Dreadwing
Cadet
Making "What hit me?" literal
Posts: 20
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Post by Dreadwing on Mar 11, 2011 1:08:26 GMT -5
The motion of Dreadwing’s scrubbing is adjusted slightly so that he kept to a constant rhythm, even when it’s not ideally efficient. It’s not so much a game to him as simply a way to enjoy the little things just that bit more. He wasn’t particularly good as construction or engineering or general civil duties, but he did want to help make a solid peaceful home rather than destroy and create chaos. Cleaning was about as useful as he could get without supervision. So unlike the majority of his brethren, many who didn’t know him would wonder why he wore the purple symbol.
And so he kept to the rhythm of his scrubbing even we he entered the conversation above his head, the scrubber broom wasn’t too loud anyway but he did dial up the volume of his a voice a fraction above his norm. “Da name’s Dreadwing, at yo service.”
Dreadwing wasn’t that new, he was just…stealthy.
He snorted at the predacon’s comment but said nothing of it. Predacons he mused, such an unusual evolution, he heard stories of cybernetic organics but not the other way around until a week ago.
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Mistwind
Major
Licensed flight addict, deepsea diving fan, mech-pilot rookie - Accepts food and play for services.
Posts: 531
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Post by Mistwind on Mar 13, 2011 4:58:50 GMT -5
Mistwind is quite happily working along, getting happier as he goes. "And it's part of our purpose to maintain the areas so it's in great mode for deployment of forces!" There is a slight snort at this. "Well... maybe here in this world we will win over the Autobots."
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Mar 13, 2011 20:34:42 GMT -5
"Ah," Fleetwind answers Tarantulas. "I understand." He pauses. "Even if I don't have any 'Primus given rights,'" he adds, smiling faintly.
He pauses in his work to look down at Dreadwing, faint smile still in place. "Not my service, certainly! But pleasant to meet you, all the same." He's not yet caused any discernible threat to Fleetwind's continued existence, a fact that the Seeker counts as 'pleasant.'
At Mistwind's optimism he continues his faint smile and returns to his cleaning. "Certainly, anything's possible. We don't... have the overwhelming advantage that we did where I came from," Fleetwind is from a point where the Decepticons ruled Cybertron, the Autobot forces pushed entirely off planet, and though he's pulled from the moments where it all comes crashing down, that fall is not really part of his mindset. "We're not at any significant disadvantage compared with them, but... I don't know. I think the victor may be whomever figures out how to control arrivals first."
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Post by Tarantulas on Mar 13, 2011 22:13:52 GMT -5
"I'm Tarantulas," the spider introduces himself, calling down from the ceiling. "Charmed, I'm sure," he adds sarcastically.
"Because you don't have a Primus, right?" he asks rhetorically as Fleetwind mentions his lack of rights. "Controlling arrivals is a thorny problem. We don't have the resources to really get creative the way we'd like. Plus, the last time someone poked at the fabric of reality too hard around here, they got inundated with mirror-universe alternates."
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Dreadwing
Cadet
Making "What hit me?" literal
Posts: 20
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Post by Dreadwing on Mar 14, 2011 4:19:15 GMT -5
Despite his lack of mental prowess, Dreadwing had already thought of one or two ways to fix the issue of Autobot arrivals, but if even he could think of them, that meant the higher ups had already thought of them much earlier and found them wanting, so he kept his trap shut for the moment.
“How do ya poke at reality?” If it was in the database, he certainly hadn’t read it, possibly wouldn’t be able to understand it.
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Mistwind
Major
Licensed flight addict, deepsea diving fan, mech-pilot rookie - Accepts food and play for services.
Posts: 531
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Post by Mistwind on Mar 15, 2011 3:21:34 GMT -5
"With a stick?" Mistwind calls, moving to another section off the wall to scrub. He's humming singsongs while working up a storm.
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Mar 15, 2011 19:49:44 GMT -5
"That warrants caution, certainly, but it's unlike you science types to actually give up on an idea," Fleetwind observes thoughtfully. Then he smiles faintly. "Probably for the best, however." After all, mad scientists generally aren't known for their common sense. "I didn't particularly want to go home, anyway."
He darts down towards a bucket of cleaning solution and moistens his rag. Not out and out wet, just moist enough to pick up the dust and dirt. He pauses to look at Dreadwing and his question, then at Mistwind's answer. He considers letting the answer stand for a moment, then decides to explain, "He's speaking metaphorically." Then he darts back to where he left off.
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Post by Tarantulas on Mar 15, 2011 21:09:36 GMT -5
"No-one's given up on the idea," Tarantulas protests. "Finding new ways to tear holes in space-time is a tricky and energy-intensive process, however. There are far more ways to create a massive explosion than there are to open a wormhole, let alone a portal into another dimension. Plus we have to spend time keeping our tech ahead of the Autobots." Except the 'Bots have Hook now, so there goes that goal for the moment. The spider wiggles his fangs and sighs. "We just don't have enough time or energon to pursue all the projects we'd like. We ought to just find a nice primitive planet and strip-mine it bare." Maybe it'd have little fuzzy creatures to devour, too.
"You don't want to go home?" he asks, turning to face Fleetwind. The Predacon is genuinely curious. Tarantulas doesn't want to go home because he was about to be murdered by horrible aliens, but he thought he was alone in his desire to stay in this universe.
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Dreadwing
Cadet
Making "What hit me?" literal
Posts: 20
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Post by Dreadwing on Mar 16, 2011 4:43:18 GMT -5
There’s a difference between slow and stupid. Though Dreadwing was both, he was mostly the former and only slightly the latter, enough division between the two for him to realise that Mistwind was only joking. He didn’t however bother to correct Fleetwind’s assumption, he’d long ago found it that there was an advantage to be had in being thought of as lacking in the processor department more so than fact. Easier too.
When discussion turned to the mater of home, he shunted even more of his precious attention to listening, possibly at the expense of his rhythm. He been here in this reality a week and his desires had changed slightly in that time.
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Mistwind
Major
Licensed flight addict, deepsea diving fan, mech-pilot rookie - Accepts food and play for services.
Posts: 531
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Post by Mistwind on Mar 17, 2011 21:37:25 GMT -5
Mistwind stops, yes, he -stops- his work altogether as the spider and pastel jet begin to talk about not wanting to go home. He looks up and listens, head turning slightly into a tilt.
He looks confused, hoping they'll explain.
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Mar 18, 2011 22:43:43 GMT -5
Fleetwind shrugs. "I was in the process of having a building knocked on me during Unicron's attack, and haven't heard any indication I'll be among the survivors," he explains. "If we're returned to the same time and place we came from, I'm just as doomed. If we aren't, it's my understanding that the war takes a considerable downturn after the attack."
He shakes his head. "One moment Unicron was knocking a building on me, the next, I'm waking up on the north pole of some strange planet right next to Omega Supreme. You know it's a bad day when Omega Supreme is a step up."
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Post by Tarantulas on Mar 19, 2011 11:19:40 GMT -5
"I was probably about to die, too," Tarantulas admits. "Even if I wasn't, I was trapped on a backwater world, surrounded by idiots, and hounded by mysterious all-powerful aliens. Being trapped here is an improvement," he says, lowering himself down from the ceiling by a thread, his task completed. He's still surrounded by idiots, and probably being hounded by aliens too, but at least the spaceship works!
The spider tugs on his line to detach it from the ceiling and spools it back up for later. It's metabolically expensive to produce, after all. Tarantulas won't eat it like a real spider, but he'll recycle the energon.
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Dreadwing
Cadet
Making "What hit me?" literal
Posts: 20
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Post by Dreadwing on Mar 19, 2011 23:30:25 GMT -5
“Seems like ya made it to da rocks just in time, anyone ever make it a moment too late, like after dey been shot but before going offline?” Dreadwing had been yanked during a defrag cycle, it was a hell of a wake up. And here he was now cleaning floors, sure it was no courier run, but he wasn’t being all big and scary and that was a good thing.
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Mistwind
Major
Licensed flight addict, deepsea diving fan, mech-pilot rookie - Accepts food and play for services.
Posts: 531
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Post by Mistwind on Mar 20, 2011 1:33:07 GMT -5
"You're afraid of death" the jetpack surmises from down below. The way he says it is not personal, not judgmental, not even emotional. "You prefer being here over where you belong because you fear the end of your functioning."
He smirks in a very evil fashion, as if cruel reality is something amusing, "You forget that in your home reality, your end has already been determined. Here... it is not."
With the wall done the child stands up, brushes a wrist past his cheek and inquires: "Doesn't that make you paranoid? The idea that instead of being instantly crushed, or being shot straight through your brain module, or getting killed during a recharge... you might end up withering away in acid, scooped up by a giant dragon, torn apart slowly, feel millions of infesting ants eat you alive starting at the feet... For all you know you might get reprogrammed by one of the many glitchin' Autobots who shun no means to destroy us."
His evil smirk fades into a childlike grin, "You prefer remaining within the dimension that has already violated the boundaries of our places in time and space. We can only be too sure that it can and most likely will do much, much worse. This one recognizes and respects your bravery, sirs"
Quite innocently, he finishes: "Unless I have accidentally enlightened you to your probable position within this reality?"
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Mar 20, 2011 16:49:54 GMT -5
The right corner of Fleetwind's lips pull up briefly in an amused smirk, and then his expression returns to its usual neutrally polite expression.
"As it turns out, you have not, because I actually am paranoid enough to have considered most of those options - not the brain module thing, because I don't have one, but the others. I can also guess that, as good as my imagination can be, there are no end to the number of potential horrible ends that I couldn't even possibly guess at. Despite it all, I would still take an uncertain life with uncertain end over certain and immediate death."
He finishes his own work and lands lightly next to the cleaning supplies before glancing towards Dreadwing. "To answer your question, we get quite a few who arrive just a moment too late for them. More than we get them alive, really. We've built quite a collection of bodies." He kneels and starts to collect those supplies specific to the job he'd been doing, leaving the others where they are.
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