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Post by Long Haul on Nov 29, 2010 15:00:31 GMT -5
"Well, he seems t'be calmin' down, at least," Long Haul observes as he finishes the last of the knots. He sees just how much Perceptor seems to have relaxed into it, and adds, murmuring, "Er. A lot." And then Perceptor whimpers slightly. "Er, maybe not," Long Haul adds, checking to make sure the bonds aren't doing any damage. Finally, assured that they're not, Long Haul steps back.
"Like I said, I ain't got any containment fields or anything for him, so we're probably all gonna just have to go through decon when we get back tot he Event Horizon, Skyfire included." Then he transforms, adding, "Like Mayday would let us get away with anything else," with a snort.
"Whelp, go ahead and load 'im up. Mind the other supplies back there," and indeed, those supplies did re-appear as he transforms. "They should be secured to each other, but it's still set up so I can slide 'em out when I dump 'em. Didn't get to complete my trip, though, so there should still be plenty of room for you guys."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Nov 29, 2010 15:28:57 GMT -5
There is, for some cultural reason, a difference between beating the slag out of someone in a gladiatorial event and doing it on the battlefield. That's entertainment for you.
Emirate Xaaron stoically endures Perceptor's sudden touchy-feely tendency, wishing Mirage was here. This is clearly a job for Mirage.
Once Long Haul has transformed, he tries to wrestle Perceptor into the back of the dump truck, on top of the boxes of supplies.
Then, he offers Swerve a hand up, explaining, "You can keep working on Perceptor and monitor his status while Long Haul drives."
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Post by Swerve on Nov 30, 2010 17:59:09 GMT -5
Swerve keeps out of the way, collecting his tools and kit, while Long Haul and Xaaron negotiate getting Perceptor loaded up. Only once that's done with does Swerve take the hand Xaaron extends and pull himself up after the others. Another good reason to go last is he gets a little more setup distance than he would have otherwise. Perceptor's being impossibly weirder now with all the squirming and unusual noises. Swerve tries to ignore that while he settles in to see what else he can do about the situation before they get back to the ship.
"Lucky me," he mutters, repeatedly looking away from his tools to double-check that Perceptor isn't reaching for him with those cold fingers again.
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Post by Perceptor on Nov 30, 2010 21:41:17 GMT -5
Perceptor cannot reach for you, Swerve; his hands are bound securely behind his back, and he's lying on his side, facing the wrong way, to boot.
The world is all tangled up in robotic plant limbs and shifting colors as the morphobot lifts and twists him up into a careful cradle amongst its leaves. Perceptor shivers again, more of those soft sounds escaping him as he rubs his cheek against the gold and silver branch of the morphobot that he is curled up within. "Warm..." he murmurs, curling himself closer to that central core of living golden heat. He is warm and safe and the sharks can no longer reach him here as long as he lets the morphobot keep him tangled up in it's hold.
"Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch, who watches over you. Make a little birdhouse in your soul..." he murmurs, watching an octopus fly languidly by his head, waving a pink parasol with frilly, lacy trim. "Wake up and smell the cat food in your bank account, but don't try to stop the tail that wags the hound."
ooc: Perceptor's comments shamelessly ripped from They Might Be Giants songs.
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Post by Long Haul on Nov 30, 2010 21:55:18 GMT -5
Once everyone's on board, Long Haul asks, "All secure?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he starts driving.
Long Haul isn't a great host.
Fortunately, Long Haul doesn't drive fast. Mostly because he can't. So he just trundles at general Long Haul pace towards the space port, where Skyfire awaits.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Nov 30, 2010 22:13:31 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron has put himself in a position to make sure that Perceptor stays put, but he'll be the first one to fall out of the dump truck if something goes awry. Emirate Xaaron doesn't have much concern for his own personal safety in times of crisis. So of course he confirms, sounding rather resigned, "Quite, Long Haul."
Does Perceptor have to curl up against him like that? It's not that Emirate Xaaron minds the tactile contact, and it's better than Perceptor going off about how he is the spacebridge, he is the spacebridge and he cannot transform, and there is no saving him now, but this whole tableau just looks really, really awkward. Emirate Xaaron's not trying to ruin Perceptor's reputation, honestly!
He comments mostly to himself, as none of the present Autobots tend towards diplomatic problem solving, "I should talk to people who know people and see Oil Slick banned from every purveyor of chemicals on this here planet." Emirate Xaaron even absently pushes a fist into his own palm. Pz-Zazz is getting to him?
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Post by Swerve on Dec 3, 2010 21:16:00 GMT -5
If Xaaron does something stupid like try to fall off the truck, Swerve will grab him and haul him back in. No way is the old buzzard leaving Swerve alone with Perceptor.
Especially not since even having his arms tied doesn't deter Perceptor from doing bizarre things like rubbing his thigh against Swerve's when the racer moves in close to hook up a diagnostic scanner. Swerve curses, only just stopping himself from kicking Perceptor full in the face.
"If he doesn't knock that smelt-slag out so I can do my fraggin' job," Swerve growls, "I'm knocking him out!"
OOC: Posing of Perceptor with player okay.
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Post by Perceptor on Dec 4, 2010 0:56:16 GMT -5
"Take Merlin's wand away!" Perceptor agrees, nodding. And, not so incidentally, rubbing his cheek against his Morphobot with a little humm of contentment. "Lock his tools into stone with the dragon's breath, and listen to him wail!" " Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, do chél dénmha!1" he intones in a low chant, repeating it over and over and ov-- "You rang?" Perceptor cranes his head up, trying to peek over Swerve's eerily lit-from-within form, finally spotting the massive dragon lifting its head up to peer down at him with a look of amusement. The dragon lifts a golden claw and combs it through his flowing whiskers as a lick of fire curls out from his nostrils, trailing a curl of smoke in its wake. "I don't eat robots, you know. I hope that's not what you were planning on asking for." "Oh," Perceptor replies, staring upward into the dragon's sapphire eyes. "Good. Then my morphobot is safe. Can you please make the sky stop melting, then? It's terribly gauche. The flagellates don't like the marshmallow rain, you know. It smooshes them." 1: quoted from the movie "Excalibur" - Merlin's Charm of Making. Information for the Charm of Making can be found here.
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Post by Long Haul on Dec 4, 2010 9:05:44 GMT -5
While Long Haul isn't in a position to see what's going on, between what he can hear and all the wriggling he can feel, he can certainly tell that things remain... weird back there. However, at this point, there's little he can do beyond drive faster, and he's pretty limited as far as that goes, too.
He speeds up marginally, because marginally is all he can, and admits, "I'm, er, trying to get us there as fast as I can, guys. Sorry 'bout this."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 4, 2010 10:45:32 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron wouldn't try to fall off the truck. He just happens to be moving around on a moving vehicle. Given that Perceptor is drawing threats from Swerve yet again, Emirate Xaaron tries to reach one hand down to hold Perceptor by the knees and stop those shenanigans, even as Perceptor rubs up against him. Inscrutably, Emirate Xaaron mutters, "If not Mirage, we need to find Perceptor a beau for this nonsense."
Perceptor's high again because he got into a feud with some Decepticon or Predacon or Vehicon chemist? Call Perceptor's significant other! Though really, what they need is...
"...no, actually, we need Holi to do some sessions on medical crisis response." That's a bit more logical.
Emirate Xaaron tries to give Long Haul's sidewall a pat with his other hand, and he encourages, "You're doing what you can, Long Haul."
Last thing they need is Long Haul suddenly angsting about being slow.
He sighs and looks down at Perceptor, making a perplexed face, and he says gently, "Merlin? Uhm, a small falcon?" That's what his lexicon says. "I'm not sure what Airazor has to do with this," and Emirate Xaaron really does not speak Old Irish. Old Autobot? Probably. Old Irish? No.
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Post by Swerve on Dec 7, 2010 11:22:02 GMT -5
Wondering how effective a good, loud growl and glaring will do if Perceptor thinks he's on fire, Swerve mutters yet more unmentionable things – this time primarily speculation on and denigration of Oil Slick's factory, manufacturer, build line, assembly, design, and materials – as he sets to work fully locking down Perceptor's weapons systems. Once he finishes that, he can get started on figuring out whether or not Perceptor just needs his fuel flushed or if this is a bigger job.
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Post by Perceptor on Dec 7, 2010 21:54:27 GMT -5
The dragon snickers and nods. "I'll see what I can do," he intones, and then dives back into the world, snagging a tasty landshark to snack on along the way. Sadly, "seeing what he can do" either will take time, or he was merely humoring Perceptor, because the sky continues to bubble and melt and bleed in shimmering, florescent colors. "01001001 01100011 01101000 01101111 01110010 00100000 01110011 01101011 01111001 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101011 01100101 01110011 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01101111 01110000 01110100 01101001 01100011 01100001 01101100 00100000 01110011 01100101 01101110 01110011 01101111 01110010 01110011 00100000 01100001 01100011 01101000 01100101 00101110 00101110 00101110" 1 he whines, hiding his face in Xaaron's lap. Xaaron? Wait, wasn't his Morphobot there not too long ago? Oh, wait, nevermind. There it is. He must have been seeing things. He softly begins to sing to himself, now that the dragon has slithered away and Burning Justice(tm) Swerve is still muttering angrily at him. "4e 69 6e 65 74 79 2d 6e 69 6e 65 20 62 61 72 72 65 6c 73 20 6f 66 20 66 75 65 6c 20 6f 6e 20 74 68 65 20 77 61 6c 6c 2e 2e 2e 20 6e 69 6e 65 74 79 2d 6e 69 6e 65 20 62 61 72 72 65 6c 73 20 6f 66 20 66 75 65 6c 2e 2e 2e 20 74 61 6b 65 20 6f 6e 65 20 64 6f 77 6e 2c 20 70 61 73 73 20 69 74 20 61 72 6f 75 6e 64 2e 2e 2e 20 73 68 6f 6f 74 20 4f 69 6c 20 53 6c 69 63 6b 20 72 69 67 68 74 20 69 6e 20 74 68 65 20 68 65 61 64 2c 20 69 66 20 79 6f 75 20 70 6c 65 61 73 65 2e 2e 2e" 2 He giggles softly and nuzzles his Morphobot again. while it would amuse to me make all y'all go scramble and find yourselves the appropriate translators, I did the worl for you already, courtesy of this site.
1 - "Ichor sky makes my optical sensors ache..."
2 - "Ninety-nine barrels of fuel on the wall... ninety-nine barrels of fuel... take one down, pass it around... shoot Oil Slick right in the head, if you please..."
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Post by Long Haul on Dec 7, 2010 22:26:57 GMT -5
Long Haul is not angsting about being slow. He's just being slow. However, he still makes steady progress, rumbling towards the spaceport.
OOC: Should we skip to arriving at the spaceport?
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 7, 2010 23:08:42 GMT -5
OOC: I'm okay with a skip to the spaceport, so Perceptor can have his freak out, and then we can throw him in Skyfire after, maybe on Perceptor's post or so? Or Swerve's. Whoever feels like describing a bustling alien spaceport, really.
Emirate Xaaron has Perceptor's face in his lap. He sighs. He sighs more as Perceptor launches into what sounds to him like baby-talk, and he grumbles, "Oh come on, at least try assembly language."
Then he pauses and raises a finger, "Okay, yes, shooting Oil Slick in the head would be acceptable, failing utterly ruining his reputation and leaving him friendless, destitute, weeping in a ditch, covered in petrol, on fire."
Emirate Xaaron is all right with making his enemies suffer, too, see, Swerve? He just does so in a more socially acceptable fashion.
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Post by Swerve on Dec 9, 2010 15:44:13 GMT -5
Socially acceptable is a subjective thing; what's acceptable even for Swerve in the underground isn't so acceptable topside and what seems acceptable topside might not sit well on worlds beyond Velocitron. Mauling Oil Slick in the most painful and aggravated way possible is time for the course in Swerve's usual circles.
Swerve spends most of the trip to the spaceport enumerating all the violence he plans to enact on Oil Slick and the various ways he's going to render the Decepticon's frame useless for anything but interpretive sculpture, all while he works. Perceptor shouldn't be able to shoot so much as a sputter of laser fire by the time Swerve calls the job complete, and by the time he calls it complete, there is considerably more noise than he recalls when they set out. Voices, ships winging low overhead, the bustle and chaos of a busy port. A hopper craft shuttling passengers from one pad to another comes in just above the low-level outparcels and Swerve ducks by reflex, glowering.
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