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Post by Long Haul on Jul 26, 2010 21:10:01 GMT -5
"Naw. One attempt in a day is prolly plenty," Long Haul casually answers Swerve. He looks back at Breakaway and nods. "Yeah, Long Haul, and... I dunno. No offense, but I kinda have a had time telling whole face from caved-in face with you guys." Given that Long Haul essentially has no face, this may sound odd. But then again, it's pretty easy to tell whether the plain sheet of metal with a single eye-hole that serves as 'face' for him is broken or not. "But we eventually knocked 'im out, if that helps." He inclines his head towards Firebolt. "Don't mention it. S'what we're here for. Well, okay. None of us know what we're here for. But that's why we're all travelin' about on the same ship together, right? And not, y'know, the other one." OOC: As a heads up, I'm not positive we're going to be able to get someone actually able to RP the repairs in thread, since, like, half the medics we have are in here and immobile, although there's no reason not to just RP sitting around and chatting for as long as folks are enjoying it.
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Post by Breakaway on Jul 27, 2010 1:13:05 GMT -5
Breakaway lies back down on his berth, the back of his head clanking against his cockpit. "You know Swerve, some robots would have learned a valuable lesson about their anger being their own worst enemy from that whole debacle. You know, when they got beat up by someone bigger and angrier?" The little Ferrari is really bothered by the fight, it seems. "No problem, Firebolt. Like Long Haul says, we're Autobots. We look out for each other."
"I'm Breakaway," he tells the ceiling, though presumably his words are meant for Long Haul. He snorts. "Heh. None taken. Yeah, Bonecrusher and the Constructicons kinda have scrunched up little faces. You ask me, all the 'Cons from my reality look like they fell out of the ugly spire and hit every spike on the way down, but I'm biased. We can't all be talented, good-looking, and wonderful, right?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 27, 2010 12:01:55 GMT -5
As Thomas Fink and Yong Mao, physicists at the University of Cambridge, proved, there are 85 ways to tie a tie. Emirate Xaaron is playing with one of those ways to tie a tie, a Western tie, in fact, absently, as he enters the medical ward. He looks up, taking in just who all is here, mutters something to himself, and puts the tie away.
There's Swerve, who Emirate Xaaron sometimes allows to punch him in the face. (It is complicated.) There's Breakaway, who seems like the perfect model soldier and therefore probably has some deep dark secret, because seriously. There's faithful, loyal Long Haul, a civilian dragged into this idiotic war and who actually does have a deep, dark secret that just hasn't happened yet. There's Firebolt, who is rather eccentric, to say the least. There's Skid-Z, who finally seems to have been slowed down for once, albeit against his will.
Emirate Xaaron places one hand on his hip and the other one out and up, demanding, "Normally, it would be the ranking officer's duty to explain what in the name of Iacon's Celestial Spires just happened, but as Skid-Z looks a bit out of it... who wants to go first?"
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Rattrap
Major
Sarcasm as a Lifestyle
Posts: 695
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Post by Rattrap on Jul 27, 2010 18:01:30 GMT -5
Sharp eyes and not so sharp noses will notice that Rattrap has hitched a ride on Xaaron's shoulder; they were both going the same way, conveniently enough, and Xaaron is just the sort of chap to give Rattrap a lift so he doesn't have to run his tiny, shiny butt off to keep up. One of many reasons Rattrap likes him.
Given that Rattrap was planning on asking after this disaster, especially since the bot who's supposed to be his 2iC is involved, having a perch that's closer to eye level with these bigjobs makes it easier. What's a nice thank you gift to the boss who has everything, lets you do horrible things to 'Cons as long as you don't get caught, sits on the floor, and carts you around so you don't have to warp your neck looking up all the time? A fruit basket? The collected works of Euripitron?
Yeah, Rattrap doesn't know, either.
He peers at Skid-Z first of the bunch… but Skid-Z looks like he's playing the space cadet card. Swerve and Breakaway look like the result of a head-on collision at 500 miles per hour. Firebolt's a chatty one – or so Rattrap's heard. She's seemed as interested in socialising with him as he's interested in kissing Dinobot. She might not be too talkative with him here; who knows? Long Haul ain't so bad, though, for a roomie who's usually not in the room. (It's probably a good thing in the long run that Glyph moved in; otherwise, Rattrap might've never bothered cleaning up.)
OOC: Perching on Xaaron with permission. Skippable for now unless addressed.
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Firebolt
Major
Brutal Gladiator, Scarab Lord Firebolt of the Shattered Sun
Moving Violation
Posts: 575
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Post by Firebolt on Jul 27, 2010 18:25:52 GMT -5
Firebolt looks up and waves, and is about to say something, before she thinks better of it, and then leans back a bit. She is choosing to think about what to say first, and to describe what happened first, before just blurting things out.
She curls her hands up against herself and tilts a bit to the side and says, "I'll say something, just give me some time to think about how to say it in a report sort of way. I don't want to mess it up, sir."
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Post by Swerve on Jul 28, 2010 12:08:32 GMT -5
That's a voice Swerve recognises, even garbled, and he groans another curse at the shiny gold blur on the other side of the room.
"You too?" he mutters. He'd roll onto his side and ignore Xaaron if he could just move. "These fraggers lead me on, then – gnn – slag-suckin' Decepticons show up… now you?"
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 28, 2010 20:48:12 GMT -5
"So he was Bonecrusher after all," Long Haul mutters, tone glum. He looks up at Breakaway and his optics flicker. "Wait, what was that you said about Constructicons?"
Then Emirate Xaaron arrives, distracting him. "Erm. It was already half done when I finally got there, sir. Swerve and I got inna brawl with a big ol' bruiser. Gotta say, Breakaway's Bonecrusher is way bigger'n the one I know." He rubs his chin and tilts his head thoughtfully. "Pretty comparable angry levels, though."
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Post by Breakaway on Jul 28, 2010 21:41:13 GMT -5
"Yeah," Breakaway responds. "And he's a real mean fragger. He's not a Constructicon, but his head kind of looks like theirs. They're a mass-produced series of body types in my reality, and real heavy hitters."
Officer on deck! Breakaway would salute, only he has a line in his arm. "Let's see, I was out doing some recreational flying when I spotted Firebolt, Skid-Z, and Swerve. They were looking for a clear road to race on and, um," here his tone shifts to one of embarrassment, "I tried to play intel and completely dropped the ball, because I had spotted an empty stretch of elevated road earlier, but it turned out it was empty because it was closed off for street repairs. Skid-Z and Firebolt headed for the road, but Swerve didn't want to race against them, so I . . .kinda taunted him a little to get him to chase me over to where everyone was. So everyone was racing along, when Firebolt fell and Skid-Z and I stopped to help her up. Swerve kept going, and ran right into Wreckage and Bonecrusher," here he turns his head a little to eye Swerve, "even after I warned him they were there. He engaged the 'Cons, we went in to back him up, the 'Cons kicked our tails, then Long Haul, Override, and Farlane turned up to bail our afts out of the fire." Breakaway has pointedly avoided mentioning Swerve shooting at other Autobots. If he wants to confess, that's his business.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 28, 2010 21:59:27 GMT -5
The old buzzard enjoys having a shoulder rat. Rattrap adds +10 to his Shady.
Emirate Xaaron counsels mildly, "Firebolt, don't get too hung up on the formatting. The important thing is to be clear on the order of the events and not to try to over-embellish the details - the mind can play tricks on a 'bot. The boilerplate can come later."
He grins at Swerve, sweeps over to him, and holds a hand to his chest and the back of his other hand to his forehead, mock-bemoaning, "Swerve, I assure you, I'm not 'leading you on'. I thought we really had something!" There is an injoke here that most people are not going to get, and really, it's probably going to just grind Swerve's gears. But more seriously. "I am, however, your leader, and if you'd like to see less of me, I'd suggest staying out of trouble. The sooner you give me your complete account, the sooner I'll go away. So how about it, hmm?"
Long Haul gives a short account, but he at least gives one, and... Breakaway continues to be Mr. Model Soldier. Spooky! Emirate Xaaron listens attentively to the account and mulls it over. He says levelly, "In the future, provocation of fellow Autobots is to be avoided, if possible. As far as racing goes, I suppose that cars will be cars." He wouldn't know. He's never been a car. "But I do believe that Pz-Zazz has race tracks that can be rented, in the long run, the cost of that would likely be less, considering this whole mess, and so you're saying that Swerve publicly engaged the enemy, knowing that we have to lay low on this world, when going a different direction was an option?"
Emirate Xaaron frowns over at Swerve and crosses his arms. C'mon, explain this mess, Swerve.
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Firebolt
Major
Brutal Gladiator, Scarab Lord Firebolt of the Shattered Sun
Moving Violation
Posts: 575
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Post by Firebolt on Jul 29, 2010 12:53:35 GMT -5
"Oh, sorry, sir, I thought there was some sort of important way things had to be done," she admits in embarrassment, and looks down at herself, before looking up.
"What has been said is really it. There was racing to be done, but the road wasn't as clear as we thought it was. I sort of fell off into a hole in the road but caught myself, and Skid-Z and Breakaway helped me back up. Swerve was racing too, but he didn't stop to help and instead, ran into the Decepticons! Both of 'em were really mad and ugly, and then we started fighting. It was a very large shootout!"
She pauses to think and then nods a bit, "Wreckage, I think his name was, decided to focus on me, and I fought back. I did pretty ok, but got shot at a lot. My knees went out then. Wreckage got the better of me at one point, and almost was going to impale me with a piece of metal. That was really scary... But then not, because Breakaway decided the road was an enemy too and shot it out from underneath all o' us. I hafta still smack him for that."
"I dunno what happened then cos I fell and everything went black. When I woke up, the other ugly one, the one with a smooshed face, was dragging me out from under the rubble by my leg. Swerve came in and shot him up somethin' fierce!" She pumps one of her hands up a bit, like punching at the air lightly, "That's when Override came in and saved me. And then Breakaway, Skid-Z and I went and hid, cos we were all hurt, but then my legs kinda decided they had enough and..." She points down and very, very lightly moves what's remaining of her right leg.
She flops back and then covers her face with her hands, "I gotta get more practice fighting, cos I got scared in that fight," she says, "But thanks to everyone here, I managed to get out alive."
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Post by Swerve on Jul 30, 2010 22:45:39 GMT -5
"No, you… you blinker-brained, over-polished– ngh!" Swerve tries to sit up – again – and throw an obscene gesture at Xaaron. All he really manages is lifting his head; his arm shackle doesn't give him much leeway and his broken arm still doesn't move well. Like I should've expected it to get better in a couple of minutes. Parts and plating grind and sparks burst along his upper arm where those live wires catch. "Them!" he snarls, turning his wildly flickering optics on Firebolt and the area around her, where he can make out smears of colour he assumes are the others. "I – I went down to blow off some steam! Away from all o' you! And that fume-suckin' wingnut called me a coward!" He picks the biggest smear to glare at since Breakaway is the biggest in the room. "A coward 'cause I didn't wanna race slaggin' kids!"
Anyone near enough to Swerve might just feel the heat beginning to radiate from him, unchecked by his extensive cooling systems, as he rants and tries in vain to turn so he can properly aim his accusations at the offending bots.
"So he – gnh – wanted a race? They wanted a race?! Fine!" he roars. "I slaggin' raced! And I raced 'em my way!" The oil-sport way! Finally, Swerve gets himself propped up at a slant on that broken arm. His shoulder crackles and more sparks shower the floor; his visual cluster shorts out again. The heat's rising too fast, but he keeps pushing. "The girl got too blasted big for her hubcaps and took a spill, so I took off," he continues, voice turning raspy. He winces and chokes back static. "Down the road, there… were Decepticons. Fair smeltin' game! But the cloud jockey kept gettin' in my slaggin' way – guess he wanted to get shot! So I slaggin' did it! Fraggin' worthless – gnngh – jet-powered scrap tin kite!"
Swerve collapses back to the berth with a violent shudder. He can't get enough cool air moving.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 30, 2010 23:12:32 GMT -5
Long Haul narrows his optic band as Swerve damn near works himself into unconscious. He leans off his berth far enough to grab a rolling tool cart, then pushes himself up on it before using his good leg to push himself across the room.
"Slaggin' calm down 'fore you blow something, y'idiot! Or you just trying to top a whole afternoon of stupid with an extra layer of moron?" he snaps as he rolls across the floor, then comes to a clumsy, jerking stop as the cart slams into Swerve's medical berth. He is nearly knocked from his perch, but recovers and reaches towards Swerve, intent on cutting motor controls if that's what it takes.
However, this changes when he actually makes contact with the racer and he snatches his hands ago. "... The slag?!" he exclaims, shocked. Then he reaches down and more tentatively touches Swerve before snatching his fingers away again and shaking them to cool them off. "What the smelt is going on here?!" he demands, more baffled than angry, but a hint of frustrated still there. He looks up at Emirate Xaaron. "He's runnin' dangerous hot. Like, his cooling system's wrecked, I know, but he just smeltin' woke up! He shouldn't be anywhere near like this!"
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Post by Breakaway on Jul 31, 2010 9:12:23 GMT -5
"Hey!" Breakaway interjects, "I didn't shoot the road out, that was Skid-Z. All things considered it probably wasn't a bad plan, since we weren't really making a dent in the 'Cons shooting them directly. I was the one who crashed into the road after Wreckage blew up my turbine."
He'd love to get into a shouting match with Swerve, but now isn't the time. He only responds to one thing Swerve says. "Getting in your way? I was helping you, glitch-head! Do you honestly think you would have lasted five minutes if it had just been you and Bonecrusher?! You treat combat like some sort of honor duel and you're gonna get your head torn off!"
A quiet "Yes, sir," is the jet's only response to Xaaron. How was he supposed to know Swerve was . . . Swerve?
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 31, 2010 10:58:49 GMT -5
"Getting things done is generally more important than the way they are done," Emirate Xaaron observes mildly to Firebolt. The ends justify the means. "But sometimes the way matters, too." Something he dearly needs to remember. "We'll have more training sessions, both on how to make a report and how to keep a cool head under fire, he?"
He stands unimpressed by Swerve's gestures and listens impassively, a frown etching itself deeply into his features. At Long Haul's announcement that Swerve's cooling systems has gone haywire, he moves over to the medicomm and pages for a medic, adding a few notes into the casefiles of all the injured present that outline what he has in mind.
Then, Emirate Xaaron moves over to Swerve and undoes his shackles. If Swerve attacks him, Emirate Xaaron will just deal with it. He announces, voice icy as nitrogen in an Oort Cloud, "They covered for you. They all covered for you. You don't deserve friends like these, but more than you'll ever know or understand, you need them, and you have Primus's own luck that you have them at all."
"Swerve. You will be repaired first, hot or not, but only up to medic capacity - no racing; no fighting for you. Then, you, personally will repair each and everyone else involved in this mess up to better than nominal status. When you're done, I want to be able to see my reflection in their plating. You will have no assistance, unless you really are incapable of effecting complete repairs. You will not drag your heels and dawdle; you will not rush through a slap-dash effort. You are an Autobot, Swerve, and you have done wrong. Your responsibility is to right your wrongs. Only once everyone else has been completely repaired will you be allowed to repair your combat and racing systems. No ifs, ands or, buts. No arguments. Do it."
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Firebolt
Major
Brutal Gladiator, Scarab Lord Firebolt of the Shattered Sun
Moving Violation
Posts: 575
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Post by Firebolt on Jul 31, 2010 12:07:36 GMT -5
"Shooting it, crashing into it, in the middle of battle, it all looked the same, Mr. Fancy Pants Flier," she huffs a bit, then looks back over at Breakaway, "M'sorry, I shouldn't be mad at you." She sits back and then listens as the others talk, Swerve yells instead of talking. Her ponytails pin back against her head as she's called out for something she feels she had no control over, so she looks embarrassed.
She looks to Xaaron and then nods, her expression going into one of a bit of determination, "Ok, sir. I'll do my best," she says, and then looks up at him, "And... Uh! I was thinking. Are we in trouble for getting into this battle?" She asks this with a hint of nervousness in her voice. But a part of her is already understanding that if they are, there will be punishment, and will do her best to deal with it. That part is slightly evident in her expression.
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