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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 17, 2012 18:46:36 GMT -5
"'Hippy's' not a model-type," Imp grunts, then mutters, "Besides, onna the biggest problem with Max leaving was just how much power went with him. That ain't no kind of a threat."
Yes, Xaaron. Reformat Impactor into a Fortress Maximus or a Kup or, hell, even a Hot Rod. See how much that doesn't bother him.
She kicks the nearest thug to make sure he stays down, then turns to reach for the brain. "What's the point of even stealing these, anyway? Humans can't reboot from 'em..."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 8, 2012 22:26:49 GMT -5
Imp is such a challenge to troll, which just makes Imp all the more enticing.
"Experimentation, probably," Metatron says. and she pointedly looks away. She wants plausible deniability if Imp eats the brain.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Aug 9, 2012 16:47:44 GMT -5
"Maybe they just want to wipe the memory and use the processors?" Imp asks before taking a big bite of the brain. She says around the mouthful, "I wouldn't have thought the squishy stuff could operate any better than a proper computer processor, but apparently they haven't figured out how to make electronic stuff that's better than their own squish yet."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 14, 2012 21:10:14 GMT -5
"Maybe. Prometheus Black does not like machines very much," Metatron admits. "So, call the cops and get out of here?"
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Aug 15, 2012 20:23:32 GMT -5
Imp finishes her meal and makes a face. "I ain't callin'," she says as she gulps down the rest. "Just got my cell. Too traceable." That's one of the problems with the rise of cell phones and the death of pay phones: it gets a lot harder to make anonymous calls.
She stands and brushes her hands off on her pants. "Y'got a way of calling?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 24, 2012 20:12:45 GMT -5
"Aside from prepaid track phones?" Metatron asks, raising an eyebrow, "Yes."
She grabs the cellphone off one of the tied-up thugs. Problem solved!
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Aug 26, 2012 21:40:21 GMT -5
"You apparently think grave digging earns me more than it does," Imp snorts. "I only got the cell I do 'cos of you. Prepaids cost money, too."
She hnhs as Imp just grabs one of the thus' phones.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 28, 2012 20:45:37 GMT -5
Metatron makes the call, keeping it short and sweet. She tucks the phone back into the thug's pocket, looks to Imp, and says, in Cybertronian, "You never yanked out a Decepticon's radio to call back into his base and say he was dead?"
She's grinning.
"Time we weren't here."
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Sept 2, 2012 18:51:40 GMT -5
Imp shrugs. "Yeah, but it's not as fun grabbin' a cell phone off someone as rippin' out a radio," she smirks.
And then they aren't there.
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