NCC Medical Ward

 

     The Crystal City repair bay is far larger than previous versions in Imperial Headquarters or Trypticon himself. Clearly it was designed by a medic, for a medic. The entire room is rectangular in nature with medical beds arranged in a neat grid pattern. The beds themselves vary, with some being precious little more than metal slabs, and others having full scanners and tools attached, as well as everything in between. In total, there are about twenty beds. There is room for more in an emergency situation. The cabinets line the walls, spaced out between medical terminals. Everything has a place, and organization is key. There are windows with thick transparent metal, allowing one to gaze out and see the wounded as they approach the hospital.

 

Contents:

Scrapper's Art <SA> - Twelve Pieces

Gumby Medic <NCC>

 

Mixmaster is sitting in HIS desk, consulting a datascreen. He's taking this job VERY seriously, it seems, and the desk seems to help. I mean.. he isn't playing with chemicals or anything! What gives?"

 

Ah, but what is going on in that fiendish drum of his? Only Mixmaster knows. Long Haul certainly has no clue. He's stuck lugging in several boxes of various supplies, as per usual. The only reason he's even doing this rather than anything else is because he's sure he can milk a few favors out of this. After all, some poor bastard is gonna come in with an arm missing and it will be the parts Long Haul delivers that make everything better. Unable to see very well beyond the stack of crates in his hands, the Constructicon does not notice his 'brother' at first, choosing to instead watch where he is stepping.

 

Mixmaster has no such issue to watch where Long Haul is going. He gets up from his intense scrutiny of the datascreen, (which, by the way, is trying to nut out the 'official' mix for Lime Green paint, the constructs go through it so much these days,) to go do something, (which, by the way, involved a major clean up crew,) when his brother gets in HIS way >THUD< he crashes into Long Haul, and his meticulously-piled box of crates. "Gah!" he snorts, not even noticing who is in there.

 

Long Haul plows into something coming up on his blind spot located on the other side of the crates, knocking the containers off balance but hardly phasing the heavy frame of the Decepticon transporter. That's to say nothing of his cargo, which clatters to the ground with a great deal of noise, due to the fact that Long Haul makes no effort to catch them. Instead, Long Haul simply nudges one of the crates closer to the others with one foot while simultaneously turning to his assailant. "Just wut do ya-" Long Haul pauses as he spots the lime green paint, the purple paint, and yes, even the devestating good looks that run in the family. "Can't ya open yer damn optics and watch where the hell yer goin'?" Long Haul intones. So what if Mixmaster's family. That just means it's okay to argue, right?

 

I WAS watching where I was going!" Mixmaster spits out at his brother. "And then YOUR Green aft got in the way!" He starts picking up stuff, not because he's helping his brother, but because there is a mess in HIS ward! He just loads it back up onto Long Haul, only with less care.

 

Long Haul's frame shudders slightly as each crate is forcefully placed back under his care, hands digging into the metal sides of the bottom crate as he grows aggravated that he has to continue to carry these damned things even longer. "Nuh-uh! It was /you/ who got in my way! Ya should'a been able ta see me comin' a million miles away!" Long Haul turns and dumps the crates unceremoniously on a nearby medtable, "This is all fer you anyway, I'd think you'd be happy to get th' crap ya need, an' on time fer once too! I shoulda went t'the demolition derby like I planned ta, with a cab full of newborn puppies, but nooo! Mixmaster needs his stinkin' parts!" Long Haul throws his hands up in the air, "But what do I get for passing up all th'fun? A facefulla chemist!"

 

Mixmaster points his finger accusingly at Long Haul, "And did you clear this little excursion with your OFFICER IN COMMAND? Hm? Did you even think to INVITE him along? No? Well, don't expect any tears from Mixmaster!" Mostly because TF's crying are unthemely, but hey. "Besides, this is what you do! What other use do you have for us?"

 

Long Haul recoils in mock horror, an equally phony gasp covered by the back of his hand shielding him from the absolute villainy that is Mixmaster's accusation. "What other use? What other use?! Where in hell d'ya think ya'd be without me? Y'think Hook is gonna use his talents as a total wad ta help make up fer the fact Devestator's about half th' size he's s'posed ta be? And... and... what about... my awesome skills at badminton?! Where'd ya be without that? Someday yer gonna have a shuttlecock that needs whackin' an' I'm not gonna be around ta do it! Then you'll be sorry!

 

"I'd be sorry, allright." Mixmaster spits at his brother, "Sorry that I don't get to mock the lubes outta you, before I go straight on to Bonecrusher, you overinflated ass! And not the ass that is stupid, the ass that carries things for people better than it!" He is ready to start off on another tirade, when he magically stops. "Oh, and did you like your promotion?" He says, eager to have a pleasant reaction from his bro. Funny how constructicons can go from bickering to pleasantries in one quick step, isn't it?

 

Long Haul suddenly nods, and his mood shifts almost as quickly as Mixer's, "Yeah, it's nice. I was thinkin' of havin' a small get-together to celebrate. Y'know, just me an' some explosives and mebbe a few dozen of Hook's personal belongings." Long Haul chuckles to himself, "Think ya could whip up some acid for some'a the good stuff?"

 

"Oh.. anytime there is a party, I'll be there to spike something." Mixy says, enjoying the sudden good times with his brother. "Speaking about acid.. there is something I've been meaning to show you.." he says, trying to lure his brother with words. He starts making his way out of the medical ward, and to the doorway. "You coming?" He says, looking over his shoulder.

 

Long Haul shrugs his shoulders, looking towards the pile of teetering crates. "Anythin's better'n this crap." Stomping after his brother, Long Haul makes sure to pound his heavy feet as heavily into the floor as possible in an attempt to shake the stack of crates enough to fall over. "Whatcha got?"

 

Mixmaster turns to his brother. "Just your mention of acid made me think... Come on.." he begins making his way out of the ward, and in the direction of the arena...

 

Holo Arena

 

     Inside the Holo Arena are black, rubber-coated walls to protect the steel and also to reduce the noise, as these sparring matches can get very violent. A central control room is suspended from the ceiling, heavily reinforced to protect the advanced computer that controls the holo-imaging and stores thousands of simulation scenariors. If a desired scenario isn't already available, then the computer allows for additional programming.

 

Contents:

Training Drone <NCC/Trypticon>

 

Long Haul comes into the Holo Arena.

 

Mixmaster stands in the holo Arena... waiting for his brother. He's led him this far...

 

Long Haul follows after his brother, not questioning or even putting to much thought into why Mixmaster has lead him this far. Not that it's all that horrible to have to spar with his fellow Constructicon...

 

"Just mentioning the word Acid made me think of my latest.. improvement," Mixmaster says to Long Haul, as a nozzle extrudes from his headpiece. "I can share my concoctions with people en masse!" he announces, as his nozzle proves his point, coating half the arena with his latest brew.. Mixmaster cackling all the time

 

Mixmaster unleashes his area_ranged attack on Long Haul, striking Long Haul.

 

Being far too large, dim-witted, and slow to avoid such a huge rain of acid, Long Haul does what he usually does when attacked in such a manner. He shields his most important components as best he can and bears it. The acid burns through paint and armor, eating into complex circuitry and chewing apart wires, but otherwise Long Haul is fine. It certainly hurts like hell though, and Long Haul does little to hide just how upset the pain makes him, even if it is simulated. "Ya damn bastard, Mixmaster! Ya could'a warned me!" Long Haul clenches his hands into fists reflexively as the immediate pain begins to subside, replaced by a simple dull throbbing. Stomping forward, the transporter flings out his open hands, attempting to shove the other Decepticon back onto his aft, "An' make sure ya save some'a that for Hook's crap!"

 

You evade Long Haul's Shove! attack.

 

"Oh, don't you worry, I did.. HA!" Mixmaster says as he easily moves away from his brother. "You're all whining about being a fighter?" Mixmaster snaps at his brother, raising his hand. "Then fight me! And why should I warn you? It's tactically unsound!" Or something. Like Mixy knows. Either way, his lime green open palm lowers itself sharply on Long Haul's faceplate.

 

You strike Long Haul with Constructicon Smackdown.

 

Long Haul gets a good ol'fashioned bitchslap to the face, leaving him feeling like a scolded child but otherwise unharmed. Only his pride really hurts. "I would gladly if ya'd just hold still!" Long Haul rubs at the spot where he was smacked, lunging out with his other hand to sieze Mixmaster by the throat. Or shoulder. Or anything else he can grab onto.

 

Long Haul strikes you with C'mere! for 5 points of damage.

 

Mixmaster gaks! As his brother grabs him by the neck. "Gchhk.." he sputters as he tries to get his fingers in under Long Haul's... "GGHAAAAAH!" He lifts his legs up, thrusting both of them into his brother's chest. Since he's all crotch, this should REALLY hurt. Sadly, he's probably going to wind up landing on his aft. But then again, he's a pharmacist, not a tactician.

 

You strike Long Haul with Cement Shoes.

 

Long Haul's grip is relentless as Mixmaster attempts to pry his hands away, only losing his stranglehold once the other Constructicon pounds the crap out of his chest with both of his feet. "Waaagh!" Is the only sound to escape Long Haul's vocaliser as he is booted, and the cement truck isn't the only one to land square on his aft, as ol' LH is hardly the most graceful Decepticon, quickly hitting the floor with a crash. Rising up as quickly as the bulky dump truck can, Long Haul shakes his head for a moment for allowing himself to be removed so easily, and retrieves his laser pistol from subspace in a flash, a pink one to be exact, choosing to use it rather than close the new, albeit short, distance between himself and Mixmaster. Laziness or poor judgement? You decide.

 

You evade Long Haul's Laser Pistol attack.

 

Mixmaster lands on the ground, his second collision in as many breems. "Ouch! YOU made me do that..." he snaps at Long Haul.. and then he pulls out his pistol, "..eep!" he squeaks, as he writhes about on the ground, attempting to avoid his brother's blasts. Tiring of this, he transforms into his Cement Truck mode. A speedy escape, or he just couldn't be bothered pulling himself to his feet? You decide. <No attack>

 

Mixmaster leans down as his legs fold up backwards. He falls down frontwards as he completes his transformation into a Green Cement Truck. His Cauldron begins rotating once again.

 

"No way! Yer not gettin' away with this that easy!" shouts Long Haul, shunting his laser pistol back into subspace. Dashing forward at what can hardly even be considered the average speed of crippled Cybertronians with wolverines for feet, Long Haul makes what seems to be a futile attempt to tackle the newly formed Cement Truck before it can get too far.

 

Long Haul succeeds in grasping Cement Truck <Mixmaster>, throwing him off-balance.

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> starts to speed away! Or so he thinks.. all of a sudden, HE is carrying something! "Lugging about useless materials is YOUR job, get your hands off me!" He snaps. "Oh well," he mutters as he tries to take off, "Since you're there.." a nozzle emits from the back end of his drum. "Have another taste!" This time, a different concoction shoots out, and in a far more concentrated area. Concentrated as in, right where Long Hauls head is.

 

Long Haul evades your Fast-Acting Acid Coat attack.

 

Or maybe it was aimed at the floor...

 

Fortunately for Long Haul, he has a considerable amount of weight and strength to use against Mixmaster, keeping the cement truck stationary. For now. "Yeah? Well how 'bout a switch? I'll lounge 'round the place, an' you can bring me stuff I want!" Spying the nozzle as it extends (it is, after all, aiming at his head), Long Haul digs his hands in and tips the cement truck away so that the spray of acid instead eradicates a part of the floor a few inches away. "Now I can teach ya all I know. First, ya pick up what yer movin'." With this, Long Haul begins to heave the other Constructicon into the air, "Then, ya move it as far as possible!" With this, Long Haul swings both arms and tosses Mixmaster like a shotput, hopefully catching him off-balance enough that he won't land softly.

 

Long Haul strikes you with The Ol' Heave-Ho! for 16 points of damage.

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> does NOT land softly at all, the front of his truck lands head-first, denting it severely. Thankfully this is only holo dmage, but it still hurts. "You overrated carry-bag!" he screams as he lands on his wheels, something that would wreck his suspension usually. He rears up to face his brother head on. "But perhaps you're on to something there," he says, his engine revvving, "Let's try that out!" And with that, he guns it, charging his brother head-first.

 

You strike Long Haul with Cement Truck Knockdown.

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> strikes Long Haul with Cement Truck Knockdown.

 

Long Haul stands strong for a few moments as the cement truck revs its engine in front of him, right up until it actually begins moving and accelerating. It is at this point that Long Haul does as close as he can figure as the most logical thing to do: turn and run. However, in true cartoon fashion, Long Haul runs in virtually a straight line, making him rather easy prey to catch. "Can't we talk about this?!" he shouts back to his brother, shortly before the cement truck catches the back of his legs and sends him tumbling head over heels into the floor. "Two can play this game!" the Constructicon calls, flipping over and brushing a broken piece of armor aside before transforming. A quick glance at the dump truck shows that it is clearly in pretty poor shape, but it is still quite capable of functioning. The battered front end forces itself to reveal the dual rocket launchers, the twin weapons taking aim as the vehicle begins chasing it's prey. Fwoosh, anyone?

 

Dropping towards the ground, Long Haul reverts to his Dump Truck mode.

 

Long Haul strikes you with Twin Rockets for 16 points of damage.

 

Can't we talk about this? Mixy has been yelling at him the entire time? What does Long Haul want? That being said, Mixmaster isn't holding up well either. That rocket REALLY damaged Mixy. Real bad wrong. "GUURRRRAAAAAAAAGH!" Mixmaster screams out as he shifts into his tougher armour mode. Yes, Mixy is getting more dense. Ha ha. "You'll suffer for that.." He mutters as his nozzle pops out of his head. But not to shoot out horrid acid, oh no! This is much thicker, stickier stuff. It's Mixmaster's own concoction, specifically designed to seep into pistons and motors, temporarily rendering them motionless.

 

The Cement Truck's cab folds down and splits in two, forming Mixmaster's legs and feet. His wheels and part of his sides shift out into his arms, which push himself up. The Constructicon lifts himself up onto his feet and looks eagerly for something to smelt.

 

You don't have that weapon armed. Available weapons: Slap Punch Kick Laser Disruptor Special Area_Ranged.

 

You successfully strike Long Haul, who is now temporarily incapacitated.

 

And with that, Long Haul's triumphant charge grinds to a halt, replaced instead by the sound of his engine roaring in a vain attempt to break free, before it too is bogged down by the glop. Now only the grinding of gears against gunk can be heard as Long Haul strains to get moving again.

 

Mixmaster cackles. Well, he's been pretty much cackling the whole time, but moreso now. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this.." he mutters as his gun materializes from subspace.. "Why We just don't give a gumby a wheelbarrow and have devastator several dozen feet shorter is beyond me.." he adds before pulling the trigger, square at the top Long Haul's dumptruck, knowing that is where his feet is. He should be limping when he transforms back now...

 

You strike Long Haul with Laser Pistol.

 

Armor panels along the inside Long Haul's box are melted away as a result of the blast, exposing the delicate circuitry underneath to the effects of Mixmaster's carefully aimed blasts. "Aaaugh! Simple, Mixmaster..." Long Haul's engine struggles to begin moving again, making a faint sound reminiscent of its powerful roars mere moments ago, "... 'cause the aver'ge gumby couldn't possibly replace me! I'm just too damn good!" Long Haul's wheels spin momentarily, the transporter's engines now feeding even a small amount of power to them. Almost there...

 

Mixmaster snorts out loud, which then bursts into laughing at that notion. "Oh, sure.. noone lugs things from a to b like you do, Long Haul." His nozzle extrudes again. "Noone else bitches like you!" And with that he begins coating the area in acid once more, going for widespread, since his brother has been avoiding him too much. Hopefully, it's not too thin that it doesn't do anything..

 

Mixmaster unleashes his area_ranged attack on Long Haul, striking Long Haul.

 

Lime Green Dumptruck <Long Haul> is once again doused in acid, eating away at not only more armor, but also the delicate components that have been newly and previously exposed, as well as the sticky gunk that has been jamming his ability to move. Twisting and flipping into robot mode, Long Haul stumbles as one of his legs gives out due to damaage, forcing him to kneel. "Alright, already! I get it, that's 'nough!" Long Haul throws his arms up in disgust, mostly at himself, "Primus! I might s'well spend th' rest of th' year drivin back and forth until my pump explodes!!"

 

Rising up, the dump truck splits apart in several places to form the Constructicon delivery boy, Long Haul.

 

Mixmaster could get used to this kneeling. "And that's what you'll do," Mixy says. "What else are you good for?" A pause. "Actually, you can start by running some plating I've made for the Dinocon project (OOC: Read the boards) to the Ward, and start attaching the plating you can. Remember to leave enough parts spare so that we can still get into the crucial areas for further installation. And make sure Hook get's that brain going! He can't take forever on it this time!"

 

Long Haul nods dumbly, reaching down to his forearm and prying off a small remnant of the sticky glop, "Y-yes, sir!" Long Haul replies, grabbing ahold of his bum leg to stand up and forcefully drag it to the console so he can reset his systems status in the holographic arena and then get to work. Once there, Long Haul resets the data on his own injuries, and then smears the clump of glup on the side of the console. *Sigh* Back to luggin' boxes...