tell me a story//
v.2020 s.ART/LOGICAL INSANITY
• i'll explode your heart and melt your face
• ten years of nostalgia
• "how depressing, soundwave. here you need a hug"
• "where the frag is chronos"
☢
v.2020 s.FIC/HOW THE BOT WENT INSANE
Time moved so slowly when you had nothing to do. Nothing but a silence occasionally broken by the soft sound of footsteps, the random scream, clattering of metal against the floor as someone struggled, and almost silent mumblings of who knew what.
Torture. That was what this was for him. The silence was fine, he could revel in the silence; always calming, good for thought. Having nothing to do however, that was killing him inside. Having something to do was a requirement, it was not a well known fact, but Shockwave was someone that had to be kept busy. He had never been one for idle time, and now, in this place it was all he had. It was not productive, there was nothing being gained. Pointless all of it. Illogical. And he was stuck with it.
He supposed that was what happened when you got captured, unfortunately that it could not have been avoided; Shockwave had spent the first few breems hours going over that. Every logical conclusion lead back to this. This cage.
Every logical plan. Every logical idea. Every way out all lead back to cages or to death.
Death was not an option. Remaining in the cage until they saw fit to do away with him was not an option either. He was tired of calculating every plan only to logically find the outcome to be undesired. He wanted something that would get him out. But logic was giving him nothing.
And slag it all, he wanted some tea.
It had taken the government sometime to get him. To finally track him down and capture him. He had always been so careful, so cautious, always planning every possibility beforehand and working out a solution. Well. That couldn't last forever, he wasn't perfect. And even his logic had a weakness, one that they were quite happy to learn.
When faced with something too illogical or when all logical calculations end in his demise, he simply froze. Silently grasping at straws trying to figure something out, and of course there never is a logical conclusion. He does not allow himself to do illogical things, to act out in some primal rage to save himself. No. He remains utterly silent, trying to think of something, anything logical. Admittedly a very stupid thing to do, but that was how he'd been for millions of years.
Old habits die hard.
Everyday he would sit, curled up in a corner of the tiny cell, knees pressed up close to his chest. He rarely ever moved from that spot - there just wasn't much room to walk around, and somehow moving made things worse. Moving was irritable. Moving led to pacing due to the space, and that led to reminding him just how much of nothing he was doing. Doing nothing led to areas less logically inclined.
Still no way out. No powers in this box, with no idea what was going on outside of it. It would be preferable if he had at least one person to talk to. He didn't care who. Pathetic. He'd gone four million years completely alone on a dead at the time planet, and yet he was having trouble lasting a few days in this place. Of course, for those four million years he had science to do and things to study. He was busy then.
☢
The authorities could have never seen it coming. He had been labeled dangerous, simply due to what he had been doing with his time. The control over radiation didn't help. But the experimenting on people was what did it. Taking people off the street to experiment on usually left people illogically angry at you, for one reason or another. Still, he had his reasons. He had been studying the human body since he had been Ported into the City. From his experiments over the years, from his studying, he'd gotten very knowledgeable. If he got hurt, forget medics, he could fix himself. He knew how. It was logical to learn these things. A requirement.
So when he was finally taken out of the tiny cell to be moved, they had expected things to run smoothly. Logically he had no way out. They hadn't expected him to snap. They weren't aware of his past, how by all technicalities he'd already been completely insane the minute he arrived in the City. Logic just did wonders with covering that fact up.
"Frag this!"
Followed by a rather emotionless, hollow, and cold monotone laugh was enough to clue them in.
It was a bit too late for them at that point. He let his logic slip away for the moment, for once letting himself indulge in that growing insanity stored away in the back of his mind.
He managed his escape. Not a logical one, but it worked. Forcing him back on the run again.
He's in a balancing act with his logic and insanity. But. First things first. Find a way to function at maximum with very little to no sleep.
• i'll explode your heart and melt your face
• ten years of nostalgia
• "how depressing, soundwave. here you need a hug"
• "where the frag is chronos"
☢
v.2020 s.FIC/HOW THE BOT WENT INSANE
Time moved so slowly when you had nothing to do. Nothing but a silence occasionally broken by the soft sound of footsteps, the random scream, clattering of metal against the floor as someone struggled, and almost silent mumblings of who knew what.
Torture. That was what this was for him. The silence was fine, he could revel in the silence; always calming, good for thought. Having nothing to do however, that was killing him inside. Having something to do was a requirement, it was not a well known fact, but Shockwave was someone that had to be kept busy. He had never been one for idle time, and now, in this place it was all he had. It was not productive, there was nothing being gained. Pointless all of it. Illogical. And he was stuck with it.
He supposed that was what happened when you got captured, unfortunately that it could not have been avoided; Shockwave had spent the first few breems hours going over that. Every logical conclusion lead back to this. This cage.
Every logical plan. Every logical idea. Every way out all lead back to cages or to death.
Death was not an option. Remaining in the cage until they saw fit to do away with him was not an option either. He was tired of calculating every plan only to logically find the outcome to be undesired. He wanted something that would get him out. But logic was giving him nothing.
And slag it all, he wanted some tea.
It had taken the government sometime to get him. To finally track him down and capture him. He had always been so careful, so cautious, always planning every possibility beforehand and working out a solution. Well. That couldn't last forever, he wasn't perfect. And even his logic had a weakness, one that they were quite happy to learn.
When faced with something too illogical or when all logical calculations end in his demise, he simply froze. Silently grasping at straws trying to figure something out, and of course there never is a logical conclusion. He does not allow himself to do illogical things, to act out in some primal rage to save himself. No. He remains utterly silent, trying to think of something, anything logical. Admittedly a very stupid thing to do, but that was how he'd been for millions of years.
Old habits die hard.
Everyday he would sit, curled up in a corner of the tiny cell, knees pressed up close to his chest. He rarely ever moved from that spot - there just wasn't much room to walk around, and somehow moving made things worse. Moving was irritable. Moving led to pacing due to the space, and that led to reminding him just how much of nothing he was doing. Doing nothing led to areas less logically inclined.
Still no way out. No powers in this box, with no idea what was going on outside of it. It would be preferable if he had at least one person to talk to. He didn't care who. Pathetic. He'd gone four million years completely alone on a dead at the time planet, and yet he was having trouble lasting a few days in this place. Of course, for those four million years he had science to do and things to study. He was busy then.
☢
The authorities could have never seen it coming. He had been labeled dangerous, simply due to what he had been doing with his time. The control over radiation didn't help. But the experimenting on people was what did it. Taking people off the street to experiment on usually left people illogically angry at you, for one reason or another. Still, he had his reasons. He had been studying the human body since he had been Ported into the City. From his experiments over the years, from his studying, he'd gotten very knowledgeable. If he got hurt, forget medics, he could fix himself. He knew how. It was logical to learn these things. A requirement.
So when he was finally taken out of the tiny cell to be moved, they had expected things to run smoothly. Logically he had no way out. They hadn't expected him to snap. They weren't aware of his past, how by all technicalities he'd already been completely insane the minute he arrived in the City. Logic just did wonders with covering that fact up.
"Frag this!"
Followed by a rather emotionless, hollow, and cold monotone laugh was enough to clue them in.
It was a bit too late for them at that point. He let his logic slip away for the moment, for once letting himself indulge in that growing insanity stored away in the back of his mind.
He managed his escape. Not a logical one, but it worked. Forcing him back on the run again.
He's in a balancing act with his logic and insanity. But. First things first. Find a way to function at maximum with very little to no sleep.