| abstract
| - Outskirts - Polyhex The well maintained road to Polyhex is as busy and crowded as the city itself. Six lanes of traffic head to and from the Decepticon capital, with a wide assortment mechs utilizing it. In addition to normal civilian transports and Transformers, the military has a heavy showing here. Siege tanks, APCs, and recon vehicles are all common sightings. As one approaches Polyhex itself, security becomes heavier, the military presence strengthens, and control over the people tightens around them. The skies are filled with Decepticons. Off in the distance one can make out the transparent walls to the city, and the foreboding sight of Darkmount looming over it all. Operative Deaddrop has been waiting for extraction for the past few megacycles...he knows the 'Bots have been busy, but he can only keep up his cover story for so long! So he waits on the borders of Polyhex, having received the signal that this was the cycle. And the extraction team is indeed on its way. Blurr, Elita One, and Blades, each complete with Decepticon holomatter disguises, are on their way to the first security checkpoints. Thankfully, they don't have to go too far, if all goes well they should be able to identify the target near the border... <> Female Decepticons, well that's a rare breed, and Elita One hasn't many choices to go with. Flight is out, so that limits things dramatically. She wears a small tag on her shoulder that temporarily gives her that holographic visage that is a bad repaint of Scorn. The dark brown and black makes the knockoff look more like a dead bug so Husk was her cover. She crouches instinctively as the team approaches the checkpoint, always vigilant in scouting. <> Elita One lowers her hand down to her sidearm, then pauses. Disguise was never her strong suit, but it does occur to her that the more ready for combat she was, the harder she'd be looked at. Blades is cosplaying... Spinister, actually. Blades is Vortex too often. Also, this way, Blades doesn't have to talk. And he's a fabulous pink. The only downside is that he has to shoot people, because Spinister is all about the shooting. "Exactly, Hairsplitter. The point isn't information- that's merely a byproduct of the art." Singe runs his hands through his beautiful and perfect hair. The two are standing on a small skiff being driven through the Polyhex crowds by Frighttrain, the newest reluctant member of the Mayhem Attack Squad. "Interrogation should be fulfilling! Do you understand?" Hairsplitter nods. "...Pain." Blast Off walks through the area, heading away from Darkmount after being repaired- yet again. The Combaticon is absorbed with typing into a datapad, entering a report from the disasterous encounter he just had with Blurr at a remote outpost in Cuprahex- one that resulted in a massive explosion and has left the shields of that outpost non-existant. Blast Off barely escaped from the explosion with his life, and right now the Combaticon appears rather quiet and subdued... even for him. However, few know him well enough to notice the difference, really. The presence of the Decepticon military has always been heavy outside of Polyhex. But with the recent Autobot assault on the dungeons beneath that other city for a jailbreak (really hard to call it sneaking in when they blew half the place up), the Military has been tighting down its already ironclad grip around its capital farther. And that is why Weirdwolf was prowling along the various positions, occasionally butting into squad patrols to check their numbers, but mainly double-checking the tanks and other defenses for explosives or sabotage with his exceptional senses. It was boring as heck, but the potential of uncovering someone or something that would lead to a fight kept him focused on the task. Less so for Monzo, whom was actually using his compartment in the mecha-wolf's back to catch a nap. <> Approaching the first checkpoint, he flashes a forged ID to the security mechs. This time he's Fasttrack again. OTHER Fasttrack, okay? Not that stupid drone who can't even talk. "Good cycle, friends." he smiles politely. "Just getting back from some routine maintenance checks over in Helex. Making sure those 'Bots don't bring any more bombs down there...right?" He says lightly. If only Blades knew, he would be kicking himself for not cosplaying Airwolf instead. If only he knew. In any case, he glowers at everyone, silent and blank. Is he thinking about murdering the whole room? Who knows? He's mysterious! Husk crosses her arms, her talons rasping on her forearms in irritation. "Are we done with thizzzz? I didn't get anyone to eat during thizzz entire patrol." She shifts her shoulders as she eyes the three Cons in the area. Her big bug eyes help conceal the fact she's looking right at Weirdwolf, expecting the inevitable. Her talons clench into a fist on her arm, apprehensive with the situation. Accompanying one of the various gumby patrols rolling through the various checkpoints, no doubt to deliver some supplies or another, is the mostly repaired, but mildly battle-worn SRT-V that is Dustoff. Nothing overly crazy this go-around... in fact, it's the only assignment he could land, considering the fact he's still got a few cogs loose from a bullet-to-the-head courtesy Velum. Yup... routine convoy escort, providing logistical support... NOTHING SIGNIFICANT OF NOTE HERE... In fact, as they arrive in Polyhex proper, Dustoff affords himself a bit of relaxation, blasting some twangy music from an onboard sound-system. Lots of guitar, a little bit of banjo in there, and hey... some rich, bass vocals with that specific drawl that makes it unique... "Frighttrain! You idiot! Slow the skiff! You're ruining my curls!" Frighttrain does his best not to roll his optics at Singe's order as he brings the skiff to a slow crawl. Singe thwaps him in the back of the head. "MAke yourself useful and turn into a hair dryer and rollers." He shoots a look at Hairsplitter. "What are you gaping at?" Hairsplitter points at 'Spinister' in the crowds. "Trinity." Blast Off keeps typing into his datapad, trying to avoid crowds and keep his distance from everyone. However, that's rather difficult here. Plus he's rather distracted and nearly walks into several people. Each time, he huffs in annoyance but says nothing as he steps lightly aside and keeps walking. Eventually he hears some sort of racket that grows and grows, as does the annoyed look on his face. Finally looking up, he spots Dustoff driving by. "Why on Cybertron do you continue listening to that? Is... is that even music?" Another patrol coming in? Hmm. So hard to keep track of who's suppose to be coming and going with the increases to security and counter-intelligence patrols in general. And he doesn't have a Nebulan that's a glorified desk jockey to keep it all straight. He looks like he's taken an interest and is going to plod over to investigate. Until an outbreak of shouting from one of the sentry squads draws his attention over, where a few guards are 'restraining' a civilian that tried to sneak around the edge of the lines to bypass one of the checkpoints. And by restraining we mean beating him with their energy-batons while he protests that he's just a lowly neutral. "Tsk tsk tsk. Brutal, yes, but sloppy are you." Weirdwolf steps up and jostles Monzo awake so he can transform, and thrusts his arm into the cluster to yank the neutral out by gripping his neck struts. With the other hand he waggles a finger at him. Then turns to SMASH the mech had enough into the ground that you can hear the weak metal of his back shattering from the impact of the chokeslam. "THIS is how handle line cutters you do!" .. Autobots-in-disguise are probably really hoping those fake IDs work now, eh? The mechanical wolf rises up into a bulky robot, Monzo folding up and forming his head. "Spinister" is just so mysterious that even his own Nebulans don't know where he's gone. Obviously. The blatant display of brutality on Weirdwolf's part doesn't elicit any reaction at all from him. No, he just keeps up his act of one part menacing, one part empty. He has all the time in the world to get through this line, and if he's slowed down... they'll never find the bodies. Blades's own feelings are more complicated, but they don't matter right now. The gumby security mechs nod absently, their optics glued to their datapads. What are they doing, playing games perhaps? Did they even -look- at the IDs? Possibly not. And since no one came over to make sure they're doing their job, they simply wave the disguised Autobots on through. Blurr grimaces inwardly at the cruel beating Weirdwolf is dishing out on that neutral, and resists the urge to rush over and protect him. They were on a mission...speaking of which, it now that they were past the checkpoint, it was time to search for Deaddrop, who should be waiting nearby. <> But he stops, as one of the Decepticons appears to be trying to distract Weirdwolf. A large socket wrench suddenly clangs into the back of the Headmaster's...well, head, thrown by the rank-and-file soldier. Blurr chuckles. <<--never mind.>> Storm SRT-V slows as Blast Off calls him out, hitting the brakes as the convoy continues on... They are in Polyhex, so...it should be safe? No need for a medic, at least. "C'mon now, BO. How can you /not/ like this music? It's got some serious core-filled undertones if you bother listenin'." And, with that, the volume gets cranked up to eleven. o/` I'd convinced my core I didn't care. But couldn't stop thinkin' of your carefree stare. So I hurried back to where I'd let you go... Ooooh, I tried t' see if you were still there... but when my spotlight shone... it was on an empty Magnaron... o/` Dustoff is about to remark about something, but the commotion courtesy Weirdwolf draws his attention. The music's volume is cut back down and the throttle feathered just enough to turn him about so his headlights are facing the scene at-hand. "Looks like someone didn't have the right ID," he remarks, watching the neutral get slammed to a pulp. "Uh, we should see if we can recover that guy for parts. I still need a replacement auditory receiver and processor for one side of my head. I mean, why not- Wait, did someone just throw a wrench?" Blast Off winces as the volume gets turned up... "Slag it! I *do not recognize that as music, no! Do you MIND? I just narrowly escaped a reactor facility *explosion* for Primus' sake! Do you realize how LOUD that was? My audios are *still ringing!" He pauses to pick at a crack in his arm servos. "And despite repairs, I am *still* picking debris out of my armor." Indeed, despite the repairs, it's obvious fresh paint has been applied over some rather nasty scorch marks. Dustoff's later comments get an annoyed huff as the Combaticon looks over to catch the last of the "show". "How uncouth... You go do what you want, that does not sound like a fun time to me. I have a report to finish writing..." Both Singe and Hairsplitter stare at the arriving Spinister for a long moment. Suddenly, Singe snaps his fingers. "Frighttrain! Carry on! We're wanted at the gate, you pathetic excuse for a Decepticon." He glances at Hairsplitter. "What? I'm curious." He smiles. Hairsplitter just stares back at him. "...Cats." With a malevolent grin Weirdwolf hoists the neutral back into the air. "Now prehaps, tell us why sneak by you did, will you? Or would rather you more of this get inste--" *CLANG* The wrench smacks the back of his head firmly, just enough to make the headmaster stagger a step and drop his victim into a heap on the ground. A snarl that sounds more appropriate to his altmode escapes metal lips as he stands back up and glares around. "Who that threw did?" Every other Decepticon near him backs away, insisting it was not any of them. The other gumbies point trembling fingers at the one who did in fact throw it. "I-it was him, I swear!" they exclaim. He looks like a generic seeker...but it's actually Deaddrop, of course--an Autobot operative. The mech feigns looking terrified. "Sir! I-I'm sorry, it was an accident, we were just...messing around...I didn't mean to you hit you..." 'Fasttrack' approaches slowly, signalling the others to do the same. He just stands there for the moment, folding his arms to see what will happen, here. Blades debates with himself about how Spinister would treat his Nebulans. He spent some time under Spinister in the Mayhem Attack Squad (such a long story), but Blades really has no handle on Spinister at all! Which is probably how Spinister wants it. he settles on... not exactly orgnoring the Nebulans. Instead, he just pretends that they're.... Streetwise and... Hot Spot. Hairsplitter is Streetwise. Singe is Hot Spot. Because fireball cannon. Yeah, that's it. he just moves like they're going to be exactly hwere he expects them to be. he doesn't need to look at them because he knows where they're going before they even move! Primus, Spinister is goign to appear right behind Blades and murder him with death. Definitely cosplay Airwolf next time. Storm SRT-V is not about to let that last remark go unanswered. "It's music and you know it. No different than a big-bellow'd mech howling about feelings in some crazy long-dead language." He floors the accelerator, offering a loud screech from tires spinning before he's cruising towards the demolished Neutral. One quick transformation later...and he's tapping the left side of his head to try and rattle the right-side's audio receptor in place. Ugh...fruitless. "Alright, alright... no need to get feisty. Just picking up this guy and you can get back to dismantling the wrench-thrower...alright?" He glances at Deaddrop. "Man...you've got a deathwish or something..." He takes a knee to look over the neutral Weirdwolf battered into submission earlier. Hinder must have heard something over the communication channels, as she's come slinking out of hiding to stand next to Blast Off and look up at him as the defacto leader currently available. She could go off on her own and see what there is to see, but that doesn't usually work out so well. Besides, this way she'll know who to report back to if she DOES find anything. If he doesn't notice her right off she'll put a front foot on Blast Off's foot to get his attention. Optics narrow behind his visor as Weirdwolf turns in the direction of the indicated object thrower, even as he stoops down to pick up the offending tool. Gives it a light lob into the air in front of himself. *CRUNCH* And transforms to catch it in his jaws and snap it in two like it was little more than tinfoil. Part of it falls to the ground. The other part he sucks into his mouth and starts chewing on more than loud enough for everyone else to hear. Watch it buddy, or that will be one of your limbs next. Weirdwolf drops to the ground, landing on all fours as a robotic beast. Blast Off huffs, going back to his datapad. "It's not crazy, it's cultured. Some of us enjoy taking the time to learn and understand the language as well as the very classic way they used to set the scenes. There's also..." But at that point Dustoff is already gone. The Combaticon sighs and looks back down at his datapad. Eventually his line of sight picks up the ...ferret(?) below. He deigns to look away from his pad and stare imperiously down at Hinder. "..... May I help you?" In a ridiculously complicated series of twists, turns, and noises, Dustoff's SRT-V form is shed to reveal a ruggedly handsome mech. Deaddrop watches fearfully as Weirdwolf chows down on the socket wrench, but the Headmaster doesn't say anything else, so maybe he's safe? He glances around, making brief optic contact with 'Fasttrack' and fake Spinister, then starts backing slowly away. "It...won't happen again, I promise..." he repeats. "No more wrench throwing..." Suddenly, 'Fasttrack' approaches them. "Pff, you should know this is no time to be fooling around." he says harshly, then nods to Weirdwolf. "We'll take care of this idiot. Make sure he doesn't make the same mistake again later." Blades glares at Deaddrop vacantly. Is he planning on melting Deaddrop alive? Is that just how he always looks? Is he just trying to intimidate the already frightened fellow? No one knows. "To it see that you do," retorts the mechanical wolf. Followed by spitting out the gnashed up remains of the half a wrench. Point made, Weirdwolf starts to stalk off to intend to more important things. Or maybe the next tank he'll just void his oil pan on instead. That's something canines do, right? Hinder tilts her head a little at Blast Off when he looks down at her. "Ready for orders." she puts her front foot back on the ground, having already raised it to step on the taller mech's foot. She turns to look at Weridwolf in momentary distraction, but then her red optics turn back up to Blast Off. Dustoff pulls out his laser-scalpel to cannibalize the battered neutral right there... "Don't worry, I'm a medic! I know how to make this work..." He mutters 'sort of' before getting right down to business, whether the neutral's alive and just stunned or not. Well, even if he was alive, he won't be for long. "Yo, Weirdwolf, just rip the guy into pieces... I think we've got a Seeker back in the bay in need of donor wings anyway." The medic shrugs casually as he continues to work on the battered husk of the neutral. But...as Weirdwolf just...walks off? Ugh. Well, there goes that bit of fun. He points to the alleged 'escort' for Deaddrop. "Hey, tell you what...I've got to get to Darkmount with this guy's core so we can preserve what's left for salvage. I can take him. We'll just ground him for the duration and get him off on 'community service' for now. Hardly worth bothering with the usual due process and all." Blast Off looks down, slightly confused. "Orders?" Then he remembers he's a Captain... slag, he might even be the ranking officer here. Great... all he wants to do is finish typing and slip away quietly. Go somewhere he can be far away from people. Hmmm, the moon is nice this time of year. He sighs and looks down to her, then the scene nearby. "Oh... right. I suppose.... go..." He waves a hand towards the sceene. "Do whatever it is you do best." There, busy work- that should get rid of her for now. He walks over to the others, wincing at the mess. "That... is disgusting. Who did that?" "Come on, let's get moving..." Blurr whispers to Deaddrop as Weirdwolf seems to accept the offer and starts moving away. Heh, this was going more smoothly than he'd thought. But Deaddrop seems reluctant. <> the operative says over the comms. Sighing, the speedster turns toward Dustoff, who's now creating a problem for them. Hmm...<> Flying is handy. << I'll deal with this medic. If anyone asks any questions just tell them you're dealing with some rookie.>> 'Fasttrack' turns to Dustoff and steps between he and the poor, battered neutral, arms folded. "Excuse me, but we don't need your help. We can handle our jobs just fine ourselves..." Blades folds his hands behind his back and stares up at the sky for a moment. He's so still he could be a statue. Then he suddenly springs and points at Deaddrop. He stalks on over, footsteps light, and clamps a cold hand on Deaddrop's shoulder. That done, he attempts to drag Deaddrop off, no explanation given. Hinder bobs her head at Blast Off, then shuffles off a few steps before bounding along at a jogging pace toward Dustoff and his 'patient'. Because what does she do? She snoops. And pays attention to things she finds interesting. And whatever the so-called medic is doing is more interesting than just about anything else. She'll even climb up on the downed neutral's head to peer at what's being done if she's allowed. Dustoff looks up from his work, by now elbow-deep in it. 'Fasttrack' is simply regarded. "Uh, nope. Claiming a bit of medical jurisdiction here. Besides, no one'll miss this little wreck," he pats the neutral he's working with on the head. "I mean, between you and me? Better this than the slag pits... Won't feel a thing." He reaches for his laser-scalpel. "Just gotta sever a main line here. Let's see... Egh... terrible job, whoever put your frame together, pal." The medic is momentarily distracted by the fact Deaddrop's being dragged off. "Hey! C'mon now! I told you I had him taken care of... nnng... I really didn't want to have to haul this back on my own..." He mutters, looking down at Hinder. "Well, hello there..." He pats the smaller con on the head before resuming his search for the primary 'artery' to cut. "Hey, find out where they're hauling that seeker off to, if you'd be so kind," he offers an actual job to the little bot! Blast Off stands, looking at the other Cons- and the Bots in disguise. If *only he knew* Blurr was standing nearby.... The Combaticon watches events unfold, but no one answers his question. Hey, if he *is* the ranking officer, shouldn't he get a bit more respect? He huffs slightly, then motions to "Spinister"... "You." Then he blinks. "Uh, Spinister? Or... actually, please tell me you're not him, because if you are I must say your new paint job is atrocious." Blurr clenches his fists. Urgh...how could he get away with this? He can't let Dustoff kill that neutral like that, he's already gotten enough neutrals into trouble as it is. Gah, to the afterspark with it. Blades is almost out of here... The courier's hand suddenly whips forward in a lightning-fast motion, attempting to knock Dustoff's hand away from the main fuel line. "And speaking of that neutral, Shockwave needs more intact specimens for his experiments. And he's tasked me with procuring them for him, so I'm afraid you're out of luck today." And he attempts to grab the poor mech around the waist to carry him away as well. Combat: Blurr sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Blurr strikes Dustoff with his Hands Off! (Punch) attack! Combat: Gained 1 energon. That little slap was enough to really push the scalpel away... In fact, it was so unexpected and sudden, the medic manages to slice through the hand he's attempting to hold some wiring to the side with. And that hurts. Dustoff recoils, a nice gash evident in the flex-plating of his left hand as energon seeps from the wound, a few of the fingers looking to be immobile due to some internal damage or another. "Hey!" He is quick to get up on his feet, but one hand is occupied with stemming the flow of fluids in the other, and he's not quite up for a fight in that state. "You'd better hope you do not end up in my medbay, mech..." He kicks the dropped laser-scalpel to the side. Hinder looks at Dustoff then bobs her head when he tells her to inquire after the seeker being hauled off, but then yips in surprise as the mech interfering with the medic comes really close to swatting her as well. She hisses and snaps back at the swatting mech, then tilts her head. "You smell like an explosion. How did you move so fast?" Blast Off looks on, slightly annoyed as it looks like a fresh fight is about to break out here. Plus, this idiot here is damaging the medic. Not that Blast Off cares that much about Dustoff, but the Combaticon often finds himself in Dustoff's medbay, and he wants those hands to be *working properly*, dangit... especially if they're working on *him*. he steps closer to Dustoff and "Fasttrack" to chide the unknown mech. "Careful! Only an idiot injures the medic who may soon be working on him... " The Combaticon shakes his head, feeling thoroughly annoyed about being roped into this mess and is debating just leaving and letting Dustoff take care of his own matters. He starts to turn away, then Hinder mentions "explosion" and "fast". The indifferent and annoyed Combaticon suddenly freezes in his tracks. Tense now, he turns around slowly. "....What did you say?" Blades continues to drag Deaddrop off, making aboslutely no effort to ensure Deaddrop's comfort. As soon as they're out of visual range of... everyone else, Blades whips out his photon pistol, dials it up to its highest setting (which isn't much), and he puts two rounds into the nearest wall, boom boom. The rest of the group should be left questioning whether 'Spinister's just executed Deaddrop' or not. But then Blades transforms and offers Deaddrop his tow hook. Time to get out of here! Deaddrop doesn't mind that he's being dragged roughly. In fact, he prefers it because if Spinister were treating a miscreant too gently, some people might get suspicious. And thus, when Blades offers the tow hook, the operative quickly grabs onto it and secures to his back with a quick "Thank you," spoken in with his vocal synth on low. Meanwhile, 'Fasttrack' drags the battered neutral toward the outer perimeter between checkpoints, glad that the medic isn't putting up a fight. Once he's there, he transforms, cramming the smaller mech into his alt mode compartment. Yeah, he's smaller, but not that small, so it isn't exactly comfortable but it's the best he can do. <> He comms in, waiting for a patrol to pass by before making a break for it. Blast Off has about 50 astroseconds to get after him.. In a flurry of moving parts, Blurr folds down into a pale blue-colored supersonic hovercar. Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar sets his defense level to Fearless. Dustoff is really about to kick his laser-scalpel again, but...sensibility gets the better of him. He sets to work with a huff. "I swear... sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Help a Con? He crashes into you... work a little salvage? Get your hand sliced open..." He looks down at Hinder. "Pull me up his records, medical files... gonna make his next few cycles a nightmare." He grunts, cinching down the patch on his hand. He'll finalize the repairs later. Combat: Dustoff quickly patches up some of his minor injuries. Hinder doesn't hop off of the neutral's head as the fast-moving mech starts to drag him away, raising her voice as she keeps questioning him. "Where are you taking him? Do you have a reason for acting so strangely? Why won't you answer me?" Her voice is reaching shrill levels, though still very much loud enough to likely still be easy to hear by the others. When the mech dragging the neutral stops and transforms, she hops off of the neutral's head and onto his chest to bite at the mech trying to stow the injured individual. She's hissing and still carrying on very loudly as she snaps. "I don't like you!" Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar expertly evades Hinder's attack! Combat: Hinder misses Cybertronian Hovercar with her yappy snappy (Punch) attack! Combat: Hinder (Hinder) used "Punch": A Level 1 MELEE attack. Blast Off turns around in time to see "Fasttrack" suddenly make a break for it. Everything about this seems so awfully familiar...and coming right off another battle where Blurr was holo-disguised... this is just so, so deja vu. Oh slag no. No you don't, Blurr. Because by this point Blast Off is convinced it must be. The sound of hovercar engines is the last straw and the Combaticon sniper whips out his ionic blaster to aim at the vehicle. There is a quick glance around though- Ok, good, no reactors ANYWHERE NERABY. "Stop or I will shoot!!!" And then he shoots anyway, aiming to avoid Hinder and the passenger area and instead focus on the engines. If by some chance he's wrong, he'll claim he merely shot the mech because he attacked a medic and resisted arrest. Combat: Blast Off sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar expertly evades Blast Off's attack! Combat: Blast Off misses Cybertronian Hovercar with his I can SHOOT you now attack! [Pulled -1] Combat: Blast Off (Blast Off) used "Ionic Blaster": A Level 3 RANGED attack. No, you cannot SHOOT him. Blades flies away as fast as he can! Towing Deaddrop makes this harder than it should be. Plus needing to avoid patrols... this will be dicey! Blades transforms into his Bell UH-1V Iroquois mode. Combat: Bell UH-1V Iroquois sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Bell UH-1V Iroquois begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Cybertronian Hovercar Urgh, that fragging Casseticon! Blurr does his best to ignore her shrill questions, and when she lunges at his chest he twists out of the way and attempts to smack her away from himself. And then someone shoots at him, which he also manages to avoid by swerving sharply to the side. He looks up and sees Blades flying away--he hadn't answered the comm but this will do. Seems he'll be in the clear soon enough. Now to deal with these glitcheads... ...wait. Is that...is that BLAST OFF?! Ugh, he wants to knock that Primus-forsaken spawn of a glitched diode SO badly. But unfortunately, he has a job to do this time. So instead, he simply speeds out of there as fast as he can, but not before sending a broadband message over to the Combaticon... Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. You send a radio message to Blast Off: Slag you Blast Off! You're supposed to be DEAD! You receive a radio message from Blast Off: Are you deaf as well as stupid? I told you once, I'll tell you again- I am NOT so easy to kill. You send a radio message to Blast Off: Blurr lets loose with a string of curses. Hinder gets swatted off of Blurr and goes tumbling to the ground, too slow in picking herself back up to keep the rude mech from running away. ...or driving away as the case may be. But that doesn't stop her from shrilling out one last angry retort. "I'm gonna tell on you!" Dustoff finishes the patchwork on his hand and checks. Ugh...fingers are moving...sort of. Trouble for later, it seems. He makes his way over to Hinder, just to make sure the little yap is in one piece. "I don't think he heard ya," he mutters audibly. Blast Off misses, thanks to Blurr's accursed speed and agility. And of course, even the quick Combaticon has little time to mount a pursuit before the Autobot makes a getaway. He lowers his gun, glowering...outraged. But not as outraged as he is when he receives a string of nasty radio messages- and responds in kind. Well... it's obvious Blurr had a bit of surprise today, too. GOOD. The Combaticon hopes to continue surprising bLurr- including with the shock of destruction. Optics blazing, he sharply turns around to look at Hinder. "You. What is your name?" Hinder shakes herself much like a Terran dog would to dry off, then looks up at Dustoff. "Well, I tried." Then Blast Off is there and looking at her mean-like while asking her name, so she ducks her head and looks up at him. "Hinder." Dustoff turns on Blast Off, giving the combaticon a warning glare... "Don't vent on us, Sir..." He goes to point, but it's with the sliced up hand...so the fingers don't cooperate and force him to switch. Rather than do that, though, he just goes back to retrieve his laser-scalpel. Blast Off nods to Hinder, not quite aware of how intimidating he looks right now- especially to someone her size. "Relax. You did an excellent job. You are ... rather useful. Continue sniffing out anyone who smells like an Autofool..." He glowers in the direction Blurr headed. "ESPECIALLY that one. You smell him again, you radio me immediately." Dustoff causes Blast Off to pause. "I... I am simply displeased that the Autofools continue to infiltrate our cities. Surely we have better scanning technology to warn us of these charades? If we don't, we should...." Dustoff pockets the scalpel and shrugs. "I don't know! I'm just a medic! The expendable one, at that." He spies the half a wrench left over from Deaddrop's little exhibition with Weirdwolf and picks it up, glancing at Hinder. "You said you smelled an explosion on the aft-hat? Here, smell this. Next time you see this guy? Call down every bit of hate and discontent you can manage on that seeker's sorry tail." He tosses the half-a-wrench over. Whether the idea holds merit or not. Hinder if it's possible to put emotions to the ferrety face, she seems relieved if not a little surprised that Blast Off is actually praising her. She tilts her head as she regards him for a moment, then bobs her head in a sort of nod. "Acknowledged." Shuffling over to the wrench Dustoff tossed toward her, Hinder spends a good several seconds giving the wrench a thorough 'sniffing', then picks it up in her teeth and stows it in a storage compartment on her hip. Blast Off gets quite riled up (for him), listening to Cybertron and Decepticon frequencies. The Combaticon has to work hard to maintain his usual aloof and dignified manner... and it's questionable whether he succeeds or not. After nearly being blown to smithereens by Blurr, and then listen to the Autobot use typical Autofool hypocrisy to deny ever doing so, well... it angers him. This rivalry with Blurr has escalated, and he really needs to "cool his own jets". If he allows himself to get as emotional as an Autobot... he will probably lose. Glancing up to the sky, where the stars are, he takes a minute to calm himself, then looks back down. He nods to Hinder. "Good. I will see you again, then." He ignores Dustoff, sicne he's annoyed at him for a comment the medic made on the radio, and walks off with as much aloof dignity as he still can. This must end. Soon. Before he loses "himself" to this rivalry. Hinder looks from Blast Off to Dustoff and back, then scurries after the former. He seems like a boss-type who actually gives reasonable instructions, and that's rare enough to want to stick with him.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)