I Am A Soldier:

I want a status report! Infected, well, whatever, sound off.

Xanth, Zuko. Tell me you are unharmed.

Some illness will not affect me. I will protect anyone who requires it.

[With or without a response, the big Autobot is going zombie stomping, looking for his kids.]

[How long has it been since the old 'bot refueled? Before the battle with the End, if he remembers right. Which was far too long ago, if how tired and cranky he's feeling is any judge.]

[After some deliberation, he flicks the journal open.]

Where does anyone refuel around here? Speak up. Make it quick.

[If he doesn't get an immediate response, he will stomp his way out of his room, and start searching the Keep for anything that looks like a cube of energon. Or something to put his systems back in order again.]

[Good evening, Keep residents. Where is your resident Autobot, you might ask? Why, he's found himself the Armory, that's what.]

[And, he was hoping to find some scrap metal. But, like so much of his life, lately, he's out of luck. No metal, no charges, no medic... not even the stupid frog.]

[His engine growls a low, almost mournful note before his fingers close around one of the practice blades, and he flings it across the room, where it smacks against the wall with a satisfying sound of cracking wood.]

[But the feeling only lasts for so long, and he's left with a broken sword, and no 'family'. Not even the scraps he was looking for.]

If you are in vertiline_rpg and still seeing this journal, please DE-FRIEND IT.

It is being reused. Thank you!

... Why are the birds speaking.

[Ironhide can be found sitting outside of his artichoke pod and casually throwing rocks at one of the aforementioned birds in irritation.

The bird does not shut up.]

[Ironhide's voice is all but completely obscured by the sound of whistling wind. He's likely shouting over the sound of it, straining to make himself audible.]

Keep out of the dirt town! Nothing but sand and wind here!

[A pause.]

And scrap metals!

[There's only wind for a while, as Ironhide begins to scan the area more closely.]

...

And corpses.

[By now, Ironhide's probably made his way from Hande out to Sabatier. The dust does not agree with him, but he'll save that rant for another time.]

...

Anyone else find it odd there are suddenly towns where there once was fog? Where there were creatures capable of easily slaughtering humans?

Standing in a town right now. Still populated. No sign of defenses or damage. Yet... they were in the fog.

[He grunts, which turns into more of a cough as his intake vents clear themselves of dust.]

Does not add up.

... Need a pair of hands. And cleaning equipment.

Got... organic bits stuck in my foot.

[He's just going to be pretending not to see all that carnage on his way back. Because repression is so very healthy.]

[Hello Vertiline. And how are you this fine morning? Hopefully you're not doing anything that requires your being behind the forge.

But if you are, you'll probably notice a massive black robot loading a lot of oddly glowing cubes into his arms. Along with a small collection of nails and such, pilfered from the forge itself.

His armor is battered, and pitted with holes -- the largest being on his chest. This accomplished, he proceeds to stalk back off toward his pod, the cubes carried very carefully. Every motion makes his joints creak. Once he arrives at the pod, he unceremoniously dumps the cubes inside, before stepping back out again.

Ironhide, at the end of this errand, can be found hunkered down in front of his pod, drinking out of one of the cubes, and thoughtfully watching the sunrise. Occasionally, he chews on one of the nails.

Approach?]

[The com crackles. Ironhide shakes it. He hasn't bothered to go find his "living quarters". Not yet. He has a far more important job to attend to.

When the comm finally starts up, the voice on his end is deep, faintly accented, and still very angry.]

Autobots. Come in. Respond! I have lost your signals... answer me!

[When there is no immediate response, he snarls into it, then goes silent for several minutes.]

...

Where is this place?