I'm getting Nightmare Before Christmas vibes, here.
Characters: Optimus Prime, anyone who's around. (Open)
Content: A lonely cruise leads Optimus to the center of Iacon, where a bizarre sight awaits.
Location: Iacon center
Time of day: Late night
Warnings: None yet.
Status: Active.
The recent events had been nothing short of prodigious, even if both Optimus and his 'bots had more or less adapted neatly and relatively fast to this Cybertron. Having his future narrated by a reliable source should have been the least of the Prime's shocks, in comparison.
Even if said future coincidentally included his own termination, as it was.
It was nothing ground-shattering. Sacrifices, as well as inevitable duties, were in his job description, he told himself with an attempt to wry humor.
Even so, he needed some time to process the information. He wasn't shaken - he simply wanted to be alone for a few joors and collect his thoughts, in particular to gauge how and when he should disclose the information, or how to act when it was addressed not to cause unnecessary worries.
He needed out of the base, as if his restlessness were caused by some external pull and not the recent revelations. Deciding to go out on a self-assigned night patrol, he transformed and headed towards the Iaconian center, headlights on - there was no use in trying to act sneaky when one had an engine that could be heard from afar, he believed.
It was only after the first creepy, wet squashing noises reached his audios that he started paying attention to his surroundings, realizing the ground was uneven. He transformed quickly, cursing himself for his distraction.
...on the stark black of the street soil there was a sickening orange streak of something that had been reduced to pulp by his tires.
His processor skipped for a klik before finally catching up.
"...Pumpkins?"
This topped every other absurdity. Earth crops had no place growing on an inorganic planet - and they especially had no place in the center of Iacon, where only wide streets and majestic squares should have been.
Optimus scratched an antenna, looking around and unsubspacing his rifle, just for precaution. For all he knew, this could be an hologram or a trap.
The pumpkin patch seemed to stretch quite far, too - he couldn't see its end from where he was.
Better be careful. He couldn't shake the eerie feeling of something inherently wrong and out of place, even if as far as he'd learned of Earthian organic life, vegetables were classified as harmless and not sentient.
(OOC: referring to this plot post.)
Content: A lonely cruise leads Optimus to the center of Iacon, where a bizarre sight awaits.
Location: Iacon center
Time of day: Late night
Warnings: None yet.
Status: Active.
The recent events had been nothing short of prodigious, even if both Optimus and his 'bots had more or less adapted neatly and relatively fast to this Cybertron. Having his future narrated by a reliable source should have been the least of the Prime's shocks, in comparison.
Even if said future coincidentally included his own termination, as it was.
It was nothing ground-shattering. Sacrifices, as well as inevitable duties, were in his job description, he told himself with an attempt to wry humor.
Even so, he needed some time to process the information. He wasn't shaken - he simply wanted to be alone for a few joors and collect his thoughts, in particular to gauge how and when he should disclose the information, or how to act when it was addressed not to cause unnecessary worries.
He needed out of the base, as if his restlessness were caused by some external pull and not the recent revelations. Deciding to go out on a self-assigned night patrol, he transformed and headed towards the Iaconian center, headlights on - there was no use in trying to act sneaky when one had an engine that could be heard from afar, he believed.
It was only after the first creepy, wet squashing noises reached his audios that he started paying attention to his surroundings, realizing the ground was uneven. He transformed quickly, cursing himself for his distraction.
...on the stark black of the street soil there was a sickening orange streak of something that had been reduced to pulp by his tires.
His processor skipped for a klik before finally catching up.
"...Pumpkins?"
This topped every other absurdity. Earth crops had no place growing on an inorganic planet - and they especially had no place in the center of Iacon, where only wide streets and majestic squares should have been.
Optimus scratched an antenna, looking around and unsubspacing his rifle, just for precaution. For all he knew, this could be an hologram or a trap.
The pumpkin patch seemed to stretch quite far, too - he couldn't see its end from where he was.
Better be careful. He couldn't shake the eerie feeling of something inherently wrong and out of place, even if as far as he'd learned of Earthian organic life, vegetables were classified as harmless and not sentient.
(OOC: referring to this plot post.)