A wild Zippo appears

[Zippo]

Month 3, Day 2, Week 1, Event Horizon Rock room, Open to Red Team

Physics and Zippo had never exactly seen eye to eye, from the Maximal point of view, physics meant getting hurt. From the point of view oh Physics, Zippo was too heavy to fly and thus justified being targeted at every opportunity. And so it was today that Physics took another crack at putting the smackdown on the poor dark red transmetal Dimorphodon*.

One moment, Zippo was safe flying the skies of Cybertron, 500kph, a good several hundred metres up and rocket thruster idling at two thirds. The next moment, he had an airspeed of exactly zero, an altitude of belly on the rocks and his rocket thruster was idling at two thirds. Zippo needed a natural 20 to make the reflex save, he got a 12. The next thing he knows he's tumbling head over tail on the rocks until he shuts off the rocket from his partial vehicle mode and is laying flat, sprawled out on the floor. "Ow, my freaking head... Whoa!" golden optics with their vertical slit pupils take in the enormity of the room, the door and maybe the watchers too, optics right now filled with awe, confusion never stood a chance.


*OOC: Dimorphodon or pterosaur, not pteranodon, not dinosaur and definitely not pterodactyl, anyone get this wrong and Zippo will...will...will have his player shake his impotent fist at the screen.

[Override]

At least one of the current watchstanders is a red and white race car. Since she just took over the watch, it's possible that the other watchstander hasn't even shown up, and she's here alone. Either way, Override is most certainly not the sort of robot Zippo's used to dealing with back home.

Her optics flicker in surprise as the new arrival goes tumbling over the rocks, and she kicks her heels off the control panel to stand up and lean over the terminal, checking the new arrival for sigils, even if, at this point, she herself lacks them. "Woah! Live one!" she proclaims cheerfully, putting on her friendly face on, even as her hand hovers near the force field trigger.

[Zippo]

Zippo ignored the scratches that now marred his perfection, there wasn't anything he could do about them right now anyway. He looked up at the face that looked down upon him and thought that he must be now in Cybertron's ancient past somehow, what with the size of the room and everything else. He had had some experience with Transwarp travel and Chronophase displacement, he had emerged from his stasis pod 70,000 odd years in Cybertron's past after all. Zippo understood the technologies involved about as much as Wile E Coyote understood that if you can mailorder a catapult then you can order out for Chinese.

The Idea of being in the past excited Zippo, his Cybertron was a mess after the incident with Shokaract and half the populace gone mad with Angolmois addiction, and what better way to learn of history than straight from Mach Kick's mouth.

No Zippo didn't like to look up, it implied subservience, a lack of power, but unlike his scratches, it was something he could remedy. "Zippo Maximise". His wings folded up and back, facing each other and seperated into "fingers" that spread around the vtol fans now sticking out from his shoulders. Robot arms divided from his beast mode torso and pushed him up onto his unchanged legs. Beast head with it's gold Maximal sigil swung down to form the robot torso leaving his robot head in it's place atop his neck. And his tail telescopically shortened and bent up, no longer inline with his back strut, but still almost horizontal with the floor.

Wings, still functional, spread out while the vtol fans efficiently brought him aloft so that his optics were level with his watcher's. "Is this-this still Cybertron? Am I in the past? What-what cycle is this?" He looked back to the rocks which he had so embarrassingly tumbled down then back to the one whom he thought to have been watching them "Have you been expecting me yes-yes? Are there any-any other Maximals or Predacons here?". Such questions as Autobot or Decepticon, or Mech or Femme went politely unasked. Not so polite, he was obviously studying the watcher's frame, he/she/it was a lot more elegant, complex and overall impressive than the stories of the blocky ancients had led him to believe of the guzzlers that predated the Great Re-formating. SUch impressiveness merely heightened his own yearnings for power, both physical and social.

[Override]

Ah, Maximal, then. Well, that's all right. She can deal with Maximal. After Zippo's rapid-fire barrage of questions, she holds up her left hand and starts to count off on her fingers.

"In order. No. Probably. We're not sure. Not exactly. Yes."

She lowers her arms, then lifts them partway again, palms upward, in an exaggerated shrug. "The whole deal's a bit crazier than just time travel, and we're not sure why or how it's happening." Then she lowers her left hand and lifts her right, index finger towards the ceiling, other fingers curled loosely. "Time travel's a pretty good first guess, though!" she allows cheerfully. Then she reaches towards him, as though to shake his smaller hand. "By the way, my name's Override."

[Zippo]

Zippo had to shift his processor clockspeed up a notch to match answers with questions.

No, not Cybertron, some place else sized for the old guzzlers then. Interesting.

Probably time travel, posible lack of references. That was a little disconcerting then.

As to the date, goes with the previous.

Expecting not him but somebody, there was a watch set, whatever happened might be random but given the reaction of the watcher, not too unusual. Also meant that he wasnt specifically wanted, new ladder, fresh start, he could work with that.

Yes? Others? Now this could maybe make or break it depending on who the others were, he didn't know many to be sure, he would have to see how this played out.

He will shake Override's finger if that works. "Hi-hi, Zippo, at your service" Thats right, be polite, trying to be anything like intimidating will get Zippo nowhere, scrap, even trying to be impressive and awe inspireing in front of an ancestor isn't going to gain much altitude. "So what is the whole-whole deal then?" He picked the most direct and obvious question, he had so many many more but he figured they would get answered in their own time without him having to bug someone for all the answers up front.

To be certain, he would have put up the force field as soon as anyone hit the rocks and done the security checks first, safety first, but he wasn't aware of that right now.

[Override]

"Nice name," Override grins. The Velocitronian can certainly appreciate a fast-sounding name.

Still standing, she looks around the room, holding up a finger. "I think the- ah, there it is." She heads over to one of the corners, next to a small storage cabinet, and grabs a chair, one sized for Maximals but higher off the ground, with a ladder access. "Most of our furniture is sized more for folks my size than the little ones, since it's easier for someone small to sit in a large chair than the other way around, but we do try to, you know, accommodate the different sorts that show up as much as we can. Actually," she grins, offering the chair, "we got a couple of Autobots smaller than you on board!"

Whether Zippo takes his seat or not, she throws herself back down in hers. "There's something that's been plucking Transformers from different realities and time periods and plonking us all here in this dimension. At first we were all arriving on a planet called Gillanan III, and that's still happening," it's just that those are all NPCs that nobody cares about anymore, and the place where characters that get dropped go, "but we found out that they also show up on these rocks," she gestures.

"We're pretty sure, by the way, that those are chunks of Cybertron, but we found them on Gillanan. We're heading towards Cybertron, more or less, but we're still a good distance away. So far in this reality, we haven't found any evidence that Transformers exist. No energon, no references to our language, nothing. Weird thing is, we've run into a few... false starts, I guess you'd call it. Things like... there's a species that created the Transformers in at least one reality, and they're here, and they've even developed tech that's kind of similar, but... never got as advanced, never went the right direction.

"We don't know how those rocks got across the galaxy, we don't know what happened to Cybertron to cause it, we don't know what's been pulling us here, we suspect it has something to do with Unicron, who does exist here, and we're hoping to find out more once we get to Cybertron, but..." she shrugs. "This thing's been pulling 'Cons, too. Decepticons, Predacons, Vehicons... even Mini-Cons, but he's back on Gillanan and is on our side, anyway. Not really the same thing. They've got their own ship, and their own chunks of rocks. It seems like like draws like, mostly, but not always - some folks get unlucky and show up in a bad spot. Oh, and, uhm, we get a lot of DOAs."

[Zippo]

An easy grin appeared on Zippo’s reptilian face to match the one worn by Override, he didn’t have enough humility to not grin at a compliment. As his latest companion takes her seat, he does the same, it hardly felt dignified sitting so far off the ground but it was more energy efficient than hovering.

“So a whole-whole bunch of unknowns, a few logical guesses, and I’m going to guess-guess there’s no way yet to get back where we all came from-from huh?” Some of what Override said went right over his head but he felt he had the gist of it. On the whole it felt like a dream or a weird synth trip but both those options were almost completely alien to Zippo, he just wasn’t that sort. He shrugged and accepted what he could understand at face value for now.

“You’re talking about Quintasins* right yes-yes? I’ve heard a-a tale or two around the Predacon campfire how they may have been-been our creators, Autobots as a work force and Decepticons as a military force” he shrugged once more, of all the origin theories, it actually sounded the most practical. After being born on Earth, he somehow felt that organic life was more natural to this universe than all of Cybertron, Cybertronians and Energon – but that’s another thread.

He gave the DOAs some private thought, he was surprised that the time honoured tradition of looting the fallen was some how abhorrent to his fellow Maximals.

“We don’t have to worry about Unicron here-here do we?” because that had been a close one back where he came from, it felt like only yesterday they had managed to enlighten Shokaract, the comics weren’t too clear, it could have been yesterday, or even today.”

*misspell of Quintesson deliberate

[Override]

"That about sums it," Override says brightly as Zippo summarizes with 'whole bunch of unknowns and a few logical guesses.' "And yeah, no way back that we've found yet. Oh! And it's also worth knowing that when you pull two people who know each other... like, lets say we just got you, and tomorrow we get someone who knows you, but about a year into your future or something. That person won't recall you going missing. Either we're all being yanked from slightly different realities, or we're going to get put back when it's all done, only without the memories of what happened here."

"And yeah, I'm talking about Quintessons. We've run into them here, and so far they've been way too interested in us. If we had them in my reality, I didn't know about it, but my planet was out of the loop there for awhile, so..." she shrugs. "Who knows?"

Override's lips pull into a frown and she sighs. "Probably we will have to deal with Unicron eventually. Like I already said, we think he has to do with why we're being yanked here, and he's... big here. I mean, not large in size, he's always that. But there are bunches of religions built around him, more than anyone remembers seeing back home."

[Zippo]

“Oh great-great toothless gears, we got curious Quints and-and Unicron cults” Zippo sighed into his hands, digging through historical records was one thing, having that history hunt you down and press you flat between the pages of time was another.

The little maximal switched his thoughst to something more practical as he decided to stare at the ceiling for a moment collecting himself after the latest revelation of what might be in store for his future datatracks, then he gazed back to the red and white grounder. “So what’s the-the protocol now? I bet-bet my wings there will be some sort of security check if one isn’t happening as we speak-speak. I expect some sort of quarantine procedure.”

He tilted his head to his left at Override giving her a sidelong glance, an old saying played through his head, “I know I’m paranoid but am I paranoid enough?”, he wondered if he were the one who let his guard down, not the other way around. He was sure he was clean up to the point he just appeared on the rocks, right now he set his onboard computer to running basic scans, just because it would come back negative doesn’t mean there isn’t something there to find.

[Override]

Override is just so supremely confident in her ability to handle any trouble that comes her way that she doesn't need guard. Or so she thinks.

"Should be someone by in a bit to escort you to run through the security interview. Usually that's Kup, sometimes it's Springer, sometimes it's even Rodimus or Emirate Xaaron. They'll run you through who's and charge and figure out what division you should be working for, that sort of thing. Then one of the docs will do a general medical check."

Usually, that sort of thing happens 'off camera.'

[Rattrap]

It isn't that Rattrap planned to be late. He just got bogged down in paperwork – almost literally. His terminal froze on him when he tried to pull a couple of specific files for busywork on his watch. He's spent the last few minutes cursing and rebooting his terminal, and generally getting into a pricklier mood than usual. He walks in with a datapad in one hand, going through reports and profiles, trying to assign duty rotations for a few of his division members. He's also got an outline for some training exercises going in a second window, and periodically, he switches to that and scowls at it before tapping out a few more notes.

He stops dead in his tracks and looks up when he hears Override chatting with an unfamiliar voice. That belongs to an unfamiliar flying person.

"…So what'd I miss?" he wonders, free hand on his hip as he pantomimes a half-shrug with the datapad.

[Zippo]

Zippo was more thinking that if Magmatron had made his shell program infectious, then he might well turn the whole crew on this ship into Preds, but maybe that plot might be good for another episode in another season.

Medical check, that ought to be fun, hopefully no one gets it into their processor to re-re-program Zippo, otherwise they might find out Zippo’s name has more to do with fire than speed. Flamethrower, right to the face, not polite in anyone’s language… maybe Slag’s.

“Rodimus? Not THE Rodimus Prime, slayer of Unicron yes-yes?” Zippo was leaning forward in his chair, all his attention on Override and his/her words, if the Prime was here, then so was so much history he could learn direct from the legend.

The appearance of a somewhat familiar face startles the other Maximal from his thoughts, he points a finger and stammers “You’re…you’re…” actually he doesn’t know the name “one-one of Optimus Primal’s crew, on-on the Axalon yes-yes!”

[Override]

"New arrival," Override answers Rattrap cheerfully, gesturing towards Zippo. "Another Maximal. Name's Zippo. Erm..." she hesitates, and then turns towards Zippo. "Say, what's the time stamp of your pull point, anyway? Gonna need to know that. This, by the way," she nods her head towards Rattrap, "is Rattrap."

"And yeah, that Rodimus Prime. One of them, anyway, though I'm not sure about slain so much as destroyed his body and then trapped his essence in the Matrix, which is, I guess, one way to avoid universe-destroying black holes." Those suck.

[Rattrap]

There was a time Rattrap dreamt of being famous. Money, chicks, lots of free time. That time is not now; there is no money and the only chicks are holograms. And he's testy enough that he doesn't exactly feel like leaping for joy that somebody else he's never met in his inconspicuous, spectacularly unspectacular life recognises him. The last time this happened, it was an ex-girlfriend he hasn't had yet, and she's now in charge of the Event Horizon's fruit snack stash.

All he's saying is if he has to run into somebody who knows him even though he doesn't know them, can't it be a hot, limber babe with no emotional baggage and a big fetish for furry little blue-collar guys next time?

"Yo," is all he says, giving this Zippo a sour, lacklustre salute. Override's doing a bang-up job of handling the talking anyway.

[Zippo]

Zippo still has those dreams, maybe less on the chicks though, the only two that he can think of are Sonar with the hairy mutton chops and Antagony with her fantacism, though the eye-boobies are a win. Maybe Rattrap should sit him down one day and explain that “were all gonna die” possibly includes Zippo.

“Rattrap, hi-hi.” He responds with a friendly wave and positively ignores the sour look and pretends to ignore the smell.

“Umm pullpoint? Oh right, ahh <Just before BW Megs releases his virus just before BM starts>”

He turns back towards Rattrap and that less than friendly look, “It’s ok, I’m not gonna bite you no-no”. One; the smell and two; Rattrap is till moving.