". Could this be... what was his name, Pigment? To Silence he simply replies, "I imagine his work was very beautiful." No need to spell things out. To himself- he makes a note to find this other residence Silence mentioned and send Laserbeak and Buzzsaw out to acquire more resources there, before the authorities find the mech dead here. Those paints, other finishing work, and whatever else they might find could come in handy when Decepticon soldiers need repairs. 

Soundwave stops in the street and prepares to transform into his truck mode. "We should be leaving. I believe you will be small enough to ride in my alt mode, Silence. We will not have too long of a journey ahead." He transforms and there in front of her is a security vehicle, his passenger door opening to offer her a ride. Of course some people might be leery of accepting rides with strangers...


-Having been assured that Soundwave is a 'good guy', Silence climbs in without much hesitation, other than simply the fact that it's a vehicle she isn't used to. Despite her almost childish ways, she is at least a respectful passenger and doesn't try to poke around or fidget. "I wouldn't mind if it was a long ride," she says, almost wistfully. "And yes, the art was very beautiful. I can paint some on my own, but I don't know if I'll ever be as good as the Master."


-Soundwave replies, "Time will tell. But I believe you've got talent- and not just for painting." With that, he drives her towards a new life.

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