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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 17, 2013 18:41:17 GMT -5
OOC: On the Event Horizon, in the training room. Set after the departure from Earth.
Time spent as humans seems to have affected the Autobots badly. The Event Horizon seems to have been all but dead since the ship has left Earth. Of course, Rodimus hasn't been any better. For whatever reason, when he was human, Unicron was... quieter. That ended when he was returned to his proper form.
The break is over.
Besides, after so much time wearing such vulnerable flesh, the Autobots really need to get in a training session to make sure they still know how to fight in their own bodies, or to remind them if they'd forgotten.
He opens up the radio.
"All right, 'Bots. And Maximals. You know what I mean. If you're free and need any help shaking out any kinks that being flesh left in you, now's the time to work 'em out. Meet me in training room, got it?"
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Dec 18, 2013 20:08:21 GMT -5
Dinobot is just getting off a long shift repairing micrometeorite damage on the Event Horizon's outer hull; hardly fit duty for a warrior, but strenuous nonetheless. He'd been looking forward to some time in his berth, but he breaks out in a sharp-toothed grin when Rodimus's transmission comes over the radio, immediately reversing direction to head for the training room.
After all, how many opportunities to train with a Prime is he going to get?
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Post by Swerve on Dec 21, 2013 18:20:04 GMT -5
Swerve doesn't answer over the radio. It doesn't seem necessary; Rodimus gives pretty clear directions. So Swerve just shows up at the training room, hands still grease-smudged from whatever repair and rebuild work has kept him busy since they returned to their proper bodies. It's the sort of work he enjoys, but he doesn't really enjoy the reasons he's been doing it this time.
And he has felt off since coming back to himself. Not sluggish, but not quite right.
"What d'you got in mind?" he wonders gruffly on his way in, glancing around to see who else has turned out.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 21, 2013 21:13:51 GMT -5
"I suppose that'll depend on who shows up," Rodimus answers cheerfully. He looks around and smirks. "We're a little light on people for capture the flag, unless we decide to go with solid light opponents, and those without wheels'll be at a disadvantage if we go with a race of any style..." Then he tilts his head and considers before adding a shrugs. "Unless it's a foot race, I guess."
Rodimus stretches as he thinks. "I've got a few other things in mind, too, though. Like I said, it'll depend on who shows."
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Dec 22, 2013 13:51:28 GMT -5
A scaly brown snout pokes into the room, followed by the rest of Dinobot. He hasn't been feeling any less fit in robot mode since returning to his natural body. He spent most of his free time while human wandering around with a sword looking for trouble, which is what he would have been doing anyway. He feels his beast mode fighting has suffered some, though.
He turns one slit-pupiled eye to regard Swerve before addressing Rodimus Prime. "Capture the flag? Races? I was expecting combat training, not games!" he snarls.
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Post by Swerve on Dec 22, 2013 13:58:48 GMT -5
"Racing is combat where I come from, slag for brains," Swerve mutters at Dinobot. He just sort of waves one hand in the Prime's direction to signal that he heard Rodimus, then settles against a wall. He isn't quite agitated enough to start pacing. Yet.
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Holi
Major
Captain Can-Do
Posts: 672
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Post by Holi on Dec 22, 2013 17:29:27 GMT -5
Now, Holi doesn't really feel like he's all that rusty for spending time as a human. His size didn't change much and he had that little side-job from the police force that kept him in fighting condition. But it's unwise to simply assume and absolutely out of the question to ignore a chance for improvement. The captain of the Rescue Patrol would be remiss if he didn't stay on top of his training. And who knows? Maybe he needs it after all!
It's a proud little Micromaster who comes marching in fresh off monitor duty.
"Holi reporting for training, sir," he chirps at Rodimus, delivering a crisp salute, back straight, visor bright.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 24, 2013 19:40:07 GMT -5
"Since when can capture the flag or racing not involve combat?" Rodimus asks, confused. "Even humans get that! Have you seen some of their video games? All 'capture the flag' does is give a ready made goal." He shrugs. "You could just as easily replace 'flag' with 'latest Decepticon super-weapon,' and you've pretty much got half the missions Autobots have to deal with in some realities."
He rubs his chin as he considers. "Here, how about this. Team mission." Because getting this lot to work as a team should be pretty interesting, anyway. He calls up a terminal and taps a location into it - it's some sort of technological ruins set in a swamp. There are roads, but they're in poor condition and treacherous and unreliable. Over the trees, a decaying metal pyramid can be spotted. Rodimus gestures towards it. "There. The Decepticons have some new death laser or something in there and want to turn this planet's inhabited moon into energon. We've got an hour before they get it working, and we need to stop them. Fair enough?"
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Dec 25, 2013 16:43:56 GMT -5
The raptor snarls and whirls at the Velocitronian, claws clicking on the deck plating. "I don't recall asking for your opinion roden-" Dinobot's eyes widen as his main logic processes catch up with his banter subroutines "guzzler!"
Given the musculature that should be underlying it, it's surprising how expressive Dinobot's beast mode face can be. He does 'toothy grin' really well. "Excellent. What are we waiting for?"
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Post by Swerve on Dec 27, 2013 11:31:49 GMT -5
As the training room becomes a swamp right before his eyes, Swerve's expression takes on a deeply irritated new edge for reasons nobody present will fully understand. He briefly checks just to be certain his radio works properly, almost by reflex.
"Just had to be a blasted swamp," he growls, casting a critical look at Rodimus from the corners of his optics as he takes a step or two forward. His enthusiasm for the exercise has taken a big hit, but, he reminds himself, once you're in a race, you're in it. Swerve moves in slow motion compared to Holi, who zips past him, all bright optics and eager feet.
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Post by Seaspinner/Susannah Webber on Dec 28, 2013 20:38:26 GMT -5
The immersion of the simulation is briefly broken as a door spontaneously manifests in midair and an unholy fusion of arachnid and chondrichthyan hurries through it. Its work done, the door promptly disappears as soon as Seaspinner's swinging tail passes through it.
"Oh, hello, Sir Rodimus. Good day to you! And you, and you, and you also, Misters Swerve, Dinobot, and Holi. I do so apologize if I'm late." She ducks her massive sharky head bashfully. "You see I was on my way here, when I bumped into Miz Pee-Dee and, goodness, we got to talking, and I didn't want to interrupt her well she was speaking and- Anyway, I'm here now!"
Her mouth gapes in an eager, razor-toothed grin.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Dec 29, 2013 16:48:17 GMT -5
Rodimus looks at Dinobot. "I don't know. What are you waiting for?" He then shrugs at Swerve's grousing. "It's not much of training if it's only places we're comfortable with," he points out. Then he just points. "Besides, I included some roads!"
He gives an absent wave to Seaspinner. "We're just getting started." He points at the pyramid. "Matter-to-energon death laser. Decepticons. One hour to stop them. Got it? Good!" He transforms. "I think some of the waters might be deep enough for you, Seaspinner. Maximals, Autobots, move out!" he commands, his own engine starting. For the moment, it appears that he's not offering rides, but given that the road is windy, the Maximals may be able to keep up by taking straighter paths, anyway.
OOC: Feel free to include automatic defenses, death traps, and random Decepticons in your posts. For that matter, any Decepticons who want to RP hologram versions of themselves are now welcome to join.
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Dec 30, 2013 20:43:48 GMT -5
The raptor turns to face the door and readies himself to spring when he hears it materialize, expecting a sudden Decepticon attack. It's how he would have programmed the simulation, after all. He relaxes when he sees it's just a horrible nightmare creature.
"Seaspinner," he growls testily by way of greeting, turning back toward their destination and trotting off, trying pick a safe path through the swamp. Given the terrain, it's going to be challenging. For the moment he's picking his way along what looks to be a stretch of relatively dry ground between boggy patches.
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Holi
Major
Captain Can-Do
Posts: 672
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Post by Holi on Jan 4, 2014 20:43:05 GMT -5
Rodimus and Dinobot are already off, but Swerve hangs back, and Holi notices mostly because hasn't Swerve always been someone to rush in full-throttle? Holi fixes the racer with a consternated look and plants his hands on his hips.
"Come on," he chides. "You heard the commander! We don't have much time to waste!" And as if that's the end of that, Holi transforms and zips off after Rodimus. He rather wishes Boater were here, all his bluster aside. His teammate wouldn't have any problems scouting ahead in this mess.
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Post by Swerve on Jan 4, 2014 20:43:46 GMT -5
"They're lousy roads," Swerve growls under his breath, watching Rodimus head out. He has no fond memories of the last swamp he was in, certainly. But he'd had Kup to help him then.
And, he's rather shrilly reminded by the tiny cop car's minor fussing fit, the others are here now. It's just a simulation. He turns a scowl on Holi as the Micromaster takes off and shakes his fist threateningly, engine rumbling to life even before he's started transforming.
"Who the blazes d'you think you are, you little gear grinder?" he demands, wheels touching down and squelching loudly on the slick, muddy roadway.
Ahead, around the first sharp bend in the road, a bank of auto-guns arms as motion sensors are set off by the approaching party. In a line through the swamp, similar gun placements whirr to life as well.
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