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Foils
May 14, 2011 22:18:32 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 14, 2011 22:18:32 GMT -5
Month 3, Week 2, Day 3, Event Horizon, Emirate Xaaron's office, open
Emirate Xaaron kept that swordcane he picked up on Pz-Zazz. It probably counts as tampering with evidence, but he doesn't really care. It matches him!
Right now, he is standing on his desk, flourishing the sword, the cane scabbard held in his other hand. To his credit, he's actually following what the Autobot database says on epee techniques, but he still looks abjectly terrible.
Triarii's On Wings of Steel is playing, but it's not Emirate Xaaron's music.
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Foils
May 15, 2011 19:42:17 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 15, 2011 19:42:17 GMT -5
Impactor stomps into the office. He's periodically prodded Emirate Xaaron over the origins of the hard light sim room, and it's about time for that again. He stops up short, however, at both the noise and what Emirate Xaaron is doing, and his optics open wide in shock.
"What in the name of the Last Autobot are you doing?" he demands.
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Foils
May 15, 2011 21:19:57 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 15, 2011 21:19:57 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron looks down at the epee and his desk. He looks over at Impactor. Emirate Xaaron smiles, sheathes the epee, puts it away, and sits down on top of the desk. He replies innocently, "Practising."
Badly.
And may tyrants fear goes the music.
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Foils
May 16, 2011 8:32:18 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 16, 2011 8:32:18 GMT -5
Impactor snorts derisively. "You need it. You're terrible," he grunts, then shakes his head. He looks towards the source of the music. "What's up with the racket, anyway?"
Without waiting for an answer, he starts to approach the area where the music is coming from to get a closer look. It's possible that he intends to stab it.
Not likely. But possible.
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Foils
May 16, 2011 8:59:57 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 16, 2011 8:59:57 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron tilts his head to give the impression of rolling his optics, and he agrees, "Yes, I know," when Impactor says he's terrible.
"That's the Prime's," Emirate Xaaron says sharply, as to the other matter. It being someone else's property might not stop Impactor. It belonging to the Hippie Prime might even encourage Impactor more.
He slides off his desk and moves to follow Impactor around, as if he could do a thing to stop him.
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Foils
May 16, 2011 9:45:36 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 16, 2011 9:45:36 GMT -5
"It's terrible, too," Impactor proclaims. He doesn't get the whole 'alien music' appeal.
He turns back towards Emirate Xaaron, especially since the other has taken to following him around, and eyes the other warily. "We got better places to practice on this ship than standing on top of desks, y'know," he observes. He's not against making do when it comes to training on general principle, mind, but given that they have training dummies and the like available, empty desktop seems an awkward choice.
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Foils
May 16, 2011 12:14:23 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 16, 2011 12:14:23 GMT -5
"Have you even installed the Terran languages pack?" Emirate Xaaron inquires, rather amused, "I thought that No wind, no rain, no fire can prevent our way is more or less what you do."
Emirate Xaaron has his hands behind his back! He's just going to hover unnervingly near to Impactor until Impactor stops objecting to all and sundry. He shrugs and demurs, "The desk was handy. The mood seized me."
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Foils
May 16, 2011 13:20:41 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 16, 2011 13:20:41 GMT -5
Impactor turns and studies Emirate Xaaron at his defense of the music. "You sure this is Hippie Prime's music?" he asks, optics narrowed. "And yeah, I did. I just don't care for the alien racket." Apparently he intends to be just as stubborn about off-world culture as he is about gender.
"The mood... seized you," he repeats, mulling over the words. Finally, he shakes his head. "All right. Spill it. You've been acting off since I got here. What's going on?"
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Foils
May 16, 2011 20:08:33 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 16, 2011 20:08:33 GMT -5
"I'm sure," Emirate Xaaron assures breezily.
Did a gender kill Impactor's pet hellhound or something?
Emirate Xaaron leans back against his desk, putting his hands on the rim, and he explains, "I used to transform more often. Whenever I had privacy. Then it was maybe once a week, once a month, once a year, once a decade, once... a century. I know that sounds crazy, but what with the war on, it just... wasn't important, to keep myself up. You needed my voice and my mind, not a tank that can't aim. That last century... I think I would have killed myself if I transformed, I'd left it so long. We get depressed when we haven't transformed in a while, however, and I suppose my mood was... not as elevated as it could have been."
Maybe this explains the using himself at bait and playing 'poke the Wrecker' and trying to throw himself into reactors.
Maybe he'd do silly things like that anyway.
"Perceptor fixed my alternate mode for me. Transforming won't kill me. I'm trying to do it at least daily," he forgets sometimes, "but it makes me... giddy."
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Foils
May 16, 2011 21:47:13 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 16, 2011 21:47:13 GMT -5
Impactor loved that hellhound!
His brow knits and he frowns, lifting a hand to rub his chin at Emirate Xaaron's explanation. Now that he mentions it, if Impactor compares the Emirate Xaaron he knew from right before he died to the Emirate Xaaron he knew at the start of the war... "Hnh. You know, I guess you were more subdued than you used to be. It's just that the change has been so slow..." he shrugs. "I think if I ever did notice, I just figured it was from the strain of the long war. 'Course, you'd never have this problem if you weren't so hellbent on keeping your alt mode secret."
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Foils
May 17, 2011 13:23:54 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 17, 2011 13:23:54 GMT -5
"War shouldn't be a strain on me. After all, I was made for it," Emirate Xaaron observes ambivalently. "On the one hand, any death is a tragedy. On the other hand... in the beginning, we were all made warriors, to the purpose of ending another being, and I... know why I was built. The trick is just finding a worthy cause."
He admits, "I should have had more faith that it is the ideology that matters, not the mode. I might have cared a bit more about life if I had not left it so long. After you died, the... second time, one of my men defied my orders, and he saved lives in the process. He presented himself to me, expecting I'd have him executed. I... told him I'd been wrong, then. That I was playing God and treating my men like tools."
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Foils
May 18, 2011 9:01:19 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 18, 2011 9:01:19 GMT -5
Impactor just snorts when Emirate Xaaron claims that war shouldn't be a strain on him. "Somehow manages to wear down some of those pre-war peace-builds," he observes. Even the 'civilian vehicles' among their species were meant as warriors, but plenty of them spend enough time bemoaning battle. "I had no reason to think you weren't one of those." He shrugs and begins to inspect the nearest desk. That would be Rodimus's. "Most of them don't seem to get that we were at war well before they ent up involved. Iaconians generally got away with pretending a lot of things." In the end, Impactor threw in with the Autobots, and he considers his reasons good. He's smart enough to see that for Iacon's flaws, they were sharing their resources with the other city-states, and they did open their arms to the refugees of Tarn and Vos. But still, the smug mindset that the war only started when Iacon became involved still got under his armor at times.
He looks up at Xaaron and studies his old friend and commander, eyes narrowed and brows knit thoughtfully.
"So why'd your man expect execution?"
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Foils
May 19, 2011 16:02:39 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 19, 2011 16:02:39 GMT -5
"I hear the betting pool about what I might was rather amusing," Emirate Xaaron comments idly. "I wanted to send troops in to stop the fighting, but I was outvoted. Then again, if we had, I suppose Vos and Tarn would have just complaining about Iacon being Imperialist and Iacon would have complained about Iaconian lives being lost."
He shrugs, holds his hands up, and explains, "A team of Autobots built with new technology was captured. They were meant to suicide if captured, so that our new technology could not be replicated by the Decepticons. They didn't suicide. Rescue seemed impossible. So I sent a team to kill them to keep our secrets safe. The kill team brought them back alive... and we lost our new edge. Allowing the enemy to gain our secrets via inaction could be construed as treason, which is an offense worthy of the firing squad."
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Foils
May 19, 2011 19:50:23 GMT -5
Post by Impactor/"Imp" on May 19, 2011 19:50:23 GMT -5
Impactor shrugs. "I already told you what my money was on," he says. 'Something lame, like a lamp post.' Then he looks up from the desk and at Xaaron. "And I'm not denying that it was probably a no win situation," he admits seriously. "My problem is just with folks who think the fighting didn't start until Iacon started fighting.
He looks back down and prods what looks like a datapad with his harpoon. It's actually a video game system, but with it turned off, Impactor has no way of knowing this.
"So. Either they suicide themselves and just hope not enough of their parts are left for the 'Cons to figure out some or all of what made them so hot, or the 'rescue' team kill them once the 'Cons have already had a chance to study them, leaving you down however many of these 'prototypes' and the 'Cons not much worse off, or they all disobey orders and get the captives home," observes the Impactor who was generally opposed to suicide missions, at least those without really good pay-off.
Then he looks up at Emirate Xaaron again. "Yeah, I can see why they'd disobey. Glad to hear you came to your senses."
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Foils
May 19, 2011 22:10:07 GMT -5
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 19, 2011 22:10:07 GMT -5
"They were fitted with bombs. There wouldn't have been enough parts left of them, and if the kill team has destroyed the whole complex, the Decepticons would have lost the data, personnel, and the installation," Emirate Xaaron corrects gently. The matter was not so clear cut as Impactor is making it.
He shrugs and admits, "I am, too, all the same."
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