From Transformers: Lost and Found
Revision as of 02:56, 20 May 2018 by Tez
|Summary||Soundwave combs the wreckage.|
Soundwave is known for sulking- any of his cassettes can testify to this fact. But that is not the case today. Knocked out of his own reverie of misery, he pulled himself into a frenzied fury. He drove out of the Machine Room and Tempo and hasn't stopped going since. He's clipped corners, probably ran someone off a road or two, and kept driving right past the city limits of both New Iacon and Tempo. While he drives, he compiles report upon report. Filing things remotely and declining comms from anyone and everyone. He leaves himself to do work, not giving himself a moment of emptiness or stillness. He can't stop, so he keeps going, keeps busy.
Its after several hours of testing the limits of his accelerator that he comes to a harsh stop, leaving skids against the ground of Cybertron. Or, well, the metal of this new Cybertron because it feels and looks a little more... Unicron-y here. Soundwave transforms, surveying and scanning his surroundings. He doesn't stand there long, quickly taking off in some direction to find some of hatch or ravine. Anything that leads downward.
This is one of the first places where Unicron and Cybertron have begun to join, while the two planets wrap around one another still farther distant. It will take days -- weeks -- for Unicron and Cybertron to settle in their new form, but already Soundwave can see a gleam of fresh energon seams bright against the silver-dark of the scarred surface.
Where the joint is not yet complete, there's a jagged gouge that carves beyond sight or scans into the black interior of the worlds. It might be possible to jump from ledge to ledge, to climb, but that would be terribly foolish, without know where it goes. No one would be that foolish.
Soundwave is no fool. But someone taught him a thing or two about being foolish.
He jumps right in.
Using his cables and hands, he grasps at handles along the walls to get to the ledges. Its impossible to tell how far down or where, exactly, this gouge leads but Soundwave doesn't stop to think about. He just does. Jump, grab onto something or land on a ledge, look to the next thing to jump to, and repeat. Its all very methodical, if not very dangerous. Especially as the light of the surface begins to fade, leaving his visor and biolights to help him out.
As Soundwave plunges deep into the newly reformed planet's core, he quickly passes the familiar. There are places here where the metal is as old and as black as space, and other places where it has been scraped bright and raw and shining. He falls until he can fall no farther -- and then, moving, he finds another chasm, and dives deeper yet.
It's there that Soundwave begins to see signs of Unicron's drones again: inactive, on standby, by swarmed thick on the ground or clinging to the walls of narrow passages to either side. There are more and more signs of movement as he draws toward the core: here, at the heart, the planets strive to find a new balance with one another.
There are no more chasms. There is only the ground beneath Soundwave's feet, the shifting walls around him, and a familiar and unwelcome presence almost lost under the thunderous power of Unicron's spark and Vector Sigma's heart, down one of those passages. Together.
Vents cycling laboriously from the trip down here, Soundwave walks through the bottom of this chasm. He counts every worm he passes, keeping a mental tally as he goes. He stops, only briefly, at the opening of one of the passages. Imaginary hackles raise as he feels that presence, filling him with hesitation.
But Soundwave squashes it with a tight grasp of his fists and marches forward. To what has his senses ringing, tentacles both hovering close to his body.
The passage closes behind Soundwave, only to tear itself open again, as everything around him is in a state of flux. The floor rises to meet his feet, then falls away again in the next step. Each step forward is hard won.
At the center of all of this chaos lies the remade core. Vector Sigma's chamber is banded side by side with Unicron's central spark chamber, and the doors that lead within the joined chambers are irised wide. The chamber is many times larger than Soundwave remembers, and within, the two massive sparks orbit a single point in a complicated dance. The sparks sing harmony and counterpoint, unified in one song for the first time in a very long time.
The Matrix, glowing in reflected power, shines brilliantly in the otherwise empty chamber. There are at most smudges of ash on the floor where familiar feet may have stood.
Soundwave doesn't think about there being no ground where his foot lands. It takes monumental effort not to think about that and, instead, focuses on what he hears. It helps water down his fear by deafening it. And beyond that is a faint, flickering hope. He holds onto it, listening beyond two presences more powerful and immense than he can imagine. Listening for just a glimmer, just a note, that he missed after Tempo fired. He's been wrong before.
Soundwave looks from the sparks that seem to press against him and then to the broader, massive chamber around him. At one point, he might have paused to examine the workings of the wall and floor, search for a pattern. Maybe be in awe. But he's only got one goal in mind: Prove himself wrong. He looks past all the impressiveness and his optic lock onto the Matrix... And slowly rove over to faint remain of ashes.
He stares... And then shakes his head. It could be anything! The rest of this place looks fine- Unicron's spark is fine! There can't be nothing-- Soundwave keeps looking, keeps listening. He has to be here. Or, at least, his body.
There is only the Matrix, lying on the ground, shining up at Soundwave. There's an itch at the back of his mind, an urge to pick it up.
Soundwave looks and looks and listens and listens. But there's nothing. Nothing but the massive god-like cores at the center of this chamber.
And the Matrix.
Soundwave returns to gazing at the Matrix, feeling it prickle along the back of his mind. His engine rumbles... Then growls with an angry rev. A tentacle slithers through the air to grab it. Fine, it wants to be picked up? FINE! He'll pick it up. He turns on his heel, trying to think through where Unicron's smelters are.
Smelters, smelters. Smelters. Soundwave ... isn't sure where there might be. Everything has changed, shuffled, reshaped itself. Smelters? Who knows. He's distracted by the way the Matrix feels in his tentacles, by the sound of it: not a match to Rodimus, but a rhyme.
Soundwave vents, irritated. One would think the smelters of Unicron would be easy to track but... He can't detect them. His tentacle slinks back with its prize and he hangs his head, visor dim. No body, not of any of them. Yet this useless, stupid think is practically undamaged... He almost throws it across the chamber but he can't quite seem to be able to release it.
He looks down at the Matrix, feeling the hum run through the length of the cable. A pale imitation. "I hate you," he tells it- great! Now he's talking to it. He glowers at it and, as he does, a memory file surfaces. "Most of you," he corrects, vocalizer crackling and catching at the words. He just wants to lay down and-- no, he can't. Can't slow down for a second.
"What am I going to do with you?" He could hide it, no one ever has to know. He could give it to Orion. He could take it to space and jettison it. Soundwave always wanted to do that. (edited)
Soundwave could do any or all of those things. It's his choice. But there's a reluctance, still, to release it, and as he holds it -- the longer he holds it -- there's the softest, gentlest balm on his spark. It's nothing as heavy handed as a pat on the shoulder, but rather it's the comfort of a quiet where there is no one to see. Holding the Matrix makes it easier for Soundwave to stand against the pressure of Unicron and Cybertron so close, but it's still intensely uncomfortable for him to linger here. There is nothing here for him, other than that which he carries.
There's a certain point that Soundwave can't handle looking at the Matrix anymore, even as it attempts to soothe him. "This doesn't mean anything. You may consider yourself lucky that I have several appointments to make and keep up and a long way back to New Iacon," he tells the Matrix. Tells. Hnf.
Soundwave's dock opens and-- "If you do anything, I will crush you beneath my heel."-- he adds before placing it in his chassis. He totally means it too. With one last glance to the smudge on the ground, and then turns to leave. He'll count the worms on his way out too.