Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Feb 22, 2009 14:13:01 GMT -5
Day 6 of small plots, large Gillanan city
The factory hasn't seen a living soul for a while, but it's about to have customers breaking through the dustballs. Happy day, or is it?
Y'know how silver is the most seen carcolor on the road? Hence exactly why Skid-Z hates having it on him now! It's (in his p.o.v.) dull, plain and overdone. So.... basic... and he's not a deliberate fashionfreak.
"Transform!" The ensuing whirling and clicking of transformation cogs and all parts aerodynamic goes in perfect flipchanger style, and therefore fast. A click later and the padlock locking the factory gates falls to the ground, smoke drafting from the Autobot's lasergun.
First floor: paints, decals, airbrush and refineries. "Before we go in: I'm not wearing pink" Skid-Z states to no-one in particular. //Anyone at base in need of store supplies?//
--------------------- Need paint or anything else to be brought back? Feel free to go along (or radio the guy a list).
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Post by Makeshift on Feb 23, 2009 19:17:31 GMT -5
Blue seems to be a pretty common air color, but Makeshift doesn't mind it much. As long as he doesn't get sucked into an intake or something, anyway.
"Metallic magenta, then?" the Mini-con quips, transforming and landing next to Skid-Z. He takes a bundle of rope off of his tow hook, slinging it over his shoulder. His intention is to find a basket or something to carry more supplies back. If all else fails, he can always just tie it all together in a bundle.
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Feb 25, 2009 15:18:29 GMT -5
And if that don't work, Skid-Z can ship some supplies in his cockpit too. He smiles and nods at Makeshift, "If that's their stock, yes please".
Entering the building, the scout decides to ask something which might be very usefull; "Makeshift, is there anything you are needing we have to keep watch for? Perhaps at a different hold in this area." Of course, they'd have to check with one of the other recon units if that's the case. But certainly, do ask.
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Post by Makeshift on Feb 25, 2009 19:41:47 GMT -5
"We'll see what we can find, then." Not that Makeshift is really a color fanatic. If one were to look closely in good lighting, his blues don't perfectly match; between the retreat from the base invasion and dings and scrapes from the crater battle, he's made do with dregs from similar shades and let it go at that. He doesn't take a lot of paint to cover, so he hasn't bothered asking for his own specific shade yet. It keeps the rust off, anyway.
"Can't think of anything, but I'll let you know. Unless you find a set of hands in my size," the Mini-con adds, clacking the three thick fingers of one hand together. He switches on a searchlight built into the underside of his chest cockpit. "Where do we start?"
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Feb 27, 2009 17:42:23 GMT -5
Mixmatched color, or no color at all? If Skid-Z does not find the right hue, he will gladly settle for any color they may find, Makeshift can be right sure of that. Perhaps he'd even let the Minicon pick for good morale!
"New hands, we could look for basic resources for the technicians to remodel... and, good idea..." Instantly his optics burst with light, illuminating his viewpoint. Optical vision darts around the room but there is no sign of where is where. They'd have to find out, hence why the first large garage door in sight is tried by the eager racer.
"Darn, it's jammed...." Skid-Z mutters as the door is hydraulically lifted a few inches. He sinks to his knees to peer inside and listen, before getting up, "Possible power failure, might be something to force this open....?"
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Post by Makeshift on Mar 2, 2009 16:31:34 GMT -5
So Skid-Z WILL wear pink?
Makeshift shines his light around, looking for anything recognizable. His light settles on a smaller, local-scaled door. "I'll take a look inside. Seems like I end up doing that a lot."
The Mini-con walks over to the door, fumbling with the handle for a moment; with a sharp snap, the lock breaks. "Oops." Undaunted, he pushes the door open and steps in.
There's the sound of a crash, a few things toppling over, and a string of high-pitched binary swearing. The searchlight's beam plays crazily around under the partially-open door for a moment. Then there's the sound of clinking chains, and the garage door slowly opens on squealing, rusty gears. On the other side stands Makeshift, with a metal bucket half covering his head, knee-deep in a crushed wooden box that apparently once held some kind of clothing, reduced to rags by scavenging rodents. He pulls the door's chain off of his fingers.
"Not a word," he warns.
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Mar 4, 2009 16:38:31 GMT -5
"What's happening?!" The racer kneels swiftly, hand going for his gun in alarm. The door scrolls open, he's ready to valiantly save Makeshift from......
Wait... Cloth?
Skid-Z quickly stifles the laugh coming up as the minicon 'threatens' him, rubbing the side of his helmet instead. "er... well done Makeshift!" Bot steps inside, tilts his head and inquires, "Are you uninjured?"
Headlight lookshine darts across the -color mixing- hall, and Skid-Z's grin widens at the few cans resting on a rack. Their names go strange to him, but some have leaked a trail of paint down their sides. He squints back at Makeshift as the color's been mixed from red and white.... However! Casting light through an open corridor promises a storage room. He can't see what's in it besides the outlines of filled racks.
Attentionworthy, at least.
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Post by Makeshift on Mar 11, 2009 11:54:48 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry for the delay, my brain's been dead the last week or so.
"Just being small doesn't mean I'm made of tin foil," the Mini-con shrugs, taking the bucket off of his head. He kicks his way out of the pile of cloth and shattered box, shining his light around the hall.
Racks of cans, more boxes stacked against walls, dust....huh, maybe the cleaning droids are offline here. At least there won't be more alien slapstick playing in the sky this time.
Makeshift's light finally makes its way to the open door, and he steps towards it, raising a gun-hand warily. "Shall we?"
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Mar 22, 2009 11:06:50 GMT -5
"You don't look it, er, the tin foil part, that is" Truth, Makeshift looks pretty resilient. But if he hadn't asked he might've been called on for being anti-social. And Skid-Z is a very social creature!
Back connects to the doorway, lights slowly lighting the room inside. The racks make it hard to see far into the place so the bot has no choice but to step further inside. Color coded cans spring to life under his view, and shadows shy away as the bot ghosts through the first path. The wide crossing reveals even more machines, automated, with the storage racks continuing happily behind them. A maze lest it wasn't ordered like this. "//I think this place is clear//" Skid-Z whispers over shortpowered radio, whether Makeshift is right behind him or not. Open area, stop talking.
Approaching one of the devices, Skid-Z traces the hydraulic systems of it, wondering, "//we could try and dismantle this for sys...//".
His voice is trailing, and not without a reason. Searchlights are set upon a dark trail originating from one of the paths. A closer look has him concluding that it's just paint. "//What's wrong with this picture?//"
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Post by Makeshift on Mar 23, 2009 5:44:06 GMT -5
Makeshift has to wonder if talking quietly serves any real stealth purpose when their lights give them away anyway, but eh, whatever works.
//Seems like it,// he replies. //Looks like even the automated drones are offline.//
Following just far enough to be able to move forward to help without being so close as to get stepped on if Skid-Z has to back up in a hurry, Makeshift follows the racer's light to the dark trail. His own light follows it along the floor, around the corner of another mixing machine.
//All signs we've encountered so far show the planet being evacuated in a hurry. Maybe somebody knocked a can over on the way out?// Still, if Skid-Z listens in the quiet room, he can hear the soft clicks as Makeshift's railgun fingers load. //Or maybe we're not the first ones to find this place.....//
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Mar 24, 2009 19:04:18 GMT -5
Lights give presence, but voices give identity. Besides, any other sounds might be drowned out if they filled the room talking.
Skid-Z slides a finger through the trail, paint dripping from the digit, "//if the planet got evacuated certainly months ago, this should've been dry already....//" He shines through the particular path, but it's empty save for a few cans.
Right. The racer turns to scan the aisles once more, and instantly freezes in position, "//... not everything's offline//" With that, he shifts his weight to the front of his feet, tensing. Wheels shift from calfs to heels, ready to slam into action when needed. Makeshift can hear a gun getting clicked from safety settings pretty easily.
Standing amongst the shadows are three beings Skid-Z can identify as wildlife; they could be strays, they could've been watchdogs. Bloodshot eyes, beaks dripping with foam; the scout is barely able to place them between aviary and reptilian1. But without falling in Earthen prehistoric ages, clearly.
"//We got hostiles!//" Makeshift is warned because the moment one of the beasts charges the bigger Autobot with a schreeching hiss, how else can you interpret that as a threat? Skid-Z responds soundly by shoving his gun horizontally into the open beak and slamming both of them backwards. Now on top, Skid-Z feels two gusts of wind pass him from the remaining raptors2. Cans roll across the ground as they're bumped in a quick dash. One bright flash and a leg of one of them(2) is blown off. Still, while his pack falls to the ground stalled, the remaining beast(3) charges straight for Makeshift. Who, given his size, would be a one-bite meal here since the birds are chestheight to the racer.
1. 4 legged, 4 clawed . Color hueing from bright green to red in light. Omnivores, solo attackers, yet congegrate in groups. Very sharp and strong beak & claws.
2. Raptors as in, birds of prey.
Just gonna get some supplies?
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Post by Makeshift on Mar 27, 2009 17:23:36 GMT -5
Sometimes, conversing silently is the best bet. Other times, nothing's quite as satisfactory as a string of binary curses loud enough to give an organic a migraine.
Dropping his bundle of ropes to the floor, Makeshift dives aside, firing his boosters and narrowly avoiding the raptor's claws. He crashes through a rack of cans, sending sprays of assorted colors all at the creature, and fires a blind shot in its general direction as he tries to get his bearings.
//Y'know, just once, I'd like to get something done without something trying to kill me!//
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Apr 5, 2009 7:55:56 GMT -5
"Just hang in there!" Is the only reply as Skid-Z tries to subdue his own assailant. While continueing to press down, he sees no other option but to begin spinning his wheels against the organic tissue in painfull friction.
In the mean time paint rains down on Raptor # 3 from Makeshift's gunshots, who's momentarily stunned as paint leaks into his eyes. At the same time, #2, now minus one leg, begins to get back up.
Skid-Z pushes himself away, hoping to have applied enough hurt to have the creature flee.
-------- Out of the loop for a few days.
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Post by Makeshift on Apr 6, 2009 17:38:31 GMT -5
Okay, so the paint diversion worked. Because it was totally planned. Yeah.
Makeshift springs sideways around the rack, reaching back and drawing his tow hook out from his tail boom. He hooks it on the bottom of the rack and keeps going, letting the line play out for a few yards. Then....
//Watch your head!// The Mini-con transforms, firing his boosters and locking his winch, hauling up on the rack. There's a groan of stressed metal as Makeshift's hook fights with the bolts holding the rack down, and then a clatter as full, heavy cans rain down at 2 and 3. He's hoping to knock them silly long enough for a getaway or spook them enough to scare them off, but since when is anything ever that easy?
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Skid-Z
Minor
'Not obsessed; possessed! There is a difference, you know.'
Posts: 411
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Post by Skid-Z on Apr 11, 2009 11:59:58 GMT -5
To much his relief Skid-Z won't have to do much more to the now-released creature: with a series of frantic clicks it bolts down the room, disappearing in the direction the Autobots entered themselves. The racer can pretty much safely state that it's rushing out the gates right now.
Behind him Skid-Z hears the cans hit ground and flesh, and a coldness splatters his back. Shifting around quickly, he's just in time to see 2 bolt away, while 3 for a moment freezes, then keels over amidst the cans that hit its cranium.
"You alright?" he asks, looking up at Makeshift.
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