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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 17, 2007 21:16:24 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron supposes that he should do something more useful than merely stand around and glint under the sun. Showing up to make an appearance means little if the only appearance he gives is that he does nothing. The ranged and melee threads are out of the running for now, as he is abysmal at both. He cannot transform, so the alternate mode and quickswitch threads are also off the list. There is but one thing for Emirate Xaaron: the robot mode obstacle course.
He's used to picking his way through battlefields and clotted sewers. This course shouldn't be a terribly embarrassment. He's slow enough that he forced to be careful by nature. If there's a pit trap, someone else will find it first. Emirate Xaaron lopes over to the starting line and pauses to stretch.
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Rattrap
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Post by Rattrap on Dec 21, 2007 8:28:11 GMT -5
For somebody enacting a strategic retreat to an area less likely to make him immediately involved in what could be a nasty little scrap – probably would have if he'd stuck around, what with his luck, but now that he's left it'll defuse itself, just watch – Rattrap does a pretty fine job of looking casual about it. Which is, of course, the point. He isn't exactly eager to go running around like a nimrod, but it's better than getting dragged into any fight involving that Grimlock.
The course gets a critical once-over as he ambles along, and he determines one thing for sure: somebody will have a good old time of him trying to navigate this oversized nightmare, and it isn't gonna be him.
"Hey," delivered with a gesture that vaguely resembles the lazy offspring of a wave and a salute is Rattrap's greeting to Emirate Xaaron on his approach. "Lookin' to get a bit of exercise in, Emirate?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 22, 2007 0:11:34 GMT -5
Minding not the casual nature of the rat, Emirate Xaaron pauses in his stretching to look over at Rattrap and says levelly, "I am not sure if 'exercise' is the word." His tone turns slightly amused, "But it will do, if you wish."
He has not interacted with Rattrap much. From what he hears, Rattrap is a spy, a civilian explorer forced into the role by odd circumstances. Rattrap seems to be coping rather better than most, just from the scant observations Emirate Xaaron has been able to make. He straightens out and gestures to the course, inquiring, "Would you wish to wait for others, or shall we test it?"
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on Dec 22, 2007 0:55:53 GMT -5
So perhaps sticking around to observe melee is not the safest of ideas. Synapse picks his way carefully past that area and treads over after Emirate Xaaron and Rattrap, not wanting to look idle any longer. Because idle means doing nothing, and doing nothing makes one useless. At least when applied to himself in his own mind.
Obstacle course? That brings a curious tilt to Synapse's head. This is a bit of a physical challenge that the scout does not mind. It's been a while since he's had to work on maneuvering through tight or tricky spaces, getting back into that tempo shouldn't be terribly hard. It's keeping everything smooth and quiet that will be the tricky part. Sneaky scouts must be sneaky!
"May I as well?" murmurs Synapse as he draws up to the line and gives the two there a polite greeting in the form of a half-nod, half-bow.
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Rattrap
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Post by Rattrap on Dec 22, 2007 21:58:45 GMT -5
As far as Rattrap is concerned, he'll call it exercise. That just makes it sound better.
"Yeah, it'll do," he answers Emirate Xaaron with a lopsided smirk of a grin. The gold and silver Autobot seems like a pretty sharp character. A hair or two on the hard to read side, even for Rattrap, who has the sneaking suspicion Xaaron might just prefer it that way. The spy doesn't really blame him, either.
And the follow-up question?
"Bit moot now, innit?" muses Rattrap on Synapse's arrival, then turns his grin on the flighty scout. Looking less nervous and shy now than Rattrap's used to seeing him; maybe he just sucks at social contact? "Heh! I ain't gonna argue. The more the merrier, or somethin' like that." A beat while he makes a show of loosening up a little. "Though you two're prob'ly gonna leave me behind real quick," he adds in a thickly self-deprecating tone. And Rattrap maintains his frequently-occupied position of least formal speaker in the group. He likes it here; it's cozy.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 23, 2007 9:41:23 GMT -5
Of course Emirate Xaaron prefers being hard to read. It would make pulling off surprises a lot harder if he wasn't.
He looks quite genuinely happy to see Synapse, though. The flier has been polite and very useful, showing good initiative and getting results, for as long as Emirate Xaaron has known him. He greets, "Synapse! Ah, of course you may. How have you been doing?"
Emirate Xaaron glances at the course, the first obstacle being a wide set of monkey bars. Rattrap can probably climb up one of the support poles and then carefully walk across one of the horizontal support bars. However, he doubts that clambering up a metal pole would be terribly amusing for Rattrap. More likely, that is an activity that Rattrap prefers to observes, perhaps in dimmer lighting, with a supply of small credit pieces.
So Emirate Xaaron crouches, holds out his hand flat for Rattrap, and offers, "Would you like a boost up the first obstacle?"
Depending on the vantage point one takes, this is either under-handed and nearly cheating or it is a beautiful display of classic Autobot/Maximal teamwork. Considering who, exactly, is involved...
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on Dec 25, 2007 13:14:51 GMT -5
Less nervous and shy? Well, Synapse has known Emirate Xaaron since his arrival here and Rattrap has been quite agreeable. Plop in someone less familiar and understanding, then Synapse would be back to square one. Emirate Xaaron and Rattrap get an abashed smile for being so accommodating.
"I have been well, thank you sir."
Synapse settles back, waiting patiently for Rattrap to get his boost, or refuse. The bars should be easy enough for the scout to reach with a good jump. He takes this time to undo any kinks or stiffness in his frame and servos.
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Rattrap
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Post by Rattrap on Dec 26, 2007 16:53:29 GMT -5
One of the best points about cheating is it's a hard thing to get called on when there's nothing in the rules explicitly against your methods; Rattrap has weaselled his way out of formal reprimand more than once with a simple and succinct "there ain't anything sayin' I couldn't". And wasn't there something about this training fostering cooperation anyway? Well, then, who is Rattrap to refuse a bit of an offered lift?
"Sure," he says and hops on up. Hey, if Xaaron's willing and it means a little less pointless effort on Rattrap's part. No-one needs to see the spy shimmying up any poles around here. His legs aren't that nice.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 26, 2007 19:10:53 GMT -5
"Very good to hear, Synapse," Emirate Xaaron replies, evidently in a fairly good mood.
Since Rattrap doesn't appear to have any misconstrued sense of honour that prevents him from taking the boost, he picks up the rat, climbs up the bars to the horizontal level, and reaches out to set down Rattrap on the top bar. The ladder, such as it is, is quite wide enough for several Autobots to climb at once and the monkey bars themselves look built strongly enough to support several.
Emirate Xaaron isn't particularly hurrying, not yet. Once Synapse gets into the swing of things, then Emirate Xaaron will commence Operation: Run Likes Blazes.
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on Dec 27, 2007 19:23:46 GMT -5
Up he goes. Synapse grasps onto the first bar upon reaching the top. There's a moment as he gauges the distance he'll have to cross and the space between the bars. Calculations over, Synapse hops off of the ladder and begins swinging himself across. The scout tends to be one of those bots that follows normal rules around others, even when said rules aren't there.
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Rattrap
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Post by Rattrap on Dec 28, 2007 13:18:34 GMT -5
Alright, so crossing these monkey bars – where's Optimus when you wanna make a bad primate joke at his expense? – doesn't look quite as labour-intensive for Rattrap as it does for his new Autobot buddies. A walk in the park, really… five or six meters off the ground. Nothing he can't handle. He at least has the decency to start crossing at something of a jog; it's supposed to look like physical training, after all, and unless Rattrap is mistaken (he doubts he is), not much about a leisurely stroll looks particularly physical.
Say, focusing between the bar ahead of him and Synapse – also ahead of him and steadily gaining distance – means he doesn't have to look down or be obvious about it! Sometimes he could just kiss somebody.
"You're not too bad at dis stuff, kid!" Rattrap calls after the scout, glancing back to the bar to make sure he isn't drifting too far to one side or the other. It may not seem like much of a fall to these tall mechanical folks around here, but Rattrap has always had a vested interest in keeping his little skidplate as intact as possible; this includes drops of more than three meters.
All he needs now is for this to turn into some kind of stupid fun house rotating floor malarkey. Yeah, that really ought to make his day.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Dec 29, 2007 15:12:54 GMT -5
Having dropped Rattrap off on top, where it will likely be more like a balance beam than monkey bars for him, the Emirate ascends up the ladder himself and places his hands on the first monkey bar speculatively. Yes, it seems like it will hold. He had to be sure. It would be like Kup to add in a trick of some sort, doubtless to teach a lesson.
Emirate Xaaron then rocks himself back and forward a bit, before pushing off the last rung of the ladder with his feet and reaching out an arm. He does make it to the next rung and even continues in the swing of things. He's perhaps a bit awkward, but he's definitely not as bad as people would likely expect him to be.
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on Dec 29, 2007 15:48:12 GMT -5
Rattrap's call elicits an embarrassed cough from the scout. "...You are too kind," he says, pausing to look back for a moment.
Synapse is almost mid-way through the monkey-bars when on his reach for the next bar, his fingers come short and the bar remains out of reach. This leaves the scout struggling to maintain his grip on the first bar. How? How did this happen, the bars should be evenly---or not. Synapse cranes his head to look back at the other bars and then forward again to look ahead. The space between the bars had been steadily growing, not enough to notice at first but definitely enough to throw him off now. So much for careful calculations, he'll have to rely on the visual data streaming into him. In other words: quick thinking.
"Take care! The distance between the bars is not a constant!" Synapse calls out as he swings back and forth, building up momentum before launching towards the next bar.
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Post by SceneMod on Dec 29, 2007 19:55:09 GMT -5
It is at this point that the communications tower near base is activated, causing images to form in the sky overhead. See the Two Towers thread for full details.
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Rattrap
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Post by Rattrap on Dec 29, 2007 20:26:27 GMT -5
Yeah, a balance beam. If Rattrap had wanted to get into gymnastics, he'd have signed on with the Six Lasers Rhythmic Plasma Ribbon Dance team, not the mining corps.
"Ehh… maybe I am," he mumbles mostly to himself, shrugging and continuing across the bar. He's just about even with Synapse when the not-so-divine display lights up the heavens. He stops – jumping in shock would be unprofessional and stupid from up here – and gives it a jaded look at first, masking his initial surprise. He expects random holograms at amusement parks and/or entertainment districts; this… isn't exactly entertaining and it definitely isn't amusing.
As the playback continues and the visuals pan out, vague disinterest gives way to brief confusion. Just what the heck's out in space these people want them to see? An attacking alien armada? Space pirates come to raid? Invading vixens from Valeidus V? It can't be the sun going nova, the blasted thing's right there… in the… sky. Behind a hologram of something even the Maximal history files left very open and exquisitely clear. And, frankly, something Rattrap had hoped was long annihilated like the files said. Unicron.
"…Aw, slag," mutters the spy, instinctively trying to step back and forgetting he's on a fairly narrow crossbar. He doesn't particularly care that his jaw wants to get intimately acquainted with said bar on his way over the side, really – the drop, now, that he minds, and he just knows he'll have a sore servo or two later for catching himself – but does it have to hurt so much?
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