| abstract
| - The Evergreen State is bordered on the north by Canada, Oregon to the south, Idaho on the east, and the Pacific to the west. The northwest corner consists of the Olympic Peninsula, with its rainforests and the towering Olympic Mountains. However, the region east of the Cascades, the forested and sometimes volcanically active mountains running north to south through the state, is largely dry, including the arid Columbia Plateau in the south. Forming the border between Washington and Oregon is the Columbia River, one of the world's greatest sources of hydroelectric power. The state is home to a variety of industries, from lumbering to their famous apples to the manufacture of jet aircraft, missiles, and even spacecraft. Room Contents: Warmonger Pipes F-16 Falcon Blot Playn not Munky Frenzy Dire Wraith Energy Sphere Blueshift Obvious exits: Fly leads to Skies above the Western United States. West leads to North Pacific - North American Coast. North leads to Western Provinces - Canada. Out leads to Northwestern States. Cascades Markdown has arrived. Washington, state of lakes, mountains, beautiful scenery, and... destruction. For the end has arrived, and it has begun here. Scant minutes ago, something appeared in the air, a glowing ball of energy, similar to the one that visited Autobot City and New Crystal City the other day. But this time it is bigger, much bigger, and growing all the time. Crackling with a snake-like hiss, the white sphere grows at a slow rate, its fuzzy borders consuming everything that it touches. At this point, it is about the size of a football field, but growing with every second, consuming and eating as it goes. And standing away from it, walking alongside as it expands, it a black shadowy figure, that too visited both factions. They have returned! Nightbeat arrives in Washington from the Northwestern State region. The high-pitched wail of a lone emergency siren adds to all the other noise and chaos in the area. Soon the source of this sound, a Lamborghini Countach with Fire Department markings, appears around the corner far far down the street. Lights flashing, it swerves around cars that are too slow to get out of it's way, at speeds that would be reckless if it wasn't clear that the car is under pinpoint-precise control. The car pulls up to a skidding stop about half a mile from the sphere, running various long-range sensor scans. A dark cloud appears on the horizon and heads towards the white light apparently being drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Dreadwind flies onwards certain that this time it will all end for the Autobots, the Decepticons and for himself, though of course the suffering and pointlessness will continue just in another form. <> The voice of the Horrorcon Apeface bellows across all Decepticon radiofrequencies as he arrives -- fashionably late -- to the scene of the enigmatic catastrophe. The pink jet burns the air as its thrusters ignite, sending it veering in safe proximity from the crackling mass of energy that seems to be consuming everything around it. <> Blot claps his hands together and bobs his head in agreement, over the radio frequencies. He's sure that makes sense and is readily translatable by everyone. Blot covers his eyes. "DISCSO SUN IT SHINE SOOOO BRIIIIGHT! AAAUUGH!!" Vrrrm vrrm vrrm. Driving almost as fast, right behind Red Alert, is an orange Hummer, Markdown. He's content to let Red Alert take the lead, since he's the one who (inexplicably) has the sirens. "Oh, boy, I can't wait to find out what this energy thingy has in store for everyone, now. Have any of the eggheads gotten any idea at all what this thing IS?" His driving isn't as graceful as Red Alert, but he manages, even if he has to swerve completely off of the road in order to avoid cars. Luckily, he's built for it. Despite peer pressure, Warmonger does not do anything cool as he transforms into a Pyramid Jet. Trailing smoke, a little blue semi cab follows the Fire Chief's car. "Uh, just so you know, Officer Red Alert, dude, broguy, this smoke is totally not what you think it is. It's totally regulation. In fact I updated you 'Duty Protocols' Wikipedia page on Teletraan 2 to back me up," it emits, screeching to a hault as Red Alert does. "Don't dishonor Ultra Magnus' memory by /harshing/ me!" <> Warmonger admonishes, flying into the zone. << If ANYONE is to DESTROY the DISGUSTING phallic symbols of this PUTRID nation, it is to be the GLORIOUS DECEPTICON EMPIRE, not some GLORIFIED Scrantargian sparkworm!>> The pyramid jet waggles his wings in fury. << I, WARMONGER, shall see to it that this glowing ABOMINATION learns its PLACE in the universe! That place... is BENEATH THE HELL OF THE MIGHTY DECEPTICON EMPIRE!>> He pauses, turning contemplative. <> Rodimus Prime has arrived. With a crackling, the sphere continues to pulsate, its aura eminating wider and wider, touching a cow which turns to moo in surprise, before literally unravelling before your eyes, skin, then bones, then muscle and finally skeleton vanishing, until nothing is left, and the sphere grows. The creature walking beside it turns its sightless vision towards the oncoming Transformers. "So!" it booms. "You heed the summoning" Scrapper has arrived. The shadowy gloom continues on it's way in, ominous dark silence a counterpoint to the creeping almost silent white annihilation. Dipping groundwards slightly Dreadwind radios on an open frequency, "Well it seems that we are already spotted and that we were expected. This isn't going to go well for anybody at all." <> Apeface speaks the label as if it were a derogatory term, guffawing as he does, <> Apeface veers up sharply into the skies as the figure speaks, taking a good look at the unraveling cow. <> Fire Chief's Countach transforms into his robot mode and immediately fixes a suspicious glare on the arriving Decepticons. He points them out helpfully to the other Autobots, and then transmits a few alert messages to them just for good measure. Then he adds, for even better measure, "Decepticons! Are YOU the ones behind all of this?!" The red fire chief's car transforms into Red Alert. Rodimus Prime transforms into a high-tech winnebago. Let's burn rubber! Scrapper is making his approach with the other Decepticons. The engineer is here mostly due to a scientific curiosity of just what this thing is. The creature in New Crystal City mentioned Primus repeatedly, and it's rare that a Transformer is able to have a shot at seeing something from their history up close and personal. Scrapper is being fairly quiet for now, possibly out of awe and wonder for this mystery. H12 Hummer screeches to a halt off the side of the road near Red Alert, throwing up gravel before he transforms. Fists clenched, he glares murderously at the wraith. "You! Whatever the hell you are, are you behind all of this? Because there are good people trying to make a living in this state and they don't need some creepy shadow thing turning their livestock inside out! So you tell us what you want, maybe we can get it for ya, maybe not. Either way, you've got to get hell out of here, buster!" The H12 Hummer suddenly splits open, pushing itself up as the front end turns into a pair of powerful arms and the back end forms a pair of legs. Markdown emerges, ready for business! The Pyramid Jet known as Warmonger changes his path and begins to fly straight towards the eyeless alien creature with its cow-mutilating fancy. He transforms as he flies, suddenly diving towards the Wraith like a torpedo. As he flies, exciting blue and yellow action lines appear behind him and the monger of war turns, hands clenching into fists, feet aiming towards the Dire Wraith's face. "ALIEN SCUM!" he screams. "THE ONLY THING THAT I, WARMONGER, HEED... IS MY FOOT IN YOUR FACE!" Warmonger strikes. "FOR GALVATRON!" Without any fancy shenanigans, Warmonger transforms into Robot mode. Warmonger strikes Dire Wraith with Conviction Kick. F-16 Falcon would try and correct Apeface as to his proper name designation but what would be the point he'd only go and call him something equaly inane. "No one ever listens Apeface, that's the problem. See look at Warmonger there, just jumping in feet first not a thought for tactics or the inevitable suffering he's going to be enduring within moments." Dreadwind flies closer but doesn't attack after all there's no point in fighting the inevitable destruction of the white orb, so what if the shadowy figure can be dealt with. Flamin' Winnebago guns his engine, pulling up a freeway on-ramp and accelerating into traffic, dodging and weaving to make his way towards the alien / energy disturbance of the week. The radar panel on his dashboard flashes green blips as he homes in on the IDFF transponders of his allies. He finally spots Red Alert and the others, pressing the brakes and sliding to a stop before rising up into his robot mode. Optics narrowed, one hand on his hip and the other holding his wristpipe blasters at the ready, he squints as he surveys the scene. The high-tech winnebago transforms into a robot. Rodimus Prime is back! Let's party! As Warmonger drop-kicks the wraith from the sky, the Decepticon would find that his foe was mostly ethereal, smokey wisps trailing around the creature as it partly breaks up then reforms, a small surge of energy coming from the sphere as the creature is damaged. But... it doesn't look that damaged at all. It turns its head to Warmonger. "Pathetic. Do not resist the call of your master, insect." And then... it turns to Markdown, who addressed it directly. "My master is the one 'behind' all this, I am simply his humble and willing servant. Behold!" It sweeps a hand to the sphere. "Behold the end of this world, and the beginning of your new life in blissful servatude to your true god!" It's not that Pipes is hiding behind Red Alert, it's just that Red Alert is so much taller than him. And the best way for Pipes to hide his stash from Red Alert is to hide behind him, because Red Alert never looks over his shoulder -and- down, and that is new canon. "It's a... Poltergiest!" Blot nods in approval as the dark shadowy gloom ominously insinuates itself over the horizon. "Much better. " Blot agrees and then begins to chews on a broken muffler he finds on the ground, "MMMmmm beef jerky taste like car." Scrapper hmmms and starts planning to begin his new life in blissful servitude to their true God. He stops flying towards the thing and hovers in midair, waiting to see how the others fare against it. Maybe the entity was just lucky against Warmonger. A whiring siren fills the air, and a speeding white antique hearse comes into view, weaving inbetween cars. The cars soons arrives on the scene, sliding sideways to a stop, a small red and black robot emerges clad in an oversized brown jumpsuit. "Heh Ladies and Diodes, what did I miss!" Frenzy pulls his gun from the car and whoas at the orb wraith thingy. Warmonger slams heavily into the ground, creating a furrow through all the lovely wilderness or whatever behind the Dire Wraith. Slowly, he turns as the ethereal being addresses him, zealous fire in his amber optics. "CREATURE!" he shouts. "Do not PRESUME to ORDER us! Only ONE may call us, whether to battle or the boudoire! AND THAT ONE IS /GALVATRON/!" Warmonger stands, throwing out a hand to point angrily at the intruder. His index finger quivers with righteous rage. F-16 Falcon picks up on the proclamations of the the apparent ghost figure and heads straight down towards the ground, transforming before landing a short distance away. Dreadwind's pale optics stare at and through the wraith, "Bliss? There is no such thing, there is only suffering and torment, clearly you have little understanding of how the universe works. Pain and turmoil are all there is, that thing is no God." Yes our saviour has entered the fray, Dreadwind will destroy the bliss merely by his presence. F-16 Falcon suddenly halts it's forwards momentum and pulls up as it bends in half. The body of the jet twists and unfolds to become legs, while arms extrude themselves from the fuselage sides. Mid-flight, the Horrorcon Apeface transforms into his bulky gorilla mode. Gravity takes over, and the mass of purple and black metal soars down towards the ground, CRASHING into concrete with enough force to depress the hard earth beneath him inwards into a small crater. "Looks like ya did a real number on him, Seeker! GYAARRHAARRHARRRR!!" Getting a good laugh at his fellow Decepticon's failure. "Hey, Constructidweeb, what the slag is that thing?!" Apeface jerks a gorilla finger at Scrapper, ignoring the Autobots for now. With a mighty "GrUnK!" Apeface assumes his purple funky munky form. Markdown growls, "So somebody is calling your shots, huh? Well, I don't care! Call him up on your ghost cell phone or whatever you have and tell him to knock it off, or I swear I'll beat you AND him so bad you'll be in shadow-traction for millenia! Get me!" For added emphasis, he walks up to a rock face and gives it a good punch, knocking off a large chunk of slate. He hefts the slate up with one hand and pats it with the other. "I PRESUME nothing!" the creature booms, waving a hand at Warmonger, and sending what can only be described as a force barrier his way. "Do not mock me, or the master will have you smelted down, not fit to sully His presence with!" The wraith then turns to Markdown, folding its arms as the Autobot punches a rock. "Pathetic. You can strike a rock. My master can strike worlds, his controls the very fires of heaven itself. He is the all and everything, and soon you will know his majesty, if you dare to!" Dire Wraith misses Warmonger with its I, WRAITH! attack. Scrapper looks at Apeface. Scrapper looks up at the Dire Wraith. "It's, ah, something big and... probably evil," Scrapper says. He watches as the thing srikes back at the Decepticon, but Warmonger is just too darned fast. "So... should we try to defeat this thing?" he asks, apparently unwilling to try and take command tonight. Stepping out from behind Red Alert and squinting at the Poltergiest, Pipes addresses his fellow Autobots. "All we have to do is get it to accept its death. So basically, I'll handle this, bros..." his smokestacks exhale large plumes of smoke, and he coughs. "POLTERGEIST. YOUR GHOST UNCLE TOUCHED YOU AS A CHILD. IN YOUR SWIMSUIT AREA. BUT IT'S OKAY, BRO, GHOST, GUY, DUDE. I KNOW HE BURIED YOU BEHIND A GHOST WALL SO NO ONE WOULD FIND YOUR BODY! BUT YOU'RE FREE NOW, BRO!" Rodimus Prime winces as Markdown takes "diplomacy" into his own hands, lifting his hands to try to quiet the other Autobot. "I'll take it from here, Markdown," he says, stepping forward towards the Dire Wraith. He gives Pipes a look, listening to the minibot's own attempt at calming the creature down, before turning to look up at it. "Whoever you are, I'm Rodimus Prime -- Leader of the Autobots!" He calls out, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Who is your 'master' exactly --why are you here?" Frenzy smirks and approaches the wraith. "You sure do like to yap, don't cha, you over grown plasmafly!" With that, his arms change to pile drivers, and he kneels down, letting his actions do the talking. Frenzy strikes Dire Wraith with its PileDrivin Yo Momma attack. The sheer force of Warmonger's patriotism causes the Dire Wraith's assault to split, cascading around the Decepticon Warrior and leaving him unscathed. How this is physically possible is a matter for another time. "HA HA HA!" Warmonger laughs, putting his hands on his hips and throwing back his head to laugh. "You are even more pathetic than an Auto-bot!" Warmonger turns to glower at Markdown and Rodimus Prime, giving them a rude Cybertronian gesture. "YOU HEARD ME CORRECTLY! I CALLED YOU PATHETIC!" he shouts, just in case they missed it. Markdown takes a step forward, and is about to fling the slate at the horrible monster... thing, when Rodimus Prime steps in. The Hummer may be angry, but he's not insubordinate. "Yessir," Markdown replies, backing up to let Rodimus take charge of the situation. Blot smiles at the evil scary ghost monster man dude bro and extends both arms fully. His thumbs flip up and then Blot's big fat purple tongue sticks out and he makes the fattest wettest raspberry, like everysingle person in the room gets annointed with the HOLYCHODE "THbbbbbbbBBbBbbBbbBbT!" And he flips both his thumbs ups, to thumbs downs!!!! "Hun-Grr and Cutthroat make way better scary ghosts and freak Blot out at night when Blot was still all scare of the Ice Cave. Blot more scared of Figure Skating show!" From Dire Wraith, As the ground cracks around it, the Wraith is forced to take a moment to slide and smokily congeal itself above the ground. "Do not try my patience, little one, ask your 'lord' Galvatron of the smallest extent of my power." The voice booms out all along the scene, as the sphere beside it continues to grow still, crackling all the time. And then... Prime speaks, and for once, the creature is genuinely interested. "Ah, the prime unit. Yes, my master has special plans for you. My master is your forgotten god, ALPHA Q, abandoned and exiled, he is finally returning to this sphere of existance to right the wrongs put upon him, and to take what is rightfully his. To take /you/" Dreadwind stands near motionless as he observes the wraith and listens, "Ah so you were lying, i knew it, your god, master, whatever, is as cruel and malicious as any other being. Therefore like any other creature, suffers the torment of existence, all this destruction will not end the suffering, give up, lie still and wait for the end, fighting it is utterly pointless it will only cause it more suffering." Oh yes that's the stuff Dreadwind is going to depress it out of it's current course of action. Markdown stabs a finger at Warmonger. "Blow it out your exhaust port, Decepticon! We'll deal with you in a minute!" He's interrupted, though, by Blot's disgusting spittle, some of which manages to get on him. "What? Agh, cut that out!" he yells, holding the chunk of slate in front of himself as a sort of spit shield. Frenzy laughs as his arms change back. "Yeah, Blot is right, you ain't so tough! Your just like..a bad case of gas!" He then presses a button on his chest, and horrible, ear-splitting sounds fill the area, though mostly around the wraith. "This ought to shut you up for good Casper the dorky ghost!" Frenzy strikes Dire Wraith with Supa Sound System. "Alpha Q, Alpha Q, Alpha Q!" Scrapper shouts, annoyed. "Who is this Alpha Q you always spout on and on about? Our true God, eh? Well then lets see him already! Lets see our true God make his triumphant return so he can lead the Decepticons to their victory over the accursed Autobots already." Because of course the Transformer God, Primus, favours the Decepticons. This is a given. Surely this Alpha Q, if also supposedly a Transformer God, does as well. Pipes stares in disbelief as the Dire Wraith doesn't fade into nothingness. As Blot speaks, Pipes' robot heart melts, and the robo-veins in his optics become more pronounced. "Oh, man, Rodimus!" Pipes' stubby legs carry him up to the Autobot commander. "The Decepticons are /just as scared as we are/! We have to help them, bro! We're the good guys!" He stands triumphantly, smokestacks resting on his hips. "It just goes to show, good, bad, jet or car... we're all afraid of ghosts!" Rodimus Prime scowls at the Dire Wraith, his attention briefly shifting to the Decepticons that seem to have gathered around it like the proverbial moths to a flame. When the entity addresses him, he looks back up at it. "Listen to me, pal," he says with a sneer, "I've /seen/ plenty of things that call themselves 'Gods' and trust me -- they all exaggerated." He points a gunmetal gray finger at the ghost-energy thing. "Your master wants me? Tell him to come and get me." His bravado is distracted by Pipes waddling up to his side, causing him to look down at his small friend. "I'm not so sure about that, Pipes," he says, glancing at Blot. "I think they're just... stupid." Frenzy disengages his sound system in time to hear pipes. "Heh Auto-dope, We ain't afraid of NUTHIN!" With that, he turns his back to the wraith and puts his hands on his hips, standing triumphantly and defiantly at pipes. Quickswitch has arrived. Quickswitch springs up into his massive robot mode. The wraith simply turns to silently glare at Frenzy, before raising a hand, a pulse of power coming out of it. As before, an energy spike can be registered at the same time from the still-growing sphere. "Silence, wretch! Be glad I spare your life for the master!" He then starts to float towards the Autobots and Decepticons, getting closer now, turning first to Scrapper. "There will be no victory for you. As of this moment, your pathetic squabbling is over, all will be as one under Him. You will fight in his name, and you will die in his name." And then... he turns to Prime. "Prime unit. If one can bring life from the barren rocks and metal, if he can mold the very stuff of the universe itself to his will, if he can control all of time and space, and if he by sheer force of will brings about the creation "of the universe, is he not a god? Do not show disrespect for your master. I simply pave the way for His coming. Dire Wraith strikes Frenzy with ooOooOOooOoo. Scrapper summons up his courage and snarls back at the Wraith, "Then Alpha Q is no god of mine." The Constructicon cuts his anti-grav systems and falls to the ground, landing in a crouch with his laser pistol already out and set. He sees as this creature panders to Rodimus Prime. With the monster's attention focused on the Autobot leader, Scrapper takes the shot, aiming at its... back? If it even has a back. Scrapper strikes Dire Wraith with Laser Pistol - Medium Setting. Standing Taller at Rodimus' words, Pipes points a smokestack at the Wraith. "I'm an /Autobot/, so I always believe everything Rodimus says, unconditionally, and if Ultra MAgnus was alive and well I'd believe him to, but if they argued my head would explode due to the paradox of it all, because which one is better?!" Pipes pants, aiming his smokestack more steadily. "You're a pradox, Mr. Ghost, just like that! That's all you are! If I don't believe in you, you don't exist! Bro! Guy! Dude!" Pipes runs and leaps at the wraith, "WHOA!" Markdown grumbles, "Sir, how much more of this crap are we going to have listen to?" He raises his arms up in frustration, even while still holding up the rock. "It hasn't attacked us yet, but judging from the way he's blasting the Decepticons, that doesn't mean he won't. Let's take this thing out, Prime! Maybe if we combine our efforts, we can bring it down!" His attention returns to the pulsating orb. "Otherwise... well... that thing will probably get bigger, and bigger..." The small red & black casseteicon is flung through the air with the greatest of ease, landing near his comrades with the thump and Umpfh. 'Ohh, so you wanna play rough, do ya Wraith-face!?" With a painful grunt, the damaged Frenzy rolls on his back and pulls out his gun, pointing it at the wraith and struggling to pull the trigger in his weakened state. "This one's fer Soundwave you ugly son of a bugzapper!" Frenzy strikes Dire Wraith with SUPA HUGA DEATH RAY. As Rodimus and the wraith jabber, Apeface watches with a bit of a scowl, stepping backwards and away from the HUGE MASS of energy that's still gobbling up everything. "Heh, this ghost-wannabe is startin' ta bore me with all his talkin'. An' all these Autobots are startin' ta get on my nerves. How 'bout we slag 'em all an' jus' be done with it, eh?! I got better things ta do than listen ta some ghost-brained idiot talk about his silly li'l god!" As Apeface speaks, he transforms into his robot mode, leveling his delightfully pink gun at the wraith and firing off pulses of sonic energy. "Go back ta yer scientology sermons, ya freakin' nutcase!" With much boisterous clamor, Apeface shifts into the form of a large, purple robot. Apeface strikes Dire Wraith with Pink Gun . From Dire Wraith, Oh Pipes. Pipes Pipes Pipes. The minibot's leap at the Wraith is cut short, as the Wraith forcable grabs him, and HURLS him into the white sphere, where like the cow, Pipes is quickly and almost instantly stripped down, from armour to inner workings to skeletal structure, before... vanishing! Dreadwind stands passively watching as his fellow Decepticons attempt to do what they usually do best and that is physically break whoever is in their way, unfortunately this being doesn't appear to be all there. "So this Alpha Q is in pain, the 'God' suffers the torment of exile, of being shunned, pushed away. Destruction will not end the pain it will only enhance it, then there will be nothing at all everything gone except for itself and the growing insanity as realisation of the cruel final jest the universe has played slowly dawns. It is better to sit and do nothing, ignoring the incessent pleading of the universe for action, you cannot win so don't bother fighting against it." There is no fear in Dreadwind's optics just weary resignation he has no need for fear he knows that he cannot stop the inevitability of his own excruciatingly painful demise. Blot scratches his head. "Blot thirsty. Anyone see parked car?" Blot sees Pipes. Blot's vision blurrs with thirst, he craves the sweet sweet taste of DIESEL Pipes shimmers and blurrs into a parked cement truck. Blot's features become entranced. He claps his hands slowly and hypnotically, "YAY! YAAAAAY! BLOT LOVE CRONSTIPATION JEWSE!" He begins to slowly and hypnotically walk towards Pipes, his hands outstretched in front of him like a zombie. Scrapper shoots Dreadwind an annoyed look. "What in the blazes are you going on about?" he asks even as he concentrates on the wrath. Squinting his optical visor, he tries to see just what happened to the Autobot minibot. "Hey... hey, where's Pipes? What happened to Pipes?" Scrapper doesn't actually care what happened to Pipes, per se, but he does care that the same thing might happen to the Decepticons that happened to the Autobot. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pipes," Rodimus responds with only the lightest hint of sardonicism, looking to Markdown. "Can we really blame it for /blasting Decepticons/ for us?" He lifts one hand and shrugs, "You won't see me complain --" His optics go wide as Pipes decides to test the Wraith by jumping at it. "Pipes, wait! No!" Rodimus stares in horror as the little minibot who brought so much light into his life dissolves into nothing. His horror quickly changes to resolve, his hands balling into fists. "Nevermind, Markdown. We're taking it down." He points up at the energy being. "Pave the way for /this/!" The chrome pipes on his wrist erupt in a burst of photonic energy. "Take 'im out, Autobots! #-1 FUNCTION (ANSI,) NOT FOUND" Rodimus Prime strikes Dire Wraith with Photon Eliminator Hose-Down. "Blasphemy!" The Wraith booms out, as it turns to Dreadwind. "He who has been wronged will return to take his rightful place amongst the stars. You, you of all of them have wisdom, but it still pales in comparison to that of Alpha Q!" The apparition flickers slightly as everyone around it starts shooting, at every shot, the energy sphere pulsating brigher. "Fools, I am powered by a god! Which of you can say the same?" As he says this, his arms outstretch, and there is a crackling of an almost dark electricity that arcs towards his attackers. "You speak with weapons, but they are weak, so your words are meaningless!" Dire Wraith unleashes its Dark Powers! attack on Scrapper, Apeface and Frenzy, striking Apeface and Frenzy. Markdown shrugs at his leader. "Well, not really, sir, but the thing's obviously violent and prepared to--" Like Rodimus, however, his train of thought is broken as Pipes abruptly vanishes into the orb! "NO! You son of a prostidroid!" With a slight grunt, Markdown spins round and and round with the slate rock in his hands, eventually releasing it like a discus at the bizarre apparition. "You aren't getting with this! And your Alpha Q is NEXT on my list!" Markdown strikes Dire Wraith with See you SLATER, Pipes, ahahahahaha... eh, geeze, that was horrible.... Frenzy screams as the dark powers crackle over his frame and penetrate every orifice. "AHHHHHH.why you.damn overgrownbugzapper!" He manages to blurt out as he writhes and spasms around. Quickswitch's mouth falls open somewhere between shock and awe. The tri-colored green, red and chrome Autobot raises his photon blaster for an affronted, experimental shot at this creature, his large finger clenching on the trigger as he stares through the sight at inky blacknesss as his target. The small Autobot had, foolishly but perhaps neccesarily, demonstrated the uselessness of a melee assault, a motion filed calmly away as the Sixchanger pulls the trigger. Quickswitch strikes Dire Wraith with Photon Blaster. Red Alert raises his blaster and fires, sending a blazing particle beam sizzling at the Wraith. He notices the energy sphere getting brighter, and then observes the same thing happening from other attacks. He calls out, "Autobots! (oh and you too, youtreacherous Decepticons). It appears to be -absorbing- the energy from our attacks...! I recommend ceasing all attacks." He pauses a beat, then shouts in a high-pitched voice, "And switch to high explosives!" fwoooOOOOOSH! You strike Dire Wraith with rocket. The grizzled Decepticon veteran watches with cold detachment as Pipes is dismantled. But then, he straightens... and gives a salute towards the fallen Autobot. "You fought BRAVELY, Pipes. Like a DECEPTICON," he growls, before drawing his large gun from subspace. The gun whines as is powers up, lights speeding up the barrel as energy crackles at the tip. Warmonger leaps forward, holding the gun right towards the Dire Wraith's head. "BLASPHEME /THIS/, GASBAG!" FRWOOOOM! Warmonger strikes Dire Wraith with High-Bore Laser. "Ahhh!" Scrapper calls out as the Wraith turns its attention towards him (and some other Decepticons). It is only luck that the Constructicon is just barely on the outer edge of the electrical assault. The dark arcs crackle and smash the ground just before where Scrapper is standing, leaving him shaken but not stirred. "We were built by Primus. So we ARE powered by a God!" Scrapper retorts as he sends additional laser blasts upwards. "Sort of..." Guns clearly aren't working. "Hey, Autobots! This isn't working. Any of you idiots have a plan for beating this thing???" Scrapper strikes Dire Wraith with Laser Pistol - Low Setting. "GAH!" Apeface bellows as electricity blasts against his frame, sending the Decepticon Triplechanger flinging backwards in a smoking heap. In mid-air he transforms, crashing into the ground in his clunky gorilla form as concrete churns and breaks apart in his landing. "Awh, that's it..." he mutters, visored gaze flaring. "I'm gonna rip that fruity fanatic apart an' feed him ta his city-eating friend there piece by piece!! GRUNK!!" Flipping back up onto his feet, Apeface beats his massive hands against his chest before swooping down, picking up chunks of rubble and just FLINGING them at the wraith and, subsequently, the HORRIFYING BALL OF ENERGY behind him. "GRAAAHAAAHAHAAAH, EAT IT, YA CRAZY MORON!" With a mighty "GrUnK!" Apeface assumes his purple funky munky form. Apeface strikes Dire Wraith with GRUNK!. Dreadwind turns his heavy stare on Scrapper, "I am telling it of the pointlessness of it all, unlike you and the Decepticon this thing appears to be listening, though i doubt it will stop it from destroying you, me and everyone else in the most painfull way imaginable." Dreadwind turns back to the wraith, "Is it blasphemy to speak the truth of the universe? The universe hides its motives so well that even when spoken aloud others rarely hear. They would rather hide from it and pretend there is meaning to everything when in fact there is nothing, nothing but the torment of existence itself and the unending pain of having been made to suffer." Dreadwind slumps to a sitting position as if the weight of his own words have pushed him to the ground. The Wraith begins to flicker more with every attack on it, though it seems unconcerned. Every time a laserbolt or explosion hits its form, sending plumes of black smoke everywhere, the energy sphere pulses, the Wraith reforming itself. The ground beneath it is now pitted and scarred, but it floats above, looking from attacker to attacker. And then at Dreadwind. "The rules of this universe will shortly no longer apply. That is something you will soon understand. And so will YOU." As Warmonger gets close, the Wraith literally grabs at him, to throw him at the energy sphere too. "Prostrate yourselves!" Dire Wraith strikes Warmonger with Warmonger toss!. Blot doesn't see Pipes go and just blindly stumbles into the ghost. "BwaaaauUUuuuh" He cries, "SO THIRSTY" White foam begins to well up in his mouth and he looks like a 1990s comic panel that was carefully traced over photos from questionable source material. "Aaaahuhuahuhuhauh DIIIIEEEESEL! BLOT WANT!" He stumbles into the ghost leading with his fist. "BLOTCH!" Blot strikes Dire Wraith with BLOTCH!. Scrapper scoffs at Dreadwind. "You're an idiot. Nothing is pointless! Nothing except for Omega Supreme at any rate." Scrapper just couldn't resist. Fighting what might very well be the Transformer Devil, he just has to put in a bad word for old Omega. The Constructicon looks up at the Wraith and shouts, "Tell you what. Put Dreadwind out of his misery and I'll see what I can do about worshipping you as my God!" grasping at the ground, the battered Frenzy tries to crawl a safe distance from the wraith. "why..don't..we just have Trypticon..eat him..or sit on him!" He weakly yells at Scrapper. "The only thing I, WARMONGER, understand... is WARRRRR!" He reaches out clawed hands for the wraith... but instead, it is HE who is grabbed and flung through the aether! As the fearsome Decepticon Jet strikes the orb... he, too, begins to vanish. Literally turning inside out as his armor is stripped from his frame, and then his frame is stripped... from REALITY! Warmonger reaches a hand out towards the Decepticon troops, beseechingly, even as his hand fades from sight. All that remains of the brave Decepticon is his voice. "FORRR GALVATRRRRONNNNNNN!" Markdown shakes his head. "Don't have any explosive attacks, Red Alert," Markdown yells as he charges forward. "But--" He twists around and begins to fall over onto his back. "I--" THWAM! His legs rotate around and form the passenger and storage area. "hit--" CLANG! His arms retract into his bulky shoulders, which then form the front end of the Hummer. "HARD!" CRUNCH! The Hummer, fully transformed, lands on its tires, and churns up gravel as it barrels down straight for the wraith. "Let's see you brush THIS off, buddy!" Markdown falls forward onto his arms, his legs fold up into the back section, then his arms collapse into the front section of a powerful General Motors H12 Hummer! Markdown strikes Dire Wraith with ram. Dreadwind ignores the blatant attempt from Scrapper to finally get rid of him, after all it's not as if he hasn't survived a number of medical 'accidents' let alone the outright assassination attempts, and that was just Darkwing. From his crumpled sitting position he continues to watch, "It matters not what universe rules it is always the same, unending suffering and spite, eternal pain finally leading to a blissful end. That is when the final joke is played and you are reborn and the suffering starts once more in never ending cycle, suffering upon suffering without cessation." Scrapper snaps his fingers at Frenzy. "Hey yeah, that's not a retarded idea. We'll get Trypticon to smash him up. And if Trypticon can't do it, he'll at least buy us time to work out a surrender proposal. Good thinking, Frenzy!" Even as Scrapper says this, he gapes as a Decepticon vanishes into the Wraith. "No, Warmonger!" The engineer is truly in shock, and he mumbles his reply to Dreadwind. "Sounds like a really lousy joke..." Frenzy pulls himself behind a tree and pulls out his gun. "Oh gee, Thanks Scrapper!" He replies to the not-a-retarded-idea bit. The poor little cassteicon is battered and near beat, but he still has his snarky The Wraith continues to flicker and dissipate every time it is struck, reforming again without fail. He watches dispassionately as Warmonger is literally disintegrated. "His fate will be yours all" it booms. "Do not delay the inevitable, you have shown yourself to be violent wretches, but perhaps that too can be put to use by the master..." As both Blot and Markdown attack close, the Wraith has two targets... but he picks Markdown, attempting to grab the vehicle and throw him at the still growing sphere. "Meet your maker, Cybertronian!" Dire Wraith strikes H12 Hummer with Markdown toss!. H12 Hummer is duly shocked to find that his attack does nothing to the wraith, seemingly, and worse yet, the wraith has him. "What, how'd he--argh, no! I can't die yet!" he yells as he is flung at the sphere. "I haven't even set up my retail chain yet! Noooooo!!!!---" Like the Sphere's other victims, Markdown's first stripped of his metallic "skin," revealing underlying machinery, which is still running until it too vanishes, followed by the skeletal framework of the Hummer, and then there is nothing. Red Alert shouts, "Noo!" As Markdown is the next to disappear. The volume of fire directed at the Wraith has gone down noticeably after so many have been lost, Autobot and Decepticon alike. "Rodimus Prime! It's clear that our attacks aren't working! You've got to get out of here...it won't do the Autobots any good if you're destroyed here as well! Quickswitch and I will try to buy you some time!" Red Alert is already backing away down the street, blasting away. But instead of firing directly at the Wraith, he's blasting away at the surroundings in -front- of the growing sphere of energy. A series of surgical attacks aimed to collapse street signs, knock over trees and lamposts, even cause a tall building to fall over...all in front of the energy sphere in an effort to somehow slow it down. Frenzy peeks around the tree, optics going wide as Markdown is vaporized. "Gee, I almost feel bad for the auto-jerk..almost!" He holds his gun close, ready to blast the Wraith if it comes close, and wonders why he showed up to this shin dig in the first place. The bright crimson photon blaster lowers sharply. Quickswitch rises and leaps toward the Wraith's direction, his enormous, broad body reforming itself into a snarling beast, a charging laser, before finally landing with a hard thud as treads smack the ground as a hovercraft. There's a shimmering bubble that bends sleekly around his form. A second later, the Six Changer is a robot, rising to a near fifty feet tall and almost half as wide, staring right at the wraith, towering over the dark and diminished being. He looks neither pissed off or upset over the losses taken by the Autobots and the Decepticons, only an intermittent twitch of fluid features like a spastic jump. His photon blasters armed, by his side, "Deal with /this,/," the massive shifts from one form to another in an maniacal series of rapid transformations, stopping now and again before finally raising up into his robot form, looking now, quite angry, angrier still that his lasers will do nothing. Perhaps he would prove distracting somehow. Suddenly, Quickswitch transforms into an assault hovercraft. Quickswitch successfully activates a powerful protective forcefield around Assault Hovercraft , shielding it from the next attack. Scrapper nods approvingly as Markdown is next to go. "Decepticons 2, Autobots 1," he says with a triumphant sneer. The Constructicon begins to walk towards Frenzy, presumably to patch the little fella up so he can get back on his feet. The Constructicon is getting close to calling for a general Decepticon retreat, leaving Warmonger to his fate. "ENOUGH!" the Wraith cries out as the transformers attacks slow down. "Your attempts at resisting your fate are pathetic. You dare deny the summoning? Then you shall be CONSUMED!" The black-clad figure raises his hand, and at that moment... CRACK-THOOOOM!, the energy sphere starts to expand faster, even more quickly, arcing outwards at a high velocity, enough to catch most off-guard and consume them in its embrace... Dreadwind can see that he is making very little headway in convincing the wraith of the pointlessness of it all. In fact the longer he talks and listens to the replies the more the wraith starts to sound like Darkwing, Dreadwind painfully struggles to his feet. "You fight too hard against the inevitable, i'm sure you'd love my overly happy associate Darkwing, he's about as obstinate too." Dreadwind turns and trudges towards Scrapper, "See i said it was utterly pointless when we arrived, the wraith was ready for us. It's better to save our energy and return to base and wait for the end to come, let the Autobots waste their time trying to play hero." Turned away as he was Dreadwind doesn't see it coming, though of course he did know it was on the way, even as his body is stripped away you can still make out one final moan about how bright it is. "SLAG YOU!" Quickswitch roars. Even through the forcefield, Quickswitch can feel /something/, himself, coming apart at the molecules. His fury submerged in a maelstrome of confusion, curiousity--is this what death was to be like? His armor disintigrated, then downward with a strange static crackle, revealing mutant circuitry, wiring, hardware, quadruple redundancies and reenforcements of important, recognizable systems and many more that are not. Finally right down to his huge and well articulated skeletal frame, then -poof- nothing. And then there was one. Red Alert grimaces in anticipation as the sphere continues to spread. As it grows straight towards him, if anything faster than ever, he abandons his delaying tactics. Feet spread out in a slight crouch, both hands gripping his blaster, pointed directly at the energy sphere...Red Alert sends a few blazing particle beams before the energy washes over him, stripping away layers as they did everyone else. First to go is that improbable fire department paint job that Red Alert takes strange pride in. Followed by his hypersensitive sensor relays, then the outer layers of armor...exposing the disturbingly large array of audio recording devices, fiberoptic cameras, TWINK devices, and other quasi-legal goodies he has stashed away. Next is his internal structure, and finally there's no sign of Red whatsoever. A gigantic expanse, stretching far in all directions. The ground is covered in rocks and dirt, though there is no sign that it has ever been disturbed. The sound of wind whistles through the air, though there is no motion. The cries of strange birds are heard, but there is nothing visible in the sky, which also stretches far. The tips of the trees of a forest can be seen far to the east, whilst to the west is a range of mountains. Everywhere else seems to lead simply to... mist. Room Contents: H12 Hummer Large chunk of Washington state Statue of Liberty Raindance Obvious exits: South leads to White Mist. East leads to Forest. West leads to Mountains. Dreadwind has arrived. Quickswitch has arrived. Warmonger has arrived. Apeface has arrived. Blot has arrived. Dire Wraith has arrived. Blueshift has arrived. Frenzy has arrived. Frenzy shakes his head and sits up, looking around. "Geez, what a dump!" The Wraith flickers into the land, looking slightly less imposing in this land. "Now, behold your master's land! He will come for you soon!" Slowly, the creature fades from view. OoOoOoOO Frenzy shakes his fist as the wraith fades. "Your master owns a sh*thole buddy!" H12 Hummer finds himself sitting in the middle of a plain. "Is this... the afterlife?..." he wonders. Then, of course, the Wraith has to show up and ramble again. "--dammit. Of course not. Geeze." He transforms and takes in his surroundings. "Suppose it could be worse..." The H12 Hummer suddenly splits open, pushing itself up as the front end turns into a pair of powerful arms and the back end forms a pair of legs. Markdown emerges, ready for business! Dreadwind stares at the somewhat stark and gloomy surroundings, "See i was right, it never ends the suffering begins over again. Typical, this new universe is about as sunny and happy as the last one and i'm certain the moisture in the air will cause terrible corroding." Red Alert is still in his firing stance, blaster pointed out in front of him...only now it's pointed directly at Markdown's head. "Er...sorry," Red Alert offers, although he doesn't really sound that sorry. He shifts his aim slightly so that it's pointed vaguely in Dreadwind and Warmonger's direction instead. "Don't make any sudden moves, Decepticons!!" Dreadwind looks over towards the twitchy Autobot, "I knew this would happen, shall i draw the line so we know who's side of this place belongs to who so the raiding can start? I'm sure this place has lots of innovative new ways of making us curse our existence, so we might as well get the war back on track for starters." "Dreadwing!" A very familliar, rasping vocorder snaps as Quickswitch hauls himself up from the ground, debris particles falling from his enormous body, "Shut up." Markdown acks, backing up from the blaster. "Woah! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" he shouts. "We've got to figure out how to get out of--" He follows Red Alert's gaze, and sighs loudly. "Oh, right, they got sucked in, too." Turning to face them, he cracks his knuckles purposefully. "Or how about we skip that part and just get down to the fighting, huh?" You create temporary channel TZ for the Autobot faction. It will expire in three hours. CHAT: Non-Global Functions joins you to channel . Dreadwind turns his dull optics on Quickswitch, "Here you can try out different ways of torturing Quickswitch, but do not worry i won't forget the torment of our long time spent in the other universe, no one could forget that." Dreadwind ignores the blatent physical threat from Markdown after all that kind of pain is fleeting at best. "You can say a lot of things Red Alert but it doesn't make them true, i'm sure that this will all end in painful destruction soon enough." "Sounds good to me," Quickswitch replies, before a fit of hacking from his shoulder vents expells more crap. He straightens up from the bent posture long enough to nod in Red Alert's direction, his vocorder free of the rasping glitch, which he directs at Dreadwind, "Stay together," he offers stiffly, his blasters still present at his sides, "You wouldn't want any stragglers, separated from the group, now. would you?" it's barely a question. His face twitches from stoicism terribly at Dreadwind's dire comments, about him. Markdown's hands gesticulate wildly. "But we could totally kick their keisters and... ah, nevermind." Sighing, he ponders what the Autobots should do now. Quickswitch mutters to Dreadwind, "If... don't shut... /now/..." Quickswitch whispers "If you don't shut up /now/..." Assault Hovercraft bursts out laughing suddenly. For no seeming reason at all. Muha. Quickswitch springs up into his massive robot mode. Dreadwind stares tiredly at the Autobots his gaze coming to rest on Quickswitch, "Yes, enforced silence, nothing but silence slowly closing in around you, tugging at your sanity not knowing whether you are alive or dead but not truely either." Red Alert looks each Decepticon up and down, speculatively. Finally he shakes his head after he's looked at each of them one at a time. Frenzy crosses his arm. "What the hell are you looking at, Auto-jerk?" Red Alert shakes his head quickly. Too quickly? "Nothing. Just thinking to myself." He turns and heads for the Statue of Liberty. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see about setting up a temporary base of operations. The top of that statue might work as a command and communications post. Let's all try to remember that we're in this together." Quickswitch's head falls as Dreadwind's eulogy saturates his neural synapses. His fingers tighten around the grip of his blasters subconsciously. He lifts his gaze back to Dreadwind and the rest of the group, looking soundly upset, "All of you--make yourselves useful!" he fires at the ground, very near the group of Decepticons, a definite warning, or a superb show of restraint.
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