Rev
Cadet
Faster than a fast thing
Posts: 110
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Post by Rev on Mar 7, 2011 1:56:40 GMT -5
Rev just milled around for a bit more, wanting the others to go first so she didn’t have to go past them. She really was impressed with the track and roads laid out below, she found her self missing Velocitron once again. Would she ever stop being homesick?
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 7, 2011 22:42:41 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron looks vastly amused as Swerve arrives, defends them from overpriced drinks, and then is off again. Does Swerve even realise what he's doing? How he just protected their strange little crew from danger without a thought - even if it is a silly, minor, simulated danger and to their pocketbooks only?
He glances over at Sentinel and shrugs, admitting cryptically, "Simulations get into your heads. Hence why I preferred F.C.s."
Facsimile constructs.
Emirate Xaaron asks something bland and weak of Quench for his drink, wondering just how the simulation will handle his credits, for that matter. Then he trudges off down the way Swerve indicated.
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 15, 2011 20:57:19 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry! I missed this one!
Breakaway shrugs at Sentinel Prime. "Don't think too hard about it. It's not worth blowing your processor over."
"Hi Swerve," he says, waving as the racer shows up. When the little Velocitronian speeds away as abruptly as he showed up, Breakaway leaps into the air, transforms, and speeds after him. Well, not speeds, really. He's positively idling for a jet. He is flying high enough not to kick up a huge obnoxious dust cloud, though.
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Mar 17, 2011 21:14:18 GMT -5
Skid-Z walks off after Swerve's trail. Yes, walk. Otherwise he might tempt himself to race and.... well. It either ends with fighting, or getting filthy rich. Or both.
Or... dead.
((OOC: and I completely forgot he was in this thread!))
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 19, 2011 19:16:00 GMT -5
OOC: Not even sure where I am supposed to be now, so I am going to assume this position in rotation.- - - "Does my processor look like it's blowing? Because I assure you, my process is as un-blown as a processor can be," Sentinel Prime shoots back. He transforms and drives off in the direction that Swerve indicated. If Quench isn't real, only a figment of the simulation, it's not rude to leave him in the dust, is it? That's being rude to a fictional character. Is that even possible?
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Post by Swerve on Mar 22, 2011 22:06:13 GMT -5
Quench fills orders as they're given, but he does so with no enthusiasm. Those who follow Swerve will see after not too very long that none of the roadways visible from the canyon lip are the track today; he leads them downward, through a short tunnel and into areas made for unnerving the claustrophobic, all crowded spaces beneath low overpasses. The supports for the highways far overhead stand like a concrete forest.
The sounds of the gathering are audible long before it comes into sight. Dozens of Velocitronians, all with varying builds and states of repair, are clustered and shouting, laughing, throwing insults and jeers, challenging one another. None of them looks like a particularly savoury character by Autobot standards. Beyond them, one can just make out the lines and spars of crash-resistant fence, set up as a cage atop concrete retaining walls that enclose the track. Everything is temporary, prefabricated structures that can be slapped up and torn down as quickly as any batch of illegal racers could want.
Shrewd observers will note that many of these illusory Velocitronians wear no faction emblem, their only markings pertaining to clubs or specific rallies. Some, however, sport an angular purple logo somewhere on their persons, and there are more of them than the red counterpart.
"Move it!" Swerve bellows, ramming a teal and purple carbot in the backs of the knees, then transforming so that he pitches the other racer over his shoulder. This entrance does nothing to dampen the almost carnival-like atmosphere.
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Rev
Cadet
Faster than a fast thing
Posts: 110
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Post by Rev on Mar 23, 2011 1:58:51 GMT -5
Sadly Quench doesn’t get any attention at all from the other ‘real’ Velocitronian, Rev instead pulls a drink from thin air after giving the sim computer a verbal command. With her love for racing, it would be too easy to abuse the sim room and create a fantasy reality to replace her current one and get lost in it. She used simple tricks like the drink to remind her that none of this was real, because part of her wanted it to be real.
She follows after the group, despite her distastes for crowds, even artificial ones, Rev weaves through them with ease and grace, finding the gaps as they opened and closed. But then the crowd’s attention wasn’t on her and that always made it easier. It was still hard to believe that all those years ago, she had skirted around the races just like these and had managed to pass through with very little oil on her wheels – even as she was winning them.
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Skyfire
Major
I'm a scientist, not a....
Posts: 891
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Post by Skyfire on Mar 23, 2011 14:02:48 GMT -5
Oh, it's that sort of crowd. Skyfire lets his elbows and swing-wings drift wide, making space for his fellow Autobots through the crowd as they follow Swerve to his chosen vantage point.
His optics narrow slightly at the purple badges in the crowd; could be trouble. The big shuttleformer makes sure he knows where his friends are, just in case things get dicey.
--- skippable
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 27, 2011 11:17:45 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron looks around curiously, vaguely reminded of a pre-war Decepticon rally, though he knows the context is vastly different. He tries to distance himself from the rest of the Autobots and doesn't brush the dust from his form when it clings, filtering khaki over his gold. Emirate Xaaron only wipes the dust from his optics.
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 27, 2011 15:18:38 GMT -5
Breakaway transforms and touches down behind Skyfire, taking in the crowd. "Aren't those guys wearing Autobot and Decepticon sigils? Swerve's database entry said they didn't have factions here," he ponders, shouldering a carformer out of the way.
OOC: Skippable
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Mar 27, 2011 16:41:30 GMT -5
While Skid-Z did walk on the front line, he ghosts to the back over time. This has everything to do with him actually -being- claustrophobic!
The racer stops quite often, touching the walls and checking out the area. Lingering, yes. To calm his nerves. No way he's turning back in a simulation. No way he's turning back in front of these mechs just because of some tunnels.
When he finally gets out of the tunnels Skid-Z slips through the crowd to the rest of the group, falling in line like nothing was ever amiss.
-Skippable-
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Mar 27, 2011 20:50:53 GMT -5
"They didn't have factions here before Megatron showed up," Rodimus Prime corrects Breakaway.
(Yes, Rodimus is still here. Remember him?)
"I'd guess this is set up to mirror Velocitron as it was when Swerve was pulled. He arrived wearing an Autobot symbol, so factions had just started to trickle down at that point." He looks around, frowning. "Easy to see which side's more popular around here, anyway."
For his part, while he still has his usual, easy smile, he's somewhat subdued. He's here for the race, not to start a fight in the audience, after all.
OOC: Skippable.
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 27, 2011 21:10:32 GMT -5
Whoa, this looks like a rough crowd! Sentinel Prime twitches and looks for some... large rocks to hide behind or something. He needs cover in case this gets uglier than some of these racers' faces!
Oh hey, Skyfire is cover. Sentinel Prime pops over to Skyfire's side and opines to Breakaway, "It's a simulation. It doesn't have to be accurate."
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Post by Swerve on Mar 30, 2011 9:02:06 GMT -5
Diffidence on the newcomers' part seems to earn much the same from the crowd; some of the racers glance at them to size them up, some – wearing the Decepticon emblem – scowl at the visible Autobrands, but for the most part, the party will find themselves acknowledged and them largely ignored. Those Skyfire shoves aside curse and threaten, throwing gestures that are obscenely rude with context, but in the middle of laying their wagers, they get back to it before the bookie can ditch them.
The fliers do get a little more attention than those without wings; fliers are announcers on Velocitron, and announcers are largely a topside convention. It would take a truly nimble craft to overfly this course and call it, but the cramped setting and short track makes it unlikely they'd need one. Rev, gliding around like she's too good for the place, earns herself some virulent glares. Sentinel, cleaving to the protection afforded him by Skyfire's bulk, may eventually feel ghostlike hands poking at him once the crowd begins to close in – an assayer, testing his armour and alloys. Xaaron, polished as he is in his gold and silver, might find himself the recipient of similar treatment.
Swerve, meanwhile, shoulders and curses and shoves his way to the starting pen. He's noticeably lighter in his frame than several other contestants, all milling around in the caged-off area, and larger spectators have no qualms about trying to knock him down before he can clamber in and swing the door shut.
"It's about time you showed up, oilstain," says one competitor, a tall, lean-looking jobber done up in a dusty off-white and bright vermilion. A short but wide fellow behind him, wearing maroon and yellow-orange, snorts derisively.
"Go throw a rod," Swerve growls back. He pointedly doesn't look at the people he invited here. The bookies, however, do.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 4, 2011 10:22:30 GMT -5
Those hands will find that Emirate Xaaron is made out of denser metals than he looks. He's definitely heavier than someone his height and build should be.
But he's also touchy. It's like Emirate Xaaron to grab people, and if he's angry or annoyed, it's like Emirate Xaaron to grab people and shake them.
And he's been transforming more often, and when he's transformed recently, he's more aggressive and more likely to take risks.
Did they think he wouldn't notice, that he'd be distracted by watching the race? Emirate Xaaron, not trained at all in melee and grappling, makes a grab for one of those ghostly hands anyway.
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