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| - Conflicting images of Los Angeles flicker across our television and movie screens: Hollywood glamour contrasts with gang violence, year-round sunny skies with smog, fast cars with traffic jams. From what travelers can gather, Los Angeles is a land of style and disaster, movers and shakers and earthquakes. Residents are accustomed to a rhythm that alternates between relaxation and stress, but out-of-towners -- fortunately -- tend to experience much more of the former.The nation's second-largest city (after New York), L.A. is a great place in which to do business or take a vacation. Marvelous restaurants, terrific nightlife, beaches, diverse cultural offerings, Disneyland and easygoing attitudes converge in a vast territory flooded with sunshine and lined with palms. Nearly everyone should see L.A. at least once, though a single trip will hardly be enough to appreciate such a vast area that's jam-packed with things to do. Ever present, ever dutiful, especially now that COBRA has offered a temporary truce to work together, Nightlash is on the prowl. High altitude, stealth systems engaged, cameras rolling. She's out for intel, and plenty of it. Seawing is stalking around LA, bossing around some Sharkticons. Wait, what's he doing here? Wasn't he in Moscow? Overbite is with Seawing, having discovered Gnaw was right and humans outside of the ocean don't taste good at all. Guess the salt brings out the taste better. Nightlash tends to not ask questions... That is what the other guys are for. She just brings them pictures. Lots of pictures. Though, she does make sure to zoom in and give Seawing a nice closeup, just to match it with previous pictures taken from Moscow. Seawing grumbles. "Overbite, humans are not for eating. The Masters want them alive..." He ponders for a moment. "...Besides, Cybertronians taste better than organics anyway." The Seacon snicklers. "Any word from Snaptrap? Nightlash loops back lazily for another pass, slowly banking into an overhead loop to orbit above the Seacon gathering as she cycles camera lenses for the best resolutions, both in infrared and standard spectrums. Snaptrap appears from around a corner, as if the very mention of his name summoned him from the shadows. His snarling voice speaks up, "The word is preparation. The Masters have something big in the works, and they want us to get ready for it." Seawing lets out a small hiss as Snaptrap pops out of no where. However, at the mention of the Masters, he bows his head. "And what is the will of the Masters?" he asks. Overbite says, "Yes, what do we get to do to our prey now? And...there we have it. Nightlash idly laments not having proper sound, but the pictures should do nicely. The collected ugly faces of the Seacons gathered together. It's the perfect time to nab profile pictures on all of them. As well as get an idea for pecking order...if the technicians scrubbing the photos can even discern that much. Snaptrap's features are hidden behind his faceplate, but the malice and excitement he feels are evident in his voice. "May not exactly be the hunt you're hoping for, but it will certainly be worth our time." Seawing nods his head, grinning eargerly. "Don't tease, brother. What do the Masters plan?" The teal Seacon balls his hands up for a moment, before relaxing. There's a faint flicker of movement near the base of the Bellum. However, no apparent cause of it. It's just a tiny blur, like a heat wave, small and probably insignificant. Nightlash banks into another slow pass, cameras continuing to record and snap away. Though...there's that flash on the infrared... She rolls her cameras over to the source, mainly to search for a potential survivor that might be stranded behind enemy lines... High definition lenses lock into place, replacing the wide-angles, to help narrow the search as she scans over the area. Active mapping camouflage and an onboard ECM Suite are more than enough to hide the humanoid figure from visual sensors. It moves swiflty, and on foot, away from the Quintesson spiral, slipping through alleyways toward the perimeter of the occupied territory. Nightlash continues to scan... but nothing shows up that seems to confirm the brief splash of signal on her Infrared. Hrm. Her cameras return to the gathered Seacons, though this time she pulls back for a more wide-angled view, again swapping lenses, to better keep an eye on the environment. Snaptrap turns away from the other Seacons, "All in good time. For now, we're headed for tropical climes..." Benin-Jeri, meanwhile, has been separated from the others, and has been running his own one-Junk guerrilla operation against the Sharks and Overcharges, quietly quoting Vietnam movies to himself, along with the occasional line from BSG. Benin-Jeri is actually quite agile and stealthy in the blasted terrain that used to be LA. It's close enough to his homeworld that he's like a penguin in water... surprisingly graceful in his proper environment. Seawing frowns at Snaptrap's back. "You never speak plainly." he grumbles, kicking at the ground and crossing his arms. "I was doing fine in the city called Moscow, until you summoned me here..." Overbite says, "Yes, brother, tell us!" Snaptrap walks through the ruins as well, heading toward the coast, "I try to teach you patience, brothers. Suffice to say that this will be the final step in our Masters' invasion plan. Once successful, nothing will stop us from converting this world into a new Quintessa." Seawing grumbles, following Snaptrap. "You act so high and mighty, because the Masters placed you in command." the Manta-Ray Seacon isn't happy about that fact. "...Your prowess in combat cannot be denied." he adds, as if to placate Snaptrap. Benin-Jeri moves silently through the rubble to near the Seacons' location. He strains to hear their conversion. A small audio amplifier deploys from his left shoulder. Overbite takes a bite out of a car as the Seacons pass, asking around the metal, "What is our mission in the tropical climate?" Nightlash continues to move along as she watches the group from the air, pausing every now and then to just run a quick scan... it would be horribad to be followed by a swarm of fliers or something nasty, after all. Benin-Jeri is well-camouflaged, but not EM shielded at all. Snaptrap finally reaches the coastline, staring out across the orange waters. He raises an arm, passing his hand across the horizon, "This, brothers, is just the beginning." He looks over his shoulder, "We're going to the Pacific Rim." Seawing looks at Snaptrap, stepping beside his brother. "So, the plan is... invade the rim and plunder it?" he asks, raising an optic ridge. Overbite says, "New hunting grounds!" Snaptrap turns to regard Seawing, "In a way. This Rim Job will open up an opportunity for much deeper penetration into this planet." While the Seacons discuss their ill-named plan, Nightlash continues to loop about in the skies overhead, working on setting up a nice form of communication to transmit what's being recorded, checking overhead satellites and ground-based cell towers. Seawing just looks at Snaptrap for a while. "...So what is the plan?" he asks, sounding irritated. Overbite says, "I hope this is better than attacking random ships. Snaptrap turns back to the ocean and takes a step forward, striding into the sea, "There's this belt in the Pacific Rim where the Earth's crust is thinner. It's called the Ring of Fire. We're going to go and scrape away some of the surface." Seawing follows his brother, shifting into Manta-Ray form as he does so. "And, what will that accomplish?" he wonders.Seawing shifts into Manta-Ray mode Nightlash dispatches her drone, sending it on a long, wide approach to glide in somewhere within earshot, hoping to all that she can it's not seen... But her intent is to just get recordings of what's being discussed, if no other reason can be thought of. Overbite is already in shark mode, so he enters the water and sighs happily, glad to be back in his environment. Snaptrap steps back and transforms into his turtle mode, forelegs slamming down.
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