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Post by Swerve on Oct 8, 2007 23:39:21 GMT -5
Accident or no, Swerve sees what he sees, without the advantage of Synapse's different perspective or the alternate angle of an external camera. What he sees is Bluestreak knocking over the ballot box and then reaching down, messing with the already-dropped votes. That's enough to register as an attempt to tamper, especially with his heightened aggravation.
"Back off!" he snarls, grabbing for the first part of Bluestreak he can reach – shoulder, door – and half-dragging, half-shoving the grey gunner away from the box1. If he notices the grind of broken and dislocated parts in his damaged hand as he forces it to clamp down and hold, he gives no indication. He just glares, yellow gleam dangerously bright behind the metallic coat of his optics. "You made yer vote, now leave it!"
1 - Grabbing and general man-handling done with permission of Bluestreak's player.
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Post by Kup on Oct 10, 2007 8:02:58 GMT -5
It's about this time that Kup meanders over. He misses the man-handling of Bluestreak, but catches the tail end of the shout. The veteran raises a brow-ridge, then just shakes his head.
He sees that Sideburn has the metal and the stylus, and shouts to the youth, "Hey, go ahead and tear that sheet in half, Sideburn. I've got another stylus; we may be able to move this along a bit quicker."
Since he's had a couple of days, Kup actually had time to make this stylus. He didn't hijack it from Perceptor.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Oct 10, 2007 8:50:57 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron covers half his face, the dented half, with a hand when Bluestreak fumbles the ballot box. Then, the inevitable violence ensues. Of course, Emirate Xaaron is the one who installed the violence inherent in the system, but there had to be some method of deterring tampering, and their resources are limited. This has to be the most brutal vote he's seen. Idly, Emirate Xaaron decides that mud-wrestling Jazz, Holi, and Kup for the leadership position probably would have caused less injuries.
Still waiting for Firebolt to show up, he waves politely to Kup and greets, "Good cycle and good luck."
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Bluestreak
Rookie
Silence is golden, but the motormouth is silver...
Posts: 213
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Post by Bluestreak on Oct 10, 2007 11:18:27 GMT -5
Bluestreak staggers back, tries to regain his balance, fails, and lands on his aft, his processor still trying to wrap itself around what just happened. He winces as he examines the doorwing Swerve grabbed -- not dented and barely scratched, really. He's more startled and embarassed than anything.
"Sorry, Swerve... ah... wasn't trying to mess with things... just trying to clean up..." He wonders if he's just making things worse.
"I'm gonna go get Perceptor so he can vote," he says rather quickly, then drops to the ground, assuming Datsun mode, and shoots off as fast as his engine can take him.
OOC: Out of thread to go poke Perceptor into voting.
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Firebolt
Major
Brutal Gladiator, Scarab Lord Firebolt of the Shattered Sun
Moving Violation
Posts: 575
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Post by Firebolt on Oct 10, 2007 22:47:53 GMT -5
Firebolt staggers up after Transforming, not in particularly good mood that day. She casts a glare could almost make you wonder if she PMSes. But being a robot...
Spotting the group, she hisses, her engine rumbling in a low way. "What. What do you want now? My alarm set me off in the morning when I was sleeping, my paint job is all off this morning, my internal cooling system isn't working and I AM NEVER GOING TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND AT THIS RATE. I hate this planet, I hate this place, and guess what! I hate politics. Democrats, Republicans, have a bloody Nazi in power for all I care!"
She crosses her arms, staring at the group. "What."
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Post by Slingshot on Oct 10, 2007 23:00:32 GMT -5
Slingshot saunters into the plaza on the heels of Firebolt's outburst. He catches the tail-end of it, enough to draw a derisive snort from him.
"Between you and the Barbie-car, I'm starting to think being a 'female' Transformer is a bigger problem than being a jet afraid of heights."
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Oct 10, 2007 23:02:46 GMT -5
Between the punching, tripping, spilling, shouting and grabbing going on in the plaza. Synapse finds himself wishing more and more that he can just melt away into the pavement, or perhaps sneak away in all this confusion. But...he can't. Instead, the scout just systematically places the rest of the ballots within the voting box and rights the thing again.
Bluestreak's stammered reaction to Swerve's handling only serves to extend Synapse's empathy for the other mech further. The grey mech really was a nice bot, even if he did talk a lot.
When Firebolt enters the scene with her shouting. Synapse shrinks back a little further, trying to put a bit of distance between this chaos and himself. This is definitely far from what he expected from a peaceful vote.
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Sideburn
Rookie
Must not chase Swerve, must not chase Swerve...
Posts: 211
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Post by Sideburn on Oct 11, 2007 8:22:20 GMT -5
Sideburn gives Kup a nod. "Alright!" And he promptly does rip the sheet in half, tossing one half to Kup before tearing off a bit from the half he kept. The rest of the sheet gets passed to whoever's nearest that needs it.
He's about to write down his vote when Firebolt storms in and rants, startling him. "Whoa! Hey, calm down there, Firebolt." He holds up his hands in a placating gesture. Not that he could really do anything to help her except for maybe looking at her cooling system.
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Grimlock
Major
There's no crying in Basebrawl!
Posts: 637
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Post by Grimlock on Oct 11, 2007 16:53:55 GMT -5
Grimlock takes the metal from Sideburn, then looking at Firebolt with a most confused and irritated look. He then shakes his head, and waits for the stylus after tearing off a piece of metal to write on.
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Post by Swerve on Oct 11, 2007 18:40:33 GMT -5
With all this talk of violence, you'd think Swerve pounded the bolts out of Bluestreak. Primus' sake, all he did was shove the kid around. Sure, he could've hit him once or twice; would that have been better?
Swerve ignores most of the side chatter after his little bit of rough-housing, and after Firebolt's… bizarre rant, but the rant itself garners a moment or two of thought. What the smelt is she going on about? Hate? Cooling system problems? Smelt, this scraplet of a car doesn't know the first fragging thing about malfunctioning cooling systems, and that's exactly what Swerve's glare says as he fixes it squarely on her.
"I'll tell you what," he barks, scowling, and stabs a finger at her with his undamaged hand. "You shut that nonsense-makin' trap o' yours–" He points rather violently at the queue. "–You get your aft in line–" He points again for emphasis. "–And you wait t' make your vote like the rest of 'em!" And if Firebolt wants to talk to the candidates that bad, Swerve figures they can smelting well stroll by her or something.
He can always drag her into the queue if that's how she wants to play it.
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Post by Perceptor on Oct 11, 2007 18:59:10 GMT -5
Anyone with particularly good audio receptors may, shortly after Bluestreak vanishes, note a soft *whumph* sound, like that of a muted explosion almost, from the direction of the base - specifically Repair. It's not a loud sound, really, and there's no obvious physical sign of whatever it was that made the noise, no alarms, no one running around shouting, no reason to worry, even for those who actually noted the ignorable bit of audio disturbance.
Of course, those that had noticed it, may not be quite as perplexed, then, when Perceptor wanders up from that same direction shortly afterward, the entirety of his structure covered in smears of soot in a low velocity blast pattern. His chin is cupped in one hand, that arm braced between his other and his chest - Perceptor is deep in thought. Very deep in thought, as he hasn't even seemed to have noticed any of the ballot box drama that he's unwittingly wandered into.
No, he doesn't notice it at all, barely even notices the other mechs present as he meanders up to Grimlock, gingerly plucks the sheet of metal from the dinobot commander's hand, tears off a small piece, and pulls a stylus out of subspace. Xaaron's name is swiftly noted in the scientist's typical neat penmanship before the ballot is stuffed into the box.
"Perhaps if the polarities were reversed... Hmm... Or a junctional relay buss. Hmm... A junctional...."
Metal sheet and stylus both absently handed off to whoever happens to be closest and accepts them - or set on the nearest convenient flat surface if no one accepts the items - Perceptor's chin drops back into that hand, and off he wanders again, utterly oblivious.
It's a very good thing that those had all been Autobots there, as Perceptor would have totally wandered into a Decepticon oilbar and never noticed at this rate.
OOC: in and out in the same post, unless someone actually runs up and grabs him to stop him. And it will take physically grabbing him to get his attention. Folks have permission to do so if they so desire.
Current Tally - Xaaron : 6 votes, Kup : 1 vote
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Post by Kup on Oct 11, 2007 19:16:17 GMT -5
Kup absently catches the metal sheet Sideburn tosses his way, taking in the bickering, the shouting, and the general ill-will. It would all seem to confirm his opinion of the appropriateness of democracy as a system of government amongst Autobots.
"Good luck to you, too, Emirate," the veteran answers Xaaron as he considers the scene, and he means it. After all, for Kup, 'good luck' means losing. He considers the scene, and says, "Y'know... this kind of reminds me of the elections held on Chirellis V a couple centuries back." He rubs his chin thoughtfully and mutters still clear enough to be understood, "If I remember right, that one devolved into open warfare in about a week's time."
Hopefully things won't go so bad here!
Kup might have had something to say to Firebolt's entrance, but Slingshot and Swerve seem to have the situation in hand, so instead he just tears off a piece of metal, writes down Xaaron's name, and puts his ballot into the box. Then he passes both metal and stylus off to whoever is nearest, or sets them down if no one takes them, and approaches Firebolt.
"Y'wanted to meet the candidates? I'm here. If you've got any questions, make them quick. I've got work to do."
Current Tally - Xaaron: 7, Kup: 1
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Oct 11, 2007 21:12:06 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron regards Firebolt coolly. This is one of his constituents? Leaking Primus. Maybe Starscream's hiring. Still, he cannot bring himself to agree with Slingshot's sentiments. Reminds him too much of the trash the Decepticons were spouting on the general channel. How would Slingshot like it if people said that all jets have a problem just because Dirge is gloomy?
He politely waves to Firebolt and observes, "I really have no idea what Democrat, Republican, or Nazi is. Earth terms? You can call me Emirate Xaaron. You must excuse me for never leaving Cybertron. I had a war to fight."
At the sight of Perceptor, he remarks, "Are you quite all right?" However, the scientist must not hear him.
Kup's memory causes Emirate Xaaron to cross his arms and tap his foot. He says lowly, "What were you doing on Chirellis V?"
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Nimbus Tsura
Major
Secretary to Mr. Breakaway
Sky-Painter Extraordinaire
Posts: 735
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Post by Nimbus Tsura on Oct 11, 2007 21:19:12 GMT -5
Windows may be rattled as the Valkyrie comes thundering in, but Skyblast is careful to not break any with the shockwave coming off his nosecone. Keying up his engine exhaust, he writes in the sky, 'Vote for Jazz'. Then, he transforms a short distance above the ground, somersaults, and lands neatly on his hands. Skyblast bounces to his feet and looks around. Rubbing the back of his helmet, he quips, "I think I did more 'late' than 'fashionably'. Shoot."
Shrugging, he heads to the end of the line.
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Omega Supreme
Minor
Shorter and Coloured Funny but Still Angry as the Pit
Posts: 456
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Post by Omega Supreme on Oct 11, 2007 21:50:28 GMT -5
Omega Supreme is an actual person. The Autobots here have been oddly good about remembering that fact. It's made adjusting easier for him. He tromps into the area, careful of stepping on anything that looks important. Long, long ago, he used to hang out with builders, and he learned then that making an architect cry over a toppled lamp post is one of the worst things he can do. Perhaps he should mourn that his capacity and will to do harm has increased so much since then.
He duly takes his place at the very end of the line, unaware that his very existence might shock some who didn't think the odd Cybertronian styled base was anything more than an inanimate location.
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