Anachropolis

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Phorpus, Apr 5, 2007.

  1. Phorpus

    Phorpus RHco.

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    NOTE: This isn't the entirety of the first chapter, I wanted to see if this was going the right direction so I wanted some frank advice first.

    Chapter 1 - Roll Call

    The ground was rough, but not sand, it slipped through his fingers like dust but scraped and scratched like steel. His eyes adjusted to the sky above him as his health specifications kept alerting him of his immediate danger to shutting down again. The sky was blue with smog, this wasn't like earth, whose blue skies were only the background for puffs of clouds, the blue was a swirling velvet of smoke that, when parted, revealed the bleak black space behind. He turned his head sideways to see where he was only to hear his equilibrium bearings rattle from left to right as his vision faded in and out from static. But doing so he saw a body twitching at his far left, its wings broken and dead on the ground. To his right was the horizon, lined with green trees and murky shadows. He tried to lift himself by positioning his elbows to the ground and heaving upwards but his joints crackled and spun and ground to a halt as he fell back down. His optics went blank as a basic readout of his health lined the left table of his vision.

    "Power...96%...damage...bad..."

    He tried to keep his consciousness by reading aloud his health but it only reminded him more of his odd situation. His legs felt like piles of dead animals were pressing down on them, oil drooling and forming a neat round puddle at his ankles. His equilibrium went out again and suddenly the world went spinning like his head was a top and he blacked out, with the image of the blue fog on his image reader before a thin line closed his vision.

    ---

    His repair dock began roaming about aimlessly after rebuilding itself, searching like a dog with broken legs for its owner. The wheels crushed the steel sand in its gears and left no particles in the air like normal dust would. The ladder probe blindly stabbed at the dark, meeting only piles of sand and the empty space of air in front of it. The entirety of the repair bay consisted of a radar ladder and an array of guns and tools, with a single recharge port near the front, but at the moment the entirety of the bay was a charred husk of metal that fumed pillars of smoke in its wake. It kept punching into the ground, carefully mapping each pound in its memory, making a primitive digital map of the area. The inner mechanics made an organized series of clicks and kachunks as it kept moving, with a tiny pop of pressure released every time it reached out with its ladder to feel around the environment. It felt a shard of metal and became excited, feeling about frantically in the hopes of finding something other than a void, and with one last pop of pressure it landed on the chest of its owner, with a gear or two breaking loose inside and leaving it immobile.

    He regained sight long enough to see his repair bay's ladder arm resting gently and lifeless on his chest, and tilted his head sideways to the left to see it leaking with smoke. He then lost his equilibrium again and faded back into stasis as he heard erratic footseps behind the corpse of his repair station, the anonymous character's wings spreading wide and retracting with a groggy stretch.

    ---

    "Scrape...scrape...scrape..."

    He looked up at the winged figure dragging him from his arm, his legs crackling on the ground like sandpaper on velcro. The world faded in and out as his focus zoomed and widened, the entire world changing shape as he tried to see where he was. He glanced at his health specifications to see that his internal repairs were past the halfway point but his T-Cog was imploded. He tried to see if he could move his hands but felt like he was grabbing into air, his hands still dead on the ground with a scrape. Off in the distance was a wavering line of deep smoke from his repair bay, which sat like a shamed dog on a slanted hill.

    He looked up at his holder, with a rackety-clink of his internal bearings tinkling out of his head and into his neck. From what he could see through his smoggy marshmallow vision was a cloud of black and purple, almost a demon in its shape, its wings folded inward with the look of waiting vipers. His feet were like the split mouths of crocodiles, serrated teeth gripping into the dust with each step and kicking backwards into his face. The demon's figure was entirely dark but three features were clearly seen in his vision, a crimson diamond between the wings, and, under it, two eyes beaming with blood and sheen. Between the crunching footseps of the open mouths he could see that they were almost over the peak of a hill, seen by the angle of the steps and the rattling of his loose chips splintering to his feet. His vision seemed to be getting worse as the sky turned from clouds to gravy and the dark figure from a demon to a empty void. An empty void that looked down on him with through two red eyes.
     
  2. DaraRex2.0

    DaraRex2.0 I'd totally eat the leaf

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    I like your writing style and your eye for detail :thumb 
     

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