#the rules are Soundwave doesn’t take off the mask what can I say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

endthisfool · 6 years ago

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Dirge Eater

Summary: Getting his claws on one of Brainstorm’s untested inventions leads to Whirl being flung into an universe that isn’t quite ready for someone like him. Back in Jasper, Nevada Team Prime is faced with the task of reeling in the wayward whirlybird, but it won’t be pleasant ride for anyone.

Chapter 2: Coward’s Damnation

Request: Status update. No response. Requesting Report: Mining quadrant C location 6. Distress Signal: Acknowledged. Five klicks pass. No response. This would have to be dealt with.

Dark slender digits remove themselves from their terminal, smoothly coming to rest at the sides of a pair of digitigrade legs. The slim mech turns to face the rest of the bridge, awaiting his leader’s attention. It’s currently preoccupied, vapidly so if Starscream’s...screaming meant anything. It seems Megatron was quite publicly dealing out punishment for another one of his second in command’s foolish assassination attempts. A large chunk of Starscream’s arm, including its mounted weapon, clatters against the TIC’s terminal. He stares at it reproachfully, then nudges it out of his work space with his pede. The scrape of it against the flooring is enough to garner his master’s focus. Frustration bleeds from the hulking con’s frame, and his mood shifts in an instant. He steps toward his TIC calmly, as if he hadn’t just been performing a brutal act of violence on one of his underlings mere moments ago.

“Soundwave, what do you have to report of the energon mines statuses?” Megatron comes to rest a few feet away, respectful of the silent mech’s space. In turn the spymaster flickers on his visor, concisely displaying the current issue of the quadrant C mine. A frown graces his leader’s faceplate, then something cunning flashes in his burning optics. Soundwave had no need to to dip into his processor to sense the plan he was concocting, though for whatever reason something in his tanks gave a sharp twist. “A distress signal, hm?” The silver mech looks over his shoulder, down at the sulking form of his SIC. He smirks ever so slightly, in a way that would normally bring about a content thrum of the spy’s core. “Looks like we’ll have to send someone to investigate, won’t we?”

This was wholly beneath a mech of his caliber. Completely. Disgustingly so. He could still see Megatron’s stupidly smug grin as he gave him the preposterous order to take a squad of vehicons and inspect the mine failing to respond. Like he was needed for something as mundane as that! Idiot drones probably just broke their comm equipment. Starscream huffs, kicking a rock into the area below. It clatters against metal, loud against the odd silence. A mine of all places shouldn’t be silent, but if this mine was doing what it was suppose to then he wouldn’t have been ordered here. At least being here meant he wasn’t having to tolerate that tyrant, and his mute lapdog. The vehicons mill about behind him, awaiting orders. He draws out the wait, inspecting his claws primly, and resolutely refusing to acknowledge the ruined plating of his arms. The dumb warlord didn’t even let him replace his weapons before he was sent off. “What are you waiting for?” Starscream hisses at the drones, shooing them toward the edge of the clearing, where the mine lay below. “Go on, inspect.” They peer down the crevasse, but make no move to go any further. The seeker kicks a cloud of dirt at them impatiently. One vehicon swivels around to face him a bit frantically. “Uh, sir? The guards they’re...” It trails off nervously. Starscream groans at their incompetence, marching forth and pushing them aside. The reason for the mine’s silence becoming quite clear. There’s no-one there. Not a single guard nor miner working below. It’s feverishly still. Drag marks paint the earth in splattered blue trails, each leading straight into the mine’s gaping maw. His instincts screech at him to flee, just to fly back to the Nemesis and face whatever punishment Megatron had in store for him. But he doesn’t. Haughty pride taking precedence over that lingering fear, he would not be cowed by a task for drones. With a dismissive flick of his wings he drops into the crevasse, the vehicons obediently following his lead. He nears the mine’s entrance, unease trickling down his spinal strut. Planting himself in front of it he waves the drones ahead. “Go on.” The squad shares uncertain looks amongst themselves, but nevertheless obey. They drag their pedes as if in line for a firing squad, all tense frames and shaking plating. Then they’re gone, consumed by the depths of the mine, far into that simmering darkness of endless tunnels. Starscream is left alone at the entrance, silence baring its teeth in sharp droves. Time takes its pleasure in passing impossibly slowly. By all means the vehicons should have returned long before now. So with little choice to the contrary, Starscream enters the mine. Inside the air is stagnant with the overpowering reek of energon. It fluffs his plating in an unconscious effort to appear larger. At first he sees bits of wires, and plating littered about like garbage. However the volume of gore increases as he ventures further into the mine, becoming severed limbs, and pools of congealing energon. Nervously slipping past the drone parts, the seeker spots one of his squad idling halfway around the next corner. Starscream masks his relief with ire.“What’s taking you imbeciles so long!?” He stomps toward the vehicon into a much larger cavern of the mine. Unfortunately the vehicon can’t respond, seeing as it’s just a corpse skewered to the wall by one its own arm. The remnants of the rest of his squad are scattered about the room. A few aren’t entirely dead yet, greying frames twitching periodically. One reaches out for help, grasping feebly at his pedes. The pathetic gurgle of its fluid filled vents splashes energon around the remains of its dismembered frame. Purely on habit he kicks the dying drone away from himself, the racket of metal on metal blaring throughout the space. The drone’s heaving attempts at venting end, and the entire cavern is blanketed in an eerie hush. Something from the depths of the mine scrapes out its discontent across the rocks. He should leave now, clearly this operation had failed, there was nothing but spare parts here now. The scraping sound continues. His whole frame feels like it’s been dipped in ice, he can’t seem to get his pedes working. One of the entrances to the cavern bleeds another loud scrape, sending a shudder through the seeker’s plating. Whatever killed the vehicons hadn’t left. Dread curdles in his tanks like an infectious disease. He waits frozen in place as if being still would stave off his fate. A shambling blue monster rounds the corner, dragging the mutilated corpse of a miner with a crushed helm. Macabre golden light is cast in his direction, and the creature halts. It drops the body from its huge pincers with a muted thunk that echos ominously throughout the tunnels. Claws twitch haphazardly in an aborted motion, as if trying to grasp something from the air. A gaping hole in its abdomen drains pink down its gangly legs. It chuckles. Spark beating wildly in his chassis Starscream tries to retreat backward, reaching blindly behind himself for an exit. His servos skitter uselessly against the damning cold metal of a drill. His frantic movements provokes the creature into motion, and it’s on him in an instant. Its mechanoid body slams into him like a dead-weight, toppling him over onto the ground whilst it manages to catch itself on the wall. It staggers from its excessive momentum, ripping a shard of metal from its body and lunging forward. Desperately scrabbling away, Starscream manages to get out of the way when the creature stabs the shard deep into the flooring where he had been. It rears back to its pedes, leaving its makeshift weapon in the earth, and stalks toward him. Something stark red on its chassis stands out in the dim light of its optic valiantly. On most days Starscream would groan at the sight of it, but now floods him with relief. Because this monster was an autobot, and unlike decepticons autobots can be appealed to via their foolish moral codes. Megatron’s second in command holds his servos up in surrender. “Wait wait, I’m unarmed!” Starscream displays the ragged holes where his mounted weapons once were on his arms. “I’m helpless, I surrender.” “Cool.” The sound of those twin guns warming up might as well be deafening. Starscream gapes at the unexpected reaction, his silver-tongue faltering. “B-but you’re an autobot, you’re not suppose to shoot unarmed mechs!” “Yeah but, who’s here to enforce that dumb rule?” Starscream sputters. “Optimus Prime!? Your leader!” The name drop earns a blank stare and a cocked helm. “Is he here? On Earth? This is Earth right? Looks sorta like Swerve’s fantasy of it. Much less exciting. I miss the laugh track.” He pauses, as if expecting something, then gives his leaking frame a disappointed shake. The blue mech continues speaking as if he had never stopped. “Anyway, I was kinda hoping Prime died sacrificing himself to save some scraplets, or something equally heroically idiotic.” It’s safe to say Starscream is dumbfounded by the other mech’s causal death wish on the Prime.

“Are...you sure you’re an autobot?” He’s given an intimate view down the barrels of those twin guns, and hastily tries a different tactic. “No wait! Spare me, I can give you anything you want! Anything!” “Anything...?”

At that the bot tilts his helm in the other direction, sizing up the decepticon with his off putting gaze. Uncharacteristically the seeker finds himself without words, just waiting. The two fliers linger in a tense lull. It crawls past in an agonizing drawl of seconds, unblinking. Unbidden the blue mech’s frame sags as if releasing a deep sigh, his gaze flickering to himself for a moment. He no longer appears as threatening-despite the dried energon all over his frame-just tired. It’s enough of a reaction to brew confidence back into the silver mech’s lines. So he pulls himself back up to his pedes carefully, mentally preparing a speech about the benefits of a partnership. Further assurance comes in the form of a dirty claw dropping onto his shoulder lightly, giving it a companionable squeeze. Starscream fights the urge to slap it away. ‘With this dangerous of a monster on my side I’ll be unstoppable.’ He puts on a winning grin, preening internally over his ability to turn a bad situation in his favor. That friendly touch on his shoulder tightens near imperceptibly, and he thinks the mech is trying to smile back. “...No you can’t. So, I’m kinda just going to kill you a little.” Shock works like a catalyst, sending his emotions skipping straight over fear into anger. Who was this buffoon, to deny his capabilities and threaten him in the same breath? The seeker’s wings hike high up on his back, and he doesn’t quite resist the urge to stomp his pede. “Do you know who I am!?” He sneers at the other’s faceless helm, drawing himself up tall and prideful. “I am the great Starscream, and I will not be put down like an unruly turbo-fox!” If the strange mech is affected by the outburst he doesn’t show it. “Uh, no?” The words come bluntly, but feel like they’re being spat into his faceplate. “Pretty sure that slagger is livin’ it up on Cybertron. I know a lotta people think I’m dumb, but pal, you don’t even look like him.” “What!? How dare you! I am the one and only Starsc- uRK !” Wrenched forward painfully, the claws on his shoulder are joined by a twin pair around his throat. They squeeze tightly, biting into cabling and lifting him into the air. “Get a load of this guy,” The autobot jeers, addressing the nearby corpse as one would a partner in crime. Close proximity has the curling smoke from his rotors clogging into Starscream’s intakes. Likely on purpose. “Thinks he can pretend to be Ol’ Screamer just by having a really annoying voice.” The cavern becomes a tumbling blurr, and it takes a moment for it to register that he had been thrown. Metal protests in vehement screeches as he lands slam into the control panel of a parked drill. It surges to life. Lurching on its treads it races forward uncontrollably. Starscream squawks, bouncing off the drill’s platform when it collides with something far too fast. The cavern trembles. Several large rocks break loose from the ceiling, shattering against the ground. The blue mech releases a startled yelp, falling over onto his skid plate as the ground shifts beneath them. “Was that thing important?” From the floor the jet looks up, following the outstretched claw to see the chamber’s main support beam come crashing down. He blanches and the blue mech takes it as confirmation, spilling into a clumsy transformation. He shifts into a rotorcraft, and takes to the air, narrowly avoiding being crushed beneath a falling boulder. He moves with an unprecedented agility for a mech that had appeared previously injured, and clearly has no qualms about abandoning his quarry in the failing mine. The jet screeches, taking flight as well to avoid being entombed in the chamber. Alone now, the grey corpses remain as they were, blissfully unaware of the chaos around them.

Maybe the blue energon wasn’t agreeing with his tanks, or maybe it was the boulders that had nicked him several times over. Either way this tree was holding up his weight rather well. Having crashed into it several klicks ago after his harrowing escape from the mine, Whirl reasoned he could simply climb down in his root mode. However transforming had left him tangled in the branches, too sluggish from his injuries to tear himself out. His HUD blinks a torrent of red throughout his vision, refusing its dismissal. Urgent: primary energon line severed. Energon levels approaching critical. Oh, he had forgotten to deal with that. Stabilizing gyros functioning at 43%. Spinal strut severely fractured. GPS System Offline. Core temperature overheating. Abdominal plating ruptured, foreign object located. Left leg severely damaged- He ignores the rest of the report constructing a tide of errors across his HUD. A smoldering branch makes a nice pillow for his helm, another finds a cozy home through his stomach. Pink energon seeps down the tree’s bark in fanciful rivers. Whirl wonders how fast it’ll all go up if he inched a bit closer with his sparking wires.

The autobots had pinned down an unfamiliar energy signature coming from this area, and were fairly confident it was the reported mystery mech. However, actually locating the mech was proving difficult in the dense woods. Bulkhead skirts between the thick trunks of two trees, Bee beeping a negative for the area he was searching in his comm. They hadn’t been out here for too long, though if the mech wanted to avoid them he’d likely have heard Bulkhead’s lumbering and booked it awhile ago. Part of him thinks it would be better that way, he’d rather be back at base, he and Miko had plans later. A particularly bendy branch snaps back into his faceplate, and he groans in frustration. “ Hey !” A young voice breaks his train of thought, and for a moment he thinks Miko had hijacked the comms. “Big, green, and bulbous, over here!” He looks down, and deeper within the woods stands a human. It’s a little girl, younger than Miko maybe Raf’s age, with a pair of blue pigtails. He notes the eyepatch crossing her face briefly, confusion overriding the fact that he had just been seen by an unknown human. The girl’s face splits in an too wide grin, then she brings her hands up to the sides of her head and blows a raspberry at him. Whirling around the child races off with a high pitched laugh. With the knowledge that human younglings don’t belong in the wilderness, Bulkhead follows the girl, albeit at a slower pace. She leads him to a large tree that’s been partially uprooted and stands at its base, grinning as he makes his way into the clearing carefully. The girl doesn’t say anything and neither does the autobot, already pinging Bumblebee to get in contact with Fowler about any missing children. Suddenly she points upward, and he follows her gesture up the trunk of the massive tree to the sight of a twisted mass of blue metal staring down at him. He’s several different shades of blue, one of which he realizes isn’t paint. One of his legs is twisted strangely, the thin plating bent much too far. The mech is impaled through his abdomen, though the hole was likely created by something else then further exasperated by the branch fitted through it. Exposed wires spit sparks haphazardly from his frame. Pink liquid dribbles down the bark of the tree, a strange contrast against all the blue. It’s a sickening sight. Bulkhead rips his gaze back downward to tell the girl to move, it wasn’t safe under that tree, but she’s already gone. Regretfully he doesn’t have time for another chase through the woods, so he hopes she’ll be okay for awhile longer. Bulkhead reports his finding back to base, and a groundbridge swirls to life in the clearing a few moments later as he’s breaking branches to pull the mech from the tree. Ratchet as well as Optimus exit the bridge, and set to work untangling the blue mech. “He’s in stasis lock,” The medic reports grimly once the rotormech is laid out on the ground. He hovers his servos over the mech uncertainly, faceplate pulled into a frown. “I’m not familiar with this frame-type...” “Is he going to...?” Bulkhead wisely doesn’t finish his question, earning a scathing glare from the red and white mech. “I can fix him!” Ratchet says, tone clipped, but then his expression grows worried, and he looks to Optimus. “He’s critically injured though, and couple that with the fact that I don’t recognize his frame-type, I can’t do this without my medbay.” Taking an unknown mech back to their home base was beyond risky, they all knew that. But they also knew there was no way Optimus would stand by and let someone die. The bright red autobot emblem on the blue mech’s cockpit had nothing to do with it. Optimus nods solemnly, gathering the injured blue mech into his arms, and carrying him with gentle steps into the groundbridge. Back at the base, despite their protests the humans are sent to their homes immediately. Autobot or not, an unknown mech wasn’t safe for them to be around. At Fowler’s behest a human search party is sent to the area where Bulkhead saw the little girl, and they find nothing. Not a trace, like she didn’t even exist.

Maybe he feels a little responsible for the weird mech he found, or perhaps Miko’s suspicion is rubbing off on him, but something in the back of his processor remains apprehensive about the bot being left alone and unrestrained. A little guilt rises up when he thinks back to those various dents and scratches on the fragile looking bot. Nevertheless, Bulkhead can’t help but feel the need to check-in on the mech they rescued yesterday. He enters the medbay as quietly as someone of his size can. The area is silent, save for the eerie monotone drone of flatlining spark monitor. There’s a little pool of pink liquid smeared over the berth which is considerably empty of injured blue mechs. Unease builds in a crescendo. Hydraulics hiss softly. He turns in search of the noise, calling out into the thick hush. “Uh, hello?” A weight suddenly crashes down on Bulkhead’s back and his vision is obscured, he staggers blindly into a nearby table its contents clattering onto the floor. Pain blooms around his faceplate and he realizes whatever is latched onto his back has claws. Claws that are currently scrabbling at his optics. “Just mixing things up, been going for the throat a lot lately,” A cheery voice explains helpfully, right into his audial. “Don’t want anyone thinking they can get off callin’ me predictable.” Pointed prongs hold his helm in place, preventing him from getting a glimpse of their owner. He grunts, a lance of hot pain striking him as the glass of one of his optics is cracked. Sharp claws jostle against his faceplate, messily trying for an entrance into his optic’s socket. Reaching around himself proves fruitless, his arms too short, and his adversary easily avoiding his grasp. He flails, but despite the mech’s light weight he can’t shake him off, ending up with those claws digging into his faceplate painfully. It doesn’t leave him with many options. Bulkhead stumbles backward and slams his back into a wall. There’s a sickening crunch. A strange keen peters off into a laugh, then something fierce rakes itself down his backstrut. Reacting to the pain Bulkhead smashes his attacker into the wall again, and again. The grip on his helm loosens on the fourth clash. With a grunt he manages to grab ahold of the pincers on his faceplate and pull. The mech follows, tumbling over his shoulder and onto the floor with a loud thud. Undaunted he shifts as if preparing to launch himself at the green mech again, but then swivels his faceless helm toward the entrance and falls limp against the ground. “Bulkhead! What are you doing!? I just finished repairing him!” Ratchet enters the medbay in response to the commotion, none to pleased with what he sees. The white and red medic fumes, optics flashing over the mess. “And my tools!? I needed those!” “Yeah Bulky,” Croons the rabid blue mech, looking far too comfortable from where he was still sprawled out on the floor. “What’s your problem?” “He attacked me!” Bulkhead protests, motioning helplessly to the leaking blue mech. Ratchet is unimpressed. “He’s been in stasis lock since we brought him here, I strongly doubt he’s capable of inflicting any real damage to you in his current state.” Ratchet makes his way over to the prone mech, casting a scan over his frame to inspect him for any new injuries. The blue mech seems to take that as permission to rear up and throw one of his arms around the medic’s shoulders, causing Ratchet to stumble halfway to his knees. Alarmed Bulkhead steps forward to pry the ‘copter off, but a glare from the medic stops him. Ratchet doesn’t try to escape the grasp, clearly assuming the mech simply needed help getting up on his pedes. However, when he attempts to pull his patient upward the mech resists, yanking downward instead in an impressive show of strength that leaves the medic kneeling beside him. Ratchet scowls, iconic temper flaring at the blue mech’s antics. “Quit that, I’m trying to assist you.” “Assist me? How about you start by tellin’ me where I know you from,” He’s leaning into Ratchet now, seemingly oblivious to the medic’s grimace. A single claw gives the old mech’s red chevron a flick. “You’re awfully familiar, and it isn’t just your shining personality.” Ratchet scowls further, and swats the prodding claw away from his chevron. “I’ve never met you before, I think I’d remember something that unpleasant.” In response the mech gasps theatrically, the sound in contrast with the joyful squint of his optic. Whatever nonsense he’s about to say next is thankfully stopped by the presence of another bot entering the room. Optimus Prime gives the occupants a look over, raising an eyebrow ridge at the two mechs on the floor. Embarrassed the medic stands up quickly, allowing his patient to spill back onto the floor with an undignified yelp. “Greetings,” Prime offers the mech a servo which is rudely ignored by the mech who rolls over onto his side instead, his back facing Optimus. He returns his servo to his side, sending his autobots a questioning glance and getting a pair of shrugs in return. “Welcome to Earth, I am Optimus Prime, the leader of the autobots. We found you in critical condition and brought you to our base for treatment. I understand you may be confus-“ “You here to arrest me again?” “Arrest you? No...I dont-“ He’s cut off again, now by the blue mech clambering up to his pedes. It looks painful, but he shows no signs of discomfort as he steps toward Optimus, plating creaking. “You’ve gotten shorter,” He comments, sounding almost awed. To his surprise and somewhat childish chagrin, Prime finds himself at equal optic-level with a mech that wasn’t in the process of shooting a fusion cannon at him. The rotormech appears to find some mirth in this, standing at the tips of his pedes to gain some more height on the autobot. “I like you better this way.” For diplomacy’s sake Optimus decides to ignore the claw that hovers over their helms, comparing their heights. He also ignores the fact that the other mech is several inches taller when he’s standing straight. Optimus clears his throat, a habit most of his team has picked up from the humans. “It would help us if you could provide us with your designation,” Perhaps they could find something about this strange mech in their database. Doubtful considering they didn’t have the same resources here as they did on Cybertron, nevertheless it was still important to figure out this mech’s identity. “As well as where you hail from.” The blue mech’s response is a bit unexpected, though it seemed unexpected was his forte. “You don’t remember me?” His singular gold optic is blown wide, and his blue plating ruffles about his protoform in a wave. “At all? Zero? Zip? Zilch? Nada?” Something unpleasant churns in his tanks at the reaction. “My apologies, I don’t believe we’ve met before no.” Optimus attempts a placating tilt of his helm. There was little doubt that one could easily forget this mech. That wouldn’t stop the other from perceiving his lack of recognition as an insult. Thankfully he isn’t offended, though the gleeful shine to his yellow optic is disconcerting. “In that case my name is Cyclonus of Whereeverthefrag .” He leans in and clicks the tips of his pincers together mischievously. “I enjoy brooding and threatening hugs.” “You’re from where?” Ratchet cuts in, crossing his arms over his chassis. The faceless mech contorts himself awkwardly to address him, instead of simply turning around. “ Wherewhatsitslag .” “Uh-huh. For some reason I don’t believe you.” “Rude. Wherewhothescrap may not be as fancy as Iacon, but it’s still home.” “No, that place doesn’t exist and you’re not Cyclonus.” The blue mech narrows his yellow optic with a huff. “Always the buzzkill huh, Doc-bot?” Not-Cyclonus uncontorts himself to face Optimus and strikes a pose. “The names Whirl. Don’t wear it out, or better yet don’t use it at all, you can call me ShootyMcFragU.” Optimus blinks. “...Whirl, if you’re feeling well enough, I’d like to discuss your options now that you’re here on Earth.” Further questioning would have to wait, he needed to establish some sort of framework before he accidentally set him off. Sadly, empurata victims were known for being unstable. “As of now we have been unable to confirm your status as an autobot. We’ll require you to answer some questions pertaining to that-“ Whirl’s rotors begin to spin. “ -later . If you do not wish to partake in that you’ll be reclassified as a neutral. For now though, I insist you stay on base.” Whirl’s single gold optic flickers wide, and he cocks his helm slowly, looking all too similar to the Earth creature known as an owl. In turn Optimus tenses slightly, watching the other carefully. “Wow. Why even say options when it all boils down to being grounded like a sparkling?” “I know this situation is unfavorable, however we have a duty to this planet and its inhabitants. I cannot allow you to roam unrestricted, until you are both understanding and willing to carry out that duty.” “I’ll have you know I don’t understand many things, and I do duties all the time.” Whirl retorts, claws on his narrow hips. Ratchet drags a servo down his faceplate with a long suffering sigh. “Optimus, we can’t just let him stay here, what if he’s a Decepticon spy?” Whirl’s plating flares, but instead of lashing out at the medic as Prime feared he just stares. “Yeah, he tried to rip out my optics!” Bulkhead chimes in, pointing an accusing digit at the rotormech. Indeed his faceplate did look as if a turbo-fox had been scratching at his optics. “ Still mad about that?” “It happened like five nanosecs ago!” “If you didn’t want to be twins you could have just said so,” Whirl looms over the other mech, forcing Bulkhead to bend back uncomfortably. “You probably couldn’t pull off the one optic look nearly as well as me though.” Prime steps in between the two, separating them without actually touching the blue mech. His knowledge of empurata victims now felt like it was woefully lacking, but he knew better than to grab at Whirl’s claws. “Enough. Where Whirl’s loyalties lie is a discussion for later .” Optimus stresses the last word, giving his autobots a pointed look. If they really wanted to do a full blown interrogation right now, it wouldn’t end well for any of them. They knew better than that. He returns his focus to Whirl who seems to be enjoying the autobots’s scolding. “I must ask you to refrain from attacking anyone.” Whirl’s entire frame recoils with disgust, then he falls into a deceptively lazy slouch. His burning optic regards Optimus with an odd glint, and Optimus dearly hopes he isn’t planning something. It’d been a long time since he had to deal with anyone completely unknown and unpredictable like this. Earth had certainly brought about it’s fair share of surprises, but this was something else entirely. While he was sure they had the advantage here he wasn’t keen on finding out what kind of damage Whirl could inflict when he was cornered. If the dried energon he had previously been covered in meant anything, it was probably a lot. “ Anyone is a bit of a broad term, can you pick something else? Like: don’t punch anyone yay high-“ Whirl gestures to about seven feet off the ground. “-or like shooting yes, stabbing no. I dunno, limiting my violence gives me the icks.” “...I see.” Part of him wonders if he should have expected this from a mech whose first words to him was to ask if he was getting arrested again.

#maccadam #whirl #transformers #tfp #optimus prime #ratchet #bulkhead #starscream #mtmte #lost light #my fanfics #soundwave #megatron #fanfiction #transformers prime #chapter 3 is up on my ao3 #my fics

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verdigrisprowl · 7 years ago

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Apr 11 - Cubs Baseball Game

Prowl and Soundwave go on a date. They take their holomatters to the first* Cubs home game of the season. They enjoy themselves greatly, confuse a human, get hit in the face with a baseball, and abandon a rental car like lawless beasts.

*First in the universe they visit. Differences between the first game in the universe they visit and the first game in this universe are entirely coincidental and have nothing to do with the fact that the mun couldn’t stream an early afternoon game the day before due to work.

ItsyBitsySpyers 6:33 pm ((hey so like show me what you mean)) VProwl 6:33 pm ((but i finally got it set up so I don't have to move it. 😔 ItsyBitsySpyers 6:34 pm ((afterward then)) VProwl 6:35 pm ((WELL. are we ready to go??)) ItsyBitsySpyers 6:35 pm ((ye)) VProwl 6:35 pm ((... at what point do we want to start them. like, at the entrance gate, or??)) ItsyBitsySpyers 6:37 pm ((yeah, in line or at the gate or whatever it is, so soundwave can ??? at security measures and prowl can get his gift)) VProwl 6:37 pm ((okay!)) VProwl 6:38 pm ((... i know whenever i do one-on-one streams either we try to do it asterisked and i slip into prose anyway, or we try to do prose and i slip into asterisks anyway, but i don't remember which)) ItsyBitsySpyers 6:38 pm ((it's usually the former)) VProwl 6:39 pm ((so we should just start with prose, then? ItsyBitsySpyers 6:39 pm ((might as well lmao)) VProwl 6:39 pm ((thank u.)) VProwl 6:42 pm It was more crowded than Prowl expected it would be.

No, that was a lie. He'd expected it to be this crowded. It was more crowded than Prowl HOPED it would be. They weren't even inside yet and there was already nearly too much motion for him.

He was soldiering on, though. They'd gotten all the way from his projector—left in a rental car in a parking garage (and THAT had been an adventure and a half)—across several blocks of Chicago to make it to the entrance. He'd survived the throngs of humans in the street heading for the stadium, and he'd survive the front gates.

He wasn't going to be very talkative until he was seated, though. ItsyBitsySpyers 6:50 pm Speaking of survival, Soundwave wasn't so sure he'd made it through the rental car driving intact. Being on the road again was fine by him, as he'd recently taken to the occasional quiet drive via holomatter. It was the being on the road IN SOMETHING ELSE WHILE SOMEBODY ELSE DROVE part that bothered him. Not only did he have to let someone else transport him, he had to trust that Prowl knew how to operate a human car as a human, and after seeing how well most mechs did at that...

The crowd didn't bother him as much as it did Prowl, partly because he wasn't actively listening to everyone in the area. A few people here and there, just to get an idea of what humans attending baseball games talked and thought about, but not the entire crowd.

He kept picking at his avatar's dress while he waited, irritated by the odd mix of textures, and glanced over at Prowl.

Nudge? No need to answer out loud. VProwl 6:55 pm Prowl started, but then nudged back. He's doing alright, as long as he mostly looks down. He's got their tickets in one hand—legally purchased, but made out of holomatter paper—but with the other reaches for Soundwave. A handhold would be nice, even a squishy one.

The line is diverging into two streams. Prowl looks up, sees one says "bags" and one "no bags," and moves them into the "no bags" line before looking back down. Just a metal detector, and a turnstile, and then they'll be in. No problem. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:06 pm Soundwave's more than happy to deliver that handhold, though it takes him two quick tries to get his hand lined up right. It's the pinky finger that's throwing him off. He only has a fourth finger when the deployers are docked, and seeing as they aren't right now, it's sort of awkward.

He watches people separate based on what they're carrying - strange, but not altogether unfamiliar; there were subspace scanners at many of Harmonex's higher-class venues to make sure nobody had brought in loose weapons and the like - and gets so distracted by the wide variety of backpacks, bags, purses, and other containers he forgets to keep moving until someone barks a cranky order at him.

Already marking the human's face down in his files with the intent of delivering some minor retribution after the game, Soundwave moves forward and - and what is THAT? Is that a metal detector!? How did they know to watch for Cybertronians? Where's Prowl? Did he--?

Oh. On the other side. Because holoavatars. That ItsyBitsySpyers 7:08 pm look like humans. Right. Okay.

He walks through with his head held high, silently daring the thing to go off, and has little time to celebrate its failure to identify him as an alien before bumping into a collection of metal rods with his midsection.

Scowling - not that one can see it behind the 3/4ths mask on his face - he turns to see what other humans are doing and notices them pushing the rods into a kind of spin as they walk through.

All right. Whatever this ritual is looks harmless enough. He'll get it right and come out the other side dusting himself off.

[[He is approved for attendance.]] VProwl 7:11 pm If it helps Soundwave feel better, Prowl didn't get through the turnstile any more gracefully than Soundwave.

A nod of acknowledgment to Soundwave's statement. And they're in! ... Late. He can already hear the announcements. Damn. Security took much longer than he expected. He finds a radio stream to listen in on, comms the link to Soundwave, and looks around for the promised magnets.

There—someone with a bag full of them is handing them out. He snatches two, consults his internal map of the stadium, and heads down the hallway toward their section. Come on hurry, they've missed six—seven whole pitches. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:16 pm Soundwave's only been human once before, and there was a lot more sensory data to go on at the time. He stumble-rushes after Prowl to the magnets, trying not to get too close, and toward their seats, tatters flapping a little, not any help whatsoever because he doesn't know how to determine where to sit.

At least he can hear what's going on while Prowl looks. Thank you, radio stream.

Are they close? Tell him they're close. He can smell the sweat and ooze of the humans all around him and it's disgusting. If he can get into the open air, that'll help. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:18 pm [[What is on the Dee Ell?]] VProwl 7:18 pm They're close. Here's their section—see, it says 131 over the doorway—and outside they go—

Prowl stops dead.

There are so many humans in this stadium.

There's. There's so many. And they're all wiggling.

Prowl's processor fritzes out. It takes him a moment before he can shake himself out of it, bow his head, lower his baseball cap, and power through to their row and seats. Here. Here we are. Wow. There are—there are so many humans here. "Disabled list. It means they're too injured to play and are currently in the process of healing." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:20 pm Soundwave nods, trying to get past everyone's legs with as little physical contact as possible - thank you for being a barrier, dress - and gets himself as comfortable as he can.

Here's a hand, and now he's watching. VProwl 7:21 pm Prowl takes the hand; and with the other, fiddles with his baseball cap, trying to figure out how to adjust it so that he can look at the field but block out the humans on the far side of the stadium. There. Okay. Only a few hundred moving things, this way. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:24 pm [[What are the audience rules? Do we need to do anything?]] ItsyBitsySpyers 7:25 pm Oh! Pirates!

...They're less scraggly and peg-leg-y than Earth media has led him to expect. VProwl 7:26 pm "There are often chanting and clapping rituals at these games, led by prompts on the big screens." He points at the two theater-sized screens over the left and right field seats. "I don't know the words, but they tend to repeat. If one starts, listen for the first cycle, join in on the second cycle, and stop when the h—rest of the audience stops." VProwl 7:27 pm "Otherwise, standard audience protocol applies. No jumping onto the field with the professionals, no throwing objects, et cetera." "... If a ball comes into the stands, we're allowed to keep it." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:28 pm Ohhh, chanting. He wonders if the humans are capable of making the stadium tremble, like the crystals did. Obviously the building won't sing, but...

[[...Isn't that theft?]] VProwl 7:30 pm "It's not theft because the players give permission. They keep a stock of spare balls so that they can afford to lose many and still have a surpl—" Leans forward. That ball ALMOST came into the stands. "... Like that. If that one had been a little higher and gone into the audience, whoever caught it could take it home." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:31 pm Soundwave watches Prowl lean and nods again. Something to try to do, if it happens. Though Prowl might catch it first, being that he calculates trajectories much, much faster.

[[He sees. Thank you.]] VProwl 7:32 pm What's going on, Lester. One player's already on base and you walk another? Tsk. "Mhm." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:33 pm [[Oh!]] Polite clap. [[Most impressive, fleshling.]] VProwl 7:33 pm He sighs before the home run has even landed, he can tell where it's going. Shouldn't have walked that last guy, Lester. VProwl 7:34 pm At Soundwave's reaction, though, he suppresses a laugh. "It is impressive, yes—but that's the visiting team. It's—not common to applaud for the visiting team. Unless the visiting team is your preferred one and you've shown up to show allegiance to them." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:35 pm [[But he HAS performed well. Should his victory not be acknowledged?]] VProwl 7:36 pm "Baseball is very factional. Most commonly, fans choose a team and root for their success—and root for their opponents' losses. A good performance by the enemy team is perceived as a blow to your preferred team." "You're right, he did perform well—but by performing well he put the Pirates three runs ahead of the Cubs. And this is a stadium full of Cubs fans." VProwl 7:41 pm (Meanwhile, the unusually astute man behind Prowl is wondering who the woman in front of him is talking to. The person she came with, the one in the tattered dress, isn't replying. She doesn't seem to have a headset in, so it's not a phone call. What's going on here.) ItsyBitsySpyers 7:42 pm Oh. So not unlike the sports games on Cybertron, then. Importance on the level of a miniature war. Which probably means shouting matches, threats, and brawls between audience members.

He glances around to see if anyone's aiming anything dangerous at him. Doesn't look like it. Just in case, he'll boom something Worf once shouted through his avatar to convince the other humans he's not on the opposing faction.

"DEATH TO THE OPPOSITION!" [[Is that better?]] VProwl 7:43 pm (The unusually astute man behind Prowl starts at the shout, and spills his beer in his lap.) VProwl 7:44 pm "That's a bit more in the spirit of it, yes. Although death threats are a bit extreme for most hu—local sporting events." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:45 pm [[...Mild pain?]] It doesn't have the same ring to it. VProwl 7:45 pm "From what I've seen, they typically wish unpleasant sexual encounters on their enemies." Well, the Cubs have a chance to catch up now. That's something. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:46 pm He leans back in disgust. Who would wish that kind of thing?

[[He injured the batter--? Is he to be on the Dee Ell now?]] VProwl 7:47 pm "No, it's not a severe enough injury for that. If a batter is struck with a ball but not injured, they get to proceed to first base for free." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:47 pm [[They pay for the bases they go to?]] VProwl 7:47 pm FIST PUMP. First run. All right. Probably an error. "... 'For free' in the sense that they didn't have to earn it through hitting the ball." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:49 pm [[Oh. Of course.]] Someone feels dumb now. [[What happens if a different player is injured? Are more bases given for free? What if it is an enemy player?]] VProwl 7:50 pm "If they injure their own teammate, they just have to deal with it— YES!" ItsyBitsySpyers 7:50 pm NOW he claps. And chuckles softly. Dancing. VProwl 7:51 pm ((oh my god those dances are killing me)) VProwl 7:52 pm "Oh! Yes, look." Points. "You saw that ball go foul, into the stands? The audience gets to keep it. Notice it didn't get thrown back." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:55 pm [[He has another qu--]] ...Someone is staring at him. He can sense it. He twists one way and then the other, trying to identify the human responsible, and settles on the one with the wet lap.

Ugh. Couldn't they have waited until they were somewhere else to do their leaking?

Still, they ARE staring, in the way that usually means someone is trying to work something out. And it occurs to Soundwave, roughly an hour into this date, that he has only said one thing out loud the whole time.

"...Question," the avatar grinds out (not in his voice) as he turns back to face the field. "Why swing high? Low flights: difficult catches." "Yes. Foul ball: seen." ItsyBitsySpyers 7:55 pm That one's closer to them, but not close enough. He hopes one will come their way. VProwl 7:58 pm Oh, speaking out loud, now? "You mean to make the ball go high? It's easier to catch a pop fly—IF it lands inside the field—but, if the ball doesn't go as far and lands in the infield, it's much easier to throw the ball to first and get the batter out that way. But sometimes they do hit them low, depending on what tactics they're going for. If they think it will be unexpected, or if the team on defense is expecting a long shot and has drifted back from their usual position." VProwl 8:02 pm (The unusually astute man with a soggy lap has concluded that the reason he couldn't hear anything out of the person in the dress earlier is because she was speaking too low to be heard. And no wonder. Well, he supposes he's happy for her that she's got the courage to speak up now. Can't be easy with a voice like that.) ItsyBitsySpyers 8:05 pm "More strategy than expected, this."

He sits up. Did the Cub humans get both of the people running for bases out? It looked like it to him, but he can't be sure, as he doesn't know the rules as well.

"Two?" VProwl 8:06 pm "It's all about strategy. ... Strategy and athleticism. Mainly strategy." Mainly to Prowl, anyway. "Two—out at once? Yes. It's called a double play." ItsyBitsySpyers 8:09 pm "Strategies planned before game?"

If Prowl were playing, he could see there being meetings involving precisely how fast to throw, how, and where, with specialized information on each player. Humans were a little less skilled. And by a little, he means a whole fragging lot.

"What term, two bases acquired?" ItsyBitsySpyers 8:10 pm He shakes his head. A little more and the enemy would not have caught that. VProwl 8:12 pm "Yes—they might choose who's playing in what positions based on what they know about their opponent's strengths and weaknesses—what kind of balls they swing at, what kind of throws this pitcher uses—even whether a human prefers to use his left or right hand features in a team's strategies. Of course, the actual tactics will evolve in real time as the game plays," Prowl says. "Two bases is a double." ItsyBitsySpyers 8:13 pm ...Huh. Maybe he isn't giving the players' leading tactician enough credit. They're still no Prowl, but that's better than he expected to hear. VProwl 8:17 pm (The unusually astute man has just about convinced himself that the women in front of him are a couple of lesbians, and that the one in the pants is teaching the one in the dress about the game. He's got a cousin who's a lesbian, usually one of them knows the guy stuff, right? right. definitely. And then she says "human" and he's got no idea what to think anymore.) Prowl points. "That's why you don't want to hit low. It's much easier to scoop up and throw to a base." VProwl 8:19 pm While the players are switching for the next inning, Prowl takes the opportunity to admire his magnets. Wow. Look at them. With schedules and everything. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:20 pm Soundwave tries to peek without getting much closer. Even through the avatar, he dislikes the idea of being near them. Never know what they might do to him.

"One home, one glove c... pocket?" VProwl 8:22 pm "... Glove pocket?" A puzzled look, before he figures out what Soundwave meant. "Oh! No, I keep them in my..." He pats his lower leg and tries to think of the appropriate human equivalent. "... Ssssock." (The unusually astute man leaves to get another beer. Or two.) ItsyBitsySpyers 8:25 pm Ah, yes. He's pretty sure he's seen Prowl take magnets out of that general area before. How much room is there in his, uh. Sock? Are the magnets just crammed back to back in there? He'll have to have Prowl show him some time. When he can see Prowl in person and not just by avatar.

Soundwave hears the man moving about behind them and waits until he's gone to whisper.

"Where going, human behind Prowl?" Who or what is Nuveen and why do they have their name on a huge display, he wonders. VProwl 8:28 pm "Probably to get food. It's common, but not necessary, to eat at baseball games. Traditional foods include peanuts and cracker jacks. On special occasions they sell hot dogs for a dollar." Prowl wouldn't know about the name on the huge display, he's got his hat positioned so he can't see the opposite stands, much less the displays. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:29 pm Fun fact: Most humans can't make a mask look horrified. Soundwave is a pro with some eight to twelve million years of experience under his belt, though, so he makes it work. (It's mostly body language.)

"DOGS?" VProwl 8:31 pm "Er—yes. They're ground up into tube form and served on grain buns." Prowl looks around, spots someone a couple of rows ahead biting into one, and points. "Like that." ItsyBitsySpyers 8:33 pm "But dogs: pets..."

Soundwave follows Prowl's pointing hand oh so slowly, not at all ready to see... something. A tube of meat and blood and clumps of fur, maybe.

It doesn't look as horrible as all that, but he still can't believe it. A dog tube. He's only too happy to be distracted by the broken bat piece that's gone flying. VProwl 8:34 pm "They're apparently both pets and prey. Or maybe the pet breeds are different from the prey breeds." ItsyBitsySpyers 8:35 pm "Request: Do not inform Ravage." VProwl 8:36 pm A puzzled glance, but Prowl nods. "Sure." He wonders if Ravage would be disgusted, or overly delighted. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:36 pm Knowing Ravage? He'd borrow money from Soundwave and go into hot dog manufacturing with a holoform of his own. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:38 pm Boo, enemy faction playing again. At least the Cub humans are staying ahead. Only by one point, but one point is one point. Quiet huffing. The human didn't even check to see whether or not the hit was valid before running off. VProwl 8:39 pm A side glance. "Hm?" ItsyBitsySpyers 8:40 pm "Bad... bunt. Small movement. Running anyway." VProwl 8:40 pm (The unusually astute man returns. He's got a beer and two hot dogs.) "Oh. Yes. Generally the batter runs as soon as he knows he's hit the ball because the time he would waste checking to see if it's good might prevent him from reaching first base safely." VProwl 8:42 pm He leans forward, frowning. He's worried about that runner on— Oh, and that's exactly what he was worried about. Tsk. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:43 pm Soundwave immediately turns to see if it is the same human coming back as the one who left. He's not disappointed. Not by that, anyway.

He looks from the man's face to the hot dogs and back up, then shakes his head. "/Shameful,/" he declares. "No apparent value, label: 'man's best friend'."

Back to the game. "What missed?" VProwl 8:45 pm He stares at the woman in the dress, jaw dropped, until she turns away. ... What? ItsyBitsySpyers 8:46 pm Groups of 15 or more? Hmm. How many are they, between them? Five constructicons, Prowl, himself, seven deployers... damn. That's fourteen. VProwl 8:47 pm Prowl nudges Soundwave. "Don't shame them for their culture. If they want to eat dogs, that's their prerogative." He turns back to the man. "Sorry. We, uh—don't eat dogs in our country." And turns back to the game. VProwl 8:48 pm (He continues standing there, jaw still dropped. What??) ItsyBitsySpyers 8:51 pm Soundwave accepts the nudge but folds his arms. He still can't believe it and he won't apologize himself. That kind of thing is exactly why he has difficulty trusting mechs who want him to be their 'friend'. At least Prowl isn't like that.

"How many, in-ings? This, evening now."

He jerks his chin toward the sky. It's dark. How late do they mean to keep playing? ItsyBitsySpyers 8:52 pm And is promptly socked in the face by the ball flying into the crowd.

In his defense, he tried to catch it. He just... forgot he didn't have feelers in this shape. VProwl 8:53 pm "Nine innings total, unless they end the ninth inning with a tie. Then, they keep playing until they finish an inning with the tie broken. We're in the bot—" SCRAP. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking at the field, I didn't see it coming—are you all right?" VProwl 8:54 pm That's what he gets for looking away for a second. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:56 pm Yes, he's fine. He's fine. There's a fat crack running up the cheek of the mask, and he's just sort of got his head tilted back and resting on the back of the chair, quietly staring at the sky, but he's fine. It's just an avatar.

...He slowly picks the ball off his lap and hands it over without moving or saying anything else. VProwl 8:57 pm He gently takes the ball. And then gently pets Soundwave's head. "Can you still move?" ItsyBitsySpyers 8:58 pm "Affirmative." He'd just like not to, for a moment. Y'know, lest he take the ball back and hurl it at the batter with deadly force. Which he's pretty sure Prowl wouldn't want. "Who, batter now?" VProwl 8:59 pm Oh, they already switched pitchers. That's... early. "Uh..." He squints. "... Brault. He's got a .400 average." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:00 pm Good. The Brault human isn't the one who needs finding and injuring. "Meaning?" VProwl 9:00 pm "Well. He doesn't anymore." VProwl 9:03 pm "Meaning that this season, so far, he gets a hit forty percent of the times he comes to bat. Total hits divided by total at bats. One of numerous commonly-tracked statistics. An average batting average is .255. A .500 is considered spectacular but is usually a function of good luck." ".400 is very good, but it was derived from the only five at bats he's had this season, so it's too small a sample size to be truly representative." "Now he's .333." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:07 pm Okay. Okay, he'll sit up now. Move his jaw around a little beneath its cover. There's clapping, and he wants in on-- aw. It's over.

".255: small percent. That, sad. Prowl: better." Just in time to see that hilarious little twist-up of legs. Another huff. VProwl 9:07 pm (The unusually astute man has been staring dolefully at his hot dogs for over an inning.) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:08 pm Good. Be guilty. Friend-eater. Ah, nicely done. VProwl 9:09 pm "Twenty five point five percent? Getting a hit one every four at bats? No, that's very good. I have an unusual advantage, but even I don't know if I'd have the reflexes to achieve that in actual game conditions." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:11 pm "Why not test?" He motions to the avatar. It's a human, isn't it? Surely they could find a way to get it into a game. VProwl 9:12 pm A look at Soundwave, and then back at the field. (He's learned not to look away too long, it's perilous.) "Why? No. Why, though?" ItsyBitsySpyers 9:13 pm Soundwave throws an arm over his face as soon as he sees the ball heading loosely in that direction, just in case. It's unnecessary, this time.

"Prowl doesn't know." Shrug. Drops his arm and nods at the good hit. A double, as Prowl called it. "Test provides answer." VProwl 9:13 pm "YES! ... Sorry." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:14 pm "Apology: unnecessary. Good play." VProwl 9:14 pm "It was." And a two point lead! How nice. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:14 pm Swaying a little to the music. VProwl 9:15 pm ... He's making it hard to want to watch the game instead of him. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:16 pm If it helps, the music's stopped now, and so has he. VProwl 9:17 pm (Despite his harrowing experience, the unusually astute man has worked up the nerve to eat his hot dogs.) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:17 pm And a sudden startle.

"Why booing?" Soundwave hears eating. He turns to give the unusually astute man another quick stare before looking back at the crack of a ball being hit. VProwl 9:18 pm "If the audience disagrees with the umpire, they often boo." "HA!" This is a good inning. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:20 pm Well, now they have good reason to cheer instead. Twice the points! Whatever prize awaits the victor of these games will have to be a good one, if they can keep that up. ...That's a good question, actually.

"What prize, winning? Trophy? Currency?" ItsyBitsySpyers 9:22 pm "...Losers not terminated, correct...?" ItsyBitsySpyers 9:22 pm After the things the little baseball robots have told them, he's a little concerned. VProwl 9:28 pm "No, no. Nobody's terminated. I don't know that there's any particular reward for winning an individual game, though. Each team plays 162 games per season. The teams that win the most games enter an end-of-season tournament, and the winners of that tournament are recognized as the overall winners of that year. I don't know if there's any reward for being the winners other than the fame. There might be a trophy." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:28 pm !!! SINGING. VProwl 9:29 pm He pings Soundwave the lyrics. He knows this one. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:29 pm BIG APPLAUSE. VProwl 9:30 pm "They sing that at every baseball game in the middle of the seventh inning." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:30 pm "...Every game? All teams?" He's totally distracted from this talk of tournaments and possible trophies. VProwl 9:31 pm "Every game, all teams. They sing America's theme song before the first pitch, too, but we got here too late for that." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:33 pm He missed a group sing? Unacceptable. He can miss a few pitches, but missing that many people sharing music? Awful.

"Next time, faster driving, walking."

...Oh, right. What were they talking about before that?

"End-of-season tournament - that, watched before, correct? These humans: winners." VProwl 9:33 pm (The unusually astute man hears "America's theme song" and chokes on his beer.) "It should be less difficult to get through the gates at future games. This is the first home game of the season, that draws a larger crowd." Prowl nods. "Yes. Last year. The Cubs won. It was a fantastic game—and the first time they'd won the tournament in over a century." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:35 pm Automatically, because he's accustomed to Frenzy hastily chugging his energon and choking on it like every other day: "Suggestion: Drink slower."

"Soundwave recalls. Enjoyable time. This, too." VProwl 9:36 pm (Why is she listening to me, wonders the man who's been listening to her.) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:37 pm Bobbing to the whooping and pointing out of where objects are. It's hard not to do a little dancing in his chair when good hits happen and bits of songs are playing. VProwl 9:37 pm (And why has she said the names "Prowl" and "Soundwave," wonders this very astute man.) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:37 pm (Primarily because nobody told her - him - whatever, to think of a human name.) VProwl 9:38 pm "You like it, then?" Well—there was certainly visual evidence of that. The bobbing and dancing and all. But still. Confirmation! VProwl 9:40 pm "... When did they make four more runs?" He really has been paying more attention to Soundwave than the game. Oops. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:42 pm "Multiple doubles, good hits" he says, pointing at the field. He sends Prowl a quick summary of the last several... what are they called? Turns? Rounds? Throws? Never mind. They've been doing well, is the point. "And, affirmative. Exciting without bloodshed." "Another!" He wants to see someone take three, though. Can they do that? VProwl 9:44 pm "Oh, thank you." And Soundwave's paying more attention than him. Heh. "Yes—that's why I like it. It's, it's all—math and tactics and competition. There's so much strategy inside it. Strategy and statistics, that's all the game is. But, if you miscalculate—nobody dies for it." (The unusually astute man quietly picks himself and his beer up and shuffles out of his seat. He's gonna go make a call.) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:46 pm He's SO entranced, in fact, that he hasn't even noticed quite how cold it's gotten. Granted, his avatar isn't as sensitive as Prowl's is post-patch, but that's usually the kind of thing he pays attention to.

"Prowl knows games: ping-pong, tennis? These, also trajectory, hitting."

...Now where's he off to, that fleshling? More dog eating? VProwl 9:48 pm Prowl quietly shut off his thermal sensors sometime around the second inning. "I know them, yes. But they're far less complex. Less players, less numbers to analyze." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:49 pm Ohh. So not enough to entertain with.

"What else liked, then?" Hah. That human didn't even get to stand on the first base. VProwl 9:51 pm "Among e—local sports? Just baseball. But I don't know them all." ItsyBitsySpyers 9:53 pm "Call Eject, if alive. That, own main reference source."

Damn. They got a point. VProwl 9:54 pm "Maybe. I crossed paths with him a couple of years ago." VProwl 9:55 pm (The unusually astute man shuffles back to his seat. He'd called the police to report that he'd seen a couple of Transformers. At the Cubs game. Lesbian Transformers. In disguise. As humans. The police dispatcher told him to enjoy his game and find a designated driver.) VProwl 10:00 pm He saw that one! He's paying attention to the game again. Huffs. And the batter comes back out just to be cheered at again. Charming. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:01 pm He deserves it. VProwl 10:03 pm "... I didn't— I mean— I expected you'd... enjoy it on my behalf, but not... /enjoy/-enjoy it. What do you like about it?" The seventh inning stretch, obviously, but other than that. VProwl 10:06 pm "Oh—the game is probably going to be over after this half inning, by the way." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:08 pm "Prowl's, crowd's excitement: infectious. Strength displays - there, broken bat. Music. Humans running, chasing, catching, sliding - these, interesting activity choices. Safe athleticism, no death. Also amusing." "...Cub humans not allowed other half? How known, true point total?" VProwl 10:09 pm And that's the end of the game. Prowl stays in his seat, but many humans start to get up. "Oh—and they have a winning song." As Soundwave can hear. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:10 pm He's recording it. And listening to the human being interviewed. He formed a conjunx contract? How pleasant for the fleshling. VProwl 10:11 pm "The true point total isn't as important to them as just knowing who's going to win. If the team in the bottom half of the inning is leading, then there's no reason to play the bottom of the ninth, because no matter what they're still going to win." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:12 pm Irritated huff. "Data still incomplete." But he supposed he could understand why people who didn't focus as much on that wouldn't care. "What now?" VProwl 10:16 pm "Incomplete, yes—but at that point, the data from the bottom of the ninth would be useless anyway. The pitcher wouldn't work as hard because he'd know that nothing he did could change the end of the game, so he might as well throw easy pitches in order to save his arm strength for future games. The batters would slack off for the same reason. There's no strategic benefit to putting real effort into the bottom of the ninth when the game is already decided, so it would be impractical to make the players play and then judge them in any way based on that performance. It would only skew the statistics by throwing in junk data."

He looks around the stadium, then quickly back down. "... Let's wait for it to clear out a little. So we don't have to go through as large a crowd." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:19 pm Now that was a better argument, and one he could accept, if after a few seconds' thought.

"Acceptable. Reasoning, request both."

He scoots down in his seat, intrigued by the feeling of a flat surface on a flat back, and picks at the beading on his dress again. Why the holomatter generator insisted on giving him this fancy mess of a clothing item instead of something more practical, he'll never know. He didn't even go this ornate at the gala.

...Can he have Prowl's hand? With the one not busy pulling off decorations that fizzle out as soon as he 'drops' them, that is. VProwl 10:21 pm He can absolutely have Prowl's hand. Prowl's not doing anything with it.

He lowers his voice. "Careful, someone might notice." (Luckily for them, the unusually astute man has already joined the shuffle heading home.) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:26 pm "Date: pleasant. Gratitude given." He'll take it and - well, he doesn't have lips. That's why he had to program a mask in. He'll bump the hand against the mask's lips, and that'll be close enough for now.

And then he'll look over for a second before looking back at his holoform. Oh, right. "Apologies." Soundwave will just. Sit on his hand. Which is odd for him, without deployers attached. "Question: If this, repeated, perhaps suitable modifications: human fuel? Many surrounding eat, drink." Pause. "NOT dogs." VProwl 10:29 pm "Thank you for coming. I enjoyed it." He takes the opportunity to brush the back of his fingers against Soundwave's—well. "Cheek." Masked cheek.

"Do you mean holomatter fuel? Or modifications that would allow us to eat? I don't particularly feel the need to, but—if you want to, we could find a way." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:34 pm Soundwave leans into the brush while it's there, sighing. It's nice to be able to do things like this without worrying if Smokescreen or Starscream or Pipes or... he doesn't know. Confektor, or somebody like that, can see them at it. Not counting the unusually astute but now absent man with the soggy lap and the hot dogs of guilt, that is.

"Holomatter fuel. Real human fuel: unappetizing." VProwl 10:35 pm "So we're going to be Odo?" A half smile. "I don't know how the current holomatter animation tools handle liquids, I've never looked into it. It should be possible to make foods, at least." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:40 pm "Prowl only." He pulls the other hand out from under his leg to hover a pointing finger just over the general area of where the police decal would be. "Soundwave not officer. Damar, perhaps. Less high grade."

"...Before then, face problem: fixed. Promised." Can't convincingly eat food when you don't have a mouth or mobile parts to eat it with. "Next question: Return rental car trip required? Parking garage coordinate message not possible?"

Somewhat guilty head duck. It's still sort of awkward, Prowl, he's sorry. VProwl 10:42 pm "... Well. I guess if we just abandon it there and send them a cryptic ransom letter-like message telling them where to pick it up, they could hardly stop us, could they?" To be fair, trying to figure out exactly how much pressure to put on the petal to get it to travel at the correct speed without jerking had been... a trial. He wouldn't mind not doing that again. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:45 pm "...That, agreement?" He couldn't tell if Prowl was just asking or if that was his way of saying he wouldn't mind going along with the plan. Just in case: "New alias, next time."

"...What alias, this time?"

NOW he thinks about the fact that he doesn't have a name picked out for this human shape of his. It's a little late. Somewhere, a beer-soaked man probably knows exactly who he is.

That's going to be awkward if his alternate ever hears about it. VProwl 10:50 pm "Oh, why not. We can find somewhere without security cameras to bridge the holomatter generator out."

He has to think a bit to pull up the file with his alias. "... Eileen A. Rodriguez. 872 Rivendell Drive, Akron, Ohio, 44313. I used a random generator to produce the information." ItsyBitsySpyers 10:56 pm Prowl, actually breaking social rules and an established contract? And here he thought tonight couldn't get any more enjoyable.

"Farewell, Eileen. Rental location: final known paperwork appearance." If he'd had his visor on, he might have added an image of a random gravestone for humor's sake. As it was, all he could do was examine their surroundings to see how empty the place had gotten. "Quieter now. Come. We go, bridge home. There, trajectory calculations shared?" ItsyBitsySpyers 10:57 pm He wanted to let Prowl show off a little. Maybe talk about the really exciting ones, the pitches that went badly or balls that connected but didn't fly where the players hoped. VProwl 10:59 pm "Let's walk back to the car, I've got to leave the keys with it." He might not be following the expected contract but he's going to pay his fine and he's not going to make the job hard for whoever comes to pick up the car. "And then yes. Let's head home. I'll show you a bit of the game from my perspective." ItsyBitsySpyers 11:04 pm Oh well. Can't bend a lawmech /too/ far without completely breaking them. Key depositing it is.

"That, acceptable. ... If walk not too long." He's noticed how cold it is now, by the way. "Cities: different, this height. Also, overheard: Chicago city contains enormous preserved legume. Perhaps that, near here?"

After a few light claps to show his satisfaction with the plan, he stands and offers a hand up. C'mon. Time to get off this freezing mudball and into a nice, toasty apartment. VProwl 11:06 pm "I haven't heard about the legume. If you want to track it down, we can?"

He takes the hand. All right. Time to go home. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:07 pm "...When warmer."

And off they go.

#slenderwave #chat

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verdigrisprowl · 8 years ago

Text

Feb 13 Lost Light Stream - Soundwave’s Bar - Transformers Prime 60-62

To Soundwave’s shock and amazement, not a single person commented on the fact that his alternate spoke.

It wasn’t much commented on, but Prowl was more struck by the fact that Ratchet said “Soundwave is no ordinary Cybertronian—inside or out” and advocated dissection. His opinion of Ratchet plummeted.

ItsyBitsySpyers: ((lemme grab a quick drink and i'll start preshow)) Shockbox: I see we are back again with these...choreographed videos. Windchill: *Walks in at exactly the wrong moment, as usual.* Shockbox: *As disturbed as he is capable of looking.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave's just setting out snacks. He may or may not have taken to doing these mostly because he knows it confuses people.* Shockbox: *Snacks, you say? Now, that sounds much more interesting.* Windchill: *He won't be eating after a display like that, thanks.* Shockwave: ((hm. taking a long time to load in for me)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((is anyone else having trouble)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i paused it)) FakeProwl: *oh good. megatron dancing. just what prowl was hoping to see when he arrived* Bruin: *((nope)) FakeProwl: ((i just got here so idk.)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((give it a sec txen. sometimes it needs a moment to get goin)) Windchill: (( I didn't notice any trouble thus far!)) Shockwave: ((hrm.)) Shockwave: ((i hope its not being adblocked or something)) FakeProwl: ((i've got adblock on and it's okay for me)) Shockwave: ((ah, a refresh fixed it)) Primus: [I should reset my icon. >u> Shockwave: *if he could squint at the screen, he would* Shockbox: *He shares that sentiment.* boomtank: ((whaaaat the frickfrack ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Greetings. We will start in a little bit. He is waiting for something to resolve itself.]] Primus: [Think that did it] boomtank: -Blaster would like to know what that was because what the Pit- Primus: [I'm either a chaos god or a warbird] Primus: [orprimus] FakeProwl: *ah. and now it's prowl's alternate that knows how to dance.* Buzzstrike: Thank you, Soundwave. Shockwave: ((how do you change your icon again...)) boomtank: -mild concern now- ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Mmhm.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i'll start at 9) Whirl: Of course. Why did I think anything else would be playing. Whirl: Why did I fool myself with that small glowing shred of HOPE... Shockbox: (( I think we're stuck being rabbits for the night, txen.)) FakeProwl: Look on the bright side. You missed Megatron. Whirl: Oh, thank god. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Show something else? And miss out on all these complaints? Ha.* Primus: *Is amused* boomtank: Uh...what? Starscream: ((lurking ooc for now, working on a sculpt Buzzstrike: *blinks* Starscream: ((Also my bun is the cutest Windchill: *Oh look, Whirl, his arch nemesis, has arrived.* Whirl: *stops in the doorway and POINTS at Windchill* YOU. Windchill: *Points at himself.* Me? Whirl: You. Prepare to have your ass kicked. Windchill: Finally. Windchill: My entire life has led up to this moment. Primus: *Will just be off somewhere else away from the cluckoos* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Do not worry. No other Prowl alternate recordings possessed. Airachnid: [she isn't even phased by what's on screen anymore] Primus: *Kinda tempted to show Soundwave something* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I'm not really bothered by them. I just feel like they set up unrealistic expectations for my capabilities.» Shockwave: ((oh is guest puff) Shockwave: ((i was like i dont see puff here)) Bruin: *clomps on in, Spotter on a shoulder, and look at that Specter finally decided to come along too* FakeProwl: ((wait does my name say guest. why.)) Starscream: ((u a guest FakeProwl: ((:T rabbit i TOLD u my name)) Whirl: *advances, clicking his claws* Also, I found that thing you sent me. You maniac. What were you thinking? Starscream: ((Tonight Prowl wears a Guy Fawkes mask Windchill: Are you menacing me? FakeProwl: ((fixed?)) Whirl: Do you feel MENACED? ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): That skill not expected. Windchill: ...A little. Whirl: ((Yes! I see prowlbun)) Primus: *Spider lady here. Nope. Going to avoid her to avoid spooking her* Shockbox: *Watching his iteration of Soundwave dance is....interesting, for him.* Whirl: I can tell this guy what I want to do with his body. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave settles in on a chair and steeples his fingers.* Whirl: I bet none of you can guess. Shockwave: Darksteel: Punch it? FakeProwl: *dryly* Does he survive it? Guest: Oh primus Whirl: He does not! Windchill: *Snorts& Whirl: It involves immolation. Windchill: Nice. Whirl: Hey, look, Blaster! You're famous! Shockwave: Darksteel: Immo-what? Whirl: Set him on fire. Shockbox: *He's grabbing snacks during this one.* Txen: Darksteel: Oh!! Hey! -We're- good at that. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Blaster appears to be a popular choice for dancing with his alternate. He is still investigating why.]] boomtank: Sorry, can't dance like my alternate FakeProwl: *is there space next to Soundwave? If so, sits next to.* Infinite: look at these sexy boxes Infinite: look at them dance Shockbox: Excuse you. Airachnid: [she sees you Primus, she sees you] ItsyBitsySpyers: *There is space for whichever allies feel like parking there.* FakeProwl: *... he's not sure if he and Primus are still on speaking terms, so he just nods as he passes* Whirl: A likely story. *sets himself down at Windchill's table, sprawling comfortably* Councilor: that was a crotch zoom Txen: *Shockwaves a creature of habit. what's he going to do, go sit on Whirl?* Councilor: if I ever saw any Whirl: I'm sensing a theme here. Councilor: yonCE ItsyBitsySpyers: *Poor Whirl's legs. We hardly knew ye.* Primus: *Prowl can still talk to him. Just avoiding others to not cause trouble* Whirl: *buck the trend, come sit on me, Worm Guy* Windchill: *Was going to say something, but wasn't expecting that crotch to the face. Sorry.* FakeProwl: *given how their last conversation ended, Prowl doesn't know that. so a polite nod it will be.* Txen: *alas. soundwave > worms* Whirl: ((whop brb y'all)) boomtank: -Oh. Primus is here. He should...probably apologize for running out during the card game?- Councilor: I don't want to be a rabbit anymore Councilor: how do I fiX THIs Txen: ((oh, havent seen a kaon before i dont think)) Buzzstrike: (I think you have to register for an account to stop being a bunny?) FakeProwl: ((that's a nice looking model. good glowing bits.)) Councilor: (( it would seem so )) Primus: *Blaster is fine, btw* Airachnid: yeah you have to have an account to be not a bunny)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((one more after this and then start, so get what you need and get settled)) FakeProwl: ((I always like when they take the extra step to give the TFs glowy bits or metallic paint)) boomtank: -Blaster still feels a bit bad about his reaction though- Primus: *Not the worst thing he's had happen* Windchill: Who are these nerds? *He means the ones on screen, not you lot.* Starscream: (( *sigh* against my better judgement- Roddy was looking forward to showing Thirst IC as Rodimus, and was wondering if that ep could be skipped Councilor: ugh Councilor: there Starscream: ((Or idk if shed prefer it skipped or just no TFP at all, i didn't ask Whirl: ((sorry, internet died)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i am literally 30 seconds from starting man)) FakeProwl: ((she decided to bail)) Councilor: so many soundwave animations ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i will watch it again next monday if wanted but i gotta get goin)) Starscream: ((was just letting you know so you didn't get back to skype in a few hours and then see it Starscream: ((rodger that Councilor: *kicks back* Whirl: ((INTERNET. PLEASE)) Whirl: ((if i vanish for good, my internet died. Whirl tipped his chair too far back, despite warnings, and fell into another dimension)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[All right. We will begin. Please, do not run screaming into the outside world if you are frightened. There are tables for hiding under.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((lmao okay snif)) FakeProwl: So it's THAT kind of episode, is it. Whirl: You already showed the most frightening thing BEFORE the episode. Councilor: *Lazy boy footrest flies up with destructive force* boomtank: -does the Primus mind if Blaster sits beside him?- Txen: *tsks* Windchill: What an awful sound. Starscream: ((somehow i forgot about that fukkin accent save me Councilor: HA Airachnid: What an awful sight. [gestures to CYLAS] Primus: *Isn't really sitting anywhere. More like back over by the bar. Possibly sitting on it or at least on a bar stool* Councilor: I like the color green a lot less now Whirl: ((...test)) Windchill: Gross. Windchill: (( What u testing my dude. )) Councilor: oh my god its our lord and saviour Airachnid: there they go)) Whirl: ((to see if i was still yup, Rabbit is freakin out)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble comes slowly trudging downstairs and crawls on to the back of the couch behind Soundwave. He drapes himself against a shoulder and stays there.* FakeProwl: *nods to rumble* Airachnid: And he already has one Starscream. ItsyBitsySpyers: *The barest handflap hi.* Whirl: *tilts his head when he notices Rumble* Councilor: *silently hopes the minicon comes over to lay on her lap* Windchill: *Shakes his head.* Primus: *Looks over* ItsyBitsySpyers: *That one won't, but Laserbeak will perch on the new bot's helm* Buzzstrike: *watches fellow Mini-Con with a worried frown* boomtank: -okay, gonna sit nearby-ish then. This set looks to be a bit...no- Councilor: *sits completely still* Primus: [*guesswhostillhasntseenprime*] Shockbox: (( But. You're Primus.)) boomtank: ((-pats- Shockbox: (( Mind: Blown.)) Primus: [I know. I've never sat down to see it.] Whirl: Oh yeah, I've seen this stuff before. I wonder what would happen if we gave some to Frenzy. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I'M ALWAYS ON IT.\\ Airachnid: Yes, you are. Whirl: *laughs* boomtank: ...... Councilor: Daaaaaark energon Airachnid: [referring to Sarscream on screen] Councilor: there goes rule number one Councilor: don't bring dark energon Whirl: I wonder how *I* would handle it. Txen: Shockwave: *mutter* The only thing that is 'frightening' about this installment is their 'scientific' methodology and lack of safety procedures. Councilor: they're just talking ship gossip ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave huffs softly, amused. He overheard that.* Primus: *Vents* FakeProwl: How desperate is Starscream to think this is a good idea. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Very.]] Airachnid: Very. FakeProwl: Tsk. boomtank: They're...kinda...wow, no Councilor: ew Airachnid: [just thinking about this makes her cringe] Councilor: purple and green go AWFUL together boomtank: They actually did it Whirl: Y'know. I'm not necessarily known for my good ideas, but... ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave sits up straight and tries to keep calm. No twitching. No fluttering.* Airachnid: [so glad that this didn't happen in her universe] Councilor: horrible fashion sense Primus: And it broke free. Primus: *SIGH* Windchill: *Scratches his chin.* Bruin: Its also a terrible plan Windchill: Well. Txen: Shockwave: *excuse him? super soldiers aren't his area? what do they think he was doing for most of the war* Windchill: That was to be expected. Councilor: silas how many drugs have you eaten in your life agooddistraction: what'd i miss agooddistraction: w???? Councilor: OH Councilor: OH Whirl: Oh, hey. Councilor: EW Whirl: Neat! agooddistraction: wtf? Buzzstrike: *abrupt twitch of blade-wings* Windchill: I've seen prettier. Councilor: Oh god I didn't know this was a HORROR flick Airachnid: A prime example on why to not dabble in dark energon. Windchill: *He's used to faces like that by now.* Councilor: rather... insect like boomtank: ....-hiding face behind data-pad now- Councilor: *looks at windcill* Whirl: Yeah. If I bothered to give myself a mouth, I'd like something like that. Windchill: *Avoids Infinite's gaze on purpose.* Whirl: I've already got half the prongs for it. *gestures to his helm* Windchill: *Cackles* Whirl: ((PFFT) Windchill: (( This ep. <3 )) Primus: Poor Vehicons Buzzstrike: ...mhm Councilor: (( this episode is probably the funniest )) Bruin: High;y traained??? Pf Airachnid: That hardly looks like "problem solved". FakeProwl: He's going to tear through the Vehicons. agooddistraction: wow ItsyBitsySpyers: *Okay. Maybe a little twitch. This is not a favorite. And now he's thinking of where he was at the time.* FakeProwl: ... Like that. Councilor: I'm a highly trained critic Whirl: Anyway, thanks for the gift, mech. *to Windchill* I'll always take and all figures of Heqet. Whirl: Praise. boomtank: That....did not go well.... Whirl: Even squishy ones. Starscream: *FLOUNCES IN* Windchill: *Nods.* You're welcome. Primus: None of this will end well boomtank: It's UP! ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Dark energon never does.]] Airachnid: Of course it didn't. IT was a result of dark energon and bad ideas. Starscream: Oh. It's /this/ again. Councilor: oh wow this iS predator Councilor: that was definitely the predator noise Whirl: Oh, so it's kind of like a sparkeater. Whirl: Except it drains energon, instead of eating sparks. Primus: [*shrieks*] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\LIKE WEDNESDAYS! HAHA\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Yes. Though the spark is extinguished as well.]] Councilor: oh god a tongue on a body Windchill: ...Fascinating. Councilor: .... kinky Airachnid: Hey, human horror films are actually amusing. Windchill: *He can agree with that at least.* Whirl: *slowly swivels his helm to stare at Infinite* Councilor: TWO DIFFERENT types of bots Starscream: *will find himself a seat near the back to watch from. What even IS this nonsense.* agooddistraction: what was that boomtank: ((you okay Pri-mun? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[A Terrorcon.]] Councilor: *points at windchill* it was him Primus: [I'm laughing] Windchill: Who, me? Whirl: *slowly turns his helm to regard Windchill* I dunno what she's blaming you for but I believe her. Windchill: Oh, well. boomtank: ((oh good Windchill: Fair enough. Councilor: *sighs in relief* Primus: This is quite the nightmare Airachnid: [now if you'll excuse her, she's just going to go by Whirl] Whirl: He will nod to her as she joins the table* agooddistraction: is this really real Councilor: GA Y ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Now kiss~}} Windchill: I... Airachnid: [gives a chirp in greeting] ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Keheheh.}} Primus: *Laughs* Whirl: *so, whirl is sitting with Airachnid and Windchill--who else is at this table?* Windchill: *Pretends to swoon.* Councilor: AWKWARD GA Y Txen: Skylynx: Awwwkwardddd. Whirl: Ugh, Knock Out can do SO much better. boomtank: ...wow Whirl: Hell, even *I* could do better. And I'm ME. Starscream: *squints* FakeProwl: *wow. decepticon friendships are more awkward than prowl friendships. who knew.* Councilor: fUNnny Starscream: *Yup, that's MEgatron* Whirl: *he'll pause, look to Airachnid, and then imitate her chirp back at her* Windchill: Oh my god. Airachnid: [Decepticons are emotionally constipated mecha, of course it's going to be awkward] Windchill: *Sticks his tongue out at Soundwave.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *NOT LOOKING* Whirl: *reaches up....* Whirl: *grasps it in his pincer* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He notes that he was on board for this, but not as a Decepticon. Or with anyone else's knowledge. From what he understands, a Vehicon took his place.]] Councilor: LOL Windchill: *Immediately begins to wail like a siren.* Councilor: keeep it downnn ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YO! QUIET DOWN FRONT!\\ FakeProwl: ... A Vehicon took your place? *talented Vehicon* Councilor: some of us are watching historcal documentaries Whirl: *holds the tongue. Gently. But still holdin* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[There were a few who were passable in emergencies.]] Windchill: *Still wailing.* FakeProwl: Hm. agooddistraction: I can't believed I fragged that Councilor: whIRL ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Not near his level. But passable.]] Starscream: *snorts* Perhaps with a welder and an industrial accident. Primus: *Clears his vocals* Windchill: *Swats at Whirl, let him go so he can talk properly!* FakeProwl: *ugh. bugs.* Windchill: *If he talks like this it might disturb people.* Airachnid: [chirps at screen] Whirl: *IS SWATTED* Councilor: bara Whirl: ...*lets the tongue go* Airachnid: [happy to see something familiar] Starscream: Are those... throat appendages? Standard? Councilor: *points* Councilor: It you Windchill: *Sucks it back into his head and shuts up, finally.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEP.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\UH, FOR OUR PLANET.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\DUNNO 'BOUT NOBODY ELSE.\\ agooddistraction: primus Airachnid: Not in mine. Primus: Well.. Whirl: Oh. Tough break for your alternate, mech. *looks to Airachnid* Airachnid: Oh. It's my alternate. Councilor: spider karate Starscream: *not... sure how he feels about that* Whirl: Nice moves, though. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\'N YOU CAN CALL IT A MLAH. 'S AN ONNER... ONNAMO...\\ Airachnid: It was her fault for being captured in the first place. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Onomatopoeia.// ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH.\\ Starscream: Huh. Strange adaptation. *Snorts* 'Mlah'? agooddistraction: what the frag Txen: *has his thoughts about them being 'standard'. not going to talk about them here unless he has to* Councilor: ohhh... Windchill: Finally. Whirl: *SNRKS* Starscream: ...there was a human inside of it. Councilor: one of like Whirl: ((airachnid omg)) Starscream: Please tell me THAT isn't standard. Councilor: the most serious moments from this show FakeProwl: He's a unique model, thankfully. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Negative. The human stole a dead Cybertronian.]] boomtank: ... Starscream: (('Dang. Going to need the big mop and the bug zapper.')) Councilor: daaaAHHH ItsyBitsySpyers: [[*This* was him.]] Windchill: *Frowns.* Airachnid: The human thought they could be a Cybertronian. It's cute but sad. Airachnid: But mostly sad. FakeProwl: *ugh, the noise of them* Councilor: love this part Windchill: *He senses this isn't going to go well.* Starscream: Extremely sad. Txen: *that vow did not amount to much* Whirl: HA! Starscream: !!! ItsyBitsySpyers: [[And he did not send her to the moon.]] Primus: ..... FakeProwl: *snorts* Starscream: *gonna look at Sounwave* Whirl: Nicely done, Chatterbox. FakeProwl: Where DID you send her? Airachnid: I certainly wasn't. Windchill: What. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[The smelter, of course.]] Bruin: Impressive portalling FakeProwl: Practical. Airachnid: [laughs at her alternate's misfortunes] Primus: *Yeah.... Doesn't like seeing his shell* Councilor: now you're thinking with portals Airachnid: [both on screen and the one from Soundwave's universe] Windchill: He could have sent Airachnid alone. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Records the laugh. It is a good laugh.* Councilor: he just ItsyBitsySpyers: *Is also carefully avoiding Starscream's glance... for the moment.* Councilor: he just likes kicking his aft Starscream: *glares at the screen. He still needs to put a bullet through Megatron* Windchill: WHAT. Whirl: Damn. agooddistraction: that's kinda hot Primus: *Covers his face* Windchill: *Folds his arms.* Starscream: .. Primus: *Nope. Shell. Nope* Starscream: *now looks at Airachnid* Starscream: So. Is THAT standard? Windchill: *Offended.* Airachnid: No. Not in my universe. Buzzstrike: That's... disturbing. Councilor: One is enough eps for me boomtank: ...you okay? Airachnid: And I would never do that to my Insecticons. Councilor: Councilor out boomtank: -to Primus- Windchill: Bye, sucker. Whirl: *nods to Infinite; he has no idea who she is, but she seems to no Windchill* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Farewell. Perhaps they will be more to your handling ability next time.]] Primus: No... I'm not... That was Cybertron. Councilor: *blows kiss* Whirl: *And Windchill is good people* Windchill: *Windchill is bad people don't lie.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Will let Blaster handle Primus for now.* Whirl: *compared to Whirl you're good people* Starscream: ((Starscream be like COULD WE NOT)) boomtank: Yes. It was. Windchill: *Okay, I'll accept this...for now.* Primus: *His field would be quite uncomfortable to be around* Txen: *antennae perk* Whirl: Camera. I could use. Less of the extreme close-ups of Megatron's ass. Windchill: Aw. Windchill: Look at them. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave nudges Shockwave's knee. He likes your work, you know.* Airachnid: Likewise. Buzzstrike: *shudders at the tubes* boomtank: -well, he's gonna tough it out, so...fun- Starscream: *siiiiighs. These are the worst people to be watching* agooddistraction: hey butterball FakeProwl: *it's almost impressive, how Megatron continues to get worse.* Txen: *likes it, too. misses the days when he had more than three cobbled-together vats* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SOMETHIN' WRONG, SCREAMER? UH. STARSCREAM? LORD SCREAM? WHAT IS IT?\\ Whirl: Oh, hey. *gestures to the screen and looks to the Peds* Is this you guys? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scratches his helm together* ItsyBitsySpyers: *...I don't know why I wrote together. Just go with it.* boomtank: Hey, hey, you're okay Windchill: *Snorts.* Primus: [THATEXPRESISON] Whirl: *SNRK* Starscream: *points at the screen* /Guess/. Starscream: ..by the way, which one ARE you, anyway? Whirl: *drapes a hand over his cockpit* What a sweet-talker. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy jerks a thumb toward his chest.* \\FRENZY.\\ Primus: *Shifts and pulls his field in tight* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[And do not fret so. Here, your alternate leads.]] Txen: Darksteel: *wriggling excitedly* What, you couldnt tell? It was the one that looked like ME. Whirl: Kinda hard to see all of you in those tubes. FakeProwl: ... He's in charge?? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Of the Decepticons only.]] boomtank: -going to stretch his own field out to offer comfort- FakeProwl: *grimaces. could be worse.* Shockbox: (( But-- didn't shockwave use predacons before at some point during the war?)) Shockbox: (( Continuity error? )) Txen: ((yes lol shhh writing bad dragons good)) Starscream: ((shhhhh Starscream: ((dont look too closely FakeProwl: ((not long enough to see them transform apparently)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((He sent them off to Earth, don't forget.)) FakeProwl: (("earlier in the war, I used the Predacons. ... For two weeks.")) Shockbox: (( But the flashback showed that he was there with them.)) Txen: ((yeah they might have never gotten 'woke')) Starscream: ((Does this mean he's like 'Wait wait what they transform??? And I didn't get to test this first?!")) FakeProwl: ((like a mom dropping them off at school. 0v0)) Starscream: ((...though i think we decided there's no way HE didn't know they could transform FakeProwl: ((he dropped them off and then went off to work)) Txen: ((there are theories shockwave suspected but is just bsing megs there lol)) Airachnid: you think they would scan for something like a t-cog)) Whirl: *loud, exaggerated groaning noises the moment Ultra Magnus shows up* Whirl: Windchill, put me out of my misery. Shockbox: (( I accept the bs'ing headcanon.)) Primus: *Rubs his optics* Windchill: *Mimics Whirl.* Starscream: ((yeah he built them, he should know if they have a T-cog. clearly )) Starscream: Frenzy. That won't be hard to remember. Windchill: *Snorts.* agooddistraction: wow he's the same everywhere FakeProwl: ((since they're so ancient, maybe they didn't have t-cogs. maybe they transform via some other mechanism.)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy points at the tired blue lump with his face buried against the thin side of Soundwave's shoulder. That's his brother.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Then points around the room at all the others in turn.* Txen: ((yeah ive dabbled in headcanons that their spark and stuff is somewhat different)) Windchill: *That's such a dumb name.* Windchill: *Frowns again.* Airachnid: [she would say the same, but he's in the room] Whirl: Ugh. "Master." ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He should also note that none of this tape happened. Megatron was destroyed.]] Windchill: *There's plotting afoot and he doesn't like it.* Whirl: No offense, big guy, but you used to be a chump. FakeProwl: Oh? He's dead by this point? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Yes.]] FakeProwl: Good. Starscream: /Good/. Windchill: *Squints.* Txen: Predaking: *snorts* I was newly-aware and naive to the -deceptive- nature of your kind. Airachnid: For once, Starscream has a good plan. Starscream: ((also: good. Starscream u work it)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Any answers he can give from here are only what he has learned. Shockwave may know more, regarding some things.]] Whirl: Not MY kind. I'm neither a 'Con NOR from than dimension. I'm an honest mech. Txen: ((ARE U WHIRL)) Windchill: *Snorts.* Whirl: I never pretend to be a GOOD one, but I AM an honest one. Starscream: *Starscream keeps track of the mechs introduced. Maybe they'll be useful* Whirl: ((HE ISN'T HE'S JUST Bad)) Whirl: ((but he's .... forthright 80% of the time)) Txen: Predaking: *eyes Whirl carefully for a moment before giving a tiny nod. if you have to be crude, the least you can be is honest about it* Whirl: *he is the crudest. and the rudest* Whirl: *and the 'tudist* Windchill: *Is just. Tensing his jaw.* Txen: *shockwave begins to eminate a faint aura of pure salt* Primus: *Vents slowly* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Feels that aura. Presses knee against harder. He agrees with the salt.* Windchill: *If he squints any harder his optics will implode.* Whirl: *looks to Windchill* You constipated or something? Txen: *such a brief time to revisit his lab as it should have been... curse starscream and his meddling* Windchill: Hush, I'm getting angry. FakeProwl: ((I love those rare moments when Starscream is confident in his absolute shittiness.)) Whirl: At what? Txen: ((yeah it is a good moment. even if he make me boi sad)) Starscream: ((ikr? boomtank: -fluffs and attempts to provide some comfort to the avatar- ItsyBitsySpyers: @Predaking: [[Your protectiveness does you credit.]] Windchill: *Shakes his head.* Starscream: *snorts.* That was /painfully/ easy as far as manipulation goes. Whirl: Wow, what a smart idea, waiting for them to WAKE UP. Primus: *Don't mind him not paying attention at all* Whirl: *waves a claw at the screen disgustedly* Shoulda started snuffing them earlier. Airachnid: Well, they had to talk first apparently. Starscream: Agreed. Windchill: *Rubs his face. Nope.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Tiny helm shake on Soundwave's part.* boomtank: -oh, he won't, all good here- FakeProwl: *... small sigh* Whirl: *there's not a trace of remorse or pity in Whirl's expression or his field* ItsyBitsySpyers: *A waste of life. He is glad they were protected here.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OH FRAG YEAH, I LOVE THIS PART.\\ Airachnid: [likewise] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave sends Prowl a curious ping. Why sigh?* Txen: Predaking: @Shockwave I deserve no credit. I was fooled, and my bretheren suffered for it. Airachnid: [she doesn't exactly having them around] Windchill: That's just wrong. Txen: ((oops soundwave)) Txen: ((not shockwave bgbghgbh)) Whirl: What is, exactly? agooddistraction: umm Starscream: ((just talk in that general direction, someone will hear you ItsyBitsySpyers: ((LOL)) Airachnid: doesn't like god I can't type tonight)) Primus: [Sounds seems off] Airachnid: [she does enjoy the fight though] Txen: ((its ok for me)) Whirl: ((me too!)) FakeProwl: @Soundwave «The deaths are unfortunate. They were, at that point, innocents.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Admittedly, innocents that were a few hours away from becoming absolute hell for the Autobots. But it still isn't pleasant to watch.» Windchill: *He's not going to say anything more, actually.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Predaking: [[You did not know. You would not have saved them trying, or not trying. That you did try is what credits you.]] Windchill: (( Brb. )) Txen: Shockwave: *still salty. a little proud of his dragon son though. shh dont tell* Primus: *And this is why he doesn't watch "archived" collections of the past* Whirl: *watches Windchill's face, but seeing as he gets no response, shrugs and falls silent* agooddistraction: scrap ItsyBitsySpyers: *Small nod at Prowl. He is glad you see that, at least.* agooddistraction: what Whirl: *isn't going to pretend he wouldn't do the same to his enemies* Airachnid: Now that's just rude. Txen: ((LITERALLY OUT OF NOWHERE)) Txen: ((i hate s3 optimus)) Airachnid: same)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\GOT THE SCRAP KICKED OUTTA YA, HUH JACKO?\\ Txen: ((hes just an 'autobots win' button)) boomtank: -all good, don't worry, it's fine- Airachnid: pretty much)) Whirl: ((ye for real 8/ )) Primus: *Nope* Starscream: ((just focus on his disproportionally tiny head)) Airachnid: He's not very /handy/ anymore now is he? boomtank: -just don't think to much about it all- ItsyBitsySpyers: ((FRICK i meant to warn whirl ic)) Whirl: ((whop)) Starscream: ...oh, looks like that cave-in packed quite a punch. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((well, i can salvage it a lil bit)) Whirl: *if he was also uncomfortable, he hid it well* Primus: *Now he remembers why he doesn't come to these* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Whirl: [[Do you require distraction?]] Txen: Predaking: *doesnt have a response for Soundwave; just rumbles discontentedly in his chest.* Starscream: Good thing the rest of the Autobots were there to lend him a hand. Starscream: ((WHIRL IM SORRY Starscream was literally founded on hand/arm puns) Airachnid: [cackles] Whirl: Nice moves, Big Guy. *that is Predaking;s nickname* Can't say I wouldn't have tried to snuff the lot of you, if it'd been me, but still. A good fight. Windchill: * Sorry Whirl, he's already wrapped this one up and labeled it "to be dealt with later." This isn't the place.* Whirl: *starts and looks to Soundwave, tilting his head slightly; he's taken aback* ... @Soundwave: I'm fine. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Confirmation ping. Very well.* agooddistraction: does every timeline have fraggery with synth en? FakeProwl: *... so not only do they have, essentially, bombs that spontaneously make stuff.* Whirl: *nods; he's grateful for that* FakeProwl: *but they didn't even do it on purpose. they discovered it by accident.* Whirl: *and you can talk to him about it later, Windchill; like Whirl said earlier, he never said he was a good person. Just an honest one* FakeProwl: *this universe. prowl swears.* Txen: Predaking: *hmphs in acknowledgement. now isnt a time to feel pleased with himself* boomtank: -reaching over to pat Primus on the nearest part he can- Hey. How are you holding up? Whirl: *...and even that's only partially true* Starscream: ...what sort of bomb was that? Windchill: (( Omg. It was looking shitty so I changed it to HD and that's when everything inverted for a second. I was not fast enough to screencap.)) Whirl: Ohh, beat him up, Shockwave! agooddistraction: oh scrap Whirl: *clicks his claws eagerly* Windchill: *Rests his elbows on the table, so uncouth.* agooddistraction: glitch fight FakeProwl: ((megstron's frickin "I'm thinking" tho)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It was a mere grenade.]] Airachnid: Impale him. Do it. Bruin: *snickering* Starscream: Then what caused all of that? Windchill: *Has mixed feelings about this.* Txen: Shockwave: I should not have stopped. *taps claw on knee* Starscream: *ugh. Megatron* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Perhaps you should ask him.]] Primus: *Vents* This was a poor decision choice. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Motions to his purple seatmate* Starscream: */ugh. Shockwave/* agooddistraction: You can impale my optic on somethin' sharp anyway, Daddy Whirl: *whirl's never gonna admit it, ever ever EVER, TO ANYONE, but Shockwave is kind of attractive when he's being menacing* Primus: *NOPE* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave would agree, if he heard it.* Txen: ((hah)) Whirl: *No One Must Know* Windchill: *Don't be silly, Shockwave is attractive all the time.* Windchill: *...Depending on your type/* boomtank: -pats a bit more- Heeey, hey no, it's okay, only a recording ItsyBitsySpyers: *Are you sure? Because he has some delightful footage of Shockwave beating up Wheeljack...* Primus: *At this point his thoughts are pretty damn loud* Whirl: *don't u DARE* Starscream: *Starscream prefers partners with depth perception.* Airachnid: [type is very important, and he is not Airachnid's type at all] Txen: Shockwave: *didnt do it to be attractive, anyway* Primus: *Looks at Blaster* This /happened/ Blaster Whirl: *we all know your type Airachnid* Whirl: *and THERE HE IS* boomtank: Yes, it did Airachnid: [YOU SHUSH YOUR NONEXISTENT MOUTH] Whirl: * O) * Windchill: *Raises eyebrow* boomtank: But you're still here, despite it Whirl: ((ok brb guys)) Primus: Barely Primus: That is not my shell agooddistraction: ouch FakeProwl: *dutiful assistant that he is, pings what he knows about the material to Starscream. That basically amounts to the name "cybermatter" and the fact, it involves blowing up synthetic energon, and it makes stuff. For the rest, yes, he'll have to ask Shockwave.* Windchill: ((It get quieter every episode what are you doing rabbit.)) Airachnid: Smokescreen, I see he's still a bumbling fool. FakeProwl: *... and a video of the Nemesis blowing up and instantly reforming.* Txen: ((i just keep turning up the volume lol)) Starscream: *...don't they have synthetic energon of their own? Has anyone tried blowing it up yet? The inquiry is pinged back.* boomtank: Barely still means you are FakeProwl: *to prowl's knowledge, nobody has blown it up yet.* boomtank: You can still pull yourself up FakeProwl: *......... adds--very reluctantly--that Shockwave has demonstrated a willingness to trade the recipe for cybermatter.* FakeProwl: *adds much more emphatically that he does not recommend agreeing to Shockwave's terms. but. it IS an option.* Primus: No, Blaster. My shell is dead... Literally broken Txen: (( OwO whats dis )) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slow pull in of his armor.* boomtank: ...oh Starscream: *raises an eyebrow and- very non conspiritorily at all this is as obvious as this abomintation of Optimus- points at the mech next to Soundwave. This Shockwave?* Windchill: Not this fool plan again. FakeProwl: *affirmative ping* boomtank: No way to repair it at all? Primus: The one we're on now is alive... fortunately, due to other events. FakeProwl: ((had to make up for Prowl bailing on the bargain. o/)) Primus: No, Blaster. There is no repairing. Starscream: *Huh. A request for Shockwave's terms. He doesn't have to agree to them to review them* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Primus: [[Why is there no repairing?]] Yes. He's been listening. Txen: *brushes a bit of Soundwave with the back of one digit* ItsyBitsySpyers: *They repaired theirs, didn't they?* Txen: ((thank you, i was going to ask soundy to hook him up with stars digits but this works too)) boomtank: You're sure? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Quiet vent. Thank you, Shockwave.* Primus: ... *Does Soundwave really wish to know?* Primus: I'm sure, Blaster. FakeProwl: *for a sample of the substance? innermost energon from... Prowl forgets if it's 3 or 4 outliers, or sufficiently strange mechs.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Yes.* boomtank: But...why? ItsyBitsySpyers: {{PEH! Dumb Prime.}} agooddistraction: *throws a candy wrapper at Shockwave's arm* Whirl: ((and back)) ItsyBitsySpyers: {{It good thing Bird never punched.}} Primus: What planet can support life if there is no life? Whirl: Oh, damn. ...HELL. agooddistraction: uh oh Whirl: Tough luck for YOUR alternate, Soundwave. Windchill: .... Windchill: *Winces.* Txen: *catches it, and stares at jackie for a full second before letting it fall into the trash can nearby* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Mm.]] Bruin: *cringing* yikes FakeProwl: *for the recipe itself, lab time with the Engima of Combination. Prowl STRONGLY recommends talking him into lab time with a different artifact.* boomtank: .....oh agooddistraction: *sticks out glosssa* Starscream: *Well that's not so- oh. Yeah, no, that is indeed a sticking point.* Airachnid: Way to vocalize that Autobots. Primus: *Sends Soundwave an image of what Cybertron "currently" looks like* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Lifts chin. He will meet this tape head on.* FakeProwl: *... hm. is soundwave bothered by watching his alternate in prison? glances at him.* Windchill: *Snickers.* Whirl: ...pfft. Primus: [Soundwaveplz] Whirl: *SNRKS* Starscream: *snrkj* Bruin: PFFF Windchill: *He feels a little better now.* FakeProwl: *... not sure. offers soundwave's hand a light knuckle brush anyway, just in case.* Txen: *the past is the past. alternates are alternates. this is but imagery upon a screen. it will pass* Shockbox: /Finds this Soundwave's sass to be amusing. Airachnid: [claps hand servos together] FakeProwl: *winces. RUDE, Ratchet* Airachnid: [she would like to see that] ItsyBitsySpyers: *It is not the imagery which worries him. But he will take both knuckle brushes.* agooddistraction: ??????? Whirl: *tilts head* Whirl: *well, whaddya know* Primus: [wAT] Shockbox: /Taps "chin" thoughtfully. FakeProwl: *that wasn't the voice Prowl expected, but okay.* Airachnid: Well then. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh so damn calmly sends Primus a thank you for the information.* Whirl: Gotta say, trashing your own brain so your enemies can't have it is the ultimate fuck-you. Whirl: Nice. Windchill: (( Whirl u infected me with your poopy internet. )) Whirl: ((OH NO)) Windchill: *Nods.* agooddistraction: Why d'ya think I drink so much? FakeProwl: *did other-Soundwave survive the experience? breaking a vow of silence sounds a lot like a "I'm about to die" gesture* Primus: *Dims his optics. Sends a... cautionary return nudge. Once he's feeling not like slag, talk?* FakeProwl: *will wait and see* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It helps to have excellent knowledge of one's own systems.]] Whirl: And telepathic abilities, I'd wager. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...Yes. That too.]] Whirl: Ohh, is this a grand rescue? Is Laserbeak gonna save the day? Bruin: Thats a spectacularly effective strategy Txen: ((see soundy that wasnt quite so bad!)) Txen: ((also wow megs what the fuck was that gesturing)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Yes, once Primus is more capable of talking, a talk.* Txen: ((who animated that)) Whirl: *that. Is legitimately precious)) Windchill: I get the impression that ol' Megatron doesn't much enjoy being the short one. Primus: [I love the animation team.] Whirl: ((yeah he turned into a character from Foodfight! for a moment* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HA!\\ FakeProwl: ((megatron's furious posturing over the fact that predaking might dare be stronger than him gives me life. spiteful spiteful life.)) Airachnid: Of course he doesn't. Windchill: Good. Whirl: I mean, I can sympatize. Txen: Predaking: *draws self to full seated height* Windchill: Screw that guy. Starscream: ((such a giant petty warlord Windchill: *Not in that way you pervs.* Whirl: I get really annoyed when I meet mecha taller than ME. *slowly swivels his helm to stare at Windchill* boomtank: -Blaster is attempting to help calm him down- Starscream: ((at least TFP MEgatron is consistantly written as a petty wall of metal)) Windchill: *Puts on his most innocent face and bats his lashes at Whirl in return.* Windchill: I don't know what you mean. Primus: *He isn't "upset." Just... currently kind of out of it* Whirl: *SNRKS HE CAN'T KEEP A STRAIGHT "FACE" WHEN WINDCHILL DOES THAT* Whirl: But you get used to it. Airachnid: [can't help but smile, he's so cute when Ratchet does that] Windchill: You sure do. Whirl: *gestures to anyone else in the room who might happen to be taller than him--Predaking is one definite, but the others are a maybe* Windchill: I meet people taller than myself and I don't complain. Windchill: You're just whiny. boomtank: -Well, still trying to help him- Whirl: Hey, I never complained. I just admitted to being annoyed. Whirl: I can't help it. It's like... *waves a claw* Involuntary. It's annoying. Buzzstrike: *will never be accused of being tall* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\BOY, ALL YA MECHS TALKIN' 'BOUT, BOOHOO, I AIN'T THE TALLEST IN THE ROOM. 'BLIVIOUS MUCH?\\ Whirl: Oh. Hell of a shot. Windchill: You gripe about it all the time. agooddistraction: Hahahahha Starscream: ..if you stack enough minibots on top of one another, they're technically the tallest... Whirl: ...*draws self up* ExCUSE all of you, I never talk about it at all! Whirl: (9BUTTERRS__ Starscream: ((WHIRLS KINK Starscream: ((I JUST REMEMBERED FakeProwl: *looks at starscream.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\FLATTERIN' ME 'N MY BROTHER AIN'T GONNA GET YOU NO COMBININ'. HE'S TIRED.\\ Windchill: Oh, no you're right, my bad. Airachnid: I look at my commanding officer's pelvic plating all day, I've learned to not complain too much. FakeProwl: *it's true. leave decepticons alone long enough and eventually they start standing on each other.* Starscream: *is sort of staring off into space* Windchill: It's being at eye level with my butt that you gripe about all the time. Txen: ((thanks SWERVE)) Whirl: *NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE HIM he's gonna admire Predaking's flying* Windchill: Hmph. *Turns up his noseless face, pretending to be put out.* Whirl: *well that was short-lived* Whirl: *OR NOT* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave takes a small, secret moment to admire Predaking's maw.* Windchill: *Mandibles are a good and wholesome thing.* Whirl: *they are Cool* ItsyBitsySpyers: *As are teeth like his and splitting jaws.* Txen: Predaking: *doesnt blame them. he is the pinnacle of his species after all* Whirl: Anyway. As I was saying. It shows remarkable restraint on my part by not giving in to my instincts and incessantly complaining, all the time, about other mecha being bigger than me. You should THANK me. Windchill: Sure, sure. Whirl: Ha! ItsyBitsySpyers: *Bird's glad she didn't get punched, but she wishes she could've had a moment like this* Whirl: Look, there she is! FakeProwl: *impressive aim* Windchill: *Steeples his fingers.* Airachnid: [is lowkey rooting for her] Windchill: (( Laserbeak: officially one of the few people on this show who can legitimately aim. )) Whirl: Well, damn. Primus: [And Soundwave being creepy FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Do you typically keep backups of your memories with your deployers?» ItsyBitsySpyers: [[We will leave it here for the night. You will find out what happened to Ratchet's alternates next time.]] Starscream: He dies. Whirl: Fair enough. *streetches* Airachnid: ...[she does not like this cliffhanger] Windchill: I'm good with this. agooddistraction: *throws two more candy wrappers* boomtank: ...oh, it's over? agooddistraction: Fuckeye boomtank: -wasn't paying attention- boomtank: -at all- Txen: ((next episode has a good magnus vs shocky fite i cant wait)) Whirl: ((o boy 😎 )) Primus: *Good* FakeProwl: ((ahhh yes, it is a good fight)) ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): All deployers contain assorted memories. Soundwave contains many deployer memories. Other backups utilized. Windchill: (( YE I couldn't remember what ep it was. )) Buzzstrike: Thank you Txen: Shockwave: *does not answer to things that are not his designation* Whirl: Anyway, if you wanna talk about whatever peeved you, we can go talk about that. *nudges Windchill* agooddistraction: Uughhh Buzzstrike: *gives a worried look to the traumatized-looking stranger* Primus: *Rubs his face* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[You are all welcome to take what you need of the fuel on the counter.]] boomtank: It's over now, see? Primus: Hnnn Windchill: Hmm, I dunno. boomtank: -does he need a hug?- FakeProwl: *nods. good to know.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave reaches a feeler back and gently pats Rumble. Thank you for coming down here.* Windchill: Seems to me that this is an attempt on your part to distract me from the fact that you were gonna kick my butt. Whirl: Oh! And you. YU. *turns dramatically, swinging his claw at Predaking* We need to set up a time and place. Windchill: *Wrong, it's the opposite.* Whirl: *looks to Windchill* I'm fight-cheating on you. Primus: *No. He may just go upstairs if Soundwave permits to be away from everyone* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Information share purpose: medical emergency. Not public record. ItsyBitsySpyers: *If he asks, Soundwave will let him.* agooddistraction: *lighting up* Primus: *Sends a tired request to do just that* Bruin: *oh yes free food, Specter's gonna scamper on over and just shove his head into a plate* Buzzstrike: *needs to go, gives a slight bow to the other attendees* Windchill: I know, cheater. Windchill: *He's been aware of this for a while, THANKS* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Farewell.]] *To Buzzstrike* Whirl: Don't worry, I'll still get to you. Soonish. Txen: Predaking: *toothy smirk* As I said, Autobot-- any time, any where. My planet of residence is currently in the midst of an acid monsoon; some manner of neutral territory seems the most appealing option. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave uses the feeler to motion to Primus. He is allowed to phase through the sealed door to the second floor.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Understood. That's why I asked.» Windchill: Acceptable. Whirl: *clunks his claw comfortingly against whichever part of Windchill is easiest to reach* Windchill: *I can only promise that it's not his butt.* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Although I suppose if we get as far down as me on your emergency contact list, that will mean your deployers can't be contacted anyway. Still, I'll keep it in mind.» Primus: *Nods to Soundwave and goes to just that. Gives Blaster a small pat* Whirl: All right! My world's mostly a wasteland, but if that doesn't work out for some reason, I'll ask around. SOMEONE'S gotta have some free space for us to fight. Primus: *Pauses by the door and glances behind him at Prowl* . . . Whirl: *shockingly, the powers that be might have a problem with a rampaging Predacon dragon in their countryside* agooddistraction: *rolls a handful of candy at Shockwave's leg* Txen: *shockwave steps upon it, crushing it* Whirl: *this time. But next time, who knows? Whirl might DO IT* Windchill: *Watches the room out of the corner of his optic, gleefully anticipating Primus' exit.* Whirl: ((OJ DAMN SHOCKWAVE)) Txen: *shockwave doesnt even look over when he does it* FakeProwl: *isn't paying attention to the door. if primus wants to say something to prowl, he'll have to do more than look at him to get his attention* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Still useful if data accessible. FakeProwl: *small nod* agooddistraction: 😢 ItsyBitsySpyers: *Is slightly amused by Shockwave's responses to Wheeljack's antics. Pings him to let him know this.* agooddistraction: 😢 😢 😢 😢 😢 Primus: *Have a bucket of water on your helm, Windchill. Sends a short ping to Prowl* Starscream: It was enlightening. *Gonna call himself a Shockwave. MAybe. If he can get past it being SHOCKWAVE* Windchill: *I don't know what you mean.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\QUIT THAT CRYIN'. KNOCK OUT'S THE CROC, NOT YOU.\\ FakeProwl: *ping? looks around for—ah. there. pings back?* FakeProwl: ((croc out)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Perhaps you will see fit to join us for the final two weeks, Starscream.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It has information you should see.]] Starscream: We'll see if my schedule permits it. Whirl: Ugh, why you gotta encourage it, Soundwave? Whirl: I'm gonna hafta SPRAY for Starscreams if you keep this up. boomtank: Ah. G'night, then. -because it seems that's where Primus is going- ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Because these are educational documentaries. All who wish to learn and will not abuse the knowledge may attend.]] FakeProwl: ... If your schedule doesn't, I can forward the footage. *if Soundwave thinks Starscream needs to see it...* Starscream: ..*what defines abuse* Primus: *How about it upside down because he's not in a mood to be nice. Now you can't see him. @Prowl, contact when in better mood?* Whirl: *stands up, walks over to Starscream, and the POSES LIKE WILL SMITH, gesturing to all of him* Windchill: *Raises hand. He doesn't remember that disclosure.* Whirl: THIS GUY. THIS guy, you're trusting not to ABUSE information. Windchill: *He's an abuser of information.* agooddistraction: *on floor with candy and a cygar* Windchill: *And memes.* FakeProwl: *is primus asking prowl to contact him? ... okay?? sure. he can do that.* Airachnid: [she's going to sneak off now, she has somethings to think about because of a certain god that was once in this room] Starscream: Now Whirl, can't we all get along in this neutral space? Whirl: I absolutely cannot, and how dare you insinuate that I CAN. That's slander. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[You will or you will be phased into the wall.]] Whirl: *he will look over and bob his head at Airachnid as she leaves* Airachnid: [gives a wave before slipping away] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nods to Airachnid.* Whirl: And now my host is threatening to turn me into a WALL ORNAMENT. Innocent ole me! Txen: *is there a return ping that indicates a shockwavey sort of dry, mildly fond acknowledgement?* ItsyBitsySpyers: *There is now. He'll take that.* Whirl: Also, seriously, I'd be a horrible wall ornament. Typically you want those to be aesthetically PLEASING. Starscream: You'll make for a horrible arrangement, I'm sure. Primus: *@Prowl, he meant vice versa, but, yes. Turns and phases through the door to the upper level* Starscream: *just gonna scoot past Whirl bye lol* Whirl: I'm not even gonna argue that. Windchill: Oh please. *Turns enough to regard Whirl and his antics.* Windchill: I'd stare at you all day. Whirl: You have horrible taste. Whirl: *there he go... Starscream free as bird* boomtank: -And there Primus goes- ItsyBitsySpyers: *Also, the disclosure was made before the documentaries began. Discovery of dark energon use means Soundwave gets to deal with you. It won't be pleasant. Don't snort space cocaine.* Windchill: *Winks. You know it.* Txen: ((....i bet the predacons dont even know star's an alternate of THEIR star.. they're bebs they dunno)) Whirl: *makes an exaggerated noise of disgust& Whirl: Either way, it'd be terrible for business. Starscream: ((And Starscream doesn't look anything at all like that one. Windchill: *Don't pretend you don't like it.* Txen: ((precisely! they dont have any reason to know haha)) Starscream: ((NOT YET) Whirl: *in some small corner of his spark Whril appreciates it* Windchill: *Acceptable.* Whirl: Soundwave. Whirl: You have to. Whirl: *points at the screen* Txen: ((probably for the best.... they murdered our native one)) Whirl: Shockwave Tribute. He's your GUY. Whirl: You gotta. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He has seen that one. It is not good. But if Shockwave has a request, he will honor it.]] Windchill: *Is a little distracted by the belly on screen.* Whirl: Foreigner is also acceptable. Windchill: *He's jealous.* Whirl: *DROPS INTO A AIUR GUITAR STANCE ON THE FIRST POWER CHORD* Windchill: *He should have expected this.* Whirl: *and he's gonna start singing at the second "ONE GUITAR"* Whirl: *you're getting serenaded, Chill, you did this to yourself* Txen: *looks at whirl, then soundwave, then the ceiling, thinking. does not want to see a subpar tribute* FakeProwl: *ahhh... good music.* Windchill: *Shakes his head, but fondly.* Whirl: *duing the break* Okay, You've gotta be my backup, here. Whirl: Backup vocals. *points* Windchill: Who? Windchill: Me? Whirl: YOU. Whirl: *and he launches back into it* Windchill: I don't know this one. Windchill: But okay. Windchill: *SCREAMS ALONG.* Windchill: *Ruined* Whirl: *100% Ruined* Whirl: *whirl does not mind* Windchill: *He thought as much.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave cringes ever so slightly.* boomtank: -owowowowww, okay, that's his cue to leave now- Txen: *finishes thinking and pings soundwave a link to Black Mambo by glass animals* Windchill: *Just be grateful he has chosen to remain seated, okay.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Pings Blaster a farewell.* Whirl: *at least his contributions are pleasant enough* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nods. Will play the one he has queued next, then that.* boomtank: -waves back, g'night- Whirl: *returns to his seat as if he didn't just belt out an 80s rock song in front of a whole bar* Windchill: *Slowly, sneakily, snakes his arm in Whirl's direction.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave nods to both Shockwave and Prowl.* [[One moment.]] Whirl: *looks at the arm with his BIG OLE EYE* Windchill: *Prepare for either a fight or bodily contact.* Shockbox: (( Hey, goodnight you guys.)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *He can feel Rumble's vents slowing. His deployer is falling asleep. So he picks Rumble up in his feelers, carries him over to the door, unseals it, and moves Rumble all the way upstairs and to his room. It'll take him a minute.* Whirl: ((gnight!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((night shockbox!)) Windchill: *Drapes his humongous orangutan arm over your shoulders, Whirl.* Windchill: (( 'Night! )) Whirl: *allows* Windchill: *Now they're even for all that foot resting.* FakeProwl: *will wait* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Withdraws his feelers, closes the door, and takes his seat again. Will arrange himself so he's sort of got a shoulder on one ally and a knee against the other.* Smokescreen: Okay frag I did miss it didn't I ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Greetings, Smokescreen. You're a bit late.]] Txen: ((how is this still a 'secret' tbh)) Smokescreen: how does this keep happening Txen: ((OH NO SMOKEY lmao)) Windchill: Next time, *He lifts a claw.* Next time, I'll do the Nicki squat, just for you. Whirl: ((omg SM-SMOKEY...)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((people are spectacularly unobservant and/or haven't cared and soundwave will bend rules where he can lol)) Starscream: ((Thanks for the stream, dude- omg SMOKEY Windchill: *Is that a threat or a promise? YOU DECIDE.* Smokescreen: ... Well, what'd I miss? What embarrassing stuff did I do this week Whirl: I don't even know what that is, but I'm a little afraid. Windchill: (( OH NO. )) Txen: Very little, surprisingly. Robustus: ((peeks in out of curiousity)) Windchill: You should be, pal. FakeProwl: *accepts the shoulder-or-knee* Smokescreen: ((asdfgbn i was at work extra late and was on the phone for a while ;;)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Have you considered checking your chronometer?]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i'm sorry ;; there's always next week)) Windchill: *Looks up at the annoying sound that is Smokescreen's voice.* Smokescreen: I lost track of time! Happens to the best of us, right? Whirl: *glances over veeeery very, INCREDIBLY SUBTLY in that direction the moment the word "chronometer" is utered* Windchill: Sure. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((Also, hi Robustus - you missed it this week but it usually starts in the 8 to 9 CST area)) Smokescreen: ... Also, sounds sounds I have a gift for you- I meant to give it yesterday, but today works. Whirl: Anyway, I'm gonna bounce. I've got plant husbandry to take care of. Important stuff. Windchill: Hey, Smokescreen. Smokescreen. Smokes. Hey Smokescreen. Robustus: ((ah okay)) Smokescreen: Windbutt Windchill: *Lifts his arm so Whirl can escape.* Smokescreen: Aww- bye! ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HAVE FUN WITCHER PLANTS.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: [[What gift.]] Windchill: Yeah, I got some husbandry of my own to do, sometime tonight. Whirl: *before he goes, he's gonna rock to the side and bump Windchill's helm with his own. There. Adequate thanks for the gift* Windchill: *You left it wide open.* Whirl: *hops up and nods to Frenzy* Seeya, mech. Wednesday, yeah? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEP.\\ Whirl: ....I can't believe I just. Let you do that to me. Smokescreen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lq34Ob7Gsg&list=PLSRaJSzWdVm0OTdtE9J7aT5dYN3NvvFZZ This- I figured you'd like something like this! I got music that I thought you might like. Whirl: Let me say that. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave likes this bit of music. He adds it to his files.* Txen: *you know helm bumps are kissing where he comes from right whirl* Whirl: I'm going to have nightmares. Whirl: *helm bumps are kissing, for whirl, period* Whirl: *it wa s apeck* ItsyBitsySpyers: *The one Shockwave suggested, anyway.* Windchill: *Nods.* Whirl: And I'm gonna fight-cheat on you extra-hard now Windchill: I look forward to it. Txen: ((little kid OOOOOOOOOOOOH)) Whirl: All right, later losers! ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Farewell.]] Windchill: Bye, sucker. Whirl: I'll get back to you, mech. *salutes Predaking* Windchill: *Shoos him away, begone.* Smokescreen: Night! Txen: Predaking: Mmmh. Smokescreen: .... /Gonna go over to offer Predaking his servo- an opportunity for friendship would be awesome!/ Smokescreen: Wait come on sounds we don't need to listen to it here Smokescreen: it's 44 songs ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He merely wants to test i--]] Windchill: *Too late now dude.* Whirl: ((Danny Trejo wants u to stop paying too much for TV)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *LEANS FORWARD* Windchill: (( Thank u Danny. )) Windchill: *Whispers.* Smokescreen. Txen: Predaking: *raises eyebrows at this forward greeting* ...Have I battled you before? FakeProwl: *... that sounds painful* FakeProwl: *very clever, yes, but also painful* Whirl: ((MAN THIS IS GORGEOUS)) Txen: ((its ok prowl. theyre floppy drives, they're already as good as dead)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *They're detached drives. Whoever they belonged to probably can't feel pain anymore.* Whirl: ((music player is 1000% into but character wouldn't like, sob) Smokescreen: Haha-- probably a version of me- I don't think we've fought specifically, though. The name Smokescreen ring any bells? Smokescreen: ... /Hey he figures Soundwave probably would like kinda morbid stuff/ Primus: *A mental slap backside the helm for Smokescreen. Don't get killed* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave plays with head puppets. Smokescreen figures right.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave shakes his helm slightly. Okay. He's back to himself. That was fascinating.* Windchill: *Doesn't seem bothered either way about what he just saw.* Txen: Predaking: Ah, yes. *vague hand gesture* The 'versions' I have heard so much about. *still new at this* Smokescreen: /Also giving Primus a sad sad look. Awww come on/ Primus: *Primus is upstaaairs on the second floor. He just KNOWS OYU* Smokescreen: Yeah! I'm like-- Smokescreen, but probably a different one? ... Anyway- you seem pretty cool! Primus: *Don't make him come down there* Txen: *don't worry primus, predakings -mostly- mad at starscreams these days* Windchill: *Stretches. Time to head out, he'll try bothering Smokescreen again later.* Txen: Predaking: *decides this is an acceptable compliment* Thank you. Windchill: All right, I've got some animal husbandry to attend to. Smokescreen: Animal husbandry? Windchill: Thanks for the emotionally scarring videos, guys. *He gets to his feet with a grunt. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[You're welcome.]] Smokescreen: ... Have fun? Yeah! Have fun! Bruin: *Specter has reached maximum snackage capacity and will just slink back over to Bruin* Windchill: ...I'm not telling you what that means. Smokescreen: You marry the animals? Smokescreen: /He knows what it means but he's not about to mention that/ Windchill: You're not wrong. Windchill: Anyway. Windchill: Bye, losers. *He waves, and lumbers out.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Goodbye.]] Txen: Darksteel: *accidentally knocks over an empty dish while sniffing for spicy snacks... it rattles loudly on the ground* ...Wasn't me. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Fourth bowl, second tier.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *He knows what you're after, sir.* Smokescreen: Also, Preds, You're welcome! So- what's your world like? Things have been pretty okay for you, right? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Stay away from the chairs.]] Txen: Darksteel: *gleefully locates the correct bowl and tucks it into his claws* No promises, hehe~ FakeProwl: *notices--belatedly--that the person through whom he was bouncing his holomatter program has left. he's been hologram for a bit now* FakeProwl: *well. that explains why he stopped feeling soundwave.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Did not fail to notice; chose to carefully keep contact with the hologram anyway. Good thing he has fine balance.* ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i'll keep this going for another 15 so y'all can wrap up conversations and stuff but then i gotta stop, my computer's slowing down)) Txen: Predaking: The rains render our current circumstances somewhat... -claustrophobic-. *the chance to stretch his wings on a dryer cybertron is an appealing one* Txen: ((i noticed some... oddly slow music at points lol)) boomtank: ((g'night! Smokescreen: Ohhh- it's the rainy season over there? That sucks- you guys have been staying dry okay? ItsyBitsySpyers: ((night boom!)) Bruin: *time to head out, bird on one shoulder and one octopedal bot on the other* Thanks for the show ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Quite welcome. Be safe.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *He sends Laserbeak to follow Bruin out... just in case.* Smokescreen: Thank you for the music- I hope I can come sooner next time! And also- thank you for those math videos. I've been working through 'em- they're actually really helpful. FakeProwl: ((i still associate this song with that tfa jazz)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((same)) Bruin: *concern noticed and appreciated but unessisary tonight, he only trips ove one thing on his way to a groundbridge portal* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave nods at Smokescreen. Anything to help keep you from pestering either ally with silly math questions.* Txen: Predaking: *nods* Our den is secure and comfortable. It is simply difficult to stay inert when so much remains to be accomplished. Smokescreen: /Hey, that's fair. But he still might but you with math questions./ ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): If Starscream schedule forbids attendance, times: next two weeks, ensure videos: transferred. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Will do. What do they contain that he needs to see?» ItsyBitsySpyers: *... A belated thought.* [[If you require an arena for your battle, or a place to stretch your wings, he can arrange something.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[There -is- a deep canyon outside, and he believes the old Slaughter City pits are not taken by your brethren.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Megatron's death, resurrection, enslavement beneath Unicron, result. FakeProwl: *prowl hates everything after the first two words of that sentence* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Right. Noted. He'll probably enjoy it so much he won't even realize he's watching something educational.» Smokescreen: sounds noooo do we have to see this ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It's his queue. He can entertain himself if he wishes.]] Smokescreen: Fair enough... But feelers ItsyBitsySpyers: *Lifts both of them.* [[Yes?]] ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Good. That, best Starscream instruction method. Smokescreen: /Iiinching away some/ Smokescreen: Look-- I can get you some of those dancing videos if you want- come on. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Perhaps next time. It is time you were going.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[His deployers do have work shifts to resume soon.]] Txen: Predaking: *turns to Soundwave and offers a shallow, but gracious bow* Your continued assistance in these matters is appreciated. The belligerent one may also benefit from knowledge of this offer. *means Whirl; i dont think he bothered to introduce himself before challenging him to a throwdown* Smokescreen: ... Fair enough- I've got to check on Megatron anyway. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Disgusted huff at Smokescreen.* [[Very well.]] Smokescreen: ... What? I'm working with what I've got here. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Predaking: [[It is his honor. He will tell ... Whirl.]] For a moment he was tempted to call him The Belligerent One. Just for a moment. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He is aware.]] Txen: Predaking: *nods. it is good to know a mech's name before besting them in combat* Darksteel! Skylynx! *bark snaps them both to attention, and they drop what they're doing to clumsily assemble in something resembling readiness to leave* Smokescreen: ... WAIT WAIT isn't this the part where you beat up Airachnid ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy giggles.* Smokescreen: hold on can I stay for this ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Fine. Depart when it is complete.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i'm just amusing myself at this point lmfao)) Smokescreen: Okay, okay, I will- This is probably the best video I've seen of you! ItsyBitsySpyers: *Acknowledging nod.* Smokescreen: can. can you do that again sometime. Could I pay you to do that maybe Txen: ((dramatic boob zoom)) ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Perhaps. A discussion for another time.]] Smokescreen: Okay, night Sounds, night Preds! ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Farewell.]] Txen: *shockwave stands and takes a few steps away from his bench, preparing to leave with the predacons. first, however, he pauses and half-turns back to Soundwave* Farewell. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave rises and gives Shockwave a deep bow.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Thank you for coming. He appreciates your attendance.]] And your assistance. With some things. Txen: Of course. *after a moment, he turns to walk out with the preds-- but a small message is sent to Soundwave's channel before the door slides closed* ItsyBitsySpyers: *???* Txen: *its simply a screenshot of the scene where his feelers are crackling and he's advancing on Ratchet. Soundwave isn't the only one who appreciates their viewing material, every now and again* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Oh! Well then! He'll simply send back a small text smile. So noted.* Txen: ((thanks for streaming lol, ill get outta your poor computers hair)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((lol XD no problem, it's fun <3 see ya elsewhere)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave also nods to Prowl, if he's still around. Will place a "Prowl rests?" in text on his screen.* FakeProwl: *shakes head* Just switched to night shift. I'm heading to work. FakeProwl: I'm nocturnal for the forseeable future. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nods helm. He thought it was getting around time Prowl usually departs.* ItsyBitsySpyers: (txt): Suggestion: block balcony windows during sleep time. ItsyBitsySpyers: *It'll cut down some noise.* FakeProwl: *nods* We've started keeping the blinds drawn during the day. ItsyBitsySpyers: (txt): Good. Exercise caution. Frenzy notes construction more dangerous when recharge schedule changing. FakeProwl: ... Hm. Noted. ItsyBitsySpyers: *A small nod and a bow nearly as deep as Shockwave's.* (txt): Rest now. Soundwave will encounter next opportunity. FakeProwl: *nods back* Next time. FakeProwl: *flickers and disappears*

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