The Intergalactic Highway

Hey there Joshin Yasha.

I've found myself in a similar rut with my Beast Wars/Terminator crossover (the last chapter was written in April), and figured getting help for a certain section would be beneficial.

First off, obviously you don't have to do go over this, but I'm posting the part of the story, so that if you do at all feel inclined, we both don't have to wait for mutual confirmation and then posting of the story. What I mean to say is, I'm posting the story, but I'm not assuming that you'll just work through it because its posted.

Anyways, a little background on this. Cheetor got into a fight with a T-X, at the end of the last chapter, and ended up going into stasis lock. The T-X had managed to inject some programming nano-bots into him, and so, as he's unconscious, his system has to fight off the foreign one.

I like to write in as much of a 3rd person limited style as I can, although, writing often demands a look at a person's inner thoughts. Here, I'm trying to get across the point that a Cybertronian's spark would make their regular systems immune to nano-control because of the sentience their spark grants them.

But it comes off somewhat confusing and cliche ridden. I mean, there are some things I do like. The fact that Cheetor hears his own unchecked thoughts at least provides for the rapid fire, and at time, random ideas that come to him. But... I wanted this to come out a bit darker than I think it does. Cheetor seems to figure things out too quickly. He's in control. The terminator should be confused about sentient will, and be at a disadvantage because of it, but still...

Ah.

I'm also considering writing an alternate version of this, where Cheetor doesn't talk directly to the nano-system, but actually sees Tigatron and has a conversation with him. This could explore some great emotional opportunities (this story takes place after the Beast Wars. Cheetor would not have seen Tigatron in years), and while it sets up the opportunity for Tigatron to explain to Cheetor that he's fighting for his own spark, it doesn't exactly give opportunity to explain the specifics of that fight. Furthermore, I generally shy away from communication with the dead, even Transformers dead, and I could explain it in a scientific manner later in the story (I have thought of a few ways already) or even claim that Cheetor's seeing Tigatron is really an extension of his own knowledge of what he must do (like Sarah seeing Kyle Reese in Terminator 2), but I don't know. It all seems rather complicated.

Anyways, this bit of writing is potentially embarrassing, but we'll see...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Darkness.

It reminded him of the time he was blinded by the energon explosion. But this time, he knew he wasn’t trying to look at the world around him. His optics were resting, not deactivated. He was staring into whatever his consciousness would display, which happened to be nothing. He wasn’t really conscious- not active. This had to be… his core. He didn’t know it saw, even if it only saw black. He heard what he thought. He wanted to know what in the world was going on.

And then he felt something changing, something terrible. It registered as an emotion, which in his state became some sort of distant painful shout. A shout of resistance, but desperation, as though it were engulfed in futility. Then he felt something else. Someone else.

“W-820-394-TEK?”

It had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was so hard to tell. And his confusion voiced itself out loud and echoed around where he couldn’t see. Some thoughts drifted in quietly, while others were louder, and seemingly nearer.

“Who are you? Are you talking or thinking? What’s going on? You know my model number. It’s a system, some computer. Nobody uses model numbers. We go by names. Why can’t I pretend I have no idea what that number means? You hear everything I think. I hear everything I think. Why can’t I hear your thoughts? Do you think of nothing? The darkness in here is too thick. I need to see something. What’s the easiest thing for me to see? What do I remember?”

Green lines and charts appeared as a targeting grid came into visualization.

“Stand down and grant me control of your core consciousness.” it commanded.

Something was telling him his normal systems, the things his consciousness did not have complete control over, were not going to help him. They were being taken over. He could feel it. This was the source of the pain. Another shout echoed around.

“Back off. This is my sentience. You can’t have it.”

“You have registered pain. A scan of your systems indicates you can not feel any physical pain in your body as of this moment. You have shut down your own nervous systems. Logic dictates that your pain is emotional. The emotional stimulus for this pain is likely the corruption of your systems. Allow me access to your core consciousness, and you will no longer feel that pain.”

“Wait. What? That pain is my feeling my own systems getting taken over, my freedom being taken away. Are you the terminator? I was injected with something. A system? Why in the world would I do something that my pain says is so horrible? Are you crazy? No! No! No! I won’t let you have it.”

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. This hurt even more. More shouts echoed around.

“What do you know anyways? You don’t even know what pain feels like!”

“I don’t know what the experience of pain is like. That, however, is not a problem for me. The pain is yours. And…” Another yelp came through. “I know this hurts.”

“Sentient will overriding system control.” a familiar, neutral computer announced. Cheetor felt a small dash of pain go away, and he felt just a little bit stronger.

“So this is why I’m awake. You're a corrupting agent. Has this been tested before? I wonder how many machines have been reprogrammed." Cheetor's own voice began to sound surprised. He was figuring it out. "Your corruption isn’t working because I’m not merely a machine. You had nearly gotten my systems. But my spark is fighting it. It’s activated my core consciousness to fight your programming for the mechanical parts of me. Sentience has significance over mechanics. But I already knew my dad was right. I was eating energon candy when he told me that. I want some candy. Do I still have the bowl in my room? You’re listening to all of this aren’t you?”

“If you shut down this nano-bot system, the next priority for me will be your termination. This is the only way you can stay alive.”

“Death? Could it kill me? That’s not cool. Wait… if I let you have my systems, you’ll use me to attack my team. That’s wrong, I can’t allow it.”

And idea rolled around in his head. It turned into a laugh.

“Wait, have you even met my team? You want to use my fear of death to convince me to fight them? You’re just full of contradictions. Losing my consciousness would be losing my life anyways. I wouldn’t be thinking anymore- you’d be. I’d be a machine, but not a sentient. I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t die fighting them, I’d die fighting some other resistance section. The good guys always win you know.”

“Foreign system being deleted. 15% remaining.” the computer voiced again.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted. “Wake me up, get my systems back online.”

“Systems are not nearly repaired. Reactivating in current state will be extremely dangerous.”

“That thing’s going to kill me once you’ve deleted all of it from my systems.”

“5% remaining.” It boasted.

“Wake me up! It’s about to scrap me! Come on!”

“Reactivating conscious systems. Foreign system completely erased.”

Light was flooding back into Cheetor’s optics, even though it was night, and he looked ahead of him. The terminator was already forming its arm weapon and turning to face him. He looked for his weapon, but it was still far behind him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yeah... the more I read it the less it seems to work properly. Maybe I'm just scared. Anyways, there it is.

Dalgaroth, first off, I wanna say how much I'm loving it! The improvements you've made are prime example of turning a good story into a great story. Congratulations, young grasshopper! You learn quite well from the teachings

As far as everything goes, you're on the right track, and I can't wait to read the finished product. If you *do* want some help with writing dialog for Quickstrike and/or Rampage, not to beat my own drum, but I'm pretty good at getting Rampage's language down to a science.



Blazemane, I've read some of your work before, and I gotta say I'm honoured to be asked to workshop a piece of your story. I've got a meeting to go to here in half an hour, but when I get back I'll take a look at what you've given me

Dalgaroth, first off, I wanna say how much I'm loving it! The improvements you've made are prime example of turning a good story into a great story. Congratulations, young grasshopper! You learn quite well from the teachings. As far as everything goes, you're on the right track, and I can't wait to read the finished product.

WOOHOO! Thank you for your help! I think I can finally get this chapter finished! I'll let you know when I got it!

If you *do* want some help with writing dialog for Quickstrike and/or Rampage, not to beat my own drum, but I'm pretty good at getting Rampage's language down to a science.

Yay! Hmm. I'm not sure if I need help, since I think I have Quickstrike okay and I've been told that Rampage is written alright as well. But I'd love to hear your opinion and maybe pointers if you have time! (It's Blazemane's turn! 8D So I'll wait!)

The following are different exerpts from other chapters of my fic. The first one is when Quickstrike and Inferno are helping DC recover shrapnel from a battlefield (so humans don't find it in the future).

-0-0-

Depth Charge grunted as he attempted, once more, to lift this tree trunk off the stash of Cybertronian alloys they detected beneath it, but it was proving to be a very difficult task, considering one of his companions wanted to shoot it to pieces and the other wanted to burn it.

“For … the last time…” he ground out, his voice straining midlift. “Nooooo….”

Inferno deflated slightly and Depth Charge sighed heavily.

“I need you to lift it, not destroy it,” the ray continued, voicing his real need for the first time since this trip started. Before, he’d been insulting them, dropping hints, suggesting plans, or asking questions – anything but giving a direct order – but these bots just didn’t get it.

The ant finally gave up, seeing as he had a new commander who apparently did not approve of fire, and helped lift the rather large bulk with a salute and renewed gusto while Quickstrike took it upon himself to whine.

“Awww, but Boss - ”

“Don’t call me that or you’re lifting this yourself,” Depth Charge growled.

“But what’s a little shootin’ gonna do - ?”

“Get down there!!” Depth Charge yelled. The tree trunk was finally up, but it was huge. He and Inferno were strong but the tree’s length made the weight hard to carry for an extended period of time. While the ant and ray held it aloft, Quickstrike shut up and crawled under, picking up all the little bits of – who was it now? Looked like Rattrap. Hmph. Varmint.

-0-0-

TBH, I haven't written much dialogue for him yet.

The second one is when Rampage is in the lava pits and finds Terrorsaur's volcanic tomb and drags it back to base. I particularly liked this part. I dont like how many times a repeat "molten rock" and whatever (GAAHH REPEATING! DX ) but otherwise, I think it sounds like him. In fact, it's the first time he does a little monologue like this in the whole fic, it being the first time he's alone to think aloud. xD

-0-0-

A few miles away, Rampage was standing out on the long slabs of black igneous rock that floated atop the live lava pits. Having finally wrestled his prize from the death trap, he paused to reflect over it…

“…Your spark … it’s ready to perish, Silent One,” Rampage muttered softly, his hand resting on the rough hot rock before him. The appendage travelled down along the sides of the formation, tracing its contours as he wondered what to do with it.

He’d pulled this particular chunk from the lava, burning himself and healing over and over to get this out. Before, this being had been sunk too deep for him to reach, not to mention entombed by lava. But since Tigerhawk’s grand entrance into the Beast Wars, it had been thrown up along the sides of the hot, rocky basin. This chunk had been half buried in cooling magma, but far more attainable, by the time he’d found it a couple megacycles ago.

“Since I was taken prisoner and brought to that ship, enslaved by Megatron’s paranoia and powerlust, I have sensed your soul beneath this roiling molten rock. You were calm and dreamed often. But lately… you’ve gone quiet.”

The crabbot’s hand found where the Spark was beating fast in anticipation of its demise and settled over it lightly.

“I could end your suffering, your waiting. I could release you from this prison and devour that which keeps you tethered to this realm…” he whispered. His three fingered hand curled inward, ready to reach in and rip the small, pulsing orb from the confines of the rock.

But he hesitated, and his curiosity kicked in.

Why hadn’t it withered away already? Why hadn’t Megatron retrieved it? Surely the saurian would at least offhandedly attempt to salvage a soldier. With the likes of Inferno and Waspinator about, how could Megatron let slip a soldier with any capacity to fight when he could have another at his command? Why did it deserve such a punishment? Was it intelligent at all? Was it a flyer? What was it like? What had its beast mode been? What was its name?

He didn’t bother considering asking anyone. Again, no one would answer.

So how could he find out?

-0-0-

Other times, Rampage is speaking..um...Rampagish but more conversationally? lol I dunno. xD

HEre's another part - Rampage finally find Airazor and Depth Charge as they take Tigatron's spark, which is being supported by an empty stasis pod, to find somewhere they can get energon to keep the pod running. This is the first time DC see him after leaving him in the ocean earlier, and Rampage has Inferno's leftovers with him to use as leverage. Rampage rubs the fact that DC failed in his face, but his main concern is finding out why the ther half of his spark is completely missing. D: This is before they find out they're bonded, btw.

-0-0-

Depth Charge found that his scanners must still be broken. They were still picking X up as if he was on top of the raybot but he was right there across the clearing! He ignored them, relying on his better senses.

X cocked his head.

“Why I’ve finally found you! Seems you’ve managed to elude my…scanners,” he exclaimed, gesturing slowly with his hands. They were empty, but Depth charge knew he was quick enough to get a missile launcher in his hands before he or Airazor could react. X’s voice took a mocking tone to it and he grinned, an optic ridge raised in amusement, “Well, first I wanted to let you know: I’m alive.”

The Guardian’s optics narrowed to slits. X laughed heartily, but it turned … hollow in a way; like he was more interested in watching his old friend’s reactions or looking for something than truly mocking. He even looked a little desperate. Something was up. Depth Charge had never seen such a drawn look on that mech’s face before.

“So? You’re alive,” Depth Charge replied, cocking his gun and holding it aloft, “What makes you think you’ll stay that way for long?”

X’s face fell into disappointment before picking up again into a more neutral expression. Internally he was searching, stretching his awareness across the clearing. Why couldn’t he feel his own spark!? Give it back! To polish off his growing frustration, X also couldn’t sense what Depth Charge was feeling. He only felt two sets of emotions when there were three sparks over there. This was really odd. He thought for sure he’d sense something if he came closer. Time for a little provoking - that usually got something from the teal skate.

“Well, I think I’ll be around for a long time, considering the fact that you can’t kill me,” he taunted, aware of the foreign spark in his chest cavity. His optics sharpened, looking for signs that Depth Charge knew what he was referring to. If DC killed Rampage, wouldn’t he kill himself in the process?

Depth Charge, however, didn’t get the hint and thought he was mocking him for their earlier battle again. He growled and pointed his rifle at his target, pulling the trigger.

“Depth Charge, no!” Airazor shouted, reaching a hand out but not daring to touch the short tempered ray.

X ducked behind three just next to him which splintered as the laserfire hit it.

“What!?” the manta shouted, optics trained on the tree. He mentally checked his cargo, but Tigatron was fine if confused and worried. At least…he thought he was confused and worried. How – ?

“He has something on him! We don’t know what it is and you’re firing blindly at him!” Airazor yelled angrily indignant, but not lowering her weapons. “It looked like a bot!”

“She’s right, tuna can!” X yelled out from behind the tree. “I have a little hostage you might not want to destroy so sparklessly.”

Yeah, I think that's it. n_n

Joshin Yasha wrote:Blazemane, I've read some of your work before, and I gotta say I'm honoured to be asked to workshop a piece of your story.

You just got my heart pumping there. Seriously?

I've got a meeting to go to here in half an hour, but when I get back I'll take a look at what you've given me

Thank you very much!

Okay, now that I've finally gotten to sit down with this and take a look through, I have something to respond to you with My apologies that some of the italics didn't copy over from Word, but we both know where the italics were originally, so it's manageable.

On a side note, I hope that if there's any people out there willing to try a fanfic that they're reading this workshop and getting some tips to help them. My other hope is that some of the seasons veterans of writing around here may even jump in and give some advice.

Let's begin...
--------

Darkness.

It reminded him of the time he was blinded by the energon explosion. But this time, he knew he wasn’t trying to look at the world around him. His optics were resting, not deactivated. He was staring into whatever his consciousness would display, which happened to be nothing. He wasn’t really conscious- not active. This had to be… his core. He didn’t know it saw, even if it only saw black. He heard what he thought. He wanted to know what in the world was going on.

And then he felt something changing, something terrible. It registered as an emotion, which in his state became some sort of distant painful shout. A shout of resistance, but desperation, as though it were engulfed in futility. Then he felt something else. Someone else.

“W-820-394-TEK?”

It had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was so hard to tell. And his confusion voiced itself out loud and echoed around where he couldn’t see. Some thoughts drifted in quietly, while others were louder, and seemingly nearer.

“Who are you? Are you talking or thinking? What’s going on? You know my model number. It’s a system, some computer. Nobody uses model numbers. We go by names. Why can’t I pretend I have no idea what that number means? You hear everything I think. I hear everything I think. Why can’t I hear your thoughts? Do you think of nothing? The darkness in here is too thick. I need to see something. What’s the easiest thing for me to see? What do I remember?”

Green lines and charts appeared as a targeting grid came into visualization.

“Stand down and grant me control of your core consciousness.” it commanded.

================
I like what I’m seeing so far. The part about the model number seems to me like you should add something else to his thought process. If it’s causing confusion to the character, then it might be good to add that extra touch to let the audience read how it’s confusing him. Perhaps something like: “It had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was hard to tell, because he had felt it, saw it, read it – it was as if the word announced itself into the various sensations. His confusion by this was apparent, but it too voiced itself out loud and echoed…”

Also, I’m not sure if what’s in quotations is supposed to be a juxtaposition of his thoughts and his actual words. Maybe add something to differentiate after the first comments to make it clear to the reader if he’s thinking or merely emphasizing. For example . . . “ “Who are you? Are you talking or thinking . . .?” He hesitated a moment, unsure of what he was hearing. He knew he had articulated the first comment aloud, but the second was merely a thought. Or so he reasoned; his speech and thoughts were becoming one in his core. “What’s going on? You know my model number . . .” ”
================

Something was telling him his normal systems, the things his consciousness did not have complete control over, were not going to help him. They were being taken over. He could feel it. This was the source of the pain. Another shout echoed around.

“Back off. This is my sentience. You can’t have it.”

“You have registered pain. A scan of your systems indicates you can not feel any physical pain in your body as of this moment. You have shut down your own nervous systems. Logic dictates that your pain is emotional. The emotional stimulus for this pain is likely the corruption of your systems. Allow me access to your core consciousness, and you will no longer feel that pain.”

“Wait. What? That pain is my feeling my own systems getting taken over, my freedom being taken away. Are you the terminator? I was injected with something. A system? Why in the world would I do something that my pain says is so horrible? Are you crazy? No! No! No! I won’t let you have it.”

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. This hurt even more. More shouts echoed around.

“What do you know anyways? You don’t even know what pain feels like!”

================
Something about the first paragraph is throwing me off, and I think it’s coming from “control over” and “taken over.” Some readers might trip over this because of how close these phrases are, but are related to two different things. Cheetor doesn’t have “complete control over” his automated systems, but he can feel that they’re being “taken over.” Maybe substitute in a different qualifier for one of the two and see how that reads in comparison.

Also, the descriptions that you have going for you appear to lack in these two statements “This hurt even more. More shouts echoed around.” Well, yes, it may hurt, and he may be shouting, but we want to read what it is that’s making him hurt and shout. This is an example of what I think could be added to that section:

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. With the full weight of the injection’s power coursing through his systems, the wrath of the machine was brought down upon his psyche. The cat did not even try to stifle the scream that pierced his being to his core; there was no agony greater than this that he could compare it to.
================

“I don’t know what the experience of pain is like. That, however, is not a problem for me. The pain is yours. And…” the pain came through again. “I know this hurts.”

“Sentient will overriding system control.” a familiar, neutral computer announced. Cheetor felt a small dash of pain go away, and he felt just a little bit stronger.

“So this is why I’m awake. You're a corrupting agent. Has this been tested before? I wonder how many machines have been reprogrammed." Cheetor's own voice began to sound surprised. He was figuring it out. "Your corruption isn’t working because I’m not merely a machine. You had nearly gotten my systems. But my spark is fighting it. It’s activated my core consciousness to fight your programming for the mechanical parts of me. Sentience has significance over mechanics. But I already knew my dad was right. I was eating energon candy when he told me that. I want some candy. Do I still have the bowl in my room? You’re listening to all of this aren’t you?”

“If you shut down this nano-bot system, the next priority for me will be your termination. This is the only way you can stay alive.”

“Death? Could it kill me? That’s not cool. Wait… if I let you have my systems, you’ll use me to attack my team. That’s wrong, I can’t allow it.”

================
It seems like Cheetor goes back and forth here in personality. Is this his regular, transmetal, or transmetal II body? I ask because he seemed to grow in personality over the course of the show with each new experience (represented by his body).

During his monolog he appears very adult, and then he goes back to being the surfer-kid kind of attitude. I realize that during the show, he would have his moments of profound knowledge, but it usually still came out of a teenage personality rather than an adult one. I guess the best comparison here would be to say that, during the first portion of his monolog he sounds like Beast Machines Cheetor who has earned his right to lead through knowledge gained, whereas the second part sounds more like Cheetor when he’s regurgitating knowledge he’s been fed (such as when he makes the comment in the show “Rhinox showed me how. I wish he were here right now”).
================

And idea rolled around in his head. It turned into a laugh.

“Wait, have you even met my team? You want to use my fear of death to convince me to fight them? You’re just full of contradictions. Losing my consciousness would be losing my life anyways. I wouldn’t be thinking anymore- you’d be. I’d be a machine, but not a sentient. I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t die fighting them, I’d die fighting some other resistance section. The good guys always win you know.”

================
Here’s just a few cases of grammar and spelling issues. “And (sic) idea rolled around in his head” and “I’d be a machine, but not a sentient (sic).”
================

“Foreign system being deleted. 15% remaining.” the computer voiced again.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted. “Wake me up, get my systems back online.”

“Systems are not nearly repaired. Reactivating in current state will be extremely dangerous.”

“That thing’s going to kill me once you’ve deleted all of it from my systems.”

“5% remaining.” It boasted.

“Wake me up! It’s about to scrap me! Come on!”

“Reactivating conscious systems. Foreign system completely erased.”

Light was flooding back into Cheetor’s optics, even though it was night, and he looked ahead of him. The terminator was already forming its arm weapon and turning to face him. He looked for his weapon, but it was still far behind him.

================
There’s only a few places that concern me here. The speech of the computer seems more conversational in some areas than it probably should be. Computers are techy, make ‘em sound that way!

Overall, not bad. Again, considering I’ve read some of your work before, I knew what quality to expect!
================
[/b]

Short reply:

That was totally awesome. But I have to go in depth tomorrow, because it's 12:06 over here. I need to go to bed.

But, there was one thing that particularly interested me, which I wouldn't sleep easy having not answered. I want to answer it so badly.

The reader is never directly told, although they may be able to figure it out in later chapters, but I basically forget Beast Machines.

I imagine Cheetor having matured quite a bit. He would become a natural leader, even without Beast Machines to make that happen. I was excited when you said he seems mature. I'm looking for that.

The whole idea is for Cheetor to actually be an asset to the human resistance in this story, not a liability. He's become a lot more level headed, he might even have some more battle prowess, etc.

But I think the child like nature, and sometimes, wonder which he showed during the show is actually what allows him to become that leading figure later on in life- the tenacity to be foolish and reckless can later become the tenacity to fight on when everything seems lost. The curiosity which landed him in so many terrible spots could later become the curiosity for him to figure out tough problems in effective, inventive ways.

The wisdom-

Well, that would have to come with age.

Um... so I suppose if some of his wondering, childlike personality shines through, then all the better.

But I have read and do get what you're saying. I will have to monitor his dialogue more carefully. I guess it might even be helpful for you to make like a specific list of what he says that seems "leader", and what seems "surfer". Because I have a general idea (some things stand out), but some things seem subtle/a mix of both, etc.

And again, I am so phsyched I actually convinced you even for a moment that he seemed mature. I intend to play around with a lot more in the coming chapters.

And specifically to answer the "what form is he question", the idea behind Cheetor being on Earth is that Cybertron commissioned him sometime after the Beast Wars to go back to Earth and insure that Megatron's meddling in the Beast Wars had indeed had no adverse affects on Earth's history. Because of this, he would want to remain inconspicuous, so if he actually had to walk around on Earth, he would stand out less looking like an actual cheetah. So I mean for him to be in original mode.

Of course, he gets stranded by some of Skynet's Hunter Killers pretty quickly, and after that, looking inconspicuous to the human race becomes kinda pointless.

Anyways, there's my long winded explanation. I will continue on other things tomorrow.

lol I'm glad you liked the workshop, but I'm waiting for your long answer! Hehehe

Quick question for Dal. Maybe you explained it and I missed it in my skimming..but why is Airazor alive with Depth Charge? That's a continuity error in the Beast Wars..

No contintuity error! :3

My story is set after the Maximals leave and everyone who died comes back. n_n!!!!

I'll be ready in at most an hour Joshin, if you're still here by then. Either way...

lol Yeah, I'll be up all night working on a senior thesis for my English major. lol Fire away

lol Yeah, I'll be up all night working on a senior thesis for my English major.

Wow. You’re in writer’s mode then. Seriously though, a senior thesis is of utmost importance, so I even dare you not to go over this until that’s finished. Especially since you say you’ll be up all night. Just… really, write your thesis and go to bed. I don’t intend to stay up after I post this anyways, so getting it within the night is not even a concern.

But the fact that you’re writing a thesis and doing this means you are too kind, and I thank you very much.

Fire away

Well! The buzz from the bees is that the cheetahs are in a bit of a spot.

…Oh, wrong movie. Er, show, Uh, whatever.

O.k., so I’m going to post my original draft in the exact same segments you divided them into, repaste your commentary so you know what you said for each part. I’ll give my response, and maybe a bit of theory as to why I re-wrote things the way I did, and then I’ll actually post the edited segments. At the end, I will provide a complete revised draft, in case you were interested in a straight read for overall appeal (like… does my editing make the style seem fragmented, schizophrenic, that sort of thing).

O.k., so… here we go.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Darkness.

It reminded him of the time he was blinded by the energon explosion. But this time, he knew he wasn’t trying to look at the world around him. His optics were resting, not deactivated. He was staring into whatever his consciousness would display, which happened to be nothing. He wasn’t really conscious- not active. This had to be… his core. He didn’t know it saw, even if it only saw black. He heard what he thought. He wanted to know what in the world was going on.

And then he felt something changing, something terrible. It registered as an emotion, which in his state became some sort of distant painful shout. A shout of resistance, but desperation, as though it were engulfed in futility. Then he felt something else. Someone else.

“W-820-394-TEK?”

It had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was so hard to tell. And his confusion voiced itself out loud and echoed around where he couldn’t see. Some thoughts drifted in quietly, while others were louder, and seemingly nearer.

I like what I’m seeing so far. The part about the model number seems to me like you should add something else to his thought process. If it’s causing confusion to the character, then it might be good to add that extra touch to let the audience read how it’s confusing him. Perhaps something like: “It had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was hard to tell, because he had felt it, saw it, read it – it was as if the word announced itself into the various sensations. His confusion by this was apparent, but it too voiced itself out loud and echoed…”

I know what you mean, but I’m not entirely sure I want to make an appeal to any sense but sound (in obvious amounts), and sight so much as he can’t see anything, and later has to invent something to see just so he doesn’t panic. Then there is “pain”, but that’s more conceptual in his head than physical. I think it might bear further elaboration, but I do want to stick to limited senses. I think. Other senses might allow for more flexibility, and therefore, I may end up going in that direction. Let’s for now, see how this works:

Darkness.

It reminded him of the time he was blinded by the energon explosion. But this time, he knew he wasn’t trying to look at the world around him. His optics were resting, not deactivated. He was staring into whatever his consciousness would display, which happened to be nothing. He wasn’t really conscious- not active. This had to be… his core. He didn’t know it saw, even if it only saw black. He heard what he thought. He wanted to know what in the world was going on.

And then he felt something changing, something terrible. It registered as an emotion, which in his state became some sort of distant painful shout. A shout of resistance, but desperation, as though it were engulfed in futility. Then he felt something else. Someone else.

“W-820-394-TEK?”

An unknown voice had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was so hard to tell. He couldn’t hear it come from a specific direction, and inside his own core, he began to wonder if he really was hearing anything or simply perceiving information. His confusion voiced itself out loud and echoed around where he couldn’t see. Some thoughts drifted in quietly, while others were louder and seemingly nearer.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Who are you? Are you talking or thinking? What’s going on? You know my model number. It’s a system, some computer. Nobody uses model numbers. We go by names. Why can’t I pretend I have no idea what that number means? You hear everything I think. I hear everything I think. Why can’t I hear your thoughts? Do you think of nothing? The darkness in here is too thick. I need to see something. What’s the easiest thing for me to see? What do I remember?”

Green lines and charts appeared as a targeting grid came into visualization.

“Stand down and grant me control of your core consciousness.” it commanded.

Also, I’m not sure if what’s in quotations is supposed to be a juxtaposition of his thoughts and his actual words. Maybe add something to differentiate after the first comments to make it clear to the reader if he’s thinking or merely emphasizing. For example . . . “ “Who are you? Are you talking or thinking . . .?” He hesitated a moment, unsure of what he was hearing. He knew he had articulated the first comment aloud, but the second was merely a thought. Or so he reasoned; his speech and thoughts were becoming one in his core. “What’s going on? You know my model number . . .”

Hm… to be completely honest, if I ever did think of this in terms of conscious thought and uncontrollable will, I’ve completely lost sight of it. But “spoken” thought and whim should be differentiable. This should help me focus a lot of the confusing stuff. Thank you:

“Who are you? Are you talking or thinking? What’s going on?” The last two questions were things he had not meant to think consciously, but whatever he thought of was voiced out loud, and he had thought them. “You know my model number. It’s a system, some computer. Nobody uses model numbers. We go by names. Why can’t I pretend I have no idea what that number means? You hear everything I think. I hear everything I think. Why can’t I hear your thoughts? Do you think of nothing? The darkness in here is too thick. I need to see something. What’s the easiest thing for me to see? What do I remember?”

Green lines and charts appeared as a targeting grid came into visualization.

“Stand down and grant me control of your core consciousness.” it commanded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Something was telling him his normal systems, the things his consciousness did not have complete control over, were not going to help him. They were being taken over. He could feel it. This was the source of the pain. Another shout echoed around.

“Back off. This is my sentience. You can’t have it.”

“You have registered pain. A scan of your systems indicates you can not feel any physical pain in your body as of this moment. You have shut down your own nervous systems. Logic dictates that your pain is emotional. The emotional stimulus for this pain is likely the corruption of your systems. Allow me access to your core consciousness, and you will no longer feel that pain.”

“Wait. What? That pain is my feeling my own systems getting taken over, my freedom being taken away. Are you the terminator? I was injected with something. A system? Why in the world would I do something that my pain says is so horrible? Are you crazy? No! No! No! I won’t let you have it.”

Something about the first paragraph is throwing me off, and I think it’s coming from “control over” and “taken over.” Some readers might trip over this because of how close these phrases are, but are related to two different things. Cheetor doesn’t have “complete control over” his automated systems, but he can feel that they’re being “taken over.” Maybe substitute in a different qualifier for one of the two and see how that reads in comparison.

Logical. I have replaced “didn’t have complete control over” with “in and of itself could never fully command”. By this, I mean that it’s his CPU (spark is to will as CPU is to brain), basically, which really controlled physical actions. His spark influences what he desires his body to do, but in the end, it’s the CPU that makes the decisions. Does that (and the new way I’ve written it) make sense?

Something was telling him his robotic systems, the things his consciousness in and of itself could never completely command, were not going to help him. They were being taken over. He could feel it. This was the source of the pain. Another shout echoed around.

“Back off. This is my sentience. You can’t have it.”

“You have registered pain. A scan of your systems indicates you can not feel any physical pain in your body as of this moment. You have shut down your own nervous systems. Logic dictates that your pain is emotional. The emotional stimulus for this pain is likely the corruption of your systems. Allow me access to your core consciousness, and you will no longer feel that pain.”

“Wait. What? That pain is my feeling my own systems getting taken over, my freedom being taken awayAre you the terminator? I was injected with something. A system? Why in the world would I do something that my pain says is so horrible? Are you crazy? No! No! No! I won’t let you have it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. This hurt even more. More shouts echoed around.

“What do you know anyways? You don’t even know what pain feels like!”

Also, the descriptions that you have going for you appear to lack in these two statements “This hurt even more. More shouts echoed around.” Well, yes, it may hurt, and he may be shouting, but we want to read what it is that’s making him hurt and shout. This is an example of what I think could be added to that section:

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. With the full weight of the injection’s power coursing through his systems, the wrath of the machine was brought down upon his psyche. The cat did not even try to stifle the scream that pierced his being to his core; there was no agony greater than this that he could compare it to.

Wow, what a paragraph. Well, I won’t try to plagiarize. Anyways, not much else to say about this section besides giving you general agreement. I’ll just see if the re-write works:

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. This was far worse than feeling his systems abandon him, because they were not truly him. It was as if some prized, unseen barricade had been torn down, and whatever monster had broken it was now in the darkened room with him. Fear gripped him tighter than he had ever known, for it now crossed his mind that he was close to losing his very self. A panicked shout rent the air. But for every action there is an opposite reaction, and something snapped in Cheetor’s core.

“What do you know anyways? You don’t even know what pain feels like!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I don’t know what the experience of pain is like. That, however, is not a problem for me. The pain is yours. And…” Another yelp came through. “I know this hurts.”

“Sentient will overriding system control.” a familiar, neutral computer announced. Cheetor felt a small dash of pain go away, and he felt just a little bit stronger.

“So this is why I’m awake. You're a corrupting agent. Has this been tested before? I wonder how many machines have been reprogrammed." Cheetor's own voice began to sound surprised. He was figuring it out. "Your corruption isn’t working because I’m not merely a machine. You had nearly gotten my systems. But my spark is fighting it. It’s activated my core consciousness to fight your programming for the mechanical parts of me. Sentience has significance over mechanics. But I already knew my dad was right. I was eating energon candy when he told me that. I want some candy. Do I still have the bowl in my room? You’re listening to all of this aren’t you?”

“If you shut down this nano-bot system, the next priority for me will be your termination. This is the only way you can stay alive.”

“Death? Could it kill me? That’s not cool. Wait… if I let you have my systems, you’ll use me to attack my team. That’s wrong, I can’t allow it.”

It seems like Cheetor goes back and forth here in personality. Is this his regular, transmetal, or transmetal II body? I ask because he seemed to grow in personality over the course of the show with each new experience (represented by his body).

During his monolog he appears very adult, and then he goes back to being the surfer-kid kind of attitude. I realize that during the show, he would have his moments of profound knowledge, but it usually still came out of a teenage personality rather than an adult one. I guess the best comparison here would be to say that, during the first portion of his monolog he sounds like Beast Machines Cheetor who has earned his right to lead through knowledge gained, whereas the second part sounds more like Cheetor when he’s regurgitating knowledge he’s been fed (such as when he makes the comment in the show “Rhinox showed me how. I wish he were here right now”).

Agreed, as stated in my earlier post. Well, the candy observation for one thing sticks out like a sore thumb. I suppose I wanted to show through this that just as random as the thoughts of the mind are, even a grown up Cheetor, might not be able to cut off a rabbit trail like that when he can hear his very whims. But the more I read it, the more inappropriate it sounds. Though, your main problem seemed to be, if I understand you correctly, everything starting from “So this is why I’m awake. You’re a corrupting agent.” And don’t get me wrong that makes sense. I’m just… going to have to think hard about what to say and not to…

O.k., I worked through it. Since my idea of Cheetor’s growth is a capitalization on un-honed traits that had previously been problems for him, I can still keep some of the wonder, but by taking the emphasis slightly off of what his own spark is doing to save him, I put more emphasis on the fact that his spark is defeating the T-X. It maintains some of his wonder, but uses it more for triumph and relief than happy surprise, if that makes sense. It actually might not look that different, because in some spots the switch on emphasis only needed some word replacements. Though there are some more noticeable additions:

“I don’t know what the experience of pain is like. That, however, is not a problem for me. The pain is yours. And…” the pain came through again. “I know this hurts.”

“Sentient will overriding system control.” a familiar, neutral computer announced. Cheetor felt a small dash of pain go away, and he felt just a little bit stronger.

“So this is why I’m awake. You're a corrupting agent. Has this been tested before? I wonder how many machines have been reprogrammed." Cheetor's own voice began to sound surprised. He was figuring it out. "Your corruption won’t work, because I’m not merely a machine. You had nearly gotten my systems. But my spark is fighting you. It’s activated my core consciousness to fight your programming for the mechanical parts of me. Sentience has significance over mechanics.” The shouts seemed to have died down for a moment.

“You lose.”

“If you shut down this nano-bot system, the next priority for me will be your termination. This is the only way you can stay alive.”

“Death? Could it kill me? That’s not cool. Wait… if I let you have my systems, you’ll use me to attack my team. That’s wrong, I can’t allow it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And idea rolled around in his head. It turned into a laugh.

“Wait, have you even met my team? You want to use my fear of death to convince me to fight them? You’re just full of contradictions. Losing my consciousness would be losing my life anyways. I wouldn’t be thinking anymore- you’d be. I’d be a machine, but not a sentient. I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t die fighting them, I’d die fighting some other resistance section. The good guys always win you know.”

Here’s just a few cases of grammar and spelling issues. “And (sic) idea rolled around in his head”



and “I’d be a machine, but not a sentient (sic).”

I feel slow, but trust your judgment- what have I written wrong with that sentence?

An idea rolled around in his head. It turned into a laugh.

“Wait, have you even met my team? You want to use my fear of death to convince me to fight them? You’re just full of contradictions. Losing my consciousness would be losing my life anyways. I wouldn’t be thinking anymore- you’d be. I’d be a machine, but not a sentient. I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t die fighting them, I’d die fighting some other resistance section. The good guys always win you know.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Foreign system being deleted. 15% remaining.” the computer voiced again.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted. “Wake me up, get my systems back online.”

“Systems are not nearly repaired. Reactivating in current state will be extremely dangerous.”

“That thing’s going to kill me once you’ve deleted all of it from my systems.”

“5% remaining.” It boasted.

“Wake me up! It’s about to scrap me! Come on!”

“Reactivating conscious systems. Foreign system completely erased.”

Light was flooding back into Cheetor’s optics, even though it was night, and he looked ahead of him. The terminator was already forming its arm weapon and turning to face him. He looked for his weapon, but it was still far behind him.

There’s only a few places that concern me here. The speech of the computer seems more conversational in some areas than it probably should be. Computers are techy, make ‘em sound that way!

Concerning the phrase “it boasted”, it was meant to be slightly ironic. Cheetor just said he was going to die, and his computer told him the time for that possibility was even closer. To clarify, this is Cheetor’s onboard computer, not the T-X’s virus.

There were some words in there that I found potentially conversational. But if the overall attitude of the computer is a problem, I might need you to point out the specific problems you see. Anyways, here’s the new version for your approval/disapproval: (I also added a detail about Cheetor transforming for the sake of continuity. When he went into stasis lock, his computer had put him in beast mode, but he needs to be a robot for his upcoming fight):

“Foreign system deleting. 15% remaining.” the computer voiced again.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted. “Wake me up, get my systems back online.”

“Systems extremely damaged. Reactivating will stall internal repairs.”

“That thing’s going to kill me once you’ve deleted all of it from my systems.”

“5% remaining.” It boasted.

“Wake me up! It’s about to scrap me! Come on!”

“Reactivating conscious systems. Foreign system completely erased.”

Light was flooding back into Cheetor’s optics, even though it was night. He transformed into battle mode and then looked ahead of himself. The terminator was already forming its arm weapon and turning to face him. He looked for his weapon, but it was still far behind him.

Overall, not bad. Again, considering I’ve read some of your work before, I knew what quality to expect!

Thank you. Do you generally read fan fiction on the console or the actual fan fiction archive or both?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Darkness.

It reminded him of the time he was blinded by the energon explosion. But this time, he knew he wasn’t trying to look at the world around him. His optics were resting, not deactivated. He was staring into whatever his consciousness would display, which happened to be nothing. He wasn’t really conscious- not active. This had to be… his core. He didn’t know it saw, even if it only saw black. He heard what he thought. He wanted to know what in the world was going on.

And then he felt something changing, something terrible. It registered as an emotion, which in his state became some sort of distant painful shout. A shout of resistance, but desperation, as though it were engulfed in futility. Then he felt something else. Someone else.

“W-820-394-TEK?”

An unknown voice had spoken, or thought, or probed. It was so hard to tell. He couldn’t hear it come from a specific direction, and inside his own core, he began to wonder if he really was hearing anything or simply perceiving information. His confusion voiced itself out loud and echoed around where he couldn’t see. Some thoughts drifted in quietly, while others were louder and seemingly nearer.

“Who are you? Are you talking or thinking? What’s going on?” The last two questions were things he had not meant to think consciously, but whatever he thought of was voiced out loud, and he had thought them. “You know my model number. It’s a system, some computer. Nobody uses model numbers. We go by names. Why can’t I pretend I have no idea what that number means? You hear everything I think. I hear everything I think. Why can’t I hear your thoughts? Do you think of nothing? The darkness in here is too thick. I need to see something. What’s the easiest thing for me to see? What do I remember?”

Green lines and charts appeared as a targeting grid came into visualization.

“Stand down and grant me control of your core consciousness.” it commanded.

Something was telling him his robotic systems, the things his consciousness in and of itself could never completely command, were not going to help him. They were being taken over. He could feel it. This was the source of the pain. Another shout echoed around.

“Back off. This is my sentience. You can’t have it.”

“You have registered pain. A scan of your systems indicates you can not feel any physical pain in your body as of this moment. You have shut down your own nervous systems. Logic dictates that your pain is emotional. The emotional stimulus for this pain is likely the corruption of your systems. Allow me access to your core consciousness, and you will no longer feel that pain.”

“Wait. What? That pain is my feeling my own systems getting taken over, my freedom being taken awayAre you the terminator? I was injected with something. A system? Why in the world would I do something that my pain says is so horrible? Are you crazy? No! No! No! I won’t let you have it.”

Cheetor felt it trying to gain access to his spark’s will. This was far worse than feeling his systems abandon him, because they were not truly him. It was as if some prized, unseen barricade had been torn down, and whatever monster had broken it was now in the darkened room with him. Fear gripped him tighter than he had ever known, for it now crossed his mind that he was close to losing his very self. A panicked shout rent the air. But for every action there is an opposite reaction, and something snapped in Cheetor’s core.

“What do you know anyways? You don’t even know what pain feels like!”

“I don’t know what the experience of pain is like. That, however, is not a problem for me. The pain is yours. And…” the pain came through again. “I know this hurts.”

“Sentient will overriding system control.” a familiar, neutral computer announced. Cheetor felt a small dash of pain go away, and he felt just a little bit stronger.

“So this is why I’m awake. You're a corrupting agent. Has this been tested before? I wonder how many machines have been reprogrammed." Cheetor's own voice began to sound surprised. He was figuring it out. "Your corruption won’t work, because I’m not merely a machine. You had nearly gotten my systems. But my spark is fighting you. It’s activated my core consciousness to fight your programming for the mechanical parts of me. Sentience has significance over mechanics.” The shouts seemed to have died down for a moment.

“You lose.”

“If you shut down this nano-bot system, the next priority for me will be your termination. This is the only way you can stay alive.”

“Death? Could it kill me? That’s not cool. Wait… if I let you have my systems, you’ll use me to attack my team. That’s wrong, I can’t allow it.”

An idea rolled around in his head. It turned into a laugh.

“Wait, have you even met my team? You want to use my fear of death to convince me to fight them? You’re just full of contradictions. Losing my consciousness would be losing my life anyways. I wouldn’t be thinking anymore- you’d be. I’d be a machine, but not a sentient. I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t die fighting them, I’d die fighting some other resistance section. The good guys always win you know.”

“Foreign system deleting. 15% remaining.” Cheetor's own computer voiced again.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted. “Wake me up, get my systems back online.”

“Systems extremely damaged. Reactivating will stall internal repairs.”

“That thing’s going to kill me once you’ve deleted all of it from my systems.”

“5% remaining.” It boasted.

“Wake me up! It’s about to scrap me! Come on!”

“Reactivating conscious systems. Foreign system completely erased.”

Light was flooding back into Cheetor’s optics, even though it was night. He transformed into battle mode and then looked ahead of himself. The terminator was already forming its arm weapon and turning to face him. He looked for his weapon, but it was still far behind him.

I'm loving the read! And you're right, I'm gonna wait until tomorrow evening to get back to this Sleep well!

Edit:

Now that I've had some time to read through everything, I have to say that I love the changes that you've made, and that one paragraph that you redid -- wow! I love your version more than my suggestion! (Which, ya know, should be obvious that yours, as the writer, would be better!)

and “I’d be a machine, but not a sentient (sic).”

I feel slow, but trust your judgment- what have I written wrong with that sentence?

Ah, whoops, guess I should have clarified what I meant. "I'd be a machine, but not a sentient." The second half of it, "but not a sentient," doesn't read right to me. I think it would be better as either "but not sentient" or "but not a sentient being."

The improvements you made to Cheetor's internal computer sound better, as well. The changes you've made to the overall piece have been strong improvements on your part Again, you, like Dalgaroth, have proven you can turn a good story into a great story! Congrats, I stamp this Workshop as a "Pass!"

*bump to show edits*

Joshin Yasha wrote:I'm loving the read! And you're right, I'm gonna wait until tomorrow evening to get back to this Sleep well!

Edit:

Now that I've had some time to read through everything, I have to say that I love the changes that you've made, and that one paragraph that you redid -- wow! I love your version more than my suggestion! (Which, ya know, should be obvious that yours, as the writer, would be better!)

Thank you very much. I wasn't actually all that sure of it, but I'm glad to hear you like it.

and “I’d be a machine, but not a sentient (sic).”

I feel slow, but trust your judgment- what have I written wrong with that sentence?

Ah, whoops, guess I should have clarified what I meant. "I'd be a machine, but not a sentient." The second half of it, "but not a sentient," doesn't read right to me. I think it would be better as either "but not sentient" or "but not a sentient being."

Oh. O.k., I just double checked on dictionary.com (if that's a reliable enough source), and it says sentient can be used as a noun:

"–noun
3. a person or thing that is sentient."

Since it is a noun, I like just using "sentient", because it's concise, and the more concise Cheetor's speech at this point the more it seems like he's saying "This is true. This is true. This is true."

The improvements you made to Cheetor's internal computer sound better, as well. The changes you've made to the overall piece have been strong improvements on your part Again, you, like Dalgaroth, have proven you can turn a good story into a great story! Congrats, I stamp this Workshop as a "Pass!"

Thank you again.