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Post by Mirage on Dec 20, 2009 0:26:17 GMT -5
Day 3: Open thread, Autobots and Decepticons welcome!
Once given the go ahead, Mirage was one of the first to get off the Event Horizon and onto a shuttle heading planetside. He may be lacking in the coin of the realm, but the smell of money lingers on the aristocrat like that of waste clings to Rattrap. The spy had no trouble procuring his way (and the way of his companions, if any are with him).
Now, the arrogant spy is standing at the head of the swanky, high-roller entertainment district. Which, incidentally is not the same as the tourist district, oh no. You have to pay a hefty price just to walk here, and Mirage has done so, parting with a few lovely gems he'd been hoarding since Gillanan. These are the types of circles he is used to spying upon; hopefully, those with him (if any) can at least act the part of entourage.
Mirage is polished to the nines, his rifle stored away in subspace. There is an easy smirk on his lips and a rakish glint in his optics as he studies the shops, the gambling houses and bordellos, everything designed so that those with real money and power don't have to dirty their feet on common soil unless they choose to.
"Now," he muses aloud, "where to start? It all looks like such decadent fun."
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Post by SceneMod on Dec 20, 2009 22:17:19 GMT -5
It's a pretty area, to be sure, and they try to keep it just to the pretty people, though pretty pennies are also pretty enough.
Beating feet down the street is a rather harried looking robot. He stands around Mirage's height, with faceted, rocky planes, but oddly slender for his rocky build. He appears to be entirely made of pyrite, though that is likely just surface deep, for illusion.
At first, it isn't apparent what he's running from, but he certainly looks terrified, and that just isn't suitable for the neighbourhood at all! A shadow moves on one of the rooms.
Then, in the distance, some folks who definitely don't fit this neighbourhood tromp into view, chasing the gilded fellow. They're big and bulky, walrus-like aliens. They wear long, dark brown moth-eaten coats and hats pulled down low over their beady eyes.
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Dec 22, 2009 15:35:04 GMT -5
Spy Shot is certainly no high-roller - frankly he doesn't really get money, even though he understands the concept - but given his diminutive stature he doesn't really need to pass for a big spender. Seated on Mirage's shoulder as he is, the camera-bot is likely to be overlooked by many and easily passed off as some sort of exotic pet or toy to anyone else.
Not that any of that matters much to Spy Shot, he's just happy to be out and about on Pz-Zazz, taking in the sights. The fact that Mirage makes a fine vantage point is a bonus. His head swivels about every which way, taking in as much as possible and filing it away in his memory banks.
At Mirage's question - taken literally, regardless of whether or not the larger Autobot intended for it to be answered - Spy Shot's attention immediately hones in on the brightest and most colourful building he can see, ready to point it out as a potential starting point. He's distracted before he can speak, however, because there is a rather glittery, golden robot rather down the street.
Forget the frightened expression, forget the out-of-place goons, forget the robot is obviously being chased, Spy Shot remarks upon the first thing he notices: "That person is very shiny."
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Post by Mirage on Dec 22, 2009 18:01:28 GMT -5
Good thing Mirage is both pretty and has pretties to spare, eh?
"That he is Spy Shot- and most distressed it seems," Mirage says as he steps off to one side. First instinct is to stay out of things. This isn't his territory, and he's been told such goings on are normal for the planet.
But they should not be so normal for here he thinks. Those goons don't look like the type of high-paid bouncers you'd see chasing the unsavory element out of the Shining Streets. In fact, they look more like said unsavory element.
"Be prepared to hang on tight, little friend. Things are about to get most interesting, I think," he murmurs, before pitching his voice just loud enough for the sparkly individual to hear.
"Care for some help, or would you prefer I mind my own business?"
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Post by SceneMod on Dec 22, 2009 19:09:17 GMT -5
The shadow on the roof moves. He's hired security, and what the people want is security for themselves. Passer-bys, not so much. Get rid of the object of desire, and the pursuers will disperse. He draws a bead on the crystalline robot.
As, incredibly enough, Mirage addresses him, the gilded robot pauses just a moment, wavering uncertain, wild optics cast back at his hunters.
The shots rings out, right where he would have been. Clearly unused to the sounds of gunshots, he swoons, replying weakly, "If I have to ask, I suppose I don't want to know - but what will it set me back?"
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Dec 22, 2009 21:35:41 GMT -5
Spy Shot quickly scoots over to the nearest bit of armour he can clamp his little claws around, ready to hang on very tightly indeed. He seems to keep ending up in situations that involving clinging to running people. It's rather exciting, really.
It's a good thing he doesn't need to blink, otherwise Spy Shot might have missed the passage of the shot as it zipped through the space where the shiny robot didn't quite make it to. As it is, he barely registers what's happening at first, but a quick memory replay - at slightly reduced speed - clarifies the circumstances. A portion of the trajectory fixed in his mind, he extrapolates the rest of it, swiveling his head around to stare up at the gunner on the rooftop.
He could probably have accomplished the same pinpointing in a much easier fashion by looking in the general direction of the gunshots, but that's not the way he's wired.
"Someone is shooting at us."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 22, 2009 21:35:47 GMT -5
Rodimus Prime had let himself get distracted. After all, for all that he is Prime, Chosen One, leader of the Autobots, he's... never been the most refined individual. Interested enough in partying and having fun, certainly, but rough-edged. And so it is that he has to jog a few steps to catch up as Mirage encounters the strange, shiny mechanoid.
"Hey, what's going o-" is all he gets out when the shot fires. Automatically he spins, trying to step between the shiny rock-robot and whoever is attacking, his Photon Eliminator appearing from subspace. He lifts the weapon towards the direction where the shot came from, but then is forced to pause and search to see who did it.
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Post by Mirage on Dec 22, 2009 23:00:29 GMT -5
When the shot rings out, Mirage acts almost as fast as Rodimus, reaching out to grab the swaying robot and gently but firmly shove him into one of the few shadowed areas against the building, perhaps into an arched niche or overhang to obscure line of site, if one is available.
He does not yet draw his rifle, however.
"Watch yourself- and the rooftops, Rodimus. That shot didn't come from his pursuers," he says, over his shoulder, "And you're a bit too bright of a a target."
He looks back at Mr. Glitzy. "What help we can offer largely depends on what trouble you're in. Truthfully, I'm more concerned with keeping trouble out of this otherwise pleasant area." A pause. "Much like, perhaps, our mystery shooter. It would not be unheard of for such measures to be taken."
"Spy Shot? How good is that zoom feature of yours? Can you get a good scan of the roofs and overhangs?"
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Post by SceneMod on Dec 22, 2009 23:28:48 GMT -5
The gunman on the roof is wearing a drab, not quite black, but a rather somber grey outfit. But a security outfit. He's hired help in this district, and he has ever right to be here and do his job.
And now, the nice blue and white gentlemen is blocking his line of sight and preventing him from doing said job. Vexing.
The robot, caught out of his swoon, tries to lean against Mirage, not heavily, and he flashes a wan smile. "Call me Pyrite. You gentlemen new in town?" They would have to be. They even smell like it.
Meanwhile, the mooks start catching up, making up ground.
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Dec 23, 2009 11:06:25 GMT -5
"What am I comparing my zoom feature to?" he says. 'How good' is relative after all, isn't it? "I can get a good scan of the roofs and overhangs."
He's keeping track of the gunman as best he can, but his rather lower vantage point puts him at a disadvantage, given that the security guard can disappear behind the edge of the roof just by backing up or crouching down enough. He doesn't mention that he's watching the gunman, but then nobody asked him that. Besides, when he said 'Someone is shooting at us', he meant that he'd actually spotted the someone shooting at them. Otherwise he would have just said 'We're being shot at.'
He assumes that because this distinction is clear to him, it should be clear to everyone else. It probably isn't.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 23, 2009 12:20:11 GMT -5
Rodimus's free hand flexes for a moment, as though preparing to access subspace, and then he decides against it. He does offer a faint grin to Mirage, however.
"Of course I'm a big target! And anyone aiming at me isn't aiming for anyone around me, and I've got a chance of surviving most hits than most." He makes it sound like an intentional strategy, although it's a bit more complex than that. Hot Rod's decision was as much vanity as the instinct that he had even then to protect his companions. Rodimus Prime is as the Matrix made him, a combination of Hot Rod and other... but didn't the Matrix still remake him as 'Protector', too?
It's that protective nature that leads Rodimus to step between his companions (and Pyrite) and the approaching thugs, though his attention is divided due to the threat of a sniper. "Spy Shot, get that scan, and if you can get a look at that shooter, let us know if he makes another move."
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Post by Mirage on Dec 23, 2009 13:45:22 GMT -5
Mirage allows Pyrite to lean on him, but only just. He keeps just enough tension in his arms to allow the other robot to feel supported while still keeping metal-to-metal contact to a minimum. After all, they don't know this glittering gentleman from Alpha Trion. Not staying on guard would be foolish.
He quirks a brow at Pyrite, "New-ish, you might say, though I think my bodyguard there may have been here before, I can't quite remember. Still getting the lay of the land and such. But I've always been one to take the long odds. And you look outnumbered, friend."
"As Rodimus says, Spy Shot, if you can see the shooter, let us know, and provide a description, please." Mirage forgets how literally the camera-bot takes things, sometimes.
"And Rodimus, just because you can take the hits, does not mean I wish to see you do so. Holes in your armour could be a sign of weakness, and we really don't want to give people a false impression, now do we?"
//Forgive the presumption Rodimus, but I look and can act the type who would both want and could afford a bodyguard. It also helps divert any who may think kidnapping a newly arrived leader could be lucrative.//
//If it bothers you, we can just treat my wording as a euphemistic slip and be done with it.//
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Post by SceneMod on Dec 24, 2009 22:05:25 GMT -5
Pyrite doesn't seem to want to lean too heavily on Mirage. He's wary, quite wary, but he's covering it with blithe cheer. Pyrite is an actor, and if he couldn't hide what he was feeling, he wouldn't be a very good one.
He looks up at Spy Shot 6 for just a moment. What a tiny little robot! A child? But this is no place for a child. The little robot sounds naive like a child, however.
But Pyrite doesn't waste much time thinking about the little robot. The mooks are gaining, and he can't let them catch him. Instead, Pyrite tries to break into a run toward one of the venues here. It's a flight of steps down from street level, which makes it perhaps one of the cheaper venues, not that anything is inexpensive here.
There is a spotless sign saying 'Stainless', done up in very tasteful steel. A menu is affixed to the window, and the prices are quite cher, but all the items seem quite artful, cunning combinations of fuels and additives, catering to the machine and cyborg crowd.
Pyrite gestures and calls, "They can't fire in there!"
They just won't be able to get out, either.
The shooter on the roof moves.
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Dec 25, 2009 18:12:06 GMT -5
"Do you want a picture?" Spy Shot directs at Rodimus, though his optics never drift from scanning the roof top.
"I can see the shooter," he says. Keeping a close eye on the shooter, he begins to quickly rattle off a basic physical description of what he can see of the gunman, including his grey uniform. He cuts himself off from continuing into increasingly picky details as the shooter starts moving. "He is making another move."
The camera-bot is tempted to take a look at the venue Pyrite is pointing out, but he has a mission to carry out!
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 27, 2009 20:59:06 GMT -5
"I don't know, Mirage, holes in my armor also means that the other guy will only have the chance for one shot." Because Rodimus is still standing to respond.
//I'll play along for now, Mirage, but you'd better watch the order giving,// Rodimus answers over the radio, giving the spy a faint frown. To Spy Shot he says, "Only if you can do it without flash." He glances back at Pyrite, then looks at Mirage and nods. He's not too worried about trapping himself - he's used to getting into and back out of absurd situations.
For the moment, he stays where he is, between the mooks and the others, but if Mirage withdraws to the restaurant, he'll follow.
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