NCC Coastline
It is a tribute to the construction of the city that they were
successfully able to integrate a Cybertronian landscape into something as
un-Cybertronian as a coastline. This, more than any other area in New Crystal
City, is unable to keep the Cybertron feel. The shoreline consists of a metal
cliff-face that descends deep into the water. The tide causes the water level
to rise up slightly, but clearly the designers didn't wish to have the ocean
interfere with the city. The coastline of New Crystal City serves as the
gateway to the rest of the city. Roadways start and end here and travel up into
the sky, supported by strong metal struts. One can gain easy access to the
Residential Zone, the Spaceport, or the Central Hub. A single metal dock
extends out of the island, designed to facilitate the few Imperial sea-going
vessels that are owned.
Contents:
Decepticon Standard Troops
#5859
Imperial Vessel
<Despoiler>
Obvious exits:
North <N> leads to NCC Central Hub.
East <E> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.
West <W> leads to NCC Spaceport.
Fly <Up> Ocean <O>
Long Haul arrives from the
NCC Central Hub to the north.
Long Haul has arrived.
Scrapper is currently on the
docks of the city, where the metal monstrosity reaches out into the sea with a
single platform, giving an odd blend of the Earthern environment and the
attempt to make this the only Cybertronian city not on Cybertron. Regardless,
the Constructicon is by the Despoiler, which is currently stripped down of all
armour and engines. Gumbies are all wandering around, organizing the supplies
Motormaster stole.
Meanwhile, Long Haul has
managed to sneak away from his assigned task of restocking supplies in the
medical bay to take a short constitutional around the base and escape the
drudgery that is being a lackey. More accurately, Long Haul is avoiding work
and complaining about it. "Lousy stinkin' dirt eatin' scum... always
makin' me..." Mutter. Grumble. So on and so forth.
Scrapper begins barking out
orders to the gumbies, "You there, get the GPS system prepped! Airwolf and
I didn't spend all that time calibrating it so you could lounge around waiting
for it!" GPS conveniently stands for Galactic Positioning System, by the
way, not global positioning system. Scrapper hops up onto a large empty crate
so he can look down on all the gumbies and so he can see everything. "The
neutron scanner is ready for installation as well." Scrapper hrms and
looks around, spotting one of his lime green brothers. "Ahhhh, Long Haul.
Just the mech I wanted to see." How often does /that/ happen?
Only whenever someone needs
something else moved, and by God, if Long Haul has to help Scrapper move his
damn couch into the perfect spot for 3 hours again, he'll snap. Looking up from
his rather meager thoughts, Long Haul looks back over his shoulder at NCC and
curses to himself for being spotted before looking at his brother in the most
cheerful way his blank face can. With a great gush of false enthusiasm, Long
Haul greets his sibling, "Scrapper! What a dee-light ta see ya! Looks like
work's goin' well."
Scrapper indeed does need
something moved! Fancy that? The Constructicon gives as cheerful a look as he
can back to his brother without the aid of a face. "Why THANK you, dear
brother." He says with a snicker. "I /am/ doing fine. Now quit
slacking off and see if you can't pitch in here. The GPS needs to be
installed... here," he indicates, pointing in the rough vacinity. The GPS
is a huge piece of machinery, hence why Long Haul gets the task. "And
after that, the neutron scanner. Will you be needing any -help- with
this?" he asks in a slightly mocking tone.
Long Haul looks up in the
direction indicated by his brother, considering the dimensions of the opening
and then the dimensions of the GPS itself before shrugging. "Whatever you
say, Scrapper." Why Scrapper would trust Long Haul to install large,
sensitive equipment is beyond the Constructicon, but I suppose he's the only
one available that has even a slight chance of doing it properly. "Me?
Need help? Naah... I can handle it." .oO(I hope.) Long Haul strolls
casually up to the GPS, once again eyeballing it for a few moments to find the
most suitable place to grasp.
Scrapper squints his optical
visor and watches Long Haul as the transporter literally sizes up the task at
hand. He hops off of his perch on the empty crate and lands on the metal ground
next to a gumby technician and elbows him sharply to get his attention.
"Make sure he doesn't mess up anything... the last thing we need is
Motormaster coming to kill us all because of his stupidity." The
technician nods and starts innocently wandering over to where the GPS is going
to be installed. Scrapper, meanwhile, starts directing other technicians, but
keeps watch out of the corner of his optics.
Long Haul finds what he
feels is an excellent place to get a firm grip on the task at hand, free of
wires and any structurally unsound materials, and immediately takes hold,
lifting the item easily and holding it high. Glancing around momentarily, Long
Haul scans the surface of the ship, searching for the spot indicated for
several moments before spotting a large gap. .oO(There we go.) With that, Long
Haul begins his trek to the opening, which is in fact, simply a hole made from
the removed armor that reveals a storage area.
Scrapper continues to talk
with a gumby. "Might as well cart off the solar collectors... there's no
way we're going to be able to incorporate it into the new systems for the
Despoiler..." Scrapper waves his hand dismissively, "We'll use 'em
for something else." Hmmm. The technician, meanwhile, makes himself busy
by standing near Long Haul and running a scanner along the hull of the ship.
Scrapper watches Long Haul and finally decides he better go help him - just in
case. The Constructicon follows Hauler slowly. "Sure you don't need any
help?" he asks yet again.
"Surely sure."
Long Haul replies, ramming through a gumby and stepping over the unfortunate
technician, "Watch where yer movin', jerkface!" he calls back to the
poor guy, stopping before what he believes is the right place. Looking at the
hole once again, however, Long Haul checks the size and then rechecks the size
and shape of the GPS. Turning back to Scrapper, Long Haul shakes his head,
"The hole's not big enough."
The poor technician is very
nearly trampled, and gives a yelp as he retreats away from the area, watching
from afar with annoyance. Scrapper, meanwhile, would roll his optics if he
could and doesn't even bother checking to see if the transport Construct is
right or not. "Of /course/ it's big enough, Long Haul. You must just be
seeing it wrong. Either that or you have it in the wrong place..."
Scrapper shakes his head, muttering something about how all the other
Constructicons are idiots.
"I'm tellin' ya, you
made the damn hole too small!" Long Haul sets the GPS down next to the
opening, "It's got ta be at /least/ 2 feet wider an' 4 feet longer."
Hefting up the GPS once again, Long Haul sets it into the space and makes a
small showing of attempting to shove it in. "See? Shoddy work. As usual
certain people are worthless." Long Haul looks around to the various
technicians crowding the area.
Meanwhile, the gumby Scrapper sent to supervise Long Haul is
scratching his head and looking at the pair on the opposite end of the ship.
Scrapper gives an
exaggerated SIGH and shakes his head at Long Haul. He steps over and helps hold
the GPS, pushing as well. "See, all you have to do is twist it a bit
and..." Scrapper hrms as it still isn't going in. "Ahem, as I was
saying, all you have to do is..." Scrapper grunts and continues to push as
hard as he can, but to no success. The gumby supervising Long Haul (lets give
him a name: Aerosol) - Aerosol, meanwhile, squints in disbelief at the sheer
inefficiency going on right now. Scrapper finally stops pushing and whips out a
laser torch. "Well since you clearly can't do your job properly," he
snorts as he begins cutting the hole to be two feet wider and four feet taller.
"I guess I'll have to make it easier for you..."
Long Haul snorts, "It
ain't my fault the damn techns can't read blueprints to save their afts. I
mean, how hard s'it to cut a stupid hole?" Long Haul patiently holds the
GPS as Scrapper cuts, tapping his foot. Underneath the layer of metal is a
sizable room with smooth walls, which would be the cargo bay were it not devoid
of cargo.
Sparks fly from the
Despoiler's hull as the hole is slowly widened. A bright yellow/red line
appears as Scrapper cuts through the thick inner chassis. "Oh, sure, blame
them because they figured you would be capable of getting something into a
hole." He says, totally ignoring the fact that he couldn't do it either.
"See Long Haul, MOST people think that a Constructicon would be able to
accomplish the oh so difficult task of 'putting something into a hole', but
NOOoooooooOOoo, that's too complicated." he stands back up, the hole now
wider.
"Well Scrapper, if ya
want me ta just slam things inta place-" Long Haul now holds the GPS over
the newly widened hole, raising it up over his head, "-Then say so!"
Swinging down, the transporter brings the positioning system down in, well, in
the general direction of the hole. However, he still strikes one side of the
opening, resulting in a loud crash and a large dent, but at least the GPS is
shoved in there. "There? Happy?"
Aerosol, meanwhile, gapes in
shock as the Constructicon practically throws a delicate piece of equipment
into place, optics widening at the prospect that it could have been severly
damaged. Now Aerosol quickly makes his way across the ship, dashing around
other technicians and leaping over protrusions while waving his arms and
shouting.
Scrapper throws his hands up
into the air, "You idiot!" he shouts at his larger brother (by width
if not height). "NOW look what you've done." Scrapper shakes his head
in anger and marches right over to that dent, motioning for Long Haul to take a
better look. "See this? This was not in the blueprints. This dent is going
to mess up the entire artistic flow of this vehicle. Right here was where I was
planning on stapling Blaster's left leg... but I guess I can't do that /now/,
do I?" Were Scrapper human, he'd whack Long Haul with a newspaper and rub
his nose in the dent.
"Well excuuuse
me!" Long Haul crosses his arms and sticks his faceplate in the air,
"It's not my fault you're harder ta figger out than a damn femme! An'
besides-" Long Haul looks down at the dent and lowers his foot into the
whole slightly, placing the tip of his foot underneath the impression,
"It's nothin' I can't fix." Long Haul immediately begins pulling on
it with his foot, "I woulda thought even you'd realise that."
Scrapper ignores Aerosol's
shoutings as he's too busy shouting at Long Haul. "A /femme/? Just what is
THAT supposed to mean?" he sneers as he's unsure of what that is supposed
to mean. He watches as Long Haul gets ready to repair the dent with his foot.
"Yeah, you /better/ fix it," he says in his gruff voice while folding
his arms. "And there better not be any damage to the GPS, either,
otherwise you'll be coming along for all the shuttle rides it took to get it
calibrated."
"It /means/ yer
impossible ta figure out 'cause ya talk so damn much nothin' goes
together!" Long Haul finds that his foot keeps slipping as he tries to
pull up, and ducks down to grab ahold of the lip of the dent, "Now, could
ya just keep quiet fer two minutes? I'm tryin' to focus." Pulling back
hard, the metal groans in protest for a moment before making a loud snapping
sound, the end result being that the metal now protrudes the other way, and
part of it has broken off in Long Haul's hands. Holding the piece in his hands
for a moment, Long Haul hides it behind his back, "See? It ain't dented no
more."
Mixmaster arrives from the
NCC Central Hub to the north.
Mixmaster has arrived.
Scrapper and Long Haul, for
anyone joining in, are on the docks by the Despoiler, standing next to a hole
in the ship's chassis that has just been messily filled by the GPS. Aerosol, a
gumby, is... well, watching in awe. Scrapper watches as Long Haul employs his
oh so awesome repair techniques. "What's wrong, Long Haul? Doesn't seem to
be working. Doesn't seem to be working, Long Haul. Long Haul, it doesn't seem
to be working. Long Haul, it's not working, Long Haul. Doesn't work, Long Haul.
Long Haul, it doesn't seem to be working, Long Haul." he says in response
to the request to be quiet. Nevertheless, Long Haul fixes it... sort of.
Scrapper slaps himself in the forehead. "Oh for the love of
Primus...!" he groans. "Slag it, now Mixmaster's going to have to
remold that... and you know how testy he can be at times..."
Long Haul throws the chunk
of metal forcefully /into/ the hull of the Despoiler, flinging his hands into
the air in frustration, "Maybe if ya'd /shut up/ I could
concentrate!" Raising his foot, Long Haul stomps on the raised metal, only
serving to make it more wavy, "Forget it. I'm /glad/ Mixmaster has ta do
somethin' around here." Twisting at the sound of Aerosol's shouting, Long
Haul's irritation switches to the unsuspecting gumby. "What's his damn
problem?"
Scrapper becomes pretty
animated with flailing his arms around in the air. "Well EXCUSE ME, your
MAJESTY," he shouts, giving a big mock bow before the almighty assman.
"I guess I'll just do whatever you say since you can't work and listen at
the same time." Scrapper is about to say something more, but then becomes
aware of Aerosol's shouting. Scrapper squints and looks in the gumby's
direction. "Dunno," he says, perfectly calm. "Lets go find
out."
Mixmaster plods out of the
Hub. Laughing at your brother's comatose corpse is only funny for so long, so
he has to find something else to do. Oh well, the Despoiler is out here, or so
Scrapper says. He's got no idea what Scrapper and Long Haul were talking about,
but they seem to be interested in that Gumby, he'd better go see what.. hang
on. "Who, in the slagging name of Primus, did that repair job?!" He
shouts out in irritation. "I'm going to have to remold that!"
Long Haul strolls calmly
towards Aerosol, completely at ease despite the argument he was having all of
12 seconds ago. Damn sudden shifts in mood. They're probably the only thing
that keeps the Constructicons away from one another's throats. Raising his
voice, Aerosol continues to shout, even as the Constructs approach. "Sirs!
Sirs!" Long Haul lifts his chin slightly, raising his voice, "Whaddya
want?! Can't you see I'm busy clownin' Scrapper here on the art of
construction?"
Scrapper is about to shout
at Aerosol, but Long Haul beats him to it. "Yeah, we're very important
mechs, y'know." He says with a shake of his head. "This better be
worth our time..." The Constructicon blinks and then looks at Long Haul.
"Hey, wait-!" he says, realizing the insult. "You? Telling /me/
about art? Why I oughta..." Before he can go on, he hears Mixmaster's
approach and question. Scrapper does the leaderly thing to do and points an
accusing finger at Long Haul. "He did it!"
Long Haul nods, satisfied
that he has properly put Scrapper in his place. Sort of. There's still the
little matter that this has all been one mistake after another thanks to Long
Haul's lack of attention or concern. But that's not important, because Scrapper
has been interrupted every time he tries to defend himself. .oO(Totally
clowned.) Then the accusations start flying, "I was only doing what he
told me to do!" Nevermind the bits of improvisation.
Aerosol shakes his head,
trying to get past the squabbling. "But sirs... The GPS! It's far too
delicate for that kind of installation, and... Well. That's not where it
goes."
He did it? Scrapper, you
effing tool. Mixmaster has about a months worth of insults to make up for being
SO DAMN NICE to the guy.. but the bickering. Oh, the bickering, has already
started. Mixy oversteps his mark somewhat, forgetting that he is the boss of
all the others, but not Scrapper. "And WHY is it that MY division is such
a bunch of incompetants? Honestly. I should brig the two of you right now! Or,
uh, something." Mixmaster, you effing tool. "Both of you do the job
properly before I add some Constructicon parts to the Despoiler, on top of all
the Autobot ones!" He snaps at both his brothers.
Scrapper ignores Aerosol
since he's a gumby and gumbies never have anything important to say. Right? The
Constructicon gasps at Long Haul. "I told you to INSTALL IT, not 'do
something so stupid that the sheer concept of stupid looks brilliant', you
overweight useless pile of scrap metal!" But then Mixmaster gets in on the
action, and Scrapper sneers, "Brig /me/, dear brother? I'm sorry, for that
to happen you'd have to stop SUCKING all the time. And don't you /dare/ steal
my artistic motif." He nudges the transporter. "C'mon, Long Haul, we
don't have to take this crap from him." He sneers, advancing towards
Mixmaster so he looks all badass-like.
"Yeah?! Well it's in
there! What more do ya want?" Long Haul doesn't seem to catch on Aerosol's
timid words either, focused on the argument between himself and his brothers.
"It's not my fault the damn techs yer /supposed/ to supervisin' can't cut
a stinkin' hole properly!" Long Haul turns and points a finger at
Mixmaster, "And /you/, well-" Long Haul pauses as Scrapper makes his
comment in regards to Mixmaster, and simply nods, "What he said."
Mixmaster snorts at Long
Haul's half-assed backing. "Way to inspire the masses, Scrapper." he
begins. "I can see why you wanted a REAL Leader. And YOU," he says,
pointing to Long Haul. "Go do the job properly. Scrapper, Me, and Kitbash
here are going to watch you do it properly. And laugh." Yeah, he's not
called Kitbash, he's Aerosol. Y'Think Mixy's gonna care?
Mixmaster says, "And as for stealing your motif, Scrapper
I'm carrying on with the theme of the ship! Didn't you want corpses on it or
something?" Mixy shakes his head. "Sheesh, the one time I go along
with /your/ creations..."
Scrapper peers at Long Haul.
"Well it's not OUR fault that you needed an extra big hole." He
retorts even though it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Back at Mixmaster,
Scrapper clenches his fists. "A proper leader?!" He roars. "You
couldn't lead a group of Cassetticons out of a wet paper bag!" he shouts,
shaking his fist. "And /I'll/ handle the art, thankyewveddy much. I
wouldn't want your Mixmaster stink messing up the dead bodies."
"Fine!" Long Haul
shouts back to Mixmaster, "It's no problem! I can put this entire ship
together myself if ya give me time!" Turning around, Long Haul stomps off
to the hole and leaps down, almost landing on top of the GPS. Aerosol takes a
timid step towards the opening and begins to shout, but is muffled by the
sounds of loud banging and cursing. "SIR! You're in the wrong spot!"
cries the poor gumby.
"Do it yourself?
Fine!" Mixmaster shrugs. Woohoo, one less project to worry about! Turning
to Scrapper, he then adds, "A big hole? What? That's it Scrapper, no more
Energon goodies for you, they go to your head apparently. And.. leave the art
to YOU?! I'M the most creative of the lot here, and YOU KNOW IT." He makes
his point by tapping Scrapper's chest three times as he says the last part of
his sentence. And I wouldn't want to lead the cassetticons out of a paper bag,
I would probably be the one that put them in there in the first place!"
Oookay, Mixy's also losing the point. "Stupid Soundwave..." He adds,
muttering out loud.
Scrapper waves a hand
dismissively at Aerosol without bothering to look at him. "Now now, this
is no time for bickering," he tells the gumby. "The /real/ mechs are
at work. Go back to your job of standing around and making it seem like our
army is bigger than it really is. And I was talking to LONG HAUL about the
hole, you brain microchip deprived reject." He squints at the chest
poking. "Stupid Soundwave..." he suddenly echos Mixmaster.
Long Haul sets to work
opening up panels and revealing various wires and circuit boards. Opening
similar panels on the walls of the cargo bay, Long Haul looks at the wires in
his hand and at the plugs in the wall and his optic visor narrows. "Insert
Tab A into Slot B..." Long Haul searches for slot B for some time,
muttering to himself, "Stupid Soundwave." He didn't hear what's going
on above, there's just an 'Electronics by Soundwave' sticker on the inside of
the panel. Oh well. Long Haul merely begins forcefully shoving the cords into
spaces that look like they would fit. "Piece of cake guys! No problemo! Be
done in a minute!" .oO(Woah! What in the name of the Pit is /that/ thing?)
The mutual bitching of
Soundwave seems to have calmed Mixmaster down. "You know.. I TRY to be
helpful, you know, Scrapper. And when people arrive damaged from battle, I
offer to repair them! I decide, Okay, /maybe/ that 'Constructicon's Inferior'
jab was in the heat of the moment, so I go up to Soundwave, and offer to repair
his damage. What does he say?" Mixmaster attempts to emulate the Tape
Lord's voice: "Do not touch me..." ..and fails. But sticking his arms
up like a zombie helps. Maybe. "So yeah, Stupid, Stupid soundwave. I'm
going to pound him down so much that he can only record our trumpet music. Less
damaged trumpets that way. I'm sure you don't want your brand new and totally
EXCELLENT new blue trumpet hurt, now do you, Scrapper?"
Scrapper follows Long Haul
to make sure that the transporter is doing all tof this right. Even though the
hole is evidently the wrong one, no doubt it'll alllll work out in the end. He
thinks back, trying to remember how these old GPS units used to work. It's been
a while since he's done something like this, and he whips out his STARSHIP
TECHNOLOGY manual datapad, seemingly out of thin air. Looking it up, he says
helpfully, "You have to insert Tab A into Slot B." Looking back up at
Mixmaster, Scrapper snorts, "Soundwave's an idiot if he refuses the
repairs of a Constructicon. Someday we should finish what we started on Astrotrain."
He's pretty calm right now, reminded of his brand spankin' new DC trumpet.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm
doin' it!" But Long Haul thought this thing was a battleship that sailed
through the seas, not a starship. Whatever. Taking hold of the large power
cord, Long Haul finds the socket in the wall and stares, "Damn
Polyhexian-shaped outlets! Who designs those stupid things!? I mean, 13 plugs?
Isn't that a little stingy?" Long Haul looks at the end of the power cord
for the GPS and shrugs, "Either I find an adapter or..."
If Long Haul is thinking
this is a sea vessel, no wonder he's botching everything up. Where is some
instruction manuals when you need them! "Oh.. for the love of.." he
mutters to himself. "Did you check the port connections on the OTHER side?
This IS a three-dimensional unit you're creating. The devices can be kept at
/any/ angle, not just straight ahead." He continues to stand there
chatting to his brother, the topic? Mutual bitching. "Any Predacons DARED
to enter the repair ward since my decree, Scrapper?" He asks, out of
curiosity.
Scrapper continues to read
the manual. "Hey, did you know that FTL was invented by a mech who was
actually trying to make Cybertron's Biggest Missile? Wow, this thing's just
chalk full of interesting facts." The Constructicon looks up, noticing the
plight of Long Haul and Mixmaster. "What?" he asks the both of them.
"Predacons? Oh, no, not that I've seen. But I haven't really been keeping
a close eye on them or anything. We should also kick Predaking's rear end someday."
He mentions it like this since he knows full well that defeating them
separately would be virtually impossible for them.
"Alright! I'll try
that!" Long Haul mutters to himself, searching for another opening,
"Self-serving, maniacal, brilliant son of a..." Long Haul flips open
another panel, shoving the power cable in, "I think that worked!" The
transporter locates another series of cables and begins looking for what he
believes is their proper place.
Mixmaster shakes his head
sadly at Long Haul's plight. "Let me see that!" he says, Snatching
Scrapper's manual away from him, and calling up a random page. "Yeah..
smashing some Predaking aft would be good. I mean, painting me yellow and
orange.. Ick. Yellow and Orange are NOT the colours a Constructicon is supposed
to be.." He begins reading some more. "Hey.. and the inventor of the
first subspace-storage prototype unit is currently two cubic astromillimetres
in size now, due to a freak accident in it's first trial process."
Scrapper looks away from his
manual, which he really is finding facinating. "There's an entire chapter
on how to spruce up your shuttle with nice artistic arrangements."
Realizing that nobody cares, Scrapper is about to continue when -gasp- the
manual is stolen from him. "Hey!" he shouts, standing up. He snickers
at the reminder of poor, poor Mixmaster being red, yellow and orange, but tries
to hide his laughter. Since Long Haul seems to be finished, Scrapper runs to a
terminal right next to where the GPS is located. "Lesse now... the GPS says
that the secret formula for galactic locations is... 'love'?! Who's been
screwing with this thing?!"
As Scrapper checks the GPS
and discovers that there's somethin' fishy goin' on, Long Haul suddenly ends up
standing behind Aerosol somehow. "I blame us gumbies!" says Long
Haul, in his worst impression of a random person. "See? See?! They admit
their own failings!" Long Haul shouts in his own voice. "Now just a
minute!" As Aerosol speaks up, his defence is tragically cut short by a sweeping
shove off the side of the Despoiler, "But don't worry, Scrapper, I've
taken care of those responsible, and I'm sure we can fix it." Long Haul
beams proudly, believing that someone nearby just may have fallen for it.
Mixmaster witnessed the
whole thing at a distance, and didn't fall, although Long Haul gets points for
being amusing. Even if they are immediately deducted for being an idiot. He
returns to his work. And by work I mean lazing about reading the manual.
"And the sonic screwdriver was originally designed by a femme, although
not for mechanical applications. Huh.. it doesn't go on to say what sort of
applictions they were talking about..."
Scrapper falls for it even
though he's looking right at Long Haul and the others. "Stupid
gumbies!" He shouts, shaking his fist and peering all evil like at them.
If he had a moustache, he'd tweak it something good. The lime green engineer
looks back at the GPS and gives it a good smack with his Primus given
Constructicon strength. "Ahhhh, there we go," he says, peering back
at the terminal. "Ever notice that hitting things sometimes makes it
better? I've been wanting to test this theory while repairing certain
Decepticons..." He looks over at Mixmaster, about to ask a question...
but... then he thinks better of it.
If Long Haul could sweat,
he'd wipe it from his brow, but instead he just lets out a contented sigh of
relief. "Well now, since that's all done, why don't we have some
fun?" Long Haul looks around, like a little puppy filled with hope and
love. And rainbows. Nevermind that the GPS system is sitting in the middle of
the repair bay, it's connections crammed into all sorts of ports and systems,
and God knows it's not even SECURED IN PLACE! Oh the HUMANITY!
Mixmaster stows away his
manual. "Hitting things, huh?" he mutters out loud.. dropping it
suddenly. Aww, Long Haul is happy. Mixmaster decides some praise is needed
here. That's what good commanders do, now, isn't it? "Good work,
Brother," Mixmaster says. "Finally got it going, well done." And
with that, he gives the Despoiler a few pats... >THUD< and the GPS falls
right through and dents itself on the ground. "....." Mixmaster
slowly turns his head to Long Haul, a snarl sloooowly forming on his mouth...
Scrapper figures the GPS is
good enough for now. And if it falls off, surely someone will fix it. But more
importantly, he'll have a good excuse to yell at Long Haul some more for his
shoddy workmanship. The Constructicon peers at Mixmaster as he compliments Long
Haul, hiding a snicker. "Now lets all go play badminton!" He shouts.
He's about to get going when suddenly >THUD<. Scrapper looks over to Long
Haul. "....." he adds to Mixmaster's comments.
Long Haul freezes, staring
at the GPS module for a few moments, then the hole in the floor, and then
finally Mixmaster, "What? You're the one who did it." Long Haul
raises his hands, "See these? Didn't touch a thing. Was nooo where near
it." Peering down at the GPS again, "Thus, it ain't my responsibility
to fix it, right?"
Aerosol slowly drags himself
out from under the GPS system, one leg shattered into a gooey stump.
"Bastards... complete and utter bastards..." Odds are he's going to
find the nearest tall structure and throw himself off it.
Mixmaster's own hands are
raised. But in the innocent 'I did nothing' way. This is the 'I'm going to
choke you till candy comes out' way. He charges his brother on the Despoiler,
maintaining his footing quite well as he runs along it's hull.. until he gets
to just where the cabling is all strewn about. Mixy trips up on it, and rather
than charge his brother, he's now quite airborne.. and is going to go into the
water as well. Well hey, at least Long Haul is in the same vector as him, Mixy
could bump him into the drink with him.
Mixmaster succeeds in
grasping Long Haul, throwing him off-balance.
Scrapper slaps his forehead
as Long Haul seems ready to ignore the damaged GPS unit. He doesn't bother
helping Aerosol since gumbies are gumbies and gumbies are only useful for
making player-characters look badass. The Constructicon watches as Mixmaster
makes a run at Long Haul, "You fool! No fighting near the Despoiler! The
last thing we need is to damage our baby with /your/ idiotic fooling
around." He snorts, stomping towards wherever Mix and Long Haul happen to
land.
Galvatron (brentb) pages:
Yes. If you go with my theory, you avoid that. Only speak when you actually
know what you're talking about, be silent and ABSORB when you don't. I fear,
unlike you or I who would sit and absorb what he would have to say about brain
surgery, he would tell a brain surgeon about brain surgery.
Long Haul lets out a
surprised yell as Mixmaster bowls into him, forcing the not-so-nimble
transporter off his feet, and completely off the Despoiler too. The pair go
tumbling down towards Davey Jones' Locker, but Long Haul still has time to
shout. "Dammit, Mixmaster! Look what yer stupid ass did now!"
*Splash!*
Glub Glub Glub. That would
be Mixmaster's fate right now. Unable to swim, and too silly to activate his
Anti Gravs until it was too late, he's in the water. Unless, he thinks, he can
make one last grasp at the undercarriage of the Despoiler. He reaches out
and...
Mixmaster succeeds in
grasping Imperial Vessel <Despoiler>, throwing it off-balance.
Scrapper walks over to the
edge of the docks and looks down. "You idiots." he says, shaking his
head. The Constructicon folds his arms and taps his foot, waiting for the leg
and ass to get out of the drink so that he can yell at them for being stupid.
Long Haul grasps
ineffectively at Mixmaster's legs as the chemist grabs ahold of the Despoiler's
undercarriage, continuing to sink deeper and deeper into the depths.
.oO(Freakin' Mixmaster... I'll kills him good, I will!) Maybe if Long Haul had
a moustache, it's superior powers would enable him to swim. But alas, he's just
a big chunk of metal, sinkin' in the deep blue sea.
Mixmaster chortles to
himself as the dumptruck sinks lower and lower. He wonders if Scrapper has
noticed him. He sneaks out under the Despoiler to the docks.. huh. Maybe he
hasn't. Slooowly, he carries himself along the docks, to where his brother is..
Before his green arm snaps up from the water, and onto Scrapper's foot. Hoping
to heave with the might of a Constructicon, Mixmaster grunts as he tries to
throw his brother in to join Long Haul.
Mixmaster succeeds in
grasping Scrapper, throwing him off-balance.
Scrapper peers down at where
the pair of them went down. Or so he thinks. "Uh... y... you guys ok down
there?" he asks, getting no reply. The Constructicon Commander scratches
his head, idly considering how embarassing it would be to lose his brothers due
to drowning. Sighing, Scrapper tries to think up a plan, but is interupted as
Mixmaster suddenly reaches up, grabs onto him, and pulls! Oh no! Scrapper falls
forward with a loud yelp. As he falls, he flails his arms around, hopefully
knocking into Mixmaster as he splashes into the water and begins to sink.
Mixmaster evades your grasp
attack.
Long Haul wanders around a
bit on the ocean floor before trying to scale one of the support beams. He
fails miserably however, as all forms of aquatic life have already begun
flourishing on it and made it quite slippery. If Long Haul knew which way shore
was, maybe that might help...
Mixmaster catches one
brother square on his head. A few nuts that were barely tightened on in the
first place come loose with the impact, and Mixmaster loses his single-handed
grip. >CLANG< goes dense metal against dense metal. Heh. We're dense.
Sadly, dense isn't always boyant, and Mixmaster starts to sink down, down down.
Scrapper might notice the red scratch marks on his paint showing up again. The
last lime green paint job must have been done with a waterbase paint. Gah.
Mixy's last words before he floods his audios with water.. "OW! You clumsy
oaf, why can't you fall in away from-GLGUGGPGGH! GLUBHGAG!" Bubbles spew
from his mouth in place of the obscenities he's attempting to make.
Scrapper sinks down towards
the bottom, though he probably won't meet up with Long Haul since the
transporter has decided to wander off. Now that's just prime. Too long down
here and they'll begin to short-circuit, and that's not good! The
Constructicons sink downward, and the entire time Scrapper makes lewd gestures
at Mixmaster angrily. Finally, upon touching bottom, Scrapper looks up,
realizing he should have activated his anti-gravs upon hitting the surface of
the water. He looks at Mixmaster, obviously wondering what to do now.
Long Haul is just strutting
around, all by himself, minding his own business under the sea (o/` under the
sea, things are much hotter, under de water, take it from me! o/`) when suddenly
a pair of dimwit brothers touch down a short distance in front of him,
.oO(Alright, so it's definitely that way...) Long Haul makse several crude
gestures of his own at his two brothers, stomping slowly through the water.
Mixmaster manages to straighten
himself up right as they plummet to the ground. All he manages to do is shrug
to Scrapper as they continue to descend...
Scrapper starts playing
charades to his two brothers. He takes three fingers and gestures to the three
of them, and then holds up six fingers with the aid of his other hand. Then he
raises his hand upwards dramatically. The Constructicon then takes two fingers
and points them downwards, and then adds another finger from his other hand
resting on top of the two there. He makes the two fingers pointing down 'walk'
a bit, and then holds up three fingers.
<Decepticon> Long Haul
says, "... Glubglub... glub!"
Mixmaster tries to work out
what his brother is saying. Though he doesn't have an optic visor like Long
Haul and Scrapper. He THINKS it's a game of Charades, and so announces
"Titanic!" Sadly, it comes out as nothing but bubbles.
Long Haul plays his own
game. He points at Scrapper with one finger, then points at his own temple with
his other hand and makes spirals. Then he points at Mixmaster, points at his
own temple again, pounds one fist into his open palm, and smacks his limp hand
against his chest twice.
Scrapper doesn't know what
Mixmaster said, but he's certain that his idiot brother got it wrong. I mean,
lets be honest, the chances are pretty good. He shakes his head, telling Mix
his answer is incorrect. He looks at Long Haul and studies it, hrming slightly.
Finally he says, "The concept of brilliance?" But of course it's all
gurgles and bubbles.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Glub?"
<Decepticon>
Mixmaster's radio spews forth some more bubbles.
<Decepticon> Long Haul
says, "GLUB! Glub-GLUB!"
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "This language they speak sounds fishy."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Very. What in the blue
unicronhell is going on?"
How are we supposed to
shush? I mean, Besides, Galvatron finds out where we are, he could go rescue
us. With a cannon for good measure, of course, but it's better than all this
wet stuff rusting us! He is getting tired of all the gestures that he can
barely make out... And then he sees a something moving from behind Long Haul.
Something BIG. Did you know that there are Giant Squid in New Zealand's oceans,
that are twenty metres long? Mixmaster doesn't. And he can't see one, either.
Stupid not having a visor.
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "Reflector? can you get a fix on that fish transmition? they are
obviously disturbing Lord Galvatron. Get me a fix and I'll go bomb the charr
out of them."
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "Not really. Fish aren't
native to Cybertron, and that's where we are.
We'd reccomend asking, er . . . actually, most of the DCI is up here
too. So use the base sensors."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "..."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "are you sure? ...ok. gimme a sec."
Scrapper doesn't seen the
squid. He's too busy explaining his AWESOME plan. The Constructicon does hear
Ramjet's 'suggestion', however, and starts worrying. The Constructicon ponders
how best to explain his plan. Course... the other three would have to be here,
and they probably don't know about the plight that they're in. Scrapper hrms
and thinks to himself. Finally, at least to get his idea across, he strikes a
heroic pose. Surely this will tell them what he means.
Act like fanboys?
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "yes, we're quite sure fish aren't native to Cybertron. No lakes, rivers, or seas, you see."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
reads out loud, aparenrty dee in thought... "Thank you for installing a
Hook-a-tronic 3000 comunications mainframe..." he mutters irritably,
"Who'd have thought a computer would be so complicated?"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "I WANT ANSWERS!"
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "about the fish, my lord? Or
the fishy noises?"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "What do you think, Reflector.
Really, what do you think? OF
COURSE THE NOISES! NYARGH!"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
mumbles, "You can't find good help these days."
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "Of course, our lord."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Give me a full location sweep pattern on Mixmaster and Long
Haul."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "er...right."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Ramjet, prepare to kill something in the face. If this is a joke..."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "Understood. Tac display reads them as on NCC's coastline. Maybe
they went fishing?"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "...That's Autobot foolishness!
Decepticons do not go fishing.
Prepare the space bridge for my arrival."
Galvatron arrives from the
NCC Central Hub to the north.
Galvatron has arrived.
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "er...Right."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "I have arrived. Ramjet,
meet me on the coastline. Weapons
primed. This had better be serious."
<Decepticon> Aerosol
transmits, "I saw them fall into the water, m'Lord. They haven't come back
up yet."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "Copy that. on my way."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Perhaps some aquabot has attacked the constructicons, or perhaps
they were idiotic enough to
get pulled into the
current. Only time will tell."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Yes, well, some of us can swim!"
Mixmaster is at the bottom
of the ocean. Long Haul hasn't noticed it yet, but a squid is closing in on
him.
Ramjet arrives from the NCC
Central Hub to the north.
Ramjet has arrived.
<Decepticon> Mixmaster
BLUBGLUBGLUBS! In panic as he hears Galvatron say he's coming..
Ramjet flys in in robot
mode, red optics sweeping the cloast for Galvatron, on each arm his weapons are
loaded and ready, just itching to be allowed to blow something up.
<Decepticon> Reflector
says, "it seems that Mixmaster's signal just got stronger, sir. Perhaps he's yelling for help?"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "I would assume so."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "How you can fall into the damn water...*sighs* Nevermind. Ramjet, transform, aerial patrols.
Make sure no foreign craft
caused this. If they did...EXECUTION
for them."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "I will dive."
<Decepticon> Aerosol
transmits, "Long Haul, Mixmaster, and Scrapper are down there, sirs."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "Right. I'm packing some depth charges incase it's an underwater
attack by those atlanteans."
Ramjet transforms into a
better ramming mode. His chest rotates up and back as delta wings fold round
into place. Jets ignite and a modified F-15 speeds away from where he was.
Galvatron lands in the area,
looking around. He nods to Ramjet, "You have your orders. Let us hope you
get to kill something on this day. If not, we will find something for you to
kill. Preferably a gumby. I will prepare to dive." he starts heading out
into the water, slowly getting deeper and deeper.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "...Right. Prepare
depthcharges."
Long Haul continues trying
to sign his way out of this mess, creating a little person with his hands very
reminiscent of Scrapper's earlier demonstration. He then creates a second
person with his other hand and stacks him on top of the first, and is in the
process of moving to make the first hand stack again when the sea squid decides
to get friendly with its meal, sliding its tentacle around Long Haul's ankle
and drawing the Constructicon transport towards it's body. Because in cartoons,
squid always try to attack things made of metal and almost as big as they are.
Long Haul can only try to grab ahold of the ocean floor and make lots of
bubbles in response.
Scrapper is also at the
bottom of the ocean with Mixmaster, playing charades with the other
Constructicons and trying to think up ideas of how to get out of here. If only
they'd flown up upon hitting the water when they had the chance! Now they're
stuck here. Scrapper keeps motioning with his fingers. A bunch of gumbies,
including our poor damaged boy Aerosol is watching the bubbles come up from on
the docks. He watches Long Haul and nods, "Exactly!" he shouts, but
it comes out only as gurgles and bubbles. But oh no, then the squid comes to
attack! Scrapper whips out his laser gun and starts shooting randomly, only to
find out that his gun doesn't work underwater. Curses! Scrapper ponders saving
Long Haul or not, and figures he might as well. Scrapper runs after the squid,
trying to grab onto the tentacle.
Modified F-15 jets off
across the ocean search radar sweeping the skys, scanning the horizen for ships
or aircraft.
Aerosol, meanwhile, salutes
to Galvatron upon his arrival, ready to answer any questions.
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "I'm reading nothing on the surface or in the air. Could be out of
range or stealthed. Depthcharges armed and ready."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Excellent, I am almost
submerged. Switching to text
transmission."
Modified F-15 fires up his
afterburners and accelerates to make a quick loop of the island, securing the
naval perimeter and switching search radar to his maximum scan range.
Galvatron floats freely
towards the bottom of the ocean, optics glowering in it's depths. He looks
around for that tell tale green of the constructicon. He shakes his head.
Perhaps, just maybe...he sends out a text message. God love modern technology.
He continues to sink, thinking he hears the swish sounds of underwater
struggle.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Text Message from 555-666-6666:
Ramjet. Can your radar be
modified to give basic water location schemes?"
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "TXT: uh...probli...not in mid air tho. do u see anytng?"
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "TXT: See. No. Hear? Yes.
Investigating now."
Airwolf arrives from the NCC
Central Hub to the north.
Airwolf has arrived.
Salt Water! The one true
nemesis of the Constructicon. After Fire Retardant Foam. And Squids! This squid
in particular has encountered something you don't normally see. Three green
fools waving their hands up and down, and making silly signs to each other.
This squid is some twenty metres tall, and native to New Zealand Oceans. The
squid is also very defensive, And takes those entering it's territory
seriously. It has eight tentacles and there are three opponents, he's got the
numbers at least. After wrapping a tentacle about Long Haul's foot, and
dragging it torward him, the other Green one approaches. Another tentacle wraps
about this ones waist, lifting him off the sea bed. Another one yet grabs his
gun, attempting to remove it, half out of identifying this as some kind of
weapon, but also out of curiosity.
Mixmaster has no idea what
is going on. The other constructs have optic visors, which would double
somewhat as goggles for htem, but Mixy has no such thing. He runs towards
whatever is attacking his brothers blind, and runs right into it. The squid is
knocked back as he runs into it, but quickly gains his composure, attempting to
ensnare the last of the aquatic constructicons. Mixmaster cries out and tries
to fight off whatever it is wrapping itself around him.
The water seeping into Long
Haul's left arm finally shorts out the Constructicon's circuitry, disabling the
limb utterly and resulting in the limp appendage being dragged across the ocean
floor. Realising he probably has little time before the rest of him becomes
completely useless, Long Haul does the only thing he can think of. He reaches
for something, anything, a rock, some coral, a fish, whatever is within his
grasping range and swings it as best he can at the squid. Take that, innocent
sea life!
Scrapper gets a squid
wrapped around him! Well, no problem there. Scrapper's a pretty strong fellow,
and a squid is just a fleshbag with a few more tentacles. Upon getting a good
look at the squid (good, but dark), Scrapper gasps! It's an overgrown fleshling
Quintesson out for revenge! Wow, this is JUST like that dream he had where
Scrapper is captured and... erm... nevermind. Scrapper holds onto his gun,
shoving it back into its holster. It's rippin' time. Scrapper reaches down to
his waist, grabs onto the tentacle, and starts pulling in two opposite
directions. Lets hope this isn't some kind of mutant, super squid that was
formed due to all the radiation and toxic goo NCC probably pumps out into the
water. He can only hope that he can defeat the evil doer before the salt water
seaps through his armour and short-circuits him like it's starting to do to
poor Long Haul.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Text: BY PRIMUS! It's a freaking squid. Oh for the love of..."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "TXT: no not tnt have 2 wrk. dstry fish things. see U l8r."
Galvatron falls even lower,
finally seeing the source of the noise. He makes a GURGLING noise which can
only be an underwater "NYARGH!". He lands on the floor of the ocean,
transforming into cannon mode. The barrel glows once, charging for underwater
fire. After it's warmup phase he begins to slowly take aim on the squid, a high
powered blast powering up. The whining noise is evident even under water. Oh
dear...it's getting ready for the big one.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "Txt: On my mark, fire at
where you see the final explosion of a cannon blast. Waiting for final targetting solution. I will give you the mark.
If this does not destroy it, drop charges when I signal the
constructicons are clear."
Modified F-15 circles back
to where galvatron submerged, sensors sweeping the ocean for signs of an
underwater explosion.
Airwolf listens to the
various communiques, though most of the participants are out of her view at
this point. Occupying herself with something useful, she pulls out a datapad
and starts scrolling through various medical procedures. "Liquid H20...
oxidizes untreated steel. Armor has to be either replaced, or if only a mild
case, completely stripped of paint, sanded down at least five centimeters,
sealed, and a new coat of paint applied. Sounds rather... painful."
The Squid is pretty damn
strong. Maybe it IS a mutant. Scrapper, Long Haul, and Mixmaster would know
little about aquatic life, so they wouldn't know if it was or wasn't. Oh well.
The tentacles are gradually sucked off from Scrapper, one-by-one. Just in time
for two more to be wrapped about his face, so he can't see Galv show up. The
squid is rained on by rocks, coral, seaweed, all sorts.. even a Technology
Manual Datascreen. How did that get down there? Oh well. And then something
else appears down on the ground. A nice orange glow. Did you ever see Finding
nemo? The fish with the bright light that lures Marlon Brando the fish and
Ellen the fish? Well, this squid is suffering the same thing, with the horrid
glow that builds up from Galvatron's cannon. He abandons the three brothers
entirely to swim over to the cannon. If someone doesn't have an optic visor
underwater, with a large cannon on their arms, there is a squid approaching him,
with a hungry look in his eye.
Mixmaster panics and flails
his arms about.. and then he panics. His nozzle pops out, and shoots out
whatever chemical he was working on. Dye! Black dye fills up the area about the
constructicons as Mixmaster panics. If anyone asks afterwards, Mixy will show
off his impressive earth biological skills by saying how squids shoot ink when
they are paniced.
Galvatron is equipt for
underwater travel. Hence the abilities "swim" and "dive".
He can see the squid approaching and smirks, "That's right. Come..."
he says, but it comes out as "Glubbblubber, glub bub!" The cannon
keeps glowing, and then...discharges directly at the squids face.
"YES!" The cannon transforms into robot mode, waiting, watching...for
the results. He sends out another text.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "TXT: If this hits, prepare
for your strike point."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
forgets to txt. "I'm picking up an oilslick near your 20. targetting that
."
<Decepticon> Mixmaster
bubbles urgently again.
Modified F-15 dives on the
water above the underwater battle. internal laser cannons open fire and straffe
at the 'oilslick' actualy mix's dye. underwater. pink laster bolts zap thru the
water, thier power drasticly reduced by the brine and defracted in all directions.
Scrapper can't see Galvatron
arrive, but he can hear (see?) Galvatron plotting his plots on the Decepticon
broadband. The Constructicon continues to thrash against the squid's tentacles
so he can break free and escape its clutches. And escape being shot up by the
Decepticon Commander 'by accident'. And then Galvatron and Ramjet start
shooting. Durnit.
Long Haul continues fighting
the squid as best he can, slamming his crude weapon against the tentacle as
best he can. When Galvatron's lite-brite act distracts the creature from it's
current prey without Long Haul's knowledge, the Constructicon picks himself up
and raises his rock in triumph, shouting 'I am invinci-' or
"Glub-Glub-Blub-Glu-!" in aquatic speak. Why doesn't he finish? Well,
that's because the water fries his stabilisers, and Long Haul quite literally
bends over backwards so that both his feet and head are touching the ocean
floor. It would be more painful if Long Haul weren't a machine.
Modified F-15 fires off a
long burst of laser fire into the dyeslick and then pulls up, jets blasting out
spray as he cust it close to the waves. He banks around hard, 4 engines
smoking, airbrakes popped out, wing down as he sets himself up for another
pass.
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "Did I get it? give me fire adjustment for a spread of
depthcharges."
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "TXT: Hold, waiting for
verification of my cannon blast."
Airwolf stares at the burst
of light beneath the surface and suspects fried calamari. Or is that boiled?
She makes a quick transmission to the techs in the medical ward, warning them
to set up for patients suffering from an overdose of H20. Deadly chemical,
that. Oh yes, she transmits an addendum about more standard repairs, in case
any of the fireworks connected with the unfortunate victims.
If Galvatron's shooting, it
might be best to warm up the ICU.
Modified F-15 curses to
himself and goes into a wide circle of the target zone, ready and waiting to
zoom in and attack anything at a moments notice.
The squid is pretty much the
tips of eight tentacles at this point. Way to go, Galvatron, did you enjoy
picking on an endangered species? He does, however, shoot out one final panic
shot of ink, before he's oblitterated in only the way that Galvatron can do.
Mixmaster is enshrouded in
black, and still has no idea what is going on here. He's barely concious that
all the blackness about him is his fault. Arms flailing attempting to get it
out of the way.. and it doesn't stop when a bright orange flash lights up the
mist all about him. It doesn't strike, but he panics some more. All that blind
flailing about of his limbs has got to have hit something by now, hasn't it?
Mixmaster strikes Long Haul
with Lime Green Fists!.
Scrapper lands back on the
ocean floor and starts running in a random direction thanks to the ink until
the salt water finally starts breaking through the armour chinks and starts to
slow down a la the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz when he didn't have his joints
lubricated. Scrapper finally comes to a halt, locked in place as sparks fly.
The Constructicon falls forward onto the ground in mid-stride.
Long Haul receives a hearty
smack from his chemically dependant comrade in arms, seeing as he's in hardly
any condition to avoid anything. Flopping over on his side, Long Haul's pride
is hurt more than anything, as water continues to wreak havoc on his systems.
Now, if he hadn't been the first one in the water, he might be the one knocking
Mixmaster's paralyzed form around.
<Decepticon> Galvatron
says, "TXT: Foe annhilated.
Ramjet, drop VTOL tow cables. I
have two constructicons that require hauling to the surface."
<Decepticon> Ramjet
says, "uh...VTOL? your confusing me with Thrust. standby."
Modified F-15 flys low over
the target co-ordinates...he drops a grapple claw, the steel cable spooling out
as it drops into the water. he flys over as slow as he can, the open claw
drarging the bottom for anything that will magneticly trigger it.
Modified F-15 's grappel
claw snag's scrapper first...it clanks shut around his ankle and wrenches him
along behind the jet...dragged along the ocean floor scrapper's head might
easily connect with any number of obstacles. rocks. coral. small octopi. half
burried pirate chests. other constructicons etc.
Galvatron grabs the cables
and shoots towards the damaged constructicons, attaching it to their bodies. He
shakes his head, and lets them decide how it effects them.
Scrapper is saved! Thank
you, Ramjet, for saving me from a fate worse tha- OW! Goddamn rock. The
Constructicon is dragged along the ocean against his will, and occasionally
hits things along the bottom. Thankfully, Scrapper is not terribly damaged
beyond the minor short-circuiting caused by the water.
Airwolf contemplates
offering to help, but tow lines and jets are a dangerous combination when her
rotors are added to the mix. Besides, it looks like Ramjet has it all under
control... one way or another.
Mixmaster is pretty well
kept from the water.. keeping his systems sealed from alien substances entering
them is pretty essential for him. But it's starting to seep in, all the same.
He has managed to thrash and wave the dye away.. and see's something kinda
purple through his optics. Uh.. what could that be? But he then sees another
green something being dragged about.. he races after Scrapper, trying to save
him from whatever sea beast has attacked him now. He leaps to land on his
brother. Sheesh, Mixy is such a hero! He probably ran away from Galvatron JUST
in time to prevent the cable being attached too.
Mixmaster succeeds in
grasping Scrapper, throwing him off-balance.
Modified F-15 drags scrapper
up onto the beach and releases the claw, dumping him unceremoniously at
airwolf's feet. then circles around for the others. with galvatrons help, they
too are snagged and dredges up out of the ocean, allong with a rusting and
barnacle covered cannon.
Long Haul's optic visor
flickers as the water damage threatens to completely shut his systems down in
order to protect them from further damage, and various warnings dance across
his vision. As Galvatron connects the cable to him, Long Haul makes a small
movement with his hand in an attempt to salute, but of course fails because his
arm is long dead. And off he goes, digging a large trench across the ocean
floor.
Modified F-15 dumps all 1 2
3 constructicons and the metal wreckage he picked up by mistake in a heap on
the beach...then circles back to see if galvatron needs help too. he doubts it
and retracts his grappel line so as not to accidently clamp onto galvatron
anywhere that would get him cannoned.
Galvatron floats to the top,
heading into the base. "Explain later. I require a recharge after an
underwater protected blast. Prepare a good explanation. It better be real
good."
The squid's atoms float
around in the water, still completely scattered across several dozen square
miles. Oh yeah, not even mutation can save that poor bastard.
Airwolf has the catch of the
day delivered to her? Commendations to Ramjet for great service! Now that she
has it, what to do with it. While not super-strong, she's a big girl, enough
that she can pick up the drip... er, the dripping Scrapper and toss him over
her shoulder for transport.
Scrapper gets dumped out
onto the docks, and by virtue of the water draining away from him, he's barely
able to move. Yay! "Mixmaster...." he says haltingly, "Long
Haul..." he rasps out. "You... two... are idiots." He finishes.
As he gets tossed over Airwolf's shoulder to be carted off with her, Scrapper
shakes his fist at the other two.
Mixmaster spits out water
from his vocaliser as it shrinks. Thankfully, it wsa only Headstrong who talked
like a pirate whenever he got water in him. "ExCUSE me? I was busy trying
to think of a way out of the mess that HE," pointing to long haul,
"Got us in, and you were intent on playing charades!"
Long Haul is dumped quite
unceremoniously onto the docks, completely limp, save for his one hand that
still has the ability to move 3 of its fingers. His vocaliser activates to all
these baseless accusations of idiocy and responsibility, "Me?! YOU were
th' one that tackled ME, ya lyin' little punk! I oughta..." Of course,
Long Haul knows he really can't do anything in his current condition, so he
flicks beads of water in Mixmaster's direction with his working fingers.
"And if you have of
done your job properly in the first place, I wouldn't have needed to taken
measures to discipline you! Now hurry up and see that your commanding officer
doesn't need any repairs, dammit!"
"Separate rooms?"
Airwolf murmurs to herself. It's the only way there will be any peace and quiet
in the med ward. In a more normal tone, she asks softly, "Ramjet, would
you mind helping to transport these mor... these Constructicons to the Med
Ward?"
The Modified F-15 suddenly
pulls up sharply. As it starts to stall, wings fold back and it's nosecone
rotates foward, transforming into the jetwarior Ramjet.
Long Haul is hefted up by a
trio of gumbies, who begin dragging the limp constructicon back to base.
"Maybe if ya didn't touch th' GPS, everythin' would be fine!" he
shouts back to Mixmaster.
Ramjet transforms and lands
on the beach. he stomps over to Mix and haul and grabs them by whatever
apendage is handy. like naughty kids he heaves them into the air and stomps
after airwolf, one in each hand. "Since you asked so nicely."
I'm going to refrain from
grilling her for details in reguards to this. Simply to prevent more ill
feeling."
"Thank you,
Ramjet," Airwolf replies and starts on her way to the Med Ward to hand
Scrapper over to those low-ranking techs anxious to impress their commander
with their efficiency. She'll have to recommend disabling his voicebox...
temporarily, of course. It's been exposed to water, after all, and might short
something else out.
*** MOVEMENT SPAM ***
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:
Airwolf
Scrapper's Art <SA> -
Thirteen Pieces
Gumby Medic <NCC>
Obvious exits:
South <S> leads to NCC Central Command.
Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Central Hub.
East <E> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.
Mixmaster arrives from the
NCC Central Hub to the southeast.
Mixmaster has arrived.
Ramjet arrives from the NCC
Central Hub to the southeast.
Ramjet has arrived.
Long Haul arrives from the
NCC Central Hub to the southeast.
Long Haul has arrived.
Ramjet hauls the other 2,
"where do you want them?" he dumps them on the floor before waiting
for an answer.
Mixmaster is walking in of
his own accord, thank you :P
Scrapper is carried in by
Airwolf. At least he's getting a free ride out of all this, so it's not a total
loss. "I hope... you know what you're doing," he mutters to Airwolf,
stuttering due to all the salt water in his systems.
Mixmaster continues to
bicker with Long Haul. He strides in of his own accord. "Oh, like THAT was
going to happen. 'Excuse me, Headstrong? Because my brother is such an
INCOMPETANT, you can't stomp about on the Despoiler.' 'Excuse me, Galvatron,
no, don't strike the wall. Yes, you're the leader, but Long Haul doesn't want
to do a job properly.'" He looks at Long Haul, as if he'd made his point.
Long Haul argues just as
much from his spot on the floor, completely ignoring the lack of respectful
treatment from the seeker. "It's not that at all, ya filthy liar! Ya
just... touched it wrong. The Achilles Heel s'what they call it here. Ya picked
the exact spot that couldn't be touched. Jerk!" Looks like Long Haul has
been reading up on some of Earth's legendary warriors...
Airwolf sets Scrapper on a
handy table. "Er, that'll be fine, thank you," she says to Ramjet.
The technicians can place the vict... the patients on the applicable tables.
She's not a medic herself, but she *is* an engineer and can supervise the work,
to a degree. A soft, murmured suggestion is made to one or more of the
technicians, something about voiceboxes. (Up to the victims as to whether or
not they'r silenced. ;) ). Reading her documentation, she notes, "First
step is to dry off as much of the water as possible. What about the paint
oven?"
Ramjet is not an engineer.
he leans against the wall by the door and folds his arms over his chest,
watching 'wolf work.
Scrapper listens to his
idiot brothers and shouts, "You idiots! You're BOTH the cause of this
insane problem, you psy- *SQUEAK*" Scrapper gets his voice module switched
off, but he continues to yell at the others silently. He's sure they'll get the
general gist of it all. The technicians, meanwhile, start cleaning out the
water.
"Jerk? You dare call
your leader a Jerk?" Mixmaster spits. "That TEARS it! Long Haul,
consider yourself grunted to Grunt Status! You lose all priveledges of the
Elite, and whatever, until you cease being a dumbaft and do the job
properly!"
"Ooh no! Not my
promotion! Why, that means I'll have ta go back ta luggin' boxes around!"
Long Haul pauses in mock thought, "Oh WAIT! That's ALL I do!" Long
Haul would fling his arms into the air if they still worked, "Primus! An'
ya wonder why I don't bother puttin' effort inta anythin'!?" Long Haul is
hefted up by several technicians, who immediately set to work shutting the
Constructicon transport up. Fzzt. There goes the ol' voicebox.
Mixmaster storms out of the ward, pissed off at his brother. Wow, Long Haul was rank 4 for all of a week, then, wasn't he?