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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Mar 22, 2010 15:17:42 GMT -5
Phobia peers after them as the group files in and takes a moment to consider his odds and the potential worth of whatever information he could retrieve. While he did have the innate ability to hide and not be found, he wasn't a spy in any manner of speaking. The blue mech stepping onboard the alien ship was potentially important, but his chances of getting caught were likely higher than his chances of actually gaining any useful information. Any information he could chance obtaining was likely more along the lines of space jet maintenance tips.
... And maybe the natural behavior of a happy, neurotic mechanic, going by the sound Mayday just made.
Stopping himself, he tried to wrangle his inner psychologist into a bag. If he got caught, the Autobots and the ticked off alien would only be the beginning of his problems. If he didn't, he'd get the chance to obtain a lot of personally interesting tidbits on all of these individuals- and potentially useful information for later use in future encounters with the Autobots.
In another life, the black bike would have instantly chosen to go. Now he hesitates counting the nano seconds as he weighs the pros and the cons... before finally, finally stepping silently onto the ship.
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 22, 2010 19:10:27 GMT -5
Breakaway has already followed the amoeba around a bend in the corridor by the time Phobia slips aboard the vessel, so his radar no longer has line of sight to the Decepticon, and thus the cycleformer goes unnoticed. Taking care not to step in the slime trail, he asks "Just out of curiosity, just what's in this stuff you're secreting?" Because powerful cleaning agents tend to not be kind to one's paint job.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2010 20:49:02 GMT -5
Alas, Mayday is too distracted by 'ew secretions' and 'organics are icky' to have noticed said secretions' lovely cleansing properties as of yet. But he is so very delighted by what they have down to this ship! Delighted enough to practically ship down the beautiful clean hallway after his squishy employer.
"So, uh, what sort of engine is this beauty packing?" he asks, sounding a little giddy.
Phobia doesn't have much to worry about from Mayday as far as detection is concerned. Once he gets within two feet of an engine he probably wouldn't notice if a herd of Omega Supremes went stampeded by.
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 23, 2010 22:17:53 GMT -5
It's worth noting that the paint on the space ship's walls and floor is in good condition, but it could be special paint.
However, the list of chemicals that the amoeba burbles out, once you remove the extra b's and other syllables, should sound very familiar to Mayday, at least.
"Werb powerebd by mibtobic propulsion," the thing burbles. There are probably extra b's in there, too.
"Blub theb engibneer canb tellb youb more," he adds as he turns and enters a room. It is dominated by a large, strange-shaped, semi-transparent container that seems filled with a liquid of some sort. Attached are several monitoring devices and other alien looking equipment. In the room is a partially translucent figure, another amoeba-ish thing, this one thin and yellowish and vaguely reminiscent of a see-through omelet. It blurbles towards the guide-amoeba in a language that can't be understood by the Transformers, and the guide blurbles back. Then, suddenly the alien omelet lifts from the ground and flies straight towards Breakaway! Should it miss Breakaway, it will then steer towards Mayday!
OOC: The, erm, omelet is trying to attach itself one of the Autobots, preferably Breakaway but if not, it will try for Mayday. If it does succeed, it will possess the Autobot. This can be seen as a partial possession, as the Autobot's personality will still mostly be in control, but its mind would be somewhat merged with the alien omelet. If the possession happens, the player of the possessed character will still run both their own character and the omelet (while it's attached), and I will answer any questions about what the omelet knows (I'm available through AIM, or you can PM Rodimus)
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Mar 24, 2010 17:55:08 GMT -5
Phobia isn't quite sure what he'd just gotten himself into. He was, however, already inside the ship. He could step outside again (and get some odd looks), stay here and gibber in panic for a while, or he could accomplish his goal and be vaguely useful.
'One level up'.
If the black bike hadn't dealt with aliens before, he would've surely thought it was going to be easy. As it is, it looked he was going to pretend to be a spy for a while and he really, really hoped it wouldn't blow up in his face.
OOC: Skippable.
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 24, 2010 18:20:13 GMT -5
As the yellow amoeba launches itself toward Breakaway he deploys his gatling gun, but his forearm hasn't even had time to completely reconfigure before the creature splatters onto his nosecone. His right optic twitches and his gun retracts, then his left hand starts flexing and he holds it up in front of his face.
"Ack! What? No. NO, slaggit! Okay, fine, I wouldn't want to offend your culture or whatever. A little warning would have been nice, though. No, you stay out of the motor controls. Because they're mine, that's why! I don't care how fascinating my internal mechanisms are, this is neither the time or the place for me to transform! No, just- Well now that wasn't very- At least let me get a word in edgew- Fine, then, if you're gonna be that way about it."
Breakaway has apparently finished talking to himself for the moment. And you thought Mayday was going to have the mental breakdown.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 24, 2010 20:29:48 GMT -5
That list of chemicals is extremely familiar to Mayday and he suddenly looks very serious, shooting sidelong glances at the amoeba. You can almost see the gears in his head turning as he debates the merits of either kidnapping his employer to use as a living dispenser of cleanser or simply throwing himself on top of the poor alien and rolling around until he's sparkling clean.
His employer is saved from Mayday's unsavory attention as they enter the engine room. "Oooooh." The mechanic's eyes sparkle as he looks upon the aliens' engine systems with the same curiosity and fascination a child might direct at a glittering robot unicorn. Gravitating towards the equipment like a moth to a flame, he almost doesn't notice when the yellow amoeba launches itself at Breakaway.
Almost.
Squealing like a stuck pig, Mayday recoils from Autobot and omelet and freezes in twitchy-eyed horror as Breakaway engages in some sort of fit of one-sided conversation. "Ghck."
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 24, 2010 21:17:34 GMT -5
The clear amoeba undulates and then speaks. "Imb sorry. Heb, ermb dibn't warn me, eibber. Ib think heb thinks ibble be easier thib way." He slithers towards the Autobots, adding, "Ilb make surb to compensate."
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 24, 2010 21:40:08 GMT -5
Breakaway silently wonders if all mechanics are hopelessly eccentric or just the ones he knows.
Looking down at Mayday, he says "So apparently this thing- sorry, this guy," and he points to the yellow undulating goo on his nosecone, "is the ship's engineer. He says his name is- Okay, there's no way I can pronounce that. Because I'd have to pump fluid into my vocal apparatus. No you may not! Let's just call him Bubbles. Anyway he- sorry, it, doesn't speak a language we can understand and needs outside expertise to fix the ship's mitotic drive. It's- whoa, slow down! I'm a sniper, not a mechanic! One five-credit word at a time! So apparently the ship's mitotic drive operates by stimulating cell division in domesticated microorganisms via nanites. And then the cells. . . Layman's terms please, Bubbles?" Breakaway stops talking for a moment to slap himself. "Okay, I'll stop calling you Bubbles. Anyway, the cells are engineered to somehow produce a lot of excess chemical energy when they divide, which is used to power the ship. Hmph. Seems needlessly complex to me. Oh, excuse me. 'Elegant' then. So apparently, this thing," and he points to the omelet again, "is skilled with the tiny robots and the tiny lifeforms, and they have a larger-scale mechanical problem and can't figure out what's wrong." The jetformer looks down at Mayday expectantly and notices what looks like a panic attack. "Please don't freak out. This is no picnic for me, either."
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 25, 2010 11:52:09 GMT -5
"Buh- guh-" Mayday is still a bit shell-shocked by the whole strange organic flinging itself at Breakaway thing and oh, ew, what if it had done that to him? Though if Bubbles produces the same sanitizing secretions as his employer than maybe that wouldn't be so bad- but, augh, no! Icky organic touching him-!
But despite being thoroughly wigged out, he still manages to pay attention to Breakaway's awkward description of the ship's drive. It does seem to be a rather brilliant system. Disgusting, but brilliant. How relieved he is that the issue isn't directly with the microorganisms involved. Machines he can deal with. The ones that aren't people, anyway.
"Er, um," he says weakly, then makes a coughing noise and says more confidently. "Uh, right. Mechanical problems are what I'm good with. So, the engines won't come online, was it?" He moves closer to the main drive apparatus, peering curiously at one of the monitor devices though he can't read it.
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 25, 2010 12:33:24 GMT -5
The clear amoeba shudders. "Web habe a nabtural dibtrust ofb things web cabnot seeb through," he explains. "Youb nebber know whab might be hidden. Sob ourb kind areb nobt sob good wib large mechcanibal things."
On the monitor, there seems to be a lot of red, because somehow, even giant space amoebas have managed to pick up 'red means bad' symbology. This is particularly amazing because the species can't actually distinguish colors.
As the for the problem itself, it's not immediately visible. There is a clear case containing tools nearby, already opened and ready for use.
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 25, 2010 19:53:50 GMT -5
Breakaway lurches forward, and stumbles a bit before catching himself. "Let me work the legs, okay? I'm pretty top-heavy. Because I have like half a Joint Strike Fighter hanging off me. It's an aircraft. From . . . stay out of my memory files! Hey, if I want to look at pictures of fighter jets with their engine cowlings removed, that's my business. Nevermind why!"
As the jetformer plods over to a control console, he mutters, "And you better not be secreting anything that's gonna mess up my nose-art, either. That's a custom paint-job." He reaches down and manipulates the controls, then reconfigures a finger and plugs it into an interface port. The monitor flickers and indecipherable alien text is replaced with Cybertronian glyphs and a diagrammatic model of the ship's engine and connected systems. Breakaway turns to Mayday and says "Does this help?"
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 27, 2010 10:57:54 GMT -5
"Huh, maybe you guys should build your stuff out on transparent polymers," Mayday mutters idly as he looks over the monitor. "Then again, it'd probably be more expensive to produce stuff that works the way you want it to. Or impossible. I don't know."
Mayday doesn't make materials, he just makes things with them when they're given to him.
"Oh, uh, thanks," he says belatedly to Breakaway/Bubbles, tracing his finger along several connections between parts of the engine that are lit up in red. Tapping on one particular point, he straightens up and heads for the tool box, sorting through and mentally categorizing the various tools. As he searches for what he wants, he calls over his shoulder, "So, what do you know isn't the problem?"
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 28, 2010 19:38:03 GMT -5
"Transbparent polybmers arb a bit out ofb ourb price range," the clear amoeba admits, sounding a bit embarrassed at having to use such a sub-par material.
While clear isn't the mechanic, he has heard something of the problem. He explains, "Sombthing's wrong wibth the mechabmism thab feeds theb nabnites intob theb stew. It's nob a clog, but web don't knowb whab it isb."
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 28, 2010 20:27:17 GMT -5
Breakaway is silent for a moment, listening to the bubbly voice in his head, then he points to various spots on the diagram displayed on the monitor and says, "The nanites self-replicate in this tank here, then get pumped through these ducts into the mitotic drive chamber here. How much of the solution with the nanites in it is pumped in depends on the how much power the ship is drawing, which is apparently regulated by whatever this doohickey is."
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