Post by Airwatcher on Aug 16, 2020 21:50:36 GMT
( @oracle )
A rumble of thunder echoed throughout the mighty tomstones. The graveyard was oriented like a computer’s garden; smaller and less relevant parts centering around great and remembered pieces. The pathways were that of a circuit, angling between the smallest ten-foot metal slabs all the ways to the grand 70 foot shrines or 100 foot statues of warriors long since past. From a birds eye view any could see the graveyard resembled a fractured decepticon insignia. A two wheeler walked among the smaller sets of stones as quietly as he could. His engines yet revved and wheezed as he tried to keep them from causing too much a ruckus. His endeavors were night fruitless as anxiety took seed in his spark. A light 3 foot high mist clouded the walkways, as if ghosts of the past had manifested to linger on a few hours longer. Airwatcher cleared his throat as he searched for names. Converting ancient cybertronian to english is such a pain. Airwatcher walked the same alley a second time. Being the such a ghastly place caused him a hesitance his processor normally aborted.
This was a bad short-cut. Airwatcher looked left to right. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the dead did not rest. While he fundamentally believed it was impossible for the dead to live without dark energon, it was as if the steel itself was displeased with the cause of its existence. A small blog on his HUD display stated the countless sarcophagi had been erected from he remains of Decepticon warships, and that for each of the countless slabs four to seven deceptions warriors lay to save on space. Eeegh. He almost flinched at the thought. He continued to walk through the alleyways of the almost labyrinthine tombstone alleyways, his helm sometimes barely peaking over the sides, and other times being completely enshrouded in black. Every now and again he came across a wreath of flowers with a specific name etched beside them. Graffiti clustered in patches like weeds disturbing a peaceful bed. Finally he came into the open, his green visor and biolights his only lantern in the resting place. He halted by a titan statue of solid iron boasting roughly 120 feet. Any distinct features the mech had were eroded and weathered away by rain and dust-storm alike. Airwatcher gazed upward at the ominous statue that seemed to gaze downward upon the collection of the dead.
“They couldn’t have made you more spooky could they?”
A rumble of thunder echoed throughout the mighty tomstones. The graveyard was oriented like a computer’s garden; smaller and less relevant parts centering around great and remembered pieces. The pathways were that of a circuit, angling between the smallest ten-foot metal slabs all the ways to the grand 70 foot shrines or 100 foot statues of warriors long since past. From a birds eye view any could see the graveyard resembled a fractured decepticon insignia. A two wheeler walked among the smaller sets of stones as quietly as he could. His engines yet revved and wheezed as he tried to keep them from causing too much a ruckus. His endeavors were night fruitless as anxiety took seed in his spark. A light 3 foot high mist clouded the walkways, as if ghosts of the past had manifested to linger on a few hours longer. Airwatcher cleared his throat as he searched for names. Converting ancient cybertronian to english is such a pain. Airwatcher walked the same alley a second time. Being the such a ghastly place caused him a hesitance his processor normally aborted.
This was a bad short-cut. Airwatcher looked left to right. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the dead did not rest. While he fundamentally believed it was impossible for the dead to live without dark energon, it was as if the steel itself was displeased with the cause of its existence. A small blog on his HUD display stated the countless sarcophagi had been erected from he remains of Decepticon warships, and that for each of the countless slabs four to seven deceptions warriors lay to save on space. Eeegh. He almost flinched at the thought. He continued to walk through the alleyways of the almost labyrinthine tombstone alleyways, his helm sometimes barely peaking over the sides, and other times being completely enshrouded in black. Every now and again he came across a wreath of flowers with a specific name etched beside them. Graffiti clustered in patches like weeds disturbing a peaceful bed. Finally he came into the open, his green visor and biolights his only lantern in the resting place. He halted by a titan statue of solid iron boasting roughly 120 feet. Any distinct features the mech had were eroded and weathered away by rain and dust-storm alike. Airwatcher gazed upward at the ominous statue that seemed to gaze downward upon the collection of the dead.
“They couldn’t have made you more spooky could they?”