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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Aug 21, 2007 23:05:39 GMT -5
Skystrike was currently pulling off the mechanical gargoyle look quite well. Here she was, a speck of dark blue amongst the gray and bit of green. Wings silhouetted sharply above shed a crisp shadow across the rest of her form so that only her optics glittered malevolently to anything below her. Weed growing on the dirt that’d gathered on the corner of the building’s roof rasped in the barely noticeable breeze and for a second, the flier let her optics dart to it. The already dark expression on her face twisted into an annoyed grimace and Skystrike gave the small patch of grass a baleful glare before standing up and idly stepping off the roof. Hm. The sound of metal feet on tarmac resounded across the ghost city. It was still her free time and she’d spent it looking for things again. This time though, it was for some form of literature. A few minutes of staring blankly at the signs and what seemed to advertisement littering the place had left the seeker feeling distinctly annoyed and confused. The result was said unhappy seeker meandering about the city looking for something similar to the massive data archives back on Cybertron. Or maybe the bookstores she’d sometimes heard about on earth. Maybe some kind of digitalized storage if they were lucky?
She didn’t really know, but they needed some place to at least begin to learn to translate this language and that wasn’t going to happen without some pieces of literature. But how did alien libraries look like? And where were the bookstores? If Skystrike recalled correctly from her time on earth, some of the smaller bookstores were usually on the ground. Hopefully these aliens had some kind of literature storage area in a mine town. If she was lucky, these aliens would be at least somewhat similar to the humans and keep them near the ground.
Looking over the town now, the seeker realized it was going to be quite a bit of a search.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 25, 2007 15:49:54 GMT -5
Having been in and out of the mines for the past several, almost interminable days, Wreckage is actually rather appreciative of remaining above ground. He has his limits for the damp, rotten scents that pervade the tunnels and they have finally been reached.
There are more clouds today. If he has no duties to perform – at the moment, if he has, he is unaware of that fact – he should find a better vantage point from which to observe them. He sets out among the buildings in search of such a point. The sound of a bellowed greeting and gunfire briefly draws his attention; investigation reveals Demolishor and… a mechanoid unknown to Wreckage but with whom the tank seems familiar. Neither is trying to kill the other just yet, which Wreckage takes as a good sign. He leaves them behind, deciding that Demolishor can take care of himself if he is half as well-armed as he seems, and resumes his own search.
To say he stumbles across Skystrike would be slightly inaccurate. He does not expect to meet the flier, true, but encountering another Decepticon was something he rather suspected would happen. He accords the Seeker – that is what they call themselves, these fliers – a level stare before nodding, shallowly, in acknowledgement. Skystrike seems to be searching for something, as well, if Wreckage is to gauge by the way she peers at building after building. He does not ask what it is she seeks, but there is a vaguely curious air about him.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Aug 26, 2007 6:14:42 GMT -5
At the sound of footsteps Skystrike stops abruptly and glances up in an almost furtive manner, optics flickering and wings slowly flattening down on her back. She only relaxed slightly when she saw Wreckage and returned the greeting nod before pausing and idly thinking over what to say. After a moment of so of thoughtful silence, she shrugged inwardly and went back to poking around the building she’d been looking through before he’d come along. The flier still occasionally cast a suspicious glance over her shoulder, though. Only idiots would completely turn their attention away from another Decepticon.
“Wreckage was it?” The question was slightly muffled as the seeker pulled out a thin rusty stick from her subspace and prodded into a broken window. “Free time as well?” No schools, libraries or data storage places just yet. This building seemed to be living quarters despite the more fancy architecture. Hnh.
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Post by Starfighter on Aug 26, 2007 22:07:23 GMT -5
Having survived several mine-related close calls with panic attacks, Starfighter is taskless and airborn. He's not quite comfortable with being left on his own, as this increases his chances of either being drafted for something unpleasant or being attacked by random what-have-yous.
Hm. Skystrike and Wreckage look busy, or at least look like they're pretending to look busy. He's not completely fond of either of them, but Dead End's unavailable for clinging to and there are no more maps left to be made.
The tetrajet lands nearby and quietly comes up to them. He doesn't interrupt just yet, assuming that at some point Skystriek will explain her poking motives.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 26, 2007 22:31:38 GMT -5
"…Hn," is Wreckage's collective response to both questions, somehow simultaneously affirmative and noncommittal. Skystrike seems quite aware of his situation, or as much as anyone could be; he feels no need to elaborate further.
He considers asking after what, other than breaking windows, she is trying to do and very nearly gives in to his curiosity when Starfighter drifts down for a landing. Wreckage pauses and looks sidelong at the nervous Seeker. It takes him a moment before he shifts his weight and gives Starfighter the barest of nods.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Aug 26, 2007 23:11:35 GMT -5
The arrival of Starfighter wasn’t what made Skystrike look up again. No. It was the fact that she suddenly had the attention of two people now instead of one and felt distinctly surrounded. She stood up quickly from her crouch and then gave the two a rather annoyed look, about to tell them to go away when thought occurred to her. The annoyed look faltered.
“… So,” the jet started, feeling rather awkward as she picked through her processors for the next few words; she felt distinctly silly now and she didn’t particularly like that. “Have either of you seen anything that looks like a literature center? Or maybe a school?” Skystrike stopped herself from fidgeting with her stick. That would only make things worse.
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Shortround
Minor
Breaker of the Fourth Wall
Posts: 272
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Post by Shortround on Aug 28, 2007 6:30:20 GMT -5
Is that a distraction hovering towards the group? Nope, it's just Shortround, who, for some reason, has a few boxes stacked near his engines. His front also looks like it has recently been used as a makeshift battering ram.
"You have an entire town to shoot and somehow you accidentally blow apart half the slagging toystores..." Shortround grumbled to himself as he hovered onwards, turret slowly turning from side to side. Over the last few days he had been zooming all around the town, discovering which buildings had toys in them. So far he had just stored everything in one of the earlier stores he had found, and was on the way back with his latest batch of obvious bootlegs when he saw a fancy looking building.
"Well, let's see what's in here!" Shortround said, transforming and attempting to give the door of the house, that Skystrike was breaking the windows of, a good kick.
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Post by Starfighter on Aug 28, 2007 16:38:24 GMT -5
Starfighter stands back as Shortround kicks the building.
"I'm not sure. The buildings aren't labeled or shaped in any significant fashion."
By 'school', he's thinking the War Academy, not some little schoolhouse with desks and slates. Nothing around here seems big enough to count as an Academy, or secure enough to be for a central database.
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Eye-fire
Major
In two minds about everything
Posts: 597
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Post by Eye-fire on Aug 29, 2007 2:30:35 GMT -5
Eye-fire had been wandering around town, looking for something suitably useless to use as clay pigeons, and he didn't want to start tugging bits off buildings, one of the base builders may take offense at him wasting materials.
He'd also been trying to find the equivalent of a gun shop on this planet, though he wasn't extremely knowledgeable on weapons other than Cybertronian, he still wanted to see what they used here.
Advancing between the buildings head down, quietly and stealthily for no other reason that habit, he occasionally would stop, and the soft whir of his optics could be heard as he peered into a building.
He pauses at one point, hearing a hovercraft, and therefore Shortround, moving by a few streets away. He decides to follow him, albeit sneakily.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 29, 2007 14:45:11 GMT -5
For what it may be worth to the wary Skystrike, Wreckage prefers to keep a 'safe' arm-and-a-half-length distance as a minimum. It is usually just far enough to put others at a false sense of ease while keeping him under the normal effective range of their guns and, importantly for Wreckage, inside his own operating range. For him, it is simply precautionary.
To the Berkut's question, Wreckage responds with a small, negative shake of his head. Inwardly, he is bemused by her query. What use are such things to her? Or does she actually seek a computer hub that might be concealed in such a location? That makes far more sense. Unfortunately for her, Wreckage is by no means a scout, nor is he familiar with whatever markings the inhabitants used to differentiate these generic structures of theirs. They did, however, use markings for some buildings. Rather, at least one he has seen.
"…There is one," he murmurs vaguely toward Starfighter, keeping Shortround in the periphery of his vision. Small does not necessarily equal not a potential threat. "Nearer the blast zone. I have passed it before." He supposes it is possible there were other such structures. He also supposes it is possible they were destroyed. Whatever the case, he has offered what he knows.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Aug 29, 2007 17:30:27 GMT -5
It’s almost like one of those comical scenes from a sitcom. See Skystrike. See Skystrike utterly fail at socializing.
She gave Shortround what might have been a glare and don’t think she didn’t see you over there, Eye-fire! Why all these people suddenly seemed so interested in her was rather unnerving. They were probably either bored or up to something (or probably both) and the dark blue jet was willing to wager that the latter was correct. It was probably something nasty too with a high possibility of someone being blown up.
Starfighter’s and then Wreckage’s answer snaps Skystrike out of the little paranoid reverie though, and the glower on her face melted into a slightly puzzled look for a moment before going right back to a suspicious scowl. Of course, never having been a very expressive jet to begin with, the series of expressions looked more like ‘frown’, ‘blank look’ and ‘frown’. First thought that naturally came to mind? It was probably a trap.
Finally, after a second or so of darting slightly unsettled glances at Shortround and a few at everyone else, she finally turned her full attention to Wreckage and asked, “Can you show me where?”
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Post by Starfighter on Aug 29, 2007 17:50:29 GMT -5
"And what?" Starfighter asks, quietly enough that he might not be noticed if he's only paying attention to Skystrike.
He's falling to his default position as small and quiet, letting the more important mechs handle this. Besides, he has no idea what they exactly were looking for. Organics worked strangely, but they couldn't really have schools everywhere. Even they weren't stupid enough to not have basic programming.
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Shortround
Minor
Breaker of the Fourth Wall
Posts: 272
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Post by Shortround on Aug 29, 2007 19:55:36 GMT -5
Kick. Kick. Kick.
Shortround was not designed for combat at all, but he knew what would happen if he were to fire at the house. Bad would happen and there would be less house and more flaming skeleton of house.
Finally, the door gives way to his barrage of kicks, and Shortround, ignoring those looking at him, kneels down to peak inside. "Nothing..." he says, standing up again. He doesn't notice Eye-fire at all, by the way. Shortround looks around to judge his next building to attempt to kick down, and suddenly gets a genius idea!
"You guys haven't seen any shopping centres or anything, have you? For like... Supplies and stuff?" Shortround asks, turning to the group. Hiding his true intentions for the moment? Of course.
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Eye-fire
Major
In two minds about everything
Posts: 597
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Post by Eye-fire on Aug 30, 2007 3:20:04 GMT -5
Eye-fire suddenly tenses up as he realises that he's been spotted. Instincts tell him to run like hell in the opposite direction while firing over his shoulder.
Logic tells him his fellow Decepticons would not be pleased.
Instead he stands up and waves a greeting with his non weapon arm at the crowd, while quizzically looking at Shortround molest the building, and at the boxes sitting nearby.
"Greetings all. Uh, Shortround was it? May I ask whats in those boxes."
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 31, 2007 13:05:58 GMT -5
This is all quite different from dealing with his usual cohorts. This is, if somewhat puzzling at times, calm and orderly. Wreckage does not find it unappealing.
He gives Shortround a brief, direct, scrutinising look. The little transport wants to go looting again; Wreckage has seen him once or twice, during his shifts outside the mines, breaking into buildings. Whatever lulls him into defrag.
"No," is the simple answer the APC tells Shortround before turning away. Wreckage's gaze rakes briefly over Starfighter in the process – it may have been accidental or it may have been deliberate – but he says nothing to the timid Seeker. Eye-fire earns a wary glance and little more. Wreckage shifts the bulk of his attention to Skystrike instead and considers her, and her query, for a moment or two. "…If you wish," he finally responds with the slightest of shrugs. It might have been nothing more than a twitch.
He steps from the small group to lead Skystrike and whoever else may tag along with her, all too aware of presenting his back; ironically (or perhaps not), the armour there is noticeably thicker, with so much of his secondary mode folded there, than on other parts of his body. If Skystrike wants to see the building with the sign, he will show it to her. What purpose the building served while the city's inhabitants were still here and what good it will do her now are not his concerns. To Wreckage, it is simply a small structure with a wrought-metal sign in a language he does not understand. It may mean something more to someone else.
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