WHO: Animated!Jetstorm and OPEN
WHAT: Cassettestorm has finally been repaired enough to be back online, and is wandering around in the Hollow trying to come to terms with what happened.
WHERE: The Hollow, Zone 6
WHEN: Now-ish.
WARNINGS/NOTES: Last time on Jetlet television, an emotionally imbalanced Soundwave attempted capturing the two jet twins
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There wasn't much in the Decepticon headquarters that Scorponok wasn't familiar with; his mental map of the place was pretty thorough, by now. Exploring wasn't very interesting, not really, and he would have much preferred to be out in the city streets...
But Blackout had said he wasn't allowed. Not after he'd gotten himself run over by a truck, anyway. And Scorponok had protested to Blackout that it wasn't fair that he be restricted like this--it wasn't his fault that that stupid mech had chased him!--but Blackout had insisted, and so Scorponok found himself confined to the Hollow. At least he was still allowed to run around ( ... )
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Which was bad, because Jetstorm was, right now, not particularly good at watching where he was going, or where he'd come from. It was much, much, much too important to just be getting out of here quickly, and without being noticed...
And without being pounced.
That last one didn't endure.
Jetstorm screeched in dismay as he was snatched, ready to unsheathe his wind-turbines, ready to call to brother for backup, ready to fight....
Only Scorp was bigger, and he had no wind turbines, and he still, still, had no brother.
He just...went slack.
This was too much to handle all at once.
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So chattering enthusiastically, he hoisted the unresisting little mech over his head and spun around, scurrying back down the tunnel. He headed for the main common room of the Hollow, knowing without even having to check that his host would be there. Blackout was always there, working on the portal. It was all he did anymore.
Scorponok thought it was boring, and made a big point of announcing his arrival loudly, chattering and broadcasting to his host strongly. Blackout looked up from his workstation near the portal, optics narrowing slightly at the interruption.
"What, Scorponok?" he asked neutrally, as if he hadn't noticed the content of his symbiont's communications, nor the burden in his claws.
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And found that he just was not caring, yet--especially when he realized he was detained by Scorp-bot. He should have been able to speak to the symbiont...but with his communicator being new and unfamiliar and not working like he expected it to, nothing he could send seemed to go through.
Everything was still wrong.
But then, there was Blackout, and he couldn't stay silent anymore, struggling against the claw that held him fast and glancing up...up...and more up.
"...Rotor-con! ...rotor-con, please be to helping me! Everything is being wrong, and am not being able to communicate with anyone, not..." He paused, really trying to squeeze out of Scorponok's grip. "...not even brother."
This last part came out almost too quietly, as he struggled to remember the last events before waking in Soundwave's room, everything feeling too magnetic and murky in his processor.
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He was on his way to grab a cube of energon from storage when he noticed someone in the tunnels he'd never seen before. Someone small... Curious, the jet wandered over behind the newcomer. It had wings... The clone's eyes flashed in the darkness- a new air warrior?
"Hello there, little flier~" he said with a grin.
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This was...not being good.
And now it was being worse.
He couldn't help taking a step back when he recognized the clone, worry evident on facial plates that shifted in unfamiliar ways to him.
"...D...Dirge! ...am...just...
..just trying to be finding a way out. To be...um. Flying. Can you be pointing me the right way?"
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"You... you're one of those jet twins. But you look like a..."
Dirge ground his dentals together suddenly. Soundwave, that fragging son of a glitch... he'd gone and done it. He'd actually reformatted them into cassettes and claimed them for himself. Oh no, that was not the way this was going to go down.
"Flying, hm? Then I hope you don't mind if I accompany you. You are under my command now," he said, crossing his arms.
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"Am only under my own command!" He shook his head, glaring in defiance. "...why are you thinking else-wise?"
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The only dilemma Soundwave recognized was the loss of his small jet's brother. The situation... was not preferable by any stretch, as it had certainly not been his plan to seperate them - An accident, brought on by the rashness of his actions.
In fact, he had yet to actually decipher the reasoning behind those actions.
True, it had been his intention to keep the two small jets safe from harm... But the process had simply not been logical, driven by some line of code that he couldn't seem to pinpoint. Even if he had wished to make them cassettes, the timing, the fact he'd allowed himself to be caught on the live feed... It was frustrating how much more frequently his emotions got the better of him - Even that frustration itself was troubling. The ( ... )
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But he didn't.
His stress was simple--the lack of brother, the lack of precise memories before waking up in the Hollow, the lack of his right body...it all was adding up, and propelling him onwards, hoping to find the exit.
It was a slow jog, though, because he wasn't being afraid. Not yet.
And someone was looking for him--that helped! He could tell, and it was...a...connection, not unlike Brother's, feeling like Brother's, and probably being Brother's...
So he sought it out, back-tracking along a corridor he barely remembered passing through...
And running face to foot with Soundwave.
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"Jetstorm."
He lowers himself to a knee, holding a large hand out to help steady the cassette.
"Status?"
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"...all systems are being normal..." He started to comply--
--and stopped, glancing up at Soundwave as he really, really realized where that Brother-feeling was coming from...
And instantly started backing off.
"...except that...that all systems are being wrong! You...you are to be doing something to me!" He shook his head, the fear starting to grow again.
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