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Characters:Hypnos, @tarn Location: The Nemesis's Data Center Content Warnings: N/A Plot Summary: A pair of musical connoisseurs meet aboard the Nemesis.
"DISENGAGE. RETREAT ACCORDING TO ENGAGEMENT OF LEVEL 5 SUB-PROTOCOLS. AWAIT ARRIVAL OF SUITABLE COUNTER-ASSET."
Hypnos removed her claw from the red transmit button on the console. Only a day back in Decepticon custody and she'd already been hard at work. There was a Vehicon patrol currently being thrashed by an over-sized Autobot incursion somewhere in Greece, so Hypnos did what she was conditioned to do, and gave them the proper protocols to allow a more suitable Decepticon to take the reigns. It didn't even matter. The sounds of each of the patrol member's transmitters went offline one by one. The problem would soon resolve itself now that the counter-asset was in play, so Hypnos stepped over to the second station.
"SUBSPACE CONTACTS, DETECTED. PRIORITIZE SEARCH AND RECOVERY OF TERRESTRIAL CONTACT. BEGINNING SENSOR SWEEP OF LUNAR CONTACT."
She switched off the channel, not needing to advise the situation any further. Search and rescue operations normally had lower mortality rates, anyway. Next came the laborious task of getting up to speed on current and past events; Megatron had been incredibly busy in the past few decades. Decepticon death rates were fifteen percent higher than when she'd been stranded.
Then her infiltration protocols came up on the docket. Hypnos was terribly behind schedule, no thanks to Playback's negligence towards locating her. Planet Earth had changed almost as much as the Decepticons had, so it went without saying that there were a few pieces of information that needed updating.
::ENGLISH... COMPLETE::
Hypnos hadn't had the time to get a handle on all of Earth's languages before she'd crashed. Modern Russian was the only language she'd known, until now.
::SPANISH... COMPLETE::
::KOREAN... COMPLETE::
::CHINESE... COMPLETE::
::ARABIC... COMPLETE::
She went on for another twenty minutes, downloading a functional lexicon of virtually every language currently being spoken on Earth. All the while she'd been filing logistics reports to factor in the loss of ten more Vehicons, and subsequently filed requests to replace them as quickly as possible.
The monotony of managing field reports, data handshakes and other boring and spark-crushing tasks wouldn't have been suitable for anyone else, she thought. Hypnos couldn't have imagined how inefficient the Decepticon data structure had been in her absence, because she was looking it over in the meantime. Her mind stretched, her attention subdividing several times to accommodate the additional data streams. In the information bliss, she began to unconsciously recite one of her favorite performances.
She'd performed it several times in Kalis, Iacon and Praxus, but this recording in particular held a special place next to her spark. Hypnos had performed the lead vocals under a different name at the time. It was The Empyrean Suite, after all.
The heavy boom, boom, boom of a large mech’s pedefalls preceded Tarn as he stalked down the halls of the Nemesis. Gears whirred and pistons hissed with every step he took, hailing the effort of the mechanics responsible for his movement. The prisoner had escaped. The half-organic creature whose spark he’d so easily toyed with. But…at least they’d gained another. A true Autobot this time, a wrecker who might have intelligence…
He paused suddenly, mechanics whirring to a halt. Was that…? Yes. There was no way he could mistake those strains. He may have played it to death, but, something about hearing it unexpectedly caused his spark to give an odd sort of flutter he hadn’t known it capable of any longer. Beautiful.
Almost involuntarily, he turned down a hall, following the sound. The Empyrean Suite, his ‘theme song’, the most beautiful piece of music claimed by the Decepticon faction. Someone else was playing it. How lovely. Another music lover? Or someone who was feeling particularly patriotic? Either way, Tarn had a feeling his day was about to look up. His processor was effectively pulled from the thinking he’d been engaged in.
He came to a halt just within the comm center, where missions were monitored by those on board. He looked about briefly, malevolent red optics sweeping the room. Then, he found her.
Such a voice. Such a selection. How long had it been since he’d heard the Empyrean Suit performed as such? Sung by a living entity, not played back through a recording?
Tarn approached the femme, optics fixed on her, head cocked curiously. He paused, a distance away, knowing full well the usual reactions his presence caused. He wasn’t looking to elicit such a reaction now. He didn’t want to interrupt either. He wanted very much for her to continue until the song’s end
Hypnos knew the feeling of a set of heavy footfalls behind her, but since the intruder hadn't seen fit to interrupt her song, she continued on. In fact, now that she was fully aware she had an audience, the Decepticon started to get into it even more. It all began to come flooding back. The pageantry, the regalia, the taste of high society at it's peak. None of it had an effect on Hypnos, not any more. It simply served as a holdover from another life, a memento from an unimportant time.
Yet it continued; the build up. She still loved it, after all these years. All this time stewing away in a forgotten compound buried in the Siberian wastelands had brewed a yearning to break free in more than one way. Like a burning sensation in the back of her head, Hypnos could bear it no longer. She had absolutely no idea who was standing behind her listening, but at this point it hardly mattered at all. She would have laughed it were Megatron, though.
Each of the three data feeds switched off simultaneously, in tandem with a dip in the orchestra. Hypnos braced herself on the console in front of her, in preparation. Mimicking a full sixteen piece orchestra including vocals, her nimble form sprang backwards with all the grace of a dancer sailing through the air. Just as the entire orchestra reached their long-awaited crescendo she slid her servos around both of Tarn's hands, recognizing that she was about to tangle with the leader of the DJD. Dauntless as always, she relished the challenge.
She began to dance to the music, as one would do at a proper ball. Hypnos led Tarn in the display, fully immersed in the power of the song. It was liberating for a small part of her, not to mention it served as an effective way to free herself from the monotony of her work. She only wondered what his reaction would be once she completed her set.
A sort of satisfaction welled within the executioner as he realized that the singer was giving him a performance. No longer was it just an idle rendition of a song. This was like a taste of the days long past, those times when the Decepticons had ruled entire cities and statues of their leader were erected. When he was an up-and-coming officer, before he'd been handpicked to become what he was. When pomp still mattered. But, this made it no less beautiful.
As was the sheer amount of fearlessness the femme displayed when she all but leaped into his arms.
Few had the courage to touch him so casually. Even those in the DJD rarely did so. But she...as her servos slid into his, he felt something of a thrill go through him. He'd found a dancing partner, it seemed. By the Allspark, how long had it been since he'd danced? There was no way she didn't recognize him. And yet, here she was, completely disregarding the fact that the hands she now so willingly pulled closer were designed to rend traitorous Decepticons apart. Did she receive a jolt of excitement from being bold?
He humored her, following her lead in the dance, his optics fixed on her faceplates. Or lack thereof. Empurata, then. He could remember his own procedure. How the senate had robbed him of his face. His hands. Though, it seemed that she had regained hers. For that he was glad. How else would she lead him so well in this dance.
As the song began to slow, so did he. Then, it was gone, and, already, he missed the sound.
"A rousing performance. I must say, it has been some time since I was so privileged as to hear the Suite as it was truly meant to be performed, and not by recording alone."
The song ended, having been played through in full. Hypnos was left in the arms of the commander of the DJD himself. Not the kind of audience she'd expected, but quite the impressive dance partner nevertheless. It was only when it was all over did she truly appreciate cutting loose and performing again. It was bittersweet, all things considered. Maybe she'd get to perform in front of a proper crowd again one day.
She found his words to be unusually flattering. Being complimented by Tarn was like being praised by a walking nightmare. She absolutely loved it. Oddly enough, Hypnos still found her hands clasped with her dance partner's. "It's been a while since I've performed it for a live audience, but back then I simply did the vocals."
She remembered Harmonex, Iacon and Kalis. The long nights spent entertaining the masses. What a fool she'd been.
"You're not that bad of a dancer, though I'd put some effort into making sure your pedes don't crush my talons."
Hypnos waited.
"I've always been curious about your singing voice, however. The results are quite enjoyable to watch."
Tarn chuckled, a deep rumble from behind his mask. A compliment. How long had it been since he'd had a genuine one paid to him? He inclined his head to her, still not releasing her servos. He saw no reason to quite yet.
"Indeed. I shall be more careful should another opportunity arise. I don't believe I've danced since the Decepticon Empire was at its height."
It was as she mentioned his voice that his servos uncurled from hers. Dark amusement flashed through him. Of course she was curious. So many were. But, it was the mention of the results that caught his attention.
"Oh? Have you seen my work before?"
The ruined, empty frames of those whose sparks could no longer stand the sound of his voice as it worked over them. Who had died in terror as their bodies slowly froze.
"I would be happy to give a demonstration, if you are so inclined. But, I doubt that you are looking for it to be performed upon yourself."
It was almost a joke. At least, it seemed it was from the amusement backing it.
Curse the Empurata, forbidding her from smiling along.
"Part of me is a logistician. It's my responsibility to catalog all the death."
It was true after all. While her duties normally consisted of disrupting communications, it occasionally fell to her to mark up just about everything that died around the Decepticons. It was a daunting task not suited for bots of a lighter spark. Hypnos simply enjoyed reading the numbers as they scrolled across her screen.
Then he hit her with the proposal, which she took very seriously. Hypnos was genuinely curious, to be fair.
"Oh, please do. You're not the only Decepticon with a special voice, in this room at least. I'm curious to know what it feels like."
He knew that keeping up with the DJD alone, as was Kaon's job as Listkeeper, could be annoyingly mundane. To document every occurrence?
The thought was gone quickly, driven away by the excitement that she had accepted his proposal. Not the only one with a special voice? Such a surprising femme. She continued to intrigue him further with each passing moment. He nodded once.
"Very well, if you are willing. I confess I do not use my voice to sing...but, it is effective nonetheless," he continued to speak, allowing his outlier ability to seep into his voice. He targeted the joints in her servos and arms, specifically, aiming to cause them to stiffen and then freeze. Detectable, but by no means permanently damaging, "You have piqued my curiosity. I can't say that for many who are outside the List. Then again, I don't often mingle. But...for someone so appreciative of music, an exception had to be made. Such a lovely voice singing the Empyrean Suite. And so skillfully. I was nearly beside myself."
He observed her as he spoke, arms hanging loose at his sides, shoulders rolled back and stance authoritative as ever.
"I won't be aiming for your spark, my dear. That, I'm afraid, is reserved for those special bots who find themselves on our List."
Hypnos listened as Tarn spoke. His was a voice that could curdle energon and freeze steel, one that had brought pain and destruction to those who betrayed Megatron. She loved it. Instead of freezing in place as was intended, several fins and plates atop her head began to open slowly as Tarn went on. Her one large optic gradually shrank to the size of a speck on a screen by the time he was done, all the while a low, dull barely-audible tone emitted from her vocal components.
Then he asked how it had felt. Her optic grew back to full size, the tone ceased, and her head returned to it's normal configuration. How had it felt? Hypnos had felt the voice attempting to hit a frequency that would lock her motivators in place; it was an enthralling sensation, though not one her body and spark yielded to.
She was unaffected.
"You have an excellent speaking voice, but I'm afraid it's effects are lost on me."
Tarn had watched at her optic contracted and her body reacted in other, subtle ways. Fascinating. Never had he met anyone who demonstrated this sort of immunity to his power. It seemed that she had actually derived a sort of comfort, if not mild pleasure, from it. Like a feline being stroked behind the ears. He was, though he wouldn't admit it, a bit in awe. This femme was unlike anyone he'd ever encountered.
A small part of him told him that he should be vexed, but, he couldn't bring himself to be. She was too interesting, and this only added to his interest.
"Thank you," he rumbled, curiosity in his tone, "You are a curious individual. I confess that none have reacted in such a way to my voice. Interesting."
Some small part of his subconscious, the hunter's part, documented this and adjusted a possible fighting strategy. The larger part remained curious. He gave a single nod in response to her.
"You may proceed."
An exchanged witness of vocal powers. He doubted that such a thing had been done before.
It had been quite a while since she'd looked, but the database was still intact. It was a comprehensive census list, to be precise, loaded with information on just about every known Cybertronian. It had been hard coded into Hypnos to allow her to associate specific individuals with commands, and how to use them, if at all. Tarn had been programmed in as a superior officer quite some time ago, though Hypnos couldn't quite place the date or time.
The sides of her head slid open the same as before, having accepted Tarn's command.
It started as a tone, soft and somber. Then she began.
"If your performance is anything to go by, I don't think I'll be able to affect you to the degree that I would like to. You have a strong mind..."
She paused, stretching out a claw to rest it upon Tarn's chest.
"...and a strong spark."
"So I'll do something simple."
Hypnos's song only grew more enchanting over time, even though to anybody else it wouldn't have changed at all. She could feel the edges of Tarn's mind with her sound, and she'd been right; he was strong of body and soul, with a spark powerful enough to resist her, to a degree.
"Tell me, who is the most recent member to join the DJD?"
Tarn rumbled in interest as she began. He could feel her voice. Was this what it was like for his victims, he wondered? To feel something ethereal at the edge of one's periphery? Of the mind and spark? Perhaps.
As it was he felt a sense of calm, an urge to respond to her. Had he been caught completely unaware, he was certain it would have taken him a moment more to recognize that urge as foreign. As it was, he tilted his head, almost curiously. He could feel the pull, insistent and present at the forefront of his mind. But, with some concentration, he could also plant himself mentally against it. He paused for just a moment before allowing her to have her way.
"Vos," he replied to the simple question, "Though I believe that information is readily available to those who know how to find it."
"It is, but it's a much better alternative to trying to talk you into inflicting serious injuries on yourself and others. It leaves a better first impression between us, too."
Hypnos drew back her claw, letting it hang down by her side. She continued on in that same flat, disjointed tone of voice, though now much more normally.
"I tend to get very caught up in exercising my voice whenever I'm permitted to use it; my name is Hypnos, and you can make an informed guess on what my power is."
"I didn't name myself. I had a much nicer name before I... well, lost my head."
Tarn chuckled. He enjoyed her matter-of-fact way of speaking. All too often, those outside of the DJD were too afraid to be so blunt. And rightly so. But, coming from her, it was...refreshing.
"Indeed, I can. A pleasure," his joints creaked as he shifted his stance slightly, crossing his arms over his massive chassis, "As I am sure an introduction on my part would be redundant, I will simply give you permission to use my designation freely."
There were some officers who demanded to be called by their title or rank. Tarn saw no need to do so. He was well aware of his rank and needed no reminder, and his title was much the same. He was simply Tarn, as Megatron had named him.
He rumbled again, this time thoughtfully.
"I take it, then, that this name was given to you by those who took your head?" his red eyes glinted behind his mask, "If you prefer your original name...why not return to it?"
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altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
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