Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 4, 2014 13:42:04 GMT -5
Rook takes another sip of energon, regarding Flame cooly. He'd almost feel sorry for the guzzler, except that he makes a habit of not feeling sorry for people. "Yes, I'm looking to get some upgrade work done, and you happen to be the best mechanism currently available to perform it. I don't suppose you'd be interested?"
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Swindle
Major
This space for rent.
Posts: 571
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Post by Swindle on Jan 4, 2014 13:50:24 GMT -5
The arms dealer accepts Duskwing's knuckle-bump with a smile. Swindle has always liked Duskwing. He's stupid and earns regular money. "Well, we use energon as both fuel and currency. It makes more sense to just skim a bit off the top of the drinks than to have people pay me in energon to give them energon."
He turns a circuit board over in his hands, examining it for damage as Slugslinger comes over. "Hm, but you can throw the eggshells in the trash, if memory serves. No reason to make a mess." Swindle has no plans to delete his human memories. He picked up valuable experience and business contacts on Earth. He slides the circuit board back into place and gives the lopside-faced jetformer a look, resting his elbows on the countertop as he leans back on the dispenser. "You know, these things aren't all that hard to rig. It just takes a bit of finesse," he says, lowering his voice. He really doesn't want Needlenose to overhear this conversation.
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Frenzy
Minor
Emperor of Profaningshire
Fscking Bigjobs
Posts: 339
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Post by Frenzy on Jan 5, 2014 18:37:53 GMT -5
One of Frenzy's optic-stalks twists to keep watch on Swindle. Then Crankcase makes his little shortwave burble, and the infiltrator chirps in surprise. That was neat! Everything all run together - no sass, no banter, not like Barricade - neat, though.
"Whaddaya mean 'what'?" A lower hand flickers out to touch one of ear-ridges. "I'm here, you're here, there's a party, dunno why there's a party, whatever, we need a reason?"
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Post by Crankcase on Jan 5, 2014 20:57:37 GMT -5
OOC: Shifting spot in rotation with player permissions.
//SORRY// he answers Frenzy, sticking with the short-form messaging for now. It's more comfortable and Frenzy seems to have no issues with it. That's a strangely pleasant surprise. Crankcase doesn't want to admit he was startled – an unforgivable weakness to Decepticons in general as he knows them, and to Hatchet in particular – so he fumbles for a different explanation. //DISTRACTED// is all he comes up with and it's no less unsatisfactory.
He's heard of dagger-slim creatures like Frenzy before, top-notch infiltrators, all sharpness and fluid motion. According to Crowbar, they'd actually worked with a few over the centuries, but Crankcase himself has never met one. Thought they were usually attached with a larger partner. Maybe this one's partner is about yet.
//CRANKCASE// he introduces himself awkwardly after a moment or two, earrings clinking faintly as he tilts his head just a couple degrees to offer Frenzy a better purchase on that ridge. Might as well exchange names with the Decepticon treating him like a jungle gym. The contact is a faint sort of tickle, all needle digits and magnetic assistance. He doesn't really mind much.
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Flame
Rookie
Causam ago dementia
Posts: 198
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Post by Flame on Jan 5, 2014 21:15:23 GMT -5
"Upgrades?" Flame wonders. He's reminded of a conversation with Blackarachnia that seems forever ago, but just as he tries to pull it up, it drifts through his fingers and it's gone again. He cycles his visual cluster in a slow blink as though that will clear the fuzziness in his processors. "I – I see," he says, not committing either way. This is all very vague and he's not sure how well it will go over with certain parties, this business of Decepticons – Predacons, he reminds himself – coming to him for such things.
Ah, but it isn't his place to refuse, either, now is it? It's a tense position, one that has him worrying his lower lip though his hands remain still. If he refuses, he could be reprimanded; if he agrees, he might still be reprimanded. But wouldn't it be worse for turning down a request?
"…If I may be of service, of course," he finally murmurs, uncertain yet resigned. Even more uncertainly, he gestures as if to offer Rook assistance to the nearest table so they may talk in a more comfortable fashion. He is being terribly rude, after all, looming over the small Predacon like this.
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Skywarp
Cadet
Tall, Dark, and Moody
Posts: 59
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Post by Skywarp on Jan 6, 2014 16:35:47 GMT -5
Skywarp's tone bears the hint of a smile, but the expression doesn't scan on any part of his face. It's as though someone went and gave Demolishor wings, he tells himself, halfway expecting Duskwing to launch into an impromptu ode to Megatron any second now.
"You have a brain module," he says drily, "and it doesn't seem to see much use. We've sparks where I come from," he carries on in a more conversational tone, "without the modules. Not that the additional processing power wouldn't be helpful in some cases." He's had more than enough run-ins with a raging Cyclonus to last two lifetimes. Cautiously, he fakes a sip of his drink – no mean feat given his lack of a mouth. "What about your Cybertron? Do you have Minicons there as well, or did you pick yours up after arriving here?"
Meanwhile, the Minicon that is provisionally his carefully eyes the large feet and legs nearby for proximity – where Wind Sheer comes from, nobody would think twice about kicking him as they move about the room and it's just so much easier for him to steer clear – before turning back to Mistwind. Wind Sheer smiles at Mistwind's question, if not a bit ruefully. He's not used to being considered an 'it'. Wheeljack never thought of him that way.
"It's nice to meet you, Mistwind," he says, loudly enough for their conversation but not so loud as to draw Skywarp's attention. That would just annoy the big jet. He adds as though that explains the situation entirely, "I'm a Minicon. But you aren't… are you?" They're not that disparate in size but there's a world of difference between their configuration and design. It's a bit of a novelty for Wind Sheer; he's never met anyone his size who wasn't a Minicon, not even on the asteroid.
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Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 6, 2014 18:32:50 GMT -5
Well, yes, Duskwing is a lot like a Demolisher with wings--but he resents everyone treating him like he was. He's all ready to explain about the lack of linguistic glitches, but then Skywarp's snide comment about not using his brain component registers on Duskwing's no-longer underclocked processor.
His wings stiffen, and he clutches his cube tightly, as if afraid that the officer will snatch it away. Another fscking officer! Just gotta put the dumb grunt in his place, as usual.
When Duskwing replies, his tone has changed noticeably from friendliness to grugding and surly. "Mistwind is from a Cybertron like mine. He ain't a 'minicon' thingy; either he's a Micromaster, or he's a small-body 'Con like Soundwave's guys. Difference is some tech-ni-cal thing way above my paygrade. I'm just a dumb grunt wit'out a need-ta-know."
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Jan 7, 2014 13:27:28 GMT -5
Slugslinger makes a show of shrugging off the suggestion, waving one hand in front of his face as if to clear away some foul aroma and rolling his eyes.
"Finesse, schminesse," he says not quite as softly as Swindle. After all, what does he care if Needlenose hears him playing the idiot? That's kind of the point. "I got no time for that stuff. Just wanted it to do what I wanted and needed it fast." Not that he was really in as much of a rush as he could have been; with such a diminished crew and waiting until he was done with his 'modifications' to announce himself, the whole process really was comparatively leisurely.
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 8, 2014 2:21:12 GMT -5
Vortex continues to fiddle with the music. Britney Spear’s ‘Oops! I Did it Again’ is up next.
OOC: Skippable!
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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 Jan 8, 2014 15:43:13 GMT -5
Mistwind tilts his head and gives Wind Sheer a questioning look when he admits to being a minicon. His gaze becomes a bit absent as he seems to be recollecting something. Then he blinks, “So you’re one of those types people keep confusing me with! I can see why they do that, now. But, er, no, unit Wind Sheer, this one is only military hardware.” He points up towards the purple and blue seeker, “like that, but smaller.” Among things. The jets are talking over their heads, but that doesn’t mean they’re not overheard. Mistwind tenses for just a second even though he’s still smiling; first he has a brain module, now he hails from Cybertron. He’s just seconds away from being introduced as a battle-hardened Decepticon fighter. This is turning out to be a really weird 'night'.
Wind Sheer is given another thorough looking over and Mistwind brightens up, “You have wings. You’re a jet as well? Can you fly freely or do you link up with mister Skywarp?” He asks with excitement in his voice. “What happens when you link up? I’ve heard stories about that, are they true?” Go talk somewhere, right? This is somewhere!
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Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 15, 2014 18:51:55 GMT -5
Rook gratefully climbs into Flame's proffered hand, favoring the former Autobot with a genuine smile. Finally one of the blasted guzzlers has noticed that he can't fly anymore! "Ah, thank you so much, Flame," he says from the other robot's palm. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but my original beast mode was a crow . . . er, that's an avian lifeform native to Earth. I had myself upgraded to assume various human forms to better serve the cause whilst we were on that planet. Of course, now that we're not, I find myself missing my wings." And his glorious, fabulous feathers. "And you happen to be the best choice for restoring my former beast mode. While retaining the ability to mimic humans of course. No reason to give up a potentially useful capability."
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Swindle
Major
This space for rent.
Posts: 571
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Post by Swindle on Jan 15, 2014 19:38:32 GMT -5
Swindle shrugs and favors the jetformer with another grin, pushing himself off the counter. "Whatever you say, Slugslinger. Maybe we'll chat more later." He pops out his drawer and reaches in for a few more bartending fixings, pulling them out and setting them on the counter, busying himself mixing a drink. He ends up with something similar in appearance to crude oil topped with dry ice. It's a traditional Decepticon cocktail in his home reality called a Blackmail "Here. On the house," he says, handing it to Slugslinger.
Of course, they might have different cocktails where he comes from.
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Frenzy
Minor
Emperor of Profaningshire
Fscking Bigjobs
Posts: 339
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Post by Frenzy on Jan 19, 2014 20:19:19 GMT -5
Frenzy chirps again as Crankcase tilts his head to give the infiltrator better access. It's less surprised, more pleased. With careful fingers, Frenzy begins to check the ear piece to see if the other Decepticon needs cleaning.
"Frenzy. Used to work with Barricade, but stupid bigjobs don't like good partnerships. All "co-dependent", "need to be able to work seperately", "aren't you infiltrators supposed to be flexible?"" Frenzy trails off into dark and insulting muttering in several dialects of Cybertronian. Including a few never heard in their home universe.
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Post by Crankcase on Jan 25, 2014 23:05:18 GMT -5
Frenzy will find that Crankcase has let most of his shinier parts – his ear crests included – accumulate a generous layer of oxidation and grime that turns the silvery metal mottled black. In fact, the least filthy parts of his crest are the small golden hoops piercing it. He keeps critical areas free of debris, but overall, he looks like he and a wash are only the loosest of acquaintances. Crankcase doesn't much mind the close examination; it's hardly different from Crowbar picking at him. Less likely to end in large, claw-shaped dents in his thinner panels and spans.
//ORDERS ARE ORDERS,// he answers. Though the Dreads weren't often ordered to work separately, but finding anyone who wanted to work with them proved tricky. Satisfied that Frenzy isn't likely to fall or try scratching his optics out, he turns his gaze back on the party. He wonders, watching the disparate conversations, how much his passenger would be willing to discuss this crew.
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Flame
Rookie
Causam ago dementia
Posts: 198
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Post by Flame on Jan 25, 2014 23:37:41 GMT -5
"…I?" Flame is a bit too caught off-guard to be properly flattered, though it is quite the compliment. Even if he is only the best choice by matter of circumstance. But will this turn into another débâcle, as with Blackarachnia? Flame's gaze loses focus for a moment; was it really that bad? He remembers shouting. Thinking of it gives him a vague sense of irritation.
That is not the now, he reminds himself. Carefully, so as not to upset Rook's footing, Flame seats himself and lowers the back of his hand to the tabletop so Rook may step away at his convenience.
"I – I see. Thank you," he says. If he speaks the words with an unusual timorousness, well, he can only hope he'll be excused. He doesn't want to step out of line. "You honour me with your confidence." He doesn't really specialise in this field, but surely he'll be expected to complete the task nevertheless.
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