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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Mar 10, 2011 19:45:46 GMT -5
Impactor had remained quiet through most of the talk. There are a number of people here that he's only familiar with through their records, after all, and watching them respond to the news and interact with each other gives him the opportunity to gain their measure. He looks to each person as they talk, always putting his full focus on them. His expression grows neither more nor less suspicious as he moves his attention from subject to subject, but his optics remain narrowed in a manner that suggests a general level of mild distrust for each stranger.
Emirate Xaaron is not a stranger, so he is an exception. When Impactor's attention is focused on him, his expression grows more distrustful.
His frown increases, however, and turns slightly thoughtful at the latest news and at Farlane's question.
"Aging must be pretty damned extreme for that to be anything worth mentioning, never mind making plans to pull him off the battlefield."
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Post by Drift on Mar 13, 2011 15:16:22 GMT -5
Going to need a medic with a lot of welding experience if you keep looking at Drift like that, Farlane. And, yeah, the kick? If Drift had a buddy club? You would not be in it. Drift's going to return the gesture, as he jumps to his feet. Efficiency? Drift haz it.
"Glad you could hear me clearly, you fraggin' overgrown cyberroach." His insults still need work, but that's for you, Jetfire. "Who cares about you stupid Autobot trinkets? It's all slag to scare newsparks, all this woo-woo slag about the 'matrix' and all this mystical trash."
Drift slams a hand onto the surface in front of him.
"Primes. Reviving the dead. You all sound like Jhiaxus. Or Nova. And he's no god. And he's not undefeatable, either. No one is."
He turns to Xaaron. "It's like the Magnificence. Or any of Jhiaxus's experiments. It calls for scientists. Not warriors. Save the metaphysical concerns for them. Wrong audience here. I just need to know who and how to kill. Until you've got that information for me, you're wasting my slaggin' time."
He looks around to see who's with him. Of course they will be. He's only speaking sense; what everyone else is just too chicken to say aloud.
(ooc: yeah we're assuming that as a SiC, he'd have SOME basic knowledge, fuzzy, of the whole Jhaixus/Nemesis/Dead Universe stuff. Oh, and feel free to smite him for his Uppity, any of you).
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 13, 2011 20:09:45 GMT -5
Breakaway's optics light up with mischief. "So, Rodimus Prime won't be doing any combat duty once he gets old and decrepit? Does that mean he won't be investigating Devourist temples after dark, sir?" he asks innocently.
"No one said Unicron was undefeatable, Sparky. If you're paying attention, we have a weapon to defeat him, it's in Rodimus Prime's chest, it isn't working right now, and the eggheads are trying to fix it," the jetformer snaps back at Drift.
Are all carbots angry all the time, or just the ones Breakaway knows? This guy sounds like a 'Con. 'Never mind why we're fighting, just give me a target to vent my crippling psychotic pathology on.'
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Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Mar 16, 2011 19:03:08 GMT -5
Aww, hey, Farlane is a car-bot! He would totally have pouted mightily at the implication of being angry all the time, Breakaway. Pouted!
As it is, he’s being a little weirded out by Mr. Crankypants next to him. Partially because he’d been kicked back, but okay, that was expected. Playing footsie was a bit of a mutual act anyways. Oh jeeze, the guy’s hearing and comprehension centers were seriously out of sync or something though, because he really seemed to like running on assumptions.
And oh, great, he was a another neutral too. So embarrassing. Farlane sinks a bit further into his chair. “Yeeeaaah, that stupid woo-woo trinket kinda busted up a planet-eater in my universe. I’d say that’s a bit o’ conclusive evidence ‘bout whether these kinds a’ things work or not, ya exhaust suckin’ fragstick.” Even the most merciless Decepticon the pink car had known was nowhere near as annoying as this guy.
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Post by Drift on Mar 16, 2011 19:19:38 GMT -5
There is obviously something wrong with these Autobots. Well, not really. His Autobots hadn't exactly laid out the red carpet of welcome for him either. But at least his Autobots were a little grateful for his abilities.
"All right, let me know where I'm...confused. I could have sworn you said we had a weapon to kill this Unicron, which is the Matrix. But it can't really kill him because it's just containing him.
"And this weapon only ONE special chosen mech can handle." Because that's always how these mystical trinkets worked.
"And it's on the fritz.
"Still not getting what we're supposed to do about it. Other than smother ourselves in dipping sauce so he eats us first. In yet another of your idiotic Autobot self-sacrifice things."
...Wing self-sacrifice thing. Wing's face, eager, open, volunteering for certain death. No hesitation. Almost...proud.
Drift faltered, one hand clutching behind him for the Great Sword's sheath.
"I...uh....count me in."
He slumped back in his seat.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Mar 16, 2011 20:29:59 GMT -5
OOC: Posting back into rotation, but going immediately skippable.
Impactor listens carefully to Drift's outbursts, saying nothing, though his optics remain narrowed. The glare gets harder as Drift talks about 'your idiotic Autobot self-sacrifice things,' then relaxes somewhat at says to be counted in. There might even be the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
Naw. Just a trick of the shadows.
"For the moment, we're just supposed to listen and be aware of it. Sometimes, even the brass doesn't have the answers right away." He glares up at Emirate Xaaron. "More often than they're going to admit, even." Then he looks back at Drift. "We know what's going on, we can help keep an eye out for other solutions. Even if they did take their time getting around to telling us." And now, another glare is sent Xaaron's direction.
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Post by Jasper Stoneham on Mar 16, 2011 20:40:39 GMT -5
Being removed from active duty just for being old and decrepit? This is Jetfire being all perplexed and vaguely horrified by the very concept. By that reasoning, he should be locked to an office desk right now. An office desk where he could finish wasting away into a pile of spare parts and rust.
Spending his last days rusting away in a human museum notwithstanding, Jetfire refuses to go down so helplessly. He'll extinguish the way he was always meant to: in a blaze of GLORY!
The whippersnapper is getting uppity again, though, which yanks Jetfire out of his musing with an almost audible snap.
"Now just you see here, you bloody little punk," he snarls, reaching out to try and smack Drift in the back of the head with his cane, "Matrix is 'on the fritz' now. What we do is support the Prime!"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 16, 2011 21:05:30 GMT -5
Farlane asks how would gettin' older quickly cause any problems. Impactor chimes in that is must be rather extreme.
Drift is... Drift, but Emirate Xaaron files away the mention of the Magnificence. That bears futher examination.
However, Breakaway explains the problem in a succinct manner that Emirate Xaaron feels any soldier should be able to appreciate. Weapon is broken. They're working on fixing the weapon. That is why they're not using the weapon right this moment. Maybe Emirate Xaaron should give Breakaway more responsibility; put him in charge of the Autobot Elite Flying Corps. However, Breakaway also touches on the age issue.
Emirate Xaaron explains, a bit subdued, "Not old like Kup or Jetfire or I are. Not old in a way any of us can easily understand. Old like some sorts of xeno organics, where their components fail faster than they can replaced, where they must remained tethered to life support or die."
Old like the last of the Overlords, on his Cybertron. It's curious. A wise and charismatic Overlord could unite Cybertron like no other, but their lives were ever so brief, compared to the rest of their species.
He looks up and tries to catch Jetfire with a gaze that may as well be bladed, saying sharply, "Jetfire, leave Drift be. I do not ask that he believe. I do not ask that any of you believe. I am simply, as Breakaway put it, explaining that our counter-planet-killer weapon is broken at the moment, and we're working on fixing it. Unless anyone else has any further questions...?"
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 22, 2011 22:08:40 GMT -5
"Yes, a weapon only one chosen mech can handle. If you've never had to protect a VIP before, you haven't been soldiering very long, pretty boy," Breakaway says, rising from his seat, his VTOL fan starting to spin up. "What do you mean your Autobot self-sacrfice thing? What, did they hold you down and tampograph your symbol on against your will? You-" The jetformer seems entirely content to continue laying into the cranky new guy this way, until Drift says they can count him in. Breakaway fiddles with his canopy in his own version of embarrassed fidgeting. "Oh, okay then." He makes a brief throat clearing sound and sits back down, trying not to look at the carbot.
Breakaway just stares at Emirate Xaaron when he says Rodimus is going to start falling apart like an organic. Does not compute!
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Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Mar 23, 2011 17:26:43 GMT -5
Huh, figures a little peer pressure would calm the guy down a bit, but he hadn’t expected to be to be so instantaneous. Farlane arches a brow but doesn’t otherwise comment on it, and the unhappy frown is right where it’d been at the beginning of it all.
He does know what kind of old Xaaron’s talking about now though and feels distinctly uncomfortable. Cybertronians mostly only died in accidents or in battle, and for the longest of times Farlane had only known that. Coming to have organic spacer friends tended to change one’s perspective a bit, especially now that one of his own race was going through what the organics had considered natural and inevitable.
A stiff drink would be really nice right about now, actually. “Nothin’ from me,” he answers Xaaron with a slight shrug.
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 17:44:38 GMT -5
Well, here's some friendly Autobot 'dogpiling on the new guy,' Drift thinks.
"Bodyguarding isn't real soldiering, Autobot," he sneers. "Haven't done your prissy babysitting, but probably know more than you do about combat.
"Especially 'con combat." Take that. His ruffled pride is making him pretty reckless with the truth.
He's about to nod at Impactor who was at least civil when he gets whacked in the back of his head by the space-roach's cane.
Stupid, Drift. Letting your guard down.
He snarls, spinning in one fluid move out of his seat, drawing both of his swords. "I don't follow one mech, 'Prime' or not," he snarls. The blades are ready to attack. Fell for that before, with Megatron. Another mistake he's determined not to repeat.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Mar 23, 2011 20:12:56 GMT -5
Impactor snorts. "'Bodyguarding isn't real soldering,' huh?" he asks, amused.
"There's a difference between being a warrior and a soldier. How much combat you've seen doesn't have a bearing on how much you know about soldiering if you've fought it as a warrior, and you 'read' like a warrior."
Then he turns to look up at Drift. He'll look him right in the eye if the chance is there, though Drift's attention seems more focused on Jetfire now.
"Or is it just you understand fighting against something more than fighting for something, and that's why you don't get why bodyguarding can be 'real soldiering'?" Neither Impactor's tone nor his expression are condemning. There's nothing in him that implies that Drift would be in the 'wrong' to be a warrior, or in the 'wrong' to understand fighting against more than fighting for. He just appears interested, nothing more.
OOC: Skippable.
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Post by Jasper Stoneham on Mar 25, 2011 14:49:39 GMT -5
Not believe? Not believe? Jetfire swings his gaze away from those blades suddenly leveled at him - rather quickly at that. Good reflexes on this lad, even if he's as sharp as a thick plank - to glance up at Xaaron. He snorts, curbing his impulse to hock a big, gooey blob of gunk at the floor to express his displeasure.
"Bah. As you will," he grumbles as he settles back in his seat.
He shoots an irritated look back to Drift, though, and adds, "Best get used to it, though, lad. Xaaron's in charge here, so you follow one bot here."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 25, 2011 22:12:06 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron was afraid he was going to have to try to go break it up between Breakaway and Drift, but Breakaway catches himself, yet more signs of prudence. Hmm.
Drift, meanwhile... oh Primus, is he ex-con? Emirate Xaaron squints for a moment. He didn't have long to glance over Drift's dossier. He'll have to consult it more thoroughly when times are less pressing.
Impactor seems more interesting in the definition of soldier than the topic at hand.
Does he have to break up Jetfire and Drift, too? Argh. Wait, Jetfire is back in his seat.
Emirate Xaaron offers, loudly, to the crowd, "I stand for an idea. Any number of ideas, but if I should fall, the idea would live on, in Rodimus Prime, or Kup, or Rattrap, or Botanica – or perhaps even in one of you. For the time being, however, yes, I am Autobot Commander, and I have no particular intention of needing to fall back upon such a contingency. So there's nothing else on the topic at hand? You are all dismissed, then. Good cycle, and thank you for your time."
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Post by Breakaway on Mar 26, 2011 15:20:18 GMT -5
Just because Breakaway is prudent enough not to beat up the new guy in front of Emirate Xaaron doesn't mean he's prudent enough to be an officer. Really!
The jetformer sinks into his chair, arms crossed, and mutters, "I'll take you on anytime, anywhere, Head Chevron," quietly to himself. As far as he's concerned, Drift is a poor man's Sideswipe, and he can fly rings around Sideswipe any day.
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