semi-closed log | making an ImPact

[solarcharged]

WHO: Apollo and those he's discussed ImPact with (see note below)
WHERE: a private back room at the 'It's All Greek to Me' restaurant, Nonah
WHEN: a handwavey date in late March
WHAT: let's get this team on the road
WARNINGS: language!
( note: knowledge of this meeting is strictly limited to those that Apollo has personally invited following his post about an Unsettled team. If your character missed that post but would want to join then hit me up via plurk (fizzier) or discord (shaz#0911) and we'll figure out a way for them to have met and discussed it! )

[ The ‘It’s All Greek to Me’ bar and restaurant in Nonah is officially the most unlikely place for a gathering of would-be vigilantes, and yet here they are. Apollo knows the staff – he trusts the staff – and although he’s no longer general manager here he is still greeted as part of the family, even when dressed in his white and gold superhero uniform. It was the only place in the world that Apollo could trust to be the inaugural meeting place of team ImPact.

The little backroom that he’s hired for the night is private and secure – albeit not all that glamorous. Apollo dishes out enough money to the owner to make sure that they’re well looked after with drinks (and stuffed olives) despite the repeated insistence that it was all on the house. Apollo makes sure he's paid well all the same.

After a while, once everyone has arrived, Apollo gently chases Mr. Karakostas from the room and closes the door behind him with a grim smile. He pulls his Communicator from his pocket and places it on the table, clearly switched off. ]

Good evening everyone. Thanks for coming.

[ He pauses, surveying the room. ]

I’m going to be blunt – this is probably a terrible idea.

[ Is he joking? It’s hard to tell, what with the grin on his face. But there’s a pointed grimness to it and a hardened edge to his eyes that suggests, no, maybe he’s not entirely joking. ]

We’re not going to have the resources, the funding, the fancy headquarters or any of the legal protection that the other teams out there are going to have. There’s no paycheck to collect at the end of the day and no-one’s going to be giving us medals anytime soon. We’re on our own on this, but at least we’re on our own together. We’re just going to be doing this for the sake of knowing that we’re making a difference, regardless of whether this government is okay with that.

[ And yeah, maybe just to spite the world for exactly that reason. Apollo isn’t going to lie and say none of this is about making any kind of point or anything. ]

We’re going to get our hands dirty and deal with the consequences, whatever they are. Because there are two major threats out there – the OTO and Atropos – and I’m not going to sit by and not help defeat them just because it’s not technically “legal” for us to do so.

[ Yes, there were exaggerated airquotes around ‘legal’. Of course there were. ]

We’re not going to be popular with the government. But that’s not a reason to stop, right?

[ Because honestly? Apollo’s pretty sure that pissing off the government is a sign that they’re doing the right thing. ]

If you don’t agree then you’re welcome to leave right now. No hard feelings and thanks for coming anyway. But if you want to stay and help out then it’ll be good to have you -- Oh!

[ His face lights up as he remembers the most important part of this entire welcoming speech: ]

And we have a team name. ImPact. As in, imPorts who act.

[ GET IT? Yeah, he’s pleased with that one, as you can tell by the faintly radiant grin. ]

So, first order of business – introductions...


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( ooc: feel free to top level with introductions, plus anything else your character wants to say! Hijack, mingle, go mad, whatever )

Comments

end my suffering

[knaval]

[HE IS NOT WRONG, APOLLO]

Yeah, same. This isn't actually an ability I had back home. It's new here. I hate having skin.

--Buuuut, I don't fit anywhere, otherwise. Also! [he says, picking up a weird grape and throwing it at apollo.] Cybertronian. Robot is racist, thank you!

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo ducks the weird grape and purses his lips, if only to prevent himself from protesting that he said robot shaped. Even he knows that's probably not a winning argument. ]

Right. Sorry. Big punching Cybertronian shape.

[ He flicks the olive off the table and on to the floor with a tiny, dull plink</>. ]

What's so bad about skin?

[knaval]

Thank you.

[relaxing and leaning back again, riptide grunts.]

Hm. Greasy. Too soft. Feels too much. [he pinches some of the skin over his wrist and gives it a tug.] Too pliable.

[solarcharged]

Feels too much?

[ Okay, that bit has Apollo's curiosity. The rest of it... understandable, let's face it. Skin isn't exactly durable, especially next to whatever it is Riptide's original form is made out of. ]

How much could you feel before?

[knaval]

I don't-- I don't know. A normal amount!

[he grunts.]

Look, in my Cybertronian form I have eight senses. This one has... what, five? Five? How are you people even alive?! I can't even see into the other room... ugh. I think the feeling equivalent would be... I could feel with my bones inside my skin. But not my skin.

[riptide has a habit of saying things in the worst way.]

Also, being stabbed is fatal for humans, right? I got both my legs blown off once and it was a mild inconvenience.

[solarcharged]

Eight senses... [ Oh. Damn. That actually sounds pretty damn useful. Apollo is starting to see your point, Riptide. ] Yeah, being stabbed is a thing that kills humans, sure. But didn't having your legs blown off hurt?

[knaval]

Kinda? I mean... all my horrible maulings kind of blend together after a while. I guess... yes? Nothing I couldn't handle, though.

[he flexes. his bicep is tiny, because he is but a twunk.]

Honestly the worst part was dragging myself to a medibay.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo looks stricken. ]

Wait - how many 'horrible maulings' have you had, exactly?

[knaval]

Couple hundred times, I reckon. Why?

[solarcharged]

Jesus, Riptide.

[ THAT'S AWFUL ]

Although... [ Hm. ] When it's spread out across three million years, I suppose it's not that bad...

[ It still sounds pretty awful though! ]

[knaval]

[he shrugs, expression turning uncomfortable.]

I told you. I'm bottom of the barrel soldier. If anyone was gonna get mauled or die first, it would be the MTOs.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo doesn't look any more comfortable either, tbh ]

What's an MTO? [ He shakes his head softly, realising he should have asked sooner. ] I think you said it before, but I'm not sure I know what it means...

[knaval]

I guess if we're gonna be on a team then you can hear my tragic backstory...

[he leans back, tents his hands.]

About five hundred thousand years after the war started, there was a battle at Simanzi. That was to be the last battle on Cybertron before the planet became superheated, and you couldn't even walk on the surface without burning. It died after that. During Simanzi, there was something called the Forced Flood-- the guys we were fighting unleashed a huge maelstrom of destruction via an artificial ocean.

I was an MTO created to combat that, which is why I'm a boat. MTO means made to order. We were being pumped out to fight and die in the war and usually for one specific purpose. At the height of it all, MTO life expectancy was... not great. From thaw to war in under an hour, then you're pretty much guaranteed to die three minutes later.

[he shrugs.]

I got lucky. So did most of my team, but my first memory was watching my friend's head explode because he was deployed a couple metres to the right of me. In the path of a blaster fire.

[solarcharged]

Holy shit.

[ Apollo frowns sharply; as tragic backstories go, this was pretty fucking tragic indeed. He looks indignant on Riptide's behalf, like a very angry, offended sun god. ]

That's fucking awful.

[knaval]

[riptide just shrugs.]

It be that way sometimes.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo is SUPER blonde but even he knows that doesn't make any grammatical sense, Riptide. But grammar seems to be a small nitpick in the face of that... story... ]

Who's war was it? Who was in charge? [ Apollo's brow furrows deeper in indignant anger. ] Who the fuck thought it was okay to create disposable soldiers?

[knaval]

Our war. It was a civil war that got... out of hand.

[riptide just doesn't react to the anger at all. he shrugs.]

Both sides. When the people who were alive before it even started running out. We almost fought to extinction in Simanzi.

[he huffs.]

My full name is Riptide of Simanzian Dawn.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo's expression is thunderous but he remains silent, troubled as he is by the whole awful story. The carnage, the senseless waste of life. The idea of 'made to order' soldiers who should probably more accurately be called 'made to die'. ]

It's a nice name, [ Is all he says in the end. ]

The rest of it sounds pretty fucking terrible, though.

[ Considering Riptide is essentially named for the place he was meant to die. ]

[knaval]

No, it's not. People born normally are named after where they came out the ground. Pipes of Pescus Hex, Ratchet of Vaporex. MTOs are always named after their battles. Just a reminder that we were made with all the value of an object.

[he scowls.]

And a mass-produced, replaceable one at that.

[solarcharged]

[ Simanzi sounds nice is what he means, but Apollo isn't about to push the point. Not when this is as sore a topic as it obviously is. ]

Have you ever thought of renaming yourself? [ Apollo suggests, as if it was as easy as that. As if he had a real name that wasn't a codename. ] You could do that. Give yourself a name you're happier with.

[ Because it clearly is a thing Riptide isn't happy about. ]

[knaval]

It doesn't work like that. I don't want to talk about this anymore.

[he huffs.]

Right. Go. Your turn to overshare. Why are you a battery?

[solarcharged]

[ Yep okay fair enough. He's been TOLD. ]

Just your average mad science experiment gone right.

[ He smiles, sounding thoroughly unbothered by it all. ]

Don't ask me the actual science behind it, I'm as confused as everyone else is.

[knaval]

[he looks... a little disturbed for a moment.]

That's... something. I guess. Weird. You don't have a switch in your brain that'll make you go crazy and kill everyone, do you? That's usually what people who get turned into weapons have.

[solarcharged]

Not that I know of, no.

[ With a grunt he pulls himself to his feet and tries to dust off the worst of the dirt (there's a lot) from his uniform. Which is mostly in tatters, truth be told. ]

Then again... [ He straightens and looks off thoughtfully. ] I absolutely would not be surprised if Bendix did that to us.

[knaval]

[riptide just snorts.]

Well, if that happens at least we know I can kick your ass.