| abstract
| - ‘’’Twilight Zone’’’ A strange fog whirls around, and it's hard for the average mech to see even two feet in front of them. Then again, it doesn't seem there's much to be seen. Stay here long enough, however, and the scene will change drastically. At regular intervals, the fog disappears, revealing a thriving Terran "gold rush" mining town. Or perhaps you're in a Monacus casino. Another time, an entire house full of mirrors and trap doors. Anything can happen, and most likely will: this is the Twilight Zone. ‘’Contents:’’ Mirage [Hidden] Grapple Rodimus Prime Foxfire Sit-Com Motormaster Creepy Old Mansion ‘’Obvious exits:’’ Fly leads to Sky Above The Dark Side. North leads to Death Star. South leads to The Prairie. East leads to Bedrock. West leads to Shores of Black Lagoon. ‘’Creepy Old Mansion’’ A strange old mansion with peeling paint and crooked shutters looks out of place even in this junk heap of a planet. Inside, the house has two floors. Downstairs, a hall connects two rooms and contains the staircase upstairs. There is a kitchen, where a delicious-looking spread of energon has been laid out, plus scrumptious human or Nebulan food. It seems to have been freshly laid out. There is also a media room, with a big screen holo-V (like a TV, but in the future), which is just displaying static. Trying to change the channel will just bring up various horrors movies, disaster movies, and news reports from across the galaxy about some pretty sick serial killers - the reception is strangely particular. Upstairs, aside from the hall and staircase down, there are two rooms, one with comfortable recharge berths and beds, again, if there are Nebulans or humans along, and one that seems to be a library, mostly full of books about poisons, murders, weapons, and horror. "What?!" Rodimus exclaims, rattling the door knob and trying to force the door back open. "It's stuck!" he exclaims. He pulls at it again. "I can't get it open." This really is pretty unusual, considering the circumstances. He turns back to look at the other Autobots and Junkions (at least any he can see). "How're you guys holding up?" he asks. Rodimus Prime does spare a glance towards Motormaster, just to make sure he's not trying anything. "Stupid, stupid rain!" Foxfire complains as he tries to shake drops of water off himself. It's a known fact that he *despises* water--even downright afraid of it. He sits on his haunches, shaking his head, then a frown crosses his muzzle as Rodimus attempts to open the door. "Stuck? Ain't that lovely..." He heaves a sigh. "I'm holding up fine, boss..." Motormaster glares at Rodimus. "Maybe you just aren't putting your ALL into it, 'Prime.'" Muscling up to the door, Motormaster throws his shoulder into it with a resounding boom and no useful effect at all. "What the deuce! What IS this place?" Indeed, beneath the peeling, stained, mildewed wallpaper, this place seems built like a maximum security prison. How peculiar. Rodimus Prime crosses his arms and smirks at Motormaster. "What's he matter, Motormaster? Having trouble getting your ALL through that door?" He glances back towards Sit-Com. "What the heck did you guys build this out of, anyway? Adamantine?" A subdued explosion can be heard can be heard in the next room, followed by a small cloud of dust escaping from said room. "So much for the door breach charge. I'm not even going to bother with the brawns. I'd say we're actually stuck inside this poor excuse of a house." A disembodied voice can be heard approaching before it's given a body, which appears in a blue wire framed shimmer. It's just Mirage, and he's looking visibly irritated. Given that Foxfire has enhanced senses, he knew Mirage was there, and is thus unsurprised at the other mech's appearance. "Fantastic!" he growls irritably. "We're stuck here with *that*!" He points a forepaw at Motormaster. "Doesn't look like something we built," Sit-Com says to Rodimus Prime. "Does look like someone transplanted a Scooby Doo or Horror Movie Scary House here, though." He turns and patpats Foxfire. "Don't worry, maybe the monster will get him. You know, the one that always lives in houses like this." Foxfire just stares at Sit-Com. "Don't even joke like that." "Oh, so you're saying this ain't Junkion property, hmm?" Mirage smirks before heading back into the next room again, "Excuse me then." There's a brief silence before an even louder explosion can be heard, this time pasty white dust floods into the room where the other Cybertronians are at. Eventually Mirage returns, dusty and looking even more displeased than ever, "Figured I'd give it another crack now that I know we won't be footing the bill for the repairs." "Don't MOCK me, Rodimus!" Motormaster replies sullenly. "At least I can take satisfaction in following you with VIOLENCE in mind instead of TRUST, unlike your unlucky cronies. So much for your vaunted Matrix-imbued leadership!" He storms off to go explore another room, and can be heard banging around in there testing the walls for secret passageways or anything of that ilk. Or maybe just banging on things to relieve stress. Foxfire looks up at Rodimus now, again pointing his paw at Motormaster. "Can I bite him? Please?" "Right," Rodimus mutters. "Because leaving my people to be fried in the acid rain would have been /much/ better." He turns towards the others. "We need to figure out if there's some other way out of here, and the sooner the better. Mirage is already looking. Sit-Com, take... well, why not take the TV room. Foxfire, you take one of the upstairs rooms, and I'll take the other. Be on the alert, guys - Motormaster might try something." You'd think Rodimus Prime would know better than to suggest splitting up at a time like this, but then, isn't that how the Scooby Gang always solved their mysteries? He moves upstairs, heading for the bedroom. Encore is crouched behind Rodimus, pistol in hand. He keeps it aimed upwards and his finger off the trigger, but the guns ready. He looks around, nervously. "Don't think I like this, guv..." He mutters, advancing as quickas, but more cautiously than his commander. "Don't like it one little bit." "Can't say I like it either, Encore, but right now we need to focus on getting out of here." Rodimus gestures towards the library. "Check for... you just /know/ this is the sort of place to have secret passages. Why don't you check in there?" And then he disappears into the bed room, to search through it. Or take a nap. One of the two. Foxfire just stares at Rodimus with an unreadable expression. "You...really want to split us up? This is *exactly* how it goes down in slasher flicks..." He shakes his head. "Whatever. You got it, chief." He stands, shakes more drops off himself, and heads for the stairs after Rodimus. Sit-Com takes the TV room. "If I had my way, every room would be a TV room," he mutters. "Oh well, too bad Scooby and the gang aren't here to draw monster aggro." Combat: Sit-Com compares his Technical to 90: Failure :(Rodimus Prime's voice shouts from upstairs. "Wha- what are you- NO!" and then it's cut off. If anyone comes up to investigate, his body can be found in the bed room, drained completely of all energon. There are traces of explosives around his dry husk of a corpse, and two fang-marks on his neck. Encore is half-way into the library when he hears the shout, dashing out of the room and into the bedroom. "Oh frag!" He yelps, and immediately backs out again. "Er, guys?" He whispers as loudly as he dares, taking several moments to calm his nerves and take a swig of a hip-flask he pulls from a hip compartment. "Guys!" He calls out, a bit louder. "We got a problem..." Rodimus Prime's empty Matrix seems to be stuck in his chest. Oh, well! Foxfire calmly comes out of the room to which he was sent. He stops inside the doorframe, ears twitching as he hears Encore's voice, and then he hurries at a gallop into the other room, where he comes to an abrupt stop. "What's the matter?" Encore 's eyes seem locked on the bedroom door. He just shakes his head a few times, unable to talk. If chromed steel were able to go pale, he'd be shining white gold by now. Motormaster pushes his way into the bedroom at the sound of the cry and guffaws at the grisly tableau in a rare display of delight. Without waiting for the Autobots to organize themselves or otherwise stop him, he heads directly to Rodimus and pries open his fold-open chest (all Primes have chests that fold open) to try to take the Matrix! But it's stuck as securely as the doors were earlier- it seems to be fused into him, maybe as a result of what happened to him. "Gnn! Cheating me even in death! Well, at least Galvatron will reward me for the body... if I can get out of here." Sit-Com finds nothing in the TV room, except TV's. Upon arriving in the bedroom, he stops and stares. "It appears to me," he says with a Belgian accent, "That we have a murder on the Orient Express." He points at Motormaster. "Stop, thief! If that's the Touch, you don't want it." Foxfire pins his ears back as he eyes the body. "Oh. That's not good." He approaches Rodimus's corpse and places a front paw on the arm. "No energon. He's been drained." He turns to Encore. "Did you see what happened?" Encore growls, stepping forward towards motormaster. "You're lucky there ain't room to transform in 'ere, Motormouth." He points at the Decepticon's chest accusingly, perhaps luckily for himself forgetting the pistol in his left hand. "Remember the forty?" He's diverted at Foxfire's question "Nah I was... library." He points vaguely. "Heard the shout and got in to find this." "This is a house, not an auditorium. Why are you shouting instead of using the radio?" Mirage asks as he appears from yet another dark recesses of the house, being the ass that he can be. That is until he notices Rodimus Prime's sprawled out body on the floor and the traces of explosives in the vicinity. This doesn't look good, "Well hey now. I know this looks bad the house is empty and I'm not the only one here packing explosives." His optics narrows at Motormaster as he watches the Stunticon commander trying to pry the Matrix out of the dead Autobot leader, "So what? Are you trying to be the next Autobot leader or something? Shouldn't you be trying to destroy it instead?" For something as dramatic as a dead Autobot leader being sprawled out in front of the people present, everyone seems to be strangely calm about this whole thing. Ouch. "That precious 'artifact' of yours is gone cold and dark as the grave," sour-grapes Motormaster as he gives up on getting the Matrix out and stomps back out of the bedroom. "Useless magic trinket. It's nothing but a bit of glass, no promise and no danger." He pauses outside the door to gloat, "Ah, but he was the strongest of you by far, wasn't he. Whatever got him is sure to take you next. Maybe you'd better dig your OWN graves with the hands Primus gave you, while you still can move them." Encore snorts, calling after Motormaster. "Maybe it'll do us all a favour and go fer you next!" He lights a cigar and takes short, angry puffs of it. It's evident he holds quite some animosity towards the truck-based Decepticon. "So anyone got any suggestions on what we do now? I vote we 'bots stick together as best we can, safety in numbers, right? And if any con wants to stick along... well, can't say I'll talk to you much, but we're all in the same danger, right? Let's 'ave our fights in places where it's just us?" Mirage smirks at Motormaster before looking back down at Rodimus Prime's dead body, he considers things for a moment before shrugging, "Receiving the Matrix is like picking up bad stocks, you lose hard." He looks to the other Autobots and Junkion present, "No use in idling around here, that baffoon isn't going to try to pick at Rodimus anymore and we're not getting anywhere either if we're stuck in this house. We'll come back for Rodimus once we've found an exit." Having said that, Mirage activates his cloaking field again and walks out, following the cliche terrible decision to a tee. SURELY A CLOAKING DEVICE WOULD KEEP MIRAGE SAFE?! (don't count on it) Encore scowls as Mirage fades. Not caring if he hears or not, "Muppet..." He mutters, before calling out louder "Stay frosty, kay Mirage? Radio if you get anyfing." "Sticking together is good," Sit-Com says, "Now, let's see if I can't go all Freddy and make a plan and a goofy trap for the murderer." He starts looking around for some rope and a pail. "I still know where you are, you know!" Foxfire calls after Mirage. He hesitates a moment, glances to the body, then Encore, and finally he scurries off in the direction that the invisible mech walked off in. Encore scowls "Fraggit, stick together, come on. We need a plan or this thing's gonna.. oh bollocks. Someone find me a cricket bat." He makes off after Foxfire, pistol at the ready. "I don't like this one likkle fraggin' bit..." Reidan has arrived. "What the?! Think you can try to pull a quick one over me, hmm?! ...oh bollocks." There's a loud sound of scuffling, but only Mirage's voice can be heard. Glass shattering, furnitures breaking, wall thumping, all of this can be heard in the further corners of the house for a bit and then silence once more. Just nothing but ominous silence. By the time the people in the house arrives, they'll find a -very- dead Mirage in the middle of the room and it looks as if a whirlwind went through this entire place. Closer examination of Mirage's body would reveal two bite marks on his neck and some flakes of red paint, just like the ones used for the Autobot's symbol. Back in the bed room, which was left abandoned by all but Sit-Com, a shimmering glow begins to coalesce over the body of Rodimus Prime. After a few moments it becomes increasingly distinct, eventually taking the form of... Rodimus Prime himself! He looks around, then down at his own dead body, startled and confused. "What the- this isn't supposed to happ- what's that?!" he exclaims as he hears Mirage's shouts. He automatically darts towards the bed room door, but seems to run into an invisible barrier as he reaches it. "Ow- hey!" Sit-Com strokes his chin thoughtfully as Rodimus appears to resurrect. He moves to the door, and is puzzled when he can exit it but Rodimus cannot. "Curiouser and curiouser," he says. When he hears the commotion surrounding Mirage, he pauses. "We'll get you out of this trap, don't worry," he says, and proceeds to dash towards inviso-deadbot. Only not so invisible anymore. Foxfire is backing out of the room, looking as if he's discovered Mirage's body. Licking his jaws, he glances about anxiously, as if expecting to be attacked. "Encore? Sit-Com?" Encore is close behind Foxfire, almost bumping into him as he backs out. "I'm 'ere bud, what's got'ch-!" His reassurance is cut off. "Oh frag me... So now what da frell do we do? That's two of us in the space of ten minutes. I toldja we should stick together now 'ow bout we go back and meet with Sit- Ah. Let's take a look at 'im." The autobot crouches down to take a look at the body, frowning as he discovers the red paint flakes. "'Ere, come 'ave a look at dis." Rodimus Prime's transparent optics flicker in surprise as Sit-Com rushes right past him, having no problems with leaving the room. He taps at the open doorway a few times, scowling, then finally takes a moment to look down at his arms and body, frowning as he observes that he can see through them. He turns and walks back over to his own dead body, kneeling next to it, both relieved to see that the Matrix is still there and annoyed to see that the Matrix compartment has been opened so quickly. He pokes at it, watching his fingers pass directly through it, and perhaps wondering why he's not /inside/ it right now, powering the Matrix to its own rebirth. A shimmering glow similiar to what occurred with Rodimus Prime's body also happens with Mirage, and soon a blue glowing translucent Mirage gets onto his feet. He narrows his optics at the people around him, the same irritated looked on his face as always, "What? What's everyone looking at?" As if following their gazes, the Autobot spymaster looks down and sees his own battered body on the ground. "Ah, for crying out loud. You can't be serious." Mirage complains, his feet stomps against the floor in protest but no sound comes out of it before he looks over to the rest of the gathered Cybertronians, "Well ha hah. I managed to kick the bucket too. Don't ask me what happened, I have no idea how I ended up like -this-." Foxfire peers at the paint chips, as if only just now noticing them. He sniffs. "Not a scent I recognize..." His ears twitch, then perk, and his optics widen a little as Mirage reappears in spirit form, while his physical body remains. "Sweet Primus!" Encore stumbles backwards, scrabbling against the floor until his back hits a solid surface. He almost raises his pistol to shoot the transparent mirage, only brought to his senses when his dropped cigar starts scorching the paint of his abdomen. He yelps and picks it up, taking a pull. "...Well." He says, once composure is regained somewhat. "That was unexpected..." He takes another swig of his flask, offering it around. "Liquid courage, anyone? Don't DO that to me Mi- um." He seems to realise Mirage is transparent. "Ah... uh... oh." Meanwhile, in the basement which he found a secret access to, Motormaster has stumbled on something uncanny. A crypt, populated with empty caskets... which are each sized for one of the Transformers who have sought shelter in the house from the acid rain! "Hmph. A strange coincidence," remarks Motormaster, looking closer at one roughly the size of himself or Rodimus. The nameplate on the casket says 'MOTORMASTER.' "Or perhaps NOT," reflects Motormaster, turning around to consider the covered well in the center of the basement He approaches it and... An outraged roar of surprise and dismay can be heard throughout the upper part of the house as something takes Motormaster by surprise, out of the darkness! Encore says, "Oh for frag's sake NOW what?" "Right here, little fox." Sit-Com comes and observes the same strange phenomenon with Mirage as he did earlier with Rodimus. "Now tell me," he says, switching to an Austrian accent, "Can you not move from the room? Are you the Ghost of Christmas Present?" The Junkion starts searching all around the perimeter of the room, to try to find any secret access point where a murderer may have escaped through. If Sit-Com or Encore bother to look, Foxfire has vanished. "No kidding?" Mirage says with thinly veiled sarcasm in response to Encore and continues on venomously, "So much for being rid of you war happy fools after going to the great beyond." Mirage hisses in annoyance before he raises an optical ridge in response to Sit-Com's question. "What kind of question is that? Obviously I ca--- ooof!" The ghostly Autobot spymaster slams into an invisible wall squarely in the face before staggering backwards a few steps, "Wait, you mean I'm stuck -here-?" Encore looks up at Mirage, then looks around again. "Foxfire? Where the frag's that little squit got to now? Sit-com, do we stick 'ere with Mirage or..." He looks out the door. "Did you see where Forfire went? Nah, 'e' can't 'ave, but..." Mirage raises both of his hands and does a shoo'ing motion at the two remaining living occupants in the room, "That critter can be hard to track, go on and find him." Encore twirls the pistol around his finger and nods "You wanna take point or shall I? Or should we do Paper scissors rock?" Rodimus Prime starts to pace around the bedroom, walking straight /through/ the furniture. Every now and again he tries the door or one of the walls, but nope - stil stuck! Motormaster lurks in the basement, raging under his breath and punching the walls as they're the only thing he can touch. The floor creaks almost silently under the weight of Foxfire's paws as he descends a staircase. Ignoring the sounds of Motormaster's wall-banging, he jumps into the trapdoor, landing gracefully on his paws, the gaze of his optics landing on a giant lens, the likes of which he has seen before. He turns his unreadable expression on Motormaster. "Stuck, are you?" he asks with no hint of concern. The Junkion shrugs. He leads Encore down to the Media room, which leads to the basement. He sees what Motormaster saw. "Personalized coffins. Nice touch. Maybe it was the Spanish Inquisition. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! What, no coffin for the dead parrot?" The Junkion shrugs. He leads Encore down to the Media room, which leads to the basement. He sees what Motormaster saw. "Personalized coffins. Nice touch. Maybe it was the Spanish Inquisition. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! What, no coffin for the dead parrot?" Encore hears the creak and follows, blinking and looking around. "...dat's messed up, one for each of us, right?" He goes along the row, reading each name "Hnnh." "I was GOING to open that well cap and escape through that, but I wasn't fast enough," grumbles Motormaster's ghost. "I thought the whole lot of you might at least slow the killer down a LITTLE." Encore says, "So can you tell us anything, Motormouth? You might be a cock but you deserve some vengeance."" Motormaster's body, on the other hand, is lying by the well, which is sealed with a massive concrete lid. It has a smear of silver paint across its grey arms, where Motormaster struggled briefly with his attacker. "The killer is... I... NGH!" In frustration Motormaster turns and slams his spectral head against the wall. "I can't! I looked right at... I can't say anything about it. I'm bound somehow! But it must be near. It was right here!" Rodimus Prime finds himself wishing he could access the deck of cards he keeps in subspace so that he can play solitaire. He sighs and taps his foot against the floor - one of the few things he can touch. "I wonder what ghosts do for entertainment, anyway?" Foxfire's ears twitch again as he hears Encore's and Sit-Com's voices. He inches over to the slab-covered well, and promptly cloaks, vanishing into thin air. Encore blinks "Is there anything else you can tell us, Motormouth? Modus operandi, warning signs...?" Motormaster turns around slowly and fixes Encore with his phosphorescent spectral glare. "The killer is in this room with you right now." Encore pulls back the rack of his pistol and looks around "Ah tinscraps. Sit-com, eyes sharp." He stares into the shadows, pistol held out infront of him in a two-handed grip. Very army-movie. Sit-Com gazes at Undead Motormaster and then at Encore. "It's not one of us, is it?" he asks, almost rhetorically. He reaches into subspace and retrieves a clove of garlic. He dangles it in front of Motormaster. "Tell us what we want to knowwww!" Encore says, "Oh give it a rest, Sit-com. Need your eyes in the shadows!" "Look to the shadows," Motormaster warns, looking around himself, not that he could do anything. "It can't be very large. It moves fast and seems to come out of nowhere- it must be well hidden." Sit-Com moves towards the darker areas of the room, holding out the garlic-on-a-string to ward off whatever nasties may be lurking there. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he says, in a singsong voice. Encore nods "Cheers mate..." He mutters, moving closer to the shadows, peering deeper. "Shout if ya hear anything." Foxfire suppresses a hiss at the scent of garlic. It's not a pleasant smell, at least not for him, with his sensitive vulpine nose. Staying invisible, he lifts a front paw, steadily and subtly pushing the stone slab covering the well. Encore says, "Didjoo just 'ear somethin'?" Encore calls. "Not sure if I..." Motormaster fades into the shadows, haunting the crypt until someone finds the dreadful murderer and gets vengeance for him! The house creaks, and... there's nothing else to do. The seriousness of the situation has finally hit home for Mirage, as he realizes that he just may be stuck in a rickety old house on Junk for the rest of his intangible afterlife. Perhaps he can put himself out of his afterlife miserys by shooting himself again? He reaches down for his rifle that now lays on the ground beside his inert coporeal body only to have his fingers pass through. Damn. Must be karma. The Autobot spymaster sits down cross legged, head resting on his right hand, supported by his right leg. What a mess. Since the victims all had puncture marks on their necks, Sit-Com is reasonably certain that the culprit is some sort of Vampire. Hence the Garlic. "I hope whoever it is doesn't sparkle," he mutters, "And isn't on Team Edward. Team Jacob for the win!" Encore blinks "Whatever mate... you got a light source on you at all man? Primus this is just too wierd.." Foxfire continues to move the slab, until there's an opening big enough for him to go through. He climbs into the well, silent. Rodimus Prime once more goes back to prodding at the Matrix. Encore explores the room as best he can, peering into the shadows and cursing the fact that he couldn't get infra-red optics "There is nothing wrong with your television set." he quips, trying to lighten the mood a little. Sit-com should recognise it instantly. "Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. " Sit-Com keeps poking around until he finds that the slab's been moved aside. "Oooh, trapdoor," he says, and moves the slab all the way so he can go down there as well. Keeping the garlic out at the ready. "Coming?" he asks Encore. Encore says, "We can roll the image, make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarit-" He breaks off. "...allo. Yeah I spotted it too, let's go. You seem to know what's going on, either that or you're crazy. Got any more of that stinky crap, or anything else that might work?" Foxfire, oddly enough, does not seem to mind the water. That is particularly strange for someone who's aquaphobic. He remains invisible, staying close by the lens in the well. Encore follows Sit-com down carefully. "This is a stupid, stupid idea, Sit-com. Just so you know." A pause. "Not that I've got a better one, mind...." "Well, nowhere to go but down here," Sit-Com replies. He reaches into subspace and pulls out a miner's hat. He puts it on and flicks on the light. "Oooh what have we here?" Encore looks around "Like I said, I don't 'ave a better plan." He looks at the lens too, tilting his head. "Hmm. Wot dya fink it is?" It's a great big lense, perfectly clear! Too perfectly clear. Quite like all the other lenses that have been causing trouble thus far. "A Magic Lens!" Sit-Com exclaims. "I wonder what it's doing here." He remembers the lenses like that from the Olympics. Could this have something to do with the murders? Foxfire stiffens as the two examine the lens. An odd, vague feeling washing over him...a feeling that he must protect that lens. He stays invisible...and Encore may feel a sharp, painful bite on his leg. Encore nods "And... what's a magic lens when it's at home. Ow, frag!" He looks down at his leg, feeling the bite. "Something bit me!" Sit-Com pulls out a large syringe from out of nowhere. "Had all your tetanus shots?" he asks. Encore just /glares/ at sit-com Sit-Com examines the bite wound. "It's ok, I'm a doctor." Encore nods "I know. But don't stick me man, had enough sharp and pointy already!" The invisibility cloak suddenly disappears, revealing Foxfire! His normally blue optics are blazing red, and he's snarling dangerously, his fangs glinting despite the lack of light. He says nothing, instead lunging at Encore, leaping upward in an attempt to bite his neck...in perhaps the same way that the other victims were slain. Encore yelps and attempst to dive aside, blasting widly with his pistol. "Primus-!" "EEEK, RABID FOX!" Sit-Com exclaims. He transforms and attempts to catch the fox in his electro-net. Sit-Com folds down into his Junkcycle Mode. Vroom, vroom! Combat: Junk-Cycle misses Foxfire with his This is not the Inter-NET! (Grab) attack! Rodimus Prime absently wonders if he can /force/ his way into the Matrix somehow. Combat: Encore misses Foxfire with his Wild Blasting (Pistol) attack! That missed attack hits the lense, and it cracks, just a little... Foxfire misses Encore in his lunge, landing on his feet behind the mech with a soft splash. Why does the water not bother him? "NO!" he cries as the lens is damaged. Encore blinks and levels his pistol at the lens again. "Back off, ya little squit." He orders, putting a shot into the ground /next/ to it as a warning. "You better tell us what the *frag* is going on before I decide just to open up on the lens an' bugger the consequences." Encore is quite obviously freaking out, pissed off, confused as hell, and /really/ needing a stiff drink. "How very strange. Possessed fox?" Sit-Com muses. "Yes, why is the lens so important? What would happen if we destroyed it? Would you return to normal?" Foxfire stares at the lens, his optics still blazing, then he whips around to face Encore and Sit-Com once more. "Protect...lens...give...give me your mech fluid!" Encore growls "Back off before I put another crack in it, Foxfire. Two steps to the rear or I fire. Final warning, bolt-bag, I'm really NOT having a good day here and I'd be quite happy to take a squit in someone ELSE's damn cornflakes for a change." A lightbulb goes off in Sit-Com's head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a replica of Foxfire's ball. He shows it to the foxcassette. "Here's your ball, Foxfire. Do you want it?" Foxfire snarls dangerously at Encore. "If you damage that lens, I will tear out your laser core!" He turns the glare on Sit-Com. "Silence, Junkion!" Encore smirks "If you don't take two steps to the rear now, foxie, I'm gonna fraggin' well smash the things to bits even if all that's left of me is jus' me 'ed. You got ten seconds. Nine. Eight..." He begins counting down, pulling back the hammer of the pistol threateningly. "Seven..." The motorcycle splits apart and re-forms into the jovial form of Sit-Com. Let the laugh track begin! Foxfire lowers his head, pinning his ears back. A growl escapes his vocalizer as he slowly backs away. Encore nods, doesn't lower the gun. "Now dat's more fraggin' like it. Who are you, what've you done with Foxfire?" Sit-Com watches the ball bounce unchased. "Yup, the porch light is on, but nobody's home," he says. "Is Dana in there? I want to talk to Dana." Encore snorts "There is no Dana, there is only Zuul." Foxfire suddenly lunges at Encore again, snapping his jaws at the larger mech's main fuel line! Combat: Foxfire strikes Encore with his Bite (Kick) attack! Encore yelps and attempts to grab Foxfire and yank him off - or maybe it's keep him on. "Smash the lens ya muppet! I'll keep the little frag occupied! Quickly!" Combat: Encore misses Foxfire with his Bad Dog! (Grab) attack! Encore does, of course, go down under the impact, unable to prevent Foxfire latching on. "Gerrimoffame when yer done!" Sit-Com LEAPS! He tries to bodyslam the lense with his elbow out!" Foxfire digs his claws into Encore, snarling and snapping at the fuel lines. His tail is raised and his ears are down, just like a wild, aggressive canine. The lense crumbles to tiny shards, and as the shards splash into the frigid water of the well, a voice can be heard, more from the inside of one's head than outside, "Nine of twelve. Time is not on your side. No matter how deep you delve, you cannot hide." All the victims will find themselves back in their bodies, whole and well, and Foxfire will find his unnatural hunger gone. Encore is hauling and trying to pull him off anyway, freaked the hell out. "Gerrimoffame! Gerrimoffame! Gerrimoffame!" Sit-Com shouts at the Voice, "We are Locutus of Borg. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated." He goes to pick Foxfire up off of Encore. "Shhh," he says, petting the fox. Encore stands up and blinks at Sit-com "You mad, after what 'e' just done...? Slowly, the house starts to vanish all around them, blending into the mists that blanket the Twilight Zone of Junk. Soon, it is as if it was never there. Foxfire's optics fade from burning red into their normal cool blue glow, his tail slowly lowering and his ears gradually rising. "Wha--Encore? How--" He hurriedly scurries backward, away from Sit-Com, and off his comrade. "I--I had this...hunger! For mech fluid! That wasn't me!" Sit-Com looks at Encore. "Did you bury the Indian skull?" Rodimus Prime's dead optics flicker back to life and he bolts upright, immediately feeling his body to confirm that it's still there. Then he leaps to his feet and darts for the door, checking to see if he's still stuck in this room. And then the room, and the house itself, starts to vanish. He skids to a stop and blinks, looking around. "Guys?" Then he looks up. "Well, at least the rain has stopped..." Encore blin-blinks and puts the weapon down, looking around. "Rodimus? Mirage, you there too?" He looks around, blinking again. "...and the house's gone. Did any of that... actually... just even happen?" He checks himself for damage, and counts his cigars. Encore 's wierd sh**ometer is going crazy. Foxfire lowers his ears again. He seems to do that a lot. "Chief!" Rodimus Prime shrugs. "I don't know! I was stuck up in a room the whole time." He rubs the back of his head, optics narrowing, a faint frown painting his expression. "And I really have no /idea/ why I ordered us to split up... it's like I was playing to some sort of absurd horror movie cliche!" Encore says, "I should've joined you on da slab too Rodimus. The guy who's always freaking out's usually the last to die!"" "They can't kill a Junkion," Sit-Com states. He glances out around the open air of the Twilight Zone. "I wonder who was controlling the horizontal and the vertical." Foxfire stares at Rodimus. "Maybe it didn't happen. It...seems like it was just an elaborate illusion. But...I'm sorry for...you know. THAT." Encore sniffs "Certainly pushed me to me outer limits." If a cigar's missing or not, he still takes one and lights it, taking a sip from a flask. The first one he offers it to is Foxfire. "Mind if it was all a headfrag, poor little Foxie 'ere got the rough end of it. Not saying it was nice for anyone, but.. poor little bugger. Swig o' this'll settle yer nerves." He looks left and right. "Lifted this outta the pocket of a Con sweeper in the bar. Con-grade fuel. 'S a real pick-me-up." Mirage wakes up on the floor, finding himself faced down. It isn't long before he climbs back up onto his feet, patting himself off before realizing what was the cause of his demise. It all makes sense now too, no wonder he was able to be discovered while invisible! Why that sly fox tape! Rodimus Prime looks between the others, frowning. "What /are/ you guys talking about?" He pauses. "Did I hear something say something about nine of twelve?" "Must be the Borg," Sit-Com says, with a shrug. Encore blinks "Nine 'er twelve's familiar now you mention it... Foxfire takes a grateful drink from the flask, using a forepaw to steady it. "Thanks," he mumbles to Encore, then he looks up at Rodimus. "There was a lens...in a well...and it...DID things." Rodimus Prime looks down at Foxfire for a long moment "Ah. Right." He sighs. "Broken, I take it?" then he looks around. "All right, guys. Let's go home." Encore offers the flask around "Yeah, an' whatever was in control of Foxfire really /didn't/ like it when a stray pistol shot hit the lens." He shrugs. He doesn't know Foxfire all that well, but what he does know is that he's a friend. He wouldn't attack like that. "So yeah it's broke. Sit-com elbow-smashed it while I, got my khyber mauled - er. Distracted the posessor." Sit-Com stares at Rodimus. "I am home," he says. Foxfire bounds over to Rodimus. "Home, yes! Let's get off this creepy planet." He pauses. "No offense, Sit-Com." "Well, then, you can stay here!" Rodimus answers. Sit-Com goes to make sure Little House on the Prairie isn't haunted by the ghost of Michael Landon. Encore chuckles softly. "Place has its own *unique* charm, Sit-com mate. But my recharge slot's callin me, and I've gotta check how the distillation's going. Rodimus, lead the way guv'nor, take us 'ome." ================================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/116 Posted Author Weird Things On Junk Sun Oct 31 Rodimus Prime ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Rodimus Prime appears on screen, the mists of the Twilight Zone region of the planet Junk visible behind him. "All right, so we got some strange energy readings coming from the planet Junk that I felt were worth investigating. I grabbed a crew consisting of Mirage, Encore, Foxfire, and Sit-Com to do so, where we encountered Motormaster, who had the same idea. Then an acid storm of the sort we /usually/ get on Cybertron cropped up, and to keep ourselves from shorting out we... took refuge... in a strange house that shouldn't have been... look, I know it sounds idiotic, I don't think I was quite thinking right at the time. Anyway, we went inside this strange old house and it locked itself, we got stuck, and... I was murdered soon after." He shrugs. "For a while I was stuck as a ghost haunting a damned bed room, and then I heard something about 'Nine of Twelve' and a shattering noise, and then I was alive again, and I've /yet/ to get a proper explanation beyond, 'It was a lense, it did things, and now it's broke.'" He throws his hands up. "I have no idea. I don't know what happened to Motormaster, either, but whatever caused that energy signature - I'm guessing the lense - is gone. Maybe /somebody/ else will explain things later." And now he seems to be looking off camera at something that's rather low to the ground, optics narrowed in irritation. ==============================================================================
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