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Post by Kup on Aug 21, 2007 14:42:13 GMT -5
Kup puts his hands on his hips, surveys the area in an out of the way alley not too far from the building that's being converted into a base, and shakes his head. Well, it's not the most inappropriate place he's ever set up office, so why not?
Those who are more technically inclined have been exceedingly busy. Kup is not technically inclined, but he's strong, and sometimes brute strength alone comes in handy when putting up temporary encampments. He's helped plenty with those over the years, too. But helping with the building has meant putting off other, highly essential tasks, such as getting an idea who the hell his allies are and what they're capable of. It's time Kup remedied that.
The elder dragged two abandoned vehicles of alien make further into the alley and set them up so they were near each other, and somewhat at an angle. There! Chairs! Then he picked up the flat piece of metal he had set on the ground when he arrived, one scaled to him about the size of a large clipboard to a human, perhaps a bit larger. Then he pulls from subspace a small, round cylinder of metal with a tip he, himself, had sharpened and set it against the larger sheet of metal, scratching lightly. He nods, satisfied with the impression. Naturally, he has no intention of taking actual, readable notes, but the occasional obscure symbol to jog the old memory chips about important points later on is something of a necessity. His usual method is to use a hodge-podge of symbology picked up in his travels, using no Cybertronian and not leaning too heavily on any one species' system. It usually works well enough.
With the area set up and the tools at hand, Kup knows it's time to get started. He activates his radio and sets it to frequency of the mech who introduces himself as a Prince... and then proposes a vote. // Xaaron, you got a moment? I plan to be running some interviews with everyone, trying to get a gauge on force capabilities... and you're up. If you can meet me... // and he gives the location of the ramshackle little alleyway he's picked, //for a chat, it'd be appreciated.//
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 21, 2007 20:41:49 GMT -5
The Kup that Emirate Xaaron knew worked for Fortress Maximus. Fortress Maximus left the war. Emirate Xaaron can guess what Fortress Maximus's men must have thought of him. Moreover, Kup once lost his nerves and was cast out alone in space, as was traditional. If either or both of those events occurred in Kup's life, he may not be too pleased by Emirate Xaaron.
It's obvious that Kup holds some sway and not just over those of his own universe. Emirate Xaaron clearly needs to be careful around Kup. Only someone with something to hide would feign a reason not to arrive. He replies, //I will be there presently.//
Emirate Xaaron arrives. Tiny the dragon, still leashed and muzzled, is with him, cheerily sniffing at all and sundry. The alley is a bit tattered, but Emirate Xaaron has seen worse. No worries here. Emirate Xaaron looks at Kup's choice of chairs. That's sort of like sitting on fake people would be for humans, isn't it? Rather macabre. Shrugging, he sits himself down. He would be quite peeved to know that Kup had interpreted him as a Prince. Starscream was a Prince of those blasted Vosians. For Emirate Xaaron, Councilor or Chairman will do quite well, thank you very much. Or even just his name, which is as much a title as it is a name.
He looks up at Kup, a wry smile tugging at his sewn lips, and asks, "Should I be flattered or concerned that I am first on your list for questioning?"
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Post by Kup on Aug 21, 2007 21:27:36 GMT -5
Kup is smiling, and his demeanor is friendly, but there's still a sense that he's taking things rather seriously. He's never even known a Fortress Maximus, and he's never lost his nerve... but his Cybertron has, and it amounted to kind of the same thing. With less shakes. As he settles on one of the vehicles (they were what was available!), he answers the other. "Eh, probably a bit of both. After all, you do seem to be the shiftiest one we got here, outside of maybe me." The tone is light, cheerful, almost teasing, but there is an undertone that says, 'No, I am not joking. I don't mind, but I'm not joking.'
He shifts a bit in his 'seat' and glances at Tiny and points with his make-shift stylus. "Now, she was a lot further down the list, but I expect her interview to go pretty quick, anyway." What with the whole dumb-beast thing and all.
"All right, Emirate Xaaron. So, what I got so far is that you're the last surviving member of your Cybertron's Council of Elders. You lead a guerrilla war. You're pretty obviously used to being in charge and having your orders followed, and, if I'm not mistaken, think you're the best suited to lead here, but you want to put that up for a vote." His voice indicates that Kup still isn't too keen on the whole 'vote' issue.
"Now, if my Cybertron has a Xaaron, Emirate or otherwise, I never heard of him, but it's probably bad to be making too many assumptions based on names, anyway. So tell me, Emirate, what else do I need to know about you? What skills do you bring to the table? Am I right in thinking this is your first time off Cybertron? And what's your actual field experience?" He taps his stylus against the metal chunk he's using to write on, but doesn't make any scratches. "That should do for a start, I think."
There's a moment's pause, and then he continues. "And if you got any questions about me, go ahead and ask." Kup doesn't imagine Xaaron needs to be told this, but it might seem more polite to say it out loud.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 21, 2007 22:27:54 GMT -5
So Kup sees through him, does he? Is Emirate Xaaron really that transparent? He's going to have to be more careful. Emirate Xaaron narrows his optics and leans forward, propping his chin on the backs of his hands and his elbows on his knees.
He glances at Tiny and asks, "The dragon's a female? Huh." He wants to blame Arcee, and he doesn't know why. "Someone had to watch her. Long Haul's busy doing... something. Do you need her to leave?"
Emirate Xaaron replies slowly, "I bring my experience as a guerilla leader and a politician to the table. I can plot the assassination of a Decepticon tyrant or negotiate a peace treaty. I went through Iacon's Academy of Science and Technology, but I am afraid that my knowledge in those fields is sadly rather dated as to be useless, as is my SAR experience." Welcome to Cybertron, where they send their governing body to investigate major disasters. "And any knowledge that I may have possessed of how to fight is even worse off. You see, a curious thing happens when your troops decide that you are indispensable. They absolutely refuse to let you out on the field. This is not to say that I haven't seen action, but honestly, my response to an attack is just to hole up and lay low until the danger passes. There have been exceptions, such as a few years ago, when I had to fight a mad scientist by the name of Flame, but if you're looking for a warrior, don't look here. If you want someone who can convince dozens of squabbling guerilla cells to fight as one and agree to a unified plan, if you want someone who can orchestrate a commando strike against the heart of the Decepticons, I'm your machine."
He adds, "No, I haven't been off Cybertron. It needs me too much. It needs me now, and I'm not there." His fingers clench angrily on the leash.
Emirate Xaaron sucks in air to cycle as coolant, causing an eerie whistling over his stitches like air over an open bottle. He lets his fingers unclench, and he asks, "So. I'm a politician messing around in a game of soldiers, doing what he can but mainly what he has to, because there isn't anyone else left. What's your story?"
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 10:23:39 GMT -5
Now, Kup may not have been joking about Xaaron seeming one of the shiftiest folks here, but he was joking about Tiny. He shakes his head, chuckles, and says, "Naw, she doesn't have to leave. To be honest, security leaks aren't the kind of leaks I'm worried about, as far as she's concerned." Has the dragon even been base-trained yet?
As Xaaron tells his story, Kup scratches a few marks down on his "notepad". They're not all in the same area, and, as often as not, are just quick symbols that remind him of persons or events that Xaaron and his story reminds him of, rather than any direct notations. He frowns when the other describes his response to an attack, and when the other finishes he says, "So... about the whole laying low in response to an attack thing... I'm taking that painting yourself purple and throwing yourself out as a distraction counts as one of them 'exceptions'?"
"I'm going to be level with you, Xaaron, because my instincts are telling me you're being on the level with me. Your Cybertron needs you? Fine. Right now, I'm making it my goal to see that everyone's Cybertrons... or Velocitrons, or whatever..." Or Quintessa, but he's not going there just now, "get them back, alive. And I can't do that if I've gotta worry about folks who don't know how to handle themselves in a fight out there. So either you start staying behind, or you learn how to. And that's not up for vote. Sounds like you're bringing some important skills to the table, Emirate, and if you're that much of a target to the folks in your reality, it's probably best for all concerned that you don't go near the battlefield, anyway. But even with all that, I know I'd feel a lot more comfortable if, if you don't know how to at least fire a standard blaster, you learn it."
"Now, for my story1..." Kup leans further back against the vehicle he's sitting on, taps his stylus against his 'notepad' twice, and considers. He said he was going to be on the level with Xaaron, and he will. For all that he's a tale-spinner, though, what he tells the Emirate today is a lot more about himself then he's told anyone in a longtime, and likely to be more he'll tell anyone else here.
"I was built during the Second Great War of Cybertron. Even in those days we had already forgotten the names and faces of our creators, but we still knew we were once merchandise. Could be worries that someone might try to make us such again is what set it off. Kind of, 'We'd better own the universe before it tries to own us again,' you know? That's just a guess, though. The reasons why the Decepticons decided to turn to conquest were already lost, and all that mattered was that they had.
"In those days, transforming was new, and strictly an Autobot technology - I was part of the first couple of generations of Cybertronians who could rightfully call themselves Transformers2, and damned, but it made me a cocky little cuss. Built for the war to serve in it, and didn't think much of it. Fragged some Decepticons, found other fun when I had the chance, got blown up a few times..." He grins. "Generally had a good old time, but this last bit eventually ground down some of my rough edges. Luckily, by the time peace broke out I had calmed myself down some.
"Not that Cybertron's 'Golden Age' and I really got along." Up until now, a faint smile had touched Kup's expression as he retold his youthful experiences. Now, it fades. He hesitates, as this next bit is not one he often wants to talk about. Should he even bother? He did say he'd be on the level. He goes on. "I spent a couple million years working security... starting from guard, eventually moved up to my own firm. But at the time, there was a big movement to try to... erase the Second War. Go about pretending Cybertronian never raised arms against Cybertronian. Worry was, I guess, that impressionable young folks would hear about Decepticons and decide maybe becoming one was a good idea. I... took issue with this sort of thinking."
He smirked. "Wouldn't shut up, wouldn't pretend it all didn't happen, didn't think ignoring it was the way to prevent it from happening again, refused to remove my brands. Now, just wearing the Autobrand weren't enough to get you in trouble, but when you combine that with everything else..." He shrugs. "Got told I was living in the past, got labeled a bigot and a troublemaker, and eventually got told I could shut up, leave, be shut up or be made to leave. At the time I was too damned stubborn to shut up, but not so stubborn that I didn't know when it was better to retreat so's I could fight later so I... left.
"So... the 'Golden Age of Peace on Cybertron,' and I spent most of it off world working as a freelance security consultant." Hmm. If you squint just right, you might read the word "merc" in there instead. "Did what I could to keep tabs on the situation back home, though, and when word hit that the Decepticons were stirring things up again, I went running home to help with the new generations, the ones what had only known peace.3
"The Decepticons didn't always stay on planet, though, so we couldn't afford to, and with all my space travel experience I was a prime choice for leading groups to go after them, which is what I spent most the Third War doing, 'til I was called back to help with the establishment of Autobot City on Earth. Then the events of 'five went down and, well..." He shrugs. "I was there to help Optimus get on his feet. I figured I owed it to Rodimus to do the same. He's made me Cybertron's Chief of Security, and me and Magnus are his top two advisors."
Kup absently swings his right leg against the vehicle he's sitting on as he wraps up. "So there you have it. Not all of it, but more than I've told in one sitting for awhile. I'm a front-line soldier who's always been a front-line soldier. I can lead, but I'm not usually the guy who does... instead, I'm usually the guy who lets the leader know when they're being stupid. I've spent a lot of time training up young soldiers, I specialize in security, I've got extensive travel experience. But I have never been able to properly wrap my mind around a 'civilian' mindset, I don't do tact, I'm not a guy you send on negotiations, I have a bad history with politicians, and I definitely am more a 'small picture' thinker."
Thinking about it, Kup realizes that his strength and weaknesses seem to compliment Xaaron's pretty well. Hnh. Funny how that works.
1 Which is, incidentally, little to nothing like the Marvel UK comic book issue, "Kup's Story," despite that being an excellent comic. Ah, well!
2 Kup runs stylistically similar to the earlier Autobots shown to transform in Five Faces of Death.
3 Kup, in one episode, compares Rodimus Prime to Optimus when he was first Prime, implying that Kup was on Cybertron to work with him in his very early days. This also suggests that Kup was already fairly prominent in the Autobot side of the war.
OOC note: All non-canon additions to Kup's background are made with admin approval.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 22, 2007 13:28:30 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron may or may not have taken to painting Decepticon symbols on the batteries that they throw to the dragonette to feed her. Okay, so he has. He wants to get it into her head that it's okay to bite and eat Decepticons. If someone else has been training the dragonette to not make a mess, he wouldn't know. Emirate Xaaron is only concentrating on the important parts, after all.
If Kup expected Emirate Xaaron to put up any protest about learning how to fight, Kup wasn't listening very closely when Emirate Xaaron mentioned that his own troops keep him away from the field. Left to his druthers, Emirate Xaaron is entirely too happy to rush out into a situation where he is outmanned and about to be set on fire. Trying not to seem too eager, he nods and confirms, "Painting myself purple and being sideswiped by a Stunticon is indeed unusual behavior for me, but unusual times call for unusual measures. I should indeed like to learn some effective self-defense skills." Running around like a mad chicken does not cut it, Emirate Xaaron has found. He sighs and slumps a bit. "Although I do have to agree with you that's it's like a good idea for me to stay back. I'll fill you in on Needlenose and Spinister, and you'll see why."
He listens in rapt attention to Kup's story, sitting up straight. Emirate Xaaron has an appreciation for history, because he's lived it long enough that he's become it. Kup's account is unfamiliar to him, which is all the more baffling, given the similarities between their universes.
There is one point, however, when Emirate Xaaron's expression turns sour, and there is an angry fire in his optics. He's good at controlling his reactions. Emirate Xaaron could cry at Megatron's funeral, if he had to. This reaction, however, is genuine, and he sees no reason to hold it back. So they wanted to bury the wheel of history for fear that it would spin back around?
When Kup is finished, Emirate Xaaron nods and says, "Perhaps I should explain the situation on my Cybertron and Nightbeat's, because it seems quite unlike your own. We were created by Primus, our God, to fight and die defending the universe against the God of Chaos, Unicron." Didn't Xaaron just say he went through the Academy of Science and Technology? He seems like a born cynic, too. These aren't the words of someone with faith. These are the words of someone who knows his words to be verifiably true, the way that dropping a rock will verify that the rock will fall.
"Every Transformer, and we were all Transformers from the start," Whoops, so why doesn't Emirate Xaaron have any kibble? "was made a warrior, deep down, even when Primus ceased direct interaction with His children. Perhaps that was where the problems began." Emirate Xaaron certainly has no problems questioning Primus's logic. "Even in times of peace, there were tensions, seething just below the surface. Cybertron was divided into city-states, and every so often, we would have state games, showcasing our finest and providing an outlet for some of the tensions to defuse. One year, the games were sabotaged. In the confusion, the Overlord died, and direct power fell to the Council. Tarn and Vos, led by Shockwave and Starscream respectively, went to war and annihilated each other.
"There's blame on my hands, now. We initially dismissed the Decepticons, led by the popular gladiator Megatron, as cranks. He drew from dispossessed of Tarn and Vos, swelling his ranks. I should have been wiser, but," he chews on his lip, looking quite pained, like a parent forced to choose between children once and forever, "they were my people, too. Tensions escalated, and I begged the Council to appoint a military leader to lead the Autobot army in what was a military problem. We selected Optimus Prime. He was a security guard in his youth, it may amuse you to know.
"When the Ark departed, we lost Optimus Prime and a number of our best, but the Decepticons lost Megatron and a similar number. The Council managed to regain power with Megatron gone. However, a new warlord by the name of Trannis arose. He marched on Iacon. Most of the Council favoured surrender. I disagreed." Emirate Xaaron flashes a fierce expression that might be called a smile in the way that one calls a lion a kitty-cat. "I took the Autobots loyal to me underground, into the sewers. The rest of the Council surrendered to Trannis when he took Iacon. He thanked them and promptly executed the lot of them. It took time, but my underground grew in strength. We could again openly fight the Decepticons. Finally, I sent the Wreckers, a crack commando squad, to kill Trannis. They succeeded, but I should have known that things were too easy.
"Trannis had been growing soft. If I hadn't sent the Wreckers in for the killing blow, another Decepticon would have offed Trannis, all the same. Straxus arose in his place, worse than Trannis had ever been. My forces were shattered." He laces his fingers together and bows his head. Anyone who thinks that Emirate Xaaron rests easily is a fool. Then, he looks up and continues. "We rebuilt. We had to. Finally, we had word that Optimus Prime lived. Would have been around 1984, Earth reckoning. The time for uprising was nigh. The plan was simple. We'd lure out nine of the Decepticons' best, and the Wreckers would slaughter them, demoralising the Decepticon forces and making them ripe for the topping. I was the bait. Events did not go as planned. They never do, but this was a clusterfrag." Did Xaaron just say that? "The Decepticons were recalled, but a lone assassin stayed back. He fired on me. How could he resist? I lost one of my dearest friends for the first time when he took the shot meant for me.
"And thus issued in the modern era, which was full of more fantastically odd things than I care to recount. I suppose that the essence of our conflict is that we are one people, forged to one goal, but we lost our way somewhere down the line. Now, you may say that you have a bad history with politicians, but not only do I aim to change that, I hope that you can see that my own history with politicians has been nearly as bad."
Emirate Xaaron stands and holds out a hand to shake Kup's.
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 14:02:53 GMT -5
Kup considers Xaaron's story as it is told, and his expression is both startled and pleased with how much the other is laying out. He quickly concludes that his decision to put all his cards on the table had been the right one.
He grunts softly as he stands, murmuring, "Strange. At a glance, it seems like my reality and yours are the most similar... 1984 is the same year our Prime and his crew woke on Earth, too, our designs look close... but instead, we just seem to have a lot of close parallels that have cropped up from wildly different bases."
When Xaaron offers his hand, Kup sets both stylus and plate of metal in his left hand and returns the handshake firmly, a sincere smile on his face. "Well, I'll give you your chance to change it, though..." his smile fades. "I still don't see the point to a vote. Xaaron, look around. Watch these people. To most of them, the leadership is already at least part way set in their minds, whether they're the sort to admit it or not. It's obvious."
Kup's grasp tightens slightly but not painfully before the handshake is released, more a friendly move than anything, and he looks directly into the other Autobot's yellow gaze. "I know my mind's already made up. All you have to do is lead well. Lead well, Emirate Xaaron, and I'll follow."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 22, 2007 15:21:56 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron sighs. Kup is right. What's a vote going to prove? He frowns thinly and notes, "A vote will confirm it. How else would you intend on making it official? Do you want me to stand up and say, 'I'm Emirate Xaaron, and I'm in charge now because no one else is stepping up.'?"
He reaches out to place a hand on Kup's arm and adds, "I do thank you for your confidence in me."
Then Emirate Xaaron moves to sit back down on the morbid chair. He says, "I told you I'd tell you about Spinister and Needlenose. Do they exist in your universe? I'm not quite sure that they're exactly from mine. In my universe, Needlenose was a pre-war build. He was a microchip designer, fabulously good at what he did, but very vain. His designs were not particularly practical, as lovely as they were. Optimus Prime and a number of his supporters told Needlenose as much. In a fit of pique, he signed on with the Decepticons." Emirate Xaaron has a disapproving look on his face. It's not just that signing on with xenocidal maniacs out of spite is an extremely immature thing to do. It's that he really wanted to hit Optimus Prime with the Tact Bat when the debacle was concluded. The Autobots could have had the finest microchip designer to fly the skies of Cybertron on their side if some people could only shut up!
"I am not certain how, but many millions of years later, Needlenose ended up placed in the Mayhem Attack Squad. The Mayhems usually attend to Decepticon internal affairs, and you can imagine what that must be like, but they can and do kill Autobots. Spinister is their leader. He is a sniper of some renown and a stealth specialist. Needlenose, in addition to his engineering abilities, is a decent warrior across the board. Now, Needlenose's file, as I last saw it, didn't indicate firepower anywhere near what he displayed in battle here. Either he isn't the Needlenose from my reality, or he is from the future. It's almost a comforting thought, that he might be from the future, considering what was happening when I left. You'll probably want to ask Nightbeat more about those two. Nightbeat has directly engaged them. He was also captured and tortured after engaging them, and that was in our own universe, ignoring what happened here, but I'm sure his psyche is robust enough that he'll be able to talk about it.
"Now, did you have anything else to ask me?"
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 18:36:20 GMT -5
Kup shrugs at Xaaron's first series of questions. "I can't say I see what's wrong with that, but if you want a formal confirmation, go for it." Kup has just declared he'll follow Xaaron. If Xaaron wants to put his position up for vote... Kup'll still argue, but he'll go along with it. Grudgingly. "We don't even know how the rest of them pick a leader yet, though. I s'pose I can ask about that, too."
He marks a few more sqiggles at Xaaron's description of Needlenose and Spinister, but at the point when Xaaron explains why Needlenose is a Decepticon, he raises his hand to his mouth, apparently to rub his chin thoughtfully... but a close look shows that he's merely trying to cover a snicker at the absurdity of it all. All he says during that portion, however, is "Hn."
When Xaaron wraps up his explanation of them, he nods, makes another mark, and says, "I'll ask him." Then he considers Xaaron's final question and shakes his head. "Naw, I think we got it covered. If I come up with anything else, I got your freq."
He smiles faintly as he considers his 'notes.' "Y'know, I would say something about it being a change of pace to have a leader that I didn't have to train up first, but..." he trails off and shrugs. "See you at the firing range, Emirate?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 22, 2007 21:14:16 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron is going to think about this. He would like to make it formal in a way that does allow the Autobots an out. He really doesn't want to deal with Autobots who refuse to listen to him.
Emirate Xaaron smiles faintly and notes, "You'll need to find me a gun, first. My own is quite inaccessible. See you at the firing range, Kup."
He gathers up Tiny's leash and gives it a tug. Emirate Xaaron departs, dragonette in tow.
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 21:50:20 GMT -5
Kup frowns after Xaaron, his brows drawing together. Just what the blazes did that mean? The bit about his gun being inaccessible? He makes another scribble and considers who else he needs to talk.
Xaaron got called out first because he was a bit, well, shady, but that wasn't the only reason. Vote or no vote, it's looking likely that Xaaron would be leading them, and Kup wanted a better feel for him before he dedicated himself more fully.
He considered his other high priorities. That Junkion, if he can track her down. Hardwire. Nightbeat (what was it about that universe?). Swerve...
Damn it, he doesn't even have Swerve's personal frequency. Yeah, better take care of this one ASAP. He transmits on the Autobot frequency, //Swerve, this is Kup. You got a moment? There's a few things we need to get talked about.//
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 22:38:49 GMT -5
After some broadband radio chatter, Kup sighs, shakes his head, and stands up. So much for his "office." He places his makeshift stylus and notepad in subspace, then transforms.
He dislikes giving in to the kid like this, but he really can't force Swerve to come to him, and he's not letting the boy put this off. However, once he's found Swerve, he's pretty damned sure he can force him to listen, if that's what it comes to.
Kup takes off in the direction that Swerve described at his best speed which... isn't very fast. However, eventually he does arrive at the road rounding the Northwest edge of the city, as directed. As soon as he's in the area, he transforms and looks for the racer.
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Post by Swerve on Aug 22, 2007 22:53:50 GMT -5
It's hard to miss Swerve catapulting down the road, engine nearly screaming. He's pushing himself, maybe harder than he has to, maybe not. He has to test what little work he's been able to do in adjusting his systems, just as he explained. Kup might pass a loose toolkit on his way out. Swerve comes screeching to a stop only to take off again a split-second. Alright, so his acceleration's as good as ever.
A hard 180° and he faces the way he came. And whaddaya know. There's Kup headed out here now. Swerve's almost surprised the oldtimer showed. Primus, is that truck ever fragging slow. Brakedown was old, too, but he could still give most racers a run for their chips; this is just leaking outrageous. It's a debate to just meet the old Autobot halfway or wait.
Frag it. Kup could slagging well get over here; he's come this far.
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Post by Kup on Aug 22, 2007 23:01:04 GMT -5
Kup shakes his head, growls softly to himself, and transforms. So the boy wants to make a game of it, does he? He's just going to have to learn that Kup doesn't play fair. He starts once more rolling towards Swerve, doing his best speed on pavement (which ain't good, but on the plus side, his best speed in rough conditions is little worse) and drives towards Swerve.
If Swerve drives away instead of waiting, though? Frag it. Kup's either calling him out over radio or going back home and waiting by the energy source. He didn't get this old by running races he knows he can't win. He got this old by knowing when to play your opponent's games, and when to change the rules to suit yourself.
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Post by Swerve on Aug 23, 2007 1:17:42 GMT -5
Oh, Swerve's waiting. Not with supreme patience, but he's waiting. There's no way Kup's any kind of racer, not if that's his top speed; running him wouldn't present any kind of challenge. Smelt, Swerve might almost feel bad if he tried.
"Took you long enough!" he bellows, not bothering to leave racer mode. He's just idling as he sits there. He's… almost calm.
For now.
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