Lost City

 

     The island interior consists of still more dark basalt, but in strange, almost alien structures. Huge, multi-ton hexagonal columns also made of basalt are piled in criss-cross patterns to form rough, 15-meter walls. Inside the outer wall, the ground is flat, serving as the foundation for massive tombs, temples, and palaces, all with strangely-upturned corners that resemble ships more than buildings. Most of these have collapsed, not from the constant rumbling and frequent eruptions from the nearby Mount R'Lyeh, but from sheer age. Atop the tallest standing building is a huge gray monolith, pitted from the erosion of uncounted ages. From the crushed shells underfoot and the powdery remnants of long-decayed seaweed, it can be theorized that this city was once underwater.

 

Contents:

Fulcrum

Trypticon <T>

The Powerbase

Sensor4

Obvious exits:

 North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

 Cliff <C> leads to Rocky Beach.

Fly <Up> 

 

Scrapper is currently hard at work on the framework for the skyline that's going to eventually connect Trypticon up to the Command Centre of New Crystal City. Most of the gumbies that were originally helping him have been shuffled over to work on Fulcrum's project (at the moment is more important to get the Command Centre working rather than get the skyline that will connect to the non-existant Command Centre) or Scavenger's Stuntiship (Scrapper needs that done so he can get Scavenger's help on this project). Perched up high on the framework, Scrapper welds various bits of the dull metal together, thankful that the last mission was such a success, and that a whole lot of resources have been brought in.

 

Vulcan emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Vulcan has arrived.

 

Vulcan flares his wings as he takes a small graceful leap. Bending backwards in half his legs fuse, body reconfiguring until the small cruiser balances there, seemingly to be in motion even while standing still.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet soars upward into the sky.

Swing-wing Flare Jet has left.

 

The shell of the new Command Center is almost complete, a double skeleton of beams archig up and over in hexagonal shapes to create a geodesic dome. Currently, the gumbie troops are welding the huge armor plates to the shell, while some drag strange hegagonal basalt from what remains of the lost city, to be installed in the Center. Others are just goofing off. Fulcrum stalks in amongst the workers, trying to look like he's damn well in command.

 

Scrapper finishes the final welding job and looks down at his one assistant on the project, who gives him an idiotic smile and a big thumbs up sign. The fools are copying the flesh bags. How disturbing. Shaking his head, Scrapper awkwardly hovers off of his high perch and lands on the ground near Fulcrum. His one gumby follows him, whistling to himself. The framework of the skyline almost reaches the shell of the New Command Centre. "Fulcrum. How much longer until the hook-up for the skyline and the Command Base will be ready?" he grumbles.

 

"No, you idiot! There! See! The column's position is clearly marked!" Fulcrum growls at a gumbie, who just shrugs. Turning to face Scrapper, Fulcrum's scowl quickly fades as he realises that it's not another gumbie come to bug him with trivia, but the MSE commander. "That all depends" he replies. "Construction may have to be paused while I rewire several of the worker's cores to function at above 0.2 percent."

 

Scrapper glances over at the gumby and grunts. He knows all too well how stupid and annoying they can be. Why, it almost makes you think that the Decepticons are just a bunch of brain-dead morons who live only to fight with the sole exception of about two or three Decepticons who like fighting /and/ building stuff. "What's the estimated time to completion, then?" he asks. His own gumby whistles a cheerful tune to himself as he looks around blankly. Scrapper winces.

 

Fulcrum shrugs, and gives a quote that seems a little bit too long. In ASTRO seconds no less. In the background, Kitbash the medical gumbie is talking animatedly with a group of workers, trying to convince them to make radical alterations to the plans.

 

<Earth> Vulcan says, "Human News Flash:  Reports from a small town in New York state that their junkyard is under attack by what has been identified as a Gundam Eypon, repainted red and white!  Reasons remain unclear but it appears to be a supply raid of sorts"

 

Scrapper gives a pained look and shakes his head, "Not blasted soon enough. Get this rabble moving faster. I want the Command Centre ready for the hook-up in twenty eight billion astro seconds!" Like, before the week is out or something. He shakes his head and ponders for a moment before opening up his radio frequency.

 

<Decepticon> Scrapper says, "Dirge! I need some of your Seekers for Construction. At least eight more. Preferably some of the less idiotic ones. They have to be able to hold a laser torch without setting their head on fire..."

 

Dirge emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Dirge has arrived.

 

<Decepticon> Vulcan says, "Sorry, but I'm otherwise occupied, Scrapper, but I will be back soon."

 

Dirge drops Crapshoot.

Dirge drops Joker.

Dirge drops Roulette.

Dirge drops Snake Eyes.

Dirge drops Blackjack.

 

Lost City

 

     The island interior consists of still more dark basalt, but in strange, almost alien structures. Huge, multi-ton hexagonal columns also made of basalt are piled in criss-cross patterns to form rough, 15-meter walls. Inside the outer wall, the ground is flat, serving as the foundation for massive tombs, temples, and palaces, all with strangely-upturned corners that resemble ships more than buildings. Most of these have collapsed, not from the constant rumbling and frequent eruptions from the nearby Mount R'Lyeh, but from sheer age. Atop the tallest standing building is a huge gray monolith, pitted from the erosion of uncounted ages. From the crushed shells underfoot and the powdery remnants of long-decayed seaweed, it can be theorized that this city was once underwater.

 

Contents:

Blackjack

Snake Eyes

Roulette

Joker

Crapshoot

Dirge

Fulcrum

Trypticon <T>

The Powerbase

Sensor4

Obvious exits:

 North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

 Cliff <C> leads to Rocky Beach.

Fly <Up> 

 

<Decepticon> Blot says, "Blot can set jets' heads on fire for you."

 

<Decepticon> Scrapper coughs. "Blot, your mission is to go get the metal that Abominus threw into the ocean last week."

 

<Earth> Vulcan says, "*picture of a white-winged, red armored mech with blood red Decepticon logos carefuly tossing metal cars into the back of a large procured truck in them iddle of a junkyard."

 

<Earth> Scrapper idly wonders if the Bots are going to A) try and stop Vulcan B) Laugh their asses off that we're stealing from junkyards.

 

<Earth> Vulcan  is ICly hoping for the second, cause at least we got what we want and I don't need repairs ;)

 

<Earth> Scrapper prays nobody tells Omega what most of the new Crystal City is made of.

 

<Decepticon> Blot says, "Blot can do that!"

 

<Decepticon> Blot says, "*Splash* BLOT NO CAN SWIM! BLOT DROWNING!"

 

Dirge steps off the ramp from Trypticon followed by a quintet of Decepticon Seekers, Elite Style. He motions for the Seekers to report to Fulcrum and makes his way over towards Scrapper.

 

Crapshoot leads the group, proudly strutting. He looks at Fulcrum and says, "Just give me a nail gun, Fulcrum! I'm ready to help!" Joker smirks and pokes his head over Crapshoot's shoulder, "Only if you blindfold yourself while doing it, Craps!" Blackjack and Snake Eyes stand behind them and fold their arms, each one shaking their heads at the pair, and Roulette inspects his weapons, rolling the chamber idly.

 

Fulcrum inwardly groans. Oh good, it's the elite seeker moron patrol. He wonders how he can allocate jobs without having these 5 DESTROY the project.

 

<Earth> Vulcan says, "*video cam, which looks like its being shot by a news crew, shows the mech turning towards it.  He focuses on it, head tilted, then he bows to it with a smirking, laughing smile.  "So much for protecting the humans, eh, Autobots?" he laughs in a suave voice as he picks up a last bit of Debris.  Then he lifts into the air, using some hooks to lift the truck. The camera follows, but then there's a blinding flash of light, similar to the white light o a nuclear explosion that overpowers and burns out the camera's lense.  There's a scream from whoever was holding the camera and a hissing sound before the signal cuts out."

 

Scrapper doesn't seem to care. It's Fulcrum's problem, not his. But of course, Fulcrum will be blamed if something goes wrong. God bless the Decepticon Command Structure! The Constructicon looks over towards Dirge and folds his arms. Ah, these must be the Seeker idiots that he requested. He eyes them all, as if he can tell how stupid they are just by looking. Amazingly, in this case, he pretty much can.

 

Dirge takes Scrapper aside, grabbing the Concstructicon firmly by the arm and leading him away. From there, Dirge begins to mutter towards Scrapper, He mutters to Scrapper, "... I require... be... the... special project I am... I... -these-... a... do... Constructicons... the... I... forth..."

 

You sense Dirge takes Scrapper aside, grabbing the Concstructicon firmly by the arm and leading him away. From there, Dirge begins to mutter towards Scrapper, "...Scrapper... I require several Constructicons be withdrawn from the project for a special project I am working on. If I give you... -these-... for a week, do you think your Constructicons can complete the job I have set forth for them?"

 

Blackjack speaks up, "Don't mind Crapshoot, Fulcrum. He's upset that he missed the raid last week. Joker was leading our party... and we got lost." The black Seeker's optics burn. Joker merely smiles and slyly replies, "Hey, I toldja we shoulda taken that left turn at Alberquerue, but NOBODY listens ta me! HAHA!" Snake-Eye merely watches the group and Roulette responds, "Can we just get this over with? I'm not really interested in performing construction work. I'd rather be playing cards with Swindle..." Crapshoot turns his head to Roulette, "...But you both cheat..." "...What's your point?"

 

Scrapper hesitates before letting Dirge drag him away. Why can't the Military Commander just tell him in the open? The Constructicon doesn't bother thinking about why not. He grunts as he listens to what Dirge has to say and frowns deeply. "Well what's the project you need them for, anyway? I need to know so I don't assign the wrongs ones to you." In truth he just wants to know out of curiousity. But he is correct. The Constructicons do have their specialities.

 

Dirge continues to speak to Scrapper aside, "I require Constructicons capable of mixing the chemicals stolen into high explosives, and then setting them up under the infrastructure of Des Moines and create a controlled explosion such that it creates this..." He unfolds a piece of paper with a map of Des Moines on it and the Decepticon symbol on it. He hands Scrapper a pad. "This is Galvatron's approval of the project," he utters in his mournful tone, glaring at Scrapper as if daring him to refute the claim.

 

Scrapper sighs and looks at the map. He doesn't even bother to look at the pad. Dirge is many things, but he is not stupid enough to lie about having Galvatron's approval. "Fine, fine. I'll get Mixmaster and Bonecrusher on this right away." He pauses as he considers who else he should add. Who shall he punish. Ahhhh yes. "And Hook as well, just to oversee the project." Sucker. He smiles inwardly and crosses his arms. Mixmaster will be a loss, but he hardly needs Bonecrusher or Hook for a while.

 

Fulcrum points at Crapshoot, then at Blackjack. "You and you. Go over there, smack Kitbash over the head, and assist those morons.." he points to a group of gumbies sitting around next to a hexagonal basalt column, "..in placing that support correctly. They should have the plans on them, just take one of their datapads" There, that should be safe enough. Crapshoot can't miss with a huge pile of rock.. can he?

 

Dirge stares icily at Scrapper for an eternity and then finally nods slowly. "...So long as they do the job," he intones. He stares once more at Scrapper, as if contemplating the Constructicon's existence and then slowly turns to leave.

 

Scrapper looks back at Dirge's stare, blinking for a moment. He opens his mouth since Dirge seems to be waiting for something more, but finally the Seeker speaks in his unwavering manner. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry. They'll do the job." he promises, turning away and heading back towards Fulcrum. "If they don't, you can kick 'em around a bit." He catches the orders Fulcrum gives to Crapshoot and Blackjack. The Force is strong with this one.

 

Crapshoot and Blackjack look at one another. Crapshoot claps his hands. "...Yay!" Blackjack looks at Crapshoot. "....Ah, crap." "What?" "I wasn't talking to you!" "But you said my..." "Nevermind!" Angrily, the black Seeker heads over with Crapshoot to assist in the work. Joker shakes his head and looks at Fulcrum. "And how about me, Fulcrum?" he says, grinning like a mad man. Roulette and Snake Eyes continue to hang in the background.

 

<Decepticon> Vulcan says, "... I will need... an escort over the ocan I think, fellow decepticons *voice sounds strained*"

 

<Decepticon> Scrapper says, "I'm busy."

 

<Decepticon> Vulcan says, "I have a large load of metal..."

 

<Decepticon> Blot says, "Blot busy drowning, go away."

 

Fulcrum ponders. Joker is.. disruptive. Just then Vulcan's plaintitive request sounds across channel. "Joker" he states. "Assist Vulcan." There. Two problems solved.

 

<Decepticon> Dirge transmits, "...According to Ratbat, the energy required to transport you and your metal outweight the metals and your own worth.  He has therefore denied your request."

 

<Decepticon> Vulcan says, "I require only escort, not a lift..."

 

Joker blinks. "...Well sure! I'll be right back! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He jumps into the air, transforming and rocketing skyward. Leaving the two other Seekers staring at Fulcrum for work.

 

        Joker leaps into the air, transforming into an F-15 jet.

 

Scrapper glances at Joker for a moment. In his mind, Joker's Seeker form idly shifts and transforms into that of a chair. Scrapper smiles at the happy happy thought. When his imagination fades, Joker's already gone and headed to help out Vulcan. Ah well, the extra supplies would be nice. And it's best Joker doesn't disrupt anything.

 

Fulcrum hopes Joker takes his time. Turning from the departing idiot to the last two Seekers, he hmms. "Snake Eyes. Scan the completed parts of the Command Center fro weaknesses and flaws. I want detailed readings. Here," he states, throwing a scanner at the Seeker, who he personally wouldn't trust to push a Big Red Button. "Just point and scan."

Modified F-15 has arrived.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet has arrived.

 

Modified F-15 heads back to the metal construction, following the flarejet closely, his grappel line helping to carry the heavy cargo of scrap.

 

Dirge was discussing things with Scrapper, but is now heading towards Trypticon's main entrance.

 

Fulcrum is ordering some gumbies about, as well as the "Elite" Seeker squadron.

Swing-wing Flare Jet is also hauling along the truck, and looks like a paper mache toy after someone takes a BB gun to it. In other words: Not good. Even now small bits of titanium metal slick with black fluid tumbles off his frame on occasion "Warning to those below... incoming truck." He radios to all as he signals Ramjet to release his grappling hook as the flare jet does so, to hopefully land the truck in an unoccupied part of the island.

 

Modified F-15 does'nt release his line, Just TF's the steel cable still connected to the cargo. He grips it in both hands and with foot and wing thrusters straining, lowers it down into a clear space, making sure it does'nt damage anything important.

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.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet circles down slowly, obviously just barely hanging in there as he circles down lower and lower. "This may hurt a bit..." he murmers, then flies away from the island, before carefully turning away, coming down towards the water...

 

*SPASH* *SPASH*SPASH*SPASH*... the flare jet hits the waves, using the water to break his speed where his body fails, until he 'gently' crunches up against the beach... which prompltly knocks him unconcious.

 

Fulcrum watches the landing. Yet more work for MSE. Great.

 

Ramjet lands with a metalic crunch ontop of the now safely landed cargo. He looks down at the wrecks as he detatches and recoils his grappel line. "Seems like a lot of trouble for this junk. Are'nt there closer places we could have gotten some primitive auto-parts from?"

 

"Someone drag that jet back to med-bay" Fulcrum intones. "We have work to do." He wonders what the rusted auto-parts will be good for, but figures Scrapper can work that one out.

Dirge turns towards Ramjet and Vulcan as they land, the Seeker's optics blazing. He quiet approaches them both as they land, and fixes them both with icy stares. After a moment of discomfort for the two, Dirge finally speaks, "...I agree, Ramjet. It does seem to be a wasted effort." He swivels his head back to Vulcan and holds up his arm slowly at Fulcrum's orders, a signal to belay the order for the moment. He continues to stare at Vulcan.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet can't really respond to the glare, being unconcious right now.

 

Ramjet stepps off the scrap pile and walks past dirge. "Good job I was closeby." aparently he's done all the dragging he's going to do today as he makes no effort to help Vulcan further. "I'm gonna refuel." He trudges towards the base.

 

Fulcrum shrugs. If Dirge doesn't want him repaired, that's fine.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet just sits there on the beach. Talk about gratitude for his hard work huh?

 

Dirge allows Ramjet to walk past him, and continues to stare at Vulcan. After a moment's contemplation, he swivels his head in the CMO's direction. "...Repair him, but do not make him fully operational. He is grounded until I say otherwise..." He glares at the other Seekers assisting the repairs, making sure they all get the message. And with that, he kicks Vulcan's unconscious form. The Seeker commander then turns and begins to walk towards the lift.

 

Swing-wing Flare Jet is hauled into the base.

Swing-wing Flare Jet has left.

Swing-wing Flare Jet passes through the gates to enter Trypticon.

 

Fulcrum flicks a glance at Kitbash. "You heard Dirge. Deal with him." He pauses. "And NO new color schemes."

 

Roulette pulls out his weapon. "I got it," he responds and narrows the barrel on his weapon. "Let's see. Torch... torch..." The Seeker rolls the chamber of his weapon around and randomly picks one. He aims it in the air and pulls the trigger. *BRATATATATATA* Machine gun fire comes from it. "...That's not it..." He rolls the chamber again and pulls the trigger. A spark of flame spouts out, which should be a full flame thrower. "Ah, there we go..." He begins to help with the welding. Joker and Snake Eyes sit in the background, Joker trying to get Snake Eyes to crack a smile.

 

Fulcrum gives Snake Eyes a hard look. "Didn't I give you an order?"

 

Snake Eyes nods succinctly to Fulcrum and bowls stiffly, before picking up a scanner and beginning to do his job. That leaves... Joker. "And what about me, Cuddles?" he smiles at Fulcrum.

 

"You..." Fulcrum begins, thinking fast. "You drag that truck over to the other supplies. Alone."

 

Joker aws and says, "Well, okay, Sweetums. You know how I don't like us to fight in front of the kids! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Joker heads over towards the truck and pulls it towards the other supplies, whistling a tune.

 

Fulcrum looks around at one of the gumby crews who have taken advantage of the distraction to slack off. "It is not" he grinds, "break time yet. Get back to work!"

 

Everyone works and works for Fulcrum. Suddenly, from where Fulcrum had sent Crapshoot and Blackjack, there are shouts of "Look out!" and several other cries, as gumbies run from everywhere. The column falls and strikes the ground, shattering as it does so. As the dust settles, Blackjack sits there, his face in his hands, and Crapshoot looking at the column and where it was suppose to be placed. "...Musta been a micron off..." "Try several yards, Craps," mutters Blackjack in a 'shoot me now' voice.

 

Fulcrum's frown deepens into a scowl, his optics flashing white. "You.." he growls, trudging over to Crapshoot with heavy footfalls. "Those columns were PERSONALLY requested by Lord Galvatron.. there are VERY few intact ones remaining.. and YOU have just broken one" Fulcrums face is now inches from Crapshoot's, and an interesting shade of Pissed Off.

 

Crapshoot waves his pad in front of Fulcrum and says, "The plans must be faulty. I followed them exactly..." Behind Fulcrum, Blackjack is making 'no' gestures behind Crapshoot to little avail.

 

Scrapper is back! Yes, he's been working steadily on the skyline that's going to connect the unfinished Command Centre to Trypticon. When the city transforms to Battle Mode, the skyline will sink into the ground. But for right now it just looks like the framework of a plane ol' skyline, although granted a pretty darn nice looking one. He doesn't even spare the others a glance, as he's far too buried in his own work. His expression is that of annoyance, frustration, and fatigue. Yep, he's in heaven right now with this project. Crapshoot should be happy Scrapper did not hear that last comment.

 

Fulcrum's face freezes. "Oh" he states, extreeeeemly calmly. "Yes, you're quite right. I'll just check the plans again..." He turns his back on Crapshoot and makes a motion as if to check a datapad. But when he spins around again, it's not plans he's holding, but his warhammer, which is swinging directly for Crapshoot's face."

 

*KRANG* Full connect. Crapshoot blinksblinks. "...Bartender, cut that man off." And then he crumbles to the ground in a heap. Joker busts out laughing and the other three Seekers shake their head.

 

Fulcrum scowls at Joker. "Stop laughing and get to work." He nudges the fallen Crapshoot with his boot. "And someone drag him out of the way. He'll come round eventually."

 

Scrapper hovers awkwardly off of his high location along the frame of the skyline and wobbles as he touches down on the top of Trypticon. He smirks and strides along the base's roof to the edge. In order to successfully have Trypticon connect to New Crystal City, a few holes are going to have to be cut in the terrifying base. Lets hope he doesn't mind.

 

Gumbies resume their work. Joker shakes his head and works, with the occassional snicker here and there, a huge grin on his face. Dirge's player idles to do some coding.