Post by catgriff on Mar 21, 2013 22:43:46 GMT -5
Sand. It was the first though that went through his processor. Ironically enough it was the last he thing he remembered before he went into stasis. There was a sandstorm. He was out looking with his armada of seekers for any remaining Autobots after the Decepticons destroyed their base when this freak storm came out of no where. Visibility was zero and was calling back into base to say he was returning when everything went black.
Did he crash? He sure if had that he wouldn't still be online right now. He tried to transform, but nothing happen. Oh no. Okay can't panic yet. the seeker tried to move and had success of lifting his helm from the pile of sand he was laying in. Or dune. Where in the Pit was he?
Starscream stood up on shaky legs and looked about. Rolling mountains of sand as far as the optic can see. This wasn't Nevada that was for sure. This looked like the Arabian or Sahara deserts he had heard about when they explored Earth's many varying climates. But how did he end up here? He couldn't have been blown off that far of course! Those deserts where on the other side of the planet than where he originally was. Also something else was wrong. He felt funny and... small. Perhaps it was just the massive sand dunes giving the illusion that he had shrunk.
He tried to transform again except this time to alt jet mode. Again nothing happen. Primus! Did he lose his T-Cog again?! Oh he'll make those humans pay for getting their nasty little hands on him again. He looked down at himself now to see if anymore damage was done. His processor froze.
He wasn't looking at his normal, silver frame with his long talons in front of him. He saw hands. Not servos that were normally there. HUMAN HANDS and they were black gloved ones. He flex them to make sure they were his and broke out into hysterical, high pitch screaming. It would be muffled to anyone else there for he had pilot's helmet on. He didn't realized this for he had deafen himself with his own shrieks which only sent into a frenzy panic. Suddenly he was claustrophobic and the urge to get his helm free of whatever was covering it became he sole priority. He scrambled for a bit, fingers fumbled about the foreign object before Starscream finally manage to pry the helmet off. He threw it to the ground and stumbled away from it as his screams had now ebbed to whimpers and heavy breathing. He just stood there dazed not able to comprehend much for he was on sensory overload. Too many new sensations at once. Air filling lungs, his mouth drying as he took in those greedy breaths, sand bouncing off of his soft cheek, the slight tug at the top of his helm from the wind, and his optics NEEDING to blink.
"Wh-what happened to me? Why-how?" The former mech felt his peds give out and he fell backwards in a sitting position as he stared at his....hands. Human hands. Was this a dream? Was he in recharge? This almost to vivid for a dream but it was the only thing logical right now. Perhaps he was in the med bay right now and this was a horrid hallucination his damaged processors came up with. But everything was in such detail and these new sensations. They were so alien how could he come up with this on his own? He clenched his hands still absorbing his predicament and hoping the pain from squeezing too hard would wake him up.
Did he crash? He sure if had that he wouldn't still be online right now. He tried to transform, but nothing happen. Oh no. Okay can't panic yet. the seeker tried to move and had success of lifting his helm from the pile of sand he was laying in. Or dune. Where in the Pit was he?
Starscream stood up on shaky legs and looked about. Rolling mountains of sand as far as the optic can see. This wasn't Nevada that was for sure. This looked like the Arabian or Sahara deserts he had heard about when they explored Earth's many varying climates. But how did he end up here? He couldn't have been blown off that far of course! Those deserts where on the other side of the planet than where he originally was. Also something else was wrong. He felt funny and... small. Perhaps it was just the massive sand dunes giving the illusion that he had shrunk.
He tried to transform again except this time to alt jet mode. Again nothing happen. Primus! Did he lose his T-Cog again?! Oh he'll make those humans pay for getting their nasty little hands on him again. He looked down at himself now to see if anymore damage was done. His processor froze.
He wasn't looking at his normal, silver frame with his long talons in front of him. He saw hands. Not servos that were normally there. HUMAN HANDS and they were black gloved ones. He flex them to make sure they were his and broke out into hysterical, high pitch screaming. It would be muffled to anyone else there for he had pilot's helmet on. He didn't realized this for he had deafen himself with his own shrieks which only sent into a frenzy panic. Suddenly he was claustrophobic and the urge to get his helm free of whatever was covering it became he sole priority. He scrambled for a bit, fingers fumbled about the foreign object before Starscream finally manage to pry the helmet off. He threw it to the ground and stumbled away from it as his screams had now ebbed to whimpers and heavy breathing. He just stood there dazed not able to comprehend much for he was on sensory overload. Too many new sensations at once. Air filling lungs, his mouth drying as he took in those greedy breaths, sand bouncing off of his soft cheek, the slight tug at the top of his helm from the wind, and his optics NEEDING to blink.
"Wh-what happened to me? Why-how?" The former mech felt his peds give out and he fell backwards in a sitting position as he stared at his....hands. Human hands. Was this a dream? Was he in recharge? This almost to vivid for a dream but it was the only thing logical right now. Perhaps he was in the med bay right now and this was a horrid hallucination his damaged processors came up with. But everything was in such detail and these new sensations. They were so alien how could he come up with this on his own? He clenched his hands still absorbing his predicament and hoping the pain from squeezing too hard would wake him up.