Carbombya

     The grassy hills and savannas in the east, bordered by ancient volcanos and sprawling lava fields, are the only part of Carbombya not made up of barren desert. Until recently, the country depended on meager livestock herding and subsistence agriculture, but upon the discovery of a huge reserve of very high-grade oil beneath the shifting desert sands, things changed radically. The struggling democracy weathered multiple coup attempts by greedy neighbors and other interested foreigners before finally succumbing to the tender mercies of a home-grown dictator. There are no refugees from war torn Ethiopia being taken in as slave labor, not here under the enlightened rule of President-for-Life Abdul Fakkaddi!

Contents:

Verdant

Fleet

CPT

Trypticon <T>

Carbombyan Palace

Obvious exits:

 East <E> leads to Red Sea.

 West <W> leads to Nile River.

Fly <Up>  

Fleet throws back his head and laughs very long. He labels himself a Survivlist, after all. "Yes yes, of course! Although I have always challenged that anyone who does survive proves, by this, that they are fit! Whether they do so by force, by wits, or by speed!"

Catechism is coming off a recharge cycle. Ah, after a good rest, she always feels so refreshed! Catechism actually looks like she's skipping. This looks a bit funny on her, but she's a bit of an odd creature. Catechism only looks normal compared to Mr. "Sweeps like me," Fleet and Dr. "I like plants," Verdant.

Fleet IS normal, dammit! Well, okay, Sweeps /do/ like him, but that's not his fault! He just happens to be oddly likable! He's also conversing with Verdant and occasionally taking the time to survey his surroundings, keeping an eye out for new potential vi- playmates. Hey, there's the Conehead! He leans over to Verdant and mutters something. He mutters to Verdant, "All... Verdant.... we... over... her,... her..."

Verdant offers Fleet a simple cant of his head to one side and wink to signify his agreement, a slightly devilish grin--looking utterly out of place on his usualaly serious features--on his face. And, of course, Verdant is anything /but/ normal, and he'd be the first to admit it.

Arachnae slips out of trypticon, but instead of traipsing to the open sands, she alights atop one of the spires that adorn the city, looking all the world like a neo classical fallen angel of sorts. Wings cant outwards, half spanning to lend further illusion that she's simply part of the surroundings. Save for the soft emerald glow of optics that narrow and seek out movement near the entrypoint to this, the base of operations.

Catechism really should pay more attention to her fellow Decepticons during social situations. Out of battle, she's rather oblivious at times. Well, Catechism's even oblivious in battle, but that's a more obvious flaw. She tilts her head, birdlike, and asks, "Why's he smiling like that?" Hey, maybe they have good news! Catechism likes good news.

Earthscorch emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Earthscorch has arrived.

Earthscorch enters the area heavily.

Fleet is smiling! He looks really, really happy. Actually, it's almost creepy how much he's smiling. He virtually glides in Catechism's direction, barely bothering to keep his feet on the ground, arms at his side. He continues smiling at Catechism. "Why, Catechism, my dear Conehead! Lovely day we're having!" He looks to Verdant. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of, absolutely, Fleet," Verdant says. The smile on the botanist's face seems slightly out of place, as does the more jovial tone, and yet he also seems quite convinced of what he's saying. "A fine day indeed. A fine time for many a thing."

Earthscorch wanders out of Trypticon, taking in his new surroundings. He looks like he could use a tune-up. He stops to watch the goings-on from a distance, for now.

Arachnae flexes her wings slowly, still looking for movement - Ahhh... there is some. Optics narrow behind her visor, a distinct predatory smirk creasing her face as she focuses downwards, watching the slowly gathering knot of seekers with curiousity and some interest. Then, more movement and she glances citywards, studying.. What.. ahhh... Smile crooks to the side, wings span out like the shroud of night's fall, cupping the air as she drops towards Earthscorch. Intention: startlement.

It's fairly hard to creep out Catechism, largely because she looks on the bright side. Make that the "Aiee, I just went blind!" side. Vaguely, all the smiling and cheer strikes her a bit odd; isn't that more her deal? But she doesn't really pay it any mind. Instead, she grins back, glances around, and agrees, "Yeah, it's a nice day! No sandstorms forecasted, another region of this mud ball to call our own, the Autobots stopped by silly little words..." Catechism could go on for quiet a while, and probably will, unless stopped.

Fleet lets Catechism go on for a /little/ while. Then he glances at Verdant and his smile turns suddenly to smirk. "NOW!" he shouts, raising his arms suddenly and peppering Catechism with blasts! But wait, what is this? They're so low power they do no damage at all. "Ha!" he shouts out happily.

You evade Fleet's grasp attack.

Earthscorch is intent on watching the apparent training excercise and hasn't even noticed Arachnae yet. He listens to Catechism's words and frowns, saying, "Silly little words? Is this what we've sunk to?" quietly to himself. Suddenly he catches a peripheral sight of Arachnae. He jumps a little, startled (as per the plan), then recovers his cool and addresses her. "Ah, Arachnae. I didn't see you..."

Perhaps quicker than one might generally expect the botanist to move, Verdant brings his own weapons up, a delightful look of glee set upon his features. It's one thing to be the victim, it's another to be the player. Incredibly non-lethal firepower errupts from his guns!

You evade Verdant's grasp attack.

Arachnae lands neatly, wings folding behind her as she grins warmly at Earthscorch. "That's alright." Her attention snaps over at the sound, if not the damage of weaponsfire being exchanged. A soft hiss... and she shakes her head, "Silly little words and lightshows evidently. I wonder what's gotten into those two."

Earthscorch crosses his arms and nods at Arachnae's words. "They seem like silly frivilous sorts. But I suppose so long as they're training there's no point in complaining. Is the transition to the new area going smoothly?"

Catechism is startled. Apparently, it's a nice day to get shot! But she automatically steps back and up, into the air, and half-turns. There's no thought, not that she thinks all that much otherwise unless she's got a real reason to. Her nigh-instinctive reaction is actually enough to get her out of the low-power shots. Unfortunately, this also means that she doesn't know those shots wouldn't have hurt. So, still not thinking too much, Catechism tries to tackle, as she doesn't want to fire any shots herself and get busted for infighting, Fleet - from her limited experience, despite the rot ray, Verdant is less of a threat - to the sand, growling, "What's the big idea, huh?"

Catechism succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Fleet is tackled to the ground, *whomphing* as he hits the sand. "Calm down! Calm down, Catechism! Those were too low-powered to do damage! See?" And with that he frees an arm and fires... at Verdant, who's standing near him, after all!

Fleet misses Verdant with his grasp attack.

Of course, proving that would require that Fleet actually hit him. While it would have been easy to allow himself to be hit, Verdant finds it funnier if he does not. "You," he says, waggling an accusatory finger at Fleet, "tried to /shoot/ me. Bad Fleet, bad." With that, he brought his own weapon up. "Don't worry, Cate... I'll save you from this beast!"

Verdant misses Fleet with his grasp attack.

Arachnae rests a hand on her hip, ticking talons softly, "For the most part. We're under treaty arrangements for this area so.. We're having to.. restrain some of our more natural urges." Optics narrow and dim, wings flick behind her, "However, this is a situation where we have actually seemed to look more for the long run than a short time achievement." Optics flicker as she watches Catechisms reaction to the suden peppering of light show stype weaponsfire. "Hmmm.. Methinks that one wasn't in on whatever joke hose two were." Sideways look at Earthscorch, "Think I should give'm a little scare of my own?"

Earthscorch smirks, keeping his optics on the others. "I think perhaps another surprise might be exactly what's needed here..."

Arachnae hmms, thinking her way through her mental list of tricksie things, "Well, for some odd reason I still have the tention cables from my old rotary systems." Pause as she checks something, "Ahh, and they're set up to launch as entanglement devices. A little added electricity.." OPtics glint, "Think that'd give them a little startle? Me sprouting calbes like some demonic entity?"

cables

Earthscorch fails to supress a chuckle. "I think I'd like to see for myself just how they would react to such a thing..." His smirk widens.

Fleet remains on the ground and emits a soft, electronic sound that sounds somewhat akin to a sigh, his head tilting upwards for just a second as he shakes his head. "No, Catechism, we haven't. In fact, I'd dare say running around with our weapons on low power for a bit while we're off-duty is QUITE a bit saner than some of the things we do for fun... like, say, storm tag?"

"Oh, most certainly," Verdant agrees amiably. He knows well the dangers of storm tag and, in fact, had a serious talking to about it from Scrapper on "stupid seeker things." He cants his head to one side. "We are most certainly sane," he says. "Well, about as sane as we can be."

"I'm perfectly sane!" snaps the pastel yellow seeker as he begins to pull himself up. "It's the rest of the Empire that's miss-clocked!"

Arachnae laughs softly to herself, optics slitting as mischiviousness crosses her features. Wings shift behind her, half spanning as small ridges of armoring along forearms, flank and shoulders pivot to reveal small recesses. A grin flashed to Earthscorch and she sidesteps, begining her quiet stalk of the trio of seekers.

"You, my dear Fleet," Verdant says, chuckling and using what might best be called a "talking to small children" tone of voice, "are /far/ from sane. Not that I, I suppose, have much room to talk. If /anyone/ here is sane, it's Catechism here. Certainly, her sunny dispoisition suggests greater sanity than either of us possesses."

Catechism straightens up and shakes the sand off herself. She waves dismissively and says, "Storm tag serves to actually test our skills. Low powered shots don't do much of anything, except maybe test our reflexes. Still..." Catechism looks pensive for a moment. Walls. Buckets. Kettle. Pot. Black. "Oh, have fun, you two. I've got patrol." With that, she transforms and heads off.

Catechism transforms into her alternate mode: a F-35, Marine Corps variant. Her feet flip up against her shins, her nosecone rotates through her body and out in front where it belongs, her arms tuck into her torso, and her wings rotate into position.