Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Sept 30, 2007 19:54:11 GMT -5
From the distance, the brief glimmer against the dark desert could almost be attributed to random heat shimmers, from parched air slowly rising up from the desert floor under the power of the relentless sun above. From above, save for the vibrant reflective "643" in brilliant white and the glitter of sunlight against the blue and white and red faceted polymer of an emergency light bar, the lone black vehicle could almost have blended into the vast sea of parched black sand.
Searing heat bakes into the glossy black finish of hood and roof and body panels, seeps like questing fingers through seams into the Decepticon's frame. Half-tinted glass shields much of Barricade's interior from the pervading heat, but outside, the thick, parched scent of dust and scorched sand is slowly intertwining with the mineral tang of baking metal.
Who knows how long the Saleen has sat immobile there under the sun? The thin dust drifting in a listless wind hasn't yet offered to cling to the spotlessly shined body panels, and yet, there are no tracks in that cracked and hazed black earth that would show from whence the Interceptor had come. Silent and solitary, ebon shine against dull charcoal sands--
Barricade's engine roars to life with a low, menacing growl. This is not where he is supposed to be, and, unless the yellow bastard had managed to turn himself invisible, his prey is nowhere in sight.
Frenzy is still perched in his accustomed place in his front seat, offline, just as Barricade himself had been a moment before. All systems are returning appropriate values, given the heat beating down on them. No injuries or warnings flash across his queue. There is no explanation for this, particularly given that this black expanse matches nothing in his databanks, nor does it look familiar from their previous travels. Even his navigation systems are bouncing back error messages. With all this open space, surely one of the insects' geostationary satellites should be in range to place their position, and yet... Nothing.
Frenzy, however, is the one who specializes in finding information. Barricade is about to prod the hacker awake and set him to locating their current position when, in the extreme far distance, a lance of brilliant magenta light spears up into the sky, barely visible against the equally brilliant glare of the sun overhead.
ooc: the light is from when Hook activated the energy transmission facility during the Big Battle. Barricade and Frenzy will catch up to folks in due time.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 2, 2007 18:55:17 GMT -5
The sprawl of metal in Barricade's front passenger seat stirs, then springs to life in a flurry of sliding parts. Abruptly, there is a silver stereo sitting in the police car.
For a moment, all is still once more.
Then a set of optics peek cautiously out from behind the stereo-casing. A chatter of absolutely vile curses comes from the speakers before it unfolds once again into robot-form.
He breaks off at the light-show, then jolts forward, pressing his face against Barricade's windshield to get a closer look. "What is? Location? What is?"
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Oct 2, 2007 19:52:27 GMT -5
"Unknown," Barricade rumbles, rolling forward a few feet to angle toward the light better. "The insects' satellites aren't reporting positional information. Look familiar?" Now that he is awake - still with no memory of how he'd managed to end up offline in the first place, and that is vexing him fiercely, which Frenzy can likely note from the irritated snarl of his engine - his comm radio is ablaze with battle-chatter from unfamiliar voices. Unfamiliar voices claiming to be Decepticons. As he listens for a few moments for clues, one name leaps out as familiar, at least, even if the voice that seems to be responding to it is not. Starscream. Barricade snorts. Obviously this is all part of some elaborate Autobot ruse, however, their execution of said ruse is decidedly lacking. Not even Scorponok could mistake that pretender's irritatingly nasal voice with Starscrea-- Now THAT is a decidedly familiar voice, indeed. "We seem to be missing the excitement." And quite a few pieces to this puzzle, apparently.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 2, 2007 21:59:25 GMT -5
Frenzy jounces in Barricade's seat, then scrabbles at the door handle. "Open, open, open!"
Something's not right, he can feel it, something's different, too different, he needs out!
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Barricade
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Knight of the Spastic Sword
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Post by Barricade on Oct 2, 2007 22:04:21 GMT -5
Barricade growls - both vocally, and a warning rumble of his engine - but obligingly swings the door open before Frenzy manages to tear up the interior door panel.
"What is it?"
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 2, 2007 22:35:02 GMT -5
Frenzy leaps out, landing on the black sand in a crouch. He looks around wildly, before proceeding to jump up and down several times. "Gravity's wrong," he says so fast the words practically run together.
Then it's up at the sky, gaze darting every which way. "You listening to the radio? Flier's coming to do a pickup. Don't know these rustbuckets yet. Don't wanna be seen, do we? Think I see a moon."
"Oh, the smoker's1 out there. Wreckage says." Frenzy titters as he scrambles back into Barricade and tugs the door closed firmly. No slamming, of course. Slamming someone's doors gets you hurt.
---
1. Skyblast
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Oct 3, 2007 12:46:12 GMT -5
Well this is.... irritating. Somehow Barricade doubts that even the Autobots have managed to find some manner of altering a planet's gravity, which means that somehow he and Frenzy have been transported off Earth without awareness of that fact. And, apparently, into the middle of a more overt campaign between the factions, if the radio traffic is to be believed.
Of course, this could, theoretically, be all part of some incredible virtual simulation designed to wrest intelligence from him unawares. As Frenzy returns to his accustomed place - Barricade's growling engine settles into a faintly appreciative purr for a moment as his partner pulls his door shut - he snorts once again. No, no simulation, this. No one has yet managed to compile the appropriate algorithms to duplicate Frenzy's particular mannerisms. No one is that insane. Besides, why utilize so many unknown entities in this "illusion" if the purpose is to trick information - which they have no more of at the moment than the Autobots do - from them?
That leaves being unknowingly incapacitated and kidnapped to another world, one that, superficially, at least, does not match any parameters for other worlds in the insects' home solar system.
"We stay out of sight," he agrees. No knowing just yet how little they can trust any of these strange mechs chattering away on the radio, nor how many Autobots they must contend with or what their capabilities are - beyond Skyblast, at least.
The light in the distance is gone now, but Barricade had fixed its general direction into his systems. With this unfamiliar Starscream having called a retreat, whatever had produced that odd beam of intense light energy should be deserted - at least it should be by the time they would arrive there. Until Frenzy gives him a better direction to start in, it's as good a place as any to start looking for information. Once they locate these other "Decepticons", they can do what they do best - gather information and infiltrate.
And perhaps have a bit of fun with Wreckage, while they're at it.
Black dust kicks out from under his tires as he gooses his throttle. It's no cultivated highway, but the parched black earth of the desert floor is smooth enough, at least, to afford him some decent speed. The listless wind doesn't even offer to carry away the thick rooster-tail of sand and dust that he leaves in his wake as he races across the landscape like a bit of polished black lightning under the brilliant desert sun.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 4, 2007 10:33:35 GMT -5
Another abandoned town. Fifth one they'd passed through since they'd left the half-destroyed mesa however many days ago. Frenzy could have pulled up the exact number if he wanted to, but that would ruin the drowse-dream of Barricade's tires singing over the endless metal roads.
The radio voices came only intermittently now, but Frenzy was still sure of exactly where they came from. He was good at that kind of thing.
He pressed his face up against the window-glass to stare at the town as they moved through it, optics eating up everything. Empty, empty, where were the people? What had happened?
- Was that an electronics shop?
"StopstopstopSTOP!" Frenzy lunged across Barricade's interior to scrabble at his steering wheel. "Stop!"
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Barricade
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Knight of the Spastic Sword
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Post by Barricade on Oct 4, 2007 12:45:52 GMT -5
If any other mechanism had dared make the attempt to seize his controls in such a manner, they would have gotten a first hand demonstration of the interesting and amusing physical ramifications of not being ejected from Barricade's passenger compartment prior to transformation. Messy to clean up, perhaps, but incredibly effective, as he'd proven many times on many worlds.
Smoke wafts out from under his tires as he jams hard on his brakes and slams into a bootlegger, rubber burning as he slides to a screetching halt pointed back toward where Frenzy had been watching before he'd made that dive for Barricade's wheel.
"What is it?" he growls, chassis lurching as he gooses his throttle, ready for attack.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 4, 2007 15:32:55 GMT -5
Frenzy grabs on tightly as Barricade pulls his bootlegger-reverse, gravitational and velocity changes doing their best to fling the smaller Transformer about the police car's interior.
Only when Barricade stops flinging himself about does Frenzy cautiously let go. Is he going to do that again? No? Really? No!
Then he's abruptly trying to yank open Barricade's driver-side door. "Open, open, open!"
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Oct 4, 2007 15:49:27 GMT -5
Barricade isn't "flinging himself about;" he's responding to a potential threat on the advisement of his partner. Perhaps Frenzy should wear a seatbelt if he doesn't wish to become a ballistic object. The fact that Barricade probably didn't have to be quite that vigorous in coming to a stop is a whole other matter altogether.
Barricade's door pops open, letting Frenzy scramble out. As soon as he does, with a whirring of components and the slide of armor shifting to new configurations, Barricade transforms, dropping into a wary crouch and scanning for threats.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 6, 2007 19:46:59 GMT -5
Frenzy freezes as he hears Barricade transforms, then whirls on the bigger Transformer. "What? What? Oh! No, no threats! Stop that!"
Then the little Transformer dives into the shop with the electronics on display, bashing himself against the door for a moment before he figures out that it's a "pull" rather than a "push".
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Oct 6, 2007 20:24:40 GMT -5
The rapid and sudden burst of frenetic insanity, just so that Frenzy can go shopping? Barricade snorts and relaxes, straightening up and peering around himself at the deserted town. It's much of a muchness, just as the other few had been, although perhaps just a little larger. Probably why it had warranted an electronics shop.
Seeing nothing else of interest to him, he kneels, angling the lights mounted in his chest through the big glass window to give his partner a little more light to see by.
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Frenzy
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Post by Frenzy on Oct 6, 2007 20:36:51 GMT -5
Frenzy mutters to himself as he ransacks the store, looking for a silvery local stereo of just the right size. The fact that the stupid meatsacks thought that bronze was just the blingiest color since sliced bling made the search even more difficult.
At last, he yanks out a silver one of the same mass as the Earth stereo he's currently using. With a shriek of glee, he scans it and then transforms to his new mode.
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Barricade
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Knight of the Spastic Sword
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Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Oct 6, 2007 21:02:07 GMT -5
The terrible expression that briefly crosses Barricade's features might almost be called a smile. Of course, it's the same smile one would imagine the boogeyman or the monster-under-the-bed sporting, all sharp points and murderous glee. He so does love it when his partner is pleased. Usually a pleased Frenzy means someone is or shortly will be in severe amounts of pain.
"Are you happy now?"
Or, if not in pain, whatever the little hacker's done is almost always amusing to Barricade.
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