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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 13, 2008 10:24:50 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron narrows his optics and murmurs quietly, "You might be surprised."
For one, he might just strap jet engines to his back. Enough thrust, and anything can break the sound barrier. Simple, no?
For another, if Swerve didn't determine the race track, he might suggest that the race be held on such nightmarishly broken terrain that anything without treads might as well just curl up and weep.
He follow Swerve up to the stage, noting that at least the spies seem to know how to handle an awards show, even if the Velocitronian doesn't.
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Post by Pee-Dee on May 14, 2008 21:01:58 GMT -5
"Remember, ladies and gentlemen, the longer you take, the drunker the Junkions will be by the time it's time for you to go home. Also, if you should feel like changing your attire, there is a magic dressing room through the rear doors."
Were there rear doors before Pee-Dee used her awesome microphone powers to broadcast that? Perhaps not.
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Post by Perceptor on May 21, 2008 10:06:47 GMT -5
Fascinated scientist is fascinated; a pocket reality which responds to the whims of, at the very least, the Junkions. This may take some experimentation to determine how far-reaching these effects are.
Oh dear. The scientist has a new toy. Well, at least once he passes out the awards, he'll be too intrigued with watching everything to expound upon his fascination. And, really, that's best for all, don't you think?
"Congratulations," he offers as the stage grows a little more crowded. As each approaches, he offers to shake their hand, and then presents them with an object that... had not been there a moment before, curiously enough.
Each water-clear, multi-faceted crystal is scaled to each receiver, with a base the size of the receiver's palm, that rises in a perfectly tapered spire to an equally perfectly tapered point. Encased in the center of each crystal is a flame shaped bit of energon that casts its glow all throughout the clear silicate matrix like a flickering torch.
Congratulations are extended once again, before Perceptor steps back to allow the recipients to address the audience, if they so choose, while he watches on with almost eager curiosity.
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Counterpunch
Minor
The Overlord, His Peerless Highness, Arch Duke Counterpunch. The Salient Vanquisher of His Own Mind
What're you looking at?
Posts: 419
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Post by Counterpunch on May 21, 2008 17:57:30 GMT -5
For a moment, Punch considers claiming he can't accept the award. After all, if that thing gets found in base, what would people think? But then he realizes he can just stash it somewhere here and not draw attention to himself on the stage.
This is all worked out before Perceptor gets to him, so once that happens he smiles graciously. "Thank you," he says smoothly while accepting the award.
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Post by Mirage on May 22, 2008 9:17:55 GMT -5
Mirage accepts his award with a warm, "Thank you," to Perceptor. Mirage then casts his optics toward the ceiling, and murmurs, "And I suppose thank you to whoever is running this bizarre little show." The spy still distrusts this situation, for all that he seems at ease.
Once the other winners have accepted their awards and said their piece, Mirage offers his arm to Punch, "Exit, stage left?"
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Counterpunch
Minor
The Overlord, His Peerless Highness, Arch Duke Counterpunch. The Salient Vanquisher of His Own Mind
What're you looking at?
Posts: 419
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Post by Counterpunch on Jun 1, 2008 18:23:19 GMT -5
Punch inclines his head to Mirage. "Certainly!" He takes the offered arm and exits the stage, attempting to return to obscurity.
OOC: Out of thread.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jun 2, 2008 18:53:57 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron smiles with gratitude, all the while questioning the true motives behind such a bizarre award show. He reaches to accept the trophy with one hand and shake Perceptor's hand with the other.
He says simply, eschewing a more complicated speech that might be expected of him, "Thank you."
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Post by Swerve on Jun 5, 2008 22:17:17 GMT -5
A scoff is all Swerve gives Xaaron in answer.
He doesn't even transform. How's he supposed to race me? …To the Pit with it. Swerve has to get through with this award thing and get back to his seat, out of the hot lights. Maybe he wouldn't be so put off by the affair if he was more accustomed to winning proper races. Never really won while he was on the legal circuits and winning doesn't come with much for pomp or glamour in the underground.
So his acceptance amounts to his flashing Perceptor a look that's both chagrined and sullen, mumbling something that might be a thanks, and awkwardly taking his trophy before vacating the stage.
OOC: Out.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jun 7, 2008 15:16:43 GMT -5
Being the last man standing is not desirable, here. Emirate Xaaron makes haste to be gone.
OOC: Out.
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