| abstract
| - Summary: Outburst orders the Decepticons to capture biosamples of Earth's wildlife for Thunderwing. A squad of Decepticons travels to Yellowstone park to kidnap some rare eagles. Can the Autobots stop them, or is extinction forever? Ah, Yellowstone Park. Home of great natural beauty, of fertile plains, forests and high peaks, where the American Eagle, America's icons fly! They sweep across the tops and live in little nests, and feed forest worms to their little eagle chicks. But today is a day like none other, for the Decepticon Blueshift blasts across the sky, making as much noise on his journey as possible. "Soon!" he cackles! "Soon, the Eagles will be ours!" Atop one of the peaks, is a mountineering party with guitars strapped to their backs. For they are the rock band The Eagles. Will something terrible happen? Behind the femmey blue robot is Pitchfork, who adjusts his clearly-non-adjustable robo shades as he flies, the tuning fork on his head vibrating quietly. "Eghn, Blueshift. The only thing worse than a geyser is a geyser that's old... and faithful. Nothing worthwhile has been old or fiathful since Sentinel Prime cheated on Soundwave with Warmonger," he murmurs, quite a bit behind Blueshift in the db department. In one of those incredibly unlikely coincidences, Markdown just so happens to be traveling through Yellowstone Park right this moment. "Wow!" he exclaims. "They don't have anything like this on Cybertron! Now, I know the other bots said that Earth was different, but boy... you really gotta see it to believe it!" As he passes by other cars on the road, he muses, "They oughta be charging the humans a FORTUNE to wander around in here!" Soaring the the air on a typical patrol, Strafe cuts through the skies at incredible speeds, the engines of his jetcargrillhovercraft roaring with life. Sleek red and white form veering upwards at the sign of the forests and mountains, he seems to be well on his way to simply passing across Yellowstone with nary a care in the world... until he spots something odd: something blazing through the sky a fair distance away, with another close behind. Two far away to get a good look in order to identify, Strafe begins to slow down. <> But, in order to confirm his raging suspicions, he begins blasting off closer towards the two Decepticons, simultaneously broadcasting over close-range radio frequencies: <> Blueshift, the vilest of vile Decepticons transforms to robot mode, hovering in the air above the mountainous region, surveying the area. "Warmonger, Pitchfork!" he cries. "Do... do any of you know what an Eagle looks like? How do we trap this beast?" He starts to fire random shots off at tourists, rocks falling down the mountainside as he does so, endangering the humans climbing there Did somebody say WAR(zone)?! As if on cue, the irrepressible Warmonger looks up, sharp optics squinting towards the approaching... flying vehicle, whatever it is. Completely ignoring Blueshift, as is his wont, he fulfills his solemn duty as a Decepticon Jet and... POINTS at Strafe. "AUTOBOTS!" he cries, millenia of professional hatred hoarsening his voice. "They DARE to impinge upon our SACRED duties! Their AUDACITY will be... THEIR DOOM! For I, WARMONGER, stand fast in their path, defending those who carry out the orders of our BELOVED leaders!" "Um, no. I once saw a Gordanian Cyber-Eagle play fourteen lunar-guitars at once, and that was before it was cool. Now that stuff's all over the place... but I doubt this planet's heard of it yet. So, let me google it in my brain..." Pithcfork puts two fingers up to the side of his head, "Eagles are large birds of prey which mainly inhabit Eurasia and Africa. Outside this area, just two species (the Bald and Golden Eagles) are found in North America north of Mexico, with a few more species in Central and South America, and three in Australia. God, that sounds lame. Why are we wastign our time with something so... uncool?" H12 Hummer exclaims, "Huh? Decepticons? Here? What are they doing, sight-seeing? Well, crap." Markdown immediately veers off into a dusty side-path, tires throwing up gravel. As he nears the mountain being attacked, he grumbles, "Damn, look up there! They're attacking those mountain climbers? Why are they doing that? Well, doesn't matter, I gotta save 'em!" Eventually the path is blocked by a forest, and Markdown transforms, pushes his way roughly through the trees until he reaches the mountain's base, where he immediately starts climbing up. "Hold on, humans! I'm coming to help!" "The Decepticons must be stopped. No matter the cost," Rodimus Prime says to no one in particular, his optics focused on the distant horizon as he receives the plaintive SOS over the Autobot communications frequency. Transforming in slow motion, he hits the ground with all wheels spinning, zooming down the highway to intercept his eternal nemeses. "On second thought, Hoist," he says, slowing down so the other Autobot can catch up, "Scratch the 'no matter the cost' bit. Let's see what they're up to, first." "Okay. I'm g-gonna be calm for this. Keep a level head, d-don't start freaking out over n-nothing..." Strafe assures himself in a continuous mantra as he flies ever-closer to what appears to be a pack of Seekers and what is clearly, from his different design, a Seeker Leader or something. "O-OH GOD--no, gotta keep calm, keep in control-- OH MY GOD THEY SPOTTED ME!!" Shrieking this out in sheer shock, Strafe soars UPWARDS with a sudden, violent jerk of his body upwards. "I'M GONNA DIE I'M GONNA DIE I'M GONNA--" This new mantra is soon overpowered as Strafe's golden photon blasters flare to life, beginning to fire off massive bolts of blinding light at... well... everything in the sky. With no particular target or attempt at control, Strafe just about shoots down a RAIN of firepower. Fortunately the other Autobots aren't here yet, because he certainly wouldn't stop for that. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH DIE D-D-D-DECEPTICON SCUM!!" Strafe unleashes his SWEET JESUS!!! attack on Warmonger, Blueshift and Pitchfork, striking Pitchfork. "Probably no good, as usual, Rodi-" Hoist watches as a rain of fire goes down on the Decepticons. "... well, then, shall I assume the element of surprise is already ours." He sighs, and mentally prepares himself for a skirmish. "We are doing this!" Blueshift shouts at Pitchfork. "Because Galvatron has given an executive order to Outburst, and so any words he says are as if they come from the mighty fist of Galvatron himself!" He starts to fire down at the Autobots as they approach, and then gets a better idea. "Hah, deal with this, if you can, Auto fools! They cannot fly remember!" And with that, he shoots at the mountaineers, who start to scream as they slip, and end up hanging off the mountainside by a rope. And then he clings to the peak of the mountain like some bizzaro King Kong, starting to throw rocks down at the Autobots You strike Flamin' Winnebago with Awesomely Huge Rock. So many f'ing lasers hit Pitchfork that his wood paneling is now laser paneling, which is awesome until he realizes it hurts. "OWW! Damn you, Autobot! Firing that many lasers at once hasn't been 'in' since I watched Tron last night on fast forward. On /beta max/ to be /ironic/." From subspace, he pulls out a gun that looks exactly like Megatron use to look in pistol mode, except for it's plaid. He fires an awesome Green Laser at Strafe. Pitchfork strikes Hover Jet Car?!!? with Megatron Pistol - Green Laser. Warmonger scowls as the barrage of lasers plunks down all around him. Miraculously he, WARMONGER, emerges from the firestorm completely unscathed. "Wasteful FOOL!" Warmonger cries. He just /hates/ people who waste ammo. He turns his head fractionally. "Blueshift, you are the least useful Decepticon here. Go up there and engage this impractical interloper. Perhaps you can distract him long enough for us to secure this... EAGLE creature and make our escape." Warmonger pauses as Blueshift begins his attack on the moutaineers and Pitchfork assaults Strafe. He shrugs, and resumes searching for an eagle. "I, WARMONGER, shall complete our objective!" He begins to shake trees at random. "EAGLE CREATURE! COME FORTH AND FACE ME! FACE YOUR DOOM!" Birds begin to fly up and Warmonger flails his hands at them. "YOU ARE NOT EAGLES GO AWAY." Markdown grunts as he hefts himself up from one handhold to the next. Some Autobots would find this tiring, but Markdown was built with a strong body and can easily take the strain. But as the mountain climbers dangle from their rope, he shouts, "Just hang on! I'll get there as soon as I can!" So the capitalist picks up his pace, hoisting himself higher and harder, occasionally stopping to press himself up against the mountain face as boulders fall down. "--that damned blue jerk!--" <> is all Strafe can manage from Pitchfork's angry tirade. The Green Laser strikes the underside of the hovermatic super jetcar with burning fury, sending a deep hole into the exterior armor. <> The shrill command is accentuated as Strafe transforms in mid-air and begins a free-fall, straight towards Pitchfork. Intent to land on top of the Seeker, he'll start punching his enemy in the side over and over like a pro if he can get hold. If not, it's going to be a long fall. "G-green is like, the worst color E-EVER!!" Strafe strikes Pitchfork with AAAAH Flamin' Winnebago applies his brakes as soon as rocks begin to tumble down in front of him -- but not soon enough! His front bumper smashes into one of the boulders, causing it to explode into a cloud of dust and pebbles. Fortunately, Rodimus appears to suffer not much more than a scuffed fender, though he takes the opportunity to transform. His optics scan the mountain, quickly finding the offending Decepticons. His targeting visor drops down into place and he raises one wrist, firing off a few photonic blasts. "Mountaineering in the off-season, Decepticons?" He calls out, in between laser blasts. "Watch out, Hoist -- Looks like there are some climbers up there. I want this nice and clean -- no civilian casualties!" Rodimus Prime strikes you with Photon Blast for 7 points of damage. Hoist bobs and weaves, just barely missing one of the rocks being hurled at him. "Thanks for the warning, Rodimus!" Using the momentum of the final swerve, he transforms and comes up firing out of his right arm's blaster at Blueshift. Hoist strikes you with Laser for 9 points of damage. As WARMONGER flaps at the birds, he manages to attract some eagles... as a DOZEN flock towards him, cawing and pecking at his face for being a naughty Decepticon! And as Markdown tries to rescue the climbers, they slip again, falling ever further! Oh no! As Strafe holds onto Pitchfork and starts punching him in the side, the MAS soldier frowns and realizes he can't get a fist around to pummel back. "You're cracking my /white stripes/, Autobot! Nyagh!" He's struggling to maintain anti-grav, and they're falling quickly. He aims a very awkward kick at Strafe's stomach. "Go roll in the dirt! You'll be more original!" Pitchfork strikes Strafe with kick. What is Blueshift doing? He seems to be...dancing in the sky? No, he's just getting shot by multiple lasers, which shoot nice holes through his wings. "Curse you Autobot!" he yells, clenching a fist. "Do you not remember the last time we clashed, Prime? When I sent you scurrying away?" He then points at Hoist. "And you... uh... green... crane guy. Yeah, I remember you..." He pauses, frowning. He has no idea who Hoist is. "Trailbreaker, isn't it? Well, watch me BREAK your leader!" And with that, he picks up what looks like... oh no! An eagles nest full of eggs, which he HURLS down straight at Prime's head. Rodimus Prime evades your Eagle Nest :( attack. "AGH!" Warmonger says, in reply to the cries of the eagles. "Cursed ORGANICS! Your mere EXISTENCE causes my DESPAIR in the DEPTHS OF MY NEURAL MATRIX! GRRAAAAGH!" That said, he ejects a large net from beneath his wrist, aimed at the incoming/attacking eagles. "I, WARMONGER, shall restrain you NOW and retrieve you LATER! This is called PRIORITISING!" Speaking of priorities, Warmonger turns to face the battlefield. Seeing that Blueshift is fighting overwhelming odds, he merely nods. "All is as it should be," he mutters, before aiming an arm laser at Rodimus Prime. "AUTOBOT SCUM!" he crows. "You shall not rescue any putrid fleshbags THIS day! For I, WARMONGER, shall NOT permit it!" Pew! Pew pew pew! Warmonger misses Rodimus Prime with his Arm Lasers attack. "I-I don't even get how that makes sens--AUGH!" That kick buries into Strafe's midsection with crunching strength, allowing Pitchfork to pry him off. Strafe clings in a weak attempt to keep from falling, but to no avail. "A d-d-dirty Decepticon trick!! And I feel for it! I-- OH GOD I'M FALLING!!!" Making this sudden revelation as he descends towards the ground, Strafe rapidly transforms back into his whatever the hell it is flying machine, sweeping through the air as he focuses a concentrated burst of photon beams towards Pitchfork. Or he would, were he not just shooting everywhere, hoping that one of the spots he's firing at happens to be where the Seeker is. "Y-YOU CAN'T TRICK ME!! N-NOW STAY STILL SO I CAN SHOOT YOU! GYAAAAAAAAGH!!" As if in some drug-induced craze, Strafe spasms and collapses into the form of a futuristic air-car. Strafe misses Pitchfork with his LASERS EVERYWHERE OH GOD!!! attack. Hoist is unfazed by the apparent mix-up: "I believe you have me mistaken for another handsome gent in a faceplate, old bean." he cheerily replies as he fires another laser round at Blueshift. "... though we share a similar taste in headgear!" He is also apparently unfazed that the nest of an endangered species was just used as a weapon. You evade Hoist's Laser attack. FUNCTION: Protector. SOLE PURPOSE IS TO PROTECT ALL LIFE. "Yeah, yeah, I know," Rodimus grumbles, batting at his targeting visor so that it retracts back up into his brow. He gives Blueshift a deadly scowl before diving in the direction of the wildly-flown eagle's nest, cupping it with both giant metal hands and easing its fall as his belly collides with the ground in a shower of sparks. "Nngh... There you go, little ones," he says, getting up to a crouch, examining the nest to make sure it's not all scrambled eggs. Suddenly, one of the eggs begins to crack. "Oh... no..." Rodimus mutters in dismay, just as a tiny beak pierces through the egg. "What?" The egg pops open, and a tiny, hairless birdling squints up at Rodimus. It begins to flap its little tiny wing stubs and squawk at him. Markdown grunts as he pushes himself higher up the mountain, and at last settles onto a handhold near the climbers. "Don't worry! I've got you guys." The mountain climbers scream and flail as they wobble about on the rope, which could give out at any moment! "Stay calm! I'm... almost... there... dammit, why couldn't I have longer arms?" His right arm wiggles as it reaches towards the miners. The rope keeps slipping... then... the hook securing the rope gives out, and it falls, taking everyone with it! The mountain climbers scream as they plummet to their deaths... ...that is, until Markdown catches the hook just in time! "GOTCHA!" he cries as the climbers bounce a bit on their harnesses. "Now to ease you people down..." There are so many lasers Pitchfork doesn't even bother to count them, like he usually does, because he's OCD but he can't let anyone know or his cool shades and kitchy wood paneling won't mean a thing. "Activate Google Protocol. Enter keywords: laser repellant. No non-pornographic results. Fair enough," Pitchfork says, before looking back down at Strafe. "Ugh, I hate to do this. It's overdone and everyone will think I'm just aping them, but..." a huge blue circle, followed by a small yellow circle, followed by another big red circle are emitted from Pitchfork's forehead-mounted tuning fork. Exactly what all SONIC ATTACKS look like! Pitchfork strikes Hover Jet Car?!!? with SONIC ATTACK!!. T-72 MBT rumbles down rainy and largely deserted highways towards the other Decepticons, as summoned for help in whatever ridiculous mission they're trying to carry out now. Normally he would fly, but as he has brought Brawl along with him to help, it's not as if they would be moving fast in any event. Brawl is straining himself to keep up with his brother tank, engine giving off that high (and embarassing) whine. "Gosh sir, thank you!" says one of the mountain climbers to Markdown, raising a hand to shake it. "We owe you our life. We're the rock band The Eagles." And at that comment, Blueshift's head snaps down, and he drops the eagle he was just trying to catch by the neck. "Quick!" he shouts. "Its a trick! The Autobots already have the eagles! After them!" And he starts to dive down, lasers zapping out, trying to shoot Markdown and knock him off-balance. You strike Markdown with Vernier. "How DARE you RESCUE those DISGUSTING BLOBS OF FLESH?!" Warmonger roars, distracted by Markdown's act of altruism. Blueshift streaks to the attack, and Warmonger nods in approval. "STRIKE HIM DOWN, Blueshift! STRIKE HIM DOWN WITH YOUR MIGHTY VERNIER!" He pumps a fist in a rare show of enthusiasm. Warmonger /loves/ verniers. The Decepticon Jet then turns back to the matter at hand; that is, HOIST! "Enough of THAT, Autobot truck machine! I, WARMONGER, shall dispatch you with ALL due HASTE! Feel the WRATH of the GLORIOUS DECEPTICON EMPIRE!" Swooping towards the little truck, he opens up with his most deadly (psychological) weapon. Panels in his chest slide away, and bullets begin to fire from his robotic nipples. Warmonger strikes Hoist with Nipple Vulcans. That shouting carries a long ways. Blitzwing's AA machinegun swings around alertly at the sound. "I hear Warmonger up ahead. Sounds like he's already monging some wars without us. Come on, Stubby, get the lead out," he says to Brawl, gunning his engine down the highway, treads chewing up the pavement. "He's -loud-," Brawl agrees. It might even be admiring. He rumbles along as fast as he can. "Don't be in such a hurry. You'll throw a tread," he admonishes. Soaring through the air and still firing liberally in all directions, Strafe is a sitting duck for Pitchforks sudden sonic shootout. The rippling circles of sonic energy strike Strafe, the vibrations wracking his body in pain as he soars towards the ground, forcing a transformation into robot mode mid-descent. He impacts against the ground shoulder-first with a sickening crunch, skidding across the dirt and ultimately coming to a stop. "G-guh... oh man... I think I'm gonna die..." A pause. "D-did I kill him?!" Strafe's visored gaze swings upward, just in time to see Pitchfork still hovering in mid-air, not-dead. "OH GOD! H-HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?! AAAAAAHHH HE'S I-INVINCIBLE!! INVINCIBLE... but with s-such a cliche weapon!!" As Strafe notes this surprisingly off-handedly, his twin heat rifles rip out from subspace, massive beams of high-powered heat ripping through the air and burning through the canopy of trees on a clear path -- potentially, a clear path for Pitchfork. Strafe isn't really looking. "AAAH D-DIE IMMORTAL ZOMBIE SEEKER!!" Strafe strikes Pitchfork with Heat Rifle ::Maximum Output::. Markdown grimaces as laser blasts pelt his back, but do little more than superficial damage. "Look, guys, that's great and all, and maybe sometime later I can help sponsor a concert or two for ya--but for right now?" He slams the rope's hook right through the rock, hoping that it stays stuck this time. "Just stay alive while I clobber this guy!" Glancing backwards, he braces his legs against the mountain face and waits for Blueshift to draw closer. "That's right, buddy... little bit closer..." Then, he literally springs right off the rocks, arms outstretched for Blueshift. "SURPRISE! I can't fly, but I can JUMP GOOD!" You evade Markdown's GOTCHA! attack. Markdown says, "...landing, on the other hand, is something I'm still working on."" Rodimus Prime looks from the nest in his hands to the continued hoots and hollers of the Decepticons. "Seems like they're after the eagles... I think," he says, face wrinkling as he tries to make the slightest attempt at figuring out the Decepticons' intentions. "I'm going to get these eggs to safety! Markdown, Hoist, Strafe -- make sure the humans stay out of harm's way!" Rodimus transforms, somehow managing to oh-so-gingerly put the eagle nest into his cockpit in the process. Revving his engine, he drives through the rubble of Blueshift's boulder attack -- though he's going somewhat slow, obviously to preserve the precious eggs inside of him. T-72 MBT takes a corner at speed, clearly not worried about throwing treads, and spots the battle through the trees. "There they are! Brawl, you can get rid of that new SUV guy, he looks feeble and ineffective! Then take out Hoist! I'll handle Strafe." His AA gun swings into action on its pintle-mount, tracers raking up through the dark sky towards the crazed Technobot. Blitzwing strikes Strafe with 12.7mm AA Machinegun. Was that a backhanded compliment? Happily, Brawl's internal processors aren't fast enough to effectively ponder the question. "Will do," he agrees, rumbling. Brawl strikes Markdown with machine gun. Blueshift really really wants the humans. He streaks down towards Markdown, aiming to tackle the Autobot to the ground. "I will have sole rights over these flesh creatures, you will not, shall not stand in my way! For I am Blueshift, defeater of the Prime! Now *I* am Autobot leader by right of conquest!" Naughty Blueshift! But is he enough for the heroic Markdown? Markdown evades your Tackle! attack. "You make even less sense than that Warmonger guy and he's older than---" Pitchfork is cut off when he's struck with a mighty HEAT BLAST! He falls to the ground as well, clutching his Megatron pistol in both hands. He manages to stagger to a standing position, oil trickling out of his mouth. He takes aim through the Megatron sight and squeezes the Megatron trigger (yeah he knows where that ends up in robot mode, but luckily this is just a replica) and shoots a Blue Laser at Strafe. Pitchfork strikes Strafe with Megatron Pistol - Blue Laser. "Excellent, reinforcements have arrived," Warmonger growls, turning his attention momentarily away from Hoise. Floating off the ground, he jets over to the netted eagles, frowning at the mass of squawking beaks and feathers. "I, WARMONGER, was only tasked to bring ONE of you back to New Crystal City!" he announces. The eagles squawk. "Hnnn. How shall I, WARMONGER, choose the most worthy among you?" He settles into a pensive pose for a while, rubbing at his chin. Then a lightbulb goes off. "AHA! You shall have an eagle fight... TO THE DEATH!" He shakes the net, turning it into a large cage, the eagles still trapped inside. "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE DISGUSTING EAGLE CREATURE!" Markdown tumbles through the air as he drops down towards the forest. "Well, this is awful familiar. Still, I managed to survive the last fall so..." Then comes a Blueshift, a trying to tackle him!. "Bad move, buddy! I fight best in close combat!" So the capitalist robot tries to grab onto Blueshift as he nears him, and twist them both around so that Blueshift is under him once gravity catches up with them both. Markdown is sprayed with bullets as he grapples with Blueshift, or tries to. "OW! Now that just isn't fair!" Markdown strikes you with We All Fall Down for 8 points of damage. "Oh m-man, did I hit him? I-- I hit him? Wow! I finally did it! I shot down the enemy! S-see? If you j-just keep firing, eventually you'll hit 'em-- OH GOOD LORD!!" The sudden exclamation of surprise and pain elicits from Strafe as he is suddenly shot up by Blitzwing's gunfire, energon spurting out of the holes made in electrical bursts -- just in time for the BLUE LASER!! to blast through his torso with singing pain. "Ghhn-- they're EVERYWHERE!! THEY HAVE ME S-SURROUNDED, OH PRANCING PRIMUS!! THEY'RE GONNA USE ME FOR THEIR CRUEL EX-EXPERIMENTS, I JUST KNOW IT!" Strafe's rifle once more flares to life, shooting -- well -- just about everywhere. Beams of heat lance throughout the skies as he continuously squeezes the triggers of his rifle, shouting out his mighty battle cry: "I DON'T W-W-WANNA BE PROOOOBED!! GAAAARGH!!" Energy sprays everywhere, with no clear focus as to who Strafe is targetting -- he's just freaking out, at this point. Strafe unleashes his FREAKIN' OUT!!!! attack on Blitzwing, Brawl, Warmonger, Markdown, Pitchfork, Blueshift and Hoist, striking no one. MEANWHILE... Rodimus Prime is at the nearest park ranger station, holding the eagle nest in his hands. "Uh-huh," he says, nodding to a park ranger who's lecturing him with charts and a slide presentation. "So the eagle imprints on its mother upon hatching?" CHEEP CHEEP CHEEP. "Uh. I think it imprinted all over me... Say, can you take care of these until I deal with this thing I've got?" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the laser war happening on the mountain nearby. "Yeah... That thing. Okay. Thanks. I'll be back." Running to the roadside, Rodimus transforms, gunning his engine and lurching back towards the battle in a red, yellow and orange blur! Rodimus Prime transforms into a high-tech winnebago. Let's burn rubber! Hoist takes cover from Strafe's wild attack, cursing in obscure Cybertronian. His head sensor begins twitching automatically, assessing vitals of friend and foe alike. "YES EAGLE CREATURES! BATTLE FOR THE GLORY OF THE DECEPTICON EMPIRE!" Warmonger bellows, egging the eagles on. Unfortunately, they aren't really doing anything other than CAWWing angrily at each other. Well, two of them appear to be mad humping, birdy-style. Warmonger has mistaken this for battle. "YES! STRIKE FROM BEHIND! STRIKE FROM BEHIND WITH YOUR PELVIS-MOUNTED DAGGER! HAHAHAAA!" He smiles. "This is INDEED a GLORIOUS DAY for Decepticons EVERYWHERE." ONE HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW: Strafe's barrage of lasers all but missed Pitchfork one hundred years in the past, but outlined him perfectly, leaving a pitchfork shaped etching on a rock. After losing the American Idol Wars, the US is reduced to barbaric tribes. One such tribe, the Nation of Chuck Taylor, worships the Pitchfork etching as their god. NOW: "Gah! Autobot! You're a danger to everything worthwhile! And everything not worthwhile! Thus, I am conflicted about shooting you!" Pitchfork decides, and again looks through the MEgatron sight, resting the Megatron stock against his shoulder. PEW RED LASER! at strafe Pitchfork strikes Strafe with Megatron Pistol - Red Laser. What is Blueshift doing? He's still wrestling with Markdown in a manly fashion. "Enough!" he barks in pain as he slams into the ground, an Autobot on top of him. "Today Autobot, you breath your last. Today the slayer of Prime shall slay you too!" Leaping into the air, he transforms into his spacecraft mode, looking like he is flying away... before turning round and flying straight for Markdown. "Today you DIE!" He... doesn't look like he's going to stop anytime soon... You strike Markdown with ram. T-72 MBT's periscope glances around as Strafe's blasts spack into the ground nearby but not near enough to really be concerned about. "On second thought maybe Strafe is not really a big deal after all," he muses, turret swivelling to target... Hoist! "Put down the Eagles, Autobuffoon! Tequila Sunrise is one of my favorites!" Blitzwing strikes Hoist with 125mm Smoothbore. *CHOOM* M1 Abrams Tank is going to cheat. OR rather, help with the ganging up, oh, yes. Which means that he rotates one of his smaller guns around, takes relatively careful aim at the scrimmage involving Markdown, and sends a sonic round towards him. Brawl strikes Markdown with Dual Sonic Cannon. For a long moment, Strafe stands completely still amidst a haze of smoke and ruined ground. Deep holes are burned into earth and stone around him where Strafe was improbably -shooting the ground- as if it held hidden enemies. Several trees are scorched. Slowly, he exhales... and a tree falls with a deafening crash. "WHOA!! D-DECEPTICON ATTACK!!!" Strafe begins firing once more, streaks of white-red energy scorching the air as he fires into the direction of the fallen tree. It's only several long seconds afterwards that he finally notices-- "... oh. It was just a tree. Haha, I really need to s-stop being so --" And that's when the RED LASER PEW PEW PEW burns across his shoulder, cutting him off and applying enough force to send the Technobot spinning in a sharp stagger. "TH-THAT WASN'T A TREE! DIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" He fires off a single, low-powered shot here the moment that the blast forces him into a twist, eyes clenched tight behind his visor as the shot is fired off wildly. Strafe misses Pitchfork with his Heat Rifle ::Low Output:: attack. Hoist takes a full round burst of 125 mm rounds in his chest while attempting to get to his feet. The impact forces him to one knee. His optics gleam from the smoke rising from the wounds, and a little of the humor goes out of his voice as he says, "I-i can do that, too, Decepticon!" One of the two missiles flies off of his back and homes in on his aggressor. Hoist strikes T-72 MBT with missile. Markdown's optics bulge as Blueshift's wing flies right into his gut, sinking into his armor. "Urrrrgh! Ok, I'll give you this much--that kinda HURk wabba wabba wabba wabbbaaaaaa!" He's cut off by Brawl's sonic attack, which rattles him like a thing that rattles a great deal. Like a... sonic toothbrush, maybe...? "Dammit, that's it!" Markdown shouts, as he tries to grab onto Blueshift's wing and twist the control surfaces the wrong way. "I hope that's NOT covered under warranty!" You evade Markdown's Twisty attack. Rodimus Prime emerges from the treeline near the mountain battle scene, running at a brisk jog. "Give it up, Decepticons!" Rodimus shouts, shooting laser blasts from his arm barrels at the first tank he sees. "Your days of plundering America's protected wildlife are over!" Rodimus Prime strikes M1 Abrams Tank with Photon Blast. An :o is Pitchfork's face as Strafe shoots. It looks like it's about to hit him!! Thinking quickly, the Decepticon jet drops his Megatron pistol, whic shatters into tiny plaid pieces, and rockets upward. "I spent all of Ramjet's paycheck on that, Autobot! Eat Null Ray!" He fires his arm-blasters, which are null rays. "BACK IN STYLE! YOW!" Pitchfork strikes Strafe with his Vintage Null Ray attack. The eagles still aren't fighting, but the two who were mating have stopped. Warmonger looks perplexed. "WHY do you not go in for the KILL, flesh creature?!" he demands. "You were so CLOSE! I HEARD the flurry of DESPERATE, PAINED SQUAWKING right before the end!" This is just too much for the Decepticon Jet to process. He sits down heavily on a rock next to the impromptu Thunderdome. "What shall I, WARMONGER, do? Taking ALL of the eagles seems IMPRACTICAL. And yet, they will not BOW to my wishes and BATTLE TO THE DEATH. Hrrrrm." He sinks into a The Thinker pose. "Wait, what? And I was having such fun trying to drill Markdown." There's a screech as the first tank in question whips his turret around as fast as he can, to stare at his new attacker. How dare a recreational vehicle accost him in this manner? Brawl does not hesitate, but does his best to blast Rodimus. Brawl strikes Rodimus Prime with Stabilized 120mm Cannon. "Oh-ho!" exclaims Blitzwing, charging towards Hoist with a big scorched dent in his turret glacis from Hoist's missile impact. "So you got some sauce after all! Let's see if you can take what you give!" He roars over a hill, ramping off of it and transforming in midair, engines screaming as he hurtles towards Hoist. A missile detaches from his underwing hardpoint and streaks towards Hoist before a trail of smoke, its black glossy nose gleaming with deadly intent! Blitzwing strikes Hoist with Cruise Missile. Blueshift's wing is not covered under warranty since the Decepticon made a statue of Galvatron out of the insurance documents. So it is lucky that Markdown missed. "Autobot, today you will /not/ die, for you are too pathetic for me to kill!" the spaceship emits. "That said, I have just received special orders to go kill more people in painful ways. Warmonger, do not forget The Eagles!" And with that, the blue spaceship flies off! Blueshift retreats from the area swiftly, outdistancing all pursuit and parting shots.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)