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| - The purpose of this structure is obvious to anyone who knows one end of a wrench from the other. It's a broad table, pushed up against a wall- and on said wall, there are rows upon rows of drawers, each holding the typical bits and bobs needed forwhatever it is the bench's owner works on. There are racks of tools next to the little drawers, arranged in a semi-haphazard manner; wrenches, pliers, razors, industrial lasers, drillsall and all, a familiar sight to any engineer or technician. Save for one thing: This workbench is about the size of a football field. There's an upturned, clear bowl of some super-hard ceramite substance in the center of the workbench, forming an impromptu dome- perfect for holding tiny little creatures (like, say, kidnapped Cybertonians!) in place. Contents: Air Raid Grimlock Redshift Obvious exits: Down leads to The Gallery. Americon has connected. Fairway climbs out of the hot tub and towels off. Fairway has arrived. Fairway drops The Divine Comedy. Air Raid takes The Divine Comedy. Bonecrusher has arrived. Somewhere in the far distance...there's the sound of the door opening! One can see the distant silhouette of a gargantuan alien...has the Collector come to track down his newest aquisitions at last? Perhaps! Though, as the figure gets closer...since when does The Collector wear a dress? Redshift is trapped within some sort of 'dynamic display', where he has been firmly glued to a clear plastic rod and stuck in a DRAMATIC ACTION POSE of flying through the air. After apparantly being punched in the chops by someone large and burly. He has been stuck here, frozen in place, for several days. Payloader escaped from the bowl a while ago, by virtue of somehow being faster than a jet. The animators were on the good crack that episode. He has been hiding and skulking amongst the power tools, looking for a way to free Bonecrusher from the dreaded bowl, though Scrapper has now been gone so long that Bonecrusher might have just gotten out on his own. From behind a drill press, Scrapper peers... the Collector has a GIRLFRIEND? Will wonders never cease!? Air Raid is, for once, quiet, and sitting indian-style in the middle of the bowl, glaring straight ahead at nothing. Well, inadvertly Bonecrusher too, if he hadn't escaped. His optics swim up to lock on the sudden cross-dressing Collector, if that's even him. Well, he could be cosplaying... If there is a cord in this room, it has been chewed upon mercilessly, frequently exposing its copper wire. The walls, also, have been clawed and have numerous scorch marks upon them. And the vandalism does not end there. Even now, one of the lightbulbs is spinning out of its socket, thanks to the strange red, white, and blue creature clinging to its surface and spinning the bulb about as his thrusters blaze behind him. The lightbulb drops out and lands on the ground with a crash. "SUCCESS!" Americon cries, flapping his wings as he observes his handiwork from above. "...in America!" Mazel tov! Fairway originally found a rathole in which to hide, but rethought that after his first encounter with a giant space rat. Ousted from that spot, he found another place near a part of the room the collector probably hasn't used in a long time - the corner where the cobweb-hung weight machine languishes. During the brief time he spent hiding, he has tried to devise some tool that he could use to push the bowl off of its table and free Air Raid. Sadly, he hasn't come up with much. He is fuming, frustrated as he sees the figure enter. He isn't quite sure what the significance of the dress is. Bonecrusher has been digging through the desk instead of attacking the impregnable crystal dome, using the lower corners of his blade to start the hole, working at it with his fists, and finally chewing through the desk with his drill attachment. This is considered 'lateral thinking' for Bonecrusher. Just as the (female?) Collector comes back, Bonecrusher breaks through to the underside of the desk and tumbles to the ground with a clatter! He sits up, none the worse for the experience, and scurries away into that very same rathole that Fairway had gotten into earlier. He'll have to learn about the space rats on his own. And the distant figure approaches closer- and closer still- only to have Americon's falling light bulb smash on the ground right behind her! "Oh!" she says, her voice a humorous falsetto. Upon a closer look, the alien's hair is of a lighter, greenish-silvery color- and are those age lines on her face? "And here I keep on telling him to clean up after himself!" she fusses, and then shakes her head ruefully. "I'm going to give that young man a talking to...oh!" and her bulbous yellow eyes slide to the workbench. "THAT'S where my mixing bowl went. Honestly!" she fusses, and hustles over to pick the bowl up- freeing those inside! "I wonder where I went wrong with him..." she gives a pained sigh. Payloader doesn't really know enough of squishies to quite place that is going on with the female alien. However, when the bowl is removed, he immediately peers for Bonecrusher - and sees none! Scrapper transforms and rubs his chin. Either Bonecrusher escaped on his own, or Bonecrusher has plastic shoved in very uncomfortable places, like Redshift. While the woman's back is turned, he starts too shiny down the drill press's table and head for the door. Maybe she'll open it! The totally unassuming lime green payloader unfolds to become Scrapper, the architect of destruction! <> Americon transmits. <> He begins to fire eyebeams at the back of the huge alien, and like a WII fighter, performs multiple strafing runs in his heedless assault upon her. "Die, monster! You don't belong in this world!" Air Raid gladly lets Bonecrusher do all the work, and gets up to follow him through the hole just as what appears to be the Collector's mother simply lifts the bowl. He wastes no time in hopping down after the Decepticon, and looks around for his fellow captives. The good ones. "Doc?" His attention is quickly drawn to Americon and his incredibly foolish but admittedly amusing assault. Redshift has been struggling to free himself from this diorama for days on end, with little success. His meagre physical strength is too little to break the bonds that hold him in place, and that plastic rod that supports him is /exceedingly/ uncomfortable. He has, however, one last-ditch plan to attempt, and the arrival of a /second/ giant alien makes NOW the best time to try. Still locked in an immobile pose, he squeezes his trigger finger, firing a blast of orange flames, spraying fire all over the diorama- and himself! Maybe the burning plastic and glue will attract some attention. Or put him out of his misery. Combat: Redshift misses himself with his Flamethrower attack! [Pulled -2]
* Zort!* "Oh!" The Alien Woman fusses, as she is be-lasered, "Must be a Goraxian Bloodsucker- I hate those!" and with that said, she fusses about- casting her googly eyes over the workbench until she spies...a massive can of spray-paint. It's not raid, but it'll have to do. "A-ha!" she says, and attempts to spray Americon with the stuff! *FFSSSSSH!* It is worth noting, however- that far in the distance, the door is open! You send a radio message to Bonecrusher: If you're out there, forget Americon - let's head for the door! Fairway boosts up onto the table as what appears to be the Collector's maternal unit removes the troublesome bowl with no trouble at all. He clambers onto the table and peers down the hole. "Air Raid," he says. Before he can say anything else, Americon fires on the alien, distracting him. He hisses. "Primus! Are you glitched." Oh wait...this IS Americon. As the alien turns a retaliates with sprays of colored mist, Fairway calls back down to Air Raid. "The egress to this chamber is open, Air Raid! Follow me!" With that, he transforms and roars straight off the table, making for the door Fairway drops forward onto his fists while his torso spins and his legs fold inward. His hood tilts up, head flipping back to disappear beneath it, and his arms lock into place at his sides. With a familiar, five-tone sound, Fairway transforms into a DeLorean DMC-12! A horrible screeching and a roar of fury indicates that Bonecrusher has just found out about the space rats. He comes running back out of the rathole after a few moments, covered in blood and pursued by a space rat. "One side, flyboy!" he grunts at Air Raid, jogging along the baseboard towards freedom. You receive a radio message from Bonecrusher: I hear THAT. Scrapper transforms back into his faster payloader mode, flying wing and all, and he makes a beeline for the door. It probably just leads to another room, but it's a start! No, he doesn't care if Americon is spray-painted or if Redshift is on fire, but he does have the courtesy to radio Bonecrusher. Priorities. Scrapper cleverly disguises himself as a bright green payloader. No one will ever suspect! Robotic Bald Eagle shrieks, "YeeaAAAGHHH!" as he is blasted with a hefty spray of red paint! "NO! I can't be ALL red," Americon yells in horror as he watches himself become easier for the animators to color, "that would make a Communist! NOOOOOO! Decepticons, RETREAT!" And so he rockets away from the mother's unstoppable onslaught. Unfortunately, his thrusters ignite the spray paint blasted at him, and he finds a ball of flame the size of a city block chasing after him. "EGAD!" He tries to accelerate and outrun the fire! "Eh!" Raid looks up to Fairway, then nearly gets mowed over by Bonecrusher. "Uh!" The door, it's open! He transforms and takes off after Fairway, naturally ignoring poor, unfortunate Redshift and Americon. Air Raid shifts and twists, pieces sliding into place to form his F-15E Strike Eagle mode. Bonecrusher jumps up and grabs onto Scrapper's undercarriage as his leader flies past, to hitch a ride! Bonecrusher is about the same speed in both modes, sadly. Redshift's 'simulated action bATTLE DAMAGE' soon becomes real damage as the diorama around him catches fire and begins to melt, dripping molten plastics onto his frame. "YEEOCH!" He shouts, as the lava-like melted stuff sticks to him. While painful, it seems to have loosened the glue sufficiently for Redshift to break free! Like a bat out of hell, a flaming, plastic-napalm-dripping Redshift streaks across the room, and towards the (very conveniently)open door! Redshift moves to the The Gallery. Redshift has left. Fairway moves to the The Gallery. Fairway has left. Bonecrusher moves to the The Gallery. Bonecrusher has left. You move to the The Gallery. It's almost hard to qualify this chamber as a 'room'- its walls and ceilings stretch far off into the distance, easily dwarfing anyone within. There is a workbench at one end of the room, while at the center, there are a few gargantuan chairs pointed towards an equally enormous entertainment device. What really draws the eye, however, is what's along the walls. Each is covered with rows upon rows upon rows of transparent display cells; and within each, there is a warrior of some variety. Their eyes are dark and deactivated, staring blankly into space. Even still, there are no signs of rust or decomposition on any of these long-dead warriors, their bodies preserved by their crystal coffins. A faint breeze wafts in from somewhere, bringing the scent of fresh (if alien) air with it. There's a door leading out of the room, but it is far too massive to be moved by anyone who isn't properly sized. Contents: DeLorean Bonecrusher Redshift Obvious exits: Door leads to Kitchen. Up leads to Massive Workbench. Air Raid arrives from the Massive Workbench. Air Raid has arrived. Americon arrives from the Massive Workbench. Americon has arrived. Bonecrusher moves to the Kitchen. Bonecrusher has left. You move to the Kitchen. The kitchen isn't quite as sterile (or morbid) as the gallery before it. It's disorganized and cluttered in the manner of lived-in kitchens everywhere. Little bits of some unidentifiable alien substance (food, hopefully) are spattered across the countertop, and empty bottles and what one might presume to be food-wrappers are strewn about as well. There are windows to the outside, however- revealing an alien landscape of dark blues and purples. Occasionally, some enormous skittering alien creature will scurry up to the window to stare hungrily at the food on the other side of the window. Or wait... maybe it is looking at you? Contents: Bonecrusher Obvious exits: Hallway leads to Bedchamber. Door leads to The Gallery. Air Raid arrives from the The Gallery. Air Raid has arrived. Redshift arrives from the The Gallery. Redshift has arrived. Fairway arrives from the The Gallery. Fairway has arrived. Americon arrives from the The Gallery. Americon has arrived. Grimlock arrives from the The Gallery. Grimlock has arrived. And the alien lady comes fussing out of the Gallery! Thankfully for the cybertonians, she seems to be more occupied with: "The state of this kitchen. Honestly! Well, when he gets back from that Eyecon buisness, he won't even recognize this place!" and with that, she sets about tyding up- dishes washed (well, disinfected), countertops wiped down, and so on! Nothing can stop her rampage of cleanliness! Robotic Bald Eagle escapes from the horrible room, now red and smoking a bit. "Phew! That was a close one!" he says. "I hope my fellow Decepticons made it out of there, because if not, they are SO screwed!" Observing a window, Americon's optics go wide. "Oh, wow! Cool! All I have to do is smash that window and I am free!" With a determined look, he accelerates straight for the window--only to bounce right off of it. A tiny crack remains at the point of impact, and he goes flying across the room. Payloader is flying about, carrying Bonecrusher, because Scrapper is sadly the fastest of the Constructicons. Perhaps that is why he's in charge. Maybe they had a race to determine leadership. (Probably not.) He groans, "This place goes on forever!" Some purple cat hairs drift past him as he flies, dun dun dun. DeLorean isn't quite sure whether or not he should stop in this room or not. He reasons that it would be better to transform and check it for exits. He springs back into robot mode, displaying a spectacularly unremarkable transformation, and pauses briefly to flag down Air Raid. "What can you see from up there?" Fairway converts back to robot mode. Grimlock moves to the Bedchamber. Grimlock has left. Strike Eagle darts into the kitchen and immediately flies towards the ceiling, circling. <> He putters away from the cleaning rampage and glides for a corner. <> Americon moves to the Bedchamber. Americon has left. Redshift is also red and smoldering, although usually he is only red. Globs of melted plastic are stuck to him, now cooling to a hard mass. This has not been a good week for Redshift. <> Bonecrusher begins following you. Fairway is suddenly preoccupied trying to evade the haphazard sloshing of an enormous mop. He is forced to risk quite a long burn of his jumpjets, overheating them, to get onto a chair. <> He transforms again and heads into the bedchamber. Fairway moves to the Bedchamber. Fairway has left. Air Raid moves to the Bedchamber. Air Raid has left. Redshift moves to the Bedchamber. Redshift has left. You move to the Bedchamber. Here is the resting place of the collector! A circular bed/nest dominates most of the room, easily the size of an aircraft carrier, with pillows the size of office buildings. There are shelves along the walls- there are more deactivated warriors lining them- though these ones are arranged in morbid tableaus. There's much to see: a pack of dead-eyed Sharkticons facing down a skull-faced figure with a mace in place of a hand. Jets and shuttles of half a dozen different varieties dangle from wires on the ceiling. A regiment of crimson-masked soldiers stand at attention, holding their laser-rifles at parade-rest, as if waiting for an order of "at ease" that will never come. A half-dozen mechanoid aliens stand in a row, each with a strange, circular crystal mounted in the center of their chests. And, standing in a position of honor, standing guard over the window, is that Omega series Sentinel, still in pristine condition- its blank red facemask glowing as it keeps watch over the rows and rows of dormant warriors- perhaps to make sure they stay that way? Contents: Fairway Grimlock Rodimus Prime Sky Lynx Strike Eagle Redshift Robotic Bald Eagle Space Shuttle Obvious exits: Hallway leads to Kitchen. Bonecrusher arrives from the Kitchen. Bonecrusher has arrived. When last we saw Americon, he had been bouncing off of the window in the kitchen. Now, currently, he is perched upon the head of Omega Sentinel, and seems to be chillaxing, like nothing is wrong whatsoever. He flutters his wings and paces about for a moment, adjusting himself. Fairway rolls into the collector's bedroom and casts scans about in dismay. <> he radios to Air Raid, <> His engine revs disdainfully. <> Strike Eagle stays airborn while he follows Fairway into the bedchamber, if it could be called that. "Whoa," he murmurs, angling up to fly around the dangling shuttles. Eventually he spirals down to land beside Fairway. "You may be right about that." Redshift is limping along with the Constructicons, globs of melted plastic adhered to his frame in places. He's also still a little bit on fire. "Huh, more 'collected' robots. Good thing the alien seems to be /gone/ or we would've ended up like them." He says, gesturing towards the morbid, mute displays. Payloader flies into the bedroom, not wanting to chance any nonsense with giant space cats in the kitchen. He curses, "Slaggit! I hate that fragging Guardian!" Hating may be Bonecrusher's deal, but even Scrapper hates some things. "I hate all guardians everywhere!" adds Bonecrusher, feeling competitive. "Not just Guardians, guardians in general! Anything that guards something else! I hate 'em!" Fusillade has arrived. Considering the so-called 'Collector' considered a full sized Sentinel little more than a toy, Blast Off was totally unsurprised to find that, upon catching up once more to the Sweeps and their hunt, the planet apparently was inhabited by giants. It certainly explained a few things, to say the least. Why the hell they weren't here -now-, nobody knows. Damn unicronians. On the bright side, being relatively -smaller- than the local made it easier to slip under potential atmospheric detection and put himself into a low flight path and start sweeping the surface in search. If he was searching for the missing Decepticons, or the Collector's stash so he could nuke it, is up to you to decide. It gets the job done either way, and if he's really lucky, maybe he'll get to do both once he's homing in on the right sight.... Dammit, Astrotrain didn't show up, did he? Crap, that means he's got to play taxi too. Slag. Robotic Bald Eagle waves a wing at the other captive Decepticons from his perch on the Guardian's head, his beady optics focusing on them. "Hey, guys! Hey! Guys! Hey! I'm over here! Yoohoo? Guys? I see you down there! Hey! Heeyyyy! I see you!" This entire planet seems to be hell bent on humbling Sky Lynx as he makes the descent down from outer space and into the atmosphere. Guided by the directions that was uploaded to him by the Steelhaven's computer core, Sky Lynx makes the journey down to the planet of... whatever this place is. The Autobot lieutenant commander cruises through the various residental areas until he settles in front off a window which just so happens to be the location that he had been instructed to go to. Narrowing his golden optic bands, Sky Lynx attempts to peer through, "Hrmpf... bloody large place this is. I'd think it's ill advised to just barge on through as I'd usually do, Rodimus." The dinobird settles down on the window ledge, opens his boarding hatch and allows his passengers to time to get off before attempting to dig his paw down into the gap between the window, "I dare say that I should be able to open this thing with some effort." Rodimus Prime disembarks from Sky Lynx, standing on the ledge outside the window. He peers in, seeing the giant Guardian robot within... one that looks considerably less giant in these surroundings. "Great," he mutters, looking up at the window, then inside. He crouches and slips his fingers beneath the window. "Well, we'll try it this way, but if this guy has a house alarm, it's going to come to the same thing in the end, anyway." Rodimus has not yet noticed the OTHER shuttle coming up behind him. Frenzy has arrived. Strike Eagle looks ready to turn around and head back down the hall, until a familiar, decidedly chappy voice catches his attention. "Hey... hey!" He never thought he'd be happy to see the snarky, egotistical dinobird. And Roddy too, hooray! Clearly the 'bots love their faction members more. Fairway follows Raid's gaze to the window where Rodimus and 'chappy' SkyLynx have appeared. "Primus smiles," he laughs, "How did they find us?" He begins a clumsy climb up toward the window, knocking over a pencil box in his mad scramble to meet his comrades. Frenzy is on aboard Blast Off, just walking from one side to the other, waiting. "Why did they bring me here? Well, as long as there is a fight with the Autodopes, then I'll be fine." Robotic Bald Eagle finds himself annoyed that the other Decepticons haven't acknowledged him yet, so he fires a warning shot at them! "HEY! Hey. Hey! HEYYyyyyy. He--" Snapping his head towards the window, he gasps as Rodimus Prime and Sky Lynx approach the window! He scuttles down behind the Guardian's head and waits. Payloader finds all the displays pretty interesting. He sets himself and perhaps Bonecrusher down on one shelf. Might as well take a look at them while waiting for the white knights to arrive. And what are these lenses? They look awfully... familiar. Just smaller. Hmm! The totally unassuming lime green payloader unfolds to become Scrapper, the architect of destruction! Oh look. Autobots. Blast Off bites back the first instinct to simply blast them before they spot him. As much as he'd -love- to, getting into a fight with so little backup available would be a foolish endeavour. Maybe -after- the resuce, they can shoot them in the back and strand them here Instead he just pulls up and lands at the opposite end of the sill. "Great, the riffraff are already here. Shame this appears to be the only appropriate accessable point." At least now Frenzy can get out and stop pacing circles in his cargobay. Bonecrusher lands with a thumb on the shelf, looking like a bright green Hummel. Now that the business at hand has been revealed, Fusillade homes in on Blast Off's location, now that the business at hand has been revealed. With a faintly regretful sigh of air over intakes, she gives one last nose-dive and disruptor pop on the rump of confused giant dog that cowers in the bushes (), and then flies over closer to the window. "Hey Auto-Jerks," she makes no attempt to hide her presence as she swooshes by and appoints herself leader, unannounced. "Just bust in there already, snap that window open. They ARE in there, right?" "Damn it," Rodimus growls as Decepticons land on the sill. "NOT the best way to start this out." Still, he doesn't take time to fight them - there's some rescuing to be done! Instead, he lifts the window open, making it completely unnecessary for the Decepticons to break in through the glass! Although, knowing Decepticons, they might do that, anyway. He crouches down, spying Fairway clambering his way up towards him. "Fairway!" he shouts, then grins. "You can thank Sandstorm! He got his beacon into that Guardian!" And as Scrapper touches the lenses...well, something happens. The device on the deactivated robot flares to life, glowing with otherworldly light! The words aren't heard so much as...felt. And then, the device separates from its deactivated host, at which point it begins to zip around the room! Meanwhile, beneath Americon's feet...the Guardian robot's faceplate glows red, cycling to peer expectantly at Fairway and Air Raid! Uh oh. Frenzy stops his pacing when he feels Blast Off has land somewhere on some sort of hard surface. "Finally! I was getting sick of walking around here doing nothing, but thanks for the ride, Blasty." He opens the door of the shuttle and jumps off, landing on the sill upon impact. Redshift looks a little worse for wear, but still functional. He activates his anti-gravs, lifting up alongside Scrapper, who is looking at some of the displayed 'figures'. "Huh. What d'you thi-- HEY!" Redshift exclaims, stumbling back a hover-step as the... WHATEVER they are go zipping around the room. "What was -that-?" Strike Eagle hastily flies up to land on the inner sill, and transforms, reaching to help Fairway up the rest of the way. "Good ole' Sandy," he replies cheerily, then flinches as a voice booms loudly enough to rattle dental manifolds. "...Let's uh, hurry up and scram." Air Raid folds and compacts, transforming into his robot mode. '*Creak. Creak Creeeeeeak* It's a good thing that the Autobot rescue team consists of two of their physically strongest members in the faction, otherwise the would be rescuers would have been foiled by an EVIL window that stands between them and their abducted comrades inside. "Urgh... there we go, nothing too much for us sturdy bunch to handle." Sky Lynx musters out the words as he wedges his body underneath the window base, using his "large" body to support against the weight in order to allow the Autobot leader to pass through. "Loud and simple minded as always, the lot of you. By all means, play the fool and get more of your inferior kinds abducted. It'd make my day." Sky Lynx snorts back before leaping down to the table beneath, as he carries on with little care for the Decepticon rescuers. Scrapper looks quite, quite taken aback as the lense speaks to him... inside his head, no less! That usually only happens to him during a merge. Am pinwheeling back for a moment, he gets a grip on himself, and exclaims, "C'mon, let's go get that thing!" It's shiny and it flies. Maybe he can put it in a laser! The lure of mad science is enough for him to temporarily forget about both Autobots and rescue alike. Bonecrusher hops off the shelf and floats ponderously after Scrapper like a green balloon. Slow Constructicon is slow. Robotic Bald Eagle peers around the Guardian's head at the other Decepticons, still rather upset they haven't acknowledged him, and is about to blast them something good. But then, finally, he receives some acknowledgement over the radio, and an order, no less! With an un-eagle like CAWWW, he launches off of the Guardian's head and chases after the flying lens, trying to snatch it with his beak! Fairway never thought he'd be so thankful for the intervention of a Wrecker. He accepts Raid's hand up and finally attains the windowsill. "Indeed," he says, "a thuggish lot they may be, but one cannot but appreciate Sandstorm's forethought in this instance." He jumps then, startled badly at the sound of the guardian. He then makes as if to push Raid toward the open window. "I could not agree more," he says of Raid's last suggestion. Space Shuttle sighs, redelegated to playing space taxi. He'll just entertain himself keeping a sensor on the Autobots and wait for a chance to snipe one in the backside. Meanwhile he taxis to the other side of the window once its open, mainly so he can shout at the other Decepticons. "Would you baffoons get your actuators out of your exhaust manifolds and get up here so we can get off this tackily oversized planet before that pathetic nerd comes back." Rodimus Prime narrows his optics. "Be ready to take off fast, Sky Lynx, but..." he draws his photon eliminator from subspace, watching the Guardian turn towards them, "I don't like the look of whatever that is Scrapper just sent flying. Who /knows/ what kinds of weapons this Collector kept as 'toys'?" Rarely does Redshift get a chance to showcase his unmatchable robot mode flight speed, and the red speedster zips off, leaving Scrapper and Bonecrusher in his proverbial dust. Faster than even a formula-1 racecar going 'round the track, Redshift's jets propel him around the room, his hand outstretched towards one of the zooming flying... Things. And...Scrapper is able to catch the odd disc-shaped device! Or perhaps did the thing catch HIM? It swerves about in midair- and then twists to *CLONG!* into the center of his chest, sticking there- is the thing magnetic? It pulses again- perhaps in tune with the energon flowing through Scrapper's conduits? Meanwhile, as Fairway and Air Raid make for the door...the Guardian ponderously moves in front of them. "RETURN TO YOUR DESIGNATED DISPLAY CASE." it rumbles. The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. After transforming, Fusillade flicks optics and cants her head to the side as she assesses the security drones and the Guardian robot. "Hey, I know, why don't you two try entertaining each other with who can use the most ridiculously pompous, over-blown words in a single sentence, Blast-Off, Sky Lynx?" She sashays over to the edge of the windowsill, and props hands on hips as she tch and shakes her head at the mess. "Well, Rodimus, how many of those lens things have you counted, and how many of those blasted Guardians does that snot-nosed brat actually have?" Her gaze is fixed pointed on the one that Americon was addressing. Scrapper is a poor flier, but he transforms and chugs along through the air after the lense. He needs it for mad science! Against all odds, it zips back toward him, and he transforms again to catch it with his hands, because his shovel might break it - but it slams into his chest instead. There is actually visible knockback where Scrapper hangs in the air. A little woozily, he murmurs, "Oh, that's quite strange. I'll... need my notepad..." Bonecrusher floats into the path of one of the zinging crystal devices and catches it against his chest with a grunt. "I got one! I... don't know what to do with it." He looks at it, scowling. Robotic Bald Eagle pouts as he is somehow too slow to catch the lens before it clamps onto Scrapper instead of being caught like an obedient little trinket. "Oh, well. Welp, guess I gotta kill Scrapper takes control of--GAH!" Then, ANOTHER lens slams into his own chest, and Americon is hurled into the wall, which he bounces off of. "OOF!" he grunts as he steadies himself in the air. "Ow. Uh..." Air Raid is pushed by Fairway only to stop and stare. He isn't rightly sure what to make of things. Well, he thinks all of this is rather awesome, or he would, if he weren't actually terrified of getting captured again. A disc flies towards him, and he instinctively tries to duck it, but, er, ends up catching it instead. He looks up and down between it and the Guardian. "..." It then snaps to his chest, and he paws at it frantically. "Gah!" Rodimus Prime drops his photon eliminator on the windowsill as two bolts of light suddenly approach from the thing Scrapper had been messing with! He instinctively reaches out his hands and closes them around them, then frowns as they both seem to go inactive in his hands. "At least two," he mutters. "And for that, I'm hoping only one!" he adds. "We'll have to figure these things out later... Fairway, Air Raid, get on board Sky Lynx. I don't expect a second fight with that Guardian to go any better than the first!"====================[ Lense Artifact: #9589 ]=====================
It's a small, perfectly clear lense, about the size of a sheriff's badge, were an average-sized Transformer to hold it. It feels warm to the touch, almost alive. No inspection can find any flaws, and the material is something hard and unknown. To anyone who saw the giant lenses in Mexico or in the past, it looks quite similar, only much, much smaller. This is a "lense artifact" object. It works sort of like a booster in that it can give you abilities when activated. It is also sort of like a weapon object in that it gives you special attacks. Check out '+help Boosters' and '+help WeaponObject' Usage Restriction: ANYONE Can You Use It?: Yes Boost Type: Abilities Remaining: 3 of 3 Charges (Not Rechargeable) Activated?: No Power: 50===============[ See +help boosters for commands ]================
Frenzy watches, and watches... and watches.. until he sees Scrapper and that unknown, silver protectile collide into each other. "What the heck is that? Well, I better go see what he needs." He jumps off the sill and starts up his hovering component, hastely going towards Scrapper. Freanzy, however, does not know what that silver porjectile can do, but it is better to check Scrapper out than to stand there doing nothing. Upon reaching Scrapper, he stops about two feet away from him and says, "You need any help, Scrapper? I'm bored here doing nothing." Redshift chases down one of the speedily-zipping objects, his thrusters straining as the lens flies faster and faster. But, just as his fingers are about to close around it at last, the gleaming object reverses flight, flinging itselt into Redshift's chest. He tumbles briefly, fingers scrabbling to try and remove the lens from his chest. "SCRAPPER! What's going on?" A disc comes whirling straight at Fairway's head, and he gets his hand up just in time to catch it, though he recoils from it as if he fears that it might detonate. Luckily it doesn't. What it does, however, is stick to him as if magnetized. Trying to get it off of his hand only results in his somehow getting the disc stuck to his metal goatee. "Terrific." He frowns and turns toward the window as the Omega Sentinel approaches. Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Conspiracy has bonded with Scrapper! Bonecrusher accepts that he has this thing stuck to him and floats off towards the windowsill Blast Off and Fusillade (and a host of other people Bonecrusher isn't as glad to see) touched down on. "We better get outta here before that Guardian makes a Federal case about this. We ain't got the firepower to deal with that." Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Malice has bonded with Redshift! Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Intimidation has bonded with Bonecrusher! Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Determination has bonded with Air Raid! Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Discovery has bonded with Fairway! Space Shuttle lets out another exasperated sigh, and as seeing they're not going to just be picking up their allies and leaving like they had hoped, transforms. "You lugnuts, what did you do -this- time?" While drawing out his ionic disruptor as he doesn't like the look of those things zipping around.... Or all the other potential heavy hardware littered about the room if its still active. The shuttle unfolds as its size compresses down to form layers of armor, wings folding up as limbs and a head emerge, and Blast Off now stands hauntily in robot mode. Sky Lynx turns around to take a look at the Guardian that Rodimus Prime is refering to, "Not to worry, Rodimus, I'll keep my engines primed. Although at this point I'm more concerned about how we're going to deal with the bloody pet Guardian that this collector has standing around." The Autobot lieutenant commander watches as the whole spectacle of Rodimus catching... whatever it is that the Autobot leader had caught, "What in the blazes was -that?-" Combat: Lense Artifact Lense of Intimidation has bonded with Robotic Bald Eagle ! Fusillade snaps out wingblades, and holds them up like semaphore flags, before bellowing, "'EY! Getcher skidplates over here and quit clowning around with that thing! We gotta GO!" Scrapper touches his hand to his lense, trying to think about what in the blazes it might be for... and he simply vanishes from view. This is very hard, considering, that he's bright green and purple. But sure enough, he's gone! The message is repeated several times over as the strange devices seal themselves to their new owners! But that may be something that has to wait, for the Guardian Sentinel finally spurs into action- it swings its clawed hand downward, aiming to ensnare Fairway- even as its head swivels around, the turret-ponytail raising to snap off a blast at Redshift! Fusillade's shoulders sag as she watches Scrapper disappear. Rodimus Prime looks down at the things... lenses of some sort in his hand. Flawless, perfect, and clear, and, in his case, obviously inactive compared with those who've found 'suitable hosts.' "I've really got no ide- Fairway, look out!" he shouts as he dives, trying to grab Fairway out of the path of the Guardian! "What, again?" grumbles Bonecrusher as Scrapper poofs off to, no doubt, some other horrible planet that Bonecrusher will hate. What?! That is the expression on Frenzy's face when he sees Scrapper disappearing out of thin air. "Where are you Scrapper? You just.. you just vanished!" He starts hovering around where Scrapper should be, mystified. Fusillade turns around, paces toward the edge of the windowsill, and buggers off. Fusillade leans forward, wingblades whipping out to their full span, even as her arms lock backward in place as the rear fuselage. Her torso folds out to the become the cockpit of a space capable B-1R Lancer, ready for flight! Combat: Space-Going B-1R Lancer begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Fusillade vanishes out of reality. Fusillade has left. Air Raid tentatively steps towards Sky Lynx, optics wide. Scrapper vanishes into thin air! Before Raid can cheer, the Guardian lurches for Fairway. Raid attempts to draw his rifle, but of course, the 'cons have confiscated it. "Doc!" Redshift's optics fall upon the activating Guardian robot below, ordering him to 'return to his display case'. Words bounce around inside his head, the word HOST being most disconcerting. He has no time to reply to Fusillade or Blast Off's exasperated exclaimations when the Guardian opens fire! Redshift, even damaged and with a... thing stuck to him, is no slouch in the speed department, and flis away from the incoming powerful laser blast. "Leave? NOT YET! not while that overblown self-important SPACE NERD still has his slaggin' Guardian. He has to learn what happens when you MESS with the Decepticons!" Bonecrusher waves his arms by Blast Off. "Quit messin' around! That Guardian's shootin' at people already!" Bonecrusher obviously has a healthy respect for those things. Upon Blast's plea to escape this place, Frenzy hovers towards Blast Off to board on him. On his way to Blast, however, Frenzy mumbling to himself, obviously in disappointment. Fairway's jumpjets are only know showing up in the yellow on his HUD. Even the quickest of bursts will send them back into the red and them leave useless in mandatory cooldown. He activates them as the guardian lunges, and, as predicted, gets less than a fraction of a second of use out of them before they overheat and start to vent. He gets just far enough away to avoid being snared, but still ends up being whacked silly and crumples in a heap. Scrapper flicks back into view, unharmed. His hand drops away from his chest, but the lense is still stuck there. He observes, "Fascinating! It must modulate the bandwidth gap of my molecules. But if it can adjust molecular structure, it must be able to be applied in other fashions..." Right now, Scrapper still really fragging hates that Guardian, not as much as Bonecrusher, but a lot. The lense seems to pick up on that hate, and as Scrapper shakes a fist at the Guardian, his hand unfolds, pointing - and a beam zots out! Combat: Scrapper sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Scrapper strikes Guardian with Lense of Conspiracy's Lense Flare attack! There is also a terrible Photoshop effect. Rodimus Prime's attempt at rescuing Fairway proves completely pointless, but hey, that's all right. It just proves that his men are competent on their own. He puts both the inactive lenses into one hand and runs back along the sill, snatching up his photon eliminator before running towards Sky Lynx. "Come on gu-" and then Scrapper re-appears and fires at the Guardian. "What the-" Blast Off just buries his face in one hand, first at Fusillade, and then the other Decepticons in general. Why does he always get stuck with the missions like this? Totally not surprised they'd rather fight than just leave, even when there's a big 'toy' Guardian sitting in middle of the room and they're surrounded by Autobots in general. And for as much as it wounds his ego to consider it, leadership is -not- his thing. Dammit Fusillade.... Finally he just throws both his hands in the air in fustration. "FINE! I don't care what the slag you idiots do, just do it already so we can get this horrible mockery of a rescue mission over with!" Air Raid clenches his fists as something proverbially hits him. This lense thing wields power! Now to just try and /use/ it. As soon as Fairway is more or less clear, he grits his dentals and hopes for the best... but it seems Scrapper is dealing with the Guardian. For once, he decides against unnecessary battle and moves to hoist Fairway up by an arm. "Prime says we gotta' split!" Robotic Bald Eagle pokes at his lense with a frown. "Man, my lense sucks. Well, at least I don't have to worry about tossing into a giant volcano so that I don't become some craven creature of the night and risk bringing back one of the great evils of the world." However, as Blast Off continues to nag at him and the other Decepticons, it distracts Americon from his reverie, and the little tapeformer glares up at Blast Off up on the windowsill (or wherever he is). "SHUT THE HELL UP OR I WILL INCINERATE WITH A MIGHTY BLAST!!!" Americon booms as his appearance somehow changes--shadows seem to gather round him, and the light from his optics increases, such that they appear to be the primary source of light across his body. Not only that, but it seems almost as if his body has become *spikier,* like a monster, or maybe that Decepticonz movie Michael Bay was forced to make. With a horrible screech, Americon turns towards the Guardian, and, his rage pouring into the lens, it blasts out a beam of darkness straight at it! "JUST LIKE THAT!" There's still a crappy lens flare, though. Sky Lynx cruises forward to join up with the rest of the Autobots, seeing as the Guardian seems to be firmly focused on making evacuation difficult for the would be rescuers. The dinobird lands, claws from all four mechanical paws digging deep into the material underneath his feet as he braces against the landing, "Quite standing around gawking at the bloody Guardian and get on over before these Decepticons hooligans muck things up even further." As if to assure the other abductees that their commanders have things perfectly under control, Sky Lynx turns his head around and opens his gaping maw to fire his acetylene blaster at the Guardian. Of course, the effort yields little result, but hey, don't blame Sky Lynx for trying to keep his subordinates calm and motivated. Combat: Robotic Bald Eagle strikes Guardian with Lense of Intimidation's Lense Flare attack! '*ZORT!* Scrapper's blast tears straight THROUGH the guardian, leaving a gaping hole! Oh my. Still, the titan is not to be stopped THAT easily- and it rakes its cannon arm across the room, spitting out laser blasts towards those collectibles that would dare strike it! Still, its movements are slow, and the holes from the blasts cause the thing to smoke and sputter- what powerful weapons have the Decepticons discovered? Combat: Guardian strikes Scrapper with his Laser Barrage Area attack! Combat: You took 11 damage. Combat: Guardian strikes Redshift with his Laser Barrage Area attack! Combat: Guardian strikes Robotic Bald Eagle with his Laser Barrage Area attack! Combat: Guardian strikes Sky Lynx with his Laser Barrage Area attack! Redshift's new bling shimmers as his hatred of the giant space nerd- and his collection- rises. "That pompous giant FOOL thinks he can treat US like mere toys? He will pay for his hubris..." Redshift says, voice dripping with malice. The lens's shimmer grows, and a beam of distorted light flashes out towards the massive, mildy perforated Guardian Combat: Redshift sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Redshift strikes Guardian with Lense of Malice's Destabilizing Blast attack! Combat: That attack has temporarily limited Guardian's Agility! (Crippled) Combat: Sky Lynx misses Guardian with his Laser attack! Rodimus Prime's optics open wide as the Decepticon attacks rip through a Guardian robot that his own best shot did little more than dang. "That is... not good," he observes quietly, shaking his head before bolting towards Sky Lynx. Scrapper crows, "Ah-hah! Take that, subcrystalline molecular structure! How'd you like that forcible rearrangement?" Scrapper needs to work on his quips. Oh wait... is the bus leaving? Scrapper wails, "Hey, wait up! I needed to do some empirical field testing!" As Scrapper runs, a large blast slices through his damage-prone shovel, and he bellows in pain! But... he reaches a conclusion, and he flies back toward the lenses are stored! These are potent weapons, and the Decepticons must have them all! Air Raid finds that, no, he can't go without firing off /some/thing. So he turns and attempts to aim; it's a tad different than aiming a pistol. He shan't go for a silly Photoshop filter though. With a look of say, determination, he's bathed in light as a beam lances out towards the Guardian. Whether it hits or not, it's sure to leave him staggering. Combat: Air Raid misses Guardian with Lense of Determination's Obliteration Beam attack! Blast Off calmly scoots to the edge of the window, pressing up against the windowframe when the Guardian starts shooting wildly. "Morons..." he mutters under his breath... Yet, the others seem to be having an effect on it. Hmmm. He leans out a little again, looks down at the Guardian, up at the ceiling of the room, then down again. "Hmmm..." He lifts his ionic blaster, takes careful aim, and shoots at the strings keeping one of those 'model' fighters suspending to cut it free and send it crashing down on top of the Guardian. "Whoah," grunts Bonecrusher, watching everybody freak out and unleash crazy powers. "Are you guys okay?" He seems reluctant to try to activate his own lenses' power. Bonecrusher is used to relying on his fists. Combat: Blast Off strikes Guardian with his Making a Model of An Aircraft Crash (Laser) attack! Robotic Bald Eagle , suddenly appearing perfectly normal, shrugs at everyone as they give him odd looks. "What? Geeze, you guys looked like you didn't recognize me." ZAP! The Guardian's return fire, knocks him out of the air, though, and he flops to the ground. Transforming into robot mode, he refocuses his rage on the one who dared harm him! "YOU DARE STRIKE ME IN A MOMENT OF DISTRACTION!?" he booms, his image becoming spiky and shadowy again, his entire body again cast in the red glow of his own optics. An unseen baby cries in the background. "FOR THIS YOU WILL SUFFER A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH... IN AMERICA!" And another beam of dark... light... uh... BLACK LIGHT streaks out from his lens as Americon funnels his patriotic fury into it! Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Fairway regains his footing at last and staggers toward the window. While wanton destruction isn't exactly his cup of tea (nor does he drink tea), he bristles when the guardian looks almost as if it may be thinking about attacking again. He activates his new weapons system. A heartwarming blue beam flows out of him, emanating from his...goatee. Heroic. Combat: Fairway misses Guardian with Lense of Discovery's Lense Flare attack! Combat: Americon strikes Guardian with his Uber-Hate attack! Frenzy waits there on the sill with his arms folded, watching the battle. "Man, this is taking so long and I'm so bored right now. I could be there helping them.. but that thing isn't an Autobot, just some stupid, mindless 'toy' thing." He continues to watch the fight, sighing to himself before taking out his pistol and trying to hit the faraway 'toy'. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to try some target practicing," he says after shooting. Combat: Frenzy misses Guardian with his Pistol attack! Scrapper is not the most observant fellow, tending to get rather absorbed in whatever he happens to be working on, to the exclusion of all else. So, looking around, he realises that all the lenses are gone, and he exclaims, "There were more than just those four - the Autobots must have them!" Then, the Autobots do try to zap the Guardian, and Scrapper feels very foolish. "Oh, right." Americon is back to normal, too. How strange! As normal as Americon gets - and no, spiky again. Scrapper muses, "I think that can distract the Guardian. Then we can properly run away. Let me see..." He shoots off a wibbly-wobbly hypno-beam at the Guardian. Combat: Scrapper strikes Guardian with Lense of Conspiracy's Paranoia attack! Americon suddenly goes flying over Scrapper's head from the recoil of his own lense attack. "Waahhh!" More lense-blasts rack the Guardian's form- damaging it...and, perhaps more damningly, hindering its servos with otherworldly energy! The thing staggers like the world's largest drunk- finally toppling over the windowsill to *SMASH!* against the floor below! It twitches slightly...but it's not moving anytime soon. Meanwhile, in the other room, a falsetto, feminine voice asks (quite loudly) "What was that?!" Blast Off seems satisfied with having broken something, lowering his blaster. And looking up at the voice. "Okay, fine. We've broken his treasure. Let's get the Charr out of here before what that is waking up comes in here!" Transforming back into shuttle mode so the Decepticons can load up. The Combaticon folds up, yet at the same time expands several times in side, extending wings and engines to become a space shuttle. "Finally! I was getting bored up here!" Frenzy runs into the shuttle and boards it. Why did Sky Lynx's acetylene blasters do nothing? Well for starters, it's got to hit on target first for there to be any desired results. The effort isn't a complete waste though as the stream of fire sails pass the surprisingly agile Guardian and lands squarely on a collection of comics. Some where out there, there's an intergalactic nerd that's silently weeping over this senseless destruction of prized valuables. The Autobot lieutenant commander speaks into his radio momentarily before a pair of large laser bolt smashes into his side, leaving the armour plating where it had struck glowing yellow with heat, and cause him to brace his legs against the ground in order to resist the force of the impact. "Well, it looks like the Decepticons have gotten the Guardians taken care of." Sky Lynx comments reluctantly before moving into position to pick up the rest of the Autobots. If one were to look back, they'd see the four heavy foot imprints on the table. The Guardian is definitely no slouch. A snap hiss can be heard as the transport compartment on Sky Lynx's side unlocks and slides open, while the massive Autobot kneels down for the passengers to get on board. Sky Lynx's boarding hatch clicks as it unlocks itself. Air Raid looks a fair bit crestfallen as he totally misses his mark, and naturally blames it on his lense. Oh well. At least Fairway missed too! Well, that doesn't help their situation. He continues to aim from the sill, crouching this time, only to watch the Guardian topple down to its demise. "Well then!" He turns and heads up Sky Lynx's ramp. Rodimus Prime isn't so bloodthirsty as Redshift, but he still wants to see the Guardian taken down for an entirely different reason: it's best if the 'Collector' doesn't think of the Autobots as collectibles, and this should help dissuade him from that thought. When the thing falls, Rodimus shouts, "It's down! All right, guys, out of here!" He stands to the side of Sky Lynx's hatch, waving the others in. Once Air Raid and Fairway are on board, he follows up behind them. "Gun it, Sky Lynx," he orders once on board. Fairway misses every bit as spectacularly as the Aerialbot! Some shelf-bound bric-a-brac feels the shiny, pastel wrath of his brand new beard beam. He's about to take another shot with his rifle this time, when the guardian seems to slump. That's his cue, and he doesn't miss it. He follows Raid up the ramp and boards Sky Lynx. Bonecrusher climbs into Blast Off and whistles sharply for Scrapper and the others, waving an arm. "Cheese it, youse guys! It's the fuzz!" Americon, as himself again, flies inside of Blast Off's open cargohold with a WHOOSH! "Boy, that was kinda scary!" he says. Victory is theirs! Oh, if only they could do that to Omega Supreme! In triumph, he transforms and... runs away, because Bonecrusher is right. As he barrels towards Blast Off's inviting bay, he shouts, "Make room!" Scrapper cleverly disguises himself as a bright green payloader. No one will ever suspect! Combat: Payloader begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Space Shuttle , Redshift, and Sky Lynx Redshift eyes the escaping Autobots, his LENS still brimming with energy, his face still twisted in a visage of hate. But, already he can feel the lens has been lessened somehow, and he feels it should not be wasted further on an unimportant scuffle. He flashes a glare at Rodimus Prime, and stomps aboard his own shuttle. Bonecrusher ducks in and hangs onto one of the overhead straps to make room for Scrapper to sit down, since Scrapper's the boss and also the head of Polyhex Local #604, a notable honor in its own right. "Looking forward to that canal an' the tiny li'l slave humans. Gonna feel pretty good to sink my blade into some good soft dirt an' boss around an organic what ain't a million times bigger'n me." Rodimus Prime has left. Rodimus Prime steps off of the turbolift and into the bridge. Air Raid has left. Air Raid steps off of the turbolift and into the bridge. Fairway has left. Fairway steps off of the turbolift and into the bridge. Space Shuttle doesn't bother with any more witty remarks towards the Autobots, now's not the time to waste tossing insults at the enemy. Once all the other Cons are packed up inside he closes the hatch, fires up his engines and takes off. FWOOOSH! It's a little close quarters in there, but it's better than being locked up in some glass case for the rest of your life, right? "Hang tight everyone!" Sky Lynx calls out as the trio of rockets behind him powers up and propels his massive body frame airborne. The massive dinobird cruises straight for the window, but not before shooting off several more bursts of flames at any potentially valuable collections in between the path. After the wanton act of destruction is complete and his vindictive nature satisfied, Sky Lynx bursts through the windows and off to home. Where ever the heck that is, since Sky Lynx's player has NO idea how to get back. Combat: Sky Lynx begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Space Shuttle and Redshift Combat: Space Shuttle begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Frenzy goes home. Frenzy has left. Blast Off goes home. Blast Off has left. Americon has left. ================================= Decepticon ================================= Message: 2/153 Posted Author AAR: The Private Reserve Sun Jan 31 Scrapper ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It's Scrapper! And he has a small lense stuck to his chest. He keeps poking at it, and then he looks up. Startled, he sputters, "Oh, I'm on camera? Right! So, Fusillade, Blast Off, and Frenzy rescued Bonecrusher, Redshift, Americon, and I from the giant alien known as the Collector. He had collected many species and kinds of weaponry and was fond of making dioramas don't ask Redshift - and kitbashing. Anyway, so, the Autobots also rescued their guys, phooey, but. BUT. We brought home these lense things, and I can use mine to adjust my bandwidth gap and disappear!" He vanishes. Scrapper then flickers back into view. "I can also shoot stuff with it, but... the thing seems to only have a limited charge. So I need to conduct further research!" His voice drops, "And maybe the Autobots have some lenses, too. But they have terrible aim? Uhm. Now let me get back to my canal. Scrapper, out." Spinny. ==============================================================================
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